What did you expect? Arden asked herself as she went to the kitchen to prepare a glass of iced tea before going to her room. They weren’t friends. He didn’t have to tell her anything about his day or ask about hers.
He’d made that perfectly clear. She didn’t have to be told twice about something. From now on it was strictly by the book. Exactly like her friend Patti said he liked it.
Burning with indignation and embarrassment, she went to her room and closed the door, full of determination to make sure there'd never be a hint of the longing she felt. If he wanted just a nanny for his children, so be it.
She wouldn’t offer a friendly ear in case he wanted to talk. She wouldn’t take an interest in what he was doing. And she definitely wouldn’t miss spending time with him.
Liar, her mind whispered.
She sipped her tea and plopped on the chair near the window. There was little to see in the dark summer night. The trees shaded the yard, blocking most of the starlight. The lights spilling from the house illuminated only a few feet before the dark shadows claimed the night.
Maybe he’d go on another trip and phone each night. She smiled ruefully. Was that the only way she’d get to talk to him? For a moment, she considered calling him up just to ask about his day. Would it make a difference?
Did she want it to make a difference? She had her life mapped out with no time for side trips. And this job was perfect. She'd best do nothing to jeopardize it.
On Monday, Arden put her plan into action. She went to her classes, took the girls grocery shopping and made sure the house was spotless and dinner was on the table promptly at six that evening.
She refrained from speaking directly to Brendan unless he asked her a specific question, and made sure she never made eye contact. It helped contain the fluttery feelings inside, but even without once looking directly at him during dinner, she was fully aware of his presence.
On Tuesday, she and the girls took a picnic lunch to a park while the cleaning crew took care of the house. She delayed painting on the mural until Wednesday, when they’d have time to clean up before Brendan arrived home. Dinner was perfect when again they ate on his time schedule. Once or twice during the meal she felt Brendan’s gaze on her, as if puzzled. But she devoted her attention to the children and did her best to ignore him and the sensations that seemed to escalate every time she was around him.
By Thursday afternoon Arden was going slowly crazy. Sitting in the backyard while the girls played tag, she leaned against one of the trees and closed her eyes. The stress of following the strict schedule was driving her nuts. And did it matter? Brendan probably hadn’t even noticed. Or cared.
Every night this week he’d been home in time for dinner, and then spent the evening in his den working. He was missing valuable time with his daughters.
Not that they seemed to find anything amiss. Was that their normal pattern? See their daddy at meals and the rest of the time stay out of his way?
She felt isolated and cut off. What had happened? He’d kissed her. They’d almost kissed last Saturday when baking. She’d asked a couple of questions, but nothing earth-shattering.
It wasn’t too much to expect some quiet adult conversation in the evenings, was it? At least at mealtime. Surely he talked with Ella.
Arden’s heart began pounding. Maybe her technique was faulty. Maybe she should encourage conversation between father and daughters and gradually introducing conversation between themselves.
She wanted to know more about Brendan, how he thought, what he felt. How he had made hostage rescue and high-level security a life’s work. What plans and dreams he had for his daughters.
And she couldn’t deny that shimmering awareness. At first, it had come when he entered the room. Now, she had only to think about him and it manifested itself. Was it only one-sided?
People kissed for different reasons. What were Brendan’s reasons for kissing her?
Did he want to kiss her again?
“I’m tired, Arden,” Avery said, coming to sit down beside her and leaning against her.
“I guess so, sweetie. It’s way past nap time. Want to take it out here in the shade today?”
Avery looked around. “Outside?”
Arden laughed and hugged the darling child. “Why not? I’ll bring out a nice blanket and spread it out here in the shade. You can sleep right here beneath this nice tree. I’ll lie down with you.”
“And Hailey?”
“Yes, and Hailey.”
“What?” Hailey asked, running over to drop to her knees beside her sister.
“We’re going to take a nap here in the shade, won’t that be fun?” Arden told her.
“In a tent?” Hailey looked around.
