“I’m never far from my cell phone.”
“Of course. I wasn’t implying you’re negligent.”
His gaze swept lightly over her. Today she looked like a throwback to a flower child. A voluminous gold skirt skimmed the tops of her hiking boots. A rust-colored blouse hung loosely to her hips, gathered close to her waist by a rope with beaded ends. She left a scent of lilac in her wake as she stepped into the foyer, calmly laying out her plan for taking his son to breakfast. Something moved in Garrett’s chest as he listened to her smoky morning voice. A hard-to-describe feeling. One that suggested there was a gaping hole in his life.
Garrett realized he must be staring at her as if he intended to lock her up and throw away the key. He grabbed hold of his tie with both hands to keep from grabbing her and kissing her lips. Garrett already knew how she tasted. Sweet. Very, very sweet. A tremor went through him. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t usually attracted to women friends, colleagues or baby-sitters. Sherilyn Campbell fit the bill for all three.
Wiping suddenly clammy hands on his white shirtfront, Garrett loped to the foot of the stairs and bellowed for Keith. Equilibrium restored now that he was out of range of her perfume, he tossed Sherry an easy smile.
“Keith will like eating breakfast out. The lucky dog. I’m envious.”
Sherry fought an overwhelming temptation to tell him to play hooky. She caught herself in the nick of time. He’s your boss, dummy!
“You said you had a breakfast meeting, or I’d never have presumed to drop by so early.”
“Breakfast to that crew is a box of jelly doughnuts and three pots of leaded coffee.”
“And you’re a steak-and-grits man?”
“More like cold cereal. Or omelets if someone else is cooking.”
“I love to cook. But it’s no fun cooking for one.” Suddenly she thought how that might sound and backpedaled. “Um, that’s not an invitation.” She ran nervous fingers up the strap of her shoulder purse and shifted from one foot to the other.
“Too bad. You missed seeing me lap up your lasagna like one of Pavlov’s dogs.” He screwed his face into a wry grin.
Her surprise at his admission turned into pleasure. “I didn’t realize Yvette had told you I made the casserole.”
“She didn’t. The day Keith and I ate at Nolan’s, Emily let the truth slip. She served a side dish of spaghetti. When I wolfed down my third helping, she informed me it was your recipe. Then went on to rave about your lasagna. I put two and two together. You can’t have cooked for Nolan. Emily’s praise of your cooking surprised him.”
“Until he met Em, all Nolan did on weekends was work on his house. My mom cooks at our family gatherings. He’s positive I never learned, even though I didn’t set out to keep it a secret.”
Keith appeared at the head of the stairs. His shirt wasn’t tucked in, but his face was scrubbed and his hair combed. He carried sneakers and socks.
“Are you really taking me out for breakfast, Sherry? I heard you ask Dad. I hate grits. Mark went someplace that makes chocolate-chip pancakes. Can we go there?”
“Featherstone Café. Nolan and I used to badger my folks to stop there on weekends. I’d order strawberry waffles and Nolan would have chocolate-chip pancakes. Going there’s okay by me, Keith, if your dad’ll let you have chocolate for breakfast.”
Garrett gazed at Keith’s beaming face, love filling his heart. As a result, his answer emerged sounding deep and a little scratchy. “Anything that brings a smile to your face is fine with me, son. If the food’s as good as Sherry remembers, maybe the three of us can leave early for St. Louis on Saturday and stop there to eat.”
Sherry’s head came around fast. “Who three?” Did he mean Yvette? Probably. No, definitely. After seeing the two of them together last night and hearing about their plans to attend the Conways’ harvest party, Sherry had to assume Yvette would naturally replace her as Lock’s tour guide on the St. Louis trip.
Deftly tying his tie without a mirror, Garrett pinned Sherry with a look. “Do you have a problem with Saturday? I know last time it came up you sounded a bit vague. Listen, Carla wants Keith there by ten o’clock. If we’re having breakfast first, we’ll need to leave here by seven.”
“You think Yvette can get up that early after partying tonight?”
