Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever GirlMoonlight in ParisWife by Design

by Liz Talley

  “Oh, well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Wish me luck,” Monique said with a shrug before giving Emily the eagle eye. “Be good.”

  “I’m always good,” Emily said with a grin that looked far from angelic. “Let’s go, Tess.”

  “Good luck, Monique,” Tess said, relieved the woman hadn’t pressed the issue over Graham’s phone number.

  Emily grinned up at her with an excited gap-toothed smile. “I don’t want to be late for my first practice. We’re the Lake End Ladybugs. See my socks?”

  “Cool,” Tess said, allowing Emily to pull her toward the door. “Uh, do I need your car seat?”

  “I don’t sit in a car seat. I’m not a baby,” Emily said, rolling her eyes.

  Tess almost laughed. “Never thought you were, ladybug.”

  “Well, Dad makes me ride in a booster seat. He looked up rules on the internet and says I’m still not big enough to sit regular, but I’m in second grade. My dad just doesn’t get it.”

  Or maybe he did. Something about Graham taking the time to look up rules regarding booster seats and signing his slightly overweight daughter up for soccer made Tess like him even more...something she didn’t want to do. But there it was. Graham Naquin was a decent guy even if he’d stolen her place at Ullo and dropped her like a bad habit...for whatever unstated reason.

  Wait. She was supposed to forget about that. Let it go.

  Twenty minutes later, Tess pulled into the sports complex in Metairie. The afternoon had softened into evening and the emerging green field in front of her was a sea of activity.

  “I wonder what field you’re supposed to meet on,” Tess remarked as Emily opened the car door. Emily’s cleats were untied, so Tess sat the girl back on the backseat and bent to double-tie them.

  “Daddy!” Emily screamed in her ear. Tess jerked up and conked her head on the top of the door frame.

  “Ow,” she said rubbing her head and turning toward Graham, who wore a pair of khaki pants and a mint-green broadcloth button-down. Tess tried to look like she hadn’t just broken into a sweat merely looking at him.

  “Hey, where’s your mother?” Graham asked, scooping up the child who’d launched herself at him.

  “She hadda go to a meeting. Like always,” Emily said, grinning at her father. “Look at my socks. Mom got them for me.”

  Graham peered down at the child’s legs. “Looks like a ladybug to me.” He lifted his eyes to Tess and her heart sped.

  Stupid heart.

  “I’m just the chauffeur. Since you’re here now, I’ll go,” Tess said pushing the car door closed.

  “No,” Emily yelled, wiggling out of Graham’s arms. He dropped her to the ground and she bolted toward Tess, grabbing her hand. “You gotta watch me, Tess. You said you like soccer.”

  “But your dad is here,” Tess said.

  “Pleeeease.” Emily made puppy dog eyes at Tess.

  Damn it. Tess had never been able to resist puppy dog eyes. She sighed. “I’ll watch for a little while.”

  “Yippee!” Emily whirled around like only a seven-year-old could do.

  Graham eyed Tess. “How did you get suckered into this?”

  Emily overheard and said, “Mom said I couldn’t come, but then Tess said she’d take me. Tess plays soccer, too.”

  “I only play a few Saturdays a year. I sub,” Tess muttered, hoping he didn’t think she had volunteered merely so she could see him. She’d done this for Emily. Because it was crappy that her mother had chosen business over her daughter. Upstart seemed to be Monique’s primary focus in life, and though Tess could attest to her father seeing business as important, he’d never put it over her or her brothers. He’d made almost all of her soccer games even during Mardi Gras season.

  Graham gave her a smile that made her stomach flop over.

  Stupid stomach.

  She shrugged off her reaction to his charm. “So where are we heading? Uh, for soccer practice,” Tess clarified.

  Graham turned to study the fields. “The guy said it was the field in the back left.”

  Minutes later they stood in a gaggle of kids, a couple of moms and one older man struggling to balance on crutches. The man sat his clipboard on the collapsible bleachers and turned toward where they all stood. Emily stood close to Graham, looking uncertain.

