by Leigh Duncan
Something in Karen’s posture told Amanda there was bad news ahead. Almost unwilling to hear the answer, she asked, “Where?”
“Miami.” The look in Karen’s eyes hardened. “And as my lawyer, you can’t tell a soul. Not even Mitch.” She sat back in her chair. “Especially not Mitch.”
Her promise to represent her client to the best of her abilities still rang in Amanda’s ears. Though her stomach churned at the idea of keeping such a monumental secret from the man who thought the world revolved around his daughter, she had no choice. She ground her teeth together and nodded.
* * *
ON THE DECK behind the house, a cloud of meat-flavored smoke rose from the grill. It dissipated quickly in the moist summer air. Mitch grabbed a pair of tongs. After checking to see that the hot dogs were sufficiently charred—exactly the way Hailey liked them—he gently turned each one.
“Five minutes,” he called to the young girls playing on the jungle gym he’d erected the Labor Day weekend Hailey turned two. “Time to get washed up.”
He braced for an argument.
More often than not, getting preschoolers to come when they were called required the skills of a master cat herder. Today, with Amanda looking over his shoulder, it was doubly important that he fit the image of a perfect father. When their guests replied, “Yes, Mr. Goodwin,” he relaxed and told himself there might be a benefit to Hailey spending time at her mom’s, after all. Thanks to the weeks that had passed since his daughter and her friends had played together, all the girls were on their best behavior.
Mitch smiled, remembering how excited Hailey had been when Amanda’s SUV had pulled to the curb. His daughter had literally jumped from the vehicle, her dark curls bouncing. She’d spent the first fifteen minutes racing around the house, checking to make sure that nothing had changed in her absence. Except for a bit more dust on the furniture and an overflowing laundry hamper in his bedroom, nothing had. When he’d announced that Emma and Reese were joining them, Hailey had been so happy, she’d danced around on her toes.
Closing the lid on the grill and firming his smile, Mitch wiped his hands down the front of the red apron Hailey had picked out for his birthday last year. He didn’t fool himself. He owed this day to Amanda. He’d been darn lucky the day Dobson had appointed her to oversee Hailey’s visits. No one else would have been so accommodating, letting them meet here at the house, even helping him get ready for the cookout. He crossed his fingers, hoping that seeing him in his element would sweep away her lingering doubts about the home he’d made for Hailey.
“All set over there?” He swung a glance in her direction and froze, held captive by an enticing rear view of denim shorts and a snug T-shirt that showed off tempting curves. A reaction that was anything but fatherly stirred within him.
“I think we’re good.” Amanda placed the last juice box beside a red plastic plate and smoothed a wrinkle from the checked tablecloth. She turned toward him, a few loose hairs spilling from the ponytail she’d hastily assembled after Mitch suggested they eat outside.
He resisted the urge to cross the deck and tuck the tendrils behind her ears. The last few weeks, he’d become familiar with her moods. Today, a slight stiffness in her shoulders hinted that something weighed heavily on her. Uncertain whether he was the source or not, he eyed her closely.
Was she having second thoughts about coming to his house? Were they breaking the rules by meeting here?
His gut told him that wasn’t the problem. Ever since Hailey had coaxed Amanda into joining their tea party that first Sunday afternoon, the slim blonde had ignored the DCF rule book. Each Sunday, she joined in their games. Afterward, she and Hailey usually curled up on the couch, where Amanda read books to his daughter while he gathered up their toys and such at the end of the allotted visitation. Sure, she still made an effort to remain aloof and observant, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it.
Mitch ran a hand through his hair as he thought back to the Saddle Up Stampede and the way he’d held Amanda in his arms. He’d been amazed at his reaction then. She’d moved him in ways he hadn’t experienced since the summer they’d spent at rodeo camp. Ever since, the slightest touch of her fingers on his arm had been intoxicating. A shared look from across the room could send his heart rate galloping.
