Книга - A Gleam In His Eye

A Gleam In His Eye
Terry Essig


SHE'D TRADE A MINIVAN FOR A BACHELORETTE PAD.…At the ripe age of 25, Johanna Durbin had raised six siblings. Now, on the verge of becoming carefree at last, she met Mr. Right. Rugged, sensitive, and available, Hunter Pace was everything she was looking for–except footloose and fancy free.…HE'D SWAPPED HIS BACHELOR PAD FOR A MINIVAN!With a brood of orphaned nieces and nephews under his roof, Hunter was fast becoming an expert on carpooling, first aid, and toothbrushes in the toilet! But some things simply demanded a woman's loving touch. Hunter soon realized he was one of them. Could he convince Johanna that his intentions were strictly honorable…and very personal?







Johanna didn’t kiss on a first date and this could hardly even be called that.

Some guy buying you ice cream out of gratitude for saving his kid’s life wasn’t a date, now was it?

Maybe she was reading too much into this.

Wasn’t it possible that Hunter was simply a toucher? You know, not touchy-feely in a bad kind of way, just…tactile. Who knew? Maybe he kissed everybody goodbye. For all she knew, he might have some French blood in his heritage. Then it wouldn’t be a first date kind of kiss, but just a social kind of thing. The French were always kissing each other.

Johanna angled her head to better meet Hunter’s kiss. She’d never been kissed by a Frenchman….


Dear Reader,

Silhouette’s 20th anniversary celebration continues this month in Romance, with more not-to-be-missed novels that take you on the romantic journey from courtship to commitment.

First we revisit STORKVILLE, USA, where a jaded Native American rancher seems interested in His Expectant Neighbor. Don’t miss this second book in the series by Susan Meier! Next, New York Times bestselling author Kasey Michaels returns to the lineup, launching her new miniseries, THE CHANDLERS REQUEST….One bride, two grooms—who will end up Marrying Maddy? In Daddy in Dress Blues by Cathie Linz, a Marine embarks on his most terrifying mission—fatherhood!—with the help of a pretty preschool teacher.

Then Valerie Parv whisks us to a faraway kingdom as THE CARRAMER CROWN continues. The Princess’s Proposal puts the lovely Adrienne and her American nemesis on a collision course with…love. The ever-delightful Terry Essig tells the tale of a bachelor, his orphaned brood and the woman who sparks A Gleam in His Eye. Shhh….We can’t give anything away, but you must learn The Librarian’s Secret Wish. Carol Grace knows…and she’s anxious to tell you!

Happy Reading!






Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor




A Gleam in His Eye

Terry Essig







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Books by Terry Essig


Silhouette Romance

House Calls #552

The Wedding March #662

Fearless Father #725

Housemates #1015

Hardheaded Woman #1044

Daddy on Board #1114

Mad for the Dad #1198

What the Nursery Needs… #1272

The Baby Magnet #1435

A Gleam in His Eye #1472

Silhouette Special Edition

Father of the Brood #796




TERRY ESSIG


says that writing is her escape valve from a life that leaves very little time for recreation or hobbies. With a husband and six young children, Terry works on her stories a little at a time, between seeing to her children’s piano, sax and trombone lessons, their gymnastics, ice skating and swim team practices, and her own activities of leading a Brownie troop, participating in a car pool and attending organic chemistry classes. Her ideas, she says, come from her imagination and her life—neither one of which is lacking!




Contents


Chapter One (#u2ba8231e-253b-5714-8cc0-8bd2e4357114)

Chapter Two (#u6c1a8aba-4f59-536c-83e9-5894c2034e5c)

Chapter Three (#u7e8a1554-078b-5c00-bc85-0affbaaac873)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


“All right, you guys,” swim coach Johanna Durbin yelled at her bedraggled, dripping group of eight-year-olds and unders. “Now you pay for that last horrendous set of freestyle. Everybody get your sticks. It’s time to beat a few bottoms.”

What? Hunter Pace soared to his feet. The transition from uncle to parent had been recent for him, and times had certainly changed since he was a kid, but he was fairly certain physical contact was illegal. Even if it wasn’t, nobody, nowhere, no how and no matter how good-looking was touching a member of his new family with a stick. Suddenly he was very glad he’d decided to stick around and watch his niece and nephew’s swim practice.

Hunter started moving but paused at the end of his bench in the bleacher stand. None of the kids looked upset. Sure, they were groaning and complaining, but they all headed for their swim bags with next to no foot-dragging, and returned to the pool’s side, foot-long chunks of dowel rod in hand.

“You beat Matt last week, Coach Jo. Can it be my turn today?” one little darling dared to tease.

“Beat Billy, Coach Jo. He cutted in front of me again.”

“Nuh-uh” came the immediate denial.

“Uh-uh.”

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” contributed one child, legs crossed and hand pressed firmly between her legs. Johanna waved her toward the locker room.

“Beat the new kids. Maybe it’ll make them swim faster.”

Hunter half rose again.

“Marcus,” said Coach Jo, “you know the rules. No put-downs. Karen and Robby just started swim team. They’ll get faster all by themselves as they practice, just like you did. I think maybe I’ll beat you instead.”

Yeah, thought Hunter. Beat the little jerkface, picking on his niece and nephew like that.

But the little jerkface danced out of Coach Jo’s reach. “Gotta catch me first,” he said, and dived into the pool. “Besides, you just pretended to beat Billy. He told me so,” Marcus added when his head cleared the surface.

“Oh, yeah?” Coach Jo asked. “Watch this.” She grabbed the child next to her, who happened to be her little sister, flipped her upside down and lightly tapped her seat while making loud smacking sounds.

The kids all laughed, including the victim. “I’m telling Mom,” the small fry said.

Johanna fell willingly into the trap. “Oh, no, don’t do that, Aubrey. Don’t tell Mom on me. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. How about an extra piece of my birthday cake come Friday?”

Five other youngsters pressed close.

“I’ll let you beat me, Coach Jo, if you bring me a piece of your birthday cake.”

“What kind is it going to be?” another one wanted to know before committing himself.

“Chocolate.”

“How old you gonna be, Coach Jo?”

“Old,” Jo’s little sister replied. “Really old.” She danced back out of Johanna’s reach. “Twenty-five. My mom says that’s three times as old as us guys.”

“Man,” a little blonde said reverently. “That is old.”

Hunter eavesdropped shamelessly, calmer as he saw the coach in action. Twenty-five, hmm? Only a few years younger than he. Hunter wasn’t yet sure if he totally approved of the blond dynamo, but he was a desperate man and becoming more so with every passing day. He couldn’t help but notice Coach Jo’s bare left hand.

