Hearts Are Wild

by Synithia Williams

  Dean had been stepping over the threshold when she said this and he stopped and looked down at her. Her face heated, partly from embarrassment and partly from the intense way he was looking at her. It was like he already knew what she’d look like without her clothes . . . and he liked what he saw.

  “Sorry, that came out all wrong. The boys have decided to boycott clothing today. I’m not sure what the game is.” Shannon put as much distance between them as possible, ignoring the way certain parts of her body felt as though they were waking up from a long sleep.

  “Sounds fun.” His voice was a sexy purr.

  “Come on into the kitchen.” She fought the urge to fan herself with her hand. “I’d love a little non-pre-K conversation.”

  Shannon headed across the hall and tried not to picture Dean checking out her butt as he followed behind. Geez! Head out of the gutter, Fitzgerald! Of course he’s not checking out your butt. She chanced a peek over her shoulder to reassure herself. He was! She almost stumbled over her own feet.

  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Dean pulled out a chair at the dining room table in the breakfast nook and prepared to sit down.

  “No! Mr. Dean, stop!” Brenna ran up to him, shaking her head, her eyes as wide as saucers. “You almost sat on Rosie.” She pulled out a different chair and motioned for him to sit in that one instead.

  Shannon stifled a grin, first at the apologetic look on Dean’s face and then as that look turned to confusion. He shook his head as he studied the chair he nearly sat in. He glanced from the chair to the little girl and back again.

  “I think Rosie must have jumped out when she saw me coming.”

  “She’s still there. You scared her.” Rust red pigtails swung jauntily as the five-year-old jutted out her chin and put her hands on her hips.

  Uh oh! Shannon knew that stance. Her bored little girl was looking for an argument. For a split second she considered waiting it out, seeing how Dean would handle himself in an argument to prove the existence of an imaginary person. Nah. She was bored, too, and if she let Brenna spout off, Dean would probably go running back to his self-imposed isolation.

  “Hey, baby, why don’t you go round up your brothers and tell them we’re doing something special for lunch.” Shannon dropped a kiss on her daughter’s head as she skipped toward the doorway. “And make sure they are at least wearing underwear!”

  “This is a bad time. I didn’t mean to barge in when you were fixing lunch.” Dean’s gaze went past Shannon, scanning the kitchen counter. Perhaps looking for a hint as to what was to be served?

  “Yes. Yes, you did. And I’m glad you came.” Shannon wasn’t trying to tease. She really was happy he’d stopped by . . . no matter the reason.

  Dean’s attention had returned to the wooden chair he had almost sat in. He scratched his head, opened his mouth like he was going to speak, and then shut it again. Shannon checked to make sure Brenna was off on her chore and then strode to the supposedly occupied chair and planted herself in it. She kept all traces of humor from her face while she looked up at Dean.

  “I’m really missing something here, aren’t I?” Dean wrinkled up his nose. “She doesn’t have a pet bug or something, does she?”

  Now she could no longer hold it in. Shannon burst out laughing.

  “No, silly.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Rosie is her imaginary friend.” She lowered her voice. “She’s new around here. We’re all still getting used to her.”

  Impulsively, she reached out and patted Dean’s hand. He didn’t snatch it away, though she wondered how much willpower it took for him to remain still. Their eyes met and just as quickly they both chose something different to focus their attention on. Shannon cleared her throat and got up from the table.

  “It’s been a miserable few days, huh?” She busied herself getting lunch fixings out of the fridge.

  “Yeah, miserable.” Dean’s voice was gruff. Was he talking about the weather, like she had been, or something else?

  “I thought we could have a picnic . . . on the living room floor. What do you think?”

  “Eat on the floor?”

  “No, we’ll eat on our picnic blanket. We’re missing out on some prime picnic weather with the rain as steady as it’s been.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been on a picnic.” He appeared deep in thought. “And I don’t think I have ever had an indoor picnic before.”

  “Aren’t you glad you came over, then?”

