“Actually, you do smell good,” he conceded, deciding to make light of Dustin’s remark.
“I thought you’d never notice,” she quipped.
“Haven’t had the opportunity.”
Their gazes met again, and they shared a laugh.
Suddenly Frank’s mood lifted. The entire room seemed brighter.
❧
Cadi watched Frank trail his son up the steps. When his bedtime came, Dustin had protested, but his dad overruled, and now the boy all but stomped his way to the second floor.
She couldn’t help smiling. Typical kid. She knew that from babysitting throughout her high school years and doing her share of nursery duty at church. Folks always said she had a special, God-gifted way with children; they took to her immediately, and judging from the way Dustin and Emily behaved tonight, she hadn’t lost her touch.
Still wearing a grin, she stood and stretched as she glanced around the living room. Not for the first time, she became aware of the sparse décor in Frank’s home. Even with a few odds and ends here and there, and several framed pictures on the oak entertainment center, the home had an impersonal feel to it. Cadi was hardly an expert on interior design; however, Aunt Lou tinkered and toyed with her decorating all the time and almost every corner of the old home had been filled with unique charm and loving touches.
Cadi’s gaze lingered on the framed photos. Stepping forward, she paused to inspect the family shot. She picked it up and studied it. What impressed her most was Frank’s demeanor. Gone were the hard angles and planes in his face. His features were softer in the picture. Beside him, a slim, auburn-haired beauty cradled a baby in her arms, and Cadi guessed the infant was Emily. Dustin looked no more than four or five, and he stood on the other side of his mother’s wicker chair.
Cadi’s gaze kept returning to Frank’s smiling face. His dark eyes held sparks of happiness in their depths. In short, he looked altogether like a different man.
Hearing him clear his throat, she lifted her gaze.
Frank stepped toward her. “Thanks for being a good sport tonight. When my kids learned that I’d asked you out, they both begged and pleaded to come along. I gave in against my better judgment, and I’ll admit it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to take two rambunctious children with me on a first date.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Then I figured you might as well see me—us—just as we are.”
“I’ll admit to feeling confused at first and maybe even a bit disappointed.” Cadi smiled and shook her head. “But I think everything turned out fine. I love kids, and you should be proud of yours. Emmie’s a sweet girl and Dustin is a nice, very thoughtful boy.”
“I don’t know how ‘sweet’ and ‘nice’ they were tonight.” Frank moved closer and peered at the picture that Cadi still held in her hand.
“I hope you don’t mind my looking at your photographs.”
Frank wagged his head. “I don’t mind.”
“Is this your wife?”
“Was,” he both corrected and confirmed. “She’s been dead for over three years.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Cadi regarded the photo again. “She’s beautiful. What was her name?”
“Yolanda.” A rueful smile played across his lips. “She was the model domestic engineer. We owned a house outside of town, had a few acres of land, and Landi always had some project going on, whether she was planting flowers or wallpapering a bedroom. And she sure knew how to cook.”
“I’m quite the opposite.” Cadi set the picture back into place. “Maybe hopeless is the word to describe my domestic abilities. I’ve tried to cook and failed. My aunt attempted to instruct me, I’ve watched culinary shows on TV, and still it seems that every time I even go near the stove the smoke alarm goes off.”
Frank’s smile grew. “Well, if it’s any consolation, the way to this man’s heart isn’t necessarily through his stomach.” He chuckled. “Can I get you something to drink? Cola? A diet drink?”
“Um, sure.”
Cadi was still trying to figure out what the way-to-this- man’s-heart comment meant. But then she recalled their conversation at the zoo. His well-intentioned friends had set him up with women who cooked and baked.
Amused, she followed him into the kitchen. The decor was functional but unimaginative, like the living room.
“What’ll it be?” Frank extracted a clear plastic bottle. “How ’bout a raspberry-flavored carbonated water?”
“Good enough.” She took the proffered drink then eyed Frank. For some odd reason she couldn’t imagine him taking a swig of this particular beverage.
He selected a diet cola for himself. Then, as if divining her thoughts, he said, “My kids’ grandparents live next door, and when Lois, Yolanda’s mother, found out that we were having a guest over, she straightened up and stocked the fridge.”
“Nice gesture on her part.”
“I’ll say. I’m grateful to her.” A sheepish grin accompanied Frank’s reply. “I didn’t think about cleaning the house.”
Smiling, they reentered the living room.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me that it’s evident I need a wife.”
Cadi took a seat on the couch, and Frank lowered his sizable frame beside her.
“Well, if cleaning and shopping is why you need a wife,” she said, “I’m no candidate for the position.” She saw no point in pretense. “And I already told you that I can’t cook.”
She sipped her carbonated water and watched Frank chuckle. Relaxing, he sat back, crossed his legs, and stretched his arm around Cadi’s shoulders. She liked feeling his warmth and his strength, and she couldn’t help but snuggle into him just a little.
