by Lori Foster
* * *
Joy could hear the low hum of voices in the kitchen as she returned Maris’s call. What did Jack think, seeing them together?
She didn’t have long to ponder it because Maris answered on the first ring.
“Hey, it’s Joy. Sorry I didn’t get to the phone in time.”
“I need your help tomorrow,” Maris blurted.
“Okay.” Maris didn’t sound upset, like there was a problem, but something in her voice made Joy go on alert. “Whatever you need.”
“I’m going to Daron’s house, for dinner. And...well, it’s dumb, but I want to look pretty.”
“Oh my gosh!” A hundred questions buzzed through Joy’s brain, but she said only, “You’re always pretty.”
“Prettier, then. Like...hair, makeup. A cute shirt?” Maris groaned. “We won’t have time to shop and I don’t own anything! Not even mascara. How pathetic is that?”
“It’s not pathetic at all, but don’t worry, I have it covered.” Catching on to the excitement, Joy paced the living room. “I have everything we need, and I can stop at the store tomorrow after I drop Jack off at school.”
“I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“Are you kidding? I’m already excited!” This was something Joy could do for Maris, and she could barely wait.
“I can’t look like you, hon. I mean, no skirts or—”
“You look terrific in denim! I wouldn’t think of changing anything like that.” She could imagine a pretty shirt and softer hairstyle. “You don’t need to go heavy on the makeup, either.” Joy knew that sometimes a little makeup just made a woman feel good about herself and boosted her confidence. “We’ll enhance things a bit. Do you have scissors?”
“Um...scissors?”
“We’ll trim an inch off your hair. Only an inch, I promise.” Joy didn’t know if Maris had ever cut her hair, but a trim to tidy up the ends always worked wonders. “And I have a fabulous conditioner that you’re going to love.”
“Oh wow.” Maris sounded a little dumbfounded. “Am I really doing this?”
“Having a date with Daron? About time, if you ask me.”
“I told him no sex.”
Joy huffed a laugh. “What? Why? You insisted it was good for me, but now you—”
“He’s six years younger than me.”
“Big deal. You’re both young and healthy and that’s what counts.”
With a long sigh, Maris said, “I don’t feel young.”
“Well, you are, because you’re only a year older than me and I’m young.” No way could Maris argue with that logic.
“He has a house, Joy. Did you know that?”
Of course she did, but Maris sounded so surprised Joy asked with caution, “Didn’t you?”
“No! He comes off all... I don’t know. Irresponsible.”
“Daron? Daron Hardy?” Joy repeated with disbelief. “We’re talking about the same guy, right?” Yes, Daron liked to joke and God knew he had his fair share of female admirers, but Joy could never fault him on his sense of responsibility. “The same man who pitches in to help anyone who needs it, who keeps everything in the park working, who stays late or comes in early when something goes wrong? The same Daron who always answers his phone, smiles at everyone while working his behind off, who—”
“Ugh, enough already.” Maris sucked in an audible breath. “You know what I’m talking about. He makes everything a joke.”
Gently, Joy said, “It’s called being happy.”
Two pulse beats of time passed, then Maris muttered, “Shit.”
“It’s true,” Joy offered, “that he teases you more than anyone else. Always has. We all realize it’s because he has a thing for you, and you...well, you seem to like everyone except him.”
Sounding hurt and defensive, Maris whispered, “I like him.”
“But you’re afraid of liking him too much?”
“I already said shit, right?” She groaned loudly, then said it again, a little louder. “Shit.”
Joy grinned. “It’ll be fine. You two will talk over dinner and work out any misunderstandings. I’ll get to the camp store early tomorrow so we can make plans.”
“Maybe I could have him pick me up at your place? That way you could help me spiff up and I won’t have a chance to ruin it?”
“Love that idea. Consider it a date!” Smiling, she disconnected—and found Royce standing there, Chaos sitting on his foot, Jack leaning against his thigh. The three of them watched her.
Royce asked mildly, “Date?”
Though he tried to seem relaxed, resting one hand on Jack’s shoulder, wariness had crept into his expression.
Silly man.
Joy could barely work out a time to see him, so he shouldn’t think she’d have time—and definitely not interest—to see anyone else.
“With Maris,” she specified. “For some girl stuff.” Even saying it made Joy want to laugh in giddy excitement. Maris might expect big changes, but they weren’t necessary. With her dark blond hair and naturally dark lashes and brows, any more than the barest makeup would be too much. Joy knew exactly what she wanted to do, the top she wanted to loan Maris and the advice she’d give before she left.
For now, though, Royce continued to watch her, so she tucked away her phone and picked up Jack’s coat. Leaning toward him, speaking in a stage whisper, she stated, “Maris is going to Daron’s for dinner.”
The surprise she expected never came. Instead, Royce tipped back his head and groaned. “Guess that means tomorrow is out for us.” When he looked at her again, he wore a lopsided grin. “Good for Daron, though.”
Smiling, Joy handed Jack’s coat to him and sat down on the couch to pull on her boots. “Remember, call anytime.”
Jack, not understanding the significance of that, said, “Yeah, call us. We can come over to dinner again.” He held Chaos’s face. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”
Chaos gave an enthusiastic yes.
