by Megan Kelly
Scott stared at him.
“You answer that and you’ll have your other answers. If you’re not sure yet, you don’t propose.” He stood. “If you love her, you move those mountains, even if they look like sweet little girls.” Dylan clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past. “Good luck, man. Be sure to let me know what you decide.”
Well, crap. He couldn’t just get married because he was in love with Ginger—if he was in love with her, and he wasn’t positive. How could he even ask himself that when his daughters didn’t like the woman?
Sheesh. What would he do with three females in his house, turning everything pink and talking about their feelings all the time? He and Horace would have to hide out in the garage together.
But it sure would be nice to have a mother for his girls. A bed partner for himself, which Ginger had proven to be exceptional at already. A woman to come home to, to cuddle with while watching television and while watching his daughters grow. He couldn’t picture anyone other than Ginger in his arms for those activities.
That, more than anything, told him he had his answer.
ON SATURDAY, SCOTT WATCHED Ginger approach across the frozen white grass to the outdoor ice rink. His daughters had a skating lesson, and since the rink was at a park in the adjacent town, he’d figured it a neutral place away from prying eyes. He had to get them together, to get all three females past this resemblance thing. His daughters had to see Ginger for herself, not a reminder of the mom they couldn’t have. No wonder they didn’t send out warm and fuzzy vibes to her.
He could use some warm and fuzzy right about now, standing outside to watch the girls skate. What was wrong with these Missourians? Why didn’t they put a rink in a warmly heated shopping mall like civilized people?
“Hey,” he greeted as she neared. “Thanks for coming.”
An emerald stocking hat covered her hair and ears, emphasizing the grass-green of her eyes. The unrelieved black of her long wool coat leached the color from her skin. Scott wanted to kiss her, just pull her close and feel her cold lips and hot breath. He glanced at the girls, pushing metal folding chairs in front of them for balance.
“They’re doing well,” Ginger said, also locating the girls on the ice.
“Second lesson. Believe it or not, we go from here to swimming back at the Howard Y. Indoors, thank God. I’ll be sweating within ten minutes.”
Ginger smiled. “Which you’ll love.”
“Oh, yeah. Looking forward to it.” He soaked in her nearness, aching as he noticed her pale features under the tinge of pink from the cold. Maybe it wasn’t the black coat. Had he done that, caused her to look so thin and drawn? “Thanks for coming.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“Can I tell you about the resemblance thing first, from my point of view?”
She nodded. “That would help.”
He glanced over the skaters, spotting his girls, but not really seeing the others. The right words eluded him. What could he say that wouldn’t dishonor Sam but would clue in Ginger to how he felt? Slow-talking her into marriage would take some doing, but as he’d told Dylan, there wasn’t any need to hurry.
“I saw you across the room, dancing. Your hair caught my eye. Mine, and like I’ve said, every guy’s there.” He smiled at the memory. “You moved with an unconscious sensual intensity that had us all watching you.”
“Did you not ask me to dance earlier than you did because I looked like your wife?”
You look like my future wife, he could have told her. Instead he shook his head, placing his palms on the waist-high wooden railing. “I liked watching you dancing and having fun. I admired you, as a man does a beautiful woman, but I didn’t plan to make a move.”
“No connection.”
There was that word again.
“Right. Until I saw you off to the side, looking lost in the crowd of strangers. You looked like I felt, as though you wondered what crazy impulse had prompted you to attend a party.”
She smiled. “I wasn’t in a party mood, you’re right. I’d received some bad news that day, and I want to talk to you about that in a minute. But I know what ‘prompted’ me to go, as you put it. My best friend is married to your boss.”
His spirits lifted. Just one more way they fit together. Friends in common. “You’re friends with Tara?”
“With Lisa, Joe Riley’s wife.”
“Ah, right. Dylan mentioned that a while back. I’ve had some of her desserts in the break room, but I haven’t met her. So she talked you into coming.”
“Lisa can be persistent.”
She must be, Scott thought, to persuade his little redhead into doing something she didn’t want to do.
“But,” Ginger said, “back to the point. You saw the resemblance and took me to bed.”
“Hell, no. Hold on.” He lowered his voice when heads turned, frowns intact. “Look. I saw the resemblance, thought you were pretty. Your enjoyment on the dance floor, your love of life, drew me closer. But I took you upstairs because of your pull on me and your kindness when the band played that song and the way you smiled and talked about yourself. Just everything you did made me want to get to know you better.” He shrugged. “I can’t pretend to be sorry that getting to know you better started in bed.”
“I’m not sorry, either, Scott. It was a wonderful night.”
That didn’t sound good. The words were right, but the underlying tone resonated with goodbye. Panic rushed through him as he sought for the words she needed to hear. With a tug on her elbow, he led her a good fifteen feet away, seeking a secluded spot. Too many parents could overhear standing around the rink’s railing.
“I’m going to be blunt here. I didn’t take you to bed hoping to recapture moments with my wife.”
She recoiled.
“I don’t see her when I look at you. I’ve mourned her, Ginger, and I’m ready to move on. I can’t say I’m not still grieving,” he conceded. “Part of me will always miss her. But she doesn’t hold my heart anymore.”
