He didn’t want to find out and gathered up the illustrations sitting on his drawing table to tuck into the cabinet. He pulled out one of the color copies of the first Elec Tric comic book he’d written. He never touched the originals and kept them stored between acid-free mat boards on the top shelf of the cabinet.
Wyatt returned to the kitchen to find Brady dunking half an Oreo into his milk. “That’s the best way to eat a cookie. Right, bro?”
Brady popped the rest of his cookie into his mouth, and milk dribbled down his fingers. Nodding, he wiped his hand on the front of his shirt.
“Brady, I did give you napkins. It would be nice if you used them.”
The kid shrugged and picked up his glass of milk, polishing off the contents in a few gulps. Kayla sighed, moved to his kitchen and tore a few paper towels from the dispenser. She dampened them at the kitchen sink, and then she headed for her son, a maternal expression of disapproval on her pretty face.
Wyatt grinned as the Mysterious Ms. M wiped her son down, including the front of his shirt, which held pizza stains along with cookie crumbs and milk. In typical little-boy fashion, Brady grimaced at the indignity of such motherly ministrations.
“We don’t want any of this getting on Wyatt’s comic book,” she admonished, and Brady sent Wyatt a very disgruntled, put-upon-male look.
The comic book tucked under his arm, Wyatt lifted his shoulders and held out his hands palms up—the universal bro code for nothing I can do about it, buddy. His heart turned over. Such an ordinary scene—a scene he’d witnessed hundreds of times in his large extended family. But with Kayla, it did something to him. A powerful yearning overwhelmed him, once again tying his tongue and knotting his stomach. He headed into the living room and set the comic book on the coffee table. How was he supposed to read to Brady in this state?
Mother and son soon joined him. Kayla sat close enough that he could smell the flowery scent of the shampoo she used, along with her own unique sweet essence. Her body heat melded with his—adding blood rushing to his groin into the mix of internal mayhem. He forced himself to focus on the comic book, the story of how ordinary Rick Hart became the superhero Elec Tric. “A Superhero Is Born,” he read the title page.
Brady started out sitting on Kayla’s lap, but once Wyatt started reading, he slid off and moved to stand between Wyatt’s knees to study each and every illustration. Wyatt had to lean closer to peer around him so he could read. Brady’s total absorption filled Wyatt with pride, and he took on the roles of his characters, changing his voice for each one.
“Nooo! What’s happening to me?” Wyatt pointed to the dialogue bubble, as a second lightning bolt scorched through Rick, lifting him off the ground and suspending him in midair.
“Get him!” The strange, horned woman in purple shouted to her minions.
“Who are you? What do you want with me?” Wyatt’s superhero held out his hands in front of him, and currents of electricity sizzled and arced from his palms. “Rick didn’t know what to make of that,” Wyatt commented.
“That was the day the poor guy saw the demons and the portals leading into their realm for the first time,” he told his rapt audience of two. “And his life was forever changed.” He turned the page to show Brady and Kayla how his poor, confused superhero escaped the demons in this first installment.
Magical. This brief moment in time, with Kayla beside him and Brady wrapped up in the story, planted itself in Wyatt’s memory forever. Once he finished reading, he leaned back. So did Brady, placing his little hands on Wyatt’s knees while propping himself on the edge of the couch. “So? What did you think, Superkid? Did you like my comic book?”
“Yeah.” Brady grinned, his head bobbing. “Can we read another one?”
“Maybe another time. It’s getting late.” Kayla nudged Wyatt with her shoulder. “Great story. Even greater illustrations. Have you tried to get your comic books published?”
His pulse racing from the brief physical contact, Wyatt glanced sideways at her. “I’ve submitted them to several comic book publishers, and I’ve been rejected by every one of them.”
“What about agents? I have an aunt who writes books for middle-grade children, and she never got anywhere either until she had an agent. She says submitting on her own put her books in huge slush piles seen only by interns, and like interns everywhere, they don’t know anything. That’s why they’re interning. To learn.” She rose from the couch. “Do some research and look for agents who represent your favorite comic book writers and illustrators. Start submitting to them.”
