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

by Liz Talley

  His presence drew her.

  And so, ignoring his objections, she spent the next forty-five minutes carrying rock.

  * * *

  GRANT WAS PULLING weeds from a flowered border along the sidewalks between the bungalows later that week when he heard someone behind him. Darin was due out of therapy soon and they were going to put in an hour on the garden before heading home to an increasingly rare night of pizza, beer and college basketball.

  They both had twenty bucks in a pool of tiered picks, a fantasy game set up by a buddy of Darin’s from college.

  A buddy who still included them in sports pools but rarely came around anymore.

  Maddie stood there, holding the hand of the cutest little kid he’d ever seen.

  “Why you pullin’ flowers, Mister?” All curly hair, chubby cheeks and questions, the child had a babyish lisp that made her a little hard to understand.

  “I’m not pulling flowers,” he told the toddler with a nod and a grin at Maddie—the woman Lynn had introduced them to that first day. The woman who shared her morning therapy sessions with Darin.

  The woman who’d been abused but was now a full-time paid employee of the Stand.

  Lynn hadn’t mentioned that the woman had a daughter.

  But then Lynn hadn’t talked about any of the Stand’s residents on a personal basis. Or former residents, either. Other than to mention that Maddie was a full-time employee.

  “See these flowers—” with one finger, Grant touched a fragile yet velvety yellow petal “—they’re colorful. They were planted on purpose to be here because they’re so pretty to look at.”

  Letting go of Maddie’s hand, the little girl bent at the knees to put her face within six inches of the flower. As though she was studying it.

  “Preetty,” she said, clearly mimicking something she’d heard before.

  “These things—” he picked up a couple of stalks from the pile he’d been amassing on a small tarp at the edge of the sidewalk “—are not pretty,” he said. “See how it’s kind of prickly on the edges? It wasn’t planted here. Its seeds blew in the wind and if we let it stay it will use up all of the food and the water that the pretty flowers need to grow and then there would only be these ugly things and no pretty flowers.”

  He was no more used to children than he was to battered women. But she was such a serious, cute little thing.

  And then she giggled and looked up at Maddie. “Mister said the pretty flowers eat food.” She sprayed spit as she said the words, laughing.

  “They do eat food,” Maddie said, her words a bit forced, as if she’d had to work hard to make them come out.

  He wondered again if Maddie might have suffered some kind of brain injury. It was discomfiting, being around so many women who were there because they’d been injured, and yet not knowing, or being in a position to ask, what specific damage had been done to any of them.

  Maddie seemed to have come off worse than most.

  And she had a daughter? That was rough.

  “Do pretty flowers eat macaroni?” the little girl said with another chuckle as she continued to squat next to him.

  “No, it’s not like food we eat,” Maddie explained, her words slow, but seemingly just right for the child who looked so trustingly to her for guidance. As a child would a mother. The toddler wouldn’t understand yet that her mother struggled more than normal. “It’s called nutrients and I don’t know all what’s in it but ground comes with nutrients.”

  The little girl looked back at him. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the hairy stalk he still held.

  “This is called a weed.” He could give the child the scientific name. Could lecture her about wildflowers, those which weren’t cultivated, that most gardeners considered weeds because they came uninvited and took over. He could also give her many instances when these so-called weeds were used to create exquisite beauty.

  “Weed bad, hurt pretty flower,” the little girl said.

  “That’s right,” Grant told her, glad he’d kept his lecture to himself. “What’s your name?”

  “Kara.”

  Her short legs, dressed in jeans with a design on the pockets that matched the pink design on her short-sleeved white top and the pink in her little white tennis shoes, didn’t seem to tire from her position.

  And her mother wasn’t calling her away from bothering him.

  Or acting bothered by him, either.

  “How old are you, Kara?”

  “Three.”

  She was rocking back and forth, still squatting, and then just as suddenly as she’d been there, she was standing, putting her hand back in Maddie’s.

