by Cindy Kirk
A date? All she’d done was offer to drive him for pizza. Because they were hungry. Not because she wanted to get to know him better like you would if you were…dating…someone.
Rachel opened her mouth, then shut it. There was no point in getting hung up on semantics. They both knew it wasn’t a date. After all, if the guy once voted “The Sexiest Player in the Major Leagues” was going to jump back into the dating game after his engagement scandal, it wouldn’t be with her.
Chapter Two
Even though it was only five o’clock, Perfect Pizza was surprisingly busy. But Derek quickly located an empty table in the center of the small dining area.
He pulled out chairs for Mickie and Rachel, then took a seat opposite the two. After he was sure they were settled in, he snagged menus from the holder on the table and handed them each one. “What kind of pizza do you like?”
Mickie didn’t even look at the menu in her hand. “Whatever you want is okay with me.”
He’d noticed the child had done that a lot on the drive from the gym, refusing to offer an opinion, waiting to answer as if wanting to make sure her response was right. She was an odd bundle of energy and insecurity.
Derek fought the impulse to tease and lost. He’d grown up with a younger sister and Mickie reminded him of Sarah.
“How about anchovies, cream cheese and pineapple?” It was all Derek could do to keep a straight face at the look of horror that stole over the young girl’s face.
“I think we’ll pass on that combination.” A tiny smile lifted the corners of Rachel’s lips. She glanced at the menu and scooted closer to Mickie. “We can negotiate on the pineapple and cream cheese, but anchovies are definitely out. Right, Mickie?”
The child cast a look at Derek. What she saw must have reassured her because she nodded decisively and swiped the air with one hand. “Anchovies aaaaare out.”
She sounded so much like an umpire that Derek had to laugh. After some friendly banter, they decided on a hamburger pizza with extra cheese. Rachel wanted him to stay at the table and rest, but he insisted on going to the counter to order.
While waiting in line, he glanced back at the table. Mickie was chattering on about something and Rachel gave the child her full attention. There was a look in the nurse’s eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. Sadness, yes. But also a longing that took his breath away.
This was a woman who obviously loved children. While her husband’s death must have temporarily put an end to the dream of children of her own, he had no doubt kids were in her future. She was pretty and smart and personable. He was surprised she hadn’t already remarried and started a family. Of course, wearing a wedding ring probably kept the decent men away.
Derek wondered if she’d consider him a decent guy. He certainly did his best to treat every woman with respect. That wasn’t always the norm in today’s society. Lots of men out there had no scruples. Lots of women, too. An image of his former fiancée flashed before him. He clenched his jaw and focused on the menu board.
After ordering, Derek returned to the table with a pitcher of soda and three glasses filled with ice. “They’ll bring out the pizza when it’s ready.”
In less than fifteen minutes a large golden brown pie oozing cheese appeared. After wolfing down three big pieces, Mickie spotted an old pinball machine in an alcove just off the dining room. Her eyes lit up. She smiled, showing a mouthful of big teeth.
“Want to check it out?” Derek asked.
The girl’s smile faded. She lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “I don’t know how to play.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll show you.”
After several pointers on how to best keep the silver ball in play, Derek gave her a handful of quarters and returned to the table. “She’s a natural.”
They chatted for a minute or two about Mickie and pinball machines before the conversation petered out. Rachel put down her second slice of pizza and sought for a comment to fill the lengthening silence. It had been easy to make conversation while Mickie was at the table, but now…
“Did you hear we have a seventy-percent chance of snow tomorrow?” Rachel asked.
Derek groaned out loud. “Please, no more about the weather or the bump on my head. We’ve talked those topics to death.”
He was probably right. Perhaps she’d tried a little too hard to keep the conversation general. But when those brilliant blue eyes focused on her as if no one else in the world existed but the two of them, she felt as unsure as a fifteen-year-old on her first date.
Rachel placed her glass of soda on the wooden table with an unsteady hand. The man across from her had been to movie premieres. Partied with the beautiful people. And, according to the media, walked away from three engagements.
She glanced longingly at the door, wondering how she’d ever thought this was a good idea. Right now she could be at home in her PJs playing Scrabble with Mickie. Oh, Derek was nice. But she didn’t like how he made her feel, all jittery and unsettled inside. “I’m a little nervous.”
Derek lowered the glass he’d raised to his lips without drinking and Rachel wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
Disappointment filled his baby blues. “Which tabloids have you read?”
Rachel realized immediately that he’d misunderstood her comment. But the last thing she wanted was to discuss his troubles or her attraction to him. So instead, Rachel focused on the Derek Rossi she’d followed in the sports pages for almost a decade. “This will probably surprise you, but you and I go way back. I remember watching you pitch a no-hitter in the college world series. You were amazing. I followed your career after you were drafted by the Angels. Now it seems like every time I watch a sportscast, there you are with a microphone and an expert opinion.”
His lips curved upward and Rachel, who’d planned to say even more, clamped her mouth shut. Dear God, what must he think? She’d been gushing like an out-of-control fan-girl.