“Maybe I will.” Wyatt rose too. She’d gone back to her friendly, open self, and he really wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her good night. Even thinking about acting on the impulse caused an internal whirligig spinning.
“This was fun,” Kayla said, gracing him with a knee-weakening smile. “Do you want me to help clean up before we go?”
“No. I got it. Thanks for dinner.” He stuffed his hands into his front pockets, wanting like hell to suggest they do this again soon, or maybe go out for dinner sometime. But the words got stuck somewhere between his lungs and his lips, and the suckers refused to budge past his pounding heart.
“You’re entirely welcome. Thank you for all your help after the fire.” She put her hands on Brady’s shoulders just as the kid let loose a huge yawn. “Come on, Brady,” she said, untying the Superman cape and handing it to Wyatt. “Time to get ready for bed, and thanks to Wyatt, you’ve already had your bedtime story.”
Her eyes sparkling, she smiled again, rendering him even more incapable of speech. Wyatt followed them to the door. Please stay a while longer. How would she react if he said that out loud?
“See you around, Wyatt,” she said, ushering her son into the hallway.
“See you,” he mumbled, watching the two of them until they disappeared up the stairs. Finally he closed the door and walked to the kitchen to wash the dishes. He replayed the entire evening in his mind. Kayla truly was a mystery, all open and friendly one minute, and reserved the next, finally returning to friendly.
What had that been about, and why had she brought up his brother’s wedding? Had she been flirting, hoping he’d ask her to be his date? His hopes soared, then sank just as quickly. Not likely, since New Year’s Eve was months away, and they hardly knew each other.
One thing was certain. The Mysterious Ms. M confused and fascinated him all at the same time, and his attraction to her grew stronger each minute he spent in her company. She knew comic books. What were the odds he’d meet a woman familiar with his favorite hobby? That had to be a sign.
Unfortunately, the more attractive he found her, the stronger his damned fear response kicked in. Only time and familiarity could ease his shyness. Once he felt more comfortable around her, he’d ask her out. For now, all he could do was try to figure out ways to be with her more.
Hopefully he’d hear from the building owners and insurance company soon, and Haney & Sons would be awarded the bid. How perfect—and perfectly impossible—would that be? Too much to hope for, so he had to have a backup plan or two. What if some other company got the job, and some another electrician got to know her and beat him to the punch? Arrrgh.
He left the dirty dishes in the sink and strode down the hall to his studio. He needed to lose himself in his imaginary world, and he had a great idea for an illustration. The dishes could wait. His inspiration? Not so much.
By Sunday afternoon, Kayla had finally found time to stock up on groceries. Her shopping cart loaded, she pushed it through the lot to her car with Brady riding in the seat. “I’m going to need your help carrying this stuff upstairs, kiddo. We’re going to the playground with Mariah and Rosie in”—she checked her phone for the time—“an hour and a half.”
“OK. Can we get Happy Meals for supper?” he asked.
“Excellent idea.” She hit speed dial.
“Hey,” Mariah answered. “My ex dropped Rosie off a few minutes ago. Are you two going to
be home soon? We’re ready for some fun at the park.”
“We’re on our way from the grocery store right now. Do you want me to get McDonald’s at the drive-through before we head to the park? We can have a picnic.”
“Great idea. Tell you what, I’ll go get the food now, and by the time Rosie and I return, you’ll be here. It won’t take you long to put your groceries away, will it?”
“Nope. We’ll hurry.” Kayla popped her trunk. “I’ll pay you back when we get there.” She told Mariah what to order for her and Brady, and then she tossed her bags into her car. “Come on,” she said, helping her son out of the cart and into his booster seat. She buckled him in. “Mariah and Rosie are going to get our supper, so we have to hurry.”
She pushed the speed limit all the way home and pulled into her spot in the back lot. Kayla helped Brady out of his seat, and the two of them circled around to the trunk of her car. “We should be able to get everything inside in two trips,” she said, handing her son a couple of the lighter plastic bags. She gripped as many of the heavier sacks as she could handle, shut the trunk and headed for the back door.