This was a new sensation for Hunter. He enjoyed women, certainly. What wasn’t there to enjoy about them? The opposite sex was delightful with their softer curves and interesting, um, shaping. And their minds! Well their minds were a fascinating foreign landscape a man could travel forever and never quite be able to map out. Oh, yes, Hunter loved them dearly, each and every puzzling one, but he’d never been much interested in attaching himself permanently to one. In fact, up to now, he’d avoided marriage at all costs. Whenever he dated a woman, he kept a careful watch for signs of nesting. If she started detouring him through the baby section during a harmless stroll through the local department store and investigating the local school system in his neighborhood, he knew he had to end the relationship—or risk losing his bachelor freedom. Hunter just hadn’t been ready for marriage or family. Until now.

Hunter sighed. Unfortunately, through absolutely no fault of his own, things had changed and he found himself with a bad case of ready or not, here they come. Hunter needed a woman in his life. He needed a mother for his brood. His niece and nephews were now his, permanent, full-time for the next fifteen to twenty years. His big brother was up there somewhere laughing at him, he just knew it. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” he muttered to the heavens. “But I’ll be joining you someday myself, probably a lot sooner than I ever thought if your kids have their way, and I will get my payback. See if I don’t.”

When his brother and sister-in-law had died in that accident, leaving Hunter their four children to raise, he’d been so naively sure he could handle things by himself. How hard could it be to throw food in front of the little miscreants a few times a day and send them up to bed at eight-thirty every night?

Hard. His recently acquired crew of four had spent the last month and a half proving just how hard it could be. Because of their recent loss, the kids had trouble letting Hunter out of their sight, trouble sleeping in the dark, trouble…just lots of trouble. Hunter needed help and he was becoming desperate enough to admit it.

Now, when he was finally ready to be caught, the women of his acquaintance all seemed to have done an abrupt about-face. It wasn’t really a change of heart, the last one had earnestly assured him. Certainly she wanted children—her own. Elaine simply hadn’t been ready to take on four of somebody else’s before she’d even taken her own genetic code down from the shelf and dusted it off.

Hunter nodded thoughtfully as he observed. Now, this young lady seemed to actually enjoy young children. Why or how he couldn’t begin to imagine. It’s not as if kids could discuss the Cubs latest trade or the stock trends with you. But then, as he’d noticed more than once before, the female mental landscape was one confusing place. Hunter shook his head and tuned back into the other apparently delicate matter of Coach Jo’s age.

“Thanks a lot, Aubrey.” Johanna glared at her sister. “All right, big mouth, now you’re in for it.”

“Chocolate frosting, too?”

“With sprinkles,” Johanna confirmed, her attention momentarily diverted from her unable-to-keep-anything-secret younger sibling.

“I guess you could beat me,” one more said after brief consideration. “So long as the sprinkles are chocolate, too.”

“Too late to take it back,” Aubrey said with a smirk. “She already promised me the extra cake and I decided not to tell.”

“I just may tell Mom myself what a little con artist you’ve become, young lady.” Then Johanna hugged her. “Oh, well, a deal’s a deal. All right, everybody in the water. Do a good job and I just might bring cupcakes for everybody. Ten fifties freestyle stroke drill on the one-twenty. Watch the pace clock.” Johanna turned to study the large poolside clock. “All right,” she said as the second hand approached the top of the clock. “Ready and…go.”

Hunter Pace watched his seven-year-old niece and eight-year-old nephew look around in confusion. He didn’t blame them. Any attempts at poolside order and organization were well hidden. It was his children’s first session ever with a swim team, and the energetic and incredibly vivacious coach seemed to be speaking Greek. He rose, prepared to go question Coach Jo on the directions and decipher them for Karen and Robby. Truth be told, he wouldn’t mind getting close to the kids’ new coach again. Her coaching style seemed a bit unorthodox to him, but anybody who exuded the natural sex appeal Coach Johanna exuded got the benefit of his doubt. He’d make it a point to keep an eye on her, that was all. The closer eye the better. Coach Johanna was not only a looker, she smelled like a ripe peach. Hunter had discovered that interesting tidbit when he’d introduced Karen, Robby and himself at the beginning of the session. He’d always had a thing for peaches. And fruits were, after all, an important part of any man’s diet.

But before he could even rise to his full six foot two, he realized it would be once again unnecessary for him to interfere and sat back down. His thighs were really getting a workout what with all this standing up and sitting down. He could probably leave the leg sets out of his regime later on that night.

Coach Johanna already had her arms around his niece and nephew while she instructed them as to what she wanted them to do. Then she handed them each a twelve-inch length of thick dowel rod and gestured at the children swimming in the pool, as she pointed out the correct way to use the sticks for the freestyle drill. She pointed out the large clock propped up by the pool’s side and explained that ten fifties meant swimming fifty yards, or to one end of the pool and back, ten times.

Karen and Robby nodded seriously several times, their little chests heaving from all the exertion. Maybe they should sit down. He was trying to wear them out so he could get them to bed at a decent time, not kill them. Once again Hunter got up to interfere, and once again found it unnecessary. He was starting to feel like a jack-in-the-box. He watched while Johanna directed Robby and Karen to sit on the edge of the pool, where they kicked their feet in the water and called out times from the clock as kids came in and hit the wall.

Never turning her back to the water, Johanna began picking up kickboards from around the pool’s edge and stacking them neatly. Positioning herself so that the swimmers were always in her sight presented her backside to the gallery, giving Hunter a view he greatly appreciated.

After the first two sets, Johanna took Robby and Karen over to the slowest lane and had them slide in. She walked along the edge of the pool beside them, encouraging them as they tried to copy the other children, holding the rod out in front of them while they stroked one arm, grabbed the rod with that hand, then rotated the other arm.

“Stretch out,” Johanna yelled. “That’s it, reach for it. Now kick. Kick, kick, kick! Good job. Put your face in the water and only turn your head to breathe every third stroke. That a way! You’re going to be awesome swimmers, I can already tell.”

Hunter swelled with newly acquired parental pride. Of course they’d be awesome. Why just look at them, they were like little fish out there, obviously in their element. His eyes narrowed in contemplation. Just exactly what kind of credentials did this young swim coach have? She obviously could recognize pure talent when she saw it, but beyond that? Karen and Robby should have the best, after all. Just look how quickly they caught on—see how they hung on to that stick? Neither one had dropped it yet. Well, anyone that coordinated could very easily have Olympic potential.

