Despite every bit of logic screaming Annie was way too young for him, her mixture of sweetness and sass fascinated him. He smiled, unable to resist cocking an inquiring eyebrow at her, asking the unspoken question—your place or mine?
Her friend’s furtive glances and horrified expression indicated Annie must have told her about Erica. They probably thought he was pure slime for flirting with a woman after losing his wife and unborn baby so recently. Especially since he’d hit puberty about the same time Annie was potty-training. How could they know it’d been two years since he’d been intimate with his wife?
Nonetheless, to protect Mandy’s memory of her mother, he would continue to let the world believe Erica had been carrying his child when she died. They were welcome to think the worst of him because no way would he keep his life on hold a second longer simply to satisfy society’s idea of a proper grieving period.
He’d finished mourning his marriage a long time ago and had stayed with Erica because of her illness and his daughter. Unless a father could prove abuse or neglect, judges usually still favored the mother for custody. He hadn’t been able to bear the thought of only seeing his little girl a few days a month—not to mention he didn’t trust Erica to give Mandy enough attention.
His wife’s mood disorder may have compelled her to spend more time at the mall, the beauty salon, and seducing men from the country club than she had in making a home for him and their daughter, but she’d loved Mandy and had been better than no mother at all. Now, his daughter needed more than just her aunt’s occasional feminine influence in her life.
Annie brushed a wisp of hair from her face, and a flash of gold on her left hand gleamed in the sunlight.
Great. She was already married. From the way she’d smiled at him, he’d stupidly assumed she was single. It was just as well. She was way too young.
She waved to her friend and strolled back toward him, calling over her shoulder to the other woman, “I’d better get home to Mitch. If I don’t give him some lovin’ before I leave for work, he’ll find a way to punish me.”
Tyler could only pity her if her husband was anything like the selfish low-life who’d sired him.
“You shouldn’t put up with him behaving like that,” he said when her path crossed his.
“I don’t have much choice.” Annie sighed as he fell into step beside her, heading toward his car. “It would break my son’s heart if I got rid of him.”
Or so she assumed. Her kid might actually applaud if she kicked his old man out. Tyler certainly would’ve celebrated if his mother had been strong enough to demand a better life for him and his sister. “I wasn’t suggesting making him leave. I was thinking of counseling.”
“Right.” She snorted. “I can barely afford to feed the beast. I’m not about to waste money on a doggy shrink.”
His jaw went slack. “Mitch is a mutt?”
“Sure.” She laughed. “Who’d you think I was talk—” She glanced down at the ring on her finger. “Oh, right. It was my late mother’s. I wear it on this finger to keep sleazy lechers from propositioning me.”
“Ouch.” He winced. “I occasionally have impure thoughts, but I’m definitely not sleazy.”
“I didn’t mean you. I was referring to the married variety who assumes that, as a single mother, I’m willing to jump into bed with anyone.”
“I’m grateful you’re not lumping me in with them.” He was especially glad to hear she was nothing like Erica. Despite the lunacy of his attraction, there was no denying his urge to get to know Annie better. Just because he dated and became friends with a woman, didn’t mean he had to marry her.
“So what kind of dog is Mitch?” he asked to keep the conversation alive.
“The vet says he’s mostly yellow Lab. He looks a lot like the dog from the movie Marley and Me, except he makes that animal seem well-behaved.”
He could listen to her lilting voice all day, but if he wanted to ask her out, now was his chance. He wiped his sweating palms on his suit trousers. It had been nearly ten years since he’d asked anyone for a date. He flashed one of his most charming smiles at her, attempting to hide his nervousness. “So, uhh, how about dinner some evening?”
Her eyes screamed a Harry-met-Sally Yes! But her mouth said, “Sorry, I don’t date. Not even reputable lechers. And I have sincere doubts about you, considering you’re asking me out less than three months after losing your wife.”
“I know it may sound heartless, but if it weren’t for Mandy and Erica’s pregnancy, my marriage probably would’ve ended a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m still not interested.”
Evidently she needed to know a man longer than ten minutes before she agreed to break bread with him. At least she’d directed her rejection at his entire gender and not only him.
“Okay.” He shrugged one shoulder, trying desperately to act as if her refusal hadn’t stung. “But I think we could have a good time. If you change your mind, let me know.”
He opened his car door and glanced at the expensive watch his sister and buddy, Luke, gave him flak over. Wonderful. He had six hours to drive to and from his law practice in Princeton and squeeze in ten hours worth of work before he had to be back at the school.
Originally, he’d intended to take the rest of the week off while he hired a housekeeper who would also look after his daughter. Unfortunately, last minute developments in his negotiations had put the kibosh on that plan.
