Everyone slept in on Saturday. Jill got up around seven, showered and put on jeans and a sweatshirt. She had to admit that this job was really easy to dress for. She sure didn’t miss having to put on a suit and panty hose every day.
She made a detour on her way to the kitchen and peeked out the window. Craig’s car was parked in front of the house. It was strange to never know if he was home or not. Worse, once she realized he was in the house—sleeping upstairs—her stomach gave a little flutter. She wondered what he slept in…. She pressed her palm to her belly and willed herself to stay calm. It didn’t matter if he was home. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t. She wasn’t interested. He was her employer, nothing else. She wasn’t going to get involved.
And pigs landed regularly at the airport just outside town.
She turned around and headed for the kitchen, trying to justify her attraction to Craig. He was a handsome man. She hadn’t been with a man in a couple of years. The last few months of her marriage had been during the custody trial for the girls and she and Aaron hadn’t been intimate much. She hadn’t dated at all since then, so she was simply reacting to the proximity of an available male. It would have been the same with anyone. This wasn’t specifically about Craig.
As she collected the ingredients to make pancakes, she thought it was pretty stupid to lie to herself. After all, she knew the truth. She might not like it, but she knew it.
In the two weeks she’d been a member of the Haynes household, she’d had several late-night or early-morning talks with her employer. If he wasn’t home for dinner, she left something out for him. Usually she heard him in the kitchen and came out to see how he was. At first she’d been a little self-conscious, but then she reminded herself that he’d already seen her in a skimpy robe that first day he showed up at Kim’s house. So seeing her in a terry-cloth one that brushed the floor was hardly exciting.
In the silent hours of night, he talked about his work, and she brought him up-to-date on the children. They talked about who was angry with whom, who was doing homework and who had broken what. In the time since her divorce, she’d forgotten how volatile childish tempers could be. One minute there were screams of hatred and the next they were playing together. She figured as long as everyone got along in the end, she didn’t mind.
She hadn’t heard Craig come in the previous night. Idly, she wondered if he was home for the weekend. He hadn’t had a day off since she arrived two weeks ago. The boys told her that he usually worked regular hours, but this special assignment demanded more. They weren’t sure what he was doing, but they knew it was something they could be proud of.
They worried about their dad, and he worried about them. She poured milk into the pancake batter and stirred it vigorously. Aaron had always been concerned with how things looked, while Craig worried about how things really were. Too bad she hadn’t seen her ex was a jerk before she married him.
When the batter was finished, she rinsed off the first strawberries of the season, cut them up and put them in a bowl. Then she started coffee. When the pot was dripping steadily, she went upstairs to wake the boys.
C.J. was already sitting up and reading. He gave her a smile and said he would be right down.
Danny stirred sleepily. “What’s for breakfast, Jill?” he asked.
She bent over and brushed his hair from his eyes. “Pancakes.”
He smiled. “Good. I love pancakes. I can eat a hundred.”
She bent over and kissed his cheek. “Then that’s how many I’m going to make for you.”
She stood up and moved into Ben’s room. When she opened the door, he opened his eyes and glanced at her, then at the clock.
“It’s late.”
Dark eyes met hers. “What about our walk?”
“Everyone gets to take a day off. Instead of walking, you can play outside with your brothers today. I don’t know if your dad is going to stay home or not, but maybe we can do something as a group. The zoo, or a park. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get exercise.”
He didn’t return her smile. Instead, his big dark eyes widened. He flushed slightly. “Thanks, Jill.”
“You’re welcome.” Her throat was uncomfortably tight as she backed out of the room.
She paused by Craig’s room but didn’t knock. She wasn’t sure what time he’d come home, and he probably needed his sleep. He’d been working impossible hours since she arrived and for who knew how long before that.
Involuntarily, she brushed her fingers against the smooth surface of the door. Images sprang into her mind. Images of what Craig might look like on the other side of this door. She didn’t want to think about it, but she couldn’t help herself. Was he lying there in a tangle of sheets, his long, lean, athletic body bare? She knew he was alone. Craig wasn’t the type to bring a woman home. She wondered what he did for sex. Was there a discreet lady friend somewhere? Did he have a type, and if he did, what was it?
“None of my business,” she said softly, and turned toward the stairs.
Ten minutes later she slipped the first four pancakes off the electric griddle and put them on a warming plate. Ten minutes after that, all three boys sat around the table drinking juice and laughing. Jill served them. Ben stared at the pancakes uncertainly.
She leaned over his shoulder and set down the bowl of berries. “Have all the fruit and syrup you want,” she said quietly. “Stay away from the butter.”