Johanna handed out stopwatches at the end of the set and walked the youngsters through taking their own pulse. She doubted any of them were even close to getting the correct rate, but eventually it would click in and they’d be able to do it. And it made them feel like big shots, keeping their interest level high. She didn’t want any eight-year-old burn-outs, which was why she tried to vary the practices and keep everything low-key and nonthreatening. This practice, however, had been uncomfortable for her. She’d never really quite found her groove. There’d been two new kids, cute but without a whole heck of a lot of natural athletic ability. Johanna certainly recognized that not everyone would go to the Olympics or even swim collegially, and in general, she disliked that elitist attitude so many sport enthusiasts took—her student Marcus and his parents a case in point. You didn’t have to have Olympic potential to benefit from and enjoy a good, wholesome sport. Exercise was good for everyone, after all. And with a lot of work those two new little water sprites might be good enough to at least swim competitively during high school, maybe even earn a letter.

No, the kids weren’t the problem.

It was the dad.

He’d stared at her almost the whole time until she’d wanted to stop and make sure she didn’t have her shorts on inside out or backward. Heck, he was still staring at her. She’d been doing this for a million years and he had her feeling self-conscious. She never felt self-conscious. Well, at least not much anymore. Johanna did not appreciate the fact that this man she didn’t even know could make her feel that way now.

Johanna blew her whistle. “Okay, my little munchkins, that’s it for tonight. I need all my stopwatches back in my box, the kickboards and pull buoys back in their bins, and I need everybody to take all their stuff home with them. Next pair of goggles I pick up off the deck are mine. I could use a nice new pair. Anybody who leaves their swimsuit in the locker room loses it. I’m wearing it next time.”

That got a good laugh.

“Coach Jo, you couldn’t wear our swimsuits. They’re too little.”

“Oh, yeah? Maybe I’ll put one on each leg and one on each arm, ever think of that? And I’d have enough to do it, too, if last practice was any indication. If I wanted to be a maid I’d have gone to maid school. Make sure you’ve got everything before you leave. No more upset parental phone calls, hear me?”

They all nodded agreement between smiles and giggles at the mental image of their coach piecing together all their suits to create one of her own.

“It’d never work,” one whispered.

“Yeah, it’d fall right apart to pieces.”

“I dunno. They’re real stretchy.”

“She could use lots and lots of safety pins. My mom’s got a whole big box. She says they’re just as good as sewing.”

Johanna shook her head. “You’re all hopeless. Okay, guys, scram. See you tomorrow.”

At least now the man would leave. Most of the parents congregated out in front of the locker room and chatted while waiting for their swimmers to shower and dress.

Hunter decided not to exit with the rest of the herd of parents who’d come to watch the practice. He wanted to talk to the coach, but he wasn’t quite sure how to approach her. Robby and Karen had not come to blows, verbal or otherwise, with each other. That could only mean they’d been engrossed in what they’d been doing and had had a good time.

This was good.

It was better than good. It was wonderful, unexpected, marvelous. This bit of manna from heaven was courtesy of Johanna, unorthodox though she may be. She had entertained and worn out those two. Any sleep he got tonight was due to this wonderful woman. He owed her. It was only right that he should repay her with maybe a drink or even a meal out, right? It certainly wouldn’t be any strain to go out with her. Hunter would take her someplace decent and see to it she had a good time. He could do that. He was cool. At least he had been until his entire world had caved in. Maybe he’d pick her brain a bit and—see. Karen and Robby took forever in the morning to dress. This would probably be no different. He had time. He could talk to her now.

Oh, God, he wasn’t leaving. Why didn’t he leave? Johanna unbuttoned her shirt and stepped out of her shorts.

Hunter, who’d been about to rise for the umpteen millionth time, froze. Good Lord, she was taking her clothes off. Right there on deck, she was taking them off. What was the woman thinking of? There were young children around. Hell, he was around, and Hunter wasn’t sure his heart was up to the havoc Johanna Durbin’s disrobing was causing his system.

Hunter was both relieved and disappointed when he realized Johanna wore a racing suit under her apparel.

And he’d thought she’d been a looker before, with her petite stature, blond curls and large, soulful eyes.

Competitive swimsuits were notoriously unflattering. They mashed a woman’s breasts flat and hugged the body, unerringly delineating every flaw in a mean-spirited, merciless, unforgiving display. Well, if this was Johanna’s body displayed at its worst, he didn’t even need to see her best. The body her suit outlined was flawless. Really. The woman didn’t have any flab, at least none Hunter could detect. No indeed, Johanna Durbin’s body needed no mercy or forgiveness.

She’d just risen above looker in his estimation and had levitated several degrees to stunner.

Hunter’s mouth actually began to water. How ridiculous. Surely at his age he was beyond all that. He was too urbane, too with it for such an elementary response to a female.

Still, he had to swallow.

Hunter shook his head to clear it. “Get a grip,” he ordered himself. He rose, determined to go and talk to the woman. “Damn the physiological responses,” he mumbled. “Full speed ahead.”

“Oh, God, he’s coming over here,” Johanna whispered. A new and decidedly odd feeling uncurled in the pit of her stomach. This was a dangerous man. Something deep inside of her recognized that fact. Johanna wanted nothing to do with him. He’d introduced himself earlier, but Johanna had evidently blocked his name out, for she couldn’t come up with it right then. It didn’t matter. For her, his name was spelled Trouble. Married, divorced, whatever, he had kids and she was within a few weeks of being done with all responsibility to that particular breed. Footloose and fancy-free. That was going to be her.

Johanna quickly swung around, pretending she hadn’t noticed his approach. Quickly, she stuffed her blond tresses up under her cap and pulled a pair of goggles into place. She dived off the edge.

Hunter stopped and watched her lithe form eat up the water. It was obvious Robby and Karen’s new coach had swum competitively. He didn’t know all that much about swimming, but he knew grace when he saw it. Johanna displayed an economy of form that was beautiful to watch. There were no wasted motions, no twisting, no struggling. She had executed what certainly looked like a beautiful flip turn at the far end of the pool and returned to her starting point in what he was sure was less than half a minute. Johanna flipped again and steamed away.

“Where’s the fire?” Hunter asked her wake.

“Uncle Hunter, what’re you doin’ still here? Everybody else is out in front. Me and Robby was looking and looking for you.”

Hunter reached down and rested a hand on Karen’s still-wet head. “Were you, pumpkin?” Then, recognizing fear when he heard it, Hunter said, “Well, you found me. I’ll always be here for you. Mommy and Daddy would have been, too, if they’d had a choice, sweetie.” His brother and sister-in-law’s death had shaken their children’s little world pretty badly and Hunter knew it would take a lifetime of reassurances to fix the damage.

Karen studied him with a serious eye, before nodding once. “Okay. Hold on, I gotta go tell Robby I found you. Robby!” Karen bellowed, and took off at a run.