He fought against a growing hunger for the woman who stirred his desire for white picket fences, two-point-five kids and laughter around the dinner table every night. He’d never been the kind of man who wanted a physical relationship without an emotional one, and he wondered if she fought the same churn of feelings.
“You doing okay?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said without meeting his gaze. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem a little quieter than usual.”
Amanda waved aside his concern. “It’s not something I can talk about right now.”
The very fact that they couldn’t discuss it meant whatever was bothering her had to do with him. Or more to the point, the custody case. Questions formed on his tongue. Before he could ask them, a trio of excited young girls trouped up the steps of the deck.
With his concerns about Amanda shoved to one side, he swung his attention to the children. “What have we here, the princess and her court?”
He bowed deeply, his hand sweeping out to encompass all the girls. They promptly erupted in giggles. He spun his hand in circles in a manner depicted by a thousand courtesans in a thousand movies, and the children laughed harder. Their happiness warmed his heart, and the next hour sped by.
Shortly after Hailey’s favorite meal of burned hot dogs, homemade mac ’n’ cheese, and grapes disappeared, Lydia dropped by for Reese and Emma. Though Mitch expected the usual whines and wails when her friends left, Hailey only asked if she could play in her room. With Mrs. Giggles perched on her hip, she headed up the stairs. Minutes later, laughter and the sounds of a little girl talking to her dolls drifted into the kitchen.
“She had a good time today.” At the sink, Amanda’s voice rose above the sound of running water. “I was afraid she’d be upset after our talk this morning about the accident.”
Mitch glanced at the ceiling. “Yeah,” he said softly. “She seems okay with it. So.” He hesitated. “She doesn’t remember anything?”
“No. Afraid not.” Amanda’s ponytail swung back and forth. “Not the fall. Not going to the park. Nothing, until she woke up in the hospital the next day.”
Mitch brushed aside a sharp jab of regret. Hailey’s account of that evening had been his best hope for bringing his daughter home permanently. He ran a hand through his hair, doubt niggling at him.
Should he have trusted his ex-wife’s lawyer to handle such an important conversation?
Did he trust Amanda?
He did, and though the truth of that surprised him, it shouldn’t have. After his visits with Hailey, they’d spent hours laughing about old times, reconnecting. He’d discovered the grown-up Amanda was far more intriguing than the young girl he’d once loved. He could count on her to tell him the truth. Even if a lie would better serve her client’s interests.
“So, what did you think about our little cookout?” he asked, resisting the urge to press for details.
Water sluiced from the casserole dish Amanda had finished rinsing. “Is this how you and Hailey usually spend your weekends? Or were you doing things differently to impress me?” She tilted the pan upside down in the dish drainer before turning to face him.
Puzzled, Mitch let his gaze sweep past the kitchen to the deck where they’d eaten. While it was true he’d hoped Amanda would see his best side today, he hadn’t gone to extraordinary lengths.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean. It was a typical Sunday afternoon. It’s the one day of the week Hailey and I always spend together. If the weather’s nice, like today, we cook out. If not, I make pasta.” He grimaced as the wave of bad memories from the last time he’d fixed spaghetti rolled over him. “Or something. About half the time, a few of
Hailey’s friends will join us.”
“My experience with families is somewhat limited.” Amanda tipped her head as if to remind him that the admission counted as a world-class understatement. “But it seems like, even in restaurants, either the mom or the dad is always on a cell phone. Checking their email. Texting. You don’t.”
It was good that she’d noticed, Mitch told himself. There were other things he wanted Amanda to know about the way the Goodwin household operated.
“Any other day of the week, I’m as guilty of that as the next guy. Monday through Saturday, Esme takes care of Hailey. I rarely see her much before bedtime. To be honest, when I’m working a trial, I may not even get a chance to read her a bedtime story or tuck her in at night.” He hated that part, but he wasn’t going to lie about it. “Saturdays are busy. Dance lessons. Soccer practice. Whatever. And birthday parties—you wouldn’t believe how many of those there are.”
At the mention of birthdays, his thoughts took an unexpected detour.
