Lynnette Kent - Single with Kids

Rob dropped onto the end of the couch nearest her chair—too close for comfort, but he didn’t want to be rude. “Maybe we’ll have to get this troop experienced enough so that we can all go out to Yosemite together.”

“Definitely. Older GO! girls are encouraged to set their sights on a big project like that, develop a plan for earning the money and then follow through on the arrangements. It’s a great learning tool.”

Her smile brought the dimple into play. “In the third grade, though, we’re not quite so ambitious. Have you had a chance to look at the books I gave you? There’s some information about the general organization of a meeting.” She pulled out a clipboard and balanced it on her knee…after crossing her legs with a smooth motion that raised his blood pressure ten points.

“I…uh…paged through last night. Sad to say, I fell asleep over the chapter on Safety At The Meeting Place.”

To his relief, she laughed. “I’m not surprised. It’s all pretty basic, commonsense stuff. Let me tell you about some of the ideas I’ve been working on for this first meeting.”

In the next hour, they created a detailed meeting agenda and a rough outline of the first three months’ activities. As they talked, Valerie realized that Rob consistently understated his talents and his preparation for the role he’d assumed as assistant leader. She didn’t have to explain why she made certain choices of activities—he understood what she wanted to do, and his suggestions improved her plans.

“This looks great,” she said, surveying her notes. “A couple of hikes, two cookouts and then the overnight camp before the weather gets too chilly. When the weather changes, we can switch to more indoor activities.”

A glance at the empty coffee table in front of them reminded her that she hadn’t even offered him a cup of coffee. “You must think I’ve got the manners of a carpetbagger. I didn’t ask you if you were thirsty or hungry. I’ve still got some cookies…”

Rob shook his head as he stretched to his feet. “No problem. My mom makes a big Sunday lunch, so I’ve had plenty to eat and drink.”

“I’m well aware of the Southern tradition of hospitality, not to mention great food. I hope it’s contagious.”

Rob chuckled. “I think we figure if somebody’s stuffing their face, they can’t be disputing what we’re trying to say.” He accentuated the drawl, and then gave her a wink. “Pretty wily, us Southerners.”

“Outrageous might be a better word.” She followed him onto the porch. Her new neighborhood wasn’t quite the peaceful setting she’d hoped for—there seemed to be a lot of engine noise in the air, and more traffic than she liked in front of her house. “I guess it’s a good thing the backyard is fenced,” she said, as a car drove by at a speed considerably over the limit. “Connor would be out in the street with his ball before I could sneeze.”

“Yeah, this isn’t the neighborhood I would’ve steered a single mother and her kids to, if they had other options.” He winced as a pair of Harleys roared past. “Or maybe I’m just used to my part of town, where it’s quiet and a lot less hectic. My sister, Jenny, and I bought a big lot that stretches from one street to the next, and put a house for me and Ginny on one end and a house for Jen on the other, with a nice stand of trees between the backyards. Works really well.”

“Your wife didn’t live there with you?” The question was out before she realized what she’d said. “I’m sorry, Rob. It’s none of my business.”

He held up a hand. “It’s okay. I don’t mind telling you. Leah and I had an apartment across town. I didn’t want to live there after…” He swallowed hard. “Her labor didn’t go well, and Ginny had the cord wrapped around her neck. Just real bad luck altogether.”

She put a hand on his wrist. “You must have been devastated.”

“I didn’t get to think about that aspect of things too much. Babies take a lot of time and attention. I was pretty busy.”

“My husband left on a business trip two weeks after Connor was born. I know exactly what you mean.”

“We’re a pair then, aren’t we?” His gaze held hers, and his arm turned under her fingers until their hands closed upon each other, palm to palm. Not a simple handshake, but a deeper, warmer connection. She felt the texture of his skin, felt the strong dome of muscle at the base of his thumb, the deep valley over his life line. They held each other so tightly, a single pulse beat through both of them…or so it seemed.

In another instant, though, he had released her and dropped off the porch steps into the grass. “If you think of anything else you need before Wednesday, just call me,” he instructed, walking backward toward the driveway. “And be sure you use those new locks.”

“I will. Thanks for everything.” She waved to him as he pulled out of the drive, and should have gone inside at that point. Instead, she stayed on the porch, watching the Thunderbird drive down the street until it was lost from sight.

A very nice guy, she thought. A good friend, a great father.

And the sexiest man she’d met in…well, ever. She’d thought she preferred dark, compact professional men, until Rob. Now, tall and blond and lean was her idea of perfect. Forget the business suits and ties—give her a guy in a baseball cap, a black T-shirt and jeans faded to nearly white, with a rip across the knee and frayed hems. Let him drive a 1955 Thunderbird, turquoise and white. Her heart pounded just remembering how great he looked in that car.

Grace joined her on the porch. “Mr. Warren’s nice, isn’t he?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“You could go on a date with him. Ginny said her mom died a long time ago.”

“I don’t think Mr. Warren and I will be dating, Gracie.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” She gave in to a moment of temptation and imagined Rob with her on a date. Specifically, the end of the date, where he would reach across that white leather seat, take her in his arms and lift her chin up, then press his mouth to hers…

“We work together, and that’s all. For the troop. There can’t be any other complications.” She shooed Grace into the house and followed close behind, hoping she could heed her own sensible advice.

Otherwise, she had absolutely no doubt that indulging her attraction to Rob Warren would qualify as the most colossal complication of them all.

AS SOON AS HE opened the shop door on Monday morning, Rob heard his dad’s voice rumbling in a constant stream of complaints. When he looked in the doorway of the office, he found Mike Warren standing in front of the file cabinets with half the drawers already open. A pile of folders and a messy stack of loose papers on top of the desk reversed all the progress Jen had made during the weekend.

“What’s going on, Dad?” Rob stepped into the small room and noticed—again—the dusty window and blinds, the worn paint on the walls, the outdated calendar. The place needed a serious face-lift. If only he had the time…

“I was lookin’ for the invoice from that latest order we placed for lock sets. I know I laid it on the desk here last week, but I’m damned if the whole place wasn’t straightened up, so this morning I can’t find a damn pencil, let alone the papers I need.” Mike paged through one folder, pushed it aside and started on another as the papers in the first folder slid toward the edge of the desk and then the floor.

“Jen came in to do some organizing.” Rob caught the papers just before they fell, stacked them together and put them back into the folder. “Maybe what you’re looking for is in a file.”

“Yeah, well, why do you think I’ve got this stuff out on the desk?” His dad made a helpless gesture with his hands. “But the only folder I can find with the company name on it is catalogs. I don’t need the catalog, I need the damn invoice.”