by Judy Duarte
“How did you and Rick meet?” Marie asked.
So Rick hadn’t told her? Or did she already have Rick’s story and was trying to get Mallory’s side of it?
Had she noted that Lucas didn’t resemble Mallory at all? And that he looked a lot like Rick?
“We went to high school together,” Mallory said. “And when I moved back to town, I learned that his veterinary clinic was just down the street. We’ve sort of...reconnected.”
“That’s nice.”
Was it? Mallory wasn’t so sure about that. Her feelings kept vacillating between nice and terribly inconvenient.
Had Marie noticed that she kept scanning the yard, looking for Rick? And that she’d often find him gazing at her?
Was Marie curious about why Rick had asked Mallory and Lucas to join him? Was she full of questions? Was she suspicious?
Still, Mallory liked Marie. And the woman didn’t seem gossipy—just genuinely concerned and caring.
“It’s refreshing to see men interacting with kids like that,” Mallory said.
“Hank and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“You must love children.”
“We do. When we got married, we wanted to have a house full of them. But we weren’t able to have any of our own. So we found ways to create a family.”
“Your daughter Bethany is adopted?”
Marie nodded. “She was nearly two when we brought her home from China. But we also consider every one of these young men one of our kids, too. And, at least for today, you and Lucas are part of our brood.”
“Thank-you. I appreciate that.” And as she watched her son run out for a pass, a big old smile pasted on his face, she truly did. It was the happiest she’d seen him in a long time—at least, since Sue had died.
And interestingly enough, for the next couple of hours, Mallory felt like a part of the Lazaro family, too.
* * *
While seated on lawn chairs in the shade of an elm that grew in the Lazaros’ backyard, Rick, Mallory and Lucas ate together. But as soon as Lucas had finished two hot dogs and chugged down most of his punch, he ditched the adults to play with his newfound friends.
“It’s nice to see him having fun with the other boys,” Mallory said. “I haven’t heard him laugh like that in a long time.”
“I figured he’d have a good time,” Rick said.
“You know, I felt a little uneasy about coming today, but you were right. Hank and Marie are really nice. And it’s been so good for Lucas. I’m glad we came.”
Rick knew what she meant. He’d had second thoughts after inviting her and Lucas to join him, too, although he wouldn’t admit it.
It wasn’t as though he’d dreaded being around his old high school flame. On the contrary, he found himself drawn to her. And that was the problem.
They’d made some bad decisions in the past—at least, he had. And now, ten years later, the choices he’d made as a teenager were staring him down—as if there were something he should or could do to make it all right.
He could do something about Lucas, of course, even if he wasn’t quite sure where or how to begin. But there wasn’t much he could do about Mallory—or the dreams he’d once had of creating a life together with her.
As he focused his attention on their son, the oldest of Tom Randall’s boys threw a pass, and Lucas ran to catch it, snagging it before it landed in Marie’s rose garden.
After a few hoots and cheers, the kids came together in a huddle. Then they trotted over to where Tom was talking to Hank.
“Lucas is going to be a good athlete,” Rick said. “He’s quick on his feet and has good hands.”
“He’s bright, too,” Mallory added. “He was in the gifted class in Boston.”
A surge of pride darn near lifted Rick off his seat, even though his only paternal contribution to his point had been a matter of genetics.
Still, when Lucas jogged over to him and Mallory, his blue eyes bright, a smile plastered on his face, Rick couldn’t help feeling almost like a real parent—and the dad in a family of three.
“That was a good catch,” Mallory said.
Lucas brightened even more. “You saw it?”
Before either parent could respond, Tom’s oldest boy ran up and asked, “Hey, Lucas, do you wanna come to the ranch and ride horses with us?”
The younger boy, who’d been on his heels, chimed in. “Yeah! Ask your mom and dad if it’s okay.”
Lucas looked at Rick, then at the other boys and chuckled. “This isn’t my dad. This is Dr. Martinez. He’s just our neighbor and our friend.”
Just? Rick wasn’t sure what he’d expected. But he suddenly felt as inconsequential as a leaky balloon three days after a birthday party.
Still, Jason and Ryan merely took one last gander at Rick, then shook off the confusion with a shrug and accepted the explanation as fact.
“Then is it okay with your mom?” the younger boy asked.
Lucas turned to Mallory, his eyes pleading with her to say yes.
“We’ll see,” she said. “I’ll have to talk to Tom.”
“Cool.” Lucas turned to his new friends. “Come on. Let’s go.”
The boys had no more than run off when Tom Randall sauntered up to Rick and Mallory and issued the invitation himself.
“Jason and Ryan would like Lucas to come to the ranch,” Tom said. “It would be nice if you two brought him out for the day. We could have a picnic by the lake. It’s probably too cold for the kids to swim, but they could fish. Or they could just run around and play.”
Mallory, her cheeks flushed, didn’t answer right away.