Forehead creased, Garrett reached for his suit jacket, which hung over one of the newel posts. “I didn’t ask Yvette. I asked you.”
Sherry gnawed on her bottom lip as she contemplated both his exasperated stance and his words. “But you were together last night and the two of you are going to the Conways’ tonight.”
Retrieving his briefcase from the closet, Garrett checked his watch before rumpling his son’s hair. “If I don’t take off, I’ll be late for the session. You live with Yvette,” he said to Sherry. “You must know the woman doesn’t take no for an answer. When she told me about the Conway bash, I thought everyone in town, including you, was going.”
“That used to be the case. This couples-only qualifier is new. Look, I don’t want to make you late for a budget meeting. I’ll go to St. Louis unless you change your mind. Enjoy the harvest party. I’ll have Keith home and in bed by eight-thirty.”
“You’re sure you’re all right with this arrangement? If you want to get a date and go to this shindig, I’ll be glad to bow out. I’m the Johnny-come-lately here. Those folks are your friends.” He realized the minute the words were out that he didn’t like the idea of her going with some nameless, faceless man. Hadn’t Yvette said there’d be dancing by starlight?
Garrett wasn’t the world’s best dancer. Yet he had no difficulty imagining Sherry cutting a colorful swath across a dance floor. He conjured up a vision as she stood talking to his son. Scowling, he closed out the picture of her tripping lightly around a dance floor held tight to some man’s chest.
From Garrett’s scowl, Sherry could only conclude that he was still worried about imposing on her and keeping her from the party.
“Keith and I will have a ball at the virtual-reality arcade. Randy and Janice Conway have a daughter Keith’s age. You need to meet other parents. Curtis Jensen’s son is nine. He plays soccer—and I know that Keith played in Huntsville. The whole Jensen family’s involved in mountain biking, too. They’ll know how you can join these things.”
“Soccer? Yeah, Dad! And I heard a kid talking at school. He said mountain biking at Lake of the Ozarks is the coolest. We should do that.”
Garrett laughed. “Well, by all means, we need to get involved in something cool.”
“Sherry,” the boy said enthusiastically, “you can come, too. Your mom said the mountain bike in their garage belongs to you.”
A denial lay trapped in her throat. Sherry wished Keith wouldn’t be so quick to include her in his father’s plans. Then Garrett felt he had to be polite. “Count the layers of dust covering that bike, tiger,” she said. “I’m not only rusty at mountain biking, I’m corroded. Deal me out.”
When Keith looked stricken, she felt compelled to add, “Ask Mark and Nolan to go. I’ll bet they’d love taking part in some father-son outings.”
“That’d be okay. Wouldn’t it, Dad?”
“Whoa. Aren’t you two putting the cart before the horse? First I have to meet this Mr. Jensen and find out the particulars. It’s not a done deal, son.”
Sherry eyed Garrett with amusement. “Spoilsport. Don’t you ever take risks?”
Garrett didn’t respond because Keith asked him a question. “Dad, when will we know if I can keep Rags?”
He didn’t want to deal with the matter of the dog, either. He felt buffeted between the two of them as they ganged up on him. “I have to go, Keith. We’ll talk about the dog when I have time to sit down with you.”
Sherry followed him to the door. “Coward,” she murmured, stepping out
side behind him.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re loving every minute of me being on the hot seat, aren’t you? I haven’t had a single call about the dog. Plus, your mom phoned her friend Dorothy. She checked everyone in her bichon frise club and no one’s lost a dog.” Throwing a helpless glance back to where his son sat tying his shoes, Garrett muttered, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if you asked Ron how firm he is on the Association rules. Since they allow families to buy and rent here, they should expect kids to want pets.”
She tried not to smile at his reluctant concession. Didn’t want to appear smug.
He saw in her eyes how much she wanted to. “Go ahead, crow. The mutt was kind of cute after you got him scrubbed. But don’t tell Keith I said so, in case negotiations with Ron fall apart and I have to find another home for Rags.”
Sherry propped a shoulder against the door frame. “You’re pure caramel under that macho coating, Lock.”