Hunter gave one last lingering look to the pool and its sole occupant and slowly followed in Karen’s wake.

Several more adults showed up for adult lap time and Johanna wove her way through them, pushing herself hard for the next hour. By the time she pulled herself out of the pool, body exhausted but her mind still revved, her almost-eighteen-year-old brother Charlie had long since stopped by and taken home Aubrey and three more siblings; ten-year-old Stephen and nine-year-old William, who’d been swimming with the nine-and ten-year-old group, along with thirteen-year-old Grace, who’d worked with a third even older group. Johanna headed for the locker room, showered the chlorine off, dressed and drove herself home. Tucking her car into the garage for the night, she lovingly patted its hood as she passed in front of it. Her eyes started scanning the moment she left the garage.

“Good. Christopher took me seriously about doing a better job cutting the grass,” she acknowledged to herself as she passed through the yard and entered the house through the back door.

“Looks like the dishes are done and it’s possible the floor may have been swept.” Johanna opened the refrigerator door. “Lunches made.” She closed the door, went to the bottom of the steps to the second floor and yelled, “Homework check! Bring your assignment notebooks and matching papers down to the kitchen! Aubrey?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you practice?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh. Anybody hear you practice that would be willing to bear witness?”

“William said I had to say he’d practiced, too, otherwise he was gonna say I didn’t, either, but I really did. You can even ask.”

“Charlie?” Johanna yelled.

“All right, okay, I’ll turn it off. Man, you have radar ears. How’d you even know I had the television on while I studied?”

She hadn’t. “I know all and see all. Did Aubrey practice?”

“Yeah.”

“For more than five minutes?”

Charlie didn’t respond right away. Evidently he had to think about it. “Maybe,” he finally responded.

“Close enough,” Johanna muttered, too tired to pursue it any further. She went out to the kitchen table and began to check homework assignments. After a few minutes, she sat back and eyed her four youngest siblings, who stood waiting for her to finish.

“Pretty good, guys. William, this one paper needs to be rewritten more neatly, but other than that, you all did a great job.”

Johanna glanced around the kitchen, noted the cookie sheet in the sink. “Did Chris bake the cookies?”

They all nodded.

“Peanut butter. But he wouldn’t let us have none,” Aubrey complained. “Said he was keeping them all for hisself.”

“He was teasing, honey. They’re for lunches. But you know, you all did such a great job at swimming and getting your work done I think we should break out the milk and all have a cookie.”

“Yes!” Grace pumped her fist and raced for the milk, Stephen got the glasses and Aubrey climbed on a chair to reach the cookie tin while William hurriedly rewrote his paper in better handwriting. Johanna knew for a fact it still wasn’t his personal best, but decided not to push it. She was too tired and the end of the school year was too close.

Sixteen-year-old Christopher ambled in during their treat. “Where’s Mom?” he asked, snagging a cookie.

“I was gonna have that one,” William immediately complained.

“Then you should have been quicker,” Chris informed Will while holding the cookie out of his reach. “Besides, I’m the one who made them.” He bit into it.

Johanna shook her head. “Mom had a late meeting,” she explained. “Probably will every night this week. She’s got a big deal cooking.”

Chris snorted. “What else is new? She’s never home.”

“Be grateful,” Johanna said. “Things could have gotten really rocky after Dad died if she hadn’t been able to make a success of herself. And she’s a whole lot tougher than me. Why, I remember when I was your age…”

Aubrey edged closer to her big sister. “Jo?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Those two new kids at swim practice? They came to school today, too. One of them is going to be in my class. I kinda liked them.”

“Did you? Good. Me, too. And it’s hard to be the new kid, so they’ll need you to be nice to them.”

“Yeah, only know what?”

“What?”

“That guy?”

“What guy?”

“The guy what brought them.”

“Their dad? What about him?”

“He looked like a dad, only he wasn’t.”

Johanna’s ears perked up. “He wasn’t their dad?”

“Nuh-uh. They kept calling him Uncle Hunter, so I asked Karen why and they said it was ’cuz that’s what he was. Their uncle.”

Aubrey now had Johanna’s total attention. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Everybody was yelling and stuff in the locker room and I still had some water in my ears so I couldn’t hear too good what she was saying, but it was something about their parents going someplace and them staying with their uncle.”

Well, well, well, wouldn’t it be nice if her instincts had been off base? Easily over six feet with dark, dark hair and piercing blue eyes, this particular man fit her definition of the quintessential male. In fact, you could probably look up the word male in the dictionary and find Hunter Pace listed as the definition. “So he only has the kids temporarily,” Johanna murmured out loud.

Aubrey scrunched her thin little shoulders. “I guess. Know what else? They got two more in their family. Aaron and Mikie. Karen says it’s no fair ’cuz she’s the only girl.”

Johanna watched Christopher finish off the milk directly from the gallon container. Boys were so…primitive. “I can see her point. Rinse that out and put it in the recycling container, Chris,” she directed her brother, and sat back in her chair. “I wonder why they changed schools and everything?” she mused out loud, then shrugged. “Maybe they took a job overseas or something and are going to be gone for months.”

“Wouldn’t they have taken their kids with them?” Grace asked.

“Not necessarily,” Chris responded as he stepped on the milk carton to crush it. “Some parts of the near East, for example, aren’t all that safe, but the money’s probably too good to pass up. I mean, the real father could be an engineer or something who works in oil. Heck, for all we know the mom could be an industrial or chemical engineer.”

Aubrey’s eyes widened. “Wow. That’s what I’ll be. A engineer. I want to make lots of money, too, just like Karen’s mom.”

Johanna laughed. “Chris was just guessing, honey. For all we know Karen and Robby’s dad could be an elephant hunter and their mom a hula dancer.”

“For real?”

She laughed again. “I’m teasing, although I guess they could be. We’ll never know unless Karen or Robby tells us. I’m just surprised they didn’t send the kids to boarding school or something. It must be hard on their uncle to suddenly have four young kids living with him, but who knows, maybe the family is close and he’s used to it.”

The three youngest lost interest after that and fell into a discussion on whether Alexander Snyder was the dorkiest kid in school or not.

“He reads the encyclopedia at the bus stop.”

“Yeah, he’s up to F already.”

“F for fathead,” Stephen giggled.

“Why does he do that?” Johanna wondered. Any kind of intellectual display in front of preadolescents or adolescents, either one, was asking for trouble. “Did you ask him?”

“He says he hungers for knowledge,” Will snorted. “Ty told him he was a dorkhead and beat him up after that,” he reported matter-of-factly.

“You three better not be part of that,” Charlie said on his way through the room, giving Johanna much hope for his future. “You know what Johanna and Mom say all the time.”