  “Bye, Mister, see you soon I love you.”

  The words came out so fast, and with babyish garble, and he wasn’t sure he’d heard them right. And then she was gone.

  It took Grant a couple of seconds to realize that he was pulling weeds with a grin on his face.

  * * *

  “LYNN, CAN I talk to you for a minute?” Maddie’s words were enunciated as slowly as always, her pretty face marred with anxiety, about half an hour before her therapy session Friday morning.

  “Of course. Close the door,” she told the woman who looked great in her leggings and lightweight T-shirt. Maddie’s short blond hair was curled this morning, and sprayed. She was wearing makeup.

  Not a first, but not usual, either. Makeup on Maddie usually meant she’d been spending time at a bungalow that housed some of their younger residents. One in particular, Katrina, had been with them for several months and was good with Maddie. She also had dreams of being a cosmetologist.

  “I’m prettier with makeup,” Maddie said, sitting down on the edge of a chair across from Lynn’s desk. Maddie’s hands were clasped tightly in her lap. Her knees bobbed up and down.

  “You’re pretty either way,” Lynn told her. “Pretty comes from the inside out.”

  The cliché rolled off her tongue with very little thought—or emotion, either, for that matter. Because she was starting to take the job for granted?

  God, she hoped not.

  “If I want boys to notice me, I have to take care of myself.”

  Lynn leaned forward. “Who told you that?”

  “I’d rather not say.” Maddie seemed irritated by the question, not agitated. A difference Lynn had learned to ascertain.

  “Have you talked to Sara?”

  Maddie was fond of her counselor, but seemed to have bonded more with Lynn. Lynn and Sara had discussed the situation with Lila, who guessed that Maddie probably felt closer to Lynn because of Kara, and wasn’t concerned.

  It didn’t really matter which of them helped Maddie as long as they helped her.

  “No.”

  “Okay, what’s up?”

  “I like someone.” There was no glee in the words. No excitement. Only... Yes, there it was now, agitation.

  “Who?”

  “I don’t want to say.”

  There was a time to accept that answer, and a time when she couldn’t.

  “I can’t help you unless I know who we’re talking about.”

  “I just... Do you think it’s wrong for me to like someone?”

  “Absolutely not. But it’s always good to get the opinion of a trusted source before you pursue a relationship.”

  Most particularly in Maddie’s case. She couldn’t read people, was an easy target and...

  Lynn’s senses were on full alert. As far as she knew, Maddie hadn’t left the grounds in over a month. But she wasn’t aware of the outside workings at the Stand a lot of the days when she was in her office with patients. Or tending to new arrivals.

  “I just like him,” Maddie said now, looking down. “And he might like me.” The words were nearly a whisper, a
imed at Maddie’s rib cage.

  “Who is he, Maddie?” Lynn wasn’t joking around. Period.

  “Darin.”

  The response sent Lynn backward in her chair with a whoosh. Of course. She should have seen it. Expected it. Known. Maddie and Darin, alike in some ways, pushing themselves through the rigors of therapy together...

  They’d been at the park together, with Kara.

  But...

  “You haven’t ever liked anyone but Alan,” she said out loud.

  “I know.”

  They all should have seen this coming, but Lynn hadn’t. And as far as she knew, Sara hadn’t, either. Just the opposite, in fact. Maddie was deathly afraid of men. She was the last resident they’d have thought would be in danger of some kind of transference or neediness with the Bishop men on campus.

  To the contrary, they’d hoped an association with someone as harmless as Darin would help ease Maddie back into an ability to be more comfortable around men.

  “Maybe Darin just seems like a good Alan to you. Someone who will take care of you.”

  The man had that air about him. Like he’d right wrongs, fix that which was broken. In spite of his injury.

  Maddie shook her head. “He...looks at me. And I get all rubbery inside.”

  Oh, boy.

  “Has he ever touched you, Maddie?” She kept her voice soft, calm.

