Chapter Six

While the boys napped the following day, Gina slipped safe-deposit box key R753 back into Will’s bedroom drawer. There was no way to tell where this key came from, and even if she knew, she’d learned through internet research only authorized persons could sign in to gain access to the box.

Discouraged, she sank down on Will’s bed. Her search for the missing diamonds had led nowhere, and she was drawn into the Sinclair family more each day. Yesterday at the beach, they’d laughed and sung together, and she’d felt like one of them.

Gently smoothing the bedspread with her fingers, she quickly pulled back her hand. She was starting to like Will too much. His rugged masculinity mixed with his tenderness with the boys was a powerful turn-on. She hugged her arms, knowing she had to fight it.

Later, when the boys woke, she sat with them at the kitchen table cutting out Play-Doh shapes.

“We went shopping last night,” Harry said, “and bought lettuce and tomatoes.”

“We got to push the cart,” Ian added. “It goes really fast.”

Harry nodded. “Will yelled, ‘Stop!’”

Picturing Will and his eager helpers, she laughed.

“We’re making spaghetti tonight,” Ian said, “and we want you to come.”

Bad idea. “Sorry, guys. Tonight, I’ve got to go grocery shopping, too. I’m out of milk.”

Harry handed her a pink Play-Doh heart. “You’ve got to come. We get to cook.”

Ian chimed in. “Me and Harry are cutting vegetables for the salad.”

“It’ll be good,” Harry promised.

“I’m sure it will be.” She hated to disappoint them, but she cared too much for these boys already. Staying for dinner would not be wise. The boys dropped the subject until their father came home later that afternoon. Sitting on the carpet playing Go Fish with the boys, she sensed his presence. He stood in the doorway, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his hair rumpled. Rough day? Their eyes met and held.

Glancing up from his cards, Harry spotted him. “Hey, Will, can we have Gina for dinner?”

Will’s mouth quirked at Harry’s phrasing, and hers did, too.

“She’s out of milk,” Ian said. “Let’s give ’er some of ours.”

She shook her head, but Will didn’t catch the hint. “Gina’s welcome to stay if she’d like. And we have plenty of milk to share.”

Further protests would be ungracious, so she smiled. “Well, I do love spaghetti.”

The boys cheered, and the threesome resumed their card game while Will went upstairs to change clothes. Moments later he returned, wearing a purple Husky T-shirt, walking shorts, and sandals. Gina caught her breath at his broad shoulders and muscular limbs—a warrior’s build. But his face had lost its hardness from the day they’d first met. He smiled more, and laughed, and showed incredible patience with his sons. His transformation was great for his boys, but it seriously undermined her objectivity.

Will led the three of them into the kitchen and rubbed his hands together. “I guess we should start by cooking the hamburger.” He turned to Gina, as though expecting her to take charge.

“Shared tasks,” she reminded him.

Brows lifted, he pointed to his chest. “Moi?”

She laughed and sat down at the kitchen table with the photo album she’d started of him and the boys. There were several good shots of them at the beach. The one with the black Labrador could be a Hallmark card. Will and his sons grinned happily. Even the dog was smiling.

Activity from across the room drew her attention. The clank of metal pans, the opening and closing of the refrigerator, the low-voiced exchanges between man and boys. “What are these red things, Will?”

“Radishes.”

“Can we eat ’em?”

“Sure.”

“I want a sharp knife.”

“Use a plastic one. It will cut the vegetables, but not you.”

“Can I cook the meat?”

“I’ll do the stove stuff. You guys make salad.”

Gina smiled at the picture of Will and Ian on their return from clothes shopping. Ian grinned proudly in his camouflage cargo pants with oversized pockets that snapped and a yellow SpongeBob shirt. Will had bought five identical outfits, along with bright yellow SpongeBob pajamas. Just the one pair.

The cooks began singing another dog song—“BINGO”—and she glanced up. The boys were perched on stools, sawing vegetables with plastic knives. Will stood reading the label on the jar of spaghetti sauce.

The touching scene raised questions in her mind. Was it possible to be a caring father as well as a thief? Her speculation shattered when three things happened at once. The pot of spaghetti boiled over onto the hot burner and hissed. Harry held up his index finger and yelled, “I’m bleeding!”

And Ian slid off his stool to recover the tomato he’d dropped and stepped on it squarely. “It’s squished,” he wailed, slumping to the floor.

Will grabbed pot holders and moved the boiling pot to a cold burner. Then wet a paper towel and wrapped it around Harry’s finger. “Hold onto this and squeeze just a little to stop the bleeding.”

She started across the kitchen to help as Will ran a comforting hand over Harry’s shoulder then turned and knelt to meet Ian at eye level. “Good thing we have more tomatoes, huh, pal. Let’s clean this up, then you can get another one.”

