by Jackie Braun
“Suburbia,” Danielle corrected with another roll of her eyes.
“That sounds like fun.”
“Grandpa lets us eat raw cookie dough,” Colin confided.
“Colin!” Danielle gasped.
“We’re not supposed to tell anyone,” the little boy said. “You’re not going to say anything to our mom, are you?”
“Who? Me? I can keep a secret.”
Julia emerged from the hallway right then. She was wearing a pair of khaki shorts that ended at midthigh and a white T-shirt with a scooped neckline. Even though the outfit covered everything, his imagination began filling in the blanks. He bit back a groan and willed his thoughts to stay in the PG range, given their audience. The woman had a first-rate pair of legs. Pale, since she didn’t have a lot of time to spend sunning herself outdoors and apparently didn’t bother with a faux tan. But they were slim and shapely. An image of those legs wrapped around Alec’s waist worked its way past his best intentions.
“What’s this about secrets?” she asked.
Alec had a few he wouldn’t have minded sharing if they were alone. He glanced at Colin and Danielle. Their eyes were wide, as if they expected him to rat them out about the raw cookie dough. He rose to his feet and handed Julia the flowers instead.
“I hope you like daisies.”
Julia’s face flushed with pleasure. “What’s not to like about daisies? Thank you.”
Colin came over and gave them a sniff. He wrinkled his nose afterward and declared, “They kinda stink.”
“They don’t stink.” Julia looked horrified.
Alec leaned over and inhaled. His gaze held hers. “They don’t really have much of a smell,” he said diplomatically.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. If they were alone, Alec would have given in to temptation and kissed her. He probably should be happy for their audience, he thought, since it was keeping him from doing something that neither of them was sure was wise.
“What’s in the bag?” Colin asked.
“These are for you and Danielle.” Now that he was handing them over, Alec felt embarrassed. “They’re not much. Just something that caught my eye while I was standing at the register.”
“Cool! Little fans!” Colin shouted. He had the plastic blades of his whirling around even before Danielle had hers out of the bag.
“I, um, don’t think they can cause injury,” Alec told Julia. At least he hoped.
Colin put his index finger to the blade to test out the theory. The fan slapped at it and then stopped until he pulled it away.
“Nope. No blood. And it hardly hurt at all, Mom.”
Alec smiled weakly. “It was these or candy,” he said to Julia.
“Then I appreciate your restraint.” To her children she said, “What do you say to Mr. McAvoy?”
“Thank you,” they replied in unison. Then Colin said, “He said I can call him Alec.”
Giggles ensued. Julia cut a questioning gaze to Alec, who shrugged.
“Come on,” Julia said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go start dinner.”
They left the kids in the living room, playing with the fans and watching television. Her kitchen was small, but like the rest of the apartment, it was tidy. Four places were already set at the table. Julia arranged the flowers in a vase and put them in the center. The arrangement was simple, the perfect complement to the basic white dishes and folded paper napkins. Alec often ate off fine china and dabbed his mouth with Irish linen. Yet he doubted he’d ever seen anything more perfect.
Home.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head as the word echoed in his head. “No,” he said again. “So, what are we making?”
“First things first.”
She opened a drawer and held out a white chef’s apron. It had Kiss the Cook written across the bib. He cocked an eyebrow up at that and thought, why not? He intended the kiss to be light, friendly. More than the sort of kiss a man would give his mother, but short of the sort he would give a lover. It was brief and reasonably chaste. But nothing about it was friendly.
She stared at him afterward, her fingers touching her lips. “What was that for?”
“Just following instructions,” he managed to respond in a casual tone as he pointed to the slogan on the apron she still held.
She blinked, visibly off-kilter. “But I’m not the cook.”
“Then I guess you should be kissing me.”
“Alec—”
“It’s just a kiss. Chicken?” He wondered if she’d take the dare.
She glanced toward the doorway. Debating?
“Why don’t you take off your coat and tie.” The request had his full attention until she added, “And roll up your shirt sleeves.”
Ah. Right. Even wearing an apron, it wouldn’t be a good idea to prepare a meal in a tailored suit. He made a soft clucking sound as he began to peel off the jacket. Her eyes narrowed. His arms were tangled in gabardine when she grabbed his tie and hauled him close. This kiss was every bit as brief as the one he’d given her, but it packed a wallop.
“Satisfied?” she asked afterward.
He smiled slowly. “What do you think?”
Julia shook her head and expelled a sigh. “I think you’d better put on the apron.”
A moment later, clad in the apron and holding a large knife in his hand, Julia set him up in front of a cutting board with washed stalks of celery.
“We’ll start with something very basic. Sliced-up vegetables with dip as an appetizer.”
“You weren’t kidding about basic.”
“I want to gauge your skill with a knife before I turn you loose.” She pointed to the celery. “Trim each stalk at the bottom and at the top just down from the leaves. Then cut them into three equal pieces.”
He did as instructed. “That was easy enough and I still have all of my fingers.”
Alec wiggled the digits on his left hand for her benefit.
“Okay, wise guy, think you can manage the carrots without any tutoring? They need to be peeled, too.” She pursed her lips. “It’s best to do it over the sink.”
