Yours, Mine and Ours (Second Chances)

by Daley, Margaret

  "It's not going to work, Tess."

  "What?" Her voice squeaked.

  "The deal was for you and me to go out to dinner. No children were mentioned. Remember a sit down place where you have to wait for your food."

  "Okay. Then next Saturday it is." The cornered feeling intensified. "Now I do think it's time for us to go." She sidestepped around Zachariah and hurried toward what she hoped was Lance's bedroom.

  She stopped in the doorway and watched Lance and Wesley together, their heads bent over an elaborate piece made of Legos. Lance was showing Wesley something he had built, pointing out every detail of the castle. Tess was impressed. Zachariah's son had a good sense of balance.

  "Hi, Mom," Wesley said when he looked up and saw her. "See what Lance made. It took him a whole week." Her son pointed to the castle, awe on his expression.

  "It's beautiful."

  "He combined several of his big sets to make it. I think I'm going to do that, too." Wesley leaped to his feet eager to get started. "You can come over when I get through," he said to Lance as he walked toward her.

  Tess was happy that her son had finally invited someone over to the house, but why did it have to be Lance who was connected to Zachariah? She didn't want to be around him anymore than was necessary.

  "Sure." Lance put a piece of Lego on top of the wall. "And don't forget about soccer practice tomorrow. Our team is called the Crystal City Cowboys. We could use another player since Tim broke his arm."

  "Broke his arm? Playing soccer?" Tess asked, suddenly not sure of the wisdom in wanting Wesley to play the sport. Maybe he could join a chess team.

  "No, Tim fell out of a tree." Zachariah answered, coming up behind her. "I hope you can come to practice, Wesley."

  "I don't know," her son said, indecision in his eyes, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. "I might be busy tomorrow evening."

  Zachariah laid his hand on Wesley's shoulder. "Have your mother bring you out to watch us practice."

  Wesley looked up at Zachariah. "Maybe."

  "I'll look for you both tomorrow," Zachariah said as Tess and Wesley left the house.

  She would like to shout back at him, "No way," but this would be her son's decision. If he wanted to go and watch, she would go with him even though she didn't like feeling as if she were walking over hot coals.

  ***

  It was the third week in September and Crystal City was having a heat wave, Tess thought as she watched Zachariah out on the soccer field in a T-shirt and a pair of shorts that exposed way too much skin for her peace of mind. He should be clearly stamped with "If Partaken Too Long, Dangerous to a Woman's Libido."

  She dragged her gaze away from the man and followed her son's progress along the sideline. For the first thirty minutes of the practice he had sat next to her on the bleachers, but now he was up and pacing, his attention glued to the boys on the playing field. Her heart ached at the hesitation and indecision she saw in Wesley's eyes. Ever since Brad had walked out on the family, her second son hadn't been able to make a decision and usually was too afraid to express an opinion. She had tried to get him to open up and tell her what was going on inside his mind, but he wouldn't. He would retreat further within himself but never far physically from her.

  Zachariah jogged over to Wesley. "Want to join us in some drills?"

  Her son glanced back at her, a touch of fear in his expression. Tess started to get up when he swung back around to Zachariah and said, "I don't know."

  "I sure could use your help."

  Staring at the ground, Wesley scuffed his right tennis shoe into the dirt over and over, making a hole.

  "I need an assistant." Zachariah placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "Wesley, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, but I think you would be great for the team."

  Her son looked up at Zachariah, amazement on Wesley's face. "Really? You do?"

  He nodded. "Will you help me? We have an odd number of players and we need to pair off. I need someone to work with Lance on this drill. Otherwise he won't have anyone to practice with."

  "Okay," her son said after a slight hesitation.

  While Wesley walked beside Zachariah out onto the soccer field, Tess tried to contain the expanding pressure in her chest before she fainted from lack of air. Another thread bound her to the man. He was good with Wesley and seemed to know just what to say to get results. She didn't want to feel grateful to him; she didn't want to feel anything toward him.

  For the next thirty minutes Tess focused her total attention on her son running with the ball, passing it, slowly becoming a part of the team. For thirty minutes she succeeded in not looking at Zachariah and was quite proud of herself until a boy fell and hurt himself. The child's cries drew her to the scene.

  Kneeling by the boy, Zachariah checked out the kid's cut on his knee and spoke soothingly to him the whole time. The injured team member sniffed and slowly began to listen to what Zachariah was saying. Tess couldn't hear, but whatever it was worked. The child grinned, shook his head and raced over to his partner in the drill, forgetting his cut. Zachariah had performed magic as if he had waved a wand over the boy.

  For a brief moment Tess wished Zachariah could take her hurt away with some attention and a few soothing words. But the pain of rejection wouldn't heal that easily. Nor did she want to forget what happened to her. Brad's lesson had been a hard one, but she had learned it well. The only person she could depend on was herself.

