by Rita Herron
He sprinted through the house to find her. August trotted behind him, stepping on his heels in her haste.
Summer was standing in the bathroom, her eyes dazed. Her little hand shook when she pointed at the cat huddled in the bathtub. “What’s…wrong with Buffy?”
Zeke swallowed nervous laughter. “There’s nothing wrong with her,” he said gently. He knelt down beside the fat, panting calico cat and wrapped his arms around his daughters’ shoulders. He’d barely survived one traumatic moment before another struck.
Now, he had to explain the facts of life to his four-year-old daughters. Buffy was having kittens.
THE CREATIVE SIDE of design and the actual sewing intrigued Paige. She started sketching various ideas for the design project, considering fabric choice, cost and accessories as she worked. For this project, she only needed to design one outfit, but for her final, she’d design an entire wardrobe, taking into account the busy lives and schedules of the women who might wear her creations.
Several minutes later, she stared at the sketch, crumpled the paper and tossed it into the trash. The dress looked all wrong. Too high of a neckline. Not tapered enough. She started another drawing, but the telephone rang, disturbing her concentration.
Maybe it’s the sexy guy next door, calling to ask you for a date.
She reached for the phone, ordering herself to decline the invitation, then sighed in disappointment at the sound of Amelia’s voice. “Hi, Amelia.”
“Hey, Paige. You have to come to my party next week!”
“A party?” Paige blinked in surprise, searching her mind to see if she’d forgotten an important date. No holidays coming up. No birthdays. “What brought this on?” she asked, when nothing special registered.
“I’m getting married!” Amelia squealed so loudly Paige had to hold the phone away from her ear.
“Married? When? To whom?”
“To Derrick, of course. He asked me this afternoon!” Another bout of squeals filled the line. “We’re having an engagement party next Friday night. Can you come?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But Amelia, this is happening so fast. Are you sure?”
Amelia laughed. “I am. He’s definitely my soul mate.”
“That’s great.” Paige twisted the phone cord around her fingers. So, now she was the last of the dying breed of single women among her friends. It shouldn’t bother her. And she was happy for Amelia.
“I would ask you to be my maid of honor, but we’re eloping,” Amelia continued. “He’s taking me to Paris on our honeymoon, I can’t wait, Paige. Life is wonderful.”
Paige’s hands instantly moved across her sketchpad as she began sketching a wedding dress. “I wish you were having a big wedding though. I’d like to design your dress.”
“I know.” Amelia sounded faintly disappointed. “But Derrick wants to get married right away and I’m afraid to wait. You know how guys are, he might change his mind.”
Don’t I? Eric had canceled their wedding the morning of the ceremony.
“Paige, I’m sorry, I know how that must have sounded.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Paige said. “I’m not going to rain on your parade, Amelia. And we are not going to talk about my failed love life.”
“Thanks, Paige, you’re the best,” Amelia said softly. “I’ll see you next Friday.”
The phone clicked into silence before Paige could think of a way to beg out of the party. She turned back to her project, but the house seemed unusually quiet. Growing up as an only child, she should have been used to be being alone. But she’d craved a big boisterous family with lots of sisters and brothers. In retrospect, maybe her need for a family was the reason she’d become so attached to Eric and his son.
But the silence hung in the air, echoing off the walls. Eerie, cold, almost smothering her with the emptiness.
Stop it. You have to get used to it.
Determined to forget Amelia’s wedding, she flipped on the radio and decided to make a batch of brownies. Comfort food always spurred her creativity. She threw the brownie ingredients into a bowl, stirred the thick rich batter and popped the mixture into a pan.
A loud howling sound caught her attention and her gaze strayed to the Blalock house next door. She’d still forgotten to tell Zeke about the neighborhood watch. She’d take them brownies and tell Zeke about the meeting. After all, a welcoming basket of food was only neighborly, and she didn’t want anyone to accuse her of lacking in Southern hospitality.