“No, darling, not in a tent. Right here in the open. We’ll spread a big blanket and each get a pillow. We can look up at the leaves before we fall asleep.”
Hailey looked around again. “I never slept outside before,” she said slowly.
“Then we’ll have a new adventure,” Arden said with a laugh.
Sometimes these girls were too quiet and lacking in an adventurous spirit. Children should be spontaneous and full of excitement, clamoring for new escapades.
A few minutes later they were settled in the shade of the large old oak. Arden told them stories as they gazed up through the leaves at the clear blue sky while dappled sunlight brushed their cheeks.
Before long, all three were sound asleep.
Arden awoke first. She hadn’t meant to sleep away the afternoon, but after working on her end-of-the-year art projects after the girls were in bed, and then lying awake long afterward each night thinking about Brendan Ferguson, it was no wonder relaxing in the peaceful afternoon air produced such a result.
Refreshed, she still lingered, enjoying the soft melody of birds in the late afternoon, the caress of the air as it moved gently along in a sweet breeze, the closeness she had with these adorable little girls.
The sound of a car door in the driveway had her sitting up suddenly.
She checked her watch. It was later than she thought. Brendan was home, and she hadn’t even thought about supper, much less started something. Scrambling to her feet, she hurried to the house, trying to come up with an idea of what to prepare that would be quick. She couldn't let him find her sleeping away the afternoon.
She dashed into the kitchen just as Brendan entered from the dining room. She stopped short and looked at him, sure her guilt was clearly obvious.
“Is there a fire?” Brendan asked lazily, taking in her flustered look.
She shook her head, took a deep breath, and smiled brightly.
“I was just checking on the children. They’re napping in the yard.”
He glanced around the kitchen. “No dinner started?”
Arden looked around, stalling. So much for following his routine.
“Um, I thought we could have a picnic tonight. Grill burgers on the barbecue. Make ice cream,” she improvised.
“Make ice cream?”
She nodded.
“You have an ice cream maker, don’t you?”
He shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
“Oh. I thought everyone did.”
He stared at her, and she wondered if something was wrong. Did she have grass in her hair? Or a leaf tangled in it? She knew she probably looked a mess. It wasn’t fair. Even after a full day at the office, he looked cool and immaculately turned out.
“Is this a spur-of-the-moment plan?” he asked.
She nodded. “Spontaneous. Children need spontaneity in their lives. Grown-ups, too, for that matter.”
He stepped closer. “All grown-ups?”
She nodded. “I believe so, don’t you? It gives an extra fillip to life. Think how boring things would be if we did nothing but the same old thing day after day.”
“Routine things, you mean?”
He stepped closer.
Arden felt that familiar flutter inside. Her mind was starting to short-circuit. How close did he plan to come?
“Yes. No. I don’t mean routine is boring, necessarily.”
Wasn’t he the one proposing a schedule for his children? She couldn’t insult him.
“But if there is routine, then it’s even more important to have some spontaneity.”
“Spontaneity.” He nodded.
He was close enough to touch. Close enough to feel the heat from his body invade her space. Arden swallowed hard and stepped back to find the counter at her back. He took another step closer.
“I wondered how long routine would last,” he said, reaching up to brush a tendril of hair off her cheek, tuck it behind her ear.
Arden’s knees threatened to give way.
“You did?” she squeaked, her gaze caught firmly in his. His eyes seemed to change from cool gray to a smokey silver that captivated.
“All last week on the phone you told me of the wild and definitely non-routine things you and my daughters did,” he said. “This week, everything seems different. Predictable, routine.”
“I thought you wanted that,” she said breathlessly.
Her skin felt too tight. The delicious tingling from the spot his hand touched swept through her.
“I like order, but not necessarily life without some imagination.”
“Oh.”
Had he taken all the air? Was that why she was having such trouble breathing?
“I like the idea of a picnic dinner. That’s innovative and sounds like something the girls will love.”
She nodded, her gaze dropping to his mouth, watching him talk. She wished he’d kiss her again. What could she do to let him know that without being totally out of line?
