“I tell you what.” Leaning forward, he braced his forearms on his thighs and met the boy’s distrust straight on. “How about if I promise not to do anything with your mother she doesn’t want me to do?”
Dylan considered that for a long time. Mike held his breath, hoping the boy wouldn’t see the obvious loophole in the promise. Finally Dylan’s brow dimpled. “You swear?”
Releasing his breath, Mike ran his right forefinger over his chest. “Cross my heart and may my hard drive crash tomorrow if I’m lying.”
Dylan relaxed a bit at that. “I guess it’s okay if you take her out then.”
Mike struggled not to laugh. He’d thought of fathers as a tough gauntlet to pass when picking up a date, but sons had them beat by a mile.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kate said as she breezed into the room.
“No problem.” Mike rose quickly on a wave of relief. “Dylan and I were just—” He froze as he turned and saw her. Good God, was it legal for a woman to look like that? Like pure desire gift-wrapped in gold silk? With her hair swept upward exposing her neck, he had an instant impulse to lean forward and sink his teeth in for a big bite.
She stopped short as well, staring at him as if equally startled. Self-consciously, he straightened the Tasmanian Devil tie he wore with a long-sleeved green shirt and black slacks. For a brief moment he almost wished he’d bought one of those damned white monkey shirts.
“You cut your hair,” she whispered.
“What?” He stared at her, not comprehending at first. “Oh, that.” With a shaky laugh, he ran a hand through the shortened strands. Another impulse. “I figured you’d suggest it eventually, so I decided to get it over with.” Feeling awkward and a bit foolish, he lifted the flowers. “Here. I um—Here.”
“Oh.” Kate went still. Before she could guard against it, delight slipped past her defenses. He’d brought her flowers, a huge colorful explosion of flowers wrapped in tissue paper and tied with a single red ribbon.
“I didn’t know what you liked,” he said with a shrug. “So I told the girl at the flower shop to give me one of everything.”
Which was, of course, exactly what she liked: variety, color, and extravagant gestures. “Mike…” she scolded even as she took them.
“I know,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have brought you flowers because this isn’t a date. So, consider it practice—part of your job as my dating coach.”
“Oh, well then…” Her heart softened as she inhaled their fragrance. “I suppose I could take them, for practice.” She tried to keep her face from going soft and dreamy, only she’d forgotten how nice it felt to get flowers from a man, the way it made her heart flutter.
“I’ll, um—” She made a vague gesture toward the kitchen. “Just put these in some water.”
As she moved toward the sink, she saw Linda come out of the bedroom, all curious eyes and friendly smiles. “You must be Mike Cameron.”
“And you must be Linda Davis.” He shook the hand she offered. “I recognize you from your business card.”
“I’m surprised you can. My face wasn’t nearly so round back then. Not to mention the rest of me,” Linda laughed.
“True,” he admitted with a smile. “You are definitely… round.”
“Which does not mean you’re fat,” Kate called from the sink as she filled a vase.
“Of course she’s not fat.” Mike frowned at her. “I didn’t mean that at all. It’s just that women always look so… interesting when they’re… you know, expecting.”
“Interesting?” Kate asked. She’d clobber him if he undid the pep talk she’d just given her friend.
Mike shrugged. “All glowing and maternal, like life-sized fertility goddesses.” His gaze slid from Linda to Kate and moved over her body as if imagining her in a similar state.
Heat fluttered low in her belly at the look in his eyes. “See?” She smiled at Linda, fighting to keep her voice from going breathy. “You’re not fat.”
Linda beamed at Mike. “I don’t suppose you’d mention that part about fertility goddesses to my husband, would you?”
“Sorry,” Mike laughed. “I’m afraid he’ll have to figure that one out for himself.”
Settling the flowers in the vase, Kate carried them to the breakfast table. Later she’d let herself get silly over them, arranging them, smelling them, but not now when they had somewhere to be. “Dylan, you be good for Miss Linda, okay?” She bent down for a hug.