He made a face. “Leak that to the other deans and you can kiss funding for your pet project goodbye.”
“They’re blustering, right? They aren’t really serious about closing the doors to the Hub, are they?”
“I’d say they are, yes.” Garrett didn’t see any way to soft-soap the truth.
His quiet answer jolted Sherry, though it shouldn’t have come as any great surprise. She’d fought hard every year to save existing services. The women who desperately needed what the Hub provided would be the losers. And ultimately, so would the community.
Garrett strode the three steps back to lift her chin with the tip of one finger. “I haven’t struck out yet. Trust me to save as much of the program as I can.”
She hadn’t expected his support and therefore wasn’t able to express her thanks. A nod was all she managed. It didn’t help that her lungs felt squeezed by his proximity and her insides melted at his touch. Thank goodness he didn’t linger long enough to figure out what held her tongue.
With a brisk, “See you later,” he strode quickly through the gate.
As if her boots were glued to the porch, Sherry didn’t move until she heard his truck roar to life. Keith, who’d been busy tucking in his shirt, joined her, forcing her to regroup.
Breakfast with Keith was delightful. For a child who was only eight years old, he had a wide variety of interests. On top of that, he had a stash of really dumb jokes that kept her laughing.
Something Sherry had never reckoned on was the number of college staff who ate at the Featherstone. True to their nosy natures, most dropped by her table for a variety of reasons, but really to meet Keith. Sherry could see the wheels turn in their small minds.
One of the flirtatious professors who’d hit on Garrett—in Sherry’s presence—stopped at their table and gushed, “Is this charming child Nolan’s soon-to-be son?”
Rarely catty, Sherry didn’t know what made her introduce Garrett’s son and then calmly go back to eating, instead of mentioning that she was kid-sitting. Sherry noted the jealous flare in Lynn Tabor’s eyes before she whirled and swept out.
Hindsight being always better, an hour later Sherry wished she hadn’t been so perverse. Especially when Angel recounted numerous new rumors flying around campus.
“Taking Keith to dinner with the kids and me explained why the big man gave you his house key,” Angel lectured. “Showing up with him for breakfast at the staff hangout is like flaunting that you and Lock are having an affair.”
“Get real, Angel. They’re the same gossips who labeled me a man-hater before Lock came on board.”
“Right. Which is why these juicy tidbits are so easily spread. They see this hot new jock dean thawing a formerly cold babe.”
Sherry stowed her purse. She laughed, shaking her head.
“Boss, you are one naive lady. Kill these rumors now or they’ll get uglier.”
“After tonight I’m sure they’ll die a natural death. Garrett is going to the Conways’ harvest party with Yvette. Keith and I plan to hit the arcades.”
Angel gazed down her pert nose and slapped the mail on Sherry’s desk. “Why didn’t you say so before I got all wound up?”
“It’s therapeutic to let off steam. Now your mind won’t be stuck on silly rumors while you transcribe these three tapes and run 150 copies of this test.”
Snatching them up, Angel crossed her eyes, stuck out her tongue and flounced out.
Sherry buckled down to a busy day. She only saw Garrett once, after he’d called and given her fifteen minutes to dig out old figures on the cost of the Hub’s special tutorials. He ran by at noon to pick up the twelve copies. Angel had gone to lunch. Otherwise, Sherry wouldn’t have seen him at all.
“Our meeting is getting pretty vocal,” he announced, then dashed off without filling her in on particulars.
Again Sherry realized she was relieved it was Garrett in there close to the flames instead of Kruger. Or her, she admitted ruefully. But, boy, wouldn’t she like to be a mouse in the corner when the others discovered Lock wasn’t the team player they thought they’d hired to slash away at the Hub.
For a moment her thoughts were consumed with Garrett. The glint that came into his eyes when he faced a challenge. His rakish half smile when he won a point. His silky hair that her fingers itched to touch. What prompted that?
Angel’s noisy return brought Sherry to her senses. Although she couldn’t recall what she’d been doing before Garrett walked in.
