Doorstep daddy

by Cajio, Linda

  Callie shuddered at the thought of never-ending offices where one was spun in ever more frustrating circles. "I'll do my best, I promise. Now, I'll need information from you."

  As she took it, she knew he'd probably become overwhelmed and bewildered, or had filled out something wrong, which had caused the problem for him. Computers didn't just decide someone was dead. Some human error somewhere had kicked Lester Jones's name out of the system. Even though he should be able to rectify it through normal channels, occasionally that didn't work. It might not be her job, but she stepped in for people from time to time. She just believed people should help others when they could.

  She got all the information she needed from Lester, and he left her office almost smiling. Almost. She had a feeling that the other half of his problem was his bristly exterior. People probably refused to budge on his behalf. She intended to ream him out for his rudeness, after she helped him.

  She made a few phone calls to people who promised to check into the problem and call her right back. With amusement, she flipped her calendar over two days and wrote down Lester Jones's name to remind herself to follow up with her contacts. If they actually called back before then, it would be a miracle. Bureaucracy held no miracles.

  When her telephone rang a short time later, she wondered if a miracle had occurred.

  "Hello?" she said when she picked it up.

  "Hi. Am I calling at a bad time?"

  Richard. He didn't identify himself, but she knew the voice too well already. It sent a shiver of anticipation along her nerve endings. She could feel again that searing kiss he'd given her. Every kiss he'd given her. They'd been far too few and far too memorable. How could she be just friends with a man who kissed like that? Her body said it would be a lot more than friends if it had the least opportunity - and that scared her.

  "Hi," she said, glad her voice sounded fairly normal.

  "I'm helping a dead guy come alive again, but no big deal."

  "Is his name Lazarus?"

  Callie laughed. "By the time I'm done with Lester Jones, it will be. Poor Lester is a victim of human error - and a first-class curmudgeon."

  "Why help him, then, if he's so nasty?"

  "Because I'm a very nice person. And because after I help him, I'll take him to the woodshed. There'll be so much more pleasure in it then."

  "Getting thrashed by you would be a pleasure in and of itself."

  Callie's face heated. She was glad he couldn't see the blush. "What can I do for you, Richard?"

  "Oh, the temptation. I've always had this thing about women's silk panties - "

  "I'm sure they look lovely on you," Callie said, having had enough of the nonsense. "Now, could you be serious?"

  "Cut a guy's heart out, why don't you." "One phone call from me, and you'll be as dead as Poor Lester. And I promise I will not rescue you." "I'll be good." "Good."

  She had to admit the sexual innuendo and the bantering appealed to her feminine ego. Hells bells, it was nice for a man to view her as a potential bed partner. She would be very tempted if he didn't want and need more from a woman than she could give. Unfortunately, if he didn't, she knew she would want and need more for herself. Why were men such a catch-22, instead of being such a great catch?

  "I called to see how you were after the other night. I didn't handle things well, and I apologize for that."

  "I'm fine." After a soul-searching Sunday, she acknowledged. "I didn't handle things well myself, Richard, and I apologize for that, too."

  "We're getting good at apologies, aren't we?" He chuckled.

  Callie smiled. "Too good."

  "I thought about what you said, and I want to be a friend to you, too."

  "You do?" The notion didn't sit well with her. It felt like... like a rejection.

  "I do. Callie, you're a terrific person, and like I told Amanda, we need a friend like you in our fives."

  "You talked to Amanda about me?" she asked, shocked. What was this "need a friend like you in our fives" stuff, let alone discussing it with a child?

  "Amanda was upset about catching us kissing. Probably she was upset because Joey was with her. By the way, your nephew is practically living over here now."

  "Put limits on the visits so the two of them get their homework done," she said automatically, then returned to the subject at hand. "I really wish you hadn't talked to Amanda about us. There is no 'us' for one thing."

  "I told her that." He chuckled again, sounding far too amenable to their new status. ' 'She got defensive of me, which was nice."

