by Gina Wilkins
Tom was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, with Kenny sitting precariously in front of him, supported by Tom’s strong hands. The baby pumped his arms and cooed, nearly toppling over before Tom steadied him.
“He’s getting this sitting-up thing almost knocked,” Tom said, looking back at Kenny proudly. “As soon as we conquer this, we’re going to start working on his passing game.”
To say that Tom had bonded with the baby during the past week was a slight understatement. Every day when he had come home, he’d headed straight for Kenny, who now greeted him with grins and squeals of delight. Leslie had been forced to remind herself on several occasions that it was incredibly petty to be jealous of an infant.
But just once, she would have liked for Tom to greet her with the same fond smile he seemed to reserve for her ward, instead of the polite formality he displayed with her.
He hadn’t even touched her in days.
Tom glanced away from the baby for a moment. “Ready to go?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“Try to restrain your enthusiasm.”
Leslie wrinkled her nose. “It’s not that I don’t want to see your friends again. It’s just...well, it could get awkward.”
“Being feted as happy newlyweds?” He shrugged. “So we’ll pretend.”
“It really doesn’t bother you to deceive your friends that way?”
“Leslie, we are newlyweds. And I’m not particularly unhappy, are you?”
“Well, no, but...”
“It’s not such a great deception. Any further details are no one’s business but our own.”
“Zach will be there, won’t he? I’m pretty sure his wife said he wasn’t on duty tonight.”
“Yeah, he’ll be there. I ran into him earlier today and he told me he’d see me tonight.”
“He’s off tomorrow, too. If the two of you want to hang out or something, don’t feel that you have to change your plans for my sake.”
Tom shook his head. “Zach and I don’t have any plans for the weekend. I thought maybe you and I could do something with Kenny tomorrow. Maybe go for a drive in the hills or something.”
He and Leslie had once loved taking long leisurely country drives. Often, she remembered, in the tiny classic MGB that had been his pride and his hobby. She’d asked about the car a couple of days ago. Tom had told her without expression that he had sold it after his accident.
She missed that little car almost as much as she missed the way Tom had been before.
She almost cringed as she remembered the cutting things she’d said when she’d left him. How she’d accused him of being reckless and foolhardy, frivolous and irresponsible.
What she wouldn’t give to have him back that way again, instead of this quiet, prickly, physically and emotionally wounded man he’d become.
He got carefully to his feet, making certain he kept his balance on the way up. And then he reached down to hoist Kenny into his arms, wincing only a little with the motion. Watching him, Leslie thought that Tom wasn’t nearly as hindered by his injuries as he’d convinced himself. There were still many things he could do, and do well. It was his confidence that was still in need of healing.
She wished there were something she could do to help him with that.
They bundled the baby into a warm fleece coverall over the red-striped shirt and cute denim overalls he already had on, then wrapped him in a blanket. Tom carried him out to Leslie’s car, which they’d chosen because the baby’s safety seat was still fastened into it. Leslie carried the ever-present diaper bag. Growing increasingly proficient at the task, Tom strapped Kenny into the car seat.
Leslie tossed him the keys. “You drive. You know the way.”
It was the first time he’d driven her expensive sports car. Within a few miles, he was hooked.
“Drives great, doesn’t it?” He leaned back into the deep leather seat, hands comfortably around the leather-wrapped steering wheel.
“Yes. Of course, I bought it because I wanted to impress the partners at the law firm,” she admitted wryly. “That was back when I was still playing the-one-who-dies-with-the-most-expensive-toys-wins. Before I discovered what really mattered.”
“Takes some folks a lifetime to learn that status symbols don’t equal success as a human being,” Tom said with a shrug. “Or to figure out how wrong it is to make possessions more important than people. I’ve seen families lose everything they owned in fires and yet still consider themselves truly blessed because they hadn’t lost one another.”
“I still plan to sell this car. Though it’s paid for, I really can’t afford it now. I’d be better off with a lower-maintenance economy car.”
