Good Guy Heroes Boxed Set

by Julie Ortolon

  “Ugh! You’re stronger than you look.” Mike grunted, winning a laugh. “Come on, I’ll show you the computer.” Standing, he led the way to the desk. “You know how to operate one of these things?”

  “Of course.” Dylan rolled his eyes. “I have one at home I use all the time.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” Mike hid a smile as he took a seat and moved his chair back enough for Dylan to stand between him and the keyboard.”

  “Well, actually, it’s my mom’s,” Dylan confessed. “But she lets me play on it whenever she’s not answering email.”

  “Email?” Mike’s interest piqued. “I take it your mom has a lot of email friends.”

  “They’re not really friends.”

  “Oh?” Mike prompted.

  Dylan seemed to sense his eagerness. “You wanna see?”

  “See what?” Mike asked.

  With the ease of someone far older, Dylan opened the web browser and entered a web address.

  “There,” Dylan said when the page came up. “That’s my mom.”

  Confused, Mike glanced at the screen to find a blog site. In the banner, a winged cherub hung above flowing script that read “Dear Cupid.” The cherub’s heart-shaped face, with its stubborn chin and mischievous eyes, bore a striking resemblance to Kate.

  “Well, yeah,” Mike said. “That does look a bit like your mom.”

  “No,” Dylan said, pointing at the cherub again. “That is my mom. She’s Cupid.”

  “What?” Mike glanced from the screen to the boy, then back again. Taking the mouse, he navigated through the site, skimming a post by “Cupid” on creative ways to celebrate an anniversary. Older posts covered topics on how to ask someone out, how to get through a first date, how to spice up a marriage.

  A chuckle started to build inside him just as footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  “Dylan? Honey, where are you? Oh, there you are. Thank goodness. You scared me.” Kate came to an abrupt halt when she stepped into the room and found Dylan standing between Mike and the computer, enclosed in the circle of Mike’s arms reaching for the keyboard. “Dylan, what are you doing down here?”

  “Hey, Mom, look at this computer,” Dylan said. “Isn’t it cool?”

  Her eyes went to the large screen and widened in utter mortification. “Oh my God!”

  She swept across the room, nearly falling into Mike’s lap as she hit the close window command.

  “It’s okay, Kate,” Mike said, placing his hands on her hips to steady her. “Dylan was just showing me your webpage.”

  Kate leapt away from his touch, then whirled to face him. Just as she feared, she saw laughter in his eyes. “Okay, fine, laugh at me being Dear Cupid.”

  His ridicule couldn’t possibly hurt any more than some of the things Edward had said.

  “Hey.” Mike sobered. “I wasn’t laughing at you. But I do find it funny.”

  “What, that a divorced woman hands out advice on romance?”

  “I didn’t say that. It’s just—”

  “So happy to amuse you,” she said, gritting her teeth.

  “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

  Glancing down, she saw distress line Dylan’s face, and her heart sank at the thought of upsetting him. “Nothing, sweetie.” She dropped to a knee before him. “Everything’s fine. I would just prefer you not show people my website.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just…” She had no idea how to explain with Mike listening in. Mustering a smile, she smoothed her son’s hair. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

  “Okay.” He looked relieved.

  Standing, with Dylan’s hand in hers, she faced Mike, keeping her chin high. “Jim’s here. He’s taking care of the problem so there’s no reason for me to stay. I need to get Dylan home.”

  “Wait a second,” Mike called as she turned to leave. “What time do I pick you up tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “For the party.”

  She started to tell him again that taking a date on a wife hunt was a ridiculous idea, but sighed instead. “What time does the party start?”

  “Seven o’clock,” he answered. “But I doubt anyone will get there until eight or nine.”

  “Then pick me up at eight.”

  “You got it.” He nodded. “Oh, and Kate,” he called as she turned toward the stairs.

  “What?” she sighed.

  A grin spread slowly across his face. “Wear something sexy.”

  Rolling her eyes, she left the room with Dylan in tow.

