Before she could figure out what to do, Craig twisted free and grabbed her. He spun her as she fell, so she landed across his lap. Her bottom connected with his rock-hard thighs.
She barely had time to absorb the feeling of his body so close to hers when Danny flung himself on top of them both. His bony legs splayed over her hips and he leaned down to press his nose against hers.
"I'm the winner," he said.
She smiled. "You are?"
"Yep."
Craig laughed. She felt the vibration of sound against her arm, which was pinned against his chest. C.J. came up behind her and started tickling her. She shrieked.
"Stop that," she demanded between gasps.
"She's real ticklish," C.J. crowed in delight.
Ben started to attack, too.
Jill tried to slip away, but she was trapped. Craig leaned over, trying to shield her with his body. As his weight shifted, they all tumbled together, a wild assortment of arms and tangled legs.
She laughed until her sides ached and she couldn't catch her breath. For that moment, she was a part of the family. She knew it was temporary, but she didn't care. The warmth and happiness thawed the ice around her soul.
"Okay, boys, get up," Craig said. "While we finish breakfast, we'll decide what we're going to do this weekend. But whatever it is, we're going to do it together."
"Everything?" Danny asked as he stood up. "Even go to the bathroom?"
"You are so weird," Ben said and lunged for his brother. Danny shrieked and took off around the table. In a matter of seconds, all three of them were racing around the room.
Craig shook his head. "I think my brothers and I were worse. I don't know how my mother stood it."
"I'm sure she loved you all."
Jill stood up and brushed off her behind. Without thinking, she offered her hand to Craig. He took it and rose to his feet. Once there, he towered over her. Six feet of sexually enticing male.
"What do you want to do this weekend?" Craig asked her.
"I get a vote?"
"Sure, you're part of the family."
C.J. stopped running and leaned against her. "Let's go bike riding."
Danny flopped into his seat. His light brown hair fell into his eyes. "I wanna play baseball."
"I want to go to the movies," Ben said.
All four males stared at her. Jill was torn between wanting to belong and reminding them that she was just the temporary help. She would only be here for another three weeks. Not that she'd seen Craig interviewing anyone else for her job.
If she were smart, she would ask for the day off. Craig was home; he could handle the kids by himself. She opened her mouth to say just that.
"I'd like to not have to cook dinner tonight," she said, then wondered where that had come from.
"Done," Craig said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. "Everyone gets his or her wish."
There was a collective cheer.
Jill walked to the counter and put four pancakes on a plate. If she'd known Craig was going to be granting wishes so easily, she might have asked for something more intriguing.
* * *
They stopped to rest in the park. Craig sat on the ground with his back against a tree, while Danny flopped next to him. Ben, C.J. and Jill sprawled across a picnic table, using the attached bench seats as foot-rests.
Overhead the sun was bright, and the temperature was just warm enough not to be cool. As his boys chattered, Craig tried to remember the last time he'd taken the day off and done nothing except have fun. Usually there were errands to run and the boys had activities. But today everyone seemed to be content to be together.
"We can take the short way home," he said, then stretched. "Of course the long way goes right by the ice-cream shop."
C.J. grinned down at him. "Gee, Dad, let's go the long way."
Jill leaned over and bumped C.J.'s shoulder. "And people say you're not too smart."
He laughed. "I'm very smart."
"So smart you've got Krissie Nelson doing your math homework for you. Don't think I haven't caught on."
C.J.'s eyes widened and he looked as startled as a mouse facing down a tiger. "How'd you know that?" he asked, then clamped his hand over his mouth.
Ben laughed. "You blew it, bozo. Now you're dead meat."
C.J. looked at Jill. "She just did it at recess a couple times. How'd you find out?"
Jill arched her eyebrows. "I know everything." She touched his face. "You left your homework out on the kitchen table yesterday morning and Krissie had written a note on the paper. Cheating is stupid and you're not. Okay?"
C.J. flushed. "Yeah. Sorry." He glanced at his father. "Dad?"
Craig was torn between wanting to ground C.J. for the next fifteen years and being impressed with how Jill had handled the situation. He fought down the flicker of annoyance that she hadn't discussed it with him, then realized that in the past four days he'd only been home to sleep for a couple of hours.
"I expect better of you," he said quietly.
C.J. sucked in a breath as if he'd been mortally wounded. "Dad—" He broke off and stared at the trees for a moment. "I won't do it again."
Jill stood up and jumped to the ground. "Let's go get some ice cream," she said and headed for her bike. Everyone followed.
When C.J. walked by, Craig snagged his arm. Father and son looked at each other for a moment, then C.J. mumbled, "I'm sorry," and ducked into his embrace. Craig held him tightly for a moment.
"I know," he said and smoothed the boy's hair.
When he released him, C.J. smiled and reached for his bike. Order had been restored.
A bike path wound through the large park. Ben led the way. Craig glanced at Jill's bike. He'd borrowed it from a neighbor. She caught him staring.
"What's so interesting about my bike?" she asked.
"I didn't know the seat went down that far." It was as far down as it would go and she still had to stretch to reach the pedals.
