Love and the Single Dad Page 3

  The front door opened. Ethan stood there, waiting, silently reminding Donovan of his promise to meet him in the house in a minute.

  “And so it begins,” his mother said.

  She was right. It was a new chapter, probably the longest one in his book of life, but at this point, mostly blank pages waiting to be written on.

  Chapter Four

  M illie and Ethan went to bed at eight o’clock, exhausted from their long journey and the emotional roller coaster of the day. Restless, Donovan took off for a walk. He considered his options. He could go to Joe’s house three blocks away and have a couple of beers while they watched a Giants game, giving his overloaded mind a break from the relentless thoughts bombarding him. But he was tired of noise. He needed some quiet, which was rare for him.

  It wouldn’t be dark for another half hour or so. He walked the streets of his hometown, seeing it anew. He’d always appreciated the beauty of the place. Nestled in the foothills of the Sierras, the land was green, the air clear. The miners who’d come to the Mother Lode of this part of California in the 1850s had not just mined for gold, but settled the town. Many of the houses built over the years since still survived. Those who built new generally chose designs to fit in with the surroundings, whether Victorian or contemporary log cabin.

  Donovan passed a house with a for-sale sign in the front yard, a smaller “offer pending” tacked across it. Jake and his new wife, Keri, had made an offer, having decided to move into town from Jake’s cabin outside the city limits. The old Braeburn house had been vacant for months, ever since the Widow Braeburn had been moved into a nursing facility, so the transition into the four-bedroom Victorian should be quick.

  Donovan turned right at the corner and realized he was a block from Laura’s street. He wished he had a reason to stop by, but he hadn’t even gathered all of the paperwork she wanted, was still waiting for some information to be faxed or e-mailed before he went to her office tomorrow.

  He could’ve kept going past her block and on to the park nearby, but instead he intentionally walked toward her house. She was out front, watering the garden herself, using a hose instead of her in-ground sprinkling system. Donovan couldn’t name many flowers beyond roses and daisies, much to his landscaper-brother Joe’s disgust, but it didn’t take knowledge of the names to appreciate Laura’s yard. It bloomed with mostly pink and purple flowers, punctuated here and there with a few white blossoms. Her cottage-style house was small, white and homey. He would’ve expected something more sleek and contemporary for her, not this cozy place. Even the neighborhood was mature, with few families, mostly just singles or older couples.

  You’re making yourself old before your time, Laura Bannister.

  Her back to him, she couldn’t see him coming up the sidewalk. She also wore earbuds connected to a music device in her pocket. She’d changed back into the cool shorts and tank top she’d been wearing early that morning when she’d stopped by in her car.

  Donovan couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was a reason she was called The Body. A man could put his hands anywhere on her and enjoy either full curves or smooth planes. Her skin looked touchably soft, as did her hair.

  He came up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

  She spun around, using her hose as a weapon, and soaked his shirt.

  He shouted a laugh, grabbed the nozzle but ended up turning it on her. She shrieked, yelled his name and danced away, as he angled the nozzle toward the ground. She reached over to turn off the faucet, then plunked her fists on her hips and scowled.

  She looked magnificent.

  It was the first time he could remember seeing her ruffled. Well, the first time in fifteen years, anyway.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “I’ll bet.”

  He smiled. She could win any wet T-shirt contest, anywhere, hands down, especially with that nice lace bra revealed.

  A couple of teenage boys rode by on bicycles, staring. Donovan eased in front of her, blocking their view. One wolf-whistled. The other crashed into a parked car. Donovan looked at Laura, whose eyes sparkled. He laughed.

  She crossed her arms, but he could see she’d relaxed.

  “I am sorry,” he said. “I hadn’t intended to get you wet. I was just reacting.”

  “I believe you. It’s funny you came along when you did. I’d just been thinking about you, wondering how you were doing, hoping you were okay. You already needed time away?”

  “He’s asleep. He and Millie were wiped out. And, yes, I needed some time alone.” He moved past Laura and wound the hose on its reel. “I suppose you’re used to that kind of reaction. Those boys,” he said.

  “It’s no different from yours.” She walked up the steps to her front porch. “You’re just quieter about it. You always have been.”

  He followed, even though she hadn’t actually invited him. “You check me out, too.”

  She made a noncommittal sound, then opened her door and went inside, leaving it open, which he took as an invitation. He followed, shutting the door behind him.

  “I’ll toss your shirt in the dryer, if you want,” she said before disappearing down the hallway.

  His shirt wasn’t soaking wet, just a wide stripe down the middle that would probably be almost dry by the time he walked home. But since it suited him to hang around awhile, he peeled his shirt over his head and waited for her to come back.

  When she returned, she’d changed tops. As she walked by him, she swiped his T-shirt out of his hands. He followed as she went into the kitchen and then the laundry room at the other side. She gave his bare chest as much of a look as he’d given her wet T-shirt out front.

  It made him smile. He liked a woman who was sure of herself, sure of her sexuality, someone who could match him in bed, sometimes taking over. She would be a match.

  He also knew they were treading in dangerous waters. The interest had been there for years. It wouldn’t take much for it to get much more personal.