  Chapter 9

  *

  “WEAR SOMETHING SEXY?” Kate said to Linda the following evening. “How many times do I have to tell the man I’m going as his dating coach, not his date?” Dressed in a floral satin bathrobe, she rummaged through her closet looking for something to wear. Something simple and conservative.

  “I have to admit, your first account is certainly… unusual.” Linda lounged amid the mountain of colorful pillows on Kate’s bed. Since Dylan would be spending the night with her, she’d come by early to visit while Kate got ready for the party. “Since I started Wife for Hire, I’ve interviewed maids, nannies, landscapers, and housepainters, but I’ve never had a client ask me to find him a wife.”

  “I should have told him no,” Kate said as she considered a black shift her ex-mother-in-law had talked her into buying. The outfit hung straight from her generous breasts to her round hips, making her look twenty pounds heavier. If she wanted to keep Mike from seeing her as attractive, the dress fit the bill. When she held the dress before her and looked in the mirror she realized the severe color also made her look like a corpse. “This whole thing is completely absurd.”

  “Maybe, but I’m thrilled to have you working with me.” Linda tilted her head to study the dress, then made a face that expressed Kate’s sentiments exactly. “Besides, I think Mike Cameron hiring Cupid makes sense in a spooky, cosmic sort of way.”

  “Actually, you’re right.” Kate hung the black dress back in the closet since her ego refused to wear anything that made her look that bad. “It’s enough to make you believe in fate, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?” Linda asked.

  Kate continued digging through the closet, past her mom-clothes, wondering if any of her pre-pregnancy clothes fit her more generous, post-pregnancy figure. “Only that here I was, doubting my ability to be Cupid, even before Gwen threatened to cancel me, which is all connected. Once you doubt yourself, pretty soon everyone will follow suit. The job with Mike is my chance to turn everything around. I just wish the challenge wasn’t quite this big.”

  “Wait, back up. Turn what around?”

  “My attitude.” Her gaze landed on a skimpy gold dress way in the back of the closet. The dress used to be one of her favorites, yet she couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn it. The cleverly darted design might accommodate the more exaggerated curves she’d acquired, while the spaghetti straps would leave her arms and a tantalizing hint of breast bare.

  Holding the dress against her, she stepped before the mirror, wondering if it was a little too sexy. “If I can prove to myself that I still have what it takes to help others, that confidence will come through in my posts, right?”

  “And how will you prove it?”

  She met her own gaze in the mirror. “By finding Mike Cameron a wife. The perfect wife for him.” And if she wanted to wear a skimpy gold dress and have a little fun while she doing it, then by golly she would!

  She headed for the dresser to find the right undergarments to wear with a spaghetti-strap dress. Thanks to her passion for lingerie and her discount through Gwendolyn’s Garden, she certainly had plenty to choose from.

  “Wow,” Linda said, watching her. “You didn’t mention you wanted to be that wife.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kate straightened with a start. “I’m not interested in marrying Mike myself.”

  “Right.” Laughing, Linda twirled a finger toward the sexy underga
rments Kate had pulled out. “You just want to give the man heart failure.”

  “He’s not going to see any of this.”

  “None of my business.” Linda held up her hands. “I’m just glad you’re finally dating.”

  “I’m not dating him,” she insisted as she took a seat at her Queen Anne vanity. A cheerful array of perfume bottles, jewelry, and makeup cases vied with family photos on its surface. Pointing her toes, she rolled the silk stockings onto her legs. “Trust me, Linda, there is absolutely nothing romantic going on between Mike and me. This is strictly business.”

  “Really? Well, that’s disappointing.” Linda made a face that came dangerously close to a pout. “For a moment, I actually thought one of us had something romantic going on.”

  “What do you mean?” Kate stepped into the closet to exchange the robe for a bustier and French-cut girdle.

  “Nothing,” Linda mumbled.

  Kate stuck her head around the door and frowned at her friend. “I know that tone. Something is obviously wrong, so spill, woman.”

  “It’s nothing,” Linda insisted. “Except this huge stomach of mine! God, I feel so fat, I don’t think I’ll ever be thin again.”

