by Lee McKenzie
“And I’m a terrible housekeeper, I second-guess every parenting decision I make and I can’t get my four-year-old to stop sucking her thumb.” He’d never said those things out loud to anyone, and he hoped they didn’t sound as pathetic to her as they did to him
“Kids don’t come with a how-to manual. We have to follow our instincts and not be afraid to ask for help or advice when we need it. Jenna used to suck her thumb, too. I asked our pediatrician about it, and he told me it was perfectly normal and that kids grow out of it. And you know what? He was right. I can’t remember when she stopped, but it feels like forever ago.”
“Thanks. I needed to hear that.” Would Alice back off if he mentioned the pediatrician?
Everything he’d ever attempted had come easily. Academia was second nature. He’d sailed through graduate school with high marks and scholarships. He got the first faculty position he applied for. He’d never failed at anything except marriage and parenthood. Talking to Kristi about it made him feel as though he was doing an okay job after all.
He was glad she had asked about Heather, and he was damn glad he’d asked about what she’d said on the phone. Now he was done talking. He and Kristi were sitting angled in their seats, facing one another, her hand still on his. He touched her arm, her skin soft and smooth beneath his fingers. It wasn’t enough. He followed the warmth till his hand found the curve of her neck beneath the soft weight of her hair, and when he leaned closer, she did the same. The move caused his hand to slide a little higher, his thumb now resting on the smoothness of her cheek.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to because her eyes told him everything he wanted to know. If he kissed her right now, she would let him. Would it be a mistake to end a fake date with a real kiss? Of course it would. Did he care? Hell no.
The kiss, at first too tentative to be considered intimate, quickly turned into an exploration, an intoxicating mix of taste and touch. Her luscious scent rushed through him, and then she wound her arms around his neck as though they belonged there. A first kiss had a steep learning curve. He wanted this one to be perfect, and it was. He wanted it not to end, but it did.
“Wow.” The single word floated past her lips and brushed over his.
“You took the word right out of my mouth.”
The coach lanterns on the front of the garage cast enough light that he could see her smile.
“No regrets, I hope.”
She shook her head. “None.”
“We should go in.”
“We should.” Neither of them moved. Instead she nestled her head against his shoulder, and he wished the narrow space separating them wasn’t taken up by the e-brake and stick shift. He wanted to touch her in places he shouldn’t, and he wanted her to do the same for him.
If he’d been capable of using his head, he might have helped her out of the car and put an end to this fake date. But he wasn’t thinking, at least not with his head. He kissed her again, a longer, deeper kiss that shut down the rest of his brain cells.
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you still have that condom in your purse.”
She pulled away. “Seriously? A couple of kisses and you think, you think—?”
Shit. He wanted to smack his head on the steering wheel. “Sorry. I think it’s safe to say I wasn’t thinking.”
“But you think that because I’m a single mom, and because I had a condom in my bag that I’m…what? Easy?”
“I did not think that.” Not completely. They’d just met, he hadn’t known anything about her and he had sort of wondered. “I figured you were seeing someone.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“I know that now. And I think we agree that I’m an idiot?” A complete idiot who hadn’t been with a woman in a very long time.
“Agreed. And for the record, I had a perfectly good reason for having that condom in my bag. And no, I don’t have it with me now.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation—”
“Well, you’re getting one. I signed up for a parenting class on how to have ‘the talk’ with kids.”
“The talk?”
“The facts of life, the birds and bees…sex, birth control, abstinence.”
Ah, that talk.
“My daughter is fourteen—she’s getting interested in boys.” She sighed as she said it. “Even worse, boys are interested in her. Mostly I want to talk to her about not getting involved with boys, not that way. She’s way too young. But I also want her to know how to be safe, how to protect herself. How not to make the same mistakes I made.”
“They have classes for that?”
“They do. I’m afraid I’m not a very good student, though. Jenna and I still haven’t had the talk, which is why I was still carrying the stupid condom around with me.”
Apparently the serotonin was wearing off and his brain was starting to function again. He wanted to ask how the condom factored into the talk but didn’t dare ask. And then he experienced a mild sense of panic at the thought of someday having to have the talk with Molly and Martha. Luckily he had ten years to figure out how to handle that.
“Don’t they tell kids about stuff like this in school?” One could always hope.
“They teach the biology of how it all works, but it’s up to parents to help their kids make the decisions that are best for them.”
Okay, that made sense, although it didn’t make him any more confident about someday having to have this conversation with his own daughters. Maybe it would be easier if he’d had sons instead. No, it wouldn’t. Not if his father was any kind of example. There had been no father-son talk. His dad had left his and Britt’s upbringing to their mother, who’d been a stay-at-home mom and a great one at that. There’d been plenty of talk about treating girls well, being polite, being a gentleman. Looking back, he was damn sure his mother’s between-the-lines message had been to avoid all situations that called for condoms.