“If you’re really attached to it, we’ll find a way for you to keep it.”
“It’s just a car,” she said with a faint smile. “It won’t hurt me to sell it any more than it probably bothered you to get rid of the MG.”
He grimaced. “That smarted a bit,” he admitted.
“Then why did you sell it?”
He shrugged and focused grimly on the road ahead. “I was off my feet so long after the accident that I wasn’t sure when I would be able to work on it again. You probably remember how much time it took keeping it tuned and running smoothly, especially in the winter. Someone made me a generous offer for it, and I accepted.”
“And now you regret it.”
He cleared his throat, looked quickly at her and then away. “No, not really. It was a practical decision at the time.”
Arriving at a modest, relatively new housing development on the east side of town, he made two right turns, then pulled onto a street lined with several cars and trucks at the curb. “That’s Sherm’s place,” he said, nodding toward a yellow-sided, ranch-style house with a nice-sized fenced yard in which two big dogs waited to greet arriving guests.
“I see he still has Killer and Bruiser,” Leslie commented, recognizing the mutts. “They’ve gotten bigger.”
“They were little more than oversized pups last time you saw them. They’re full grown now.”
“Still friendly, I hope.”
“Ridiculously so, considering the names Sherm saddled them with,” he assured her. “They love everybody. Kim even sort of likes them, and she’s usually afraid of dogs.”
“She shares your mother’s phobia?”
Tom shook his head. “Not that bad. Kim’s just not a ‘dog person,’ in her words. But nobody can help liking these two clowns—with the exception of my mom, of course.”
“Looks like quite a few people are here,” Leslie observed, and twisted her fingers nervously in her lap.
“I think Chris Patton and Mike Henry are on duty tonight—oh, and Jeff Samples and Leroy Kuykendall and Billy Joe Brownlee. The rest of the gang is probably here. Everyone shows up when Sherm and Sami have parties. In fact, it was just a week ago tonight that they threw their last one, a small dinner party in honor of Valentine’s Day.”
“Which is where you’d been the night I came back to town,” Leslie remarked.
“Right. It’s Sami’s cooking that draws everyone. She’s still the best cook in Washington County—with the exception of my wife, of course,” he added hastily.
Leslie giggled. “You’d better say that if you want me to keep making your dinners.”
Tom turned off the car and reached out to run a finger down the side of her cheek. “I like hearing you laugh that way,” he murmured. “I’ve missed the laughter between us.”
“So have I,” she whispered, reaching up without thought to capture his hand against her face.
He leaned over the console to kiss her. She didn’t know if he was trying to boost her confidence for the ordeal ahead, or if there was more to it than that, but at the moment she didn’t really care. It seemed so long since he’d last kissed her. And she silently acknowledged now that she’d been wanting him to ever since.
She closed her eyes and savored, storing the memory of his caress for the long, lonely night
that lay ahead.
Tom seemed in no hurry to end the kiss. And then Kenny piped up from the back seat, making a high, questioning sound that seemed to ask what in the world was taking them so long to get out of the car.
Tom’s mouth curved into a smile against Leslie’s lips. Without drawing away, he said, “Just a minute, kid. I’m kissing your mom.”
Leslie was so surprised and touched at hearing Tom call her Kenny’s mom that she practically melted against him when he pressed his lips to hers again. It was so dangerously easy to fantasize about the three of them being together like this—
A thump on the roof of the low car broke them apart.
“Hey, Lowery,” Zach McCain called through the window glass. “Cut that out. You’ve got an innocent kid in the back seat, for crying out loud.”
Tom sighed and pulled back from Leslie with a gratifying show of reluctance. “Looks like the party has already begun,” he said. “You ready?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “As ready as I’m going to be.”
“You get the diaper bag. I’ll get the kid.”
She only nodded again, thinking that Tom seemed almost eager to be the one to carry Kenny into the house.