“You don’t have to marry them, but you do have to be kind,” they all chorused together.

“That’s right,” Charlie nodded. “And you better not forget it or when I’m in charge after Jo leaves there may be serious rear end damage done around here. You think she’s tough, wait’ll you get a load of me.”

“Jo won’t let you spank us,” Aubrey said in her best nah-nah-nah voice.

“Jo won’t be here.”

Before things escalated out of control, Johanna got the four youngest up the stairs and into the bathroom to brush teeth and prepare for bed. She made a mental note to talk to Charlie some time before she moved out about not letting authority go to his head, and prepared for bed herself. She and her mother shared a bedroom. Cognizant of both their needs for privacy, they had put back-to-back shelving units partway down the center of the room. It was an imperfect solution, but provided more storage in a house crammed full of people and their paraphernalia and it gave Johanna the illusion of a space of her own.

Johanna put her bedside light on and climbed into the twin-size bed. Propping up the pillows against the wall behind her bed and settling back against them, she picked up the psychology book she’d been reading from her nightstand and found her place.

Twenty minutes later she snapped it shut, unable to concentrate. Her insides practically bubbled with impatience.

“A few more weeks,” she whispered to herself, and got out of bed. Johanna roamed the hall, checking under the doors for patches of light. Charlie and Chris were still up, naturally, and probably would be for a while. Charlie was almost eighteen, so his sleep patterns were his problem, and she was trying to lighten up on sixteen-year-old Chris as well. She wouldn’t say anything just yet.

The strip under Stephen and Will’s door was dark, but light shone out from under the girls’ door. Johanna opened it quietly and peeked in. Aubrey lay sprawled on her stomach, a green-stuffed rabbit clutched close, sound asleep. Grace sat up in bed, reading a laminated, numbered paperback.

“Whole class reading that one?” Johanna whispered as she nodded at the book in Grace’s hand.

“Yeah. Mr. Woodley says it’s a classic, but it really stinks. I mean, who’s gonna take the time to knit the names of people you want dead into your socks?”

“I thought it was a scarf.”

“Whatever.”

“I can’t say I ever cared much for Dickens, either. Twenty more minutes, max, then lights out, okay?”

“This is so boring I’ll probably be asleep long before then.”

Johanna shut the door.

What was the matter with her? Why was she so restless? Okay, she’d finally be out on her own, working a real job, using her hard-won education in a couple of weeks. It’s not as though it was happening tomorrow.

So what was the deal?

Johanna slipped down the steps and rechecked the doors and windows.

It was that guy. That uncle guy. He’d thrown her for a loop without so much as an “excuse me.” He’d been seriously cute. Seriously cute. Her initial response had been to avoid him. Twice before single fathers on the swim team had seen that she related well to kids and thought she’d be the perfect replacement mother figure for their own little darlings.

Been there, done that. She’d been raising her siblings while her mother worked long hours ever since her dad died. Though she wasn’t a mother herself, at twenty-five she’d already done the mother thing.

But had she known Uncle Hunter was only their uncle she might not have dived into the pool quite so quickly. All evening long while she’d swum, checked homework, diverted squabbles and tried to read, he’d been there, just out of reach in her thoughts.

He couldn’t have been that special. Probably it was because she’d never seen him before and he’d spent an awful lot of his time looking at her. She’d just been uneasy, that was all.

So maybe he’d be back again tomorrow.




Chapter Two


He was.

Johanna watched him out of the corner of her eye as he settled himself on the hard metal bleacher bench. Two little boys, really little boys—like around four and maybe two years old—accompanied him this afternoon. Hunter handed them each a small bag, and the twosome immediately began dragging tiny cars and trucks out, vavooming them over the metal bench and flooring, up Hunter’s legs and across his wide chest. Hunter never even flinched.

Johanna was impressed.

She directed her eight-year-olds and unders in a stroke drill and observed while trying not to look as if she was observing.

He was just as good-looking as she remembered. Better. Yesterday her perspective had been clouded by the fact that Johanna had thought Robby and Karen belonged to him, which would have put him right off limits in her book. She’d done everything in her power to convince herself he wasn’t all that hot. His eyes were not bluer than blue flames, his chest was not wider than wide and the only reason he probably looked tall at first was because he was standing on the bleachers.

She’d mostly failed.

Johanna lined up her crew behind a starting block after they finished their drill. “Okay, we’re going to practice starts now. Marcus, you’re up first. Take your mark…hup! Let’s go, Rebecca. Take your mark…hup!”

Now that she knew the children were his only temporarily she felt far more comfortable with that funny feeling she got in the pit of her stomach when Hunter was in the immediate vicinity. She could even admire the ease he displayed around his niece and nephews, in a detached sort of way. Karen and Robby waved in his direction frequently. He was always paying attention and responded. The littlest one had crawled up on his shoulders for a better view of the pool. Hunter held his chubby little legs while small fry pulled his thick, dark hair, bounced up and down and crowed at his older siblings.

“Meet coming up in a few days, my friends. Let’s try some relay starts. Aubrey, come into the wall full tilt. Kimmie, get on the block and follow her in with your arms. When she touches, you take off like lightning, but make sure Aubrey’s actually touched before you leave the block. Okay, Aubrey, jump into the water halfway down the lane and head on in.”

Someday when Johanna was ready to settle down, provided that day ever came once she finally achieved her freedom, Johanna would look for a man like Karen and Robby’s uncle.

Someone rock steady.

Dependable.

And sexy as hell.

The sexy as hell part was good enough for now.

“Karen, walk over and ask your uncle if you and Robby can stay after for just a few minutes, will you, honey? Let’s see if we can get you two to do a flip turn. Okay, Robby, you want to try going off the block?”

“It’s too high.”

“Once you get used to it, it won’t seem so bad.”

“Why can’t I just go off the edge like before?”

“You can. It’s just easier to hold on to the edge of the starting block and you get a better start that way, go out farther right at the very beginning.”

“I’m scared.”

“Coach Jo, Uncle Hunter says okay, but it’s gotta be quick ’cuz the natives are getting restless and he’s all out of Cheerios.”

Johanna understood the cryptic message perfectly, having used the same cereal many times herself during church services, choir and band concerts and assorted other programs requiring attendance by the care providers of small children.

She acknowledged receipt of his acceptance with a wave to the stands.

Hunter waved back and Johanna’s heart flipped. Stupid, but no longer alarming. Without a care in the world, Johanna asked Robby, “How about if I hold your hand?”

Robby thought about it. Hard. “Okay,” he finally reluctantly decided. “But you’re not gonna let go or anything, are you?”

“Promise.” Johanna made a crisscross motion over her heart and extended her hand. “Ready?”

