The Mommy Plan

by Susan Gable

  “The dinner. Molly’s been ragging me about that. She says I can’t disappoint Rachel.”

  “So don’t. Take her out, have a few glasses of wine, enjoy yourself. You remember how to enjoy yourself, don’t you? I wonder if she does?”

  Hmm. James wondered that himself. She’d been through so much. “And what do I do with my daughter while I’m off enjoying myself?”

  Nolan sent another rock skittering across the lake surface. “She has a sleepover with Cherish, naturally.” Blond hair glinted in the sun as he shook his head. “Do I have to teach you everything, Jim? ’Sakes, Cherish has a sleepover at a friend’s at least once a week if I have any say in it.” He grinned.

  The idea had merit, and it certainly was tempting. The very image of a seminormal, grown-up evening glimmered before him, a candlelit dinner with a pretty lady, maybe hold her close and dance… maybe more?

  Was he Super Dad? Or was there still part of him that was just a man?

  It could be exactly what Rachel needed, a chance to get away from the camp and all the reminders of transplants and her lost son. But did he dare leave Molly alone for the night? It wasn’t as if he were leaving her with her grandparents while he worked with patients, this would be leaving her behind for a purely selfish reason.

  No, not selfish. For her. For Rachel. “I’ll think about it.”

  Who knew summer camp had such temptations for grown-ups? He certainly hadn’t expected to face a dilemma like this. Was it time to think a little bit about himself?

  RACHEL LIFTED HER PONYTAIL off the back of her damp neck, wishing she had a few bobby pins to keep it up.

  Splashes and laughter drew her attention to the Olympic-size swimming pool where lessons and a game of tag appeared to be in progress. Maybe she could dangle her feet in the water, cool off a bit.

  Entering the fenced-off area, she reached down and shucked her sandals, gathering them by the toe loops. The damp concrete was blessedly cool beneath her bare feet. The sharp scent of chlorine hung in the air, and Rachel wrinkled her nose as she scanned the area for the best place to dip her feet without getting in the way.

  Off in the corner, tucked in a chair beneath a large umbrella, Molly McClain cradled a hardcover book on her lap. She blew at a stray strand of hair trailing down her forehead, then glanced from her book to the pool and all the splashing kids from her group. Pure, undisguised longing filled her round, freckled face. Her shoulders pulled upward slightly, then slumped back down in an inaudible sigh.

  Rachel diverted her steps toward the little girl, who was looking decidedly unspunky at the moment. “Hey.”

  Molly looked up. “Hi.”

  “How come you’re not swimming with the rest of the group? Forget your bathing suit? I did.” Rachel dragged another chair over and dropped down into it, sandals clutched in her lap.

  “No.” This time the sigh was audible. “I’m not allowed.”

  “Not allowed? How come?”

  “Germs,” Molly mumbled.

  “Germs?” Rachel sat up straighter. “I can smell the chlorine from here. What germs could survive that?”

  The little girl lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “Ask my dad. I’m not allowed in public pools since he saw some story on the news about germs that can live in them, even with chlorine.” She brushed at the strand of hair now glued to her forehead with beaded sweat.

  Rachel’s heart went out to her. “What is it with your father and germs?”

  “Remember those pills I took this morning?” Rachel nodded.

  “Well, they make it easy for me to get sick. My body doesn’t fight my new heart, but it doesn’t fight germs too good, either. All transplant kids have to be careful.”

  Careful she could see, but obsessive? “I see a bunch of transplant kids in that pool right now.”

  “Tell me about it.” Molly shoved a bookmark into her book and thumped the heavy volume closed.

  “I guess that means you can’t even put your feet in there, huh? That’s what I was going to do.”

  “Nope.”

  The droopy expression on the normally sunny face tugged at Rachel. This child was supposed to sit here and watch everyone else have fun? That was just too cruel. “When is swimming over?”

  “Next activity is at four o’clock. Nature hike.”

