One Daddy Too Many

by Debra Salonen

  “Well, okay. I did want to be here when Mom shows up. She sounded rather blue on the phone. Is there something she’s not telling me?”

  Kate shook her head. “I don’t think so. But you know Jo. There are times I swear she and Maya are related. They’re both bullheaded.”

  She followed him to his car and watched him toss his wet shoes into the trunk. He dug through his suitcase for a change of clothes. Maybe it was seeing the suitcase—a reminder that people come and people go—that made her say, “Um, Rob, I’m going to go check on Maya, but would you do me a favor?”

  “Of course. What?”

  “Would you let me borrow your truck?”

  “Any time.”

  “This afternoon? After the party?”

  “Sure. It’s still at Mom’s. She can run me over to pick it up after she gets here.”

  “No. Your mom has been working overtime. She needs a break. I’ll go with you. If Maya’s feeling okay by then. If not, then maybe tomorrow.”

  He didn’t ask any questions. Which was good. Since Kate had no idea why she needed the truck—only that borrowing it gave her a plausible excuse to spend time with him. Alone.

  ROB WENT THROUGH the motions on autopilot. He survived his friends’ congratulatory accolades, endured every handshake and pat on the back that came his way and even delivered a lecture that made every parent hug his or her kid tightly.

  But inside, he felt numb.

  As soon as he could, he escaped to the guest bathroom. Locking the door behind him, he leaned on the counter—just as his knees buckled. A wave of nausea passed over him.

  Was this any way for a hero to act? But this hero was also scared spitless. Questions shot through his mind like ricocheting bullets. What if he hadn’t looked for her? What if she’d bumped her head on the wall? What if she’d swallowed too much water to be resuscitated?

  He fought back the taste of bile and squeezed his eyes to keep the tears inside. A light knock on the door shook him out of what he assumed was some kind of post-traumatic shock. “Just a minute.”

  He hastily ran a faucet and splashed water on his face. Then he opened the door.

  And looked down. Maya.

  “Hi, sweet girl, how are you? Is your throat better?”

  She nodded and held out her arms to be picked up. He was happy to oblige, but assumed she wanted to sit on the counter so she could talk to him on the same level. She was wearing a matching short set that had purple butterflies set against a yellow background.

  She coughed delicately. “Grandma said that after I thanked you for saving me, I needed to ’pologize for scaring you. She said you looked ten years older when you came out of the pool with me in your arms.”

  Rob poked his head into the hall to see if Yetta was nearby. No one else was present, although he could hear the sound of voices coming from the backyard.

  “Well, she’s right,” he admitted, stepping back into the room. Her mass of curls had dried in wild disarray that reminded him of her mother. She was going to be a beauty someday, just like Kate. The sudden image of her struggling in the water sliced through him.

  He swallowed hard against the constriction in his throat and looked down. “I was just checking for gray hairs. Do you see any?”

  Her nose crinkled and she motioned for him to lean closer. Her tiny fingers carefully parted his hair. “Nope. Not yet.”

  “Good.”

  He started to straighten but her hands on his shoulders stopped him. “I’m sorry about your shoes.” Tears filled her brown eyes. “They really didn’t squeak. I just said that because…I don’t know why, but I didn’t mean it.”

  He pulled her against him and gently comforted her. His heart was dissolving and he could barely breathe but he managed to say, “It’s okay. I didn’t like them anyway.”

  Blinking, she looked up. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Hey, I just remembered a joke. Why is six afraid of seven?”

  She thought a moment then shook her head. “I dunno. Why?”

  “Because seven…eight…nine.”

  It was too old for her, he realized too late. He didn’t know anything about kids. He was retarded. Asinine.

  Then suddenly she started to giggle. “Seven ate nine,” she repeated softly as her laughter grew. “That’s funny. You’re funny. I love you, Rob.”

  “I love you, too, Maya.”

  She looked at the floor. “I told a fib earlier. Daddy and Mommy aren’t going to have two babies and call them twins.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mommy said Daddy has to go into grown-up time-out again because he took me without permission. And when he comes back, he might not live here any more. He might go somewhere else.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t say anything for a minute, then she scooted forward and slipped to her feet. “Wait right there. Don’t even move.”

  No problem. He wasn’t sure his legs were working.

  She returned a few seconds later, carrying a piece of white construction paper the size of a legal pad. “Here,” she said, handing him the artwork. “This is for you. To put on your refrigerator.”

  “Thank you. It’s beautiful,” he said, admiring the vivid primary colors.

  “These are the people in my family,” she said. “Well, not all of them.”

  Just four, in fact. A stick-figure girl with long brown curls. A mommy figure that actually resembled Kate somehow. And two men. One stood with Kate and Maya. The other was alone on the opposite side of the page, loosely connected by a bright wiggly yellow line.

  The solitary figure wore a gaudy green-and-purple tie.

  Before he could ask her to decipher the image for him, she said, “I have to go back to the party. My Auntie Grace is coming. ’Bye.”

  She was gone in a blink. Rob studied the painting a few minutes more, then carefully rolled it up and took it outside to his car.