He searched her face. Did she understand what he was saying? That she’d captured his heart. If she gave him a hint of her feelings, that she was falling for him in return, he’d tell her with words. Express his love, tell her he’d like to marry her in the very near future.
Scott stomped his feet, trying to warm up. This was not the place or time for a serious, drawn-out conversation. If he wasn’t worried someone might see them, he’d take Ginger to his Jeep. The added privacy would lend him the courage he needed.
A proposal didn’t feel impulsive. Ill-timed, perhaps, as they stood talking about his feelings for Samantha. But not rushed or too soon. In his heart, he knew Ginger was the right woman for him. She and the girls would work through their difficulties because they fit as a family. He’d have it all, wife, lover, mother to his daughters, if only she’d give him the slightest bit of encouragement.
“I’m relieved,” she said. “I’d hoped.”
After a glance around at the other parents, she grimaced, then stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his. They were as cold as he imagined, but the joy the simple kiss brought came as a surprise.
They were going to be okay.
Scott swallowed. He’d give it a minute, talk about different topics to put some distance between the conversations, but then he’d tell her she belonged in his life permanently. Maybe not a flat-out proposal, but a promise for the future. Together.
“What’s with the look?” he asked. When she tilted her head in question, he expanded. “Before you kissed me. You made a sour face like you’d smelled dead catfish.”
She laughed. “Ew. No. I just saw someone in the crowd, watching. She’ll go home and report us being together.”
“Who?” He turned, but no one’s attention caught his.
“The woman in the purple parka.”
“Who is she? Not the mom of a student?”
“No, but there are a few of them here. And Dylan’s brother, if you want me to int
roduce you to him. His twins are skating.”
“Yeah, I would. Later.” He didn’t take his gaze from the purple parka woman. “Who is she?”
“She’s Cindy Grady’s sister.”
Scott jerked his gaze to Ginger. “You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.” He swore under his breath. Of all the rotten luck. But… “You kissed me anyway.”
Ginger shrugged. “I’m tired of worrying about Cindy’s opinion. I haven’t done anything wrong. If our relationship could be seen as benefitting Shelby as my student, then I’d feel differently. But it’s not like there’s much I can do in second grade to influence her report card. She doesn’t write essays up for interpretation. Her work is pretty much either getting the right answer or not.”
“You kissed me anyway.” He sounded like an idiot repeating himself, but the impact floored him. Maybe it wasn’t too soon for that proposal after all. Ginger had just taken their relationship public.
“You said that already.” Her cheeks deepened in color. “Jeez, it’s not like I threw you to the ground, tore off your clothes and jumped you.”
“Please don’t.”
She started. “What?”
“The ground is far too cold. But we can go to my car.”
She smiled.
“Get the heater going. Rev our engines.” He winked.
“Don’t be silly.”
“Later?”
Ginger looked away, across the crowd to the ice. “Possibly.”
He hugged her, then watched Shelby inching her weight upright, trying to skate without touching the chair, and the annoyance on her face as she had to grab for support. Serena hung on to her gray metal chair as though it were her new best friend, but she’d been smiling throughout the entire session. Her face had probably frozen that way, like his mama always warned him could happen. “We might as well go back rinkside. It wouldn’t hurt for the girls to see us together.”
Her hand on his arm stopped him.
“Wait.” Ginger drew in a cold breath of air. “I have something to tell you, too.”
“Okay. Whatever it is, we’ll work through it.”
“I hope so. You know about my divorce, right?”
“Just that you are. Haven’t heard much about the fool who let you go, but I’m grateful he did.” Please, God. Don’t let her say the guy abused her. She’d been through enough with him and the girls. Maybe the jerk squeezed the toothpaste from the middle of the tube and she’d walked out, fed up.
“It’s serious, Scott.” She drew a deep breath. “I can’t have children.”
Sorrow squeezed his chest. “Oh, hell. Honey, I’m so sorry. You’d be a great mother.”
“Thanks. I think so. I hope so.”
He paused, caught off guard. Thank God he had the girls, right? Is that why she’d stuck with him? He provided her with an instant family. Now he sounded like she had, worrying about the whole resemblance thing. But this was different.
After thinking through several ideas how this was different, the simple truth hit him. It wasn’t. She’d worried why he was attracted to her; now he worried about the same thing. But he was a quick learner. Instead of pulling away, he’d just ask.
“Pretty handy I have daughters, isn’t it?”
Her jaw dropped and he had his answer before she found words. For an instant, he hoped she wouldn’t find words, but that was dashed by her squeal of outrage.
“Handy? They hate me because I look like their mother but I’m not their mother. You think that’s handy? If we continue this relationship, take it forward, I’m going to have to work my butt off to make them tolerate me. You think that’s the kind of relationship I’d run toward?”
He held up his hands. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just wondered. Like you wondered when you heard you look like Sam.”
The fury sagged out of her.
He touched her arm. “I just thought how convenient it was—sorry, I know it’s not convenient, but you get my thought process, right?”
She nodded, then shook her head.