  Rachel glanced at her watch. It was 2:24. That meant Molly had to sit here in the heat for more than an hour before the rest of the kids climbed from the pool. “Tell you what, why don’t you come with me instead of sitting around here?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I was thinking about heading back to my cabin to pin my hair up off my neck, and then I’m going to find some other way of cooling off.” Hopefully that bag of balloons she’d used for a science experiment was still buried at the bottom of her teaching bag. She didn’t recall taking it out, but that didn’t mean anything these days.

  “Like what?” Molly asked, her face brightening slightly.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to wait and see. What do you say?”

  “I say, what are we waiting for?”

  “Then let’s tell your counselor that you’re going with me and get out of here.” Rachel slipped on her sandals.

  On the way out the gate, Molly reached for Rachel’s hand.

  Rachel’s heart skipped a beat, then thudded against her chest as she wrapped her fingers around the child’s smaller ones. She quickly chased away the dull ache, the empty void that grabbed her. Life moved forward, and so would she. She had to, or lose what she had left.

  Molly grinned up at her.

  Rachel smiled back and squeezed the little hand tucked inside hers.

  JAMES TRUDGED UP THE DIRT lane toward his cabin. Even the birds had gone silent in the heat of the afternoon, but as he got closer to the end of the lane, he heard muffled shouts and…laughter? A few high-pitched giggles were punctuated by rough chuckles, rusty laughter that sounded like the person was out of practice.

  “Got you!” an exuberant voice proclaimed.

  More laughter followed, laughter that sounded more natural this time.

  Wait a minute. He recognized that voice and the giggles. They belonged to his daughter—who was supposed to be with her group at the pool, not here. James picked up his pace, striding around the side of the blue cabin. “Molly, what are you—”

  “Dad, look out!”

  A flash of yellow hurtled inches in front of his face. James stopped abruptly. “What’s going on here?”

  Molly stepped out from behind a bush. Straggly, drippy hair framed her face, and her pink T-shirt clung to her chest. Her formerly white sneakers and socks were spattered with dirt. In her hand, she hefted a round blue object. “We’re just having a water balloon fight. Wanna play?” Molly smiled sheepishly and extended the balloon in his direction.

  “We?” He scanned for the other culprit, the source of the rusty laughter, and saw no one. He turned back to his daughter. “You’re wet! Why aren’t you with your group?” James snatched the water balloon from her hand. “Where did you fill these?”

  “It’s my fault. Don’t be mad at her.” Across the small glade, Rachel stepped from behind the corner of her yellow cabin, one hand held in front of her, one snaked behind her back.

  “Do you realize that she’s all wet now?”

  “That was the idea, yes. We were just trying to cool off since she couldn’t go in the pool.”

  “She can’t go in the pool for a reason! Where did you fill these balloons?”

  Rachel crossed the open area between them, stepping around spattered pieces of colorful latex. “Calm down. We used the tap water. No big deal.”

  James whirled on his daughter. “Molly, you get inside, get those wet clothes off and jump in the shower. Look at you. Your legs are filthy.”

  Molly’s lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Dad.” She turned and ran toward the cabin.

  James jammed his hand into his hair. “Molly, honey,” he ca
lled after her. “Wait!”

  She skidded to a halt, then slowly pivoted on the rubber tip of her sneaker.

  “I’m careful because I love you.”

  She balled her fists and propped them on her hips. “Sometimes I think you love me too much!” Her muddy foot pounded into the ground. “Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t have a mom, because with two parents like you, I’d really smother!” The screen door slammed as she raced inside.

  A slow ache built inside him. Smother? Was he really smothering her? No. He had her best interests in mind. Her health. But it hurt to hear her say he loved her too much.

  How could you love a person too much?

  He took a step in the direction of the cabin but stopped at the touch of a warm hand on his elbow.

  “Let her go. Give her a chance to cool off.”

  James inhaled deeply, then exhaled forcefully.

