by Judy Duarte
Yet Joe’s pulse kicked up a notch when he saw her, stirring up the old memories, the old feelings he’d thought had been buried years ago.
How could she still do that to him when she appeared so prim and proper?
Even as a teenager, she dressed conservatively and hadn’t worn shorts very often. Was she planning to go with them for a bike ride? Or would she let Bobby go alone?
Joe shouldn’t care. But for some reason, he did. And in spite of his better judgment, he couldn’t help thinking it would be nice to have Kristin along, to see her loosen up a bit. Maybe coax a smile or a laugh from her.
For Bobby’s sake, of course.
He slid his son’s mother an easy grin. “I borrowed Chloe’s bike, just in case you’d like to ride with us.”
Kristin had hoped Joe would include her. And she’d dressed accordingly. But the fact that he’d borrowed his sexy neighbor’s bike was a bit unsettling. And she’d be darned if she knew why.
What did it matter if Joe and his neighbor were lovers?
She managed a smile. “I haven’t ridden a bike in years, but it sounds like fun.”
“Good.”
Two hours later, as the sun glistened over Bayside Park and Marina, Kristin, Joe and their son rode bikes along a scenic path. They’d stopped along the way several times. To get a drink of water. To stretch their legs. To eat a hamburger at a sidewalk stand.
But this time, they stopped to rest on the grass, where they watched the antics of a couple of seagulls.
“This is the funnest day of my whole life,” Bobby said, eyes gleaming.
“I’m glad.” Joe looked at Kristin, then returned his focus to Bobby. “This has been a pretty special day for me, too. And if your mom doesn’t mind, I’d like to spend more time with you.”
“That would be way cool.” Bobby cast her a pleading glance. “You don’t mind, do you, Mom?”
Yes, she minded. In a way. But she wasn’t about to disappoint her son. “I’m glad that you and Joe have fun together.”
Bobby glanced at the helmet in his hands, then looked up at Joe. “What kind of things did you do for fun when you were a kid?”
“I didn’t get to do too much stuff when I was your age.” Joe glanced at Kristin, and she suspected he was trying to tap-dance around the truth.
Joe’s childhood hadn’t been particularly pleasant, although she didn’t know all of the details. He’d been pretty tight-lipped about his past while they were dating. But she knew his dad had been a druggie and a low-life, and she appreciated him glossing over the ugliness for Bobby’s sake.
“You didn’t get to play?” Bobby asked. “Not even at recess?”
“I played at school. But there wasn’t much money for toys at home.” Joe tapped a finger on Bobby’s nose. “But don’t worry about me. I’ve made up for that now that I’m grown up. I work hard when I’m on duty. And I play hard when I’m not.”
“What do you mean? Do you have toys now?”
Joe chuckled. “Grown-up toys. Like surfboards, Jet Skis and a fancy set of golf clubs. While I’m off duty, I know how to have fun. I play a little golf with a doctor buddy of mine. And I spend a lot of time at the beach.”
“I like the beach, too,” Bobby said. “And I want to learn how to surf.”
“If it’s okay with your mom, I’ll give you a few lessons.”
They both looked at Kristin, and she nodded. Joe certainly meant what he said about being a part of their son’s life. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Torn, she supposed. Yet pleased.
She couldn’t help but study father and son. Couldn’t help but appreciate the easy smiles and laughter that Joe coaxed from Bobby.
Spending the day together had been pleasant. Special. Heartwarming and fun.
Is this what she could expect when she and Dylan were married?
Kristin looked at the rugged fireman who sat beside her. The sun glimmered off the golden highlights in his hair. And when he caught her eye and slid her a bad-boy grin, her heart skipped a beat in a way it hadn’t done in years.
No, something told her. An outing with Dylan and Bobby wouldn’t be like this at all.
At the end of the day, Joe took Kristin and Bobby back to her father’s house, where a black Mercedes convertible was parked in the drive. Out-of-state specialty plates reading DR DYLAN told Joe who had come to visit.
“Hey,” Bobby said. “What’s he doing here?”