“Okay.” He flung his arms around her neck.
She absorbed the feel of him pressed tight against her body, let it calm the riot of other, more complicated emotions. “I’ll miss you tonight.”
“I’ll miss you too.” For a fraction of a second, he clung a little tighter, then stepped away to glare at Mike. “Remember what you swore.”
“Scout’s honor.” Mike held up two fingers.
Kate frowned over that exchange as they left the cabin and descended to the gravel driveway. The ever-present herd of deer munched acorns under the stand of oak trees that hid the cabin from the road, while the orange Corvette presented a jarring contrast to the rustic setting.
“So,” she asked as Mike handed her into the passenger side. “You want to tell me what that ‘scout’s honor’ business was about?”
“Not particularly.” Mike chuckled before he closed the door and headed around the hood.
She watched him covertly, noticing how nice he looked in his new clothes. If only he hadn’t cut his hair, she thought with an inward sigh. It looked more brown than blond with all the sun-bleached ends cut off. The longer hair had given him a rakish appeal that positively begged a woman to run her hands through it.
Realizing the direction of her thoughts, she pulled them up short and decided she was glad he’d cut his hair. Very glad. She needed to concentrate on doing her job, not indulge in fantasies about running her fingers through her client’s hair. Especially since that image led to a whole wealth of other fantasies about steaming up the windows of his vintage sports car.
She forced her mind back to the subject at hand as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Tell me anyway.”
“Tell you what?” he asked.
“About the scout’s honor thing.”
“Naw-ah.” He shook his head and brought the car to life with a twist of his wrist. “That’s privileged information. You know—guy stuff.”
Kate narrowed her eyes as they pulled onto the road. “And I’m his mother, which overrides any secret male pacts.”
From the way Mike concentrated on driving, she knew he was doing a quick mental edit of whatever Dylan had actually said. “Basically, he wanted to know what my intentions were.”
“And you told him…?”
His grin turned wicked. “That I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to.”
“Oh, now that’s reassuring.” And one of the oldest lines in the book.
“It was to him,” he insisted. “After all, what seven-year-old boy would believe his mother actually wants to do the horizontal boogie?”
“The horizontal boogie?” Her laugh came quick and easy, surprising her. She should be scolding him for misleading her son, and reminding him there would be no horizontal boogie, but his charm doused her ire.
“There.” He nodded in approval at the sound. “That’s better. You should laugh more often.”
Her smile faded as she became aware of the close quarters in the car and how his hand on the gearshift rested near her thigh. Physical awareness tingled along her skin. Shifting in her seat, she searched for a safer topic. “Thank you for what you said to Linda.”
“What, about her being round?”
“No.” She shook her head. “About glowing like a fertility goddess.”
“Did you glow when you were pregnant?”
“No, I ate. And ate, and ate.”
“I’d like to have seen that.” He said the words with quiet sincerity. “Have you ever thought of having another?”
/> “Baby?” she asked, startled, because she had been thinking about that very thing lately. Watching Linda these last few weeks, she’d thought about it a lot. “I used to want one. When Dylan started walking, I used to yearn for another baby to hold and fuss over. They’re so sweet when they’re little.”
“So, why didn’t you?”
Because by then my marriage was falling apart around me. “Another baby would have been a mistake,” she said simply, and felt her heart grieve a little for the children she’d never borne. “Sometimes, though, I regret not giving Dylan a brother or sister. I had one of each, both older, and have always thought every kid should know that.”
“Know what?” he asked.
“The noise and chaos of a big family, friends coming and going, fighting for the last piece of bread at dinner.”
“Waiting in line for the bathroom,” he added.
“Ah, you have siblings too.”
“Three. All girls. All younger.”
Her eyes widened. “I bet you did wait in line for the bathroom.”
“I could write a book about it.” They both laughed, and for a moment, his gaze held hers before he turned his attention back to the road.