  “I don’t understand the big deal. It was tap water.” Rachel’s soft voice drifted across his shoulder.

  “Tap water can be contaminated, too. Not to mention when you mix it with mud…” He whirled to face her…

  And forgot Molly’s harsh words.

  Rachel’s white blouse bore the evidence of his daughter’s good aim, the moisture rendering it transparent in the bright sunshine. Lace-cupped curves beckoned from beneath the material.

  He curled his fingers toward his palms, the urge to touch her so strong pins and needles shot clear up to his elbows.

  She stepped closer and her aroma further addled his senses, the faint scent of lemon mingled with the healthy smells of sunshine, water and woman.

  Suddenly he was grateful for the weight of his denim shorts, which although hot, hid his erection a lot better than canvas or parachute shorts would.

  “You just sent her inside to shower in that same tap water. How much sense does that make?” she asked gently.

  He lifted his gaze from the swell of her breasts and locked on her eyes, trying to clear the hormone-induced haze from his mind. “What? Same water?”

  “Why did you bring Molly here, James?”

  “So she could have a normal summer, have fun.”

  “We were having fun until you came on like a bulldozer.” She reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  The gesture made her breasts jut forward and James bit back a groan. If she moved like that again, even denim wasn’t going to contain him.

  “I haven’t laughed like that since…”

  He jerked his head up, caught the fading light in her blue eyes. Something tightened deep in his chest, something that had nothing to do with hormones or lust. He reached out to brush his finger across her cheek. “Since Daniel died?”

  She nodded.

  “You should do it more often.” His fingers glided over the damp, smooth skin of her face, traced the shape of her jawline. “You’re very pretty when you smile. And God knows you deserve some fun and laughter.”

  “What about you, James? When’s the last time you did something fun, something impulsive?” She caressed the back of his wrist, rekindling the pins and needles sparking up his arm.

  “You mean before now?” He snaked his hand around her waist and drew her against him. She gasped, dropping the water balloon from her hand. It plopped onto the ground next to them.

  She tilted her head back, and he dipped his head to take possession of her mouth.

  He meant to go slow, easy, but at the first bit of pressure, she parted her lips for him, and he accepted the invitation, deepening the kiss, slipping into her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

  Butterscotch. She tasted of butterscotch. He probed deeper.

  RACHEL MOANED softly into his mouth. His tongue teased and explored, driving rational thought far away. He slipped his hand lower on her spine. Fingers splayed across her bottom, he pulled her closer, against the hard ridge of his arousal.

  He wants me.

  The knowledge caused a surge of power to rush through her, a heady feeling of desirability and femininity. Intoxicated by that and the overwhelming heat generated by his mouth on hers, and by his erection jammed against her belly, she whimpered her distress when he pulled away from her.

  Only their heavy breathing filled the super-charged air hanging between them.

  “Damn,” he finally whispered, fingers finding her face again. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I guess firefly wishes really do come true.”

  “Maybe we should have Molly catch more tonight?”

  He cupped her chin. “But now that I’ve had a taste of your sweetness, I’m going to wish for more than a kiss, Rachel.” His pupils widened. “A lot more. Do you understand me?”

  Oh, God. She understood, all right. Trouble. Big trouble. Get-pregnant-get-married-get-hurt trouble. And yet, the idea of losing herself in his arms definitely had appeal. He’d sent her halfway to heaven with one kiss. What would he do if she gave him a chance? She swallowed hard. “I…I hear you.”

  “Don’t look so horrified about it. You’ll damage my fragile ego.” He leaned in closer again, wrapping his arms around her in what could pass for a casual hug if not for the sensual awareness between them. “Nothing will happen if you don’t want it to.”

  Did that guarantee include not getting pregnant?

  His warm breath against her ear sent tingles racing up and down her spine.