  “Hey, everyone. I’m Jim Thisbe and I’m the coach of the Lake End Ladybugs. As you can see, it’s going to be a bit difficult for me to coach this season, but I’m hoping to have a few of you assist me. Anyone have any experience coaching soccer?” Jim eyed Graham, his eyebrows raised in a hopeful manner.

  Graham gave a quick shake of his head. “Sorry, dude.”

  Emily pointed a finger at Tess. “She plays soccer.”

  Jim smiled at Tess. “Very good. Love having a female coach. Always a great role model for these young girls.”

  Little heads with swinging ponytails turned her way.

  Tess felt like the kid in school who got called on and didn’t know the answer. “Uh, I’m not a parent. I’m a friend.”

  “That’s okay,” Jim said, with a panicked smile. He looked like he might latch on to her leg if she took off running. Of course, she’d have the advantage since he was gimped up. “Friends are just as good as parents.”

  Not really, but she was sure Jim was convinced of its truth. “You don’t understand. I’m not really available.” Tess gave him an apologetic smile.

  “Oh.” Jim looked at the other parents assembled. “Anyone else know how to play soccer? Anyone?”

  Blank looks all around.

  One woman held up a hand. “I have a cousin who played. I can ask him if he’ll be willing to help.”

  Jim snapped his fingers. “Good. That will work.”

  “Are we going to play today?” one of the other girls asked, bouncing a pink-and-black soccer ball. “I got a new ball.”

  “Uh, sure,” Jim said, unclipping forms from his clipboard while balancing on one foot. One of the mothers had pity on him and helped to pass out the paperwork. “If you will fill these out, make the check payable to the organization, and then I’ll turn all the registrations in at one time to the league.”

  He then turned and blew his whistle. Tess sank onto the bleacher feeling both guilt and relief. Graham and the other parents set about filling out forms. Jim hobbled around and tried to instruct the kids. Good-natured? Check. Determined? Check. Good coach? Uh, not a chance.

  Tess stood. The least she could do was teach him a couple of warm-up drills that would focus the frolicking kidlets and work on their eye-foot coordination.

  “Hey, Jim,” she called, approaching the area where the kids basically wrestled with each other in line. “I’ll give you a little help today.”

  The man literally looked as if he would hug her. “Thank you...”

  “Tess,” she supplied for him, waving the kids over to form a circle around her. “I’ve played soccer for as long as I can remember, so I’ve got a lot of great warm-ups you can use.”

  Tess kicked off her ballet flats, the cool grass heavenly beneath her toes, and split the group into teams, showing them a simple relay drill that would keep them all busy.

  Graham jogged over. “You got roped into bringing Emily. You shouldn’t have to do this.”

  Tess gestured to Jim who had sunk onto the bleachers, gathering the paperwork. “He can’t do this.”

  Graham looked over at Jim. “No, he can’t, so you’ll have to show me these drills and I’ll sign on as the assistant coach. I can’t have the team fall apart. I need Emily out here in the fresh air, running, kicking and participating in something besides Playhouse Disney.”

  Tess looked around at the other girls smiling and laughing as they worked the balls around the cones. She remembered that feeling of working together
as a team, sweat rolling down her back, eyes on the goal at the end of the field. She’d always had good coaches—men and women who’d sacrificed their personal time to help kids learn the sport. Maybe this was an opportunity for her to give back...and spend more time with the new sexy assistant coach.

  Strike that, moron. It’s for the kids.

  “Tell Jim I’ll help out. It’s the least I can do to insure these girls get to play and learn the sport the right way,” Tess said before she could talk herself out of it.

  “Really?” Graham looked over at her, his expression slightly guarded, slightly hopeful. Damn, the way that man looked at her made her shivery.

  “Sure. I’ve never coached, but it can’t be too hard.”