That look, while brief, had her heart beating a little too fast. She tried to focus on something other than his nearness. “Speaking of children, is that something you’ve thought about?”
“I have.” He smiled.
“And?”
“I’d like some. Well, one at least.” The smile faded into a frown, as if something about the subject displeased him.
“I’d like to suggest you discuss that with any potential wife candidates before things get too serious.”
“Good idea.”
She watched his frown grow darker and thought about questioning him further, to make sure he knew that children took even more time and commitment than a wife, but decided it could wait. Tonight, as a rare treat, she simply wanted to relax and have a good time.
Chapter 10
*
THE DISTANT STRAINS of music, laughter, and voices caught Kate’s ears the moment Mike opened the door to the Lakeview Inn. The festive sound drew her like an old, favorite song that she’d nearly forgotten.
“Sounds like we’ve got a full house already,” Mike said.
“I thought the party wouldn’t get going till later.” She craned her neck to get a better look at the crowd spilling out of a door at the far end of the lobby. Beyond them, a wall of glass offered a view of the fading sunset reflecting off the lake.
“I guess I forgot the schmooze factor,” Mike confided close to her ear.
“The schmooze factor?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Anytime there’s a Hollywood producer around, you can bet every wannabe actor and scriptwriter within a hundred miles will be crawling out of the woodwork.”
“Hey, Magic Man,” someone called as they neared the door to the bar.
“Hey, Ricky.” Mike raised a hand in greeting as a man in a zoot suit detached himself from the crowd. “I understand congratulations are in order.”
“You better believe it.” Ricky struck a pose with his thumbs behind his lapels. He had the kind of polished good looks that came more from grooming than genes. “You are looking at one gainfully employed movie actor—even if my first role off the stage is a two-minute bit part.”
“Even Kevin Wells had to start somewhere,” Mike pointed out.
“True,” Ricky admitted. “Speaking of, don’t forget you promised to introduce me to him tonight—if he ever shows up. Rumor has it he’s holed up in his room pampering his voice.”
“Kevin Wells?” Kate’s eyes widened at the mention of Hollywood’s newest box-office draw. “He’s going to be here? Tonight?”
“Maybe.” Mike shrugged as if meeting a movie star held little interest. “He plays the owner of the Wild West show.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” His blasé attitude made Kate feel a little foolish for being so excited. But then, who cared? She was there to have fun, and meeting a celebrity would definitely be that.
“I thought I told you,” Mike said absently before turning back to his friend. “Ricky, I want you to meet Kate. Kate, this is Richard Sanchez, president of the Austin Movie Alliance.”
As they shook hands, Ricky leaned back to eye her up and down. “Great look. You in film?”
“Heavens no,” she laughed.
“Kate’s a writer,” Mike elaborated, making her heart skip a beat in panic. Fortunately, he left it at that, without explaining what she wrote. Even so, she tried but failed to catch his eye so she could silently remind him she didn’t want people to know about her column.
“Too bad,” Richard said. “A little peroxide and you’d be a dead ringer for Marilyn Monroe in that outfit.”
The outrageous compliment startled a laugh out of Kate as the three of them moved through the doorway and into the dimly lit wonderland beyond. Overhead, hundreds of star-shaped silver balloons danced along the ceiling, trailing Mylar streamers that flashed like tiny rainbows in the colored lights. From the stage in the corner, a live band pumped out an energetic brand of boot-scootin’ boogie-woogie. The female singer fronting the band made Kate do a double take.
“Goodness,” she said. “Talk about a Marilyn Monroe lookalike.” The woman wore a midnight blue mini-dress that showed off a bombshell body and accentuated her white-blond hair. She belted out the lyrics with a sassy sensuality that somehow stayed fun.
Mike glanced over. “I see they actually got Riley Stone. I’m surprised.”
“Big name?” Kate asked. Now that she knew to expect celebrity appearances, she was surprised that she’d never heard of the singer.