Women. What the hell did that mean? But her face said she accepted his explanation. Probably thought he was a fool, but accepted that, too.
“So what does your not being…?” He connected the dots. “He left you because you couldn’t have kids?”
“Yeah. Thanks for announcing it.”
The nearest person stood at the rink fifteen feet away, but Scott’s rage might have carried.
“Sorry.” Anger surged through him, along with some silent swearing. Not the place for that, with all these kids and parents nearby. Some jerk had broken her heart for something she had no control over?
The cold burned his lungs and crystallized his thoughts. “I’m sorry, honey. Sorry you were hurt.”
He took her mittened hands in his. “You know it doesn’t matter to me, don’t you? I’ve already got the girls. Despite their current feelings, we can work through this and find a way to be together. I don’t need you to have a baby with me. I’m happy with the children I have.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, visibly gathering her emotions. “Thank you. You have no idea what it means to me to hear you say that. You’re ten times, twenty, a hundred times a better man than my ex.”
“I’m going to ask about your ex only one time. I figure you’d still be together if you could have kids or he could accept that you can’t. You must have loved him. Are you over him?”
“He’s like a dead catfish to me.”
Scott laughed. “Okay, then.”
This he could live with. She had an ex, a first husband, just as he had a first wife. They’d gone through good and bad with those people and both of them had dealt with their feelings for their spouses.
“There’s one thing more,” she said.
Holy mother. How could there be more? A scan of her features didn’t scream “catastrophic” so he just nodded and waited. How bad could it be?
“I’m in the process of adopting a baby.”
A hot ball of dread hit his gut, sinking to his core, spreading through him. Burning, freezing, withering the hope of a future with Ginger.
“I’d been going through an adoption agency and getting nowhere. So I started the private adoption process.” Her gaze flew over his face. She rushed on. “Right now, I have two pregnant women considering me to raise their babies. We’re in the last conversations. I don’t think I’ll get both babies.” Her laugh sounded nervous. “I wouldn’t mind, but it would be harder. I would actually love it. Like having twins.”
She shook her head, looking thrilled at the idea. Almost vibrating with excitement.
He only stared, numb with disbelief. She stood talking about adopting two babies while a storm of denial raged through his brain.
“So, say something,” Ginger said. “I know we haven’t talked about a future, but we’ve talked around it. I’m trying to be honest here. To let you know I might come as a package, too.”
She gazed at him, waiting for his response. He knew she wanted it to be enthusiastic. After all, he’d taken in the stupid dog. He obviously wasn’t averse to added responsibility or growing his family.
His lips moved. “I don’t want to adopt.”
He heard his tone: flat, uncompromising, final. He couldn’t take the words back.
Ginger flinched. “But…” Her mouth opened and closed; she appeared too upset and surprised to form words. It took another full minute. “Why not?”
He shook his head. Not going into all that. Couldn’t. He’d set aside that ugliness and had no plan to revisit or rehash or reveal it all now. So he settled on half the truth. “I have children already. They’re enough for me.”
Her expression crumpled.
He felt like a bastard. “Can’t they be enough for you, too? Can’t you just love my girls?”
Tears formed in her eyes. “I want a baby.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t be any part of that.”
Chapter Eleven
Murphy’s Law? Or
was it one of those “truths universally recognized” that when you didn’t want to see someone you encountered that person at every turn? Ginger ducked Scott in the grocery store the next day, and wound up sneaking out with only half the groceries she’d planned to pick up. Then she drove to the discount store to finish shopping for the school party on Monday and pulled out of the parking lot as his Jeep pulled in. Their eyes met before he very deliberately turned down an aisle away from her.
The Valentine’s party would be hell. She checked the list the room mom, Mrs. West, had given her, and Scott was in charge of some of the food. He was also bringing a music CD he’d put together to play on the computer. Incredibly ironic that she didn’t want to see the man she loved on Valentine’s Day.
Then he didn’t show.
She couldn’t believe it. He’d come in before school and left the food in the refrigerator the cafeteria kept for school events. He put the music disk in her mailbox. The coward. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to see him and he obviously didn’t want to see her. It didn’t matter that Shelby seemed accepting of the excuse that her dad had to work. It didn’t matter that he’d broken her heart and she despised him.
He should have shown up.
So after school, when everyone was gone and everything was clean, Ginger drove to Riley & Ross Electronics to tell Scott what a jerk he was.
“Hey, Ginger,” Dylan said, seeing her in the hall.
“Oh, hi.” She’d been directed to Scott’s area, but it turned out to be a huge open room with large desks, multiple monitors, miscellaneous parts, architectural plans, computer plans, myriad papers and plenty of drink cups. She’d been peering into the room, trying to locate Scott to flag him over. This wasn’t the place for the conversation she had planned.
“What’s going on?” Dylan asked. “Oh, you’re here to see Scott, of course.”
She nodded. “If I’m not interrupting. I know he’s not off yet.”
Dylan flipped open the phone on his belt holster. “Half an hour. It doesn’t matter. We’re not that strict about punching the clock. Plenty of times he’ll be working late on a project. You want me to call him?”