“Well, now,” Royce said. “Your mom will have to let me know your favorite foods.”
Jack’s face lit up. “I’ll eat anything!”
With a roll of her eyes, Joy said, “If only he felt that way at home.”
Turning on her, Jack said, “But you cook fish.”
She grabbed for him, but he squealed and ducked behind Royce, which got Chaos superpumped for a game.
Laughing, Joy said, “I try fish. Occasionally.” With a mock frown aimed at Jack, she added, “Someone says it smells bad.”
Falling to his back and sprawling out like a starfish, Jack groaned. “It’s terrible!”
“Personally, I love fish.” Royce scooped up Chaos before he could accidentally scratch Jack’s face. The pup’s paws were oversized for his body, which meant he had a lot of growing to do yet. “When fish is raw, it smells, but once it’s cooked... Mmm. Delicious.”
Cracking open one eye, Jack peered up at him. “I could try your fish.”
“My son,” Joy said. “The master manipulator.”
“Tell you what.” Royce knelt down beside him, Chaos still held close with one thick arm. “Each time you come to dinner, you have to agree to try something new. Deal?” He held out a hand.
Rolling to his bottom, Jack sat facing him, ready agreement tripping off his tongue. “Deal.”
They shook hands.
“If you decide you like fish, we could try catching our own in the spring.”
In the spring? Around Jack’s enthusiastic response, which included jumping up and down, Joy wondered where they’d be in the spring. A fling couldn’t extend that long, could it?
When it eventually ended, as she assumed it had to, would they remain friends? Would Royce still be a part of her son’s life? Jack might be satisfied with that arrangement, but Joy couldn’t imagine a
time when she’d see Royce and not want him. Like now.
Royce, Jack and Chaos all tumbled around the floor, wrestling and laughing, with Royce alternately hefting Jack into the air over his head, and playfully pinning him down so Chaos could lick his face. It was an irresistible scene, hearing her son’s hilarity and seeing how comfortable he was with Royce.
One that made her long for more.
It would be so easy to fall in love with Royce.
Heck, she was already halfway there.
* * *
“Wow.” Maris looked in the mirror, turning her head this way and that. “Trimming off that tiny bit made a big difference.”
“The conditioner helped, too.” As did the way Joy blew out her hair for her, using a round brush to add some volume. “You have gorgeous hair. I know women who would pay big bucks to get those summer highlights, and yours are natural.”
“Life in a sunny park,” Maris said, peering closer to see her eyes. “The mascara is nice, too. It’s just enough that I look like me, but better.”
Joy grinned, pleased with the results. “And the sweater?” She’d borrowed from her own closet, choosing a black, crisscross sweater with a wide V-neck. She’d bought it on clearance, then regretted the purchase when, the one time she’d worn it, it had felt too revealing, like she might actually fall out. Because Maris had a smaller bust, it fit her perfectly.
She was also shorter than Joy, so it crossed at exactly the right spot. Luckily, Maris had worn a black bra.
Paired with trim-fitting faded jeans and black boots, Maris looked amazing.
She slanted Joy a look. “Now I have boobs.”
That made Joy laugh out loud. “You’ve always had them. You just wear boxy T-shirts and sweatshirts that make them harder to notice.” She glanced at Jack, saw he was involved painting with the kit Royce had bought him. Knowing he wasn’t listening, she said low, “That never slowed Daron down, though, which is why he was always teasing you.”
“Yeah, well, he can’t miss ’em tonight, can he?” Maris shook her head, making her hair drift back and forth over her shoulders. “It feels so different. I keep it in a ponytail so it’s not in my way, but this is more feminine.”
“Most women like changing up their look every now and then.”
“And those boxy shirts? They’re comfortable for working.”
Joy turned Maris to face her. “You’re not working tonight, and I’m going to give you the same advice you gave me, but maybe tempered a little. Have fun.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
Joy didn’t like that lack of confidence. It wasn’t Maris’s way. “You really do look terrific.”
She nodded. “Thanks. You do great work. It’s just... I’m wondering if this is all too obvious?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is Daron going to think I want to impress him? Because I don’t. I’m doing this for me, not him.”
It was a novel thing, seeing Maris struggle with uncertainty. In a way, it made her even more likable. “I vote you do it for both of you.”
There was a knock at the door, and Maris blanched.
“I’ll get it,” Jack said, already scrambling out of his chair.
“Look out the window first,” Joy reminded him. They’d arranged for Daron to meet Maris here so they could ride together to his house. Still, she wanted Jack to always be careful.
Hand to her stomach, Maris whispered, “This is a mistake.”
Joy lifted her brows. Wow, Maris really was nervous. How crazy was that? Grabbing her up in a hug, Joy said, “This is amazing. Now put on your game face and get ready to have a well-deserved good time.”
Chapter Ten
Daron knew he needed to stop staring, but...damn. He’d been half-hard ever since he laid eyes on Maris tonight. She’d greeted him in Joy’s apartment with a discernible chip on her shoulder. Her beautiful, almost bare shoulder...which led into the creamy skin of her chest and down into mouthwatering cleavage.