“What have you heard recently?” he asked.
“I haven’t been following your exploits in the tabloids,” Rachel said. “If that’s what you’re asking.”
“Still, I’m sure you’ve heard all about Niki and me.”
She’d have had to be living in a cave not to have heard the news of his broken engagement to the young actress he’d been planning to marry last month, just before Thanksgiving.
She’d been disappointed that he would make such an important commitment, then walk away. Not just once, but three times. Still, it wasn’t her place to judge. And she firmly believed it was better to walk away than say your vows to the wrong person. “Who you choose to marry, or not, is your own business.”
The tiny lines of strain around Derek’s eyes eased at her matter-of-fact tone. “No questions? No, how could you break it off only two weeks before the wedding?”
Would he tell her the truth if she asked? Rachel tamped down her curiosity. “Not my business. I’m sure you had your reasons.”
“Thank you.”
“But I am curious about one thing.”
A resigned look crossed his face. “What’s that?”
“How long do you plan to stay in Jackson Hole?”
A look of surprise skittered across his face. “That’s the question?”
Rachel smiled.
“Not quite a month.” Derek leaned back in his chair. “My buddy gave me the use of his vacation home just outside of Wilson until New Year’s. Then I’ll head back to L.A.”
“Is that home?”
“For now.” He took a sip of soda. “I’m originally from Minnesota. Most of my family still lives there.”
Rachel relaxed against the back of her chair, enjoying the conversation. “I’m surprised you’re not spending Christmas with them.”
“If I’d married Niki, we’d still be on our honeymoon.” His eyes took on a faraway look. Then he blinked and the moment was gone. “My sister and her family are spending the holidays with my brother-in-law’s side of the family. M
y mother and Jim, her ‘man-friend,’ are in Florida visiting my aunt and uncle.”
“I don’t understand how you ended up in Wyoming.”
“Great place to stay. Lots of good skiing. Best of all, no paparazzi.” Derek grinned. “Feels like paradise to me.”
Rachel picked up her half-eaten piece of pizza and took another bite, suddenly hungry.
“I’ve a question for you,” he said.
Rachel forced the chunk of pizza past a sudden thickness in her throat. “Ask away.”
“I’ve thought about doing foster care, but my schedule seems too chaotic to give a child the stability he or she needs.” His eyes were bright with curiosity. “How do you make it work?”
Rachel leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. Here was a topic she could discuss for hours. “I’ve had my license for a couple years. While a full-time placement wouldn’t work with my schedule, I’ve done quite a bit of emergency foster care.”
Although his eyes remained focused on her, he trailed a finger down the side of his glass. “Tell me more about that.”
Rachel’s mouth went dry. She swallowed, her heart fluttering in her throat. “An emergency placement can last anywhere from twenty-four hours to a month. Most kids I have for a day or two.”
“How long will Mickie be with you?”
“Through the end of the month.” Rachel shifted her gaze and let it linger on Mickie. Fingers on the side buttons, brows furrowed in concentration, her entire attention was on the game. It was typical Mickie. Her determined nature was only one of her many good qualities. Although the child hadn’t even been under Rachel’s roof a week, she’d already stolen her heart.
“Looks like she’s made some friends.”
Derek was right. The little girl had several new “friends” peering over her shoulders, watching her make the bells ding.
“Mickie is very social.”
Derek could hear the pride in Rachel’s voice. “What do you know about her history?”
Rachel thought for a moment. “I know her parents died in a car accident when she was five. After that she was sent to live with an aunt and uncle and four cousins. Several years later they divorced and relinquished Mickie, saying neither of them could afford to keep her.”
Rachel’s voice quivered. It had been hard losing her own parents when she’d been in college. But at least they’d been there while she was growing up and she had all those wonderful memories. Mickie had confided she barely remembered hers. And then to be turned out by the only family she had left…
Derek’s eyes remained firmly fixed on her face. “What happened then?”
“Up until recently she’s been living with a retired couple. Unfortunately their daughter has a chronic health condition that has worsened. They left for Arizona to be with her. According to the social worker they aren’t planning to come back.”
Rachel placed her glass of soda on the table and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She’d had men stare at her before, but when Derek gave her his full attention, it was overwhelming.
“What’s going to happen to her once she leaves your place?” Derek asked, sounding truly concerned.
“The social worker told me they hope to have another home for her after the first of the year. If that doesn’t pan out, she’ll live in a group setting until one opens up.”
Most people got a glazed look in their eyes when she talked about her foster kids. Not Derek. “I still don’t understand how you can watch her and work full-time.”
“I’m not working while she’s with me,” Rachel explained. “I had enough hours built up to take off the rest of the year.”
His head cocked to one side. “You’re taking vacation time to watch her?”
He made it sound as if she was making a big sacrifice when nothing could be farther from the truth.
“I don’t have family here. My friends are understandably busy during the holidays with their husbands and children.” Rachel lifted a shoulder in what she hoped was a casual shrug. “I find this time of year goes better for me if I keep busy. I love children, so having Mickie with me is the best way I can think of to spend my vacation. Trust me, it’s a win-win situation for both of us.”