They’d just made it to the first-floor landing when the front entrance buzzed and opened. The petite brunette from Wyatt’s photo hurried up the steps, a folder in her hand. The fiancée. Guilt surged. What? It’s not like she could help being attracted to Wyatt, and she’d never act on it in any way. After all, she knew firsthand what it felt like to be on the “cheated on” side of that equation. Her gut wrenched, but she did her best to force a smile. “Hi.”
Wyatt’s door opened, and he stepped into the hallway. His eyes lit up at the sight of the other woman, and Kayla’s heart dropped to the region of her belly button. He noticed her and Brady, and color flooded his face. “Hey.” He nodded. “Haley, this is my neighbor Kayla and her son Brady. This is Haley, she’s my—”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Haley said, a warm smile making her even prettier. “Wyatt mentioned you had a fire in your dining room. Good thing his apartment is beneath yours, and he heard the alarm.” The diamond ring on her left hand sparkled as she shifted the folder.
“Nice to meet you too.” Kayla’s smile faltered a bit. “Yes, we were lucky.” She glanced at the folder Haley carried. No doubt wedding stuff to go over. “Congratulations on your upcoming wedding.”
“Thanks.” Haley’s radiant expression said it all. They were in love.
“Well,” she muttered, lifting her sacks of groceries, “we’d better get going. I have another load in the car.”
“Do you need help?” Wyatt asked, taking a step toward her.
“No, no. We can manage, and you have company. Thanks for offering, though.” Kayla hurried up the stairs without another glance, Brady trailing her. She should be happy for Wyatt and Haley, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t rise above the unsettling feeling that she very much wanted to stick her hand into someone else’s cookie jar. Oh, right. Hence the guilt. Avoid him.
Once she and Brady were in her apartment, she put away the things that needed to be in the fridge and freezer and left the other stuff on the counter. “Brady, stay here. I’m going to get the rest of the groceries.”
“OK.” He wandered into the living room, grabbed a few toys and climbed onto the couch.
Kayla hurried down the stairs and came face-to-face with Wyatt. Her heart bounced back up to its rightful spot and tapped against her ribs. She couldn’t meet his gaze.
“I’d like to help with your groceries,” he said. “And I made something for you and Brady.”
“You did?” She frowned. “What?” And why was he being so sweet?
“Groceries first.”
“Where’s Haley?” She started toward the back door, and Wyatt reached around to open it for her. More heat flooded her face.
“She only stopped by to give me information about where to buy my suit for the wedding.”
“No tuxes?” How could a man smell so good, like the soap he used mixed with his own masculine yumminess? Should she feel guilty about stealing a whiff or two? Because she did.
“Nope. Haley’s practical, and she figured we’d all get more use out of a nice suit.”
“Oh.” By the time they reached her car, her insides were a mess of remorse and desire for the man who was clearly off-limits. Every minute spent with him, she found him more attractive.
Kayla handed Wyatt half of the remaining bags of groceries and took the other half herself, and they carried them to her apartment. Her neighbor was so thoughtful. Her husband had never been the considerate type. In fact, he’d been mostly sullen and resentful toward her. She had to blink away the sting in her eyes as she opened her apartment door.
“Wyatt!” Brady hopped off the couch and ran across the living room.
“Whoa, slow down, Superkid,” he said with a broad smile as Brady hugged his legs. “Let me put these bags down, and—”
“Hello,” Mariah called, poking her head into the apartment. She and Rosie came in, holding a large tote bag and a cardboard tray of beverages. The scent of McDonald’s wafted into the apartment. “Oh, hey, Wyatt. Are you coming to the park with us?”
“Yeah.” Brady let go of his knees and started bouncing. “Come to the park with me and Rosie.”
“Sure,” Wyatt said. “Sounds like fun.”
“I already bought burgers and fries, and we have plenty to share. Have you eaten?”
“I have, but thanks.”