  “Jeez, Linda, don’t tell me you’re letting that hamper your love life.” Kate slipped the dress over her head. With a wiggle of her hips, the gold fabric settled about her, as light as a lover’s whisper. It fit. Yes!

  “I’m not letting it stop me,” Linda said. “But Jim is. Do you know we haven’t made love since the baby started kicking?”

  “What!” Kate stepped around the door, slipping high-heeled sandals onto her feet. “But surely the doctor told you it was okay, as long as y’all don’t get too rambunctious.”

  “She did. But Jim refuses to touch me. At first I thought he was just afraid of hurting the baby, but now I don’t know.” Her voice grew a bit desperate. “Kate, he spends all his time out in his workshop and he’s made it very clear he doesn’t want me to come out and visit with him anymore. It’s like he doesn’t want me around. What if he’s having second thoughts about starting a family? Having a baby could change everything between us. What if he’s not ready? What if I’m not ready?”

  The words touched on so many of the things that had gone wrong in Kate’s own marriage, her heart tightened. But Linda and Jim had a very different relationship.

  “Oh, honey…” She sat on the edge of the bed. Cupping her friend’s chin, she stared into the frantic blue eyes. “I know for a fact that Jim finds you incredibly attractive—”

  “I’m not attractive,” Linda pouted. “I’m fat.”

  “You are not fat!” Kate growled. “You’re pregnant with his child, and that makes you the most beautiful woman in the world to him.”

  “Then why won’t he make love to me?”

  “You said it yourself. He’s worried about hurting the baby. So, what you need to do is reassure him that sex can be very healthy for the baby. In fact, every time you have an orgasm, it makes your uterus contract and gives the baby a massage. If you think about it, it really is incumbent upon him—as a caring father—to give you as many orgasms as possible. For the good of the baby, of course.”

  Linda gave a short, surprised laugh. “You’re making that up.”

  “No, really, it’s true. And what’s more”—Kate wiggled her eyebrows—“the more your uterus expands to make room for the baby, the stronger your orgasms will be.”

  “Kate!” Linda moaned. “That’s not the kind of thing to tell a horny woman who’s gone without sex for two months.”

  “Maybe not, but Jim has gone without for just as long, so he’s just as miserable as you are.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.” She tweaked Linda’s nose. “In fact, that’s probably why he can’t keep his mind on his work. He’s so hot for you he can’t think straight. So, what you need to do is wait until Dylan goes to bed tonight. Then find something loose but sexy to wear. Put on some perfume, and offer to give Jim a back rub.”

  “Which will promptly put the man to sleep.”

  “Not a chance.” Kate straightened her friend’s bangs. “You are way too sexy to put any man to sleep. Especially one who loves you as much as Jim does.”

  “Oh, Kate.” Linda leaned forward and gave her a tight hug. “You always know the right thing to say.”

  “That’s my job.” Kate returned the hug. “If you wanted to repay me, though, there is something you could do.”

  “Oh?” Linda leaned back.

  Kate lowered her eyes, uncomfortable with the sudden role reversal. Giving help was so much easier than asking for it. “Could you ask Jim to talk to Dylan tonight? Have him ask how everything’s going at school and such?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” Kate made a restless gesture with her hand. “I think something’s wrong. Only, Dylan won’t talk to me. Maybe he’d open up more to a man.”

  “I’ll be happy to ask Jim to talk to him, on one condition.” Linda ducked her head to meet Kate’s eyes. “That you quit worrying so much. You are a wonderful mother, Kate. I mean that. I only hope I’m half as good. But sometimes, not always”—she held up her hands—“just sometimes, you do get the tiniest bit overprotective.”

  “I know, but it’s hard not to with Dylan. He’s so small and awkward, I’m afraid the other boys pick on him at school.”

  Linda’s brows snapped together. “Just because someone’s small, doesn’t mean they’re helpless. And the more people try to protect them, the more they’re going to resent it.”

  Kate blinked in surprise, then grinned in understanding. “Are we talking about Dylan here, or you?”