“I must admit I find you both delightful and refreshing, not to mention pretty—and, as Dustin said, you smell good, too.”
“Thanks.” Cadi felt a blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. “So, tell me about you.”
A surprised look crossed his face. “Me? You already know about me.”
“No, I don’t. I know very little about you, really.”
Frank took a gulp of diet soda. “What is it you want to know?”
“Well. . .” She paused in thought. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Favorite color?”
A half smile curled his full lips. He looked deep into her eyes, causing Cadi to blush. “Blue. How’s that?”
She felt flattered. “What do you do for fun?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’m not suggesting, Sergeant Parker.” She arched a brow. “I’m asking.”
“Oh.”
Cadi flicked a glance upward. When she looked back at him, she noted his mischievous grin.
“Do you like football? Baseball? Hockey? Snowmobiling? Skiing?”
“Do you like those things?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “Number one Hawkeye fan.”
He replied with a rumble of laughter before adding, “No shopping at the mall all day for you, eh?”
“Well, I do shop occasionally,” she admitted. “But I’m hardly a mall rat.”
Frank’s grin was contagious.
“I don’t ski, though.”
“Ah. Well, neither do I. And the fact is I don’t have much of a life apart from my kids and working.”
“I may be able to help if you’d like to change that.”
“Oh?” He appeared thoroughly amused.
“Sure.” She couldn’t pass up another chance to tease him. “Next time my friends and I plan to go somewhere fun, we could probably find it in our ever-so-gracious hearts to ask you along.”
“Hmm.”
Cadi watched the smile work on his lips as he fought it off. She, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide her grin.
&n
bsp; At last he gave in and chuckled. Then he took another drink of his cola. “I read your blog,” he said, changing the subject.
The statement surprised Cadi. “You did?”
He nodded. “I found it interesting.” He paused. “I think the work you’re doing to draw attention to the devastating effects of drunk driving is commendable. If the sheriff’s department can be of any help, let us know.”
“I will. Thanks, but. . .” She regarded him askance. “We’re talking about you, remember?”
“Cadi, there’s nothing to say about me.” He balanced his soda can on his knee and stared at it.
She mulled it over. “Mind if I ask how your wife died?”
“No, I don’t mind.” He took hold of his soda can again, sat forward, and swung his gaze to hers. “Remember the tornado that ripped through this part of the state a few years back? It almost completely wiped out Rogan’s Hill, a subdivision not far from here.”
Cadi remembered. “That was a horrendous storm.”
Frank agreed. “Yolanda was home with the kids when it hit. She did everything right. She grabbed the kids—Dustin was about five at the time and Emmie was only an infant—and took refuge in the basement. But when the house was destroyed, Landi. . .” He swallowed hard. “Well, she was killed. Neighbors found the kids crying, and Dustin was confused, but otherwise they were both unharmed.” He paused. “Before the twister hit, Landi begged me to come home. She said she was frightened, but I—I told her she’d be okay. I felt I was needed on the job, not at home. I regret my decision to this day.”
Although he spoke in a matter-of-fact way, Cadi saw the remorse in his eyes. She recognized the pain and guilt pooling in their depths. She knew it well.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.” He forced a smile. “But life goes on for those of us left behind, even when we might feel dead inside.”
“I can relate all too well,” she said emphatically. She shifted so she could see him better. “I wondered for years and years why I survived and my family didn’t. I felt guilty for being alive.”
His gaze met hers, and he appeared to be digesting every-thing she said. Then he reached out and touched her cheek.
They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Frank leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her lips. Cadi allowed her eyes to flutter closed, relishing the moment.
“Frank?”
Cadi started, hearing another female’s voice followed by the thud of a closing door. She drew back and stared at Frank with wide eyes.
“My mother-in-law.” He grinned. “She promised to sit with the kids.”
“Oh.” Cadi blinked.
Frank chuckled at what had to be her bewildered expression. “You didn’t think I’d let you hitchhike home, did you?”
Fourteen
Frank made the introductions, and Cadi smiled. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.” The bone-thin woman with short blond hair flicked a glance at her before looking back at Frank. “Are you ready to drive her home now, or do you want me to come back later? But not too much later. Church tomorrow, you know?”
Cadi sensed an immediate dislike coming from Lois Chayton and felt both puzzled and troubled by it. Did the woman resent her presence and think she’d come to take her daughter’s place?
“We can go now.” Frank’s gaze shifted to Cadi. “Ready?”
“Sure.”
It seemed an abrupt ending to an already peculiar first date. But as Cadi plucked her purse off the oak coffee table and made her way to the front door, she sensed Frank’s former mother-in-law disapproved of her. She must have seen them kiss and drawn the wrong conclusions.
Frank opened the door of his SUV for Cadi, and she got in. He walked around and climbed behind the wheel.
“I don’t think Lois likes me.” She pulled the seat belt across her chest.