“He’s been in Los Angeles this past week, filming a television special. Apparently, he’s come down to visit.” Kristin’s cheeks had taken on a rosy glow.
Sunburned from an afternoon by the bay? Or flushed? Joe wasn’t sure. But like Bobby, he wondered what the good ol’ doctor was doing here, too.
Had Dylan Montgomery, better known as Dr. Dylan of book and TV fame, come to claim his future wife and stepson?
The thought tore at Joe’s gut. It was one thing sharing his son with Kristin. And something completely different when he thought of sharing the boy with another man.
The fact that the doctor was sleeping with Kristin didn’t sit too well with him, either. But he wouldn’t go there. Not on a bet.
Things were over between them. And besides, an awful lot had happened in the past eight years.
The front door swung open, and a tall, dark-haired man in a snazzy three-piece suit strolled outside. He sported a fresh haircut, a mustache and a bright-eyed smile. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses gave him an air of wisdom and professionalism.
But Joe found it hard to be impressed.
The psychologist approached Kristin and took her in his arms. “Surprised to see me, honey?”
She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Yes, of course. How long can you stay?”
“A day or two.”
It was a formal greeting. Uptight, actually.
Because of Joe’s presence? Maybe. But Joe suspected their relationship lacked passion. Or did he only wish that were the case?
Did things heat up when they were alone? In bed?
His stomach knotted when he thought of Dylan holding Kristin in his arms, kissing her. Did she still make those little whimpering sounds right before she climaxed?
Damn. He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to rid himself of the crazy, inappropriate thoughts.
Why did the idea of their lovemaking bother him?
He wasn’t sure. Maybe because this pansy of a guy was supposed to be a better match for her than he’d been. At least Dr. Dylan was a man her father approved of.
But hell, Joe had let Kristin go a long time ago, freeing her to make something of her life with someone like Dylan.
Kristin’s fiancé reached out his arm to greet Joe. “Dr. Dylan Montgomery.”
“Joe Davenport.”
The guy’s hand was pansy-soft, yet he gripped Joe in a vise-like hold, as though trying to prove himself king of the cavemen or something.
“Joe is the fireman who has taken an interest in Bobby,” she said.
Oh yeah? Joe shot her a narrow-eyed glance, letting her know that he wasn’t pleased about the pretense she continued to keep—especially with her fiancé. Was she trying to hide the fact that Joe had been her lover? Her first lover?
Their lovemaking hadn’t been stiff or formal. It had been hot. Demanding. Eye-crossing and toe-curling.
“We appreciate you spending time with Bobby,” the TV doctor said, flashing Joe a dazzling glimpse of his pearly white teeth. Were they expensive veneers? Or had Dylan merely been blessed with looks, personality and brains?
Either way, Joe found it hard not to be nitpicky when it came to the man who was Kristin’s current lover. Did he really turn Kristin’s head?
Apparently so. But that wasn’t any of Joe’s business. He’d walked away from their star-crossed relationship years ago—for her sake. Of course he wasn’t walking away now. Not from his son.
“I’d like to see Bobby on Thursday,” he told Kristin. “Maybe we’ll go to the beach and give surf
ing a shot.”
“All right.” She looked at her fiancé, then at the boy who was beaming with excitement. “Bobby, why don’t you take Dylan in the house.”
When they were alone on the grass, Kristin chewed the last remnants of lipstick from her bottom lip, then caught Joe’s gaze. “I’ll tell Dylan about your relationship with Bobby this evening.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Joe nodded toward the house. “You don’t have to come along to the beach, if that will complicate your life.”
“My life is already complicated,” she said.
“Mine, too. I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“Okay.”
They stood for a moment, caught up in something weird. Something that was loaded with memories and realities too heavy to mention. A stolen kiss behind the dugout at school. A winter afternoon spent on a quilt before a flickering fire in the hearth at her dad’s cabin in Julian. The day he’d broken up with her for good. The tears that slipped down her cheek. The ache in his chest that erupted into tears of his own on the walk back to his foster parents’ home.