“So in this parenting class, they give you all the information you need to have this conversation with your teenager?”
“Yes. They gave us pamphlets to help us talk to our kids about preventing STDs, unplanned pregnancies. The only problem is…” She paused, looked down at her hands now folded primly in her lap. “I haven’t figured out how to initiate the conversation, and I’m not looking forward to demonstrating how to use a condom.”
Surprise didn’t come close to describing his reaction. “Demonstrate?”
“With a banana.”
Laughter was not an appropriate adult response, but he couldn’t help himself. “I thought stuff like that only happened on TV.”
“I wish.” She was laughing, too. “Now you know why I had a condom in my bag. And that I’m not as great a mom as I’d like to be.”
“Don’t.” He held a finger to her lips. “You’re smart, beautiful, and I can tell that you’re a wonderful mom. You know exactly what you need to do with your daughter, and I envy that.” He pulled his hand away and gave her a light, lingering kiss.
“Speaking of parents and kids, we should go inside and see how ours are doing.”
She was right. He’d rather be alone with her, wanted to kiss her again, but he’d already moved too fast.
“The house is still standing…there were no frantic phone calls. Everything must have gone well.”
“They’re fine,” Kristi said, looking a little sheepish. “I called Jenna earlier, from the powder room.”
And there it was, proof th
at she was a better parent than he was, or at least a more conscientious one. It hadn’t even occurred to him to call. Fake dates aside, it was good that Kristi had come into his life. He had a lot to learn.
* * *
KRISTI CLOSED THE front door of the town house, flipped the dead bolt home and let Hercules out of his carrier.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Jenna said.
“I’m tired.” It was true. Who knew a fake date followed by a very real good-night kiss could crowd her thoughts and sap her energy? “It’s been a busy week and I’m not used to being out this late.” She pulled off her shoes and set them on the hall bench with her handbag. She was ready to turn in.
“Lots of nights you’re up way later than this, sewing or working on one of your designs.” Jenna scooped the dog into her arms and carried him into the kitchen. “And we could have been home half an hour ago if you guys hadn’t been making out in the driveway.”
“Jenna! Where did you get an idea like that?”
“I heard Nate’s car pull into the driveway…you can hear one of those Beetles coming a mile away…but it was twenty minutes before you came inside.”
Damn. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that Jenna might hear the car. So much for setting a good example. “We were talking.”
She followed her daughter into the kitchen in time to catch her rolling her eyes.
“It wasn’t a date and we weren’t…” Yes, it was. And yes, you were.
“He seems nice.” Jenna got a bottle of water out of the fridge and unscrewed the cap.
“He is nice. And we’re invited to have Sunday brunch with his family,” Kristi said, hoping to change the subject.
“Cool.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not if you don’t mind me tagging along on one of your dates.” Jenna grinned as she took a sip of water.
There was no point persisting with an argument she couldn’t win. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
“Studying for one more final. Math.” She wrinkled her nose. “And then Abbie and I want to go to the mall in the afternoon. Can you drop me off? Her mom said she’ll bring me home?”
These days Jenna and her best friend were spending a lot of time with two boys named Matt and Jordan. According to the parenting class, there was safety in numbers. Did four hormonal teenagers constitute sufficient numbers to ensure safety?
“Will it just be you and Abbie?”
“Don’t know. Probably.”
“I need to work for a couple of hours tomorrow. I suggested that Nate buy a new sofa for his family room—”
“Good idea. The one he has now is pretty gross. The cushions are all squishy, and the material on one of the arms is nearly worn off.”
“He said Gemmy chewed on it when she was a puppy. Which is why he’s agreed to buy a new one. It’ll really spruce up the family room, and he can take it to their new house.”
Jenna absently stroked the top of Hercules’s head. “It’s weird that he’d want to sell it. Did you know there’s a pool in the backyard? I would kill to live in a house like that.”
That makes two of us, Kristi thought, although she would never let Jenna think she was anything but completely content with their town house. “Will you stay with the girls for a couple of hours in the morning? Sam will be there, too. She’s going to start painting.”
“I guess. What about the mall?”
It seemed like a fair exchange. “You help out in the morning and I’ll drive you to the mall in the afternoon.”
“It’s a deal. Can I take my study notes to Nate’s?”
“Can you study and keep an eye on the girls at the same time?”
“No problem. They’re pretty cute kids and they keep each other entertained.”
Molly and Martha had completely different personalities, but they were very close. That was probably normal for twins, but it might also have something to do with growing up without a mom. Kristi’s chest tightened, as it had when Nate told her how his wife died. So sad.