  "What does that mean?" Callie demanded, as bewildered and confused by Richard as Lester Jones had been by the bureaucratic system.

  "Nothing. Just that she thought...well, that I was worth more than friendship." His voice faltered. "You know teenagers. First they're embarrassed by something, then they're defending one's honor if they think the family member's been hurt by someone. I thought it was nice of Amanda. I even had a good talk with her about things, the best talk we've had so far."

  Callie realized how petty and perverse she sounded. Why was she so testy over his agreeing with her about their being friends? She wasn't sure whether she was more annoyed about his conversation with Amanda or with Amanda becoming defensive on her uncle's behalf. Why would either bother her? And bother her this much?

  "Oh, okay," she said lamely, having no clue what else to say. "Richard, I need to get back to work."

  "Sure. I should be working, too. Would you like to have dinner on Saturday again? As friends of course."

  "Of course," she muttered in disgust.

  "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

  "Nothing." She knew what answer she needed to give and did her duty. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

  "I see."

  He probably did. She could hear the hurt in his voice. Temptation was a brick wall in her path, but she said, "Richard, I really can't. That's my youngest brother Jamie's birthday. My parents are giving him a party."

  "Oh. How about Sunday?"

  She sighed. "Richard..."

  "Just as friends."

  Oh, Lord. She was beginning to hate that word.

  "I don't think it's wise."

  "It is, if we're just friends," he reminded her.

  Yep, she did hate that word.

  "Let me think on it," she said.

  "You do that so nicely."

  "I try."

  After a telling pause he said, "My turn to be nice. I'll let you go and call you later on." She smiled. "Okay."

  Several hours later was hardly the "later on" she envisioned when she answered her phone and heard Richard's voice.

  "Callie? I hate to ask, but I have no one else to turn to."

  Something in his tone made her sit up. "What's the problem?"

  "The soccer team from Java is in Philly on a U.S. tour. Their right winger was in a car crash. I have to go to the hospital to handle the paperwork and whatever else they need. I can't take Mark and I don't know how long I'll be. Could I presume on our friendship and ask you to watch him until I get back?"

  "Sure," Callie said, in total sympathy with his problem. "I'll come over now. It's only a couple more hours until work's over, anyway."

  "Great. Thanks." His relief came clearly over the line. "You're the best friend a guy could have."

  Callie looked heavenward.

  Just the words she wanted to hear.

  Chapter Five

  It was after midnight before Richard walked in his front door.

  He shut it behind him and leaned against it wearily. What a day and night, he thought. Everything passed by him in a blur of waiting rooms, isopropyl-alcohol fumes and bad translations.

  "Hi." Callie's slim form was silhouetted in the foyer doorway. "How's the winger?"

  "Resting comfortably." He smiled at her and straightened. "It's not anything more serious than a couple of broken ribs and a concussion. The broken leg's a concern because of soccer, but it should heal. They're keeping him overnight. How did
it go here?"

  Callie grinned. "Good. Mark was fine. Jason argued television over homework. He lost, so I don't think he's happy with me. Amanda was upset at first when she came home to find me, not you, but then she was okay. We all made cookies. Chocolate chip. Want some?"

  "I'd kill for some," he said, following her into the kitchen.

  He stopped dead. The room was spotless, all the clutter gone and the toys put away.

  "Wow," he said in awe, coming fully into the room. "How did you do this?"

  "I told them we wouldn't make cookies until they cleaned up." She laughed. "Even Mark put away his Be-Bop. He threw it in the toilet, but that's a minor point."

  "It's the hold-out-the-carrot theory, eh? You didn't tell me that one before." He wondered what kind of carrot to hold out to her. Not only for baby-sitting, but for other things, as well. "You are an angel. But I've always known that."

  She smiled shyly, for her. "I was happy to do it."

  He wanted to kiss her but resisted. She had drawn a line in the sexual sand, and he wasn't sure how to cross it without disastrous results. "I've only known you a few weeks, but I feel like I've known you all my life. I trust you completely."

  "Richard, please. It's okay. No big deal."