Robby took her hand with all the enthusiasm of a French nobleman ascending the steps to the guillotine. Slowly he climbed the two steps to the top of the block and stood there, well to the rear of the small platform.

“So,” Johanna said, “how’s the view?”

“Okay,” Robby allowed.

“Good. Come on down.”

“I don’t hafta dive in?” Robby questioned suspiciously, sure he was missing a trick somewhere.

“Not unless you want to.”

“I don’t.”

“Then climb down. That’s enough for your first try.”

“Karen will think I’m a baby.”

“Who cares? She’s living in a glass house and I don’t think you’re a baby. I think you’re very brave for getting up there at all.”

The youngsters who’d been packing up paused in their tasks and one by one came to stand by the edge as they became aware of the drama being enacted.

In the stands Hunter rose and edged closer after instructing Aaron and Mikie to stay put. “Aaron, don’t let Mikie move. I’ll be right back.”

Karen was getting jealous of the attention Robby was getting. “Get down, Robby,” she directed. “I want to try it.”

“No. You had a turn before and you wouldn’t do it. It’s my turn now.”

Karen began to whine. “But I wanna try now. You had long enough. It should be my turn again.”

It was all Johanna could do not to roll her eyes and ask if Karen wanted a little cheese with her whine. Had it been one of her own siblings, she probably would have, but as it was, she kept her mouth shut and focused on Robby, waiting to see what he would do. Instead, Hunter handled it.

Quietly, so as not to distract Robby, he gently pulled Karen back from the starting block and whispered for her to keep an eye on Aaron and Mikie.

“I don’t want you to hold my hand no more. You can let go.”

The child’s knees were knocking together. “You don’t have to, Robbie.”

“No, it’s okay. Let go.”

Johanna did so, but stayed close, ready to step in if Robby lost his newfound courage.

Robbie took a deep breath and straightened his thin shoulders. He stood there, maybe two feet up over the water, looking very much as if he were about to attempt walking a plank.

Hunter took Karen’s place, eyes intent on his nephew.

“I’m gonna do it,” Robby announced.

“You don’t have to,” Johanna said. “I just wanted you to see what it was like this first time.”

“I’m gonna,” he insisted.

“Do you want me to get in the pool and catch you?”

Robby thought about that but evidently decided that, too, would make him a wimp in his sister’s eyes. He shook his head. “No,” he said.

“All right. If you change your mind I’m right here.”

Robby stood there, staring down into the three feet of clear water. Johanna was sure it might as well be a hundred feet deep and shark-infested. Aubrey took her hand on one side, needing the comfort an adult could provide as she remembered her own terror the first few times off the block. “Do you think he’s gonna really do it, Johanna?” she whispered.

“Shh,” Johanna hushed. “Let him concentrate.” She reached out to take Karen’s hand with her free hand in a silent signal to remain quiet. What she found was a hand quite a bit larger and hairier than she anticipated. The hand squeezed hers in silent communication, and Johanna about jumped out of her skin. She squealed. Robby startled, lost his balance, windmilled, then fell into the water. He came up sputtering.

“That was fun. Can I do it again?”

“My turn!” claimed Karen.

Hunter whirled around. “Where are Aaron and Mikie?” he asked, his heart suddenly in his mouth.

“Aaron’s showing Mikie the other pool. I wanted to watch Robby.”

The other pool? The diving well? Johanna took off at a run, Hunter, who’d been frantically sweeping the area with his eyes, in hot pursuit. “Oh, my God,” he said. “Oh, my God.”

Johanna could see the two little ones leaning over the edge, marveling over, what, the depth of the water? The design on the bottom? Who knew? The swimmers in the other lanes were so involved in their workouts no one else had noticed the tykes, either. Hunter broke into a sprint, passing Johanna as she detoured by the lifeguard stand and grabbed a rescue tube. Hunter had almost reached the pair when Aaron, the four-year-old, slipped on the wet tile and went in, taking little Mikie with him.

“Damn,” he said, and dived in, shoes and all. He overshot the pair, who’d already begun to sink and had to turn around, flailing a bit as he trod water and furiously swiped chlorinated water out of his eyes. “Aaron! Mikie!” There! He dived down, but missed and had to come up for air.

Johanna, meanwhile, took the time to kick off her shoes so she wouldn’t be so weighted down, tucked the rescue tube under her arms and used a stride entry. Bedlam was rapidly breaking out with shrieking seven-and eight-year-olds alerting the rest of the coaches to the problem. She positioned herself over the children and, holding the tube by its long strap, let her hands come down to her sides, then raised them rapidly up over her head and torpedoed straight down. Coming up behind Aaron, she slipped an arm around him and kicked hard, propelling herself to the surface. She handed him off to Hunter, took a deep breath and went back down.

The smaller one, Mikie, was already limp. Johanna brought him up, then, on her back, pulled him over to the side. The coach of the nine-and ten-year-old group leaned over the side and took the child from her. Johanna put her hands on the pool’s edge and lifted herself out.

No need to check the older one. He wailed loudly and hiccuped while squeezing Hunter’s neck and being squeezed in return. In true parental fashion, Hunter alternately comforted and berated. “It’s okay, you’re all right. You ever do anything like that again, I’ll drown you myself. Are you sure you’re all right? When I tell you to stay put, you need to stay put, hear me? It’s okay, calm down. You’re strangling me. I’ve got to check Mikie. Oh, God, something’s wrong with Mikie.”

Mikie had swallowed a major portion of the pool, Johanna suspected. The other coach had him flat on his back on the pool deck by the time Johanna had lifted herself out of the water. Together they tipped his head back to open his airway. Johanna put her face down close to the toddler’s and listened hard while she watched his chest.

“Anything?” the other coach asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s breathing.”

There was a communal sharp intake of breath.

“Not so close, people,” the other coach exhorted. “Give us some room here.”

Hunter pushed his way in and knelt by Mikie’s head, wanting to do something but feeling helpless. His eyes followed Johanna’s every move as she pinched Mikie’s little nose and breathed gently into him twice. Hunter watched her face while she searched the side of Mikie’s neck with two fingertips.

“He’s got a pulse,” she announced, and everyone simultaneously sighed. “Call an ambulance, though. He’s not breathing.” Johanna pinched Mikie’s nose and took a breath. Just as she was prepared to deliver it, Mikie began to gag. Moving quickly, she rolled him onto his side, where he proceeded to upchuck what appeared to be a major portion of the water from the diving well all over her, and began to cry. Johanna propped him there on his side so he wouldn’t choke, then sat back and closed her eyes.