He gave her a grateful smile.
“What are we going to do today?” Danny asked. “I finished my homework yesterday.”
“Me, too,” C.J. said, then stuck a piece of pancake in his mouth. “Is Dad home?” he mumbled.
“Yes,” she said. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Yes’m.” He barely moved his lips as he spoke the word. She had to turn away to hide a grin.
“Do you think Daddy will stay with us today?” Danny asked.
“Nah, he’s gonna be too busy,” Ben answered for her.
Jill didn’t like his answer, but she didn’t have a better one. Craig hadn’t told her his plans. Maybe she should tell him that his sons assumed he wouldn’t have time for them.
She got up to pour herself more coffee. There was a creak on the stairs. She set the pot down, turned and was instantly pleased she wasn’t holding anything as fragile as a glass coffeepot.
Craig walked into the kitchen. There was nothing extraordinary about the action. She’d seen him walk into the kitchen before. But she’d never seen him out of uniform, and, frankly, he took her breath away.
He was dressed simply. Bare feet, worn jeans, a sweatshirt. Thousands, maybe millions of men wore the same casual clothes on the weekend. But other men weren’t Craig.
His dark hair was still damp from the shower and smoothed away from his face. One stubborn lock brushed against his forehead. His jaw was clean-shaven, his smile easy. The university logo on the sweatshirt had seen several dozen washings. The once dark blue fabric had faded. But it looked soft, and it highlighted the width of his shoulders. His jeans hung loosely on his legs, the denim lighter at the seams, knees and, intriguingly, at the crotch.
Nothing about his clothing was overtly erotic, yet she couldn’t stop the ripple of need that coursed through her. Her heart pounded hard and loud in her chest and her palms were suddenly sweaty.
Their eyes met. She sent up a quick prayer that he couldn’t read what she’d been thinking. It would be too humiliating.
“Morning,” he said.
The three boys turned as one. “Dad!” They tumbled from their seats and into his arms. In the confusion of hugs and questions, Jill tried to draw in a steadying breath.
“How many pancakes would you like?” she asked, and was pleased when her voice sounded normal.
“A plateful. I’m starved. I didn’t get dinner.” He glanced at the table, then at her. “This looks great. Thanks, Jill.”
He’d said her name a hundred times before, but this time was different. This time the sound skittered across her skin, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“My pleasure.” She poured more batter on the griddle.
“Are you going to work today?” Danny asked as he stepped back and stared at his father.
Craig leaned over and ruffled his hair. “Nope. I’m off for the whole weekend.”
“Wow! Can we practice baseball?”
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
The three boys grabbed him again and held on tight. Craig turned away from the table, dragging them along. C.J. laughed. Even Ben giggled.
“You boys going to let me go?” Craig asked.
“No!” they answered as one.
With that, Craig dropped to his knees, taking the boys with him. They swarmed over him, like bees on a flower. They were one mass of tickling, wrestling, hugging bodies.
“I’ve got you now.”
“I’ll get you back.”
“Let’s tickle Dad.”
“Let’s not.”
Bits of conversation overlapped. Jill turned the pancakes and stared at the Haynes males enjoying themselves. She felt as if she were on the outside of the inner circle. The familiarity of the emotion startled her. In that moment, she realized she’d spent much of her marriage on the outside looking in. She’d fooled herself into believing that she belonged, but it wasn’t true. It had never been true.
She set the cooked pancakes on the warming tray.
“You boys planning to finish your breakfast anytime soon?” she asked.
“No!” Danny said. He was tugging on his father’s leg. Ben had wrestled one of Craig’s arms to the ground and was trying to pin it there. C.J. lunged for her.
She tried to jump back, but she wasn’t fast enough. He tugged on her leg. Her knee gave, and she started to fall. She didn’t know what to brace herself on. She didn’t want to hurt any of the boys.
Before she could figure out what to do, Craig twisted free and grabbed her. He spun her as she fell, so she landed across his lap. Her bottom connected with his rock-hard thighs.
She barely had time to absorb the feeling of his body so close to hers when Danny flung himself on top of them both. His bony legs splayed over her hips and he leaned down to press his nose against hers.
“I’m the winner,” he said.
She smiled. “You are?”
“Yep.”
Craig laughed. She felt the vibration of sound against her arm, which was pinned against his chest. C.J. came up behind her and started tickling her. She shrieked.
“Stop that,” she demanded between gasps.
“She’s real ticklish,” C.J. crowed in delight.
Ben started to attack, too.