Maris as her usual self was tempting enough.
This was just overkill.
“How far to your house?” she asked.
“Almost there.” He tried to keep it together because tonight was to show her he respected her rules, that he was a grown-ass man, and that they had more in common than she thought. “You warm enough?”
“Yes.”
That curt answer didn’t reassure him, especially with the way she sat huddled in the seat, her arms folded around her, her shoulders up. Since he’d picked her up, his truck hadn’t completely lost the heat, but the wind outside sent tree branches dipping and dried leaves tumbling. In the space of a few hours, a cold front had moved in and it felt more like winter than fall. If they got the precipitation that the dark clouds predicted, there’d be problems at the park tomorrow.
Last he’d noticed, a few couples were in the cabins, one young man was in a tent and three RVs remained on the property. He didn’t expect any of them to last much longer, especially with the weather changing.
“Here we are.” His headlights danced over the front windows as he turned into the driveway. He hit the garage door opener and pulled into the single car space.
As Maris opened her seat belt, she checked out the shelving and the tools placed precisely on pegboards. “So tidy.”
For some reason, it made him feel self-conscious. “Yeah, well, being organized is a necessity at the park so naturally it carries over.” He got out and circled the car, but she didn’t wait for him and was already out, hugging herself again, before he reached her.
“Come on.” He took her elbow and led her to the two steps up into the kitchen. This was his favorite room of the house, with the bright white Shaker cabinets and black granite tops.
She looked around in something close to awe. “It’s so warm.”
“The slate floor is heated. Same in the bathroom. When I’m home, I prefer to go barefoot.” And he was often in just his boxers. “When I remodeled things, I tried to figure out all the modern gadgets, you know?” Like a kid showing off his first car, Daron stepped over to the sink to point out the faucet. “I agonized over this beauty the most, but...” It suddenly hit him that he was being rude. “Here, let me take your coat.”
“Thank you.” She stripped it off and handed it to him.
As if it didn’t leave her standing there looking like his hottest fantasy.
While he soaked in the sight of her, she pushed up her sleeves and tested the hands-free faucet. “Huh. That’s pretty neat.” She dried her hands. “Will you show me the rest?”
“Sure.” It might not matter, but he wanted her to see that he was settled, that he had as much yearning for home and hearth as the next person.
A tour through the house that should have taken three minutes took twenty with Maris admiring every small detail and giving lots of oohs and aahs.
Showing her the bedrooms tested Daron. The smallest, which was really small, was still mostly empty. The guest room was sort of an office with a foldout bed on one wall and a desk and chair on the other, and his room...well, his room made him think about getting her on the king-size bed. Naked.
But by God he’d follow her rules if it killed him, and to that end, he led her back to the kitchen. “Something to drink? Beer, wine?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Tea?”
“I have bottled but not fresh. Is that okay?”
“Yes.” She slid her sexy behind into one of the chairs along the island bar. “So you’re going to have a chicken dinner sometime tonight?”
“It’s mostly done, smart-ass.” He grinned as he set her drink on the counter with a paper napkin. Turning, he opened the oven and showed her the fried chicken, already cooked and keeping warm, with an oven-safe bowl of mashed potatoes beside it. “I fixed everything before I left to get you.”
“G
ood, because I’m hungry.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Mmm. Smells delicious.”
For a second, Daron couldn’t pull his gaze away, caught by that soft, somehow sensual expression on her face. When her lashes lifted, it jolted him back to reality and he grabbed up a pot holder to get out the food.
His hands shook. Crazy.
But yeah, he wanted her that much, had wanted her for too long, and now he had her here and his main goal was not sex.
Somehow he’d survive, but he suspected the evening would be both pleasure and torture.
Using tongs, he put the chicken on a platter. With a serving spoon he stirred the potatoes. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he said, “I had two tomatoes left on the vine. Just picked them yesterday. Give me five minutes and I’ll have it on the table.”
She turned to see the small four-seat table in his connected dining room. “You already set the table, too.”
“For you.” And only for her. “I usually eat here at the bar or on the couch watching TV.”
She went quiet, too quiet, as he cut the tomatoes into thick slices. Nothing fancy, but then he wasn’t a fancy cook. Yeah, he could read a cookbook and follow directions, but his tastes ran more toward down-home cooking.
“Where do you sit with your dates?”
He paused on his way to the table. Maris stayed half turned away, only her eyes slanted toward him, almost like she didn’t want to face him head-on.
It pissed him off a little, her mentioning other dates. He was here with her, and no one else mattered. He didn’t think saying that would score him any points, though, so he tried to be honest. “I don’t generally cook dinner for other women.”
“Don’t bother feeding them, huh?”
Yeah, she was out for battle. Was this another of her defensive moves? A way to make him lose interest?
No way to tell for sure, but he’d gotten her this far so he wouldn’t give up easily.
“If I do,” he said as he put the dishes on the table, “it’s pizza or something like that.” There, let her stew on that.
He walked past her, trying his damnedest not to scowl, and adjusted the playlist on his phone so muted music filled the air. “Tea okay with your dinner, or did you want something else?”