Even though hiring domestic help would solve his childcare problems, it wouldn’t buy Mandy the maternal TLC she craved. What she really needed was a stepmother. Ergo—he needed a wife.
He’d been randy and stupid when he’d married Erica, letting his libido and professional aspirations blind him to what was important in a mate and mother. The next time, he wasn’t settling for a woman who would simply be an asset to him in his business and social life. He was holding out for the real thing. He wanted companionship and love. Unfortunately, years of loneliness had worn his patience to a frazzle.
Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone and run a classified ad that read, Wanted: Young, sexy housekeeper to cook, clean, provide childcare, and warm the bed in the master suite. Future possibility of marriage. Sense of humor required.
He slipped behind his car’s steering wheel and laughed. An editor would probably insist on placing that kind of ad in the personal column.
Annie stopped in her tracks a few feet beyond his car and glanced back. “What’s so funny?”
Ooops. “Nothing.” He suppressed his smile. “Would you like a lift home? Or did you walk to the school for the exercise?”
“No. I get plenty of that working.” Her yearning gaze scanned his Jaguar. “My car is two trips away from the junkyard, and with the price of fuel, I try to go as many places as I can on foot power.”
“Hop in.” He reached across the seat and opened the passenger door. “I’ll have you home in two shakes and a wigg—whistle,” he corrected, cringing inwardly. Idiot. And you wonder why you bombed with her.
Her hesitation suggested she wasn’t sure whose home he’d been referring to. She blinked several times before she finally slid into the leather bucket seat next to him and ran her hand appreciatively over the dashboard as if she were sensually caressing a lover.
Squashing the image, he shoved the gearshift into first. “Where to?”
“Turn right. I’m less than mile down the main road.” She directed him to the dilapidated cottage situated directly across from the winding lane that led to his five-bedroom home.
Annie’s tiny house had been built on the busy thoroughfare at least fifty years ago, long before the suburbs of Philadelphia had expanded northward and turned Bucks County into a haven for young executives. In recent years, the rolling countryside, previously dotted with picturesque farms, had been slowly devoured by high-priced residential subdivisions like his.
Her home desperately needed a new roof and paint job. With every pa
ssing minute, his respect for her grew by leaps and bounds. It was obvious she was barely hanging on financially. But it was also equally apparent that she hadn’t let life beat her down.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d listened to his neighbors gripe about what an eyesore her property was and how the town should condemn it. Still, her little bungalow was too reminiscent of his childhood home for him to pass judgment on it. He glanced across the street at the professionally landscaped entrance to his prestigious development. He’d come a long way from his shabby impoverished past—but not nearly far enough to forget it.
He swung the car into her cracked driveway next to a rust-speckled subcompact and then jumped out to open her door.
“Thanks for the lift.” She took the hand he offered to help her out of the car, and the air stalled in his chest. “I hope the rest of your day is better.”
“You’re not the only one.” He blew out his breath, trying to ignore his schoolboy reaction to her simple touch. “I never realized what a tough job mothers have.”
“It just takes a lot of love, devotion, and patience,” she said in a rehearsed tone that sounded as if she needed convincing as much as he did. “And laughter can’t hurt.”
“I have the love and devotion covered. Hopefully, I’ll develop the patience and sense of humor before Mandy goes to college.”
Otherwise the next twelve years were going to seem like an eternity—for both of them.
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I praise God for giving me the imagination and ability to write. So many people have contributed to my career and helped mold me into the author I’ve become. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank:
My husband who’s given me more support than any writer could hope for and who is the kind of man who inspires all of the best characteristics of the heroes in my stories
My son—not just for his encouragement and advice, but for blessing me with the best daughter-in-law any woman ever had and for giving me an adorable grandson
My wise daughter who never doubts me and who did me the favor of marrying a wonderful man, who is also a talented author
My mom who passed on the love of reading to me and who never lets me forget there are other things in life besides writing
My father and my dear late friend. Both of you believed in me but left us too soon to share in my joy. I miss you both every day.
My sister and sisters-in-law, a/k/a my most faithful cheerleaders
My nieces and nephews who motivated me to keep going and compelled me to set an example of perseverance
My brother and brother-in-law who never considered my writing a hobby
My prior neighbor and good friend who convinced me to join RWA® and start writing
My critique partner and sister-of-the-heart who never lets me down in pointing out why my babies aren’t ready for the runway
My beta-readers and good friends
Romance Writers of America® and all its generous members who helped me learn to use the talent I was blessed with
The members of the RWA Chapters Bucks County Romance Writers, New Jersey Romance Writers, and the Golden Network
All my Golden Heart friends from 2004, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2010, and 2011—especially my 2009 Ruby-Slippered Sisters with whom I share a multi-author blog at http://www.rubyslipperedsisterhood.com
A Heart Decision Page 26
