by Judy Duarte
“Of course,” Diana said, trying to regroup. “We’re not having anything fancy, Zack. Just a casserole. But you’re welcome to join us.”
“Reconnecting that hose was no big deal,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything, let alone another meal.”
“We don’t mind at all,” Becky said. “It gets pretty boring with just the three of us sitting at the table.”
Before Diana could think of a response, Megan eased in front of Becky. She had on a snug pair of hip-hugging jeans and a skimpy, lime-green blouse that revealed a silver ring in her belly button that hadn’t been there before. At least, Diana hadn’t noticed it.
“Is that a new outfit?” she asked the teen.
“Yeah. I got it for my birthday.” She glanced down at her pants, then looked up and grinned. “Cool, huh?”
“Wow,” Becky said. “You’ve got a belly button ring. I never saw that before.”
Megan shrugged. “I got it pierced a while back. All my friends have them.”
Diana knew teenagers did that sort of thing, but Megan’s parents were pretty conservative. And notoriously strict. It seemed an odd thing for them to agree to, even though a lot of other parents wouldn’t mind.
Had they agreed?
“Well,” Megan said, nodding toward the living area of the house. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks for looking after the girls,” Diana said.
“No problem.” Megan smiled, then turned and walked away.
Something didn’t sit well about the way the young teen was dressed, the way she hurried off.
“What’s the matter?” Zack asked.
“I don’t know.” Diana walked out of the laundry room, through the kitchen and into the living room. She glanced through the screen door, but couldn’t see the teenager, who, by that time, had practically vanished.
How was Megan getting to the mall? Who was she meeting? Did her parents know?
Diana turned to find Zack had followed her. So had Becky. But for some reason, her gaze sought Zack’s and connected with the only other adult in the house.
“What’s up?” he asked, obviously sensing her concern.
“Megan sure disappeared quickly.”
“That’s because she’s going to meet some friends at the mall,” Becky said, as though that explained it all. “And she doesn’t want to be late.”
But Diana knew kids weren’t always truthful with adults. And she knew dishonesty often led to disaster. “Becky, where’s your sister?”
“She’s playing in our room.”
“Why don’t you two wash up for dinner. Then you can set the patio table.”
“Okay,” Becky said as she took off down the hall.
Diana looked at Zack. “Is it just me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Megan’s parents are pretty strict. And I have this feeling that they don’t know what she’s up to.”
“My old man never knew where I was going or what I was up to,” Zack said. “But that’s because he never really gave a damn. I guess that’s not always the case.”
No, it wasn’t. Diana’s father had given a damn. Too much of one, sometimes, even though she’d always tried her best to please him.
But that hadn’t stopped her from rebelling one night and going out with a guy who nearly screwed up her young and, up until then, untarnished life.
“If you’ll give me a minute,” she told Zack, “I’ll stick the casserole in the oven. Then, maybe we can sit on the patio and wait for it to heat up. I spend my days in an office, so I love being outdoors whenever possible.”
“You sure it’s no trouble if I join you?”
She smiled. “On Sunday afternoons, I prepare a couple of casseroles that I can warm up during the week when I don’t feel like cooking. So, if you don’t mind tuna, it’s no problem at all.”
But that wasn’t entirely true.
For a woman intent on creating a happy, wholesome, single-parent home, she found her daughters’ friend far more attractive than she cared to admit—especially when she knew nothing about him.
But maybe Zack wasn’t anything like Travis. Not in character and temperament. After all, Zack had gotten her car started. And he’d solved her washing machine dilemma. He’d also been kind to the girls.
She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to ask him a few questions, to get to know him—as a friend, of course.
Yet she was drawn to him in a more-than-friendly way, mesmerized by a don’t-mess-with-me glimmer in his eyes and a bad-boy grin.
And that, experience told her, ought to make him off limits.
While the casserole baked, the aroma of tuna and noodles filled the small kitchen, wafted through the screen slider and out to the patio, where Zack and Diana sat outdoors, sipping iced tea.
Earlier, the girls had set the table, then excused themselves to watch a cartoon movie on the Disney Channel.
Zack wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to stay and eat with Diana and the kids, especially when he’d planned to steer clear of them. But something about the attractive widow stirred more than just his blood.
“How long have you lived in Bayside?” he asked.
“A couple of months.” She slid him a smile. “How about you?”
“I’ve lived in the San Diego area my whole life.” Other than a five-year stretch of time he’d rather forget, of course. “But I just moved to an apartment in Bayside a few months ago.”
“I like this town. It’s close enough to San Diego to have the convenience of a big city, yet small enough to feel as though you know your neighbors.”
Yeah, well, she didn’t know the real Zack Henderson. And even though he’d like to open up and be honest, he couldn’t see the point. Diana was way too nice for a guy like him. She worked at a church, for cripes sake. And she was the widow of a preacher. She certainly wasn’t the kind of woman who’d want to date an ex-con.