“It’s nothing personal. That’s just Lois. It takes her awhile to warm up to people.” He started the engine then pulled away from the curb. “I should add that I, um, don’t do a lot of dating.”
“Hmm. Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t date a lot, either.”
“I figured.”
Curious, Cadi peered over at him.
“Will made a comment about you being ninety-five before having a gentleman friend.”
“He said—what?”
Frank chuckled. “At the bank, the morning you were helping Mrs. Binder fill out the insurance form. . .well, she mentioned her ‘gentleman friend’ would pick her up. That’s when Will made the comparison.”
Cadi told herself she shouldn’t be surprised by the antics of her wisecracking friend. “Oooh, just wait until I get my hands on him!”
Frank’s hearty laugh made her smile, and the rest of the drive back to Waterloo passed with more quips and chuckles. Quite pleasant, given that most of the time Cadi regarded it as a tedious ride across the county at night.
All too soon, Frank slowed and parked his SUV in front of Cadi’s house.
“On a serious note,” he began, turning in his seat to face her, “I’d like to apologize once more for thinking the worst of your intentions when we first met.”
“I accept this apology just like I did the last one.” She tried to make out his expression in the darkness.
“Thanks.” He killed the engine.
“I had a lot of time to think when I was recovering from the car accident,” she added, “and it did cross my mind that in your line of work you almost have to be suspicious of everyone to a point.”
“I do. That’s true.”
Releasing his seat belt, he unlatched his door and got out of the vehicle. Cadi did the same. Only too late did she realize Frank had intended to open the door for her. She smiled to herself and made a mental note to allow him that bit of gallantry in the future.
They traipsed up the walk, swatting away mosquitoes. The humidity hadn’t abated, and no breezes stirred the moist, heavy air.
“The truth is, apart from my displaced notions,” he said, “I liked you from the start. I guess that’s what makes my initial actions even more regrettable.”
“I’ll admit to having my feelings hurt, but. . .” Cadi shook off the recollection before it had time to seed. “Let’s just for-get it, all right?”
“Sounds good to me.”
They reached the front door.
Cadi looked up at him. She could just barely make out his features under the dim porch light. She glimpsed an expression of gentleness on his face. Maybe even something else that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. “I had a nice time tonight.”
“I’m glad. A little embarrassed, but glad you had a good time.” A moment passed, and then he took a step forward and, placing his hand behind her head, he drew her lips to his.
A thought winged its way across Cadi’s mind: He makes my knees weak and my heart sing.
The kiss deepened and senses took flight. But a moment later, the heavy wooden door swung open.
“I thought I heard you.”
Aunt Lou’s voice jolted Cadi back to the here and how. She stepped back while a self-conscious smile worked its way across her face.
“Why don’t you two come inside? The bugs’ll eat you up alive out there.”
“Thanks, but I need to be on my way.” Frank caught Cadi’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay. Bye. And thanks again.”
She watched him go and entered the house. She closed the door behind her then sagged against it, marveling at the effect Frank had on her senses.
“Have a nice time tonight?”
“Um, yeah.” She smiled at her aunt who had her hair wrapped in pink curlers that matched her short-sleeved pastel housedress. One of her favorite shopping ch
annels lit up the TV screen.
“You could have asked him in, hon. I was on my way to bed.”
Cadi waved off her aunt’s suggestion. “Frank left his kids with their grandmother, and she asked him to hurry back.”
“I see. . .and how was the date?” Aunt Lou lifted the sleek, black remote and turned off the television. “I like Frank a whole lot more than I ever liked Darrell.”
“Me, too.” Cadi laughed at her own reply.
“There’s a genuine sparkle in his eyes. I had no qualms about you going off with him tonight. I sensed he was trustworthy.”
“I’d have to agree with that.” Cadi kicked off her sandals and set them on the steps. “His kids are sweet, too.”
“I guess I didn’t realize he had children until tonight when they walked into the house.”
Cadi relayed the entire story to her aunt. About halfway through, they both got comfy on the classic-styled caramel-colored sofa.
“Oh, mercy! She was killed during that awful tornado?” Aunt Lou shook her head, mulling over the matter. “That was an awful storm. Iowa gets its share of twisters, you know, but that one was a doozy.”
“I remember.” Cadi had been taking classes at the technical college. When the tornado warning came, all staff and students were required to take cover in the stairwells.
“I just realized, Cadi, it appears you and Frank share a common denominator. You both have suffered tragic losses.”
“I saw that connection. I recognized the pain in his eyes.”
“That man does have expressive eyes, doesn’t he?”
Cadi nodded, stood, and padded across the tapestry-styled carpeting and into the kitchen where she took a bottle of spring water from the refrigerator. Reentering the living room, she sat back down on the couch and took a long drink.
“By comparison, Darrell’s eyes struck me as being cold and calculated. They looked like hazel-colored glass. No depth to them, you know?”
Cadi stifled a yawn. “Were you watching those goofy movies on that women’s channel again? The heroines are always victims. I can’t stand it.”
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