“DADDY, THAT’S GROSS.” Summer covered her eyes with her hands and peeked through the finger holes as the fourth kitten popped out. Buffy, following her normal motherly instincts, licked the kitten clean.
“They look like skinny rats,” August said, watching the other three kittens burrow underneath Buffy.
“Yeah, they do.” Zeke hoped this kitten was the last. The girls refused to go to bed until all the kittens had been born. But Buffy started panting again, signifying the onset of another birth.
Henrietta sniffed her way in and dropped into the corner, her tongue lolling out as she joined the scene. The doorbell rang and August and Summer both sprang up from their perch on the floor by the tub.
Zeke rose, but August pointed her finger at him. “No, Daddy, you watch Buffy. We’ll get it.” August and her sister scrambled through the door at the same time. Zeke heard their feet padding on the hardwood floor in the foyer as the doorbell rang for the second time.
“Paige!” both girls chimed.
“Hi, girls.”
A second of elation gathered inside Zeke at Paige’s soft musical drawl, but his smile instantly faded when he realized the house was a mess. Boxes cluttered the den, laundry littered the sofa, blankets and kittens filled his bathtub, and pizza sauce spotted his shirt where Henrietta had licked him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have to worry about Paige being attracted to him. She’d never be able to wade through the tornado-strewn house to find him.
“Daddy, Paige brought a treat,” August yelled.
Summer raced into the bathroom. “Daddy, look!”
Buffy’s panting quickened and she dropped another kitten just as Paige and Summer stepped into the doorway.
“We’re having kittens,” August announced proudly.
Paige’s expression turned wary. “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time. I brought over some—”
“Brownies! Yum!” Both girls reached for the basket and Henrietta lunged against Paige, almost knocking her over.
Zeke grabbed Henrietta while Paige held the brownies in the air. “Get down,” Zeke yelled.
Henrietta chowed down on the chocolate chunks that spilled from the basket. Paige’s rich laughter rang through the crowded bathroom, joined first by August’s, then Summer’s.
Zeke lost himself in the moment. It was the first time Summer had laughed in ages. She’d taken the divorce harder than August, having bad dreams and moping around. “Thanks, Paige, those look great,” he said, reaching for a brownie.
“Sure.” Paige leaned over and peeked inside the tub. “The kittens are precious. How many so far?”
Summer held up five fingers.
“The spotted one’s called Callie,” August said.
“And the white one is Cotton.”
Paige nodded. “Do you think she’s finished?”
Zeke shrugged. “Probably.” His pulse hammered as Paige knelt, her bare thigh brushing against his. She reached a finger inside to pet the baby calico’s fur.
“They’re beautiful,” Paige said softly.
The girls gobbled a brownie, dropping chocolate flakes all over the floor. Henrietta quickly lapped up the crumbs.
“Take Henrietta and put her in the yard,” he told the girls. “Then put on your pj’s and brush your teeth. With toothpaste. I’ll be right in to kiss you good-night.”
The girls scampered out, leaving Paige and Zeke alone. Paige watched the kittens nurse and Zeke forced his hands to remain on the tub when t
hey desperately itched to touch her. “Thanks for the brownies,” Zeke said. “My favorite.”
Paige’s gaze locked with his, but she quickly looked away. “I…I meant to tell you earlier that we’ve had some vandalism in the neighborhood.”
“What?” Zeke’s pulse raced. “I thought this neighborhood was safe. That’s why I moved here.”
“It is.” Paige placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “We think the vandals are teenagers. So far, they’ve been sneaking into houses, playing video games, generally messing up people’s homes.”
“Sounds like some real troublemakers,” Zeke said.
“Anyway,” Paige continued, removing her hand, “We’re organizing a neighborhood watch program. The first meeting’s next week at my house.” She absentmindedly ran her tongue over her lower lip as if she were nervous, drawing Zeke’s gaze to the spot. “I hope you’ll come.”
Zeke tried not to read anything personal into the invitation, though he wondered why Paige suddenly averted her gaze again. “I’ll try to make it. That is, if I don’t get hung up at the clinic.”
