“IS IT HOT ENOUGH yet?” Drew wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand.
“No, not yet.” Alex grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, wishing Drew would relax. If soap operas had taught him anything, it’s that things moved along very slowly.
“Well, it’s gonna have to be, because I think Mom’s almost done weeding.”
“Shit.” Alex ran from the back door to the dining room window. Coach was still outside planting red flowers in his backyard. It bothered Alex that both Mom and Coach were outside and, as far ashe knew, hadn’t said a word to each other. Maybe Coach was embarrassed because he didn’t have a shirt on, but Alex doubted it.
Something must’ve happened between them, and that settled like a peach pit in his stomach. He rejoined his brother at the back door.
“It’s not working. What are we gonna do?” Drew asked.
Good question. Alex had anticipated Mom and Coach chatting over the picket fence, having a good laugh, and complaining about the heat, and then Mom would invite him inside for a cool drink. They’d find no comfort inside the house and hopefully things would escalate from there.
Now his plan was falling apart.
Think, Alex, think. How did they get them both into the house? There must be something—wait!
He turned to his brother, praying Drew would forgive him for what he was about to do. “Remember, this is for Mom.”
“Huh?”
“You suck at Skyward Sword.”
Drew jerked back as if Alex had slapped him. “Dude, not cool!”
“I think Grandma could play it better.”
Drew’s face turned a deep fiery red, his mouth tight, and eyes angry. He looked pissed or in pain.
He hoped Mom believed the latter.
“Are you trying to tick me off?” Drew demanded.
“Yes! Now get down on the floor and cry.”
“Whoa, the things you said were uncool, but I’m not gonna cry over it. I’d rather punch you.”
“When you’re really mad, you look like you’re in pain. And who do you think Mom’s gonna call if you’re hurt?”
Drew gave a slow nod. “Okay, I see where you’re going with this. How about I punch you and you get on the floor and cry?”
“Yeah, like Mom’d believe that.”
With a roll of his eyes, his brother flopped to the tile. “Mom!”
Alex knew she heard the anguished cry when she dropped her chin to her chest, then hopped to her feet, and jogged toward the house. He opened the door for her.
“What in God’s name—Drew!” She rushed over to him, as he writhed on the floor beside the center island, and fell to her knees. “Honey, what happened?”
“It hurts!”
“What hurts?”
Alex answered for him. “His err knee-shin—ankle.”
Drew shot him a glare, moving his hands to each part of his leg Alex shouted out until he settled on his ankle.
Maybe they should’ve run through the plan once before calling her in.
She studied the supposed injury. “It’s not swollen. C’mon, stand up. I’m sure it’s fine.”
Drew struggled to his feet, but immediately cried out when he put pressure on it and sank to the floor again. “Ow! Mom, get Coach!”
“Oh, goodness. Alex, would you please get Dr. Harris?”
Yes! Alex left the house having a newfound respect for his brother’s acting ability.
Kate sat next to Drew, nibbling the nails on one hand while rubbing her son’s back with the other. She’d known Jake was outside gardening, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him. Fear of doing or saying something that would cause her to lose her job stopped her from announcing herself.
She’d managed to avoid him until closing time yesterday, but she needed to clear the air. She missed their comfortable chatter.
A few minutes later, the front door burst open, and Jake rushed toward Drew. “What happened?”
“I hurt my-er.” He glanced at Alex. “Knee?”
“Ankle.”
“Yeah. Ankle.”
Her eyes shifted between her sons. Something smelled rotten here. “Hurts real bad, huh, Drew?”
Jake knelt down beside Kate and examined him. “Flex your foot for me, buddy.”
Drew did as instructed, eyeing her through his lashes. “It’s feeling better.”
Oh, I bet it is.
With a firm pat on the back, Jake straightened and offered his hand. “Let’s see you stand.”
Kate and Jake rose to their feet along with Drew. He took a tentative step.
“I’ll take him outside so he can walk it off.” Alex led his brother out the back door. “Far away from the house.”
A lump rose in Kate’s throat as Alex slid the backdoor closed, the soft click echoing through the kitchen. As the boys stepped out, the tension seeped in.
Alone. Great. Kate turned to Jake. “Sorry about that. He was clearly not as hurt as he let on. Although why he would act like that is anyone’s guess.”
“Boys will be boys.”
“I know.” She twisted her wedding ring. “Listen, about yesterday, I don’t know where my head was. There are quite a few years between us, and maybe I do have some issue. Well, I promise I’ll try
to—”
He placed his hand over hers. “It’s okay.”
Relief washed over her, but behind the relief was something far more warm and tingly. “Thanks.”
Jake met her eyes and—did he just move closer? “You’re welcome.”
Her breath hitched. God, those silver eyes could melt her to a puddle on the floor. She tore her gaze from his only to have it settle on his chest. Toned, tanned, perfect.
Naked.
She yanked her hand away. “Would you like some iced tea?”
“Uh, okay.” He slid his hands into the back pockets of his cut-offs.
She moved toward the fridge, but stopped at the center island and picked up the pink plastic bowl, confused. Why was a bowlful of half-melted ice cubes on the counter?
With a shrug, she grabbed a handful and divided them between two glasses.
Jake ran his palm across his forehead. “Why is it so warm in here?”
Warm? She’d thought that had been her reaction to being so close to him. Kate frowned, listening for the familiar hum. When she was met with silence, she let out a small shriek.
Rushing over to the air conditioner and praying someone had turned it off, she examined the front panel. The knob was in the on position. She flicked the dial between on and off, but that didn’t work.
Leaning her face against the plastic front, she whispered, “Please don’t be broken. Just hang on until the end of the summer.”
“Kate, why are you hugging your air conditioner?”
“Because it’s not working.”
“I see. Do you want me to have a look?”
“Yes, I very much do.”
Jake approached, trailing his eyes over her, pausing at the V in her halter top before quickly turning away and taking off the front panel of the AC unit.
Kate ran her hands up her arms, suddenly aware of what she wore. “I’m—I’ll be right back.” She fled to her room.
After a quick rinse under the shower, she quickly dried off and pulled on a peach summer shirt and causal shorts. Then she ran a comb through her hair and hurried back downstairs. Now she could face him as a respectful mother and not a barely dressed woman.
The blissful hum of the air conditioner greeted her as she descended the stairs.
“Oh, thank you!” She dashed over to Jake and threw her arms around his neck. He stiffened for only a second before he relaxed and rested his hands on her back. “What was the problem?”
“It was unplugged.”
Kate’s mouth fell open. “How did that happen? I never unplug it. Not even in the winter.”
“I don’t know, but I plugged it in, and it worked.”
“Whatever the case, thank you for doing this for me.”
Despite the newly cool air, heat radiated up her back as his hands moved in a slow, circular caress. His eyes dropped to her lips. “Anytime.”
Throwing herself into his arms had been a big mistake. So why wasn’t she pulling away? Better yet, why were her hands still on his broad shoulders, the warm, smooth skin like suede beneath her fingertips? Her breasts pressed firmly against his oh, so amazing chest. The sudden tightening of her nipples shocked her into action. She stepped away. “I’m going to get you that drink now.”
She returned to the kitchen to find the boys sitting at the kitchen table, playing cards. “When did you guys get back?”
“From where-ow!” Drew jumped.
“Only a few minutes ago, Mom,” Alex said.
She tweaked Drew’s ear. “How’s your ankle?”
“It’s fine.” He beamed. “Just fine.”
Kate studied her sons as she poured the iced tea. They were up to something, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She’d managed to mend the stress between her and Jake.
That was all that mattered.