by Toni Blake
Despite her admission, he couldn’t help wondering if maybe she’d just changed her mind. Maybe inviting him in for coffee had been a trial run. Maybe he hadn’t passed the test. Maybe the baby was a convenient excuse. So it was time to cut his losses.
“Well,” he said, “I should go. Thanks for the coffee.” He drained his cup and got to his feet, his cat in his hand.
“Wait,” she said, rising as well.
“What?” he asked.
He watched as she pulled in her breath. “Maybe you could…come over and grill out,” she suggested cautiously.
Derek immediately dropped a smug glance in the baby’s direction and hoped Holly hadn’t noticed. And, at the same time, he felt like someone had given him a parachute just before he’d crashed to the ground.
On one hand, maybe he should be running in the opposite direction from a woman who didn’t seem to know exactly what she wanted. But on the other hand was how gorgeous she was and how much she’d stayed on his mind since they’d met.
“All right,” he said. “Tonight?”
She nodded.
“Seven o’clock?”
She nodded again and he couldn’t help but smile. His heart was bending again, bending and twisting itself into a pretzel inside his chest.
Baby or no baby, looked like he was having dinner with Holly Blake tonight.
***
Holly fairly floated into the bedroom, the handle of Emily’s carrier looped over her arm like an Easter basket. She set the carrier on her bed, then scooped her daughter up into her arms, twirling her in a circle. “Our new neighbor is coming over to dinner tonight, Em!” How incredible!
A few minutes later, she shed her robe and gown and stepped into the shower. Normally, the morning shower was like torture to her waking body, but today she felt fresh and alive, and ready. Yes, ready. Just like the music he listened to so loudly, Derek’s very presence created that same sense of anticipation and excitement inside her. She lathered the soap over her arms and shoulders as the invigorating water blasted down on her skin.
When she’d grilled out last night, she’d hoped maybe he’d wander over, and silly as it was, when there’d been no sign of him, she’d even gone so far as to start concocting stories in her mind. Like that it must mean he had no interest in her whatsoever. Or maybe he was even out on a date. And when she’d seen him outside this morning, instinct had combined with desire and simply taken over.
She’d felt bold inviting him in for coffee, but it had seemed so easy and had progressed so much like her fantasy. And yes, she’d almost blown it there for a minute—almost let her motherly urges shove all her other urges back into hiding—but in the end she’d pulled herself together and made something happen! She stepped out of the shower already thinking about progressing to the peeling-off-the-clothes part of her lurid little vision.
But wait. Wrapping a thick towel around herself, she stopped, bit her lower lip. I’m getting way ahead of myself here. So he had brushed up against her breast today. Twice. Even so, both times had clearly been unintentional. And a couple of unintentional connections like that didn’t mean he wanted her with the same intensity that she wanted him.
Padding to the bedroom, she released a long sigh. Unintentional or not, the incredible sensations had reminded her of the fire that could burn in her soul, the fire that had once burned there, long ago, before marriage and having a baby and grown-up life. She knew some women kept right on feeling those desires and sensations, through everything—but for her, they had faded into the background and other important things had taken over her life.
When his accidental touch had initially occurred, she’d been mortified and had actually wanted to crawl under the table for a moment—she was so glad they had been able to laugh about it in the end. And even as they’d laughed together, even as she’d pretended it was nothing, she’d been enveloped in remembering the velvety contact with his hand.
Was it possible for her to be a mature adult and still have that fire, that readiness that had so consumed her these past couple of days? Could she find the balance between the fear she felt in response to her own emotions and the heat that coursed through her veins?
“This isn’t like me,” she murmured to herself, stepping back in the bedroom where her daughter waited quietly.
Glancing down at the baby, Holly found twinkling eyes and a sweet smile. She reached out and gently tweaked Emily’s tummy through her summer playsuit, making her laugh. “Aaaaa.”