Paige nodded. “I left a flier on your kitchen counter.”
He winced, wondering how she’d found the counter.
Paige laughed as if she’d read his mind. “It’s by the pizza box.”
He chuckled, aware her eyes darkened when she gazed at him. His body tightened at the undercurrent of attraction strumming between them. Her soft strawberry scent invaded his senses, making him momentarily forget all the reasons he shouldn’t touch her. A dollop of chocolate batter dotted her cheek and he reached out and gently brushed it onto his fingertip. She glanced up in surprise, her eyes widening when he licked the tip of his finger.
Paige’s expression filled with uncertainty, but her lips parted slightly as if in invitation. She was so close her warm breath mingled with his own. Tension, tight and sensual, radiated between them, drawing her closer, dragging him into a web of desire he hadn’t felt in a long time. A year of celibacy surged into need. He didn’t miss the sex as much as he missed the affection, the tender look a woman could give a man, the sweet satisfaction in hearing her whisper his name. Temptation made him tilt his head, and the sensuality and innocence in her expression shocked him.
“We’re ready!” August shouted.
His children’s voices jarred him back to reality. “I’ll be right back,” he said in a husky voice. Don’t move.
He took the steps two at a time, ushered his daughters back upstairs and into bed, then said good-night in record time. He forced himself to walk back down the steps. He didn’t want to act too eager. After all, he’d barely met the woman. He didn’t even know if she had a boyfriend.
But when he stepped into the bathroom, Paige had disappeared.
Chapter Three
Paige avoided Zeke all week. Still, the memory of his masculine scent and his breath whispering against her face made her heart pound with excitement. And turmoil.
Why did all the handsome ones have to be married, divorced with kids, or already committed? Not that she was actively manhunting, but a date here and there would be nice. She deserved some fun. But Zeke Blalock definitely didn’t fit the idea of footloose and fancy-free. Even if he wanted a no-strings relationship, it wouldn’t be fair to his children. They wanted a mother.
And she was not mommy material.
She tried to recall the negative aspects of her neighbor—his house was a mess, he had animals everywhere, and he had no sense of style. For heaven’s sake, his pants and shirt hadn’t even matched.
Still, she’d worked late two nights in a row at the dress shop so she wouldn’t give in to temptation and visit him. The other two evenings she’d stayed up well past midnight working on her design project. The black satin dress had proved to be more of a challenge than she’d expected—especially since every time she pinned the material around herself to assess the fitting, she imagined Zeke unpinning it.
Thursday afternoon, she stood in the window of Beverly’s Boutique, redressing the mannequin. She’d chosen a forest green linen suit and elegant accessories to complement the outfit.
“That looks great.” Beverly traced a finger over the paisley silk scarf she’d used to accessorize the suit.
“Thanks.” Paige changed the belt for the third time.
“You have a hot date tonight?” The thirty-five-year-old entrepreneur who owned the store had become a good friend and confidant in the past few months.
“Not even a cold one,” Paige said with a wry laugh. Not a possibility either. “The neighbors are coming over for a meeting. I am going to an engagement party for a friend tomorrow, though.”
“Great.” Beverly tapped her polished nails on the counter. “Maybe you’ll meet someone there. You’re single and free now, you should be dating a different guy every night.”
“I don’t have time.” Paige stepped back to scrutinize her work. “I’m working my way through school, remember?”
A customer slipped into the shop and Beverly’s posture straightened as she recognized the possibility of a sale. The tall brunette flitted through the store, choosing several outfits to try on, then meandered over to the jewelry counter. Beverly would be off to brownnose any second. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Beverly worked seventy-something hours every week. Her social life was more nonexistent than Paige’s.
Beverly gave her a forlorn look as if she hated to run out in the middle of such an important conversation. Paige laughed, nonplussed. “Go on, make your sale.”