  Or maybe she was just getting even for what had happened—had not happened—years ago, and had decided to tease him with the intent to reject him. Well, it didn’t really matter. He needed a distraction, needed not to think about Ethan for a little while. Or Anne. Laura was as fine a distraction as he could ever wish for.

  The dryer started tumbling and she returned to the kitchen, where he stood looking out her window. It was almost dark.

  “How about a glass of wine?” she asked.

  He would’ve preferred beer. “Sounds good.”

  She poured from a bottle already opened. “Shall we sit outside by the pool?”

  “And let the mosquitoes use us for appetizers?”

  “They should be gone by now.” She passed him a wineglass, then led the way to the backyard. They settled in two lounges, didn’t say anything for a few minutes. He wondered what her thoughts were, since his own were deeply involved in a graphic fantasy.

  “How was the rest of your day?” she asked finally.

  He tried to focus again. “Um, it was good. He’s a great little kid, and not surprisingly overwhelmed by all the new people in his life. We kept it to a minimum, but we’ll add more tomorrow. He’s got cousins a few years older, so that’s going to be helpful. And he’s gone to preschool since he was three, so I figure he’s pretty well socialized.”

  “He’s accepted you already?”

  “No. I didn’t mean to imply that. But one good thing Anne did was to tell him about me. She’d even shown him pictures. And Millie did some research, found out I was here and had talked to him about me during their trip, and about the fact she would be going back to England. She laid good groundwork.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t contact you first, rather than just showing up. Or let you come to them, instead, and be in his own environment.”

  “So was I, but I figure Anne must have assured her I wouldn’t shirk my responsibility. Or Millie decided a surprise attack would be best.” Anger swooped in and pe
cked at him, as it had many times during the day. He’d missed five years with Ethan. Five long years.

  “It looks like you’ll be sticking around Chance City,” Laura said. “Any decisions on your job?”

  “I won’t go anywhere for a while, that much I know. We need time together, for the two of us and for him to get to know his family. I want him to feel comfortable and settled first.”

  “There’s nothing you could do here or from here?”

  “There are probably jobs to be found, but something I’m interested in? Passionate about? I sure haven’t come up with any ideas.”

  “I’ve heard that most journalists are frustrated novelists. Any interest in writing a book?”

  “I’ve thought about it.” He had contacts. Maybe now was the time to put out feelers. “I’ve got enough based-on-a-true-story material to write ten thrillers, but I’m not sure how well I’d do being cooped up in front of a computer all day. I love being in the field, interviewing people, getting into the action.”

  “Getting injured. Fearing for your life. Mmm-hmm. I can see the appeal.”

  He laughed. “It’s rarely that touch-and-go.”

  “So you exaggerate in your articles?”

  “You read my work?”

  Her mouth tightened, as if she’d revealed something she hadn’t wanted to. “I subscribe to NewsView, and you write frequently for them.”

  “They pay the best.”

  “What will happen with the Mexico job you were headed to today?”

  “It gets put on hold. No one else will write the story, if that’s what you mean. It’s not as time-sensitive as some. I’ve been in touch with my editor at NewsView. He understands what’s going on.” He gestured toward the surroundings. “You’ve created quite an Eden for yourself.”

  “My decompression tank.” She sipped her wine. “Have you read Anne’s journal yet?”

  “Started to. It’s pretty painful at the beginning, so I put it aside for now.”

  “I can’t imagine being in your shoes, finding out you have a child after all this time. It must be very helpful having your family.”

  He stared into space, considering her words. “I think it’s harder in some ways.” He turned toward her, set his wineglass on a nearby end table. “It’s like there’s a spotlight on me, following my every move. Everyone will want to have input, you know? All five of my sisters have children and are not shy about offering advice—ever. All but one are older than me, have always mother-henned Jake and Joe and me. My oldest sister, Cher, is fifteen years older than I am, got married at eighteen, has children in their twenties. It’s a helluva formidable group, this family of mine.”

  “I would have no idea what that’s like.”

  He knew her father had left when she was young, so it had been only her and her mother. Laura had always been a loner, even in high school. Donovan graduated three years ahead of her, so he’d only gotten news about her secondhand, from Joe. She’d never tried out to be a cheerleader or run for class office. The boys teased her, as teenage boys always did, not knowing how to deal with a smart, beautiful girl like her. And the other girls didn’t welcome her into their groups, probably because they felt threatened by her.

  When it came down to it, though, it’d been her responsibility to find friends for herself, and she hadn’t done it. On the other hand, she’d ended up as valedictorian, gone on to college and entered beauty pageants, winning the Miss California title, then Miss U.S.A., then was first runner-up for Miss Universe, shocking everyone. Not just because she’d done so well, but because she’d put herself out there like that when she’d stayed behind the scenes in high school.

  Then she’d gone to law school and had been practicing law ever since, here and in Sacramento. But even now, she stayed on the fringes, showing up at events, yet not doing anything to call attention to herself.

  “I didn’t mean to bring the conversation to a halt,” she said, setting her empty glass next to his. “When I said I wouldn’t know what having a big family was like, I wasn’t whining. I was stating a fact.”