  "It is to me." He paused. "Callie, I have to take this guy back to Java. Probably the day after tomorrow. The coaches have to stay with the team, you see, and he's not able to go by himself. As consul here, I have to escort him home. This is the sort of thing they pay me the big bucks for." He grinned wryly. "It'll take a long weekend at most. I hate to ask. I wish I had someone else to ask, but my mother's in Florida and she's not in the best of health. And frankly, she's not crazy about kids, so it's never been a good situation. That's why I was named guardian of the kids." He remembered her brother's birthday party. "Wait. You can't, anyway. You have your brother's party - "

  "Richard, don't worry about that," she interrupted. "I'd do it in a heartbeat, but wouldn't the kids be more comfortable with a family member?''

  "No, there really isn't another family member. I havel cousins in the area, but I haven't seen them in years, and the kids don't know them at all. But the kids know you, and I know you. We trust you, Callie."

  "Oh, God." Callie took a cookie and bit into it.

  "I'd take them if I could, but I can't. The trip will be grueling, and I can't care for them and the player, too."

  "I know. It just doesn't feel right for me to stay with the kids."

  "It feels very right to me." When he'd realized the player couldn't continue the tour and would have to be carted home, he hadn't known what to do with the kids - until he thought of Callie. Never had something seemed so perfect as leaving Amanda and the boys with her. "You care about them, Callie. They know it. So do I."

  "Richard." She sighed. "There are so many reasons why you shouldn't and I shouldn't. When do you leave?"

  He smiled, recognizing that the nightmare had a bright corner to it. "Not until the end of the week at least. Prang - that's his name - has to wait until the danger from the concussion passes. I'll pay you, Callie, whatever you want."

  She glared at him. "Don't ruin the moment with crass materialism. I might take you up on it."

  He smiled. "I owe you my life."

  "Now you're talking my language." She grinned back, then sobered. "I better go. I do have to work tomorrow, and I'll have a lot to do if I'm going to be out of the office for a couple of days."

  "Do you want me to talk to your boss?" he asked.

  "No. I can use my laptop to work from here."

  Good luck, he thought, knowing that, for him, carving

  | out work time among the kids was a lesson in frustration. I "I'll have the Javanese government give you a humanitarian award."

  She laughed. "I'd like that. Hey, I could be the Java I Woman."

  "I'll see what I can do," he promised. "Richard, are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.

  "Yes. I'm very sure I want the kids with you," he replied, finally taking a cookie. He bit into it. "Hey! This is really good."

  "I think that's the one Mark sneezed on."

  The cookie piece went dry as dust in his mouth until I he saw her mischievous grin. He swallowed and said, I "You love teasing me, don't you?"

  "Men are such prime candidates for teasing. By the way, do you have a potty chair for Mark?"

  Bewildered, he repeated, "A potty chair?"

  She looked at him with obvious exasperation. "You know what a potty chair is. Come on, that wonderful device for getting children out of diapers - "

  "Oh. Oh!"

  "The light has been switched on," Callie said.

  "Oh." The final exclamation came out as a groan. "I don't have one. Why?"

  "Mark's ready for training, I think."

  Training what? Richard wondered, even though he knew. He just wasn't sure he was ready for it even if Mark was.

  "I'll get one for you and train him while you're gone."

  "My God," he said. "Can you do it in a weekend?" "If Mark's ready."

  "How can you look at him and know he's ready?"

  "He reminds me of my youngest brother at that stage, and I trained him." She shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it. I noticed today that his diapers were dry for a couple of hours at a time. Well, we'll try and see how he does. If he's not ready, we'll stop. He'll let us know. Boy, will he let us know!"

  "Wow." The possibilities were tremendous with Mark no longer in diapers. "If I come home and I don't have to change him, I'll have died and gone to heaven. Do you have any clue what that's like?"

  "Millions of women and men know, believe me."

  "Yeah, but I don't." He picked her up and swung her around. "Callie, if you could do that, then you are my guardian angel."