“Will you ask Karen if she’s received any mail for Hailey?” He stared into the distance, hoping the neighborhood rumor mill had churned out Karen’s address, fearing it hadn’t.
“Sure.” Amanda shrugged. “Are you looking for something in particular?”
“Those parties I mentioned. One or two invitations arrive in the mail every week, but I haven’t gotten any since…” He let a simple gesture indicate the day his world had turned upside down. It was one thing to make him a social pariah. His daughter shouldn’t have to suffer for it.
“I’ll check.” Amanda’s fingers trailed across the granite countertop. “You live a much different life than I’d pictured.”
Was that a hint of longing in her voice? “I hope that’s a good thing,” he said.
“Oh, it is.”
Her sweet, wistful look was one of his favorite expressions, and his hunger for her stirred. Intending only to brush his mouth against hers, he leaned down, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to taste her. He swept his tongue across her lips, savoring the hint of familiarity he found there.
Her lips parted. Whether she wanted a breath, or more of him, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He swept in, his mouth possessing hers in a move that felt more right than anything else had in a long time. For a few minutes, there was no custody case, no injured daughter, no supervised visitation. His troubles faded so completely that there was only Amanda and the incredible feel of her lips against his.
They kissed until their tongues danced and his breath turned ragged. His heart thundered in his chest.
Wanting to follow the kiss wherever it might lead, Mitch shifted forward. He slid his hand around Amanda’s waist, his fingers brushing the counter behind her. At a quiet thunk from upstairs, he froze.
In an instant, they had pulled apart.
Calling himself ten kinds of fool for letting things go so far, Mitch put a finger to his lips. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered.
Silently, he climbed the stairs, while doubts flooded in to fill the spaces where moments before there had been only Amanda and the kiss. Outside Hailey’s room, he paused long enough to gather the remnants of his composure before he eased the door open and peered inside.
His daughter lay curled up on her bed, one thumb in her mouth. The sight brought a painful smile to his lips. How many Sunday afternoons had Hailey protested that she was too old for naps, only to drift off on the couch, or while playing in her room? After all the excitement she’d had, coming home and seeing her friends, he should have expected it.
He crossed to her bedside and picked Mrs. Giggles up from the floor. When he placed her next to Hailey, his daughter stirred, reaching out one arm to clutch the doll to her chest. Mitch brushed hair from Hailey’s forehead and tried not to grimace. He had no business kissing Amanda while his daughter was in the same county, much less the same house.
Determined to keep a tighter leash on his libido, he was on his way downstairs to apologize when the phone rang. He snatched the receiver from the cradle in his office before the third ring. The muscles in his jaw jumped when he recognized Cheryl Johnson’s voice on the other end of the line. They jumped again when he learned the woman’s two nephews were waiting for him in her kitchen.
“I’ll be right there,” he said, unable to believe the chance to speak with Joey and Chuck had finally arrived.
He glanced through his office door to the kitchen, where Amanda stood. He needed to speak with her, to apologize for losing his head, to reassure her—and him—that their kiss wouldn’t be repeated as long as the custody battle continued. But the opportunity to speak with the boys who could clear his name might not come again soon. He couldn’t miss it.
Mitch squared his shoulders. He had to go, but no one said leaving was easy. He picked up his keys and crossed the living room to say goodbye.
* * *
THOUGH KISSING MITCH felt like coming home, there was nothing Norman Rockwell about the way she had melted in his arms or how their tongues had thrust and parried until her breath had been reduced to soft pants. Nothing warm and fuzzy about the way his strong hands had cupped her face or pulled her to him until his thighs pressed against hers.
No, kissing Mitch was all power and emotion. Stirring and wanting. His touch stole her breath and robbed her of coherent thought. And that was just…wrong.
She pressed her fingers to lips that still throbbed.
Where did they go from here?
