Lynnette Kent - Single with Kids

He followed Valerie out onto the deck, where Ginny sat with a book. Connor and Grace were climbing on the play set in the shade underneath a grove of pines, but Rob didn’t like Ginny using a swing unless he was nearby.

“What I really need is a security system, with all the doors and windows wired.” Valerie rubbed her hands up and down her arms, though the evening was far from cool. “My last two houses had one. Does your company install alarms?”

Rob blew out a deep, frustrated breath. Another potential sale he had to turn down. “No, we don’t. I can send you to a couple of good companies up in Raleigh. But there’s nobody local who installs and monitors alarms yet. I’m pushing my dad, but…” He shrugged. “Mike’s a little set in his ways.”

Valerie looked at him curiously. “Do you like working with your family?”

“Has its ups and downs.” Mostly downs, lately.

“I know I couldn’t work with my dad. He still can’t believe I actually read the financial pages and run whole departments in big companies. And whenever we go home, he tries to tell me how to parent my kids.” She made a wry face. “I don’t go home very often.”

“The grandparents think they know best, don’t they?”

“Of course. And it’s worse since the divorce. He’s sure I don’t know what I’m doing with Connor.” It was her turn to sigh. “Unfortunately, half the time I think he’s right.”

“Don’t give up yet. I imagine it’s hard on a kid, losing his dad. Does he get to see your ex often?”

She turned away to fiddle with the leaf of a potted plant. “No. Con Sr. doesn’t do kids anymore.”

Rob had a word for men like that, but he kept it to himself. The sun had dropped behind the treetops, leaving the deck and the entire backyard in shadow. Valerie lifted a hand to the nape of her neck and massaged the muscles there. He knew she had a headache, from the tiny line between her brows.

“You must be tired,” he said. “I doubt you got much sleep last night.”

“None.” She looked up, smiling. “But tonight I can sleep safe behind my strong new doors.”

That smile was a killer—sweet and saucy, with the dimple, and yet a little shy. He got hit by the strangest need to trace the shape of her mouth with his fingertip. Or to sample the taste of a kiss.

In his head, bells clanged and a siren screamed. Rob backed all the way to the rail of the deck. “I…think Ginny and I had better be getting home. Leave y’all in peace.” Even an argument with his daughter would be preferable to the wild ideas currently racing through his brain. “Ginny, time to go.”

“I really appreciate all you’ve done.” Valerie followed as he wrangled a protesting Ginny to the front door. “I expect a bill for your time and all the materials.”

“You’ll get one,” he promised. “Or my dad’ll be on my back.” He reached the car without further temptation. “’Night,” he said, as Valerie stood by his open window. He pressed the brake and shifted gears, almost escaped.

Then she placed her hand on the door—a capable hand, with well-tended nails and soft-looking skin. “Rob, we need to get together to talk about the first GO! meeting. I’ve got a general plan, but I want you to contribute. When are you free?”

He’d forgotten GO!. “Anytime,” he said, relaxing in the seat, accepting his fate.

“How’s tomorrow afternoon? Around two?”

“Fine. Shall I come here?”

“That’s good.”

“Okay, then. Y’all have a peaceful night.” He couldn’t help adding, “And call me if you need help this time.”

“Sure.” That reassuring smile meant Not a chance.

“Promise.” He glared at her. “Let me hear you say it.”

Valerie put her hand over her heart. “Okay. I promise.”

Rob nodded. “Right.” She stepped back and he made his getaway. Only for a brief reprieve, though. Tomorrow, he would come back…to a woman who inspired ideas he hadn’t allowed inside his brain for years.

Maybe by tomorrow, he’d have recovered from this temporary insanity. Tomorrow, she’d look like every other woman he’d met in the last eight years. Nice. Ordinary. Right?

Yeah, right. Sunday afternoon, Valerie met him at her new front door, wearing a light-blue sundress. Her shoulders were bare and tan, as were her long, smooth legs.

At the sudden spike in his heart rate, Rob acknowledged the fact that this woman might turn out to be the exact opposite from nice and ordinary, after all.

VALERIE LOOKED BEYOND him as he stepped onto her porch. “Where’s Ginny?”

Before he could answer, though, she gasped. “What a gorgeous car! Is it yours?” Leaving the front door wide open, she rushed out to the driveway. “A ’55 Thunderbird, right? I love the turquoise and white. Oh, and it’s a manual transmission. How cool is that? Aren’t those whitewalls just to die for?”

“Uh…yes.” Rob grinned and leaned a shoulder against the porch post while she circled around his car, making little noises of pleasure. He’d hadn’t seen a woman as cute as Valerie Manion in a long, long time. “Glad you like her.”

She glanced up from her intense study of the taillights. “I know, I’m crazy. My granddad had one of these, and my dad dated my mom with that car. By the time I could drive, though, they’d retired the Thunderbird to a place of honor in the garage. Never took it out, just kept it polished for nostalgia’s sake.” Shaking her head, she backed away. “I used to sit behind the wheel and pretend to drive. But I never got the chance.”

A pretty woman in a sexy sundress, driving his precious ’Bird on a sunny summer day…not an offer a guy could be expected to pass up. He pulled the keys out of his pocket and twirled them around his finger. “Well, then, let’s go. It’s a nice afternoon.”

For a second, her face brightened. “Could we?”

Then a kid’s voice called out something from the backyard, and Valerie shook her head. “No, with only two seats there’s not enough room for Grace and Connor, and I can’t leave them home by themselves. Another time, maybe?” Her hopeful expression convinced him she really meant it.

“Sure. We can park your kids with Ginny at my parents’ house, and take off for a couple of hours. Just say the word.”

She came back to the porch and opened the door again. “I’ll do that. Meanwhile, come in.”

The moving boxes stacked in the living room yesterday had disappeared overnight. Books and pottery and candles filled the shelves on either side of the fireplace, a nice rug covered the floor, and the blank walls displayed photographs of Connor and Grace, along with a couple of signed and numbered prints.

“This looks great,” Rob commented, studying the framed landscape hanging above the couch, as an alternative to staring at Valerie. “Is this one by Stephen Lyman? That’s Half Dome mountain in Yosemite Park, right?”

She came to stand beside him, which defeated the whole exercise. “You know his work?”

How long had it been since he noticed a woman’s scent? Valerie, he’d just discovered, smelled like fresh summer grass. He shifted his weight to put more distance between them. “I was really into the outdoor life when I was in high school. A friend and I had this goal to head out to California on motorcycles and spend a summer camping. I guess I came across one of Lyman’s pictures somewhere and incorporated him into the plan. Those images of firelight in the dark wilderness always appealed to me.”

“And did you get to California?”

“Nope. The friend took off before graduation, I got married and settled down. Have you been out there?”

“We spent our honeymoon in San Francisco.” To his relief, she went to sit in the armchair beside the couch. “My ex-husband wasn’t a camper, but he did agree to spend a couple of days in Yosemite on a driving tour. So I’ve seen it, at least.”