Mom In The Making

by Carla Cassidy

  A couple of hours? Bonnie felt the bulky folder and her heart sank. She would be lucky to have all these typed up in a couple of months.

  After finishing the filing, Bonnie went back into the storage room. Seating herself at the desk, she stared at the typewriter in front of her. The information on the forms was handwritten and all she had to do was type it onto another form. “Piece of cake,” she muttered, rolling one of the forms into the typewriter.

  It was several hours later when Bonnie took a break, pausing a moment to rub first her eyes, then the back of her neck. The trash basket next to the desk was filled with forms she’d mistyped, but she had ten perfect ones in a new folder. At this rate, it wouldn’t take months to complete the work, but it would take weeks.

  She rolled a new form into the typewriter and began her hunt-and-peck work.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you typed slow.”

  Bonnie looked up sheepishly at the sound of Brenda Jo’s voice.

  “As I said, Beau told me there wouldn’t be very much typing. I figured I could fake it.” Bonnie stood up, heart heavy as she reached for her purse. A couple of hours on the job and she was about to be fired.

  Brenda Jo grinned. “Hell, I’ve faked worse things than my typing skills. I just came in to tell you it’s past time for your lunch break. You get an hour.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s one-thirty now. Be back by two-thirty.”

  “You mean I’m not fired?” Bonnie looked at her incredulously.

  “Nah. Who else could I hire in this one-horse town who can tell me about Paris? Now, go get some lunch and be back on time.”

  Bonnie hardly wasted a moment leaving the police station. Once on the sidewalk, she hesitated, unsure what to do about food. With an hour to spare, she could walk back to Caro’s and eat there, but the sun was warm, the day too gorgeous to spend cooped up in a house. Instead she opted for buying a sandwich at the nearby café and eating it on the park bench in front of the station.

  Minutes later, armed with a tuna-salad sandwich, chips and a soda, Bonnie relaxed on the bench and ate her lunch while watching the afternoon shoppers drifting in and out of the stores.

  She had to admit, Casey’s Corners had a certain charm. Trees lined the street, lending welcome shade to the sidewalks. The pace was slower, and people took time to stop and visit before going on their way. Caro’s letters had been filled with praise for the little town she now called home. She’d written about the warmth of the people, the feeling of belonging she’d gained in living here. Someday Bonnie wanted to feel that sense of belonging.

  Finishing her lunch, she gathered her trash and disposed of it in a receptacle close by. She checked her watch, then sat back down, realizing she had a good thirty minutes before she had to be back at work.

  She sat up straighter as she saw Russ in the distance, walking toward her. The sunshine played on his dark hair, making the auburn highlights look fiery. She couldn’t help but notice how fine he appeared in his uniform, his shoulders straight with pride and his strides long and self-assured. Drat the man anyway, she thought, unsure what exactly it was about him that so irritated her.

  She knew the moment he saw her. His eyes widened, then a lazy smirk of amusement lifted the corners of his mouth and deepened the cleft in his chin.

  “Come to pay those speeding tickets, Princess?”

  “Must you call me that?”

  He shrugged and sank down on the bench next to her. “Consider it my pet name for you.”

  Bonnie frowned. Most pet names were said affectionately, but when Russ called her ‘Princess,’ it always sounded sarcastic and uncomplimentary. “So, what are you doing here?” he asked curiously.

  She smiled. “I’m on my lunch break.”

  The pupils of his eyes flared in surprise. “You have a job?”

  “Started this morning.”

  “Where? At the café?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “At the drugstore?”

  Again she shook her head.

  “You might say we’re co-workers.” She grinned impishly at his look of disbelief.

  “You’re kidding. What kind of work are you doing?”

  “Filing, answering phones, typing.” She waved her hands airily. “The usual office kind of work.”

  “You know how to type?”

  His look of utter disbelief only fed her irritation. “Of course I know how to type.” She raised an eyebrow arrogantly. “I might have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I had to learn to polish it myself.”