But her early morning escapade with Derek had made her late, so she had to hurry. Reaching in the closet, she yanked out the first dress she laid her hand on and rushed to get ready.
She’d figured she’d meet other men and start dating again eventually, but she hadn’t expected it now. Just like she hadn’t expected all this readiness. It had just shown up, out of the clear blue.
And she wasn’t sure it was a good time to start dating again, especially not with a guy who could do such delicious things to her with just a glance. She was still trying to get her life in order, after all, and she knew that this would more than likely just complicate things. Feeling confused as she buttoned up the pale yellow dress, she stopped and looked at Emily.
If only Emily were older—old enough to talk, and to have opinions. The baby tilted her head and said, “Enh,” as if to remind Holly that she couldn’t.
Wouldn’t it be nice, though, if Emmy could give her some hint on what to do about Derek. After all, what concerned Holly concerned Emily, too. Holly would never go out with any guy she thought Emily didn’t approve of. She would never place her own happiness before her little girl’s.
Emily peered up at her with eyes that had just recently become hazel and Holly couldn’t help smiling down into them. Was it okay to want this man, another man besides Bill? Another man besides Emily’s father? And was this the right time—now, when she was already overwhelmed with so many responsibilities?
She sighed, wishing she had the answers. But for now, they remained a mystery.
***
Derek put on one his better pairs of jeans and a dark T-shirt. Looking in the bathroom mirror, he brushed his hair, thinking it needed a trim. Not that he ever usually thought he needed a trim—he usually let his hair grow until it started bothering him. He only thought he needed a trim tonight because he wanted Holly to think he was a nice guy.
“I am a nice guy,” he said, looking down at his nameless cat, who stood watching him from the doorway. “After all, I adopted you.”
Of course, he’d only adopted the cat to make Holly think he was a nice guy. So maybe the act cancelled itself out.
He couldn’t remember a time when he’d changed his behavior simply to impress a woman. And he didn’t know what was so bad about his real self that he felt the need to cover it up.
He just wasn’t as conservative as she seemed to be. He took life as it came and didn’t worry over how long his hair was or if he had a clean pair of socks to wear the next day.
“I am a nice guy,” he said to the mirror.
He wondered if she’d ever dated anyone like him before. He wondered what she would think if she knew about his family—or lack thereof, about the way he’d grown up. A nice woman like her in her dressy shorts and high-necked nightgown—she’d probably be horrified to hear about his youth.
But he’d changed since then. With Aunt Marie’s guidance and a little ambition, he’d left his past behind. Now, at thirty-one, he thought he’d finally turned into a pretty nice guy.
“I am a nice guy,” he insisted once more.
“Meow,” the cat said, as if in protest.
What on earth was he doing going over there for dinner anyway? Let alone worrying about making a good impression. Just because the baby hadn’t screamed her head off this morning didn’t change anything—he still wasn’t a baby kind of guy and he had no intentions of becoming one. He might be able to adjust his image by dressing a little nicer than usual and getting a haircut, but tha
t didn’t change who he was inside.
“And don’t think I’m becoming a cat guy, either,” he said, pointing a finger at the dirty kitten.
He checked his watch and discovered it was only 6:30. And he wasn’t about to show up early—he didn’t want to look eager. Especially considering the baby—that baby might make this a very short-lived romance, and there was no need to give Holly the impression this was going to be a big deal. Gorgeous or not.
He glanced once again at the still-gray kitten. “Maybe I should try to clean you up,” he said. It wasn’t so much that he cared about his house or his clothes, but if the cat was gonna be visiting next door, he didn’t want it making a mess.
So he bent down and raked the kitten up off the floor—and with his other hand, he ruffled the cat’s long fur. Dust flew and he sneezed. “Where have you been living? In a cave?”
He ruffled the kitten’s fur some more to send a large amount of gray dust floating up into the air. But it was easy to see that there was more dirt on the cat than a simple rumpling of fur was gonna get rid of. And besides, he had gotten sort of curious as to what the cat would look like in white.