Shake it off, he told himself. A lot of time had passed. He and Kristin had different lives now, and the only thing they had in common was Bobby. Their son.
They stood there for a moment, lost in the silence of their thoughts, their memories.
Then he climbed into the Tahoe and drove away, hoping to leave the past behind him.
But those toe-curling, eye-crossing memories hovered over him and followed him all the way home. And so did the grief at what he’d let slip from his fingers.
No matter how right that decision had been.
Chapter Six
Joe finished hooking up a brand-new Nintendo GameCube to his television, then sat down in the leather recliner and took hold of the bright, purple controller.
He’d just reached the first level of Razzle-Dazzle, the latest and most popular game on the market, and hit the yellow button to make his little man jump for a sparkling diamond. When a knock sounded at the door of his condo, his thumb slipped, and the little man tumbled off a stack of barrels.
Joe’s competitive streak wrestled with childish disappointment, but only for a moment. It was time for Kristin and Bobby to arrive, and he was eager to show his son all he’d bought.
The video game setup was just a part of the surprise. Earlier today, Joe had purchased jeans, shorts and T-shirts at a local surf shop—sharp, name-brand play clothes any Southern California kid would be proud to wear. And he’d gone grocery shopping, too. He’d picked up macaroni and cheese dinners, hot dogs, frozen pepperoni pizzas and chips. He’d gotten a couple of cases of soda pop and six different types of candy, too. Hey, who said Joe Davenport didn’t know how to be a dad?
When Joe opened the door, his eyes lit on Kristin, on the perfect fit of the cream-colored slacks and sweater she wore, the glossy sheen of her hair, the sparkle in her sea-green eyes. But his smile waned when his gaze was drawn to the tall, dark-haired man who accompanied them.
What the hell was the TV shrink doing here?
Dylan Montgomery extended his hand in greeting, but this time Joe was ready for him.
“Hey, Doc.” Joe gripped the pansy-soft hand in a firm squeeze. “It’s good to see you again.”
It wasn’t, of course. But a guy had to keep up pretenses for his son’s sake.
Dr. Dylan rubbed his hand, yet the smile never left his face. “It’s nice of you to invite Bobby over. He really enjoys your company.”
“I enjoy his company, too. He’s a great kid.” Joe shrugged off his critical assessment of the doctor and smiled at his son. “Hey, Bobby. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
The boy’s eyes widened and his smile brightened. “What is it?”
“I’ve got a new video game set up, and I want you to help me try it out.”
“Cool.” Bobby arched his neck, trying to see past Joe.
“Why don’t you go on in and take a look,” he told his son.
After the boy dashed into the living room, leaving the adults to stand awkwardly in the doorway, Joe stepped aside. “Come on in.”
“No,” the doctor said. “We won’t intrude on your time with Bobby.”
Well, then get the hell off my porch, Joe wanted to say. But he refrained from giving a snide retort. He’d managed to rein in his temper years ago. Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t let it slip once in a while.
But why did he feel like letting loose now?
Dr. Dylan hadn’t done anything to get him all stirred up like this—other than being the man in Kristin’s life.
And so what if Kristin was going to marry the guy? It wasn’t Joe’s concern.
Her dad, though, was probably as happy as an over-fed Christmas goose and honking all over Bayside about his daughter’s lucky catch.
Thomas Reynolds had never believed Joe would amount to a hill of garbage. The real estate baron had been wrong, of course. Joe had come a long way—although he doubted the old man would think a fireman was good enough for his daughter.
But Joe quit giving a damn about what other people thought years ago. He had his own standards to measure himself by—standards Harry Logan had modeled for him.
“Kristin and I are going to take advantage of your offer to look after Bobby,” Dylan said. “We’re going to spend the day visiting the museums in Balboa Park.”
Wasn’t that just ducky.
Joe would rather spend a lazy day at the beach. And in the past, Kristin had felt that way, too.
“There’s supposed to be a great show at the Reuben H. Fleet Space Theater,” Kristin added.
“Well, I won’t keep you then.” Joe forced a happy-go-lucky smile, as he held on to the door, ready to swing it shut.