He opened his door. “McCain, you pervert,” he complained loudly as he climbed out from behind the wheel. “What are you doing sneaking around peering into windows?”
Zach retorted with something equally insulting, and Leslie was lost for a moment in nostalgia for the way it used to be. And then she glanced at the ring on her left hand, took another deep breath and told herself she’d better keep her thoughts in the present if she was going to handle this evening with any semblance of dignity.
Tom and Leslie were surrounded the moment they walked into the Gilbert house. Even if they hadn’t been making their first appearance as newlyweds—a dramatic enough moment on its own—the baby would have drawn a crowd.
Tom was almost amused at his own surge of pride at having his friends see him with Leslie at his side and Kenny in his arms. He felt very much the new husband and new father, and even knowing that this was only an illusion in many ways, he allowed himself to enjoy the sensation.
It sure beat the “Poor Tom” image he’d been fighting among his friends for the past fifteen months.
Leslie remembered many of Tom’s friends, though several new faces had joined the circle while she’d been gone. Tom allowed Sami, ever the gracious hostess, to make most of the introductions, while he fended off questions and teasing comments. Kenny didn’t seem to mind the attention; just the opposite, in fact. He grinned and gurgled in response to the inevitable funny faces and baby talk, his chubby little hand clutching Tom’s shirt collar for balance, his feet kicking happily.
Sherm Gilbert made his way through the crowd, carrying his tiny, five-week-old daughter in the crook of his arm much as he’d once carried footballs. His ebony face creased with a smile at the sight of Tom holding Kenny. “What you got there, Lowery?”
“This,” Tom said with a grin, “is Kenny.”
“Hey, there, Kenny.” Sherm chucked the baby’s chin with a sausage-sized finger. “This is my daughter, Katie. You can be her friend, but keep your hands to yourself.”
“Practicing for when she’s a teenager?” Tom leaned over to admire the tiny cherub in her frilly white dress. A white hair bow was clipped among her thick black curls, and her huge brown eyes dominated her smooth face with its perfect rosebud mouth. “You just might have cause for concern.”
“Gives me cold chills just thinking that far ahead,” Sherm admitted.
Tom wondered suddenly what the odds were that he would see little Kenny as a teenager. But thoughts about the future left him feeling empty and unsettled, so he pushed them aside.
“By the way, Tom, congratulations on your marriage,” Sherm said warmly. “I always thought you and Leslie made a nice couple, though I have to admit I was floored when I heard that you’d up and married out of the blue like this.”
Tom would have liked to know what rumors were circulating about that hastily arranged ceremony, whether anyone believed the official explanation that he and Leslie had remained in contact after she’d left town, and had decided to marry when she’d become responsible for her stepsister’s orphaned son, both for the baby’s sake and because they wanted to be together. It made a nice little story. Did any of his friends buy it?
Tom saw that Leslie was chatting easily enough with Sherm’s exotically pretty wife, Sami—probably swapping baby stories, he guessed. Kim approached the group and joined in the conversation just as Zach strolled to the relatively quiet corner where Tom and Sherm stood with the babies. Zach’s hands were full of samples of the delicious finger foods Sami had prepared and displayed in enticing groupings on every available surface. Former social worker Sami Gilbert was a whiz at throwing a party, somehow making it look easy. More than a few had suggested that she go into business helping others plan and host social events, but Sami seemed content to be a stay-at-home wife and mom for now.
Tom couldn’t help wondering how long Leslie would be satisfied in that role. Already he was seeing signs of restlessness in her. Remembering how driven and ambitious she’d been in her law career, he found it hard to imagine that she would be able to stay away from it for long.
“Man, look at you two,” Zach jeered after swallowing a stuffed mushroom in two big bites. “What are you talking about—which disposable diaper keeps baby’s butt drier?”
Unperturbed, Sherm rocked his drowsy daughter and grinned. “You just wait until you and Kim have kids of your own. You’ll probably be the proudest pop around.”