  Linda blushed just as the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” Dylan hollered from the other room.

  Kate jumped to her feet. “Oh, my goodness, he’s here already? Linda, go stall him while I do something with my hair.”

  “Dylan can handle Mike.” Linda laughed. “I’d much rather stay here and watch Cupid be nervous over a first date.”

  “I told you. It’s not a date.”

  “Right.” Linda smiled.

  ***

  DYLAN GRABBED THE door with both hands and swung it open. He expected to find Jim ready to take him to the big house up the hill where he and Miss Linda lived. Tonight, he was going to get to sleep over, and Jim had promised Dylan he could help out in the workshop again. They were building a crib for the baby, but it was a big secret, just between them, ’cause they were both men, and men shared things that women didn’t know about. Boy, he couldn’t wait to see Miss Linda’s face when they finished the crib. It was really cool.

  Except, instead of Jim standing on the front porch, he found the man who had upset his mother yesterday. Dylan’s shoulders slumped with disappointment. He still didn’t understand what had happened, but if his mom didn’t like the guy, he supposed he probably shouldn’t either. Even if he had a really cool computer.

  “Hey there, Dylan.” The man smiled around a big bunch of flowers.

  “My mother isn’t ready yet,” Dylan replied cautiously. “You’ll have to wait.”

  “All right,” the man said as they both remained in the doorway, eyeing each other. “Mind if I come in?”

  “I guess not.” Dylan turned and led the way inside.

  Raising a brow, Mike followed. He’d accepted the fact that winning Kate wouldn’t be as easy as he’d first assumed, but the last obstacle he’d expected was a seven-year-old boy. Especially since he thought he’d connected a bit with the boy on their first meeting, despite the rocky beginning. Apparently not. A revelation that confused him. Kids usually liked him. And he liked them. This kid obviously required a little more effort to win over.

  Taking a seat on a small camel-back sofa, Mike tried to decide if he should hold on to the flowers or set them on the coffee table. They’d been a last-minute impulse, and one he hoped he wouldn’t regret. Across from him, the boy climbed into a win
gback chair by the rock fireplace. Neither of them spoke. Mike glanced about for some way to break the ice.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Kate’s home, but the rustic cabin had surprised him when he’d driven up. The inside, however, suited her. Wisps of creamy gauze draped about the windows, softening the rough-hewn walls. A rug before the hearth added a homey touch, along with the colorful clutter of children’s toys.

  Family photos and breakable knickknacks marched across the mantel, well out of reach of a seven-year-old’s curious hands. He squinted, trying to make out faces in the photos as he wondered about the names and stories that went with them.

  “Are you gonna try to poke my mom?” Dylan asked.

  “Excuse me?” Mike jerked his attention back to the boy, sure he must have heard wrong. “What did you say?”

  “Are you gonna try to poke her?” Dylan scowled at him. “You know, with your binky.”

  His binky? From his experience as an uncle, Mike knew “binky” could mean anything from a pacifier to a penis. Somehow he didn’t think Dylan referred to any of the more innocent options. “Who told you such a thing?”

  “Jason,” Dylan responded gravely. “He says guys always try to poke girls when they take them out.”

  “And who exactly is this Jason character?” Mike asked with mounting anger.

  “Jason Haynie,” Dylan answered, as if any fool knew who Jason was. “His father plays in a rock band.”

  “Oh, yes, well, I can definitely see how that would make him an authority on dating.”

  Dylan waited a heartbeat. “So, are you?”

  Mike studied the kid, tempted to tell him it was none of his business what he and his mother did. That, however, wouldn’t win him any points with Kate or Dylan. It suddenly occurred to him that, if he did manage to win Kate over, this kid would be his stepson.

  Whoa! His stepson?

  Now there was a thought to unsettle a man. Even one who liked kids.

  He’d imagined getting married, having a year or two as newlyweds, followed by the thrill of finding out about a baby on the way—then a family. Did he really want to share Kate right from the start? Okay, so the situation wasn’t the idyll he’d imagined, but he could work with it.