  On his way back to the house, another car pulled into the driveway. Nikolai, whom Rob had met during the Charles Harmon debacle, was behind the wheel. Grace leaned out the passenger window and waved with her usual exuberant style.

  “Hey there, Rob, I hear you’re a real live hero,” she called. “If my sister doesn’t marry you, she’s an idiot.”

  And hope, despite his qualms about his place in Maya’s painting, blossomed in his heart. With Grace in his corner, maybe he had a chance to convince Kate they truly did belong together.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “The key is inside. Do you want to wait here or come in?”

  Rob’s plan to talk to Kate yesterday after the party had been sidelined. First, there’d been the necessary rehashing of his rescue of Maya for the newcomers, Grace and Nikolai, who had heard the short version on the phone but had demanded blow-by-blow details. Then, there’d been food, conversation, a guys-versus-gals game of water polo and more food. Then, dancing.

  Amazing dancing.

  Rob had been mesmerized when four nymphs in belly-dancer costumes had appeared in the twilight. He’d been sitting with his mother when the music started. He couldn’t quite define the sound—part flamenco, part Middle Eastern rhythms. Their costumes shimmered with gold coins and glittering jewels woven into sheer fabric. Bright scarves fluttered as curvaceous hips oscillated in tempo.

  While the performance could be rated PG, his desire for one of the dancers was anything but. Evocative images had toyed with him all night, dancing on naked feet through his dreams. He’d awoken cranky and exhausted from chasing an elusive sprite who remained just out of arm’s reach.

  The same sprite who’d called at nine. “I still need to borrow your truck. Can I come over?”

  Now, she was at his door. Dressed in snug black shorts and a wine polo shirt with Romantique appliquéd on the pocket. “I’ll come in.”

  He backed up, nearly stumbling over his suitcase, which he’d dropped inside the entry without bothering to unpack. Today was Sunday. His list of things to do covered t
wo pages—single-space, but he couldn’t get his mind in gear. “I should have asked you to bring me a cup of coffee.”

  “Ahem.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Black. One sugar. I called your mom to ask,” she said.

  He blinked twice. How had he missed the grande cup from his favorite coffee shop in her outstretched hand? She must think I’m some kind of head case. “Perfect.”

  He walked to the suite’s sliding glass door and pushed it open to give some light to the dim, suddenly claustrophobic-feeling room. The place was just as he’d left it. Neat. Orderly. Impersonal. “Have a seat.”

  Maya’s painting was facedown on the coffee table, right where he’d left it. He’d spent an hour studying the artwork trying to decipher any message she might have intended for him. Ultimately, he’d reminded himself that she was four—and no Picasso.

  He slid it to one side as Kate sat down across from him.

  “Sorry about yesterday. Things got pretty crazy after Grace and Nick arrived. I didn’t have a chance to talk to you much.”

  Whatever she was drinking came with a straw, so he assumed it wasn’t hot. “She looks really happy. And I enjoyed talking to Nick. He’s an interesting guy. Sounds like he might get that promotion.”

  “Speaking of promotions, I’m still waiting to hear about what happened in San Francisco.”

  “I met with a lot of people, including the Realtor who wanted to sell my condo. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I decided to take another look at that house we saw,” he said. “I called when I got to town yesterday to see if it was still on the market. It is. I made an appointment to see it again today. I was kinda hoping you and Maya might go with me.”

  She sat forward. “Excuse me?”

  “I thought it had a lot of potential. Open floor plan. Big backyard. If I remember correctly, there was even a kennel area. I liked it, but you know what a terrible shopper I am.”

  “K…kennel?”

  “You like dogs, don’t you?”

  “Of course, but…you’re staying? In Vegas? Your mother said you had a fabulous job offer. The kind nobody in their right mind could turn down.”

  He took a fortifying gulp of coffee. “Whoever said I was playing with a full deck?”

  Her laugh was light. Its echo danced down his spine. Could he live the rest of his life without her laugh? A simple question, when you came right down to it. And the answer was no. He couldn’t. No company car, healthy raise and well-padded expense account was worth it. Even the thought of wearing socks and a sweater in the middle of summer couldn’t compare to Kate’s laugh.

  But could he convince Kate he was the man for her? He had the rest of his life to try.

  “The truck keys,” he said, starting toward his bedroom, where he remembered seeing the extra set. “What did you say you needed the truck for? Not that it’s any of my business, but if you’re moving something heavy, I’d be glad to help.”

  Kate followed behind him. “Um…actually, I’ve been wracking my brain the whole way here trying to come up with a good excuse, but I don’t have one.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s not the truck I want. It’s you. Damn, that sounds needy, doesn’t it?”

  “It sounds pretty good to me.”

  “It does?”

  He nodded.

  She smiled and shrugged. “I missed you. And things got kinda crazy right before you left. I didn’t have a sense of where…where we stood.”

  “I know. When the partners showed up, my gut response was to protect my people. Believe me, that was a first. Before I moved here, the only person I thought about was me.”

  “I don’t believe that. You’re caring and kind and I know perfectly well the reason you booked your dad’s wedding at Romantique had nothing to do with protecting your company’s butt. You’re a good man, Rob, and, frankly, I find that very sexy.”