  “I want to know everything about you, Rachel Thompson.” He released her and stepped back, tugging on the hem of his polo shirt. Two damp spots indicated where her breasts had crushed up against him. “What do you say we claim that prize we won and have dinner together Friday night?”

  Damp spots? Rachel glanced down and heat scorched her cheeks. No wonder he’d come on to her—she looked like an absolute hussy, a renegade from some bar’s wet T-shirt contest. She folded her arms across her chest. “Are you asking me on a date?”

  His face paled in response to the question. He looked as if he’d swallowed one of the water balloons. “A date? I—um—well…”

  Rachel recalled his early morning, adamant words to his daughter, words to the effect that he wasn’t going to date her. Serves him right. Let’s see him squirm out of this. She smiled. “I think that’s what they generally call it when a man asks a woman out to dinner.”

  “Then I guess I am,” he said. “Friday night.”

  “Friday night.” She nodded. “It’s a date.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  A DATE. JAMES STARED at himself in the bathroom mirror and wiped the last trace of shaving cream off the edge of his face with a hand towel.

  He’d lost his mind.

  Weeks of therapy would be required to regain it—but he couldn’t count on Cord’s help, because his partner would applaud the behavior.

  Amazing how a man’s reasoning ability went to hell the second all the blood rushed south of the beltline. At least, that’s what he’d kept telling himself. Far easier to believe it had been the wet shirt and what was beneath it that had gotten him into trouble rather than the ache he’d seen in her eyes when she’d spoken about not laughing since Daniel’s death.

  He reached for the after-shave bottle propped on the sink, wincing as the lotion bit into his skin.

  “Mmm, that smells nice, Dad.”

  James turned to find Molly leaning against the door frame, the mischievous twinkle back in her hazel eyes, her cold-shoulder treatment of him after the balloon incident obviously over. “What are you up to, Unsinkable? You have your things ready to go to Cherish’s for the night?” His gut tightened at the thought of leaving her for the whole night.

  Grinning widely, she shook her head. “Not yet.” She pranced in the doorway. “This is gonna be so cool, Dad. Thank you so much!” In the space of a heartbeat, she’d flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his middle, pressing her cheek against the bare flesh of his stomach.

  He gently stroked her unbound hair, a surge of warmth kicking him in the center of the chest. The love of this amazing child s
hould have been enough for him.

  Then why did he keep feeling so drawn to Rachel?

  “You’re the best dad in the whole world.”

  Yesterday he’d smothered her, and today he was the best dad in the world? “Remember that the next time I tell you to do something you don’t want to do.”

  Molly giggled and tipped her head back to glance up at him. “Okay, right now you’re the best dad in the whole world.”

  “That sounds more like it.” He released her, spun her in the direction of the door and playfully swatted her behind. “Get your things together. We have to be out of here in about five minutes to get you down to Cherish’s so I’m back in time to meet Rachel.”

  “Ooh, Dad’s going on a date.” She giggled again as she vanished out the door.

  “It’s not a—” He stared at his freshly shaved face in the mirror and sighed. “Okay, okay, it’s a date.” He reached for his toothbrush. “Hey! Come back here. You forgot your toothbrush, you little monkey!”

  When Molly returned, he dropped to one knee. She reached for the toothbrush, but he held tightly to it. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Unsinkable?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Going to Cherish’s? Of course—”

  “No. I mean, with me going on a date.”

  “Oh, Daddy.” She looped her arms around his neck and dropped her forehead against his. The soft scent of her hair rose around him. No longer the sweet smell of baby shampoo, but a floral fragrance. “I want you to be happy. You take care of people at work and me at home. You deserve a bunch of dates if that’s what you want.” She pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose.

  Eyes closed, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, the steady thump of her heart against his chest a reminder of the treasure—the miracle— she was. “I love you, Mol.”

  “I love you, too, Daddy.” She wriggled in his arms and pushed away. “Now, get a shirt on or you’re gonna be late.”

  She snatched the toothbrush from his hand and dashed from the bathroom once more.