She stopped as he handed Ian another paper towel then got one for himself, and the two of them wiped up the squishy mess. As Will put their towels in the garbage, Ian opened the refrigerator and got out another tomato. Will turned back to Harry and unwrapped his paper towel, their dark brown heads bent close together.

“No more blood,” Will said. “Time for a Band-Aid.”

He got one from the cupboard, washed and dried off the cut, then bandaged Harry’s wound as Ian climbed back on his stool and cut a second tomato. Impressed, Gina returned to her chair. Will kept a cool head in emergencies.

The crisis resolved, he stood to give her a wide-eyed look of mock horror. “Is it often like this?”

She nodded. “Every day.”

The slow smile he gave her sent warm ripples clear to her toes. She returned his smile then looked back at the photo album. The camaraderie and heat growing between them grew stronger each day. His humor and sensitivity were stealing her heart.

Her brother insisted he was the thief. Both of them had been in the Vandenburg home the day of the theft, but others had been there, too. Kyle’s friend, Smitty, for one. Had he or another member of the work crew stolen the jewelry?

She considered the possibilities until a nasty smell drifted her way. She turned toward the bubbling sounds coming from the stove. “Something’s burning!”

Will swore and hurriedly slid the pan off the red-hot burner then stirred the spaghetti sauce with a wooden spoon. “It’s black on the bottom.” He flung a pot holder on the counter in disgust.

“Scoop off the top part that didn’t burn,” she suggested. “It might taste okay.”

Moments later, the foursome sat at the table. Will heaped spaghetti onto Harry’s plate and covered it with sauce. Gina did the same for Ian. “Dig in,” Will urged.

Harry took a bite, then stuck out his tongue. “This tastes yucky.”

Will sampled his and grunted. “It needs ketchup.”

He got a bottle from the refrigerator and poured a generous portion over his noodles. “There, that should do it.”

He took a bite and chewed slowly, then scrunched up his face. “Don’t eat it.”

“But we’re hungry,” Harry said.

Will heaped green beans and applesauce on Harry’s plate. “Fill up on this.”

He sighed as she did the same with Ian’s plate. “Tomorrow we’ll have hamburgers. That should be simpler.” He glanced at Gina. “Any suggestions?”

A couple came to mind—cook on low heat and keep the Band-Aids handy—but she shook her head. Will could only learn by doing. “Just keep at it. You’ll get it right.”

…

The Bony Hand gripped Will’s shoulders and shook him hard. He tried to shrug it off, but The Hand’s grip tightened. Swiping at it with his arm, Will encountered warm flesh. Startled, he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. In the dim light, he saw Gina bent over him.

“It’s after eight,” she whispered. “Don’t you have to be at work?”

Yawning, he noticed how good she smelled, like roses and fresh coffee. He wondered what she was doing in his bedroom until a third smell—wet canvas—brought it all back. He and the boys had slept outside in the tent last night.

He groaned at the stiffness in his back and the memory of setting up camp. The boys had been hyper and eager to help, getting in the way and misplacing items he set out. Finished with the tent, they’d poked twigs into the campfire and listened in openmouthed wonder to his gripping tale of the evil Bony Hand in search of his missing body. Later, he’d worried they’d have nightmares.

Gazing up at Gina, he pulled his bare arms free of his sleeping bag. “I’ll go in late.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “I’m the boss.”

She nodded. Her hair was pulled back in her usual tight braid, but in the tent’s dim light she looked softer and young. And very desirable.

“How did the boys do last night?” she asked.

Will glanced over to see them burrowed into their down-filled bags, small noses protruding and sleeping like logs. No Bony Hand nightmares. “They loved it.”

She grinned. “Did you love it, too?”

“Not so much. My air mattress went flat.”

“Uh-oh. Did you get any sleep?”

“Very little. Our ‘quiet’ little neighborhood comes alive at night.”

“How so?”

He grimaced. “It started with the mosquito buzzing my ear. The police sirens came next, which set the neighborhood dogs to howling.”

“Bummer.”

He frowned. Was that amusement in her voice? “The neighbor with the bad muffler left for work around four o’clock, and soon after a traffic helicopter thumped overhead.”

She coughed into her hand, clearly smothering a laugh. “Maybe you should stay home today.”

He shook his head. “I’ve got hungry mouths to feed.”

“And paychecks to write.”

“So true.” But he hated to shatter this special moment with her. Their hushed conversation felt like the early morning whispers of lovers. They were not alone, but the boys were dead to the world. He could easily cup his hand behind her neck and pull her down for a long, lazy kiss. Then curl up spoon-like behind her to savor her warmth as they drifted back to sleep.