Zack didn’t always make quick assessments of a person’s character, but in this case, he couldn’t help it. In his gut, he knew Diana was everything a woman ought to be and he was charmed by her sweet smile, her soft voice.
“Do you have any family around here?” he asked, even though harboring any hope of a relationship with someone like her was a joke. But that didn’t quell his curiosity.
“I have a father and a brother in Texas, but it’s just the girls and me here.”
“It must get lonely,” he said, which was an odd thing for him to assume. But a woman like her ought to have a man to share her life.
Her bed.
Ah, hell. Why couldn’t he keep his mind from imagining sexual stuff when it came to her?
“The girls are my life,” she told him. “I’m content and doing all right.”
He figured she probably was.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do you have family around here?”
How much did he want to reveal? That he had a dad who was living under a bridge somewhere, unless he’d drank himself to death? That his mother died giving birth to him because she hadn’t had any prenatal care and paramedics hadn’t been able to stabilize her?
That he had a daughter someone else was raising because he’d gotten himself in a jam and had spent five years in prison?
He didn’t want to go into any of that, but he couldn’t very well lie to her. It went against the vow he’d made to stay on the straight and narrow. But he didn’t have to toss out too much for her to handle at one time.
“I have a grandmother who’s in an assisted living facility. And I have a four-year-old daughter.”
At the mention of his little girl, she sat up and smiled. “What’s her name?”
“Emily.”
“Who’s looking after her?”
“Her mom.” That wasn’t a lie, he told himself. Technically, Caitlin was a foster parent. But she was also the only mother his daughter had ever known. So for all intents and purposes, Caitlin was Emily’s mom.
“Are you divorc
ed?” she asked.
Shit. This was getting too deep. Too hairy. And honesty was getting tougher to deal with.
But damn it. He wasn’t going to lie, even if he had to withhold information she wouldn’t understand.
Wouldn’t approve of.
“No. I was never married to Emily’s mother.”
She fiddled with the napkin in front of her, picking at the edges.
Had he surprised her? Offended her?
Well, hell. He couldn’t see any reason why he should soften the truth.
There hadn’t been much to the relationship he and Teresa had shared. They’d just been two lonely people who’d found a certain comfort and acceptance in each other’s arms. They hadn’t been in love, so he wasn’t sure if he would have married her, even if he hadn’t been incarcerated when he’d found out she was pregnant with Emily. But he damn sure would have provided for her. For both of them.
“Tell me about her,” Diana said.
“About who?” Emily’s biological mother?
They might have been lovers, but Zack hadn’t known her very well—certainly not as well as he should have, considering he’d gotten her pregnant.
Diana chuckled softly. “About your daughter, silly.”
Oh. That was easy.
A grin tugged at his lips as pride filled his chest. “Emily’s about as cute as they come. And she loves animals. All kinds of animals. In fact, just yesterday, she asked for a pony.”
Diana placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, as though they had something in common. “My daughters have been begging for a puppy, and I’ve been waffling. What did you tell Emily?”
“That I live in an apartment. And that a pony needed a large yard.” A chuckle of his own slipped out. “She, of course, reminded me that I plan to buy a house with a big backyard someday.”
“When are you going to do that?”
When he’d socked enough money away for a down payment.
When his parole was up.
When his life was his own again.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a couple of years away.”
From inside the house, a timer went off, notifying Diana that the casserole was done. She stood, and Zack did, too.
He wasn’t sure about manners and etiquette. Weren’t gentlemen supposed to stand when a woman entered or left the room?
The fact he didn’t have a clue only made him realize how much he lacked when it came to being around a lady like Diana.
Rather than place the hot baking dish on the glass-topped patio table, Diana prepared the plates in the kitchen, then carried them outside.
Like the last time they’d eaten together, Zack had helped the girls light the candle.
They ate with little comment, other than Becky saying that she and her sister were in a hurry to get back to their cartoon movie. Before long, Diana and Zack were left alone, with a silvery moon and flickering candlelight lending a romantic ambiance.
Every now and again, she slid a peek at the man who sat across from her. Sometimes she caught him glancing away. Had he been trying to steal a look at her, too?
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he might be interested in her. But she was a woman with a lot of baggage. Isn’t that what bachelors thought about single mothers?
Of course, Zack had a child of his own, something that suggested she’d misread his rebel side.
On the other hand, he hadn’t married his daughter’s mother.
Diana wasn’t sure why that thought brought Martha Ashton to mind like some kind of overactive conscience. Maybe because Martha would undoubtedly find fault with an unmarried man and woman who’d slept together and created a child.
But Diana certainly couldn’t. Not when her first baby had entered the world seven months after she and Peter had married.
She might strive for perfection, but she, better than anyone, knew how far she fell short.
Her attention returned to her dinner guest, a man who continued to intrigue her. She wondered if he’d ever owned a motorcycle, if he’d ever gotten suspended from school for smoking. If he’d ever turned a good girl’s head.
Then she chastised her imagination and lack of manners.