"We aren't all descendants of Amazons," she said tartly. "Besides, you're just jealous. Short people are superior and you tall people know it."
He laughed. "How do you figure?"
"We're ecologically superior. We take up less space, use less oxygen and don't need as much food or clothing. All that and we're just as smart and productive. There's really no reason for tall people to exist at all, but as a group, short people are very kind to those less fortunate souls." She smiled sweetly, then raised her chin, obviously proud of the way she talked herself out of that one.
This afternoon she wore a short-sleeved shirt tucked into stone-washed jeans. A baseball cap covered her bright red hair and sunglasses shielded her eyes.
"You don't expect anyone to believe that, do you?" Ben asked from the front of the group.
"Yes," she shot back. "You especially!"
He laughed.
Craig tried to remember the last time he'd been out like this with the boys. Recently there hadn't been a lot of fun in their lives. He had no one to blame but himself. He'd been afraid of his children and right now he couldn't figure out why.
Some of it, he admitted, was Krystal. She'd had the unique ability to make him feel inadequate. He should have recovered from her betrayals a long time ago. Maybe he had and just hadn't realized it. Maybe he was hiding behind her memory because it was easier than facing the real world.
They came out of the park at the west end. Across the street was the ice-cream store. They waited for the light, then rode across together. After leaving their bikes outside, they entered the small establishment.
There were tiny tables and chairs with round seats pushed up against the plate glass window. In the center of the store was a long refrigerator case. C.J. and Danny raced toward it and pressed their faces close, as if they had to see the contents rather than read the labels.
"I want two scoops," Danny said.
"Me, too." C.J. licked his lips. "Rocky Road
and something else."
> "Peanut butter!"
"Gross," C.J. said good-naturedly.
Craig glanced over and saw Ben and Jill having a whispered conversation. She was pointing to the display of toppings. Ben listened intently, then nodded.
Craig strolled over to join them. "What are you going to have?" he asked Jill.
"Just some yogurt," she said. "Ice cream is too rich for me."
Ten minutes later they were all seated on the benches outside. Danny had settled on a single scoop of peanut butter. C.J. had two scoops of Rocky Road
topped with hot fudge. Craig had chosen strawberry ice cream, plain, while Jill was eating yogurt out of a cone. Ben came out of the store last. He had a large dish of yogurt covered with fruit and multicolored sprinkles.
"What was the secret conference about?" Craig asked.
Jill glanced at him, then at the three boys sitting on the next bench. There was a steady flow of traffic in the middle of the afternoon, and the sound of the cars kept their conversation from carrying. Even so, she lowered her voice.
"Ben wanted to know what he should have. He's sort of on a diet." She looked at her cone, then at him. While in the ice-cream shop she'd pulled off her sunglasses. Now he could see the bright green of her irises. "We've been walking every day." She laughed. "Actually, I've been walking. He's starting to run and jump and complain about how slow I am. He's taking a lunch to school and avoiding junk food. It's only been a week, but I can already see a difference."
Craig looked at his oldest, hoping she was right. Damn it, the boy deserved better than an unhappy childhood because of something as preventable as his weight. He knew it wasn't going to be an easy change, but it was possible.
"If nothing else, he seems happier," Craig said. "He's out bike riding with us. He never used to do that."
"I think he's afraid," she said. "Of being laughed at. Of being different. He wants to change but doesn't know how. He also doesn't want a fuss made." She smiled. "We have these very indirect conversations. I suppose at some point someone will have to discuss his weight with him, but so far, this plan seems to be working."
He reached out and touched her arm. "You've been good for all of us, Jill. I don't know how to thank you."
Something hot and smoky flared to life in her eyes. He told himself it was just a reflection of sunlight, but that didn't stop his sudden rush of desire. Then she blinked and her expression changed. For a moment, he thought she was going to remind him this was only temporary. He didn't want to hear that right now. He didn't want to do anything but sit here and eat his ice cream. He wanted to listen to the boys' chatter and feel that he was finally doing something right.
She gave him a quick smile. "You don't have to thank me," she said. "I'm having fun."
He leaned back on the bench and realized that for the first time in weeks, maybe months, the pain in his upper back and neck was gone. He shifted slightly, until their thighs brushed. Need spiraled up to his groin. The aching was a pleasant change from feeling nothing. He could want her without doing anything about the desire. He could admire her without making her a part of his life. He could like her and still be able to let her go.
At least that's what he was going to keep telling himself … for as long as it took, until the lie became truth.
* * *
Chapter 8
« ^ »
Jill could hear the baseball announcer on the television. It was about three-thirty Sunday afternoon, but despite the perfect weather, all three boys were inside, watching the game.
She paused beside the sofa. "You guys okay?" she asked.
C.J. gave her a halfhearted smile. Danny shrugged. Ben didn't bother looking at her. Craig was at the far end of the sofa, sitting on the built-in recliner, reading the Sunday paper.
"Craig?"
He glanced up at her. "Yes?"
"Do you want some popcorn or something?"
His dark eyes gave nothing away. "Sure." He returned his attention to the article he was reading.