Lowering the kitten onto the top of the clothes hamper, he turned toward the tub and started running a bath. Then he rummaged under the sink and found some bubble bath left from Aunt Marie. Careful to make the water not too cold and not too hot, he let the bubbly pool get a few inches deep.
Pleased with himself, he then lifted the cat from the hamper and gently placed him in the tub. “Get ready, buddy—here it comes.”
But when the cat’s paws touched the water, it screeched and shot straight into the air, the claws on each paw extended! Water splashed and white soap suds flew, plopping on the toilet, on the floor, and on Derek. After it landed with a plop, it yowled again and tried wildly to clamber up the side of the old porcelain bathtub.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, grabbing the cat who kept clawing like a maniac at the tub’s steep side, then immersing it back into the water.
“Hey, ow—stop that, damn it!” Derek yelled as the cat now clawed madly at his arm instead. “I mean it!” Too bad if the cat didn’t like baths—he was gonna get him clean one way or the other.
With that thought in mind, he reached his other hand into the suds that remained in the tub and scrubbed the cat’s back. The cat yowled and scratched at him some more, but having come this far, he was determined to get the job done.
After a couple of minutes, the kitten finally calmed down and let Derek wash him, but his little body remained tense and stiff and angry in Derek’s grasp.
Of course, when he turned the water back on and held the cat under the faucet to rinse him, World War III broke out all over again, Derek battling the cat.
When the kitten was finally rinsed, Derek grabbed a towel with his free hand and scooped him into it. After mushing him around in the terrycloth for a minute, he set the towel down and watched the wet cat go streaking from the bathroom in search of someplace safe.
“Hey,” Derek said in amazement, “you really are white.”
***
Holly checked her appearance in the mirror. Shorts and a summery, pastel top were a nice, casual switch from “teacherwear”. She’d removed the barrette she’d worn to school that day, as well, letting her long hair fall around her face.
Next she took a look at Emily, lifting her out of her swing where she’d fallen asleep. “Wake up, Em,” she said.
Emily had spit up on her mint green sunsuit today at daycare, so Holly had changed her into another cool, sleeveless outfit, this one featuring white poodles adorned with pink bows. “You look pretty, Emily,” Holly told her. Then she held her daughter up to let her peer into the mirror. “See how pretty you look.”
“Enh,” Emily said disinterestedly, glancing away.
“Well, someday you’ll really care about this stuff,” Holly told her. “I promise.”
Emily swung her head around and pointed at her stuffed Eeyore, who lay on his side on the couch. “Aaaaaa,” she said.
When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, Holly, Emily, and Eeyore greeted Derek at the door and Holly was immediately taken with how good he looked. It was an entirely different feeling than she got from seeing him after a day’s work. When he was decked out in construction gear and sweat, she could think of nothing but heat. Of the most searing kind. But looking at him now, nearly drowning in the deep chocolate hue of his sultry eyes, she thought of warmth. A softer kind of heat than he emitted when hot and sweaty. A cozier heat. Like a blanket. Or a small fire crackling in a hearth. She immediately wanted to cuddle with him.
“Hi,” she said, loosening a hand from the baby to open the screen door.
He smiled. “Hi.”
And when he stepped inside, the sudden realness of the situation struck Holly all over again. She was about to spend an evening with an attractive man. It was all so strange and unexpected that it took on a surreal quality she could barely comprehend. And it all stemmed from the heat she felt in his presence—every kind—and from that wonderful, horrible readiness. When you truly forget how something feels, you don’t expect to ever feel it again, and yet here it was, swallowing her.
“I hope you like steak,” she said hopefully.
“Love it,” he replied.
“Are you good with a grill?”
He shrugged. “I’m better with a grill than a stove.”
“Good enough,” she said on a laugh. “Everything’s on the patio, if you’d like to go on out.”