Probably nothing, but she’d think of something. She had to, or go slowly mad.
Not only the thought of a kiss would drive her insane, however, it was the way the man blew hot and cold.
“You’re confusing me,” she murmured.
He became still. “How so?”
Shrugging, she sidestepped around him until she was free.
“I don’t know what you expect, Brendan.”
Frowning, he slid his hand into the pocket of his trousers and looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Expect from me.”
“I want you to watch my children.”
“And is that all? Before you left, you kissed me like–”
She stopped. She didn’t need to tell the man it had been unlike any kiss she’d ever received.
“Well, it was really super. And then Saturday when my aunts were here and all-” she stopped again.
“A couple of kisses. Are you telling me you’ve never been kissed before?”
“No. It’s more than kisses. You called and talked every night you were gone. And not just about the children, though we started that way. Then Sunday I felt as if you’d ordered me to stay away don’t ask questions, don’t expect anything.”
“Arden, I don’t–”
She raised her hand. “That’s fine. I mean, whatever you want, just make it clear. But now, right now, I’m not sure what’s going on.”
“Right now, I want to kiss you. Do you want me to?”
She swallowed, afraid she’d imagined his comment.
“But it can’t mean anything,” she protested.
He reached for her and pulled her closer, resting his hands on either side of her neck, using his thumbs to gently tilt her head until she was only inches from his. Slowly, his thumbs caressed the line of her jaw.
“It can mean two people like each other and like what being together can do for them. I enjoy touching you, kissing you. It won’t go any further. I’m not looking for an affair or to get involved again. And didn’t you tell me you weren’t interested in a permanent relationship? Was that true or just words?”
Her hands grasped his wrists, but she didn’t know if she wanted to pull his arms away or hold on for dear life.
Nodding slightly, she said, “I’m not looking to get involved in a relationship. That part’s true. I’m never getting married. And I can’t have an affair with you.”
“I never asked you to.”
“Then I guess I wouldn’t mind another kiss,” she said in a rush.
There was something wrong with the logic here somewhere, but she couldn’t figure it out right now. Brendan Ferguson wanted to kiss her, and Arden felt her day would not be complete if he didn’t.
She closed her eyes when his lips touched hers.
“Is Arden hurted?” Avery asked just as the screen door slammed behind her.
Arden and Brendan jumped apart.
“What?”
“Oh, honey, no I’m not hurt.”
“Why was Daddy kissing you to make it better?”
Swallowing hard, Arden looked at Brendan.
“You field that one. I’m going to get started on making hamburgers.”
Embarrassed heat flooded through her. What if he had kissed her, really kissed her instead of a brushing of lips?
What would they have done if Avery or Hailey had seen them?
Affection between relatives was important. But she and Brendan weren’t related. And never would be. She didn’t want to give the wrong impression to anyone.
But the disappointment that swelled was hard to contain. They’d been so close. So wondrously close. If only Avery could have slept just a few more minutes. If only.
Arden wondered what impression they’d present to an outsider if someone watched dinner that night. It was an immense success. The girls faithfully stood by their father watching him grill the meat with total concentration and fascination.
Not that Arden blamed them. She’d like to sit and watch Brendan, too. But she made a quick salad, gathered the condiments, set the card table and carried out the drinks. Keeping busy made more sense, and kept her from silly daydreams.
After they ate, they all piled into Brendan’s car to go to the ice-cream parlor. No ice-cream maker had been located to try homemade. Arden wondered if she could find one somewhere and have it the next time she got the notion. She knew the girls couldn’t turn the handle once the ice cream got solid, but they’d love to take a turn at the beginning. And they could always add the salt and ice as it melted.
For a little while, Arden let herself imagine it’d always be like this. Brendan talking to her and the girls, the children excited and laughing, her own heart full and content.
If she stared at his mouth more than she should have, she hoped he didn’t notice. If only Avery had slept just a bit longer, she’d have got to plunge into a deep kiss that probably would have rocked her world.