Hunter scooped up his nephew and held him tightly against his chest. The pressure of the hard squeeze had Mikie upchucking once more, this time down Hunter’s back, but Hunter didn’t care, he just didn’t care. His inexperience and ineptitude hadn’t killed anyone. That was what counted.

“Thank you, God,” he prayed.

“Amen,” whispered Johanna.

Hunter stood up, dripping water, shoes squishing. He had Mikie in his arms and Aaron very quickly attached himself to one leg like a little leech. Karen claimed the other leg and Robby grabbed him from behind. He stood there like an oak and let his heart settle back down into his chest.

“Thank you,” he told Johanna gravely, very impressed with the way she’d handled the crisis. She was not just good with children, she was also an incredibly competent woman. Also sexy. Let’s not forget the sexy. He became more determined than ever to get to know her.

“You’re welcome,” she said every bit as gravely.

The coach of the eleven-and twelve-year-olds began to usher people away. “All right, everybody, excitement’s over. Let’s go finish up. I think tomorrow it might be a good idea if we did some pool safety stuff.”

Johanna rose, patted Mikie on the back and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Hunter said, grabbing her arm. There was no way he could follow her with the little limpets still attached. “I, uh, wanted to thank you one more time.”

“I’m glad we were in time,” Johanna returned. Looking into his eyes, she was struck again by just how handsome he was. She shivered and didn’t know if it was the sodden clothing dripping down her legs or the sight of gorgeous Hunter covered in children. She took off her shirt and shorts while she thought about that and wrung them out.

Hunter’s blood pressure skyrocketed as the woman unselfconsciously stripped. Damn, but he’d forgotten she wore a bathing suit under her clothes. These sudden adrenaline rushes couldn’t be good for a man. He was going to be dead long before his time at this rate.

“I’m sorry this happened. It won’t again. I’m still getting used to them.”

Johanna nodded. The crisis was over. She was suddenly exhausted. She also wished he’d touch her arm again. There’d been a connection then, almost like a circuit being completed. Maybe his electric blue eyes really were electric. Weird. But Johanna definitely wanted to feel that tingle again. “They move fast, don’t they?”

He nodded. “You can say that again. I’m beginning to think they’re also at their creative best when they’re thinking up new ways to do themselves in.”

Johanna laughed weakly. “Yeah. I could tell you some stories about my brothers and sisters that would turn your hair gray just listening.”

“I’d like to hear them,” he said quietly, and looked directly into her wide eyes. Now he was in danger of drowning in them.

Johanna swallowed. Hard. Oh, God. He wanted to hear her stories. Suddenly she couldn’t think of a one.

“I’d also like to thank you properly, take you out for dinner or something, but I’m afraid it’s too soon to leave the unholy crew with a sitter just yet. They need to settle in a bit and feel more secure.” Did they ever. The kids still had nightmares sometimes. Hunter had yet to truly grieve his brother’s loss himself. He’d been too busy making it through one day at a time.

“I understand,” Johanna said. And she did. Understanding didn’t prevent a feeling of disappointment, however.

Someone who liked kids as well as the young swim coach obviously did surely wouldn’t mind their being underfoot, so Hunter plowed on. “I can see you’re ready for your own workout,” he said with a nod at her swimsuit. “But I could stop off somewhere on the way home, get some stuff for ice cream sundaes. I could give you the address—it’s not too far—and you could come by the house when you’re through.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

She was going to refuse and Hunter didn’t want that. In fact, he wouldn’t accept that. “Karen and your Aubrey seem to be hitting it off together. After swimming as hard as they did Aubrey could probably use a sugar infusion. I bet she’d like to come along.” He said it just loud enough for the little girl to hear. He hadn’t been raising children long, but he’d already learned the unbelievable pressure the little sweethearts could bring to bear when they wanted something. And what little kid wouldn’t want ice cream?

Aubrey did not disappoint him.

“Oh, please, Johanna. Can we please go, huh? Can we? Please?” Aubrey folded her hands together in front of her in a supplicating, prayerlike fashion and looked up at her older sister pleadingly. “Will and Steve didn’t even have to swim tonight ’cuz Chris got those tickets to the Silver Hawks game at Covaleski Stadium. They’re probably having tons of fun. They get to do everything and I hardly ever get to do nothing. Please?”

Johanna rolled her eyes. It was a standard line that every one of her siblings used. Each and every one of them was surely the most abused child in the history of the world. “I hardly ever get to do anything,” Johanna corrected her. “If you’re going to whine, at least do it correctly.”

“I hardly ever get to do anything,” Aubrey repeated dutifully. “Please?”

She shouldn’t let her get away with it, but the truth was Johanna wanted to go herself.

“It’s a school night,” she said, feeling duty-bound to point out.

“I didn’t have any homework.” Aubrey quickly inserted the reply, sensing Johanna’s wavering as only a child can. “And you made me practice piano before we came. And ice cream’s pretty good for you. We made it at school one time. It has milk in it. I saw.”

Johanna had to grin. What a little con artist. “Along with an equal amount of sugar, but what the heck, it’s been a traumatic day. We could all use a little comfort food.”

“Yes,” chorused Aubrey and Karen together. Karen pumped her fist in the air.

“When Charlie gets here, tell him to take Grace home and check homework for me,” Johanna directed her sister. “You can just wait for me to finish up here.”

The two girls saluted and raced off with Robby in hot pursuit.

Hunter stood there holding a now quietly sobbing, hiccuping Mikie, and feeling as if Aaron was a permanent attachment. It wouldn’t be much longer before he’d forget what life was like with free use of both legs. The three of them dripped water onto the concrete pool deck. His hair was hanging in his face and water rivulets ran down his neck in a decidedly uncomfortable fashion. It was not a setup he would have chosen for asking a woman on a first date. Unfortunately, he had a feeling of foreboding that this was about as good as it was going to get. Probably for years to come. Hunter gave Johanna clear, concise directions and squished his way out of the pool area, lugging Aaron with every step he took.

So much for Mr. Suave Sophisticate.

He sighed. How the mighty were fallen.

He took the two small boys into the boys’ locker room, shifted the nozzle on the hand dryer to point down, punched the button and stood them underneath the blast of hot air in a fruitless attempt to dry them out a bit.

Hunter borrowed some towels from the lost and found to spread along the leather seats of his pride and joy. He still cringed as he buckled in those sodden little bodies. His own soggy self wasn’t doing the car’s seats much good, either. He thought of Johanna’s sleek, wet body when she’d stepped out of her shorts and shirt. Now, a body like that, he’d let ruin his leather any day of the week.

“Come on, kids, let’s get a move on here,” Hunter said, suddenly in a hurry. How had they left the kitchen? Were there dirty dishes in the sink? Damn, he couldn’t remember. He needed to shower, put some dry clothes on. Hunter felt his chin. Maybe he should shave. His five o’clock shadow tended to be heavy.