Who are you kidding? Chiding himself for wicked thoughts, he pushed up on his elbows. “Go make us some coffee before I shock you.”

She didn’t move. Was she held by the powerful attraction between them?

She stared at his bare arms and chest. “Aren’t you cold, sleeping only in pajama bottoms?”

He couldn’t resist. “What pajama bottoms?”

Despite the dark tent, he saw her cheeks redden.

“Coffee. Right.” She scooted quickly toward the door flap.

“Better hurry,” he warned. Before he turned caveman and dragged her into his sleeping bag.

She kept her back to him moments later as he crossed the kitchen shirtless and barefoot, wearing only jeans. He took the stairs two at a time, showered, and dressed hurriedly, grateful he had no morning appointments.

Wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt and khaki slacks, he returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table set with a bowl of oatmeal and sliced banana, a carton of milk, and whole-wheat toast. Healthy kid food. It looked good.

Gina wiped counters and washed dishes while he ate. Was she always this busy, or was he making her nervous? “Come join me,” he said.

She poured two cups of coffee and set one beside his bowl then sat opposite him with the other.

“Thanks… I like your outfit.” Less layered today, she wore a skirt that ended below her knees and a lavender tank top that fit snugly. What would it be like to sit across from her every morning? She seemed a part of the family now, and his fascination with her grew daily. Not the usual sort of woman he dated, yet despite her odd dress, she appealed to him. He sensed hidden depths he’d like to explore and wanted to have a conversation that, for once, had nothing to do with the boys.

Finished with his cereal, he pushed the bowl aside. “If you could have three wishes, what would they be?”

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin. “A gourmet chef to cook my dinners every night. A maid to clean my house. And a winning lottery ticket.”

Not what he wanted to hear. “Seriously.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Never.”

“Well…I wish I could sing like Christina Aguilera.”

He choked on his coffee. “Really?”

“Really. I love to sing, but I’ve been told I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

“How rude.” Remembering her off-key rendition of the doggie song, he grinned. “And so untrue.”

“Liar.”

He laughed. “So what’s your second wish?”

“That’s easy. I want to have a plane of my own to fly.”

Another surprise. “Why?”

“Flying means freedom. Going where I want, when I want. Seeing all there is to see.”

He set down his cup. “No wish for a husband? For three kids, plus Fido?”

“That’s not for me.”

That surprised him most of all. “How about money or a career?”

“No thanks. I’ll save my third wish for a rainy day.”

“What if it doesn’t rain?”

Her face tightened. “It always rains.”

He fell silent, remembering the past hurts she’d shared that day at the beach.

“What about you?” she asked. “What three wishes do you want?”

He grinned. “Faster horses, younger women, and more money.”

“Seriously.”

He paused. “I want a good relationship with my boys.”

“That one’s coming true.”

“I hope so. I also want to make a go of my business. To win back the clients I’ve lost and show a profit.”

A look he couldn’t identify crossed her face. “That’s two.”

His third wish involved her and would send her running. He repressed it. “I want to fly with you in your airplane.”

She yelped with surprise. “You’d better hope I can fly a lot better than I sing.”

The laugh they shared warmed his heart. “You need to smile more. It lights up your face.”

Looking into her eyes, sensual awareness spread through him. Gina was a beautiful and alluring woman.

At the sound of the kitchen door opening, he reluctantly turned to the doorway. Ian shuffled inside, clutching a teddy bear, his hair tousled. He looked half asleep in his SpongeBob pajamas. “Gotta pee,” he mumbled. He walked to the bathroom off the kitchen and shut the door behind him.

Stunned, Will turned to Gina. The surprise in her eyes mirrored his own. “Did we just witness a miracle?”

“I think so,” she breathed.

They sat listening to the sound of the toilet flushing and water running into the sink. Ian came back out and headed for the back door. His hand on the knob, he turned back. “Will, can we sleep in the tent tonight?”

Will thought of the noise and the hard ground and the hours of missed sleep. They meant nothing compared to the hopeful gleam in Ian’s eyes. He nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

Ian grinned. “See ya tonight.”

“See ya tonight.” Will’s chest tightened as he watched his son go. Ian had smiled at him and wanted to spend time together. Will turned to Gina. He owed her so much. “Thank you for what just happened.”

“I didn’t do anything—”

“Of course you did. Your coaching helped me connect with my sons. It was a lucky day for our family when you came into our lives.”

She stood abruptly and looked away. “You’d better get to work.”

…

The following week, Gina and the boys were playing hide-and-seek when Will came home from work. She smiled when he quickly joined in.

“Here I come, ready or not!”

At Harry’s warning, she raced from her too-visible spot amidst the pines to the large hydrangea in the far corner of the backyard. He was supposed to sing two verses of the doggie song before seeking them out. But each time he was IT, they barely had time to scramble for cover. Hunched low, Gina dove behind the bush and barreled into Will, already crouched there.