“No. She’s a local, sort of. She sings jazz and blues at the Ol’ Mill Restaurant down in Hope, Texas. That’s where they’re filming a lot of the location shots.
“Really? I haven’t been to Hope in years.”
His eyes widened. “I’m surprised you’ve even heard of the place, much less been there.”
“Every Texan has heard of Hope.”
“Seriously? The place is tiny. As in postage-stamp tiny.”
“More like a postcard,” she corrected. “One of those nostalgic ones with a snapshot of how small Texas towns looked a hundred years ago. When I was in college, that’s where we went to go kicker dancing in the old dance hall.”
“Kicker dancing?” He frowned.
“You know, two-stepping.” She shuffled her feet to demonstrate and her dress swished about her thighs. The simple move brought back memories of all the times she and her college friends had twirled about the dance floor to live music in the historic dance hall. She’d even talked Edward into going with them once. Not that she’d had any luck getting him out on the floor. Looking back, she realized she should have seen his attitude that night as a red flag. She’d excused his refusal to dance as self consciousness, rather than recognizing it for what it really was: condescension. Pushing the memory aside, she eyed Mike. “Do you dance?”
“Like that?” His brows winged up as he tore his gaze from her legs to the people on the floor and chuckled. “Let’s put it this way: I’m willing to give it a try.” His gaze shifted back to her with a teasing smile. “Maybe you can teach me.”
“Or I could help you find a partner,” she said as a pointed reminder of why she was there.
Glancing about she saw they had a wide array of options. The crowd ranged from casual to flamboyant, their energy filling the room. Laughter vied with the music as old friends called out greetings and swapped news. A camera flash drew Kate’s gaze to an area of the room that positively buzzed with excitement.
“Oh my goodness,” she breathed as she saw who stood at the center of the beehive. “Is that Rachel Lee?”
Mike glanced toward the leggy brunette wearing a hint of a dress that made Kate’s outfit seem like a nun’s habit. “That would be her,” Mike confirmed. “Being her usual low-profile self, I see.”
“Is she in the movie?” Kate asked.
“The starring role, even if Kevin gets top billing,” Mike answered.
“Magic Man!” someone called from the buffet table.
Kate raised a brow. “Your nickname, I take it?”
“More of a job title, really.” He guided Kate toward the crowd of people hovering near the generous spread of Mexican food. “Frank,” he said, smiling as he extended his hand toward a short, dark-haired man. “Welcome to Texas.”
Frank juggled his plate of food to exchange handshakes. “I need to talk to you about a problem the animation team has run into. Maybe you could help them work out a bug in their program.”
“Sure. Tell them to call me tomorrow.”
“Oh, so you’re planning to have your phone actually on for a change?”
Mike gave his head a quick shake as if startled. “What, I turn my phone off one time for a few minutes and you freak?”
“If I can’t get in touch with you, that causes delays that eat into my budget.”
“I’m entitled to a life,” Mike argued good naturedly.
“We’re on a schedule. I need—”
“Frank!” Mike interrupted, then laughed. He gave Kate a quick, apologetic glance before turning back to the other man. “It’s a party. Let’s talk shop later.”
“Isn’t that the purpose of a party?” Frank grumbled. “To talk shop, just with food and alcohol?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Let me introduce you to Kate Bradshaw. Kate, Frank Goldstein, the FX supervisor.”
“It’s good to meet you.” She shook his hand cautiously, wondering if she should feel guilty for Mike turning his phone off. Then she dismissed the idea. Mike was right, he was entitled to a life. As for the FX supervisor, he wasn’t a bad looking man, probably in his mid-forties, but his disgruntled expression made him look older.
“Frank’s in charge of coordinating all the effects,” Mike explained, “from animation, makeup, and models, to special camera crews and stunt teams, right down to the final film compositing. It’s his job to make sure we give the art department what they asked for.”
Good Guy Heroes Boxed Set Page 10