Jill tried to slip away, but she was trapped. Craig leaned over, trying to shield her with his body. As his weight shifted, they all tumbled together, a wild assortment of arms and tangled legs.
She laughed until her sides ached and she couldn’t catch her breath. For that moment, she was a part of the family. She knew it was temporary, but she didn’t care. The warmth and happiness thawed the ice around her soul.
“Okay, boys, get up,” Craig said. “While we finish breakfast, we’ll decide what we’re going to do this weekend. But whatever it is, we’re going to do it together.”
“Everything?” Danny asked as he stood up.
“Even go to the bathroom?”
“You are so weird,” Ben said and lunged for his brother. Danny shrieked and took off around the table. In a matter of seconds, all three of them were racing around the room.
Craig shook his head. “I think my brothers and I were worse. I don’t know how my mother stood it.”
“I’m sure she loved you all.”
Jill stood up and brushed off her behind. Without thinking, she offered her hand to Craig. He took it and rose to his feet. Once there, he towered over her. Six feet of sexually enticing male.
“What do you want to do this weekend?” Craig asked her.
“I get a vote?”
“Sure, you’re part of the family.”
C.J. stopped running and leaned against her. “Let’s go bike riding.”
Danny flopped into his seat. His light brown hair fell into his eyes. “I wanna play baseball.”
“I want to go to the movies,” Ben said.
All four males stared at her. Jill was torn between wanting to belong and reminding them that she was just the temporary help. She would only be here for another three weeks. Not that she’d seen Craig interviewing anyone else for her job.
If she were smart, she would ask for the day off. Craig was home; he could handle the kids by himself. She opened her mouth to say just that.
“I’d like to not have to cook dinner tonight,” she said, then wondered where that had come from.
“Done,” Craig said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. “Everyone gets his or her wish.”
There was a collective cheer.
Jill walked to the counter and put four pancakes on a plate. If she’d known Craig was going to be granting wishes so easily, she might have asked for something more intriguing.
* * *
They stopped to rest in the park. Craig sat on the ground with his back against a tree, while Danny flopped next to him. Ben, C.J. and Jill sprawled across a picnic table, using the attached bench seats as foot-rests.
Overhead the sun was bright, and the temperature was just warm enough not to be cool. As his boys chattered, Craig tried to remember the last time he’d taken the day off and done nothing except have fun. Usually there were errands to run and the boys had activities. But today everyone seemed to be content to be together.
“We can take the short way home,” he said, then stretched. “Of course the long way goes right by the ice-cream shop.”
C.J. grinned down at him. “Gee, Dad, let’s go the long way.”
Jill leaned over and bumped C.J.’s shoulder. “And people say you’re not too smart.”
He laughed. “I’m very smart.”
“So smart you’ve got Krissie Nelson doing your math homework for you. Don’t think I haven’t caught on.”
C.J.’s eyes widened and he looked as startled as a mouse facing down a tiger. “How’d you know that?” he asked, then clamped his hand over his mouth.
Ben laughed. “You blew it, bozo. Now you’re dead meat.”
C.J. looked at Jill. “She just did it at recess a couple times. How’d you find out?”
Jill arched her eyebrows. “I know everything.”
She touched his face. “You left your homework out on the kitchen table yesterday morning and Krissie had written a note on the paper. Cheating is stupid and you’re not. Okay?”
C.J. flushed. “Yeah. Sorry.” He glanced at his father. “Dad?”
Craig was torn between wanting to ground C.J. for the next fifteen years and being impressed with how Jill had handled the situation. He fought down the flicker of annoyance that she hadn’t discussed it with him, then realized that in the past four days he’d only been home to sleep for a couple of hours.
“I expect better of you,” he said quietly.
C.J. sucked in a breath as if he’d been mortally wounded. “Dad—” He broke off and stared at the trees for a moment. “I won’t do it again.”
Jill stood up and jumped to the ground. “Let’s go get some ice cream,” she said and headed for her bike. Everyone followed.
When C.J. walked by, Craig snagged his arm. Father and son looked at each other for a moment, then C.J. mumbled, “I’m sorry,” and ducked into his embrace. Craig held him tightly for a moment.
“I know,” he said and smoothed the boy’s hair.
When he released him, C.J. smiled and reached for his bike. Order had been restored.
A bike path wound through the large park. Ben led the way. Craig glanced at Jill’s bike. He’d borrowed it from a neighbor. She caught him staring.
“What’s so interesting about my bike?” she asked.
“I didn’t know the seat went down that far.” It was as far down as it would go and she still had to stretch to reach the pedals.