“Whoa.” He grunted as she hit his outstretched hands. His head slammed back against the board fence behind them. “Owww.”

“Sorry. I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”

Rubbing his head, he winced. “You rang my bell.”

Perched on his lap, she quickly scrambled off to sit beside him and slip her hand behind his head. When her fingers grazed a bump, he groaned. Damn. He was hurt. “You need ice.”

She started to stand, but he caught her wrist and tugged her back down onto his lap. “Too late. Harry’s coming.”

“But your head…” Tending his goose egg seemed more important than the game.

His arms came around her and pulled her loosely against him. “Stay quiet.”

She turned her head to peer through the greenery and watch for Harry, but her pulse drummed in her throat. Her real focus was on the hard-bodied man holding her close. So strong, yet so gentle. So hard to resist.

His warm breath fanned her cheek. “Mmm, you smell good.” So did he, all masculine and outdoorsy.

His gentle touch sent tingles down her spine. I can’t let this happen. He betrayed my brother…didn’t he? She was no longer sure.

He was definitely a caring father who loved his sons enough to sleep on hard ground and sing goofy songs to please them. And he made her laugh.

When she turned in his arms to stop him, he traced her lower lip with his thumb. Her heart fluttered like the wings of a trapped bird. Tightening his hold, he bent his head slowly, giving her time to pull away. Enveloped in his warmth, she closed her eyes, awaiting his kiss. Seconds passed.

Eyes opening, she found his mouth a whisper shy of claiming hers.

“Your move.”

She stilled. There would be no kiss unless she showed him she wanted it, too. A terribly wrong choice, yet a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Conflicted, she grazed his lightly whiskered jaw with her fingertips. He nipped them and ignited a wildfire of passion that raged through her and left her aching for more. Drawing a ragged breath, she brushed her lips against his.

His arms slipped around her, and his mouth moved on hers, deepening their kiss. The fire within her grew molten and greedy. She slid her hands over his shoulders to spear her fingers through his hair. Tasting him, feeling him, discovering a world of sensuality she’d never known. Smoothing her spine, he drew her closer still. His tongue found hers and began a slow, delicious dance.

Running footsteps neared their hideout as Harry closed in. Will groaned against her lips. “Go away, son.”

She almost groaned, too. Harry would be shocked to find his nanny kissing his dad. When branches rustled near her ear, she pulled back from Will.

Harry’s grinning face poked through the foliage. “I see you, Gina, ” he called gleefully. “You too, Will.” Then he was gone, running back to touch base, the back door of the house.

Pushing off Will’s lap, she met his stunned gaze. He seemed as unsettled as she over their passionate kiss.

Harry’s shout sounded in the distance. “One, two, three, Gina. You’re IT!”

She stood shakily. Will’s steadying arm encircled her waist. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.” She shook her head as recriminations set in. Kissing Will was a huge mistake. There could never be anything between them.

She pulled away from him, but he caught her hand. “Gina, wait…”

“No.” She pulled free of him and strode toward the house. “This was wrong. It can’t happen again.”

…

Approaching the Sinclair home the following morning, Gina winced. Hot kisses in the hydrangea bush? What was I thinking?

Today she had to set firm boundaries with Will and determine, once and for all, if he was the thief Kyle claimed he was. Her instincts said no, he was too decent, but she had to be sure.

He answered her knock, his expression solemn. Probably regretting yesterday’s madness, too.

“Good morning, Gina.”

“Good morning. Are the boys up?”

“They’re watching cartoons. Let’s talk for a minute.”

She followed him to his den, summoning her resolve. Intent on discouraging his attraction to her, she’d gone makeup free today and wore her worst outfit—an olive-green shirt with a splotch-print skirt. Will, of course, looked drop-dead handsome in a teal polo shirt and tan slacks. Her fists clenched. Going ugly for a sexy man who’d kissed you senseless was hard.

“I’m sorry about what happened yesterday,” he said.

She nodded. “Me, too.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Her hideous appearance was already working.

“You’re an attractive woman, Gina, but it’s inappropriate for me, as your employer, to think about you that way.”

“Okay.” She breathed out slowly.

“The boys are happy here for the first time, largely because of you. I don’t want to do anything to screw that up.”

“Right.” The boys were also happy because they’d discovered what a great dad they had.

“So, I’m going to start dating again. Thanks to you, I can.”

She nodded, surprised. “Good for you.” This was just what she wanted. It should make her feel good. But the thought of him with another woman tied her stomach in knots.

He held out his hand. “Friends?”

A part of her protested. No, I want more. But there was no other choice. She shook his hand. “Friends.”