Her eyes were clear and blue, her tone sincere. Even more revealing, she acted as if what she’d done was no big deal. Derek found himself not only impressed, but intrigued. Here was a woman he’d like to know better.
But he’d sworn off dating for the next six months. And no matter how lovely the woman, or how tempted he was to ask her out, there was no way he was breaking that pledge.
Chapter Three
Derek pulled the Escalade to the curb in front of a white clapboard house with green awnings. He turned off the engine. Although the sun had already gone down, and the moon wasn’t particularly bright, the streetlight gave him a good view of the place. The home sat on a corner lot with big trees and a wide expanse of grass now covered with a thick blanket of snow. Lace curtains hung in front of the window and he could see people walking around inside, talking and laughing.
He turned off the engine but made no move to get out of the vehicle. Derek wasn’t sure why he was here other than he was tired of his own company. After Rachel had dropped him off last Saturday night, he’d been mostly hanging out with, well, himself.
For several days he’d laid low, resting and keeping ice on the bump that had stuck out like a goose egg from his left temple. When she’d said goodbye, Rachel had handed him her phone number and told him to call if he had any questions. He’d reciprocated and given her his number. But she hadn’t called. Neither had he.
Although he’d kept his phone close all weekend, Derek told himself he was relieved she hadn’t contacted him. Not because he didn’t like her, but because he did. Any other time he’d have asked her out on the spot. But this wasn’t any other time. He’d just gotten out of a relationship that had taken him to the mat emotionally.
On his way to Jackson Hole he’d decided to take the next six months off from dating. He’d use the time to regroup, assess where he’d gone wrong and come up with a game plan for the future. That needed to be done before he jumped back into the dating pool.
Derek shoved the truck door open and stepped outside. That was why tonight was so perfect. Travis Fisher, a local he’d met while skiing at Jackson Hole today, had invited him to watch some college football bowl action with a group of his buddies. Travis had warned Derek that most of the guys were family men, so there’d be wives and kids present.
That didn’t bother Derek. He was ready to get out of the house, but wasn’t interested in hooking up. Football on the big screen, a couple of beers with the guys was all he was looking for this evening.
“Hey, Rach, could you get the appetizers out of the oven for me?” Mary Karen Vaughn appeared slightly frazzled as she grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard.
“Absolutely,” Rachel said in a cheerful tone, eager to be of help, happy she’d accepted Mary Karen’s invitation. She’d been so busy lately that she hadn’t seen much of her friends.
There had been a few awkward moments initially. Like when Lexi Delacorte had asked if Derek Rossi was really as hot in person as he was on the television screen. The gleam in those amber eyes told Rachel her friend hoped the brief encounter with the sexy former baseball player had made her forget Tom. What Lexi didn’t understand was that Rachel would never, could never, forget her husband.
The shy geologist she’d married just out of college may have been burly and taciturn on the outside, but he’d been sweet and sensitive inside. Her gentle giant. He’d been a fabulous husband. She had no doubt he’d have made a wonderful father…
A familiar pain stabbed her heart. No, it would be nearly impossible to find a man as good as Tom, which was why she hadn’t even tried.
At least this holiday season she wouldn’t need to worry about well-meaning friends trying to set her up. Normally, several times over Christmas there was someone’s friend
, cousin, uncle, coworker who was just dying to meet her.
This year all she had to concern herself with was making this the best Christmas ever for Mickie. Rachel’s lips curved upward as she shut off the oven alarm, put on the bulky mitt and pulled out a baking sheet filled with the tiny almond-bacon cheese crostini she’d whipped up that morning. Reveling in the warmth against her face, Rachel inhaled the delicious aromas now flooding the kitchen.
“I should have made sure there wasn’t a single college bowl game on television before I set the date for this party,” Mary Karen grumbled and slanted a glance at the men congregated in her living room.
“I like football.” July Wahl added Fritos to an empty bowl and handed it to Mary Karen’s five-year-old son, Connor. “But I don’t really care who wins the Rotten Apple Bowl or whatever it is that’s on TV tonight.”
Rachel laughed. Mary Karen had thought her party was safe with a second-tier bowl on the tube. She’d quickly discovered otherwise.
“It could be called the Prune Bowl and my husband’s eyes would still be glued to the screen.” With dark hair that stopped just short of being black and amber eyes the color of topaz, Lexi Delacorte was the most beautiful of Rachel’s friends. And the hospital social worker was as lovely on the inside as she was on the outside. “My Nick is a football fanatic.”
A possessive pride filled Lexi’s voice.
“I still can’t believe you fell in love with a man who didn’t know his own name.” Mary Karen handed July a sheet of cheese sticks to put in the oven.
“I didn’t need to know his name or that he loved football to recognize he was someone special.” Lexi’s eyes turned dreamy. “Or to fall hard for him.”
“Two weddings in less than a year.” July closed the oven door and straightened. Her speculative gaze settled on Mary Karen and Rachel. “You realize good things come in threes. That means one of you is next.”