On that advice, she handed him a funky little tool and made a shaving motion. How hard could it be? he thought. Five minutes later, peels were everywhere, including still on parts of the carrots, and he had skinned up a knuckle. He glanced over at Julia, who was holding back a grin. His ego should have felt bruised. Instead, he was enjoying himself. Immensely. He could hear cartoons playing on the television in the other room. Every now and then, one of her kids would laugh.
Home.
“I’m out of my element,” he told Julia truthfully.
“But you’re doing okay.” She regarded the gnarled stumps of carrots. “It just takes practice.”
“You make it seem so easy,” he said quietly. He glanced around the tiny kitchen. “And I’m not talking about peeling carrots, in case you’re wondering. I envy you, Julia.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “And what you’ve created here for you and your kids.”
“Mom.” Danielle stood in the doorway. “Colin put his fan in his hair and now it’s stuck.”
Julia speared him with a wry look. “And you said you envy me.”
When she returned a moment later, he had arranged the sorry-looking assortment of veggies on a plate.
“How’s Colin?”
She shrugged and slipped a pair of scissors back into a drawer. “He’s due for a haircut anyway. And it’s summer, so a buzz cut won’t look out of place.”
“Sorry.”
She shrugged again, unfazed. “It’s not the first thing to become stuck in his hair. Sadly, I doubt it will be the last.” She eyed the tray and teased, “That almost looks good enough to eat.”
“Yeah. Cooking is kind of fun.”
“Whoa! Whoa! Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she warned on a laugh. “We haven’t even begun to cook.”
“So, what do you consider
what we’ve been doing?” His voice dropped as he spoke, and he ran a fingertip down the length of her bare arm. “Foreplay?”
“Prep work.” But she shivered.
“Same difference.”
“Really?” There was a ghost of a smile playing on Julia’s lips when she said, “It’s been a while, but I seem to remember foreplay differently.”
That brought him up short. Alec had the feeling he knew exactly how far back that memory stretched.
“Maybe we should compare notes,” he said.
Their gazes locked. Julia moistened her lips. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say that’s a tempting offer.”
“But?”
Children’s laughter drifted into the kitchen from the other room. She offered a lopsided smile. “There’s your answer.”
Alec wanted to resent the intrusion. In the past, he would have. Children have a place and it’s anywhere I’m not. That infamous gaffe had been rooted in truth. But with Julia, the intrusion of her children seemed...right. Nor did it do anything to curtail his interest. He wanted her all the more. Forbidden fruit? He had a feeling it was nothing quite as uncomplicated as that.
“We’d better get back to preparing dinner.”
“Have you been scared off?” She said it lightly.
His reply was blunt. “Not by a long shot.”
“Alec—”
“Dinner.” He nodded toward the stove. He knew enough to recognize that it was electric rather than gas. A large pot was on one of the front burners, steaming rising from its open top. A smaller pan was on the adjacent burner. “So, what now?”
She smoothed the hair away from her face, back to being cool and collected. Her voice was instructional when she said, “You can put the pasta in the water and give the tomato sauce a stir.”
“We’re having spaghetti?”
“I figured it would be quick and easy.”
He smiled. “But I see that you didn’t trust me to bring the water to a boil on my own.”
She shrugged. “I knew you could figure it out. You’re bright.”
“Thanks.”
He was getting ready to put the pasta in when she said, “You have to salt the water first.”
She was standing at his elbow, and he knew the heat he felt wasn’t coming only from the pot. He found himself hoping for laughter to float from the living room. This silence was too potent.
“Here.” She poured salt into the palm of his hand.
After he dropped it into the water, he added the noodles. Then, because it seemed right, he draped his arm around her shoulder. The gesture was casual, friendly. Perfect in the same way the daisies were, on a table set with everyday dishes for four. When Julia looked up at him, his heart began hammering at a ridiculous pace.
Her gaze slid to his hand. “You sure did a job on your knuckles. Let’s go bandage them up. There’s time before the noodles are ready.”
He followed her down the hallway off the kitchen to a full bath. Across from it, he could see into two small bedrooms. Her kids’ rooms, based on the furnishings, which meant hers was the one at the end of the hall. The door was ajar. He could just make out the bottom of the bed. A robe was tossed over the footboard. Nothing fancy. It wasn’t lacy or sheer. Rather, pink terry cloth. He sucked in a breath all the same.
At her questioning gaze he said, “You’re not going to put antiseptic on the scrape, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as Colin.”
Alec sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat while she rooted around in the medicine cabinet, pulling out antiseptic spray and a box of bandages. In short order, she had disinfected and bandaged his wound.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked.
“No. Not bad,” he agreed.
The setting was less than romantic, as was the situation. Neither seemed to matter. At the moment, all that mattered to Alec was that they were alone, in tight quarters, and he wanted Julia in a way that defied both reason and restraint.
“But maybe you should kiss it,” he added.
He had a hold of her hand and tugged ever so slightly. She could have resisted. Instead, after a fleeting glance at the door, she stepped closer, between the V of his legs, and bent down. Their breath mingled, but she stopped before their mouths could meet. She closed her eyes and sighed.