Rick figured it was because the invitation had gone out to them as a family unit.
Was she that uneasy being paired up as a couple with him?
“Lucas and I are going to be pretty busy for a while with school and my job interviews,” she finally said. “So I can’t commit to anything now. But it certainly sounds like fun. We’ll have to do that someday.”
Someday.
It was one of those noncommittal words a polite person offered when they didn’t want to commit to anything. But Rick was okay with that. He knew where he stood with her—where he’d always stood.
“All right, then.” Tom offered Mallory a smile, but he took a step back, as if taking the hint that she wasn’t going to get locked into a visit. He nodded toward the kids. “We can talk more about it later. I’ve got to get back to the ranch, so I need to tell the boys it’s time to go.”
Talk about awkward moments.
But if Mallory thought she could keep their relationship a secret, she was wrong.
Fortunately, if anyone here today had guessed that Lucas was actually Rick’s son, they’d had the good sense and decency to keep that thought to themselves.
While Tom walked away, Rick said, “We’d better take off, too. I have to feed the animals.”
“Good idea. There are a few things I need to do, too.” Mallory got to her feet. Then she picked up the empty paper plates and used plasticware and headed toward the house.
As she walked away, Rick scanned the yard, looking for any trash the kids might have left behind.
Attending the barbecue at the Lazaros’ house might have been good for Lucas, but as far as Rick was concerned, it had been a one-shot deal. He wasn’t going to include Lucas and Mallory in any more family-style events.
He was even more convinced that his decision had been the right one when Marie took him aside and made the comment that he knew she’d been dying to say ever since she first laid eyes on Lucas.
“It’s amazing how much Mallory’s son resembles you,” she said.
“Yeah, isn’t it?”
“Mallory said you met at Brighton Valley High.”
Rick didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up two plastic cups nearly full of punch the kids hadn’t finished.
“I saw the way you kept stealing glances at her,” Marie added. “And she kept looking at you, too. It’s obvious that whatever you felt for each other is still burning bright.”
Rick forced a smile and chuckle. “You’re imagining things. We’re just friends.”
In fact, it could even be argued that they no longer had any kind of relationship at all.
Marie placed a gentle hand on Rick’s back. “It’s not easy to get over your first love.”
At that, he actually laughed, although he thought it might have come out a little hollow. “I’m afraid you’ve been watching too much of the Hallmark Channel. Besides, Mallory has a boyfriend.”
Then he headed for the house before she could share any more of her observations with him. Because no matter what she sensed, what she thought she saw, he’d never stood a chance with Mallory.
Her grandfather was a retired minister, for goodness’ sake. And Rick had always suspected that the old man thought even the high school valedictorian, who’d gone to Harvard, wouldn’t have been good enough for her.
So Rick was back to plan A, which was to distance himself from Mallory for a while. He’d take her and Lucas home, then pour himself into his work.
Maybe next weekend, they could tell Lucas together that Rick was his father. Then Rick could begin to build some kind of relationship with his son—minus Mallory, of course.
It was a good plan. And one that he vowed to stick to.
That is, until he strode through the sliding door and into the Lazaros’ kitchen, just as Mallory was walking out.
And bam!
They ran smack dab into each other with a thump, throwing her completely off balance and splattering red punch all over.
She probably ought to thank her lucky stars—or maybe he ought to thank his—that he grabbed her, because she might have fallen to the ground if he hadn’t.
And for a moment, as he held her in his arms, as he inhaled her soft, floral scent, as their gazes locked, the years rolled away and they were kids again—hearts racing, hormones pumping—and with eyes only for each other.
Chapter Six
Mallory’s pulse raced dangerously out of control, and not only because of her collision with Rick and her near fall to the floor. It was because she’d found herself wrapped in his embrace, his forearm tucked under her breast, his breath warm against her ear, his musky scent filling her lungs, squeezing the heart right out of her.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
About what? Saving her from a fall? Or running into her and nearly causing her to fall in the first place?
She blinked, regaining her thoughts and her senses, then straightened.
“Don’t slip,” he said, as he slowly released her and helped her stand upright. “There’s punch all over the floor.”
She glanced down at the two empty plastic cups, as well as the red liquid pooled on the ceramic tile. Then, as her gaze lifted, she noticed the bright red splatter that ran the length of Rick’s white button-down shirt, which had looked sharp and been crisply pressed when he’d picked her and Lucas up earlier today.
“Oh, no,” she said. “That stain is going to set if you don’t treat it right away.”
“I’ll soak it when I get home. At least we managed to keep it off your dress.”
He said it as if he’d gone to great measures to take the spill on her behalf, although she doubted that was the case.
Or had he? He’d certainly kept her from falling.
She took another look at his shirt. Cold water alone wasn’t going to do it. She wondered what kind of stain remover he had, although she supposed that was the least of her problems.
Truly, all she really wanted to do was to go home, as they’d been planning to do when this unfortunate collision had occurred, and forget the way her body still reacted to Rick’s touch.