  • • •

  Dean’s idea had been successful . . . just not in the way he had figured. He sat awkwardly, a paper plate perched precariously on his crossed legs. On either side of him sat a carrot topped little boy. One wore only underwear and a superhero cape. The other wore swim trunks and a cowboy vest. Had he dressed so foolishly when he was that age? Doubtful.

  Shannon leaned over and spooned more potato salad onto his plate. Dean looked down in surprise.

  “Omigosh, I’m so sorry. I’d probably be in your face, cutting your meat if we were eating dinner at the table. Guess I’m in mommy-mode 24/7.” She scooted back over to her corner of the picnic blanket and began to nibble on a carrot stick. Dean liked how her cheeks bloomed bright pink and how the blush crept down her neck.

  “It’s fine. I was just going to ask for seconds anyway.”

  “Mr. Dean, do you have any kids?” One of the boys, he couldn’t remember who was who, placed a sticky palm on Dean’s khakis and cocked his head to the side, waiting for an answer.

  “No!” Dean blinked. He hadn’t meant for it to come out quite so emphatically. “I don’t have any children. People have children when they’re married. I’m not married, so . . . no children.” Did he sound as defensive as he thought? He snuck a look at Shannon and nearly groaned when he realized how intently she was following his answer.

  “Mommy’s not married and she has kids. Three of us. Triplets.” Now the other little boy had chimed in. Thankfully, this one kept his messy hands to himself.

  “But once upon a time, your mommy used to be married, right?” Dean bit his tongue, realizing, too late, that he knew nothing about Shannon’s past and had no right to make any assumptions. He winced, wishing he could take back his words.

  “Of course,” she coughed out. She pounded a small fist against her sternum like she had gotten something caught in her throat. Ah, yes . . . touchy subject. Fine by him. Relationships were the last thing he wanted to discuss.

  They finished up their picnic with very little conversational input from the adults. Brenna put on an impromptu puppet show with the raspberries she’d stuck to the tops of her fingers. The boys held a mock sword fight with fried chicken drumsticks. Dean waited for Shannon to intervene and was mildly surprised when she only laughed at their antics. When the triplets were done eating, everyone helped to clean up the mess and carry it into the kitchen to either throw away or wash.

  “That would not be acceptable behavior in a restaurant.” Shannon threw the words out over her shoulder as she stood at the sink. The kids had wandered out of the room so she must have been speaking to him. “But I find that if I give them the opportunity to be silly at the occasional mealtime, then they’re pretty well behaved on the whole.”

  “It must be so hard to raise all three by yourself. Do you have any help at all?” Dean carried the empty potato salad bowl to the sink and plunged it into the sudsy water Shannon had filled it with.

  “My mom comes out a few times a year, stays for a couple of weeks. But she’s got her own life. She’s so busy.” She smiled up at him.

  “Man, if I had kids I’d definitely need backup.” Dean grabbed the dishtowel and intercepted a plate before Shannon could set it in the rack to air dry.

  “What are you doing? Go sit down. I can do this.” Her hands fluttered as she tried to grab the plate back.

  “You fed me lunch. The least I can do is help clean up the dishes.” He held up a hand when he saw she was about to argue with him. “You’re not
asking for help, okay? I get it. I’m helping anyway, and you are going to have to deal with it.” He held her gaze until she relented.

  Shannon shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and scrubbed the tines of a fork. She kept her attention focused on the sink in front of her. Dean reached for another plate to dry and tried to ignore the growing need to help this woman. Clearly, she didn’t want help and she seemed to have a handle on things. So why did he feel this intense desire to be her knight in shining armor?

  They finished the rest of the dishes in silence. Dean watched the rain slide down the windowpane in wriggling rivulets. It was wet and miserable out there. He’d worked himself into a nasty mood this morning, upon waking to the same dreary weather that he felt had gone on for weeks. Munching on dry cereal, about the only food left in the house, had not improved things. Out of desperation he had found himself on Shannon’s doorstep. Now he worried that this might become something of a habit.