Shaken, she decided to grab a late lunch in the cafeteria. Judging by the way the few remaining occupants stopped talking when she entered the staff lounge carrying her bowl of soup, Sherry surmised she’d been the topic of conversation. Not wanting to be put in a defensive position, she left and found a quiet bench in the courtyard. From there she hurried off to class and after that, didn’t have a minute to herself.
Angel’s computer was off and the department silent by the time Sherry got back to her office to pick up her messages. One was from Ron, and she called him immediately. Good news—he’d convinced the Association to let Keith keep the dog.
“Yes!” Sherry waited until after she’d hung up to punch the air in victory. On the off chance she might catch Garrett at home or in his office, she dialed one after the other. As his home answering machine kicked in, she happened to glance at the clock.
“Yikes!” She scrambled to retrieve her purse. If the meeting was over, he and Yvette were probably at the Conway party. Rather than dwell on why that picture left a sour taste in her mouth, Sherry closed the office and rushed off to collect Keith.
* * *
NOLAN CAMPBELL touched Emily’s arm and bent close to her ear to be heard above the band the Conways had hired. “Will you be okay on your own? I see Garrett and I want a word with him.”
“Is there a problem with him serving as your best man?”
Nolan hesitated. “No. Maybe. I hope not.” He angled across the patio, leaving his wife-to-be looking perplexed.
Garrett stood in the shadow of a giant oak tree, nursing the drink he’d accepted on arrival. Yvette wanted to dance. When he’d refused, she found another partner. That suited Garrett. He’d accomplished his goal in coming. Or rather, Sherry’s goal. He’d met Randy Conway and decided his daughter was way too spoiled to make an appropriate friend for Keith. He and Curtis Jensen had hit it off. Garrett now possessed all of the facts needed to start Keith in soccer. Plus, he had a map to the mountain-biking trails.
Garrett glanced away from the dance floor as a tall form blocked his view. “Nolan.” Straightening, Garrett offered his hand and a hearty smile.
“You jerk.” Nolan crowded Garrett and avoided his hand. “If I was a fighter, I’d mop up the dance floor with you.”
Garrett’s fingers curled into his side. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Nolan’s steely gaze was meant for someone else, but encountered only tree trunk. �
�Hold on, buddy.” Garrett stepped forward, absorbing the other man’s anger. “A blind man could see you’re ticked off. But you have me at a disadvantage.” Garrett spoke softly and distinctly.
Jostled by couples coming off the small dance floor, Nolan jerked a thumb toward the side yard lit only by moonlight. “A deaf man could hear the stories floating around campus, buddy.” He dragged out the word, leaving no doubt he considered it false. “Let’s take a walk.”
Shrugging, Garrett dropped his unfinished soda into the nearest trash can. When they reached the moon-dappled yard, he turned and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “Suppose you enlighten me.”
“In a word, Sherilyn,” Nolan snapped.
Garrett waited. His shoulders tensed as his eyes traced the crowd. Was she here? Heart tripping faster, he searched for a glimpse of her impossibly short hair, listened for the sound of her throaty laughter.
Nothing. Of course—she’d taken Keith to the virtual-reality arcade. “Look, man.” He spoke more sharply than he’d intended. “Sherilyn volunteered to take Keith tonight. I tried to get her to come to the party, instead of me. She and Yvette ganged up.”
“I’m not talking about her time with Keith. At her age, I don’t even have the right to question the hours she spends in your arms. But I think you should know that on our conservative campus it’s her reputation being shredded, not yours.”
“What are you talking about?” Garrett reared back.
“As if you didn’t give her the key to your house in front of three of the biggest gossips on staff.”
Garrett wiped at sweat that suddenly beaded his brow. “Is that what set you off? Our initial budget meeting ran late. I asked her to pick Keith up from day care. Well, I didn’t ask. She offered, should the need arise. It did, suddenly. How should I have given her a key to my house? In a plain brown envelope by campus mail?”
“I suppose Sherry just happened by your place bright and early this morning, too?” Camp said curtly. “Early enough to take Keith to breakfast at the Featherstone.”
The Boss Next Door (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 17