  “No! Darin, he wouldn’t hurt anything. Except a spider. He stepped on it.”

  Apparently, there’d been a spider during therapy....

  “Is it wrong for me to like him, Lynn?”

  “No! Of course not.” It wasn’t. In theory. But, oh, boy. Lynn’s insides were churning now, too.

  And not in a rubbery way.

  CHAPTER NINE

  GRANT GAVE LUKE and Craig the whole weekend off. He was going to need them to work overtime the following week, just long enough to set the big boulders in the rock fountain and help with the trenching and plumbing. He’d already purchased treated cedar and metal joists for the benches that he and Darin were going to build on Sunday. And Saturday, he was going to get caught up with all of the regular mowing, irrigation checks, trimming and spraying for weeds so that he could devote the beginning of the next week, after his Bishop Landscaping work, completely to the Garden of Renewal.

  The women at The Lemonade Stand needed their garden. He didn’t want to keep them waiting any longer.

  Lynn, dressed in scrubs, was walking from the main building, where she had her office and saw her patients, toward the cluster of bungalows at the back of the property. He’d mowed her yard. At least twice since he’d been there.

  He just didn’t know which one it was.

  But he knew she had a cute ass. A distraction on this Saturday morning. He watched until it was out of sight.

  “Hey, Mister...” The voice was close.

  He’d been alone. Had just mowed around a small pond in one of the landscaped atriums between buildings, and had noticed that the intake line had not been flowing smoothly. He’d taken the metal cover off the grass-covered hole in the ground that housed the pond’s motorized equipment.

  “Kara, no!” He shouted the words as he lunged for the little girl, scooping her up just before she ran right into that hole in her eagerness to get to him.

  Maddie...and Darin?...who obviously had no idea the cover was off the access hole, were walking not far behind, watching Kara, but Darin’s head was bent toward something Maddie was saying.

  Kara’s shriek was cut off as her body slammed into his chest, probably knocking the air half out of her. And then little arms slapped him on both sides of his neck as the tiny body clung to him. Kara shook and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the child was sobbing. The arms that had clutched him were pushing against him.

  He’d scared the crap out of her.

  “It’s all right,” he said, the words coming from somewhere he didn’t know existed within him, trying not to drop the squirming little body, but not wanting to hurt her, either. “It’s all right. I didn’t want you to fall in the hole in the ground. See?” Turning, he tilted so that her gaze was facing the hole. “It’s supposed to be covered, but it wasn’t because there was a boo-boo on that machine down there and I had to fix it.”

  A boo-boo? Where in the hell had he come up with that?

  “Bwoken.” Kara hiccupped. And just as quickly as her emotional storm had started, it was over. Tears hung on her lashes. Her breathing still hitched. But she was looking at him with questions in those big hazel eyes, not fear. Her red-gold curls bobbed as she threw her body downward, trying to get a closer look at the hole—he presumed.

  Thankfully, he had a secure enough hold on her.

  “What happened, Grant?” Darin came running over with Maddie, her legs seeming to stumble over themselves a bit, not far behind him. And Grant wanted to ask his brother what he was doing with Maddie and her little girl again.

  “Bwoken,” Kara repeated, sounding important now as she showed the new arrivals what she’d discovered.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bishop.” Maddie reached for the little girl, who went to her willingly. Putting Kara down, Maddie took the child’s hand. “This is why you don’t run ahead,” she said. “Because we don’t know what’s in the grass.”

  True. Though not quite what he’d have said. All kids should be able to run through the grass barefoot. Shouldn’t they?

  “Maddie and I just finished therapy and she picked up Kara from the day care and I was walking them partway home,” Darin explained, almost no child in his voice at all. “It’s my fault, Grant. I distracted Maddie and put the little girl at risk and I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Grant saw a bad evening coming on. “If anyone’s at fault it’s me,” he said. “I left the cover off and turned my back. You know it’s a rule never to do that.”