  The triplets were playing quietly in the living room. Had he really thought of them as hooligans before? Dean felt bad. It wasn’t that he had anything against children. Kids were cute—generally. It was the being forced to assume financial responsibility for children he knew weren’t his that turned him off.

  He thought back to the certified letter sitting on his desk at home. A vein began to throb in his temple and he had to work his jaw around when he realized how hard he’d been clenching it.

  “Do you have to head right home?”

  “What?” Wrapped in his thoughts, Dean jerked slightly when Shannon tugged the dishtowel from his hands.

  “I thought I could put on a movie. It’s a good day for a movie.”

  Oh, yeah. He could definitely see himself getting more and more comfortable with spending time with the neighbor. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t what he needed. He needed space, lots and lots of space. And peace. Dean looked down into those calming blue eyes and knew he was falling. He’d agree to almost anything if she’d just keep looking at him like that.

  No! That’s how it always started. They lured him in with sweet smiles and soft gazes. They just wanted to spend time with him, they said. “Let’s get to know each other.” Then it was all about ‘”What did you bring me today?” and “I’m bored, let’s go out.” The latter meaning either they would find a way to spend lots of his money or he would be dragged to another exclusive party and be forced to make introductions.

  “I need to go.” Dean pivoted quickly and headed for the foyer without further explanation.

  He stopped at the door and glanced briefly at the doorway to the living room. Should he say goodbye to the triplets? Would it be rude if he didn’t? Shannon stood to the side and didn’t say a word. She just watched him. Taking a deep breath, Dean edged closer to the doorway before he lost his nerve.

  “Um, I’m heading out. I’ll see you guys . . . and lady . . . around, huh?” He waggled his fingers then stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  Quick as a wink, three coppery-headed blurs came at him. Dean had just enough time to correct his stance before they knocked him to the ground. Instinctively, his arms came out to steady them. It ended up looking like a group hug. What should have felt awkward and uncomfortable, instead, felt more like a punch to the gut. They were hugging him goodbye. And he liked it. Oh, God, he was in more trouble than he’d thought.

  Chapter Four

  Grocery shopping was never fun. Grocery shopping with five-year-old triplets who wanted to be anywhere else but the supermarket was a nightmare. Armed with her detailed list, the sale flyer, an envelope full of coupons, and all the patience she could muster, Shannon hurried up and down the aisles. The sooner they finished shopping, the sooner they could all go out and play.

  Turning a corner without looking, Shannon winced when her cart bounced hard off another. She did a quick head count and saw that all the kids were fine. She then focused her attention on the poor customer she’d nearly plowed down. He wore a ball cap low over dark sunglasses. Blonde, sun-streaked strands snuck out below the cap. He looked around furtively, like he was trying to hide from someone.

  “Dean? Is that you? I’m so sorry I ran into you like that.” Shannon angled her head, eyeing him quizzically.

  “Uh. Hey. What’s up?” He checked over his shoulder and hunched further into his lightweight jacket.

  “You okay?” She was starting to get worried. He looked as though he were being stalked.

  “I’m fine. I’m shopping . . . for food.” He was clearly distracted.

  “Run out of dry cereal, did you?”

  “Yeah, I . . . how’d you know that?” He finally stood a little straighter and appeared to relax some.

  “I figured you came by for lunch the other day because you were out of food. Or you were sick of your own cooking.”

  Sparing a quick peek in his grocery cart, Shannon quickly ruled out the “own cooking” part. Dean was certainly stocking up on the dry cereal . . . and cans of soup . . . bread . . . peanut butter. Oh, this was just so wrong! Even a bachelor could live better than this. Hadn’t his mother taught him to cook? Did he go out and buy new clothes whenever it was time to do laundry, too? Good grief!

  “What’s your favorite food?” She shot Dean a straight look that showed him she wasn’t just making idle conversation.

  “I don’t know . . . pizza?” He shrugged his shoulders, the gesture sliding him further into his jacket, like a turtle retreating into its shell.

  “Come on. You’re at a restaurant with a menu in front of you. What do you order?”