“Can I get you something else, Travis? More iced tea? Maybe ice cream for dessert?”
“Travis?” he asked, a rebellious grin tweaking only one side of his mouth. “My name is Zack.”
Mortified, she tried to regroup. To recover. “I’m sorry. I know your name. I really do. It’s just that you remind me of someone I once knew.”
“Oh, yeah?” His smile remained lopsided, and the glint of a tease lingered in his eyes. “Who’s that?”
“Just a guy I went to school with.” She shrugged, hoping to change the subject. To get back to mundane, dinnertime chatter.
“An old boyfriend?” he asked, like a stray dog who’d grabbed onto a meaty T-bone and wasn’t about to let go.
“I wouldn’t exactly call him a boyfriend.”
Travis had been more of a mistake, she supposed. A bad decision. A glimpse into a life of trouble.
“What would you call him?” he asked.
She pushed her plate aside, eager to change the subject. But she wasn’t sure how to do so gracefully.
“Not a boyfriend or a date. I never really went out with anyone while I was in school.”
“Why not? The boys had to have been crazy not to chase after you.”
They would have been even crazier to walk up to the front porch and knock on her door.
“There were a few boys who were interested, but my father was pretty strict. Most guys knew better than to come around, especially when he was home. And I managed to discourage those who were braver than the rest.”
“What about your mom?” he asked. “Couldn’t she go to bat for you?”
“My mom left home when I was pretty young. So it was just my dad, my brother and me.”
By the time she was nine, she’d taken on the role of household nurturer by looking after her younger brother, cooking and cleaning, efforts that never seemed to be good enough. Of course, just because her dad was nitpicky didn’t mean he didn’t love his little family. He did his part, too, by working his tail off to keep a roof overhead, food in the pantry and the bills paid.
“I can’t say that I blame your father for being protective,” Zack said. “I’ll bet my daughter is going to grow up every bit as pretty as you did. And I won’t let just any guy take her out on a date. Not when I know how adolescent boys think.”
When it came to being a protective father who distrusted guys with an interest in his daughter, Diana’s dad had been worse than the norm. But she didn’t say anything.
She also let Zack’s comment about her being pretty drop, even though it made her heart swell more than was wise.
Diana didn’t feel so pretty anymore. Not after her marriage to Peter.
“I can’t believe you didn’t date much,” Zack said.
She shrugged and admitted, “I rebelled once.”
“You?” He grinned. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Most people never knew about it. And thank God, my father never found out.”
Zack leaned back in his seat, his legs stretching out in front of him. “They say confession is good for the soul.”
“Oh, yeah?” She glanced at the sliding door, making sure her daughters were out of sight. Out of hearing range. And when she was satisfied the conversation was private, she told Zack something she’d never told anyone before. “His name was Travis Dayton, and he thought he was about as smart and cool as they came. He smoked, drank, rode a motorcycle and didn’t take no for an answer.”
“And you found him attractive?” Zack seemed to sit up straighter, egging her on. Daring her to tell the truth.
“There was something dangerous and compelling about Travis, something I found appealing. And one night, while my dad was on a long haul, leaving me and my brother alone, I snuck out of the house to meet hi
m.”
Zack arched a brow, yet didn’t speak. Didn’t ask.
The truth was, things had gotten a little out of hand, in part because of the beer she and Travis had drank. But she wouldn’t tell Zack that. She didn’t want him to think she’d been a wild child because, other than that one night, she’d always been responsible, dependable and obedient.
Or did she have a rebellious side? Like the one her father swore her runaway mother had? At times, Diana had been afraid it was true. But that was a fear she refused to ponder.
“So you kissed the guy,” Zack said. “Didn’t you?”
“What makes you think that?”
“If I’d have been Travis, I’d have wanted a kiss. And I’d have figured out a way to encourage one.”
Yeah, well, she’d wanted to kiss Travis, too, so encouraging her hadn’t been necessary.
Zack studied her with an intensity that sent her blood racing and her imagination soaring. She thought about the heated kisses she’d shared with Travis. And God help her, the memory only made her wonder what kissing Zack would be like.
As good or better, she suspected.
“Then what happened?” he asked.
“We didn’t go all the way, if that’s what you mean.”
Gosh, she couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with a virtual stranger. But this particular stranger triggered a lot of the same feelings that Travis had. Only now, she was dealing with them on a grown-up level.
“I got a little scared,” she admitted. “And I tried to pull away. But he was really strong, and for a moment, I was afraid he wouldn’t stop, even though I’d asked him to.”
Zack tensed, and his expression sobered. “I’m not sure why you think I remind you of that guy. He was a jerk. And a fool.”
She could understand him taking offense. “I’m sorry. It was just your dark hair and the way you smile that reminded me of him. That’s all.”
His expression, while still intense, lightened a bit. “Did he finally back off?”
“Yes, but he was really angry.” She blew out a ragged, memory-laden sigh. “I always suspected he stopped because a police car had driven up with its red lights flashing, and he was afraid I’d scream for help.”