Kayla set her bags down on the kitchen counter and rolled her eyes. Great. More time with Mr. Tall-and-Tempting. “Let me just put away the perishables. The rest can wait until later,” she called.
Wyatt walked into the kitchen and placed his bags next to hers. “Is it all right with you if I join you at the park?”
“Of course.” Not. His arm brushed hers, causing a pleasurable tingle of sexual awareness.
He searched through her groceries, pulling out the items that needed to go in the fridge. “Oreos,” he said with a deep chuckle, his tall frame leaning around her to place the package in the to-put-away-later pile. “My favorite.”
Yikes. The tingle of awareness morphed into full-fledged ignition, and heat spiraled through her. Oh, man, her kitchen was tiny, and Wyatt filled the space with all his stupid masculine gorgeousness. Kayla’s breathing went shallow, and her pulse skyrocketed. This was bad; this was very bad.
She leaned over and shoved a load of fresh vegetables into the crisper drawer, bumping right into him—groin level—as she backed out to straighten. He sucked in an audible breath, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “BAM,” she muttered under her breath.
“Bam?” He leaned around her and set the milk on a shelf.
“Yep. Bam. We’re done.” Was he doing this on purpose? Crowding her space, brushing against her . . . No. He was just being helpful. The man was way too shy for that kind of subtle seduction. Wasn’t he? Besides, he was engaged. She glanced at her pile of stuff to make sure only nonperishables remained. “Too bad Haley couldn’t join us. She seems really nice.” There. Cold water dumped over hot body.
“She is nice, but—”
“Come on, Mommy.” Brady raced around the corner. “Let’s go.”
Kayla snuck a peek at Wyatt. His brow was creased, and a look of confusion clouded his sexy brown eyes. “OK. Let’s boogie,” she said.
Rosie and Brady raced ahead once they reached the sidewalk, and Wyatt joined the two children, finally giving Kayla the chance to breathe.
“He’s into you,” Mariah whispered.
“No. He’s not. He’s engaged. I met his fiancée in the hallway about thirty minutes ago.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “The wedding is on New Year’s Eve.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m in trouble, Mariah.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I’m really attracted to him, and . . . Oh, God. He’s so sweet, creative and fun to be around. He write
s and illustrates comic books. Did you know that?”
Mariah blinked at her. “No, I didn’t.”
“He lost his parents when he was a kid, and he let Brady play with a Superman cape his mom made for him when he was little, and he has this really cool pirate chest full of toys, and he smells so good.” She came up for air. “He’s tall and hot and I—”
“You’re in trouble, all right.” Mariah laughed. “He’s not married yet. All’s fair in love and war.”
“No. It really isn’t.” Never in a million years would she inflict that kind of hurt on another woman, especially after having been on the receiving end of that kind of humiliation herself. “There’s nothing fair about war, and there’s nothing fair about making a play for another woman’s man.”
Kayla raised her hand to shield her eyes from the late-afternoon sun and watched Wyatt. He’d lifted Brady over his head, so her son could fly through the air like Superman. Then he set him down and did the same for Rosie, who squealed with delight. “Why on earth did you invite him to the park with us?” she muttered.
“He was in your apartment with you. I figured you’d already included him. How was I supposed to know he was the kind of man who could make you speak in run-on sentences?” Mariah arched a brow. “If he’s happily engaged, why did he accept?”
“Good question.” Why had he helped her with her groceries right after his fiancée left, and hadn’t he said he’d made something for her and Brady? Confusion stirred her thoughts as she replayed the time she’d spent with Wyatt. Had she misjudged him? He seemed really sweet and shy, but maybe he was a total player. Not that it mattered either way. She was not interested in dating. Period.
Brady’s laughter drew her attention again. Obviously it was her son’s turn to fly. Perhaps she’d misread all the signals where Wyatt was concerned. After all, he wrote comic books and played with plastic action figures. Could be he was just a big kid himself and liked an excuse to play at the park. She had noticed he didn’t suffer any shyness with Brady, which was probably a nice break for the guy. The fact that he’d agreed to join them might not have anything to do with her. Oh, Lord. Was that creepy?
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