“They are pretty adorable.” Kristi stifled a yawn. “I think I’ll turn in.” She would take her laptop with her and go over her notes for tomorrow to make sure she had everything she needed.
“I’m going to see what’s on TV.”
“Don’t be up too late. I’d like to get an early start in the morning.”
Upstairs, she slipped out of the green dress that had been such a hit with Nate’s mother and sister, and pulled on an old T-shirt and a pair of boxers. After she removed her makeup and brushed out her hair, she climbed into bed, turned on her computer and opened the file for Nate’s house. She absently scrolled through her lists and photographs, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
The kiss had been an unexpected but welcome end to their this-is-not-a-date date, and if any other man had asked if she had a condom, she’d be heading for the hills by now. Instead he had opened the door to a conversation about parenting that they might not have had otherwise. She was glad he’d talked to her. He had everything going for him—intelligence, incredible good looks, confidence—and yet when it came to raising his kids, by his own admission, he second-guessed every decision. Even worse, she suspected he had some residual guilt over his wife’s death. The mother-in-law who had donated a kidney and lost her daughter anyway might have something to do with that.
Kristi thought back to her brief marriage to Jenna’s father. Derek hadn’t taken responsibility for anything, not even the condom that, looking back, he had most likely been carrying around in his wallet for months. No wonder the stupid thing hadn’t worked. Did he ever feel guilty for bringing Jenna into the world and then bailing on her and her mother? If he did, he sure never let on. They hadn’t heard from him since he’d called the day after Christmas. He wasn’t working—no surprise there—so he had no money for gifts, although judging by his slurred words and the raucous racket in the background, there was money for partying. Not wanting to listen to his usual string of flimsy excuses, she had handed the phone over to Jenna.
Their conversation had been short and, as was always the case, Jenna didn’t want to talk about it afterward. Kristi prided herself on having a good relationship with her daughter. She worked hard to maintain it and it broke her heart that in this one area, perhaps the one that mattered most, Jenna refused to open up. Kristi had always been careful not to say anything negative about him, in spite of the fact that Derek really was a deadbeat.
The opposite of Nate in pretty well every way possible. Thankfully he’d called her on the deadbeat reference because she would hate for him to believe that’s what she thought of him. When it came to measuring a man’s character, Nate and Derek were at opposite ends of the yardstick.
She turned off her laptop, set it on the nightstand and snuggled in between the sheets. Until tonight, she would have told herself that Nate McTavish’s parenting skills were none of her business. That kiss had changed everything.
No, not everything. She was a single mom, determined as ever to set an example for her teenage daughter. A single mom who didn’t need a man in her life. But she could still help Nate see that he was doing a great job as a single dad. And if that involved another kiss, or two, so be it.
Chapter Seven
Sam’s old utility truck was parked in front of Nate’s house when Kristi and Jenna arrived the next morning.
“Cool,” Jenna said as they pulled up behind it. “Do you think she brought her little boy with her?”<
br />
“No, he’s at home with his father, or maybe the nanny. Won’t you have your hands full with the twins?”
“I guess. He’s about their age, though. I bet they’d get along great.”
True. But Sam would be working, so the twins and the two dogs would be plenty of responsibility for Jenna, especially if she planned to study, too.
“Can you carry Hercules in with you? I’ll get my bag out of the back.”
Inside, Sam’s toolboxes and the wallpaper steamer lined one side of the foyer. In the family room the TV was on, the tent flap was open and the sofa bed had been unfolded. Nate had said he would sleep there, closer to the girls. Gemmy was sprawled on the bed. Nate and the girls were nowhere to be seen, but Molly’s and Martha’s voices drifted in through the open patio door. They were in their playhouse, Kristi guessed, and Nate would be in his greenhouse.
Jenna set the pet carrier on the sofa bed and unzipped it. “Here we are, Herc. Come on out and see your girlfriend.”
The huge dog sat up, making the springs sag. Hercules popped his head out and Gemmy’s ears perked forward.
“It’s kind of cute that they get along so well,” Jenna said.
That was true. Last night Kristi and Nate had come home and been amused to find the dogs curled up together in Gemmy’s bed, a snarl of tattered blankets in the corner of the family room.
“Would you go out and let Nate and the girls know we’re here? I need to talk to Sam about today’s work plan.”
“Will do.” Jenna dumped her math books on the bed next to Hercules’s carrier, gave each dog a treat and headed outside.
Kristi found Sam in the girls’ bedroom, kneeling on the floor, unscrewing the covers of the electrical outlets and dumping them in a small plastic bucket.
“Good morning. You’re an early bird.”
Sam checked her watch and grinned. “And you’re not.”
“Very funny. I said we’d be here by nine, and we almost made it.”