  “Shannon, I really should hurry. I’ve got a ton of things to do back at the house.” Again, he looked over his shoulder like he expected someone to be following him. His eyes darted everywhere at once and sweat was starting to bead on his upper lip.

  He looks really freaked out, Shannon thought. He couldn’t have been here long, and must have had more shopping to do. But he was in an awful hurry to get away. What could have him so worked up? Then it hit her, and Shannon had to refrain from slapping her forehead in discovery.

  Dean was agoraphobic. All the evidence pointed to it. He lived alone and didn’t want anyone around. He found it difficult to leave the house. Once out of it he couldn’t stay away long before he felt too uncomfortable and had to rush back to the safety of his sanctuary. Oh, the poor man. Shannon had read articles on this condition and could only imagine the hell he must have to go through just to survive the day.

  “Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry we kept you. You go on home and we’ll catch up with you another time.” Shannon gathered the children around her so Dean could maneuver his cart past them all. He paused just before he turned the corner of the aisle.

  “It’s nothing personal. I didn’t want you to think . . . ” His words were a whispered mumble. He looked conflicted, one half of his body turned away from them ready to run and the other half leaning forward like he wanted to stay and chat.

  Shannon shook her head and waved goodbye, her smile sad. She would not get choked up here. She didn’t want to have to explain to the triplets why she was so upset for Mr. Dean. She imagined he’d be mortified if he found out her kids knew about what plagued him.

  But if he thought he was in this alone, he would definitely have to think again! He had neighbors now, and neighbors helped each other out. If he felt safest at home, then she was going to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. He didn’t need to subsist on soup and peanut butter sandwiches. Shannon was going to teach Dean to cook.

  “Come on, kids. I think we’re going to need a second cart.”

  Hastily, shoving her grocery list and envelope of coupons into her purse, Shannon also had to scrap her usual buying strategies. She hadn’t had to shop for one since . . . no, come to think of it, she’d had never had to shop for just herself. She eyed the shelves and bins for staples that weren’t likely to go to waste. Instead of family packs of meat, like she would normally buy, Shannon picked up the smaller packages.

  Her attenti
on lingered over the pricier cuts of steak. Something told her that Dean was no stranger to filet mignon, or maybe even caviar. But if she was going to show her new hermit friend how to cook for himself, he was going to learn on her budget.

  Even the triplets were helpful, knowing they were on a special mission. No one was whining, hitting, or asking for sugary snacks. Oh, they were definitely getting a treat for being so cooperative today! Shannon herded her brood over to the laundry aisle and asked the children to sniff the boxes of dryer sheets and decide, as a group, which one they liked best. While their backs were turned, she quickly snatched a box of crayons and three coloring books from a shelf on the opposite side of the aisle. She hid them in the grocery cart, under a big bargain bag of cereal.

  Saving the things she didn’t absolutely need for another day, Shannon and the kids hurried through the checkout. They stepped outside, momentarily blinded by the sun finally making an appearance. Hearing her name hollered across the parking lot, Shannon looked up to see Talia and her twins, Drake and Danny.

  “Hey, there!” Talia said. “We were just bringing some supplies over to Tumble Tots. Think I could borrow your gang for a couple of hours? We just got some new gym equipment and it really needs some hands-on testing.”

  “Oh, maybe another time. I’ve got to get our groceries put away and then I have stuff to drop off at the neighbor’s.” Shannon smiled gratefully, still rolling the cart toward her minivan.

  “Here, let us help.” Talia slipped her hands from each of the boys and made sure they were both holding on to Shannon’s shopping cart. Five children edged Shannon out of the way and pushed the cart in the right direction.

  “Please? You’d be doing me a huge favor.” Talia gripped Shannon’s arm and drew her just far away enough to be out of range of little ears. “Jeff is on me to have another baby. Like two-year-old twins aren’t enough!”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? Had I known, I would have fed them a ton of candy.” The women laughed.

  “Seriously . . . the place is closed. It’s just Jeff and me with the kids. We’ll get them nice and tuckered out. You go spend time with your new man.”