  An hour later, Tess wanted to eat those words. She’d never worked with a group of seven-year-olds, and it was, well, challenging. They squabbled, they dawdled, they tripped, they cried and they had to be soothed with overly kind words. But still, even with all those challenges, Tess enjoyed teaching the fundamentals to the girls. Coaching them felt like the right thing to do, especially when at the end of practice Emily wrapped her arms around Tess’s legs and hugged her.

  “Thank you, Tess. You’re the bestest coach ever.”

  Tess patted the child’s back. “I’m not sure about that, but you’re welcome.”

  Emily looked up, her eyes bright, her chubby little cheeks flushed from the last running drill. “You’ll come on Thursday won’t you?”

  Tess looked up and caught Graham’s eye, and in that moment, Tess knew there was no other place she’d rather be on Thursday afternoon. Except maybe Disney World. She had a thing for the Mouse and the rock-n-roller coaster. Or maybe Tahiti. Those beaches looked heavenly. “Of course. I’m going to help Coach Jim this season.”

  “Yay!” Emily crowed.

  Jim walked over and extended his hand, but since it caused him to lurch sideways, Tess waved it away. “Did I just hear right? Are you going to come back and help out?”

  “I’ll see you Thursday,” she said with a smile. “You need help, and though I’ve never planned on being a soccer coach, the job found me.”

  Jim cracked a huge smile. The man was in his early fifties with thinning hair, a trim physique and a nice smile. “Best news I’ve heard in a while. I signed up to coach because Harv Turner, who runs the league, was short on coaches. That was before I hit an infamous New Orleans pothole on a recent bike ride and learned what it feels like to tear an ACL.” He looked down at his booted foot and grimaced.

  “Ouch,” Tess said, looking down at the cast before glancing back up. “I’ll try my best.”

  After getting the details on practice times and game schedules, Tess and Graham headed toward the parking lot. Emily skipped between them, smiling, rambling on about school and someone named Jillian who got in trouble for chewing gum and bringing in her iPhone. The intimacy of the moment struck Tess and she felt odd being a part of something that was very much “family” in nature, but at the same time, she liked being part of Graham and Emily.

  Scary.

  When they reached her car, Graham took her elbow and turned her to him. “Thank you, Tess.”

  The warmth of his hand on her arm, the way his gaze caressed her made her body warm. Unconsciously she leaned toward him. Or maybe she was conscious of wanting to be closer to him. “Uh, you’re welcome. I wanted to do it for Emily.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Just for Emily, huh?”

  And for you. So I can be close to you if only for an hour.

  But she didn’t say that. The awareness pulsed between them—it always did. Tess wanted Graham. She needed to feel his arms around her again. She craved him with a “what the hell” abandonment the way she craved chocolate when she had PMS. Maybe one kiss?

  And in his eyes she saw he wanted the same thing—his lips, her lips, hot, wet, fulfilling.

  “Tess,” he breathed, lifting his hand, reaching for her jaw.

  “No,” she said, finding her resolve and stepping back. “We can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re in a parking lot...with your daughter.”

  Graham shook his head. “Jesus, I think about you all the time. I’m starting to think you’re a disease.”

  “Just what every woman wants to be called,” Tess murmured, trying to pretend his words didn’t swat at the resolve she’d shoved in front of raw desire seconds ago.

  “You know what I mean,” he said.

  “We said all that needed to be said Sunday.” Way to remind him how much you needed him a few days ago.

  “I’m not giving up,” he said, shifted his gaze over to where Emily balanced on a low bar in the jogging park workout area.

  “It can’t work. Things are too complicated—I can barely tread water right now, barely stay afloat. No way in hell can I fight against the waves for something we can never go back and capture.” She closed her eyes briefly, trying to convince herself as much as Graham. “We’re a missed opportunity. It’s not going to work no matter how much we wish differently. I just—”

  “Why? Because of Monique and Upstart? Because I didn’t call? Or is it because your father thought I would be a good fit to run Ullo?”

  She jerked because his words were a slap of reality.