  "Mom," Wesley said, running up to her. "Did you see me kick the ball?"

  "Yes." Tess rose, rolling her shoulders to work the stiffness from them. "I see you haven't forgotten anything from last year."

  "Yeah." Her son's voice sounded amazed that he had remembered so much from playing soccer the year before.

  "Well, what do you think, Wesley? Do you want to join us?" Zachariah asked, walking up behind the boy.

  The uncertainty flittered across her son's features again, and Tess felt like crying. For every step forward there were two steps backward. "If you want, we can come out and watch again tomorrow," she suggested.

  "You can always do that, Wesley, but Lance and I would like to come by and pick you up for practice. How about it?"

  While her son nodded, Tess felt shut out, unwanted. She started to make a comment about male bonding when Zachariah clapped Wesley on the back and said, "Great. I think you'll make a good forward."

  At that moment Lance came up to Wesley and wanted him to meet some of the team members so before Tess realized it she was alone with Zachariah and fuming. "Don't build him up with false hopes," she said, suddenly wanting to protect Wesley from further hurt that had nothing to do with playing soccer and everything to do with Zachariah becoming too important in her son's life. That could set up her son to be hurt even more when Zachariah lost interest in Wesley--her.

  Zachariah sighed. "I would never do that, Tess."

  "But he hasn't played much. He quit after Brad left."

  "What happened?"

  "Wesley didn't want to go to practice. No matter what I did he wouldn't go. He would lie on his bed curled into a ball complaining that his stomach was hurting." Remembering produced a constriction about her chest.

  "I don't mean with Wesley, Tess. What happened with Brad?"

  She drew herself up, tense. "Nothing."

  She began to step around him when his hand shot out and clasped her arm. "You can't run forever."

  "I'm not running. I don't know where you get your ideas. You make me sound like I'm a fugitive."

  "I may be a cop, but I do know where to draw the line." The curve of his mouth cut into a frown.

  "Do you? I feel like you're interrogating me."

  "Because I want to get a little personal?" A nerve twitched in the hard plane of his jaw. "What did that man do to you to make you so scared to get close to anyone?"

  Her anger matched his. "None of your business." The words came out between clenched teeth. "I think it's time we go."

 
; "Do you always leave when things get a little heated?"

  If that were the case, she would have left an hour ago, she thought, remembering the hot feeling that suffused her body while she had watched the practice, or rather watched Zachariah. "Tomorrow is a work day. I have two other children—" she paused, inhaled in a deep breath and said, "I don't owe you an explanation."

  "No." He sighed. "What time do you want me to pick you up Saturday night?"

  She blinked at the sudden change in the conversation. She had tried to put Saturday night from her mind. A date--an evening spent with just him. Dread mounted in her, especially after her attraction to Zachariah earlier. "Seven."

  "Do I dress up or go casual?"

  How about in a suit of armor with your body covered from head to toe. "Casual."

  "Where are we going?"

  I don't know. Definitely someplace crowded and noisy. "You'll find out Saturday night."

  "Lady, you do love your secrets."

  "I thought men liked women with a little mystery." She regretted the retort the minute she said it. She had a way of sticking both feet into her mouth without a backward glance.

  His gray eyes widened, then his grin did. "Is that your game?"

  "I don't play games."

  "That's what I thought, too, until you said that." His eyes brightened with his smile.

  "Sometimes I speak before I think."

  "Not often enough. I still know little about you, Tess, but hopefully Saturday night will change that."

  No way! "Don't count on it. We're just going to dinner. Nothing else."

  "But we do have to talk over dinner."

  Not if I can help it. "It's not polite to talk with food in your mouth."

  "And you plan on having food in your mouth the whole time?"

  If it's possible. "I do like to eat."

  "Ah, something personal. I think I'm making headway," Zachariah said, amusement deep in his voice.

  Right into a brick wall. Tess strengthened her resolve to keep this man at arm's length. She looked around him and motioned to Wesley to come to her. "It's getting late and this is a school night."

  "We're all going to Braum's for some ice cream. Why don't you two join us?"

  Her son came to a screeching stop next to her. His expression perked up when he heard the words ice cream. Her children had a thing about sweets, inherited honestly from her, and ice cream was at the top of their list--and hers.

  She started to make her excuse not to go but realized she was placing her personal feelings ahead of her son. She would just make it a point to keep the thirteen boys on the team between her and Zachariah at Braum's. Surely she could manage that small feat.

  Fifteen minutes later Tess knew the folly in her thinking. She had forgotten to factor in Zachariah's determination. Now she was sitting at a table in a corner with the man across from her. She didn't even have her son as a buffer. Somehow Zachariah had arranged for Wesley to sit at a table with several other boys including his son.