“We aren’t all descendants of Amazons,” she said tartly. “Besides, you’re just jealous. Short people are superior and you tall people know it.”
He laughed. “How do you figure?”
“We’re ecologically superior. We take up less space, use less oxygen and don’t need as much food or clothing. All that and we’re just as smart and productive. There’s really no reason for tall people to exist at all, but as a group, short people are very kind to those less fortunate souls.” She smiled sweetly, then raised her chin, obviously proud of the way she talked herself out of that one.
This afternoon she wore a short-sleeved shirt tucked into stone-washed jeans. A baseball cap covered her bright red hair and sunglasses shielded her eyes.
“You don’t expect anyone to believe that, do you?” Ben asked from the front of the group.
“Yes,” she shot back. “You especially!”
He laughed.
Craig tried to remember the last time he’d been out like this with the boys. Recently there hadn’t been a lot of fun in their lives. He had no one to blame but himself. He’d been afraid of his children and right now he couldn’t figure out why.
Some of it, he admitted, was Krystal. She’d had the unique ability to make him feel inadequate. He should have recovered from her betrayals a long time ago. Maybe he had and just hadn’t realized it. Maybe he was hiding behind her memory because it was easier than facing the real world.
They came out of the park at the west end. Across the street was the ice-cream store. They waited for the light, then rode across together. After leaving their bikes outside, they entered the small establishment.
There were tiny tables and chairs with round seats pushed up against the plate glass window. In the center of the store was a long refrigerator case. C.J. and Danny raced toward it and pressed their faces close, as if they had to see the contents rather than read the labels.
“I want two scoops,” Danny said.
“Me, too.” C.J. licked his lips. “Rocky Road and something else.”
“Peanut butter!”
“Gross,” C.J. said good-naturedly.
Craig glanced over and saw Ben and Jill having a whispered conversation. She was pointing to the display of toppings. Ben listened intently, then nodded.
Craig strolled over to join them. “What are you going to have?” he asked Jill.
“Just some yogurt,” she said. “Ice cream is too rich for me.”
Ten minutes later they were all seated on the benches outside. Danny had settled on a single scoop of peanut butter. C.J. had two scoops of Rocky Road topped with hot fudge. Craig had chosen strawberry ice cream, plain, while Jill was eating yogurt out of a cone. Ben came out of the store last. He had a large dish of yogurt covered with fruit and multicolored sprinkles.
“What was the secret conference about?” Craig asked.
Jill glanced at him, then at the three boys sitting on the next bench. There was a steady flow of traffic in the middle of the afternoon, and the sound of the cars kept their conversation from carrying. Even so, she lowered her voice.
“Ben wanted to know what he should have. He’s sort of on a diet.” She looked at her cone, then at him. While in the ice-cream shop she’d pulled off her sunglasses. Now he could see the bright green of her irises. “We’ve been walking every day.” She laughed. “Actually, I’ve been walking. He’s starting to run and jump and complain about how slow I am. He’s taking a lunch to school and avoiding junk food. It’s only been a week, but I can already see a difference.”
Craig looked at his oldest, hoping she was right. Damn it, the boy deserved better than an unhappy childhood because of something as preventable as his weight. He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy change, but it was possible.
“If nothing else, he seems happier,” Craig said. “He’s out bike riding with us. He never used to do that.”
“I think he’s afraid,” she said. “Of being laughed at. Of being different. He wants to change but doesn’t know how. He also doesn’t want a fuss made.” She smiled. “We have these very indirect conversations. I suppose at some point someone will have to discuss his weight with him, but so far, this plan seems to be working.”
He reached out and touched her arm. “You’ve been good for all of us, Jill. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Something hot and smoky flared to life in her eyes. He told himself it was just a reflection of sunlight, but that didn’t stop his sudden rush of desire. Then she blinked and her expression changed. For a moment, he thought she was going to remind him this was only temporary. He didn’t want to hear that right now. He didn’t want to do anything but sit here and eat his ice cream. He wanted to listen to the boys’ chatter and feel that he was finally doing something right.
She gave him a quick smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said. “I’m having fun.”
He leaned back on the bench and realized that for the first time in weeks, maybe months, the pain in his upper back and neck was gone. He shifted slightly, until their thighs brushed. Need spiraled up to his groin. The aching was a pleasant change from feeling nothing. He could want her without doing anything about the desire. He could admire her without making her a part of his life. He could like her and still be able to let her go.
At least that’s what he was going to keep telling himself…for as long as it took, until the lie became truth.