  “Actually, that’s it exactly. There’s too much between us.” She scooted back, bumping into her car. “It’s best we remain exactly what we are.”

  “Which is?”

  “I can’t even begin to put a name to it.” She unlocked her car, gave Emily a wave and slid into her car. Like a frightened bunny, she scurried away from the want, the hunger—the fact she wanted her words to be a lie.

  But they weren’t.

  Graham didn’t make sense.

  She caught sight of Emily holding his hand as they made their way toward his car, and her heart shattered into small pieces.

  As she pulled out onto the highway, her phone rang.

  Caller ID showed it was her ex-boyfriend Nick.

  Maybe that’s what she needed—a distraction. Nick had always been her favorite distraction. Handsome, wealthy, spoiled and always ready for a good time, he was the perfect someone to occupy her time, to pull her away from all thoughts of Graham. Picking up the phone, she pressed the answer button. “What’s up, Nicky?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE DAY AFTER soccer practice, Graham trudged into the office, cursing the key that always stuck in his office door. He flipped on the lights, glad he was the first one at the office. Somehow the stillness of the warehouse comforted him. In the small quiet of the morning he felt he could accomplish anything.

  He surveyed his domain as he set down his briefcase. Finally all the old files had been removed and the office was in workable shape. Plans for the upcoming season, some drawn by Tess, others by Dave Wegmann, the designer, littered the table, ready for Graham to review and stamp with his seal of approval. He’d had to rely on skills he hadn’t used in years to tweak a few plans, and that very day he had meetings scheduled with two krewe captains looking to rent at least twelve floats. Their themes had been turned in weeks ago, but the work had gone unfinished because Tess had left. Graham had divided them between him and Dave. Though Graham had never been talented creatively, he’d managed to get some ideas on paper for a series of Egyptian-themed floats.

  He needed to hire somebody else in design, but had left the position open for several weeks more because he’d hoped Tess’s anger would grow cold and she’d come back to Ullo and resume the work she’d left behind.

  Damn stubborn woman.

  A sound outside the door had him spinning in his chair.

  Dave peeked inside.

  “Oh, hey. You’re here early.” The man was clasping a folder in hands that looked too large to wield
a drafting pencil skillfully. Dave looked nervous.

  “Have to get here early—we have a lot to do,” Graham said, motioning him inside.

  Dave grunted and came in, setting the folder on the worktable. “Here are the sketches for Caesar’s Muse floats. I think it’s going to work nicely. Maybe have to have the carpenters do some adjustments on the ship. Wasn’t sure if it would come in under the height maximum. We gotta clear the Causeway Bridge.”

  Graham leafed through the drawings and specifications. “Looks good. Are we going to have room for the waves on the back of the float?”

  Dave shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe.”

  Graham lifted his eyebrows. “Dunno?”

  “Look, I wanted to talk to you anyhow. I’ve been thinking about making a change.”

  “A change?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been here a long time, you know?”

  Graham felt something sink in his stomach. He’d wanted to talk to Dave later today about stepping up to fill Tess’s position and then maybe hiring a grad student from Delgado’s art program to train as a designer. He had to do something to fill the gap Tess left, but the words coming out of Dave’s mouth made him long for the Pepto-Bismol he had hidden in his drawer. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving?”

  “Sorry. I have an offer from Toledano Bros. It’s closer to my house and with Tess gone and Frank sick, I feel like it’s a good time to leave.”

  “I’ll give you Tess’s job.”

  “You should have weeks ago,” Dave said, crossing his arms and trying to look angry. The man didn’t seem to have much ire in him, so it was akin to a toddler refusing a vegetable.

  “I had hoped to talk Tess into coming back—that’s the only reason I didn’t ask you to step into her shoes.”

  “Yeah, well.” Dave shrugged and looked away. “I’ve been here forever, but I ain’t good with change and I ain’t good working with them asshole krewe captains, so I really don’t want Tess’s old job. Figure if everyone else is changing things, it’s a good time to make this one for myself. Here’s my letter.”