“You could be right,” Zach acknowledged, glancing across the room toward his wife, his expression softening.
The men were suddenly descended upon by Leslie, Sami, Kim and several other determined-looking women.
“You guys have hogged the babies long enough,” Sami announced, reaching for her daughter. “It’s our turn to play with them.”
Leslie held out her hands to Kenny, who grinned and reached for her. “You should check out the food tables,” she advised Tom. “I’ve already sampled and everything is scrumptious.”
“’S good,” Zach agreed, his mouth full of something.
Everyone laughed. Kim sighed, rolled her eyes and punched her husband’s arm. “Try not to embarrass me in front of your friends, will you?” she begged him, though she sounded resigned to the inevitable.
Zach swallowed with a gulp. “Are you going to hold the babies?” he asked her. “Sherm seems to think we should be practicing.”
Kim blushed, but looked with renewed interest at the infants. “I don’t know if I should hold them. They’re both so little, and I haven’t had much experience with babies....”
“You’ll never get over your fear of holding one until you give it a try,” Zach told her cheerfully.
For as long as Zach and Kim had been together, Tom had watched Zach challenge Kim to overcome the many fears she’d once suffered from, and he’d watched Kim slowly gain confidence as a result of Zach’s unwavering belief in her. It was a partnership that worked well: a man who feared nothing and a woman who’d once been afraid of everything. They balanced each other nicely, in Tom’s opinion.
As though he fully understood the conversation, Kenny lunged toward Kim, arms outstretched. Perhaps he was drawn by her brightly colored sweater and shiny, dangling earrings, but he made it clear in his baby-arrogant manner that he wanted to visit her. Laughing, Leslie handed him over to Kim, who held the baby awkwardly at first and then increasingly comfortably as he babbled and snatched eagerly at her earrings.
The women carried the babies off, leaving the guys empty-handed.
“I don’t know about you two,” Sherm said, already moving, “but I’m heading for the food.”
“Right behind you,” Tom assured him.
“Me, too.” Zach obviously didn’t want to be left behind. “I’m ready for a second helping.”
&nbs
p; Nina had spent the past three days convincing herself that she’d overreacted to Steve after the basketball game Tuesday evening. Maybe she’d been thrown off balance by her fright after the large dog’s sudden appearance. Maybe she’d simply been awkward and uncertain because it had been so long since she’d been on a date with an attractive man.
The point was, she’d acted like a flustered schoolgirl, which was ridiculous for a woman her age. Just because Steve had kissed her senseless, had indicated that he was attracted to her on both a mental and a physical level, had more than implied that he had an intimate relationship in mind for them, she shouldn’t have dithered around like an idiot. She was a mature, experienced woman. She was perfectly capable of deciding who she would or would not see. When or if she would go to bed with a man. And it was up to her to determine how that decision would affect the rest of her life.
She could enjoy Steve’s company without allowing herself to get carried away with unrealistic fantasies, she assured herself firmly. She knew from experience how to say goodbye when the time came, how to carry on when a relationship ended. How to find comfort and contentment in the life she’d built for herself long before Steve Pendleton had entered it.
It wouldn’t last long, she warned herself. There were too many counts against them—from geography to age, from mixed loyalties to past histories. But dam it, everyone deserved a little fun, and she had so much fun with Steve. She should savor it, not fear it.
And that was exactly what she would do, she decided with a determined nod as she opened her door in response to the doorbell Friday evening.
Steve leaned with his right arm against the doorjamb, his leather coat dangling by one finger over his left shoulder, his dark hair falling onto his forehead, his firm body clad in a soft maroon sweater and slim-fitting jeans. It was a sexy, male-model pose that might have been deliberately assumed, except that it looked so perfectly natural for this man. And, predictably, Nina nearly dissolved into incoherence again.
So maybe this thing wasn’t going to be quite so breezy and amusing as she’d hoped. But she could still handle it, she vowed, even as he reached for her and she tumbled into his arms.