“You sure there’s nothing I can help you carry?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve kinda got your hands full.” He glanced at her baby-filled arms.
“Well,” she conceded, “you can get some drinks from the fridge if you want. There’s soda, iced tea, and beer. Grab whatever you’d like for yourself, and I’ll have some tea.”
As he dug in the refrigerator, she freed a hand from Emily and Eeyore to reach for a glass in one of the overhead cabinets.
But Derek quickly rose up. “I can get that for you.”
“Thanks,” she said softly.
She waited appreciatively as he found a glass and poured her tea. Then he grabbed a beer for himself and carried both drinks out onto the patio, following her.
Taking a seat at the round outdoor table with Emily in her lap, Holly picked up a bottle she’d brought out a few minutes earlier and slid the nipple into Emily’s waiting mouth. “If I can get her to drink her bottle and eat her strained peaches while you cook, then we might get to eat an uninterrupted meal,” she explained to Derek, who stood with his back to her as he worked at the grill.
“Does that not happen a lot?” he asked over his shoulder. “You getting to eat an uninterrupted meal?”
“Well,” she said, thinking it through, “getting interrupted a lot is kind of par for the course with a baby.” Then she looked down at Emily and made a silly face. “But she’s worth it. Aren’t you, sweetie?”
By the time Derek had cooked the steaks and baked potatoes, wrapped in foil, Holly had succeeded in feeding Emily her dinner. She felt a little odd—she’d obviously never been on a date with a baby before, and she hoped Derek didn’t find it annoying. But this was the way it had to be. She needed her time with Emily, and Emily needed her mommy time, too.
As she laid Emmy in her carrier and tilted it back into reclining position, she felt guilty about silently willing the baby to fall asleep. But she wanted a little time with this man.
Actually, she wanted a lot of time with him.
Still, she’d settle for a little.
To her guilt and joy, Emily did indeed fall asleep, allowing the two of them to share pleasant conversation over dinner—about the weather and the neighborhood and both their jobs. And Holly couldn’t deny to herself that it was nice to spend time talking to an adult for a change. She adored being with Emily, of course, and she loved her third graders, as well, but…it was nice to have a real conversation. One that had mo
re depth than the two-minute meetings she had with parents or other teachers.
And nice, too, to have it with such a gorgeous hunk of man. Just sitting next to him, looking into those sexy eyes as they talked, filled her up with something that had definitely been missing. Simple masculinity. Though she’d never thought about it before, it struck her then that sometimes a woman just need to be around that. Life could be full without a man, sure—but there was nothing wrong with enjoying having one around.
“I named the cat,” he announced, pushing his empty plate back and lying his used napkin atop it.
Holly smiled. “And the name is?”
“Claws.”
She raised her eyebrows. “As in Santa?”
“No,” he said, “as in this.” Derek then held out his arms, revealing to her that both were covered with deep red scratches from wrist to elbow.
Holly gasped and instinctively reached out to gently touch two fingers to one of the thick red lines.
But she hadn’t been thinking, hadn’t been expecting the jolt of electricity that coursed through her veins when her fingertips met his skin. Slowly letting her hand come to rest on his arm, she lifted her gaze to his warm, sexy eyes.
Should she offer to kiss the wounds and make them better? Or perhaps she should just offer to rub something on them. Maybe she should forget the scratches altogether and offer to kiss other places.
Their eyes locked with an intense heat she’d never quite felt before, and her chest began to tighten. She swallowed, unnerved by the sensations that held them both so still, so on-the-brink of something bigger than she could completely understand. God help her, but she wanted this man. And the look in his eyes was enough to make her think he wanted her, too.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Waaa,” Emily pouted from her carrier.
Oh no. Not now, Em. What a time for her to wake up!
And then pouting quickly turned to something louder.
“Waaaaa! Waaaaaaaa!”
With quivering breath, Holly drew both her hand and her gaze away from Derek as her daughter’s cries grew more insistent. Emily needed her.