  He’d turned to watch a beautiful woman who turned him on. Watched her until she’d completely disappeared from view.

  “It was an accident, Darin,” he said.

  “Are you hungry, Kara?” Maddie, looking college-campus cute in black leggings and a short T-shirt, her slim body almost perfectly proportioned, hadn’t taken her gaze from the little girl since she took her out of Grant’s arms. Her weight shifted from foot to foot and she was biting on her lower lip.

  Grant had no idea what she was thinking. Or feeling.

  But like a good mother, she was focused on her child.

  “Yes!” Kara chortled with childish glee.

  “We have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch today,” Maddie said, her expression so serious it almost hurt to watch her. Because she had to concentrate so hard to complete the simple mothering tasks?

  Was that why Maddie lived at The Lemonade Stand? So the ladies there could help her watch Kara? Help raise Kara?

  “It’s not your fault, Maddie.” Darin’s voice came out soft and slow. “You take excellent care of her, you know.” Innocence shone through every word. An inability to adjust his words to fit adult social mores, but an adult awareness of his surroundings.

  Or something like that. “He’s right,” Grant said, taking his cue from Darin as he saw the look of guilt cross over his brother’s face. “The only big deal here is that I didn’t follow safety protocol when I turned my back on the opened hole. Kara should be allowed to run in the grass and there’s no way either of you could have known that the hole was uncovered.”

  “Yeah, Maddie, Grant’s right. You couldn’t have known.”

  Still watching Kara, Maddie nodded. “We have to go,” she said. “Come on, Kara.”

  “Bye, Mister, and Dawin, see you soon I love you....” The little girl pulled Maddie toward the bungalows.

  Maddie glanced up then. Once. At Darin. “Bye,” she sai
d.

  But never cracked a smile.

  “I think she’s mad at me.” Darin’s gaze followed the other woman.

  Grant, kissing extra work on his lunch hour goodbye as he realized he was going to have to accompany his brother to the cafeteria where he’d expected Darin to be already, bent to the grate and said, “She’s not mad at you, bro. She’s scared. Women get scared in times of crisis. You taught me that.”

  The time he’d crashed his motorcycle out in front of their house, barely scratching either it or himself, and Shelley had come running out of the house, screaming, embarrassing the heck out of him in front of his friends.

  “I guess,” Darin said.

  And Grant was happy to let the entire incident pass.

  * * *

  ALL THROUGH LUNCH Lynn heard about the incident with Grant and Kara. Her three-year-old, apparently, was quite taken with “Mister,” pronounced with rs that sounded like ws.

  Maddie was too sick to eat, and it took Lynn a good twenty minutes to get the other woman to agree to stay alone with Kara while she napped and Lynn went back to the clinic. She had only a couple of afternoon appointments, but needed to get her charting done.

  “What if I screw up again, Lynn?” the woman asked, her eyes wide and filled with pain. She’d chewed her lip so much in the past hour Lynn was surprised it wasn’t bleeding. “What if she gets hurt? I’d rather die than that.”

  “So would I.” Lynn turned from the sink where she’d been rinsing her glass and the knife she’d used to make sandwiches. “I also trust you with Kara. And we do our very, very best to see that she’s safe and healthy and happy.”

  Sitting at the table, watching Kara finish her last bit of goo-smeared bread on her paper plate, Maddie gnawed at her lip, her knees bobbing up and down.

  “Watch this!” Kara grabbed a handful of bread and put her fist up to her mouth.

  “Uh-uh, little girl,” Maddie said, reaching out to pull Kara’s hand down. “You know we don’t put too much in our mouths at once or we’ll choke,” she said. She gently pried Kara’s fingers apart to take away half of the bread.

  “You see,” Lynn said softly, hanging the towel she’d just used to dry her hands. “You take very good care of her, Maddie. Accidents happen. To moms and dads and babysitters. They wouldn’t let you help in the day care if anyone thought the kids weren’t safe with you.”