She’d spent hours with Mitch and Hailey, enough time that she was convinced he would never harm his child. But it was a total conflict of interest for them to become physically involved. She was still his ex-wife’s attorney and an officer of the court. As recently as a few hours ago, she’d reaffirmed her promise to help Karen gain full custody of Hailey. If that wasn’t bad enough, the woman’s latest secret spelled doom with a capitol D for the slightest hope of a future with Mitch. When the truth came out—and Amanda had no doubt it would—he’d never forgive her.
And even if kissing Mitch didn’t break every rule in the book, she could never get involved with a man who chose his job over his family. Mitch did exactly that, spending only one day a week with his child.
No, she had no business kissing Mitch. Much less wanting to do it again.
The air conditioner kicked on, sending a blast of cold air into the space where Mitch had been standing only minutes before. Amanda caught her lip between her teeth. She leaned back against the counter, her ankles crossed, and tried to figure out how to tell the man she’d just kissed like a crazy woman that they could never—ever—do it again.
Mitch, apparently, had no such concerns. As she rubbed her arms against a sudden chill, he walked into the kitchen, his expression stern, his car keys clutched in his hand.
“Problems?” she asked. She scanned his face, noting a tremor of excitement that seeped around the edges of his frown.
“Nothing important.”
Somehow, she doubted that. She gave him a closer look. The hair she’d mussed had been smoothed back into place.
“I need to dash out for a minute. I’ll be right back. Would you mind staying with Hailey while I’m gone?”
“You’re going out? Some kind of emergency?”
Mitch shrugged. “No, nothing like that. Ordinarily, I’d put it off, but since Hailey’s asleep…”
A chip of the pedestal she’d erected in case Mitch turned out to be one of the good guys flaked onto the floor.
Amanda buried a sting of rejection behind the steady smile she’d developed during her rodeo days. “And this can’t wait another half hour until I take Hailey home?”
“I’ll be back to say goodbye.”
To Hailey. But not to her.
“I can’t promise I’ll wait. Karen has plans for them this evening. I promised to have her back at six on the dot. Besides, you know the rules. Visitation must start and stop at the appointed times.”
“So…” Mitch glowered. “We’re back to the rul
es again?”
When she didn’t respond, he wavered until she thought he might choose to stay. But his answer, when he finally reached a decision, was one she didn’t expect.
“I have to go.”
She knew then he had a secret and was hiding it from her. Had the district attorney called with some new case for him to handle? Had something come up in the office that couldn’t wait till morning? Whatever it was, she’d bet her last dollar his work had once more interfered with his home life.
Precisely thirty minutes later, Amanda steeled herself and marched up the stairs. At the entrance to Hailey’s room, her pique gave way to amazement. Pink floral wallpaper and soft carpeting turned the space into every little girl’s fantasy, exactly the room Amanda had longed for when she was Hailey’s age. Her glance took in the dollhouse on a low table, the shelves loaded with children’s books, and more dolls than the average toy store. Beneath the wispy curtains of a bed canopy, she gently shook a tiny shoulder.
“Sweetheart,” Amanda said in her softest voice. “Time to leave, honey.”
The girl blinked sleepily and yawned. “Where’s Daddy?”
“He had to go out for a bit. We’d wait for him, but your mommy is taking you to the movies, remember?” She sighed, glad that at least one Goodwin had learned the importance of spending time with their daughter.
Hailey sat up. Her feet dangled over the edge of the bed. “But I want to say bye.”
The protest rekindled Amanda’s anger at Mitch. He’d provided his child with all the trappings of a perfect life. Yet the man couldn’t stick around long enough for a four-hour, court-appointed visitation. What kind of father did that make him, really?
“I’m sorry.” Her heart went out to the child. “We need to leave now.”
Hailey kept up a constant stream of objections as Amanda guided her down the stairs and to her car. With every step, the little girl’s complaints rose in pitch, each a bit more frantic than the last, until Amanda feared Hailey was on the verge of one of her infamous meltdowns. Uncertain how she’d handle things if it came to that, she dredged her memory for some way to distract the child as she struggled to buckle Hailey into her car seat.