Paige cleaned up the window area, closed out one of the cash registers and waved goodbye as Beverly ran the customer’s credit card through the machine. She could almost hear Beverly’s squeals of excitement as the dollar signs brringed. She admired Beverly. After her husband had deserted her for a younger woman, Bev had borrowed money, opened the shop and made a success out of it.
Paige intended to make a success out of herself the way Bev had with the shop. Her high school home ec teacher had raved over her sewing projects, and a couple of her college professors had encouraged her dream of becoming a designer. Even if she never made it big with her own designs, she could work as a buyer for a big department store.
As she pulled into her driveway, she noticed Zeke and the girls’ empty driveway. As a veterinarian, Zeke probably had to work long hours. Shoving thoughts of them from her mind, she strolled up her driveway and went inside to enjoy the peace and quiet. Zeke probably wouldn’t even make the meeting.
WHAT HE WOULDN’T give for five minutes of peace and quiet before the meeting, Zeke thought as Summer and August battled over who would push the grocery cart. But hoping for peace was futile with two exhausted, hungry, irritable girls in tow. He tried to ignore his daughters’ next argument—which kind of cereal to purchase—as he wove his way through the aisles searching for something nutritious to serve them that could be nuked in the microwave and ready to eat in five minutes.
“I’m starving,” August said, dragging the toes of her sneakers.
“And I’m tired,” Summer whined.
“I’m almost done.” Zeke ignored the boxes of sugar-coated cereal the girls sneaked into the cart. Dinner, bath, the baby-sitter—he wondered how fast he could manage it all once he arrived home.
The young girl behind the counter snapped her gum as she rang his purchases, her gold nose ring dangling precariously. He inwardly cringed, feeling a million years old. How would he handle it if Summer or August grew up and wanted their bodies pierced or tattooed in ungodly places?
“Did you have fun at day care today?” he asked.
“No, Charlie stoled my finger-paint picture,” Summer said.
“But I smacked him one,” August said.
“You did what?” Zeke’s gaze shot to August.
“Right between the eyes,” August said.
“He bledded and everythin’,” Summer mumbled in a low voice.
The girl behind the counter laughed, flashing a mouth full of bra
ces. “Fifty-two dollars and thirty-five cents.”
Zeke sighed. What kind of school allowed children to steal and hit each other?
“Yeah, Ms. Edie said she’s gonna call you,” August said. “But I tolded her you’d want me to ’tect Summer.”
Uh-oh. Zeke paid for the groceries and hauled his girls toward the minivan. On the ride home, he heard them nibbling on the dry cereal, and his thoughts drifted to his uncertainties about parenting. The girls were only in preschool and he was already receiving discipline calls from the teachers. His stomach knotted. He needed a woman’s help. What if he totally screwed up this parenting thing? Would his kids wind up on some daytime talk show one day?
As soon as they pulled in the driveway, the twins ran to check on the kittens. He fixed soup and sandwiches, eating quickly so he could make the meeting next door. He tried to stifle a tingle of excitement at the thought of seeing Paige again.
Zeke showered and quickly changed, choosing his clothes carefully. Being color-blind made matching his wardrobe difficult, so he’d pinned simple tags inside. He carefully matched the tags, then dragged on fresh army green slacks and a cream shirt. By the time the sitter, a teen from down the block, had arrived, he had minutes before the meeting was to start. He strode next door, wondering if he would have a few minutes alone with Paige before the neighbors descended.
PAIGE OPENED THE door and tried not to react to the sight of Zeke’s handsome face grinning at her. Then she noticed his dark gray slacks and brown shirt, and a frown wrinkled her brow. And his socks—one navy, the other brown. The poor man, someone needed to dress him!
“Is something wrong? You’re frowning.”
“No,” Paige said, quickly recovering. “Come on in. You’re the first one here.” Even with mismatched clothes, you look sexy as hell. Darn it.
Zeke entered, sweeping the comfy room with his dark gaze. “Nice house. A little neater than mine.”
“I live alone. That makes all the difference.”