He figured that would be the end of it. That somehow they would both summon up enough self-control to return to the kitchen and resume meal preparation. Julia apparently had other ideas. She cupped his face in both of her hands and brought her mouth down on his. Forget prim girl next door. Forget patient professional. She was greedy, desperate. A bona fide seductress. When he felt her teeth nip his lower lip, he was grateful to be sitting. He would have fallen over otherwise. The kisses they’d shared up till this point had been tame in comparison. Not that Alec had any complaints. Right back at you, he thought, feeling greedy and desperate and—oh, yeah—seduced.
He had the presence of mind to put his foot out and kick the door closed, lest her kids wander down the hall and get an eyeful. Then, his mouth still fused to Julia’s, he worked his way to standing. That changed the angle and gave him the advantage. He deepened the kiss. He might have been able to keep his hands on the relative safety of her waist had she not brought hers around to his chest. Her fingers fiddled with the placket of buttons on his shirt, but she didn’t undo them. For the most part, the apron’s bib was in the way. Still, she was testing her restraint. And his. To see who would buckle first?
She won.
On a groan, he pulled the soft cotton jersey from the waistband of her shorts and slipped his hands under her T-shirt. Her skin was warm and incredibly soft. He wanted access to more of it, all of it. He found the clasp of her bra and worked it free, then cupped her breasts in his hands. When his thumbs brushed over the nipples, Julia’s ragged breathing turned into a moan. His control frayed even more. It might have snapped completely had a shriek not sounded from down the hall.
“Mom!” Danielle screamed. “The water is boiling over.”
They sprung apart. Julia tugged down her blouse and tucked it back in, avoiding eye contact as she did so. Alec scrubbed a hand over his face, grateful to be wearing an apron. When she opened the door, her children were standing there, their eyes round with questions.
“What were you doing in there?” Colin asked.
“Your mom was just bandaging my knuckle. I scraped it up pretty good with the peeler.”
Colin seemed to accept the explanation. “Did she put the spray on it?” He scrunched up his face. “That stuff really stings.”
“She did.”
“I hope you asked her to kiss it afterward.”
“Uh, yeah. I did.” He felt heat creep into his cheeks.
“That makes everything feel better,” Colin said with an authoritative nod.
Not everything, Alec thought. His gaze turned to Danielle. She was older, wiser, shrewder. And, unless he missed his guess, she also was ticked off.
There was no time to contemplate that. The smoke alarm began to wail. All four of them rushed to the kitchen, where the pot containing the pasta was oozing a white froth over the edges and onto the burner. Julia grabbed a pair of potholders and pulled it away, waving frantically to clear the smoke. Colin ran out and returned a moment later with the miniature fans Alec had bought. He switched his on and handed the other one to Danielle. Then they pointed them in the direction of the smoking stovetop.
“I knew I bought those for a reason,” Alec said.
Julia’s laughter bubbled out, competing with the alarm. It was just this side of hysterical.
They wound up ordering a pizza, which they had delivered. Afterward, even though Julia told him he didn’t need to stick around, he sat cross-legged with the kids on the floor and played a couple games of Trouble, which was appropriate, Alec decided, because, he was definitely feeling as if he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for.
* * *
&nbs
p; Amazingly, Julia was sorry to see the evening end, even if parts of it had been awkward, others erotic, and all of it had left her questioning her sanity. She walked Alec to the door just after nine, surprised that he’d stayed so long. She’d certainly given him reasons to leave at the earliest opportunity. In addition to Colin’s fan-in-the-hair high jinks and the near fire that had spoiled their bathroom interlude, Danielle had eyed him stonily all through their meal and then sulked the rest of the evening.
“Dinner didn’t go quite how I planned,” Julia admitted with a shake of her head. She forced her tone to remain light and focused on the meal. “But consider it a lesson for Saturday. Never leave a boiling pot unattended.”
“Good advice.” Alec jingled his car keys in his hand. His gaze was focused on her mouth. “I’d like to kiss you good-night, but I won’t.”
Something had to be said. She wouldn’t bother pretending that the old boundaries needed to be restored. They’d pushed too far beyond those now to go back, even if she wanted to. That meant new ones had to be determined, discussed. Above all, sanity—hers—had to be restored. She glanced behind her and lowered her voice. “Um, about what happened in the bathroom—”
He cut off her words by laying a finger against her lips.
“Let’s leave that for another time.” He smiled, turned. She thought she heard him whistling as he bounded down the steps. Then he was gone and she was left to face the firing squad.
Sure enough, in the living room, Danielle was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, lips twisted in a scowl.
Uh-oh.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Julia asked, even though she was sure she knew.
“Did you kiss him good-night?” her daughter demanded.
“No.”
“But you wanted to.”
From the time they could talk, Julia had drummed into her kids the importance of being forthright. So, as much as she would have liked to avoid the subject, she couldn’t without being a hypocrite.
She replied honestly, “Yes, I did.”
Her daughter’s face crumpled. Danielle wasn’t mad now. She looked lost, betrayed. Julia’s uh-oh became oh, no!
“Well, I like him,” Colin said, unaware of his sister’s misery. “You can kiss him all you want, Mom.”