  Russ stared at her for a long moment, then laughed. Again Bonnie felt warmth flare in the pit of her stomach at the pleasant sound of his laughter. Why did he have the kind of laughter that made her want to join in? And why did it always seem to be at her expense?

  “I guess you got all settled into the new place?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It’s great. You’ll have to come over, see the place and meet Daniel.”

  This time it was her turn to look at him in surprise. “I... I’d like that,” she said, confused because it was true.

  “Oops, I’ve got to get inside. I’m already late.” He stood up and eyed her expectantly. “You coming?”

  She shook her head. “I still have fifteen minutes of my lunch hour left. I’ll just sit here and enjoy the sunshine.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the building.

  Russ stared at her for a long moment, then turned and went inside, her sun-kissed vision still painted in his mind. Damn, what had ever possessed him to invite her to his home? And why on earth would he want her to meet Daniel?

  “Hey, Brenda Jo,” he greeted as he walked in the door. “I hear Beau finally hired you some help.”

  Brenda Jo nodded. “Bonnie. Gonna be nice to have another female around here.”

  Russ sat down at his desk across the room and grinned. “Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t get too used to having her around.”

  “Why is that?”

  “From what I’ve heard about Bonnie Baker, she’ll get bored pretty quickly and move on. She’s not a long-haul kind of woman.”

  Brenda Jo shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll just enjoy her company while she’s here.” Brenda Jo grinned. “Did you know she got arrested in Paris for swimming in a fountain?”

  An instant vision of Bonnie naked and frolicking in a fountain exploded in Russ’s mind. Sparkling drops of water clung to her bronzed skin, taunting him, tormenting him. He shook his head to dislodge the vision. “Nothing Bonnie Baker has done would surprise me,” he finally said.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a phone call—a report of a break-in at a farmhouse ten miles out of town. Russ grabbed the patrol car keys and started out the door, bumping into Bonnie as she came inside.

  “Off to arrest unsuspecting speeders?” she asked.

  Russ scowled, refusing to feel guilty about ticketing her. “I’d better not ever have to arrest you for skinny-dipping in a fountain in this town.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, then she grinned, that slightly naughty, impish smile that caused his blood to heat.

  “Okay, I promise not to go skinny-dipping in any fountains.” Her smile deepened. “But I can’t make that same promise about local ponds.”

  Russ felt his scowl increase as Brenda Jo laughed, and again an image of a wet, naked Bonnie erupted in his brain. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Go get ’em, Dirty Harry,” Bonnie said.

  With the scowl still biting his forehead, he left the building. He got in the car, started the engine and turned the air conditioning on high, waiting a moment for the blowing air to cool.

  Physical attraction, that’s all it is, he assured himself. There was no denying Bonnie was sexually magnetic. But he had absolutely no desire to get involved with her. He shook his head with a smile. Unless involvement consisted of a couple of hours beneath a sheet.

  He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb,
his thoughts still on the physical delights of Bonnie. Unfortunately, when he’d found himself a single father he’d sworn to himself there wouldn’t be a parade of women through his life and Daniel’s.

  Despite his attraction to Ms. Baker, he knew she was not the kind of woman he’d want to marry and so there was no way he’d follow through on it. He wanted a wife, somebody he could share his life with, somebody who would be a partner in raising Daniel. He didn’t need a short-term lust affair.

  Daniel. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as his thoughts turned to his son. Since arriving on Saturday, Daniel had been sullen, and Russ was at a loss on how to break through the child’s moodiness. One minute he was angry and filled with rage; the next he was in tears.

  Damn Anne and her need for freedom. It was forgivable that she hadn’t wanted to be married to him any longer. It was unforgivable that she no longer wanted to parent their child. He had a feeling bis ex-wife and Bonnie had a lot in common. Although Anne had not been wealthy, she’d been spoiled by doting parents. Whenever trouble had cropped up in their marriage, she’d run home. It had always been easier for her to flee than to stick around and solve problems. Russ had a feeling Bonnie was the same. When things got tough and weren’t fun anymore, she’d hop on a plane and fly off to another area to play. Definitely not long-term-relationship material, and Russ wasn’t interested in anything but long-term. When it came to women, he was definitely a traditional, uptight, briefs kind of guy. He knew exactly what he wanted in a wife, and Bonnie Baker wasn’t it.