“I…uh…hope you don’t intend to let Bobby watch video games all day long,” Dylan said. “Since he’s an only child, he’s become adept at mastering solitary play. But we’d like to see him get more fresh air and sunshine.”
The TV shrink was touted to be a whiz at male-female relationships. Was he an expert on parenting, too?
Joe bit his tongue to keep from telling the doctor where to shove his child psychology books and nodded toward the living room, where Bobby sat on the floor with the GameCube controller in his hand. “Actually, Bobby and I are going to the beach. But we’ll probably play Razzle-Dazzle first.”
Joe would be damned if he’d let the Dr. Know-It-All order him around.
“Bobby’s looking forward to surfing,” Kristin said, handing Joe a blue canvas bag she’d held at her side. “Here’s his swimsuit, a towel and some sunscreen.”
Joe took it from her. Had her hand trembled? Or was that just his imagination?
“Please keep an eye on him,” she added. “And don’t let him go to the bathroom alone.”
Kristin’s concern for her son was kind of cute, touching actually. Joe’s mother, before she died, had fussed over him like that—from what he could remember. He supposed moms were supposed to be worrywarts.
“By the way,” Dylan interjected. “Bobby needs a firm hand. So be careful that you don’t give in to him.”
Joe felt compelled to slam a fist into the good doctor’s handsome face, but he crossed his arms instead.
Still, enough was enough. It was one thing dealing with Kristin’s instructions and insecurities. But he’d be damned if he’d let some psychology superstar try to tell him how to be a dad.
Bobby might need a firm hand. Heck, Joe had figured that out the first day he’d met him at the fire. But Joe Davenport would stumble and fumble through fatherhood on his own, thank you very much. And Dr. Dylan could go back to the TV studio and advise bored housewives how to put more excitement into their marriages.
“Kristin is too soft on the boy.” The well-dressed psychologist slipped an arm around his fiancée’s shoulders, then chuckled. “But don’t worry. I’m coaching her. She’ll toughen up.”
Funny, but Joe hadn’t noticed Kristin being too soft on Bobby. Nor h
ad he noticed the boy being anything other than active, inquisitive and normally mischievous.
“Enjoy the museums,” Joe said, eager to see them gone, ready to slam the door and shut out the couple so he could spend the day with his son.
“Watch him closely,” Kristin said. “He’s a good swimmer, but he’s not used to the ocean.”
“I’ve got an in with the lifeguards and the paramedics,” Joe said. “Remember?”
Kristin shot him a maternal look of concern he hadn’t seen on a woman since he’d gotten lost at the bus depot as a kid. And it damn near turned his heart inside out.
Instinctively, Joe reached up and cupped her cheek. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine.”
When he realized what he’d done, he dropped his hand. But something held them together. Something biological and instinctive, he supposed. At least, that’s what he hoped was happening.
“I’m sure Bobby is in safe hands,” Dylan said. “Come on, honey.”
Then the snazzy doctor ushered Kristin toward the black Mercedes parked at the curb.
As the relationship expert reached to open the car door for Kristin, she looked over her shoulder at Joe—prolonging what little connection they’d had.
After playing Razzle-Dazzle for much longer than Dr. Dylan would have approved, Joe and Bobby put on their bathing suits and walked outside, where the surfboard was already secured to the rack on top of the Tahoe.
They spotted Chloe striding along the sidewalk, out of breath from her morning run.
She wore a pair of skimpy black shorts and a yellow bikini top that had its work cut out trying to contain breasts that threatened to pop out each time she sucked in air.
“Bobby, you remember my neighbor, Chloe, don’t you?”
The boy nodded, his eyes fixed on the redhead’s chest.
Chloe looked at the Tahoe, scanned the yard, then addressed Bobby. “Where’s your mom?”
“She and her boyfriend, Dr. Dylan, went to some museums in the park. But Joe and I are gonna do something fun. We’re going to the beach.”
Chloe arched a brow and looked at Joe. “Dr. Dylan? That isn’t the guy I saw on Oprah, is it?”