  Officer Smith is a whirlwind. Tess felt as if he had swept into her life and mixed everything up until she couldn't tell what reality was. It was hard to resist his powerful aura. It was a challenge she was just as determined to win as he was.

  "Never thought I would want to trade places with an ice cream cone," Zachariah said as he watched her lick hers.

  She blushed. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Officer Smith. You're supposed to set an example for us."

  An innocent expression wiped the sensuality from his features. "I was thinking about the heat. What were thinking about?"

  Heat seared her cheeks. "You know lately the weather has been beastly." This was a neutral topic, she thought and continued, "Do you think we'll get rain soon? It's been almost four weeks since the last one."

  "I'm not sure the rain would cool things off."

  His gaze drilled into her with a relentlessness that stole her breath. She didn't need a neon sign to tell her the man wasn't thinking about the weather.

  "And think of the humidity that accompanies rain. It cloaks you like wet silk. Every time you step outside you become drenched. I can't seem to shed enough clothes to get comfortable."

  Okay, so the weather isn't neutral enough. She needed to move to another topic. "Violence on TV is awful. I spend half my time policing the programs my children watch. Do you have that trouble?"

  Laughter danced in his eyes. "I find sex on TV even worse than the violence. The other night I came in from putting Emily down and found Lance watching a movie. The two people were in bed, kissing and fooling around. After turning off the set, I spent fifteen minutes explaining the facts of life to my first grader."

  Moving right along. "The national debt is atrocious. I have to balance my checkbook. Why can't Congress balance its checkbook?"

  Zachariah covered her hand on the table with his. "I don't want to talk about the weather, television or the national debt. At this moment I don't care about those topics. The only one that interests me is you."

  She was afraid of that. Her eyelids slid close. She focused on the warmth of his fingers over hers and for a few seconds relished the feeling. When she finally looked at him, she drew her hand back, placing it in her lap. "Why?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" One of his brows arched. "I want to be your friend, possibly more. I had a good marriage with Laurie. I like being in a relationship with a woman."

  Every muscle in Tess's body stiffened at the words, marriage and relationship. She swiveled her chair around and bolted to her feet. "Good night, Officer Smith. I'll see you Saturday night." For the shortest date on record.

  With her son in tow, she couldn't get out of Braum's fast enough. She hurried to her car, aware that Zachariah was watching her through the plate glass window. She fumbled with the keys, dropped them, and had to pick them up. Once inside her car she took deep breaths after deep breaths, but her heart wouldn't stop pounding.

  She didn't want a relationship and she certainly wouldn't marry again. And she would make that crystal clear Saturday night if it were the last thing she did.

  Chapter Five

  Tess opened the front door to find Zachariah standing there, wearing his jogging shorts and a tank top, holding a plastic measuring cup in his hand. "Aren't you a little early for our date? It's Friday. And I realize I said casual, but…" She ran her gaze down his length. Her attention fastened onto his long powerful runner legs revealed in the shorts and could go no further until she finally managed to pry her look away from his body.

  He held up the cup where she could see it and grinned.

  "I'd say you're a little too casual," Tess continued, trying to ignore the man's smile. "I'd promised you we weren't going to go to McDonald's."

  "I need to borrow a cup of sugar."

  "You jogged four blocks for a cup of sugar? The supermarket's only two blocks from your house."

  "I need the exercise."

  Tess promised herself she wouldn't look down at his perfect built, but as before her eyes seemed to have a will of their own as they trekked southward, taking in his muscle bound chest, his flat stomach, those runner's legs again. "Bull."

  "Okay, I'll tell you the truth if you promise not to slam the door in my face and run away."

  She sucked in a breath and held it, trapping his scent that teased her senses.

  "I wanted to see you."

  Her lungs burned, and she released her pent up breath. Her grip on the doorframe strengthened.

  "I've missed you when I've come to pick up Wesley for practice."

  She had deliberately been busy when Zachariah had come to the house to get her son. She had decided after the Braum's episode that was the only way to deal with the man. A room full of people didn't make her safe from his influence. "Just what are you gonna fix with the sugar?" Tess asked, not intending to get into a discussion that was personal.

  "Fudge."

  Her mouth watered at the thought of delicious chocolate loaded with calories and nuts. She knew th
e look on her face expressed her love for anything chocolate.

  "You could help me make the fudge. I'd share it with you afterward. How about it?"

  A picture of him feeding her a piece slipped unbidden into her thoughts like a thief into her house. Her mind swirled with the image.

  He stepped closer. "Do you want to share, Tess?"

  Through the haze that captured her mind, she heard the word share, a husky appeal that tilted the world even more for her. She shook her head, more to dislodge the vision of him sharing his fudge with her then to answer his question.