  As he pulled up in front of the farmhouse, he shoved away all personal thoughts, mentally readying himself for the police work ahead.

  It was after eleven that night when Russ finally got back to the station. For a change, it had been an exhausting day. The heavy, humid August heat made tempers flare, sane people crazy and the crime rate rise.

  He walked into the station, as always surprised at the peace and quiet that night brought. In Chicago the station house had always been bright and frantic, no matter what the time. But here the lights were dimmed, the phone silent, and David, the man on duty, sat at his desk drinking a cup of coffee. He raised a hand in greeting to Russ, then returned his attention to his newspaper.

  Russ stifled a yawn and dropped his daily reports on his desk, then headed for the storage room to grab some extra forms for the next day. He stopped in the doorway, shocked to see Bonnie seated at the desk, her head cradled on her folded arms, resting on the typewriter. He could hear her breaths coming slow and regular and knew she was deeply asleep.

  Why hadn’t she gone home? What was she doing here so late? The answer was obvious as he looked down. Crumpled forms littered the floor and overflowed the trash can. He smiled. Apparently the princess typist didn’t type as well as she talked.

  He leaned against the doorjamb, taking a moment to study her while she was quiet, vulnerable, unguarded. Her lashes were long and dark, casting shadows on her smooth, tanned cheeks. Without the energy and spunkiness she normally radiated, she seemed softer, more approachable.

  His eyes narrowed as he scanned the length of her. What was it about her that caused his blood to thicken? Made him think erotic thoughts completely out of character for him? She didn’t have the build of a sex siren—her breasts were too small, her hips too slender. She had a smart mouth, a wicked grin and an irreverence for all he held dear. So why did he want her?

  “Bonnie?” He touched her shoulder gently. She didn’t move, didn’t stir at all. He shook her shoulder more forcefully. “Bonnie, wake up. You need to go home.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Her gaze was dazed, disoriented. “Sam?” She sat up, the bewildered expression fading as consciousness claimed her. “Oh, wow.” She rubbed her eyes, then looked at Russ. “What time is it?”

  “After eleven.” He leaned back against the doorjamb, watching as she reached to massage the back of her neck.

  “Shoot, I was hoping to surprise Brenda Jo in the morning and have all these forms typed up.” She stared at the stack still remaining.

  “Come on, you can finish up tomorrow. It’s late.”

  “You’re right. I’m too tired to think anymore.” She grabbed her purse and stood up, and together they said good-night to Dave and walked out into the sweet-smelling night air.

  “I’ll go with you,” Russ said, not wanting her on the streets alone at night.

  She pursed her lips, about to protest. Instead she swallowed. “I’d appreciate it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “No argument? You must be tired.”

  “Just fighting the aftermath of a dream,” she replied as they started down the sidewalk.

  “About your brother?” he ventured, and she looked at him sharply. “You said his name when I first woke you up,” he explained.

  “What do you know about Sam?” she asked, her tone guarded.

  “I know he’s a suspect in your father’s murder case. I know Carolyn believes he’s innocent and in danger. Beau is conducting an unofficial investigation and trying to find him.”

  “Then you know pretty much what I know.”

  “So, what did you dream about?” As they passed beneath the glow of a street lamp, he saw the frown that creased her brow, and no trace of her usual bravado.

  Despite the heat of the night, she wrapped her arms around herself, as if escaping the waltzing fingers of a shiver up her spine. “I’ve had the same dream almost every night since arriving here. Sam is running down a highway, and he keeps shouting back at me, trying to warn me about something, but I can’t hear him. I can’t understand him and I wake up scared for me... scared for him.”