  She moved close enough to touch her temple against his so their eyelashes touched in the corners. “And you’re a teacher. My first crush was on my fourth-grade teacher, Mr. Walder.”

  She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth.

  Rob stepped back. “I…wait…um…wait.” Then he dashed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He could hear Kate’s chuckle follow after him. He felt stupid and flustered and dangerously aroused. What about his pledge to take things slow? For Kate’s sake and Maya’s.

  When he walked back into the room, Kate was sitting demurely on his rumpled bed. Her right hand was holding his pillow as if she’d just crushed it to her chest to inhale his smell. His mouth went dry.

  “Come here, you.” The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

  He crossed the room in three steps and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Kate,” he said, tossing his agenda to the wind. “I love you more than anyone or anything I’ve ever known in my life. I can’t imagine—”

  She didn’t let him finish. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her mouth spelled out the words she didn’t say back to him. It was enough. For now.

  Neither bothered with finesse while undressing. Clothes flew in different directions. One of her shoes narrowly missed the television set.

  “You’re sure about this?” he asked.

  “Yes, Rob, I’m finally on the right road,” she said, kneeling on the bed and drawing him to her.

  He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to hold her again. He ran his hands down the length of her back, feeling the velvet smoothness of her skin. Then he retraced the path upward to her hair.

  “I need this loose and free.”

  Instead of taking out the ponytail herself, she turned sideways toward him then tilted her head. “Do it for me.”

  In profile, he saw her small but perfectly shaped breasts. He loved the way they turned up slightly, the nipples perky and pointed. Her belly wasn’t as flat as say a model’s might be, but this belly was perfect, considering it had once nurtured a baby. Her butt was one of his favorite parts of her body.

  After inching the rubber band from her unruly curls, he brushed the heavy hair aside and started nibbling kisses downward from the base of her neck. His tongue flicked across her shoulder bone.

  “You carry such a heavy load on these shoulders.” What will it take to let me share it? he wondered, but didn’t ask.

  She moved against him, her buttocks brushing his erection.

  His need jumped up a notch, but he wasn’t a greedy lover. He wanted her to share the pleasure. He took her hands and put them on her breasts while his hand trailed down her belly to the triangle of dark curls. She responded with a shaky whimper. Her head went back to rub against his as she moved in harmony to his strokes. When her breathing became fast and broken, he stopped.

  She let out a little cry but he caught it with his mouth. “Now. Please.”

  He moved away far enough to reach the second drawer in his vanity and withdrew a package of condoms. He opened one and sheathed himself. “Whatever you say, princess.”

  Kate butted him gently with her head until he was on his back. Her hair framed her face as she straddled him. The room was light and filled with green and the scent of human heat and lust.

  She lifted up, taking him in. Arching her back, she rocked her hips in rhythmic circles that made him start to pant.

  Life had changed since Mesquite and their lovemaking mirrored those changes. Kate seemed less playful, more intense. Rob tried to pour every ounce of emotion that he was feeling into the moment.

  They joined together as if suspended in a world of their own making. And it was perfect.

  “I love you,” she said softly against his chest once their breathing started to return to normal.

  “It’s about time you said the words. I was starting to feel used,” he said, turning his head so she could see he was teasing.

  “I didn’t want to make another mistake,” she admitted.

  He knew exactly what she meant
. He kissed her, then said, “I know. I’m big on perfection, too. But being afraid to fail is almost worse than failure. As my favorite philosopher once told me, you can’t win if you don’t play the game.”

  “Well, I’m in the game now. And, in case nobody warned you, I’m a helluva shark. I like to win.”

  “What’s the bet?”

  “Everything.”

  Then she rolled to her side, taking him with her. “What time is your appointment?”

  He froze, mid-nibble, then looked at the bedside clock. His muttered curse told her playtime was over. “Will you go with me?” he asked. “I mean only an idiot would buy a woman a house without getting her okay first, right?”

  She lifted up on her elbows. “What?”

  His mouth was suddenly dry. “I know this is moving pretty fast, but I’m sick of living in a motel and I have all this cash to reinvest…”

  Shut up, already. You’re going to blow it. A woman needed hearts and flowers—romance—when a guy proposed to her. He sat up abruptly and turned so his feet were on the floor. He was about to get up when he glanced out the door and spotted Maya’s painting on the coffee table.

  Forgetting he was naked, he dashed into the living area and picked it up. “Your daughter gave this to me. As a thank-you, I guess. But talk about mixed signals. Can you tell me what it means?”

  Kate took the paper from his fingers and spread it on the bed. “Alex told me about this one.”

  Because he felt raw and exposed, he pulled on a pair of boxers before sitting down beside her. He pointed to the single figure—a guy in the flashy tie, embarrassed by the way his finger trembled.

  She must have noticed because she picked up his hand and kissed the tip before putting the index finger back down so it rested on the image of the family group. “This is you,” she said with a smile. “The man standing alone is Ian.”

  “But he’s wearing my tie.”

  She made a face. “God, I hope not. You have way better taste than that.”

  The little joke broke the tension just enough that he could let out the breath he’d been holding. “I don’t get it. I would have thought she pictured me as a guy in a suit.”