  She gave a deep throaty chuckle.

  Her body was soft and lithe in his embrace. His senses stirred, sending a rush of heat through his veins. Without thought, he leaned forward and kissed her. Her mouth opened to his. Their tongues mated. He tasted sweetness and chocolate, a rich combination that imprinted on his brain. He'd never be able to eat that kind of cookie again without tasting this moment.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hard even through her clothes and his. He wanted her. She had come into his life like a whirlwind at a time when he'd had to set aside adult relationships. Yet she had already made wonderful changes in his everyday life. He needed a much more intimate change between them, one that was forbidden.

  Callie pulled away. "Richard, we shouldn't."

  He was sick of that notion. Maybe they shouldn't, but he damn well wanted her to know what they might both be giving up.

  He kissed her again, tasting her mouth, tasting her

  I need as she came to him eagerly. Her fingers dug into i his shoulders. Her hips pressed against his. Their thighs l brushed together. She might not want to be with a man, f but she wanted him.

  When he let her go this time, her eyes fluttered slowly

  open as if she was still caught in the grip of the kiss.

  Her lips were swollen from their passion. That pleased

  him.

  "Don't worry," he couldn't resist saying. "It was just between friends."

  "Oh." Her eyes narrowed. He had the distinct feeling } she didn't like that remark. Which pleased him even i more. It was nice to be the elusive one for once. "I really have to go," she said. He walked her to the door, deliberately not touching her. He went outside with her to her car, neither of them speaking, yet the awareness between them nearly tangible. The chill air didn't bother him, although she pushed up her coat collar. He opened her car door and said, "Callie, thanks for everything. You are my guardian angel."

  "Your friendly guardian angel." Her voice sounded sour.

  He kissed her cheek in the most platonic of gestures. "Absolutely. I'll call you tomorrow."

  She nodded curtly, then left him standing in the driveway as she backed the car out into the street.

>   Richard watched her pull away around the corner before he went into the house and shut the door. His l friendly guardian angel. He wondered how long that would last and hoped not long at all.

  He headed for the kitchen and another cookie.

  "But i don't want to clean my room!" Jason stamped his feet and folded his arms across his

  chest, his look defiant.

  Callie sighed. Just what she needed: Mr. Macho Man. "Okay, my friend. It's your choice, so I guess you won't be playing your video game tonight."

  Jason's arms fell to his sides and his jaw dropped open. "What!"

  Callie shrugged. "Your room's a disaster and I am certainly not going to clean it."

  "But we have a cleaning lady!" Jason wailed.

  "That may be, but she won't be able to set foot on a square inch of carpet, let alone vacuum it. You have to clean it up. The last thing I want is to dig up some experiment in there on how many fruit flies can exist off a dirty dish under the bed. Unless it's a science experiment for school, it's just a plain old mess."

  "It is an experiment," Jason said quickly.

  "Then show me a note from a teacher that it is, and you're in the clear. Just like your room needs to be."

  The boy frowned. "Uncle Richard always cleans up my room for me."

  Callie turned her head to one side and then the other to display her profile. Aggrieved, she said, ' 'Do I look like Uncle Richard? I'm much shorter and less hairy, thank goodness."

  "But it's not fair," Jason whined.

  "Life's not fair, so we have to make the best of what we're given. Cleaning a dirty room is a positive thing." She turned him toward the stairs. "Come on, Jay. I'm dying to play Go-Go Karts and I need a second player. Mark's no good. He keeps trying to eat the joystick."

  "All right." Jason trudged up the steps, defeated by his desire to beat the heck out of her at the game.

  "Carrots," she murmured, going back into the kitchen. "Who says kids don't want 'em? As long as you use the right kind of carrot, they do."

  Richard had left two days ago with the soccer player and was due back late tomorrow. She'd wondered more than once how she'd wound up here, and knew it was her big mouth.

  "Poopies!" Mark announced.

  "Okay, big guy," she said, scooping him up and rushing him to the potty she'd brought with her.