  “I didn’t take it that way. I got lost in thought, that’s all. And I’m not saying I’d trade my family for anything, just that in some ways I’d like to take off with Ethan and not come back until we’ve gotten to know each other first, without others interfering.”

  “Why can’t you do that? He won’t start kindergarten for a over month. Take some time.”

  “I’ll think about it. Thanks for inviting me in, Laura. I didn’t know how much I needed to blow off a little steam.” He grinned. “Although I do know of better ways to do it.”

  She gave him that sexy lawyer look. “I’m your attorney.”

  “Okay, so, once everything is handled and you’re not my lawyer anymore?” He tried to look as if he were teasing her, making a game of it, when he was absolutely serious.

  “Unless you take your business to someone else, I’ll still be your attorney. It’s unethical.”

  “Meaning, if I fire you, you’d be interested?”

  The dryer buzzed, loud and long. The ensuing silence slowly refilled with the sounds of crickets and frogs, seeming to chastise Donovan personally for his foolishness.

  He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the lounge. “Are you seeing anyone right now?” he asked.

  “My answer doesn’t matter. Ethics do.”

  “Humor me. It’s not like you’re representing me in a murder trial, you know.”

  “No,” she answered lightly, then stood and headed into the house.

  No, she wasn’t seeing anyone? Or no, she wasn’t going to humor him by answering?

  After a minute he smiled, gathered the empty wineglasses and followed. He rinsed the glasses and set them on her kitchen counter just as she came into the room with his shirt and handed it to him.

  “Thank you,” he said, moving closer to her. “We’ve got unfinished business.”

  “Water over a very old dam, Donovan.”

  He watched a vein throbbing visibly in her neck, a noticeable reaction to their conversation.

  She took a step back. “What part of ‘I’m your lawyer’ don’t you understand?” she asked, even as goose bumps rose on her skin.

  He backed away, drawing his shirt over his head and down, then apologizing.

  “Accepted,” she said.

  “You’ll still be my lawyer?”

  “Of course.”

  “Damn.”

  She laughed, which was what he’d intended.

  “Bring Ethan and Millie with you tomorrow, please,” she said.

  “Sure. Good night, Laura.”

  “Night.”

  She shut the door right away behind him, so there was no awkward moment of whether to turn back and wave. She’d already dealt with it.

  He made the walk to his mother’s house, his thoughts in more turmoil than when he’d left. He never pushed women, had always accepted no as a final answer. Yet he’d pushed Laura to the point that she’d had to remind him about ethics. Him, of all people.

  His mother was seated in a rocking chair when he climbed her porch steps. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Quiet as clouds. Poor little tyke. What a big day he had.”

  Donovan eased onto the porch swing, crossed his feet and set it in motion, his arms stretched along the back. The stars had come out. Not the brilliant blanket it sometimes was when there was no moon, but a scattering.

  “Big day for you, too, son,” Aggie said.

  “Yeah. Big day.” Whatever event might have taken first place in his life before had been drop-kicked into second now.

  “You’ll need to register him for kindergarten right away, so there’s a space for him. Carly said she’d go with you, if you want.”

  “I’ll manage on my own, thanks.” And so it began. Sisters already taking charge.

  “Ethan’ll need a physical. Doc Saxon can do it.”

  I know, I know. “Millie brought his medical records, in
cluding immunizations. Should make the transition easy. I need to get him on my health insurance.”

  His cell phone rang, his brother Jake.

  “Good news,” Jake said. “We got the house. We’ll officially have a fifteen-day escrow, but they said we can move in tomorrow, if we want, and just assume that all the paperwork will go through fine.”

  “That’s terrific.”

  “It is, but what I’m really calling about is to ask if you want to live at the cabin. We decided to keep it as rental property.”

  Jake’s one-bedroom-with-an-office log cabin would be perfect. It was off the beaten path a little, so he and Ethan would be separate from the rest of the family but still close enough to keep the connection tight.

  “That’d be great, thanks, Jake. Perfect. How soon can that happen?”

  “The more help you give, the sooner you can move in.”

  He laughed. “I knew there’d be a catch.”

  “You would’ve helped, anyway.”

  Yeah, he would have. “Do I have to paint?”

  “Probably. And Keri’s been making noise about some new fixtures in the bathrooms. That job you had with Bud Hollenbeck could come in handy.”

  Bud was the best, although slowest working, plumber in town. Donovan has spent one summer working with the man. It had settled Donovan’s mind about getting out of town, since the jobs available to people here in the tiny bedroom community were mostly in the trades or tourist related. He’d had different dreams.

  Jake had left home because he felt he didn’t fit. Donovan had a calling.

  “You never forget how to seat a toilet, do you?” Jake asked, laughter in his voice.

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “We’ll give you the first month rent free for your help.”

  Money wasn’t an issue, which Jake knew. Donovan didn’t own anything, had invested and saved, because his job wasn’t exactly the most secure. “It’s a deal. I walked by there a while ago. House looks in pretty good shape, but the yard needs work.”

  “Keri’s dying to get her hands into the earth. Her earth, she’s calling it. She wants to be planted, then let her roots go deep.”