When Marie came along with a roll of paper towels, as well as a wet rag, Mallory stepped out of the way. The older woman quickly cleaned up the spill, all the while making light of the incident and the resulting mess.
And in the scheme of things, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Really.
Yet Mallory’s heart continued to tumble in her chest as if it was trying to make sense of it all, the arousing zing of Rick’s touch, the blood-stirring allure of his scent....
She really needed to shake it off.
“Is there something I can do to help?” Mallory asked, thinking that her pulse rate would go back to normal if she had a job to do, one that removed her from Rick’s immediate proximity.
“No, not a thing,” Marie said. “Hank and I have our party cleanup down to a science.”
So, after saying a second goodbye, Rick and Mallory gathered up Lucas, who’d made plans to meet Jason and Ryan near the handball court before the first bell rang on Monday morning, then they headed for Rick’s truck and started the short trip home.
The drive back to her house was quiet and solemn. She had no idea what was on Rick’s mind, but she couldn’t help wondering if they were pondering the same things—the family time they’d spent while eating, the intimacy of the collision in the kitchen.
What was going on?
When we open our hearts to love and forgiveness, things have a way of working out just the way they’re supposed to.
Was there something to what Marie had said? Did beauty actually come from ashes?
When they arrived at Mallory’s house, they got out of the truck, and Rick walked them to the front door—just as though they’d been on a date.
No, not like a date. They’d had Lucas with them. They’d taken him to meet some new friends so his first day of school would go easier. It had all been very innocent and platonic.
“Thanks for taking us to the barbecue,” Lucas said. “I really liked your friends, Dr. Martinez.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you went with me and that you enjoyed the kids and people you met.”
They paused on the stoop, and as Mallory looked at Rick, she couldn’t help but notice the bright red splatter of punch that marred his shirt and felt a bit responsible for it being there.
She unlocked the front door. “Lucas, why don’t you go inside and take a shower.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because it’s time for you to clean up and to wind down for the day. If you do it now, we can make some popcorn and watch a movie together this evening.”
He seemed to think about that for a moment, then relented. “Okay.”
After saying goodbye to Rick, Lucas went in the house.
“Thanks again for inviting us today. You were right about the Lazaros. I’m glad I had a chance to meet them.”
Rick tossed her a boyish grin. “Yeah, well, I thought that if you knew I had better friends these days it might make you feel better about letting Lucas spend time with me.”
She returned his smile. “I’d already made that assumption.”
There it went again, that annoying awkwardness that settled over them whenever they were alone. Well, Mallory would just have to chase it off by ending their day. But as her gaze drifted down to the red punch drying into the white fabric of his shirt, she had second thoughts about an immediate escape.
“You know,” she said, “I have an awesome laundry product that works on all kinds of stains. Why don’t you let me wash that shirt for you?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
No, she didn’t. But it seemed like the right thing to offer, the natural thing to suggest.
“You paid for the mess your dog made on my carpet,” she explained. “And I have to admit, I should have noticed you coming through that doorway with those plastic cups i
n your hand.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You don’t mind?”
What would a simple act of neighborly kindness hurt?
“No, I don’t mind at all.”
“Okay.” He began to pull the shirttails out of the waistband of his pants. “I can come by for it tomorrow— or whenever it’s convenient.”
Washing his shirt was one thing, but having Rick stop by on Sunday was another. Knowing Lucas, he’d invite the good animal doctor to stay for dinner, and she couldn’t allow things to get any cozier between the three of them than they already had.
“Tomorrow won’t work,” she said. “I’m going to visit my grandfather. They’re talking about discharging him, so I’m going to spend the afternoon making sure his apartment is ready and that he has the nursing assistance he’s going to need. Why don’t I drop off the shirt on Monday morning, after I take Lucas to school?”
“All right. But I feel a little weird undressing out here.”
She didn’t blame him for that. “Come on inside. You can use the downstairs bathroom.”
Once he’d entered the living room, she pointed out the door he should use. Rick began to unbutton his shirt, starting at the top and going down until it opened all the way. She watched, almost mesmerized, until he disappeared into the bathroom.
Moments later, he stepped out, tall, lean and bare-chested. Rick Martinez had definitely grown up and filled out in the nicest way. And as he handed her the stained shirt, her tummy clenched and an ache settled deep in her core.
A familiar ache.
An unwelcome ache.
Why hadn’t she volunteered to pick up his shirt on Monday? Allowing him to leave it here tonight and letting him go home half-dressed had been a bad idea. A very bad idea.
She took the shirt from him, then nodded toward the door. “I’d better check on Lucas. And I’ll drop the shirt off at your office when it’s clean.”
“All right. I’ll see you Monday.”
She told him goodbye, and as soon as he stepped outside, she shut the door before she did something crazy like ask him if he wanted a cup of coffee or a glass of wine.