She stood in the center of the room not sure what was going on. Yesterday had been wonderful. The five of them had spent the day together. They'd worked with Danny, gone bike riding, to the movies, then out to dinner. Afterward, they'd played cards until an hour past the boys' bedtime, because they were having such a good time. Today she felt like an unwelcome intruder spying on a secret society meeting. Signals and messages were being passed around, but she didn't know what they were. Had she done something wrong? Was everyone mad at her?
Jill tried to remember if she'd said or done something offensive the previous day, or even that morning, but she couldn't think of anything. Everyone had been fine yesterday but moody this morning.
Craig stood up and dropped the newspaper on the floor. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he brushed past her and walked up the stairs. Ben also rose to his feet and headed for the kitchen. He opened the pantry and pulled out the bag of miniature candy bars she kept for Danny and C.J.'s lunches, grabbed a handful and returned to his seat. Not once did he look at her or acknowledge her presence in the room.
"Ben, can I fix you a snack?" she asked, bewildered by his behavior. He'd been doing so well. Why was he suddenly eating candy?
He glared at her. "You're not my mother, you're just the dumb nanny. You won't even be here much longer. Quit acting like you belong and leave me alone."
Jill felt as if she'd been slapped. She didn't know whether to reprimand him or hide out in her bedroom. She settled on stunned silence. The other two boys stared at the television as if their lives depended on the outcome of the game. Ben tore off the candy wrappers and devoured the treats, one after the other. When he was done, he got up and marched past her without saying a word.
Craig passed him on the way downstairs and entered the family room. Jill stared at him. He'd changed from jeans and a T-shirt into a dark suit and cream-colored shirt. His silk tie was dark blue with flecks of gold.
"You're going out," she said. Obviously.
Craig focused his attention on some point over her left shoulder. "I don't know when I'll be back."
"What about dinner?" she asked, feeling oddly betrayed by his behavior.
He hesitated. "I don't know when I'll be back," he repeated, and then he was gone.
What on earth was going on? Had everyone been given a script but her? She sat on the sofa and stared unseeingly at the television. What was it … all-males-act-like-a-jerk day? Yesterday they'd almost been a family and today she was the enemy. It wasn't fair.
Danny crawled next to her. His big eyes were filled with a questioning pain. She wanted to ask what the problem was but suddenly she didn't have the words. When he shimmied closer, she pulled him onto her lap and wrapped her arms around him. He huddled next to her like a hurt animal seeking warmth.
A few minutes later C.J. leaned against her. She settled one arm around his shoulders. Silently, they watched the rest of the game. She didn't ask what was wrong, and they didn't offer the information. When she mentioned dinner, both boys claimed not to be hungry. They went up to their rooms and closed the doors, shutting her out.
* * *
Jill approached Ben's door and tapped softly. There was no answer. She turned the handle and pushed it open. Ben was asleep on his bed. She moved closer. The light on the nightstand was on, illuminating his face. She saw the tracks of tears on his skin. Her heart tightened inside her chest. She didn't know why he was hurting so she couldn't fix it.
She sat on the side of the bed and stroked his arm. He woke gradually. When he saw her, he bit his lower lip.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, and flung himself at her. She embraced him, feeling the awkward bones and angles of his adolescent body. He cried as if he'd lost everything dear to him. She rocked him gently, murmuring words of comfort, then sat with him until he slept again.
It was nearly nine when she made her way downstairs. Most of the lights were off. She didn't bother checking for Craig's car, so she was surprised to see him sitting in t
he family room. He leaned back against the sofa, his eyes closed, a drink in one hand.
He'd taken off his suit jacket and his tie. His shirt was open at the neck and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. She was used to seeing him in his uniform, and yesterday she'd finally convinced her heart not to flutter at the sight of him in jeans. Now she had to adjust to a completely different Craig. The successful entrepreneur. The expensive cut and material of the suit reminded her that he'd made a fortune on investments and that they really had nothing in common.
"I see you found your way back," she said. "Is everything all right?"
"You probably think we're all behaving like jerks," he said, not answering the question.
"The thought crossed my mind."
"Krystal died a year ago today."
The simple sentence caused everything to click into place. Jill sank onto the sofa and released the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. "I'm so sorry."
"No need to be," he said, not looking at her. "I don't give a damn. But it's hard on the boys."
It was hard on him, too. She could see it in the lines on his face and the way his fingers gripped the glass, but she didn't say that.
He leaned forward and pulled open a slim drawer in the front of the end table. Under some papers was a framed photograph. He handed it to her. Jill turned it toward the light and stared at the stunning woman who had once been Craig's wife.
The photograph was several years old. Craig looked younger and there wasn't any gray at his temples. He was wearing shorts and nothing else. The woman standing next to him on the beach was tall, slender and beautiful enough to be a fashion model. Dark eyes, dark hair and a smile that promised the world. She was laughing. Involuntarily, Jill found herself wanting to smile back.
Yet, as she looked closer, she saw something cruel in the expression on Krystal's face. The set of her mouth was selfish. She didn't look like the kind of woman who would be more interested in her children than herself.
"She's very beautiful," she said carefully, handing back the picture.
PART-TIME WIFE Page 9