  She squeezed her shoulders a final time, then allowed her arms to drop back at her sides. “It’s no big deal. Caro told me Sam was seen walking down the highway outside of Casey’s Corners. I’m sure that information is what makes me dream about it.” She gazed up at Russ, a devilish spark in her eyes. “So, Caped Crusader, did you catch all the bad guys today?”

  Any other time her mocking tone would have irritated him, but he recognized it for what it was—a place to hide the fear her dream had left behind. His sudden insight made her seem softer, more vulnerable. “I managed to keep the streets safe for the time being.” He was sorry to realize they were in front of Carolyn and Beau’s house.

  “I think I can make it the rest of the way on my own,” she said. “Thanks for escorting me.” She turned to walk up the sidewalk to the front door.

  Before she had gone two steps, Russ stopped her by quietly calling her name. She turned back to him, her eyes luminous in the moonlight, her mouth soft and warm looking. He hadn’t known why he’d called her back until that moment. Then he understood. He wanted to kiss her, taste those sweet, sexy lips just once. And he could tell by the look in her eyes she realized exactly why he’d stopped her, exactly what he wanted.

  She didn’t resist when he pulled her into his arms. He knew it was madness, knew it was probably the dumbest thing he would ever do. But her scent whirled around him, banishing good sense, and her lips parted, inviting him into insanity. He lowered his mouth, wanting to claim hers, but just before their lips could touch, she raised a hand to block the kiss.

  “No,” she said softly, her eyes gleaming wickedly. “You want to be kissed way too badly for me to comply.”

  Before he could respond, she danced out of his arms and up the sidewalk. When she reached the front door she waved and blew him a kiss.

  Despite his frustration, despite the utter aggravation, Russ laughed. He couldn’t help it. She’d used his own words against him. She’d bested him, and he knew it, accepted it.

  As he turned to walk home, he stopped laughing abruptly. He liked her, and at the moment the feelings rushing through him had little to do with physical desire. She made him laugh and he liked her. That scared the hell out of him.

  Chapter Five

  “What are your plans for today?” Carolyn asked Bonnie as she fed the twins their breakfast.<
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  “I don’t know. I’m almost sorry it’s Saturday and I don’t have to go to work.” Bonnie grinned as Brent smeared pancake syrup through his hair. “Do you always have to give them baths after they eat?”

  “Always.” Carolyn laughed, then sobered and looked at Bonnie affectionately. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”

  Warmth blossomed in Bonnie’s heart at her sister’s words. How many years had she longed to hear somebody say that to her? It made her feel better than any shopping spree, warmer than drinking a dozen bottles of champagne. “I like working,” she answered simply. “And my typing is getting better and better.”

  “I think it’s wonderful that you’re finally taking control of your life.” Carolyn set the boys’ plates in the sink. “Okay, guys, bath time.” She got each of the kids out of their high chairs. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “No hurry. I’m going to have another cup of coffee.” When Carolyn and the kids left the kitchen, Bonnie got up and poured herself more coffee, then returned to the table.

  Sounds of little boys giggling and Carolyn’s loving murmurs came from the direction of the bathroom. Family sounds. Happy sounds. Helmut hadn’t wanted children—in fact had abhorred children—and that was part of what had made Bonnie run from marrying him.

  She wanted a family, a big family. She wanted to be the kind of mother she’d never had; wanted a house full of laughter and love. It’s wonderful that you’re finally taking control of your life. Bonnie sipped her coffee, thinking of her sister’s words. Was that what she was doing?

  After a week of working at the station, she had to admit she liked it. Brenda Jo had become a good friend and Beau was a wonderful boss. But how long would it be before that old restlessness struck her, before the core of loneliness that was always with her forced her to move on, seeking whatever it was that drove her, whatever it was she needed?

  She sipped from her mug, her thoughts turning to Russ. Since the night he had walked her home, she’d hardly seen him. It was as if he’d spent the remainder of the week consciously avoiding her. At first she’d wondered if she’d made him mad by not kissing him. But he hadn’t acted mad...just distant.