He stopped at the grocery store on the way home and froze in his damp clothes while he picked up the ice cream and various assorted toppings. He probably went overboard a bit on the topping part, but what the heck, he wanted to make a good impression. Johanna needed comfort food, he’d see she got it. Anything that would buy him time with her.

“That’ll be $34.28. Having a party, huh?”

Hunter came to with a start and looked down the checkout counter. He’d spent thirty-five dollars on dessert? Good grief. Well, it would be worth it in the long run. He hoped. “Here you are.” He handed over two twenties and waited for his change.

“$5.72. There you go. Have a good night. Enjoy your ice cream, kids.”

Aaron and Mikie smiled shyly. Robby grinned and nodded. Karen was the only one who actually got a thank-you out. He was going to have to work on their manners.

Still, they were cute kids, as far as children went, and Johanna was obviously crazy about kids. Thoughtfully, Hunter buckled bodies in and stowed the ice cream in the trunk of the car. “Anybody who takes their safety belt off before this car is in the garage with the engine off, dies. Hear me, Aaron?”

“I won’t do it again, I pwomise.”

“And no unbuckling anybody else to get them into trouble.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.”

Hunter watched Aaron nod solemnly in his rearview mirror before grunting and cranking the engine. Maybe he had Aaron sufficiently cowed. Maybe. In the short time he’d had the children he’d learned it was a mistake to think in absolutes.

“All right, here we go. Keep it down to a dull roar, okay? Uncle Hunter needs to pay attention to his driving. I really don’t feel like wrapping us around a pole on the way home.”

Hunter strategized as he drove down the quiet streets. He was good at reading people, figuring out what made them tick. It was why he was good at his job. If you wanted to sell major manufacturing systems, you learned how to do that in a big hurry. An effective businessman made small talk with people who liked to chat. He took sports fanatics to the stadium in Chicago or the Hoosier Dome in Indy. Clients who were more into the arts got museum tickets, symphony concert tickets, architectural tours of the city. Whatever it took.

So, what did he know about Johanna and what would his best approach be?

She liked kids. Had to, or she wouldn’t surround herself with them. In the world BK—before kids—Hunter would have run as hard and as fast as possible to get away from such a woman, no matter how good-looking she was, but Hunter had entered an alternate world and he was not running away, no indeed.

At any rate, the obvious thing to do here to keep Johanna interested was to surround her with his children. Hunter would make sure they were clean and threaten them with their lives so they’d behave. Hunter nodded thoughtfully. It should work. He nodded more forcefully as he pulled into the garage. His kids were as good—no, better—than any others he’d seen to date. Of course that wasn’t saying much in his book, but women thought differently. To his way of thinking, Johanna was a goner.

“Kiss the competition goodbye,” he told himself as he pulled into his garage. “You’ve done it again, Hunter old boy. The woman won’t know what hit her.”




Chapter Three


Johanna enjoyed her time with Hunter and the children. Heck, she’d grown up with the give-and-take of a large family. Teasing Hunter’s niece and nephews was especially fun because she carried no responsibility for them. At the end of the evening she’d be going home, leaving Hunter with the nitty-gritty, day-to-day bedtime-ritual stuff, as well as the long-term physical and personal development stuff. Well, at any rate he was responsible for the long-term development stuff for the short term. How long would the children’s parents be gone, anyhow? Hunter seemed to be going to a lot of trouble for a brief period.

Karen had shown her the paint color she’d picked out for her bedroom, a too-sweet cotton-candy pink. Johanna’s hands felt sticky just looking at it. She lavished praise. After all, she wasn’t stuck painting the walls that nauseating color.

Mikie had proudly displayed his new junior bed. He was a big boy now. Johanna was suitably impressed and politely watched as he drove his toy trucks down the wrong side of the road on the track-imprinted play carpet Hunter had installed in Mikie and Aaron’s room. After the second pileup, Johanna heartily hoped Mikie did not plan on long distance driving as a viable career choice. Then again, what did it matter? Johanna wasn’t the one who’d have to teach him right from left, the physics of impact with a large object or see him through to a driver’s license later on.

“I went off the starting block and you didn’t. That makes you a chicken heart.”

“Does not.”

“Does, too.”

“You only went in ’cuz you fell when Coach Jo yelled.”

“Uh-uh.”

You know, kids’ squabbles were a whole lot funnier when the kids belonged to somebody else. Johanna was having difficulty smothering a smirk as she listened to the byplay.

“Uh-huh,” Karen shot back, then turned on Johanna. “Coach Jo, how come you yelled like that? Did you see a spider or something? I hate spiders.”

“Karen yells real loud when she sees one, especially if it gets in bed with her.”

The mere thought made Johanna shiver, and she had to wonder how the spider got into Karen’s bed. After all, she had brothers herself, a fact that made her naturally suspicious.

“Do not.”

“Do, too.”

Johanna cleared her throat and glanced at her wristwatch. “Just look at the time,” she exclaimed. “Why, it’s almost eight-thirty! I need to get home or I’m going to miss my bedtime.”

Aaron studied her in wide-eyed amazement. “But Miss Johanna, eight-thirty is our bedtime, Mikie’s and mine. Even Karen and Robby gets to stay up until nine o’clock and you’re lots older than them.”

“Nine o’clock? Wow. Karen and Robby are lucky ducks, huh?” She sighed. “Poor me. If I’m not in bed on time I’ll be in lots of trouble. Gotta go, guys. Come give me a hug, then I’m out of here.”

The four of them crowded forward, squeezing and hugging as though starved for affection. Johanna wondered about their parents again. Her own mother had no choice but to be gone much of the time. Relatively older at the time, Johanna had still hated her absence. How could these little ones possibly understand their parents’ desertion? Wherever they’d taken themselves off to, she certainly hoped it was worth the separation anxiety their children were suffering.

And not just the children were suffering.

Hunter looked tired, Johanna thought as she glanced his way for the thousandth time that night. Darn, but he was prime male material. The least she could do was get the kids started in the right direction, she supposed. He looked as if he could use the help and she didn’t mind lending a hand—as long as she could still go home to her own life at the end of the day.

Giving the closest two a nudge, she started them on their way. “Let’s see who can brush their teeth till they shine the most, okay? Uncle Hunter can be the judge, and you can make a chart and draw a star by your name if you’re the winner. I bet Uncle Hunter would get a little prize for whoever has the most stars at the end of the week.”

The kids took off like a stampeding herd.

“I’ll be first done.”

“Nuh-uh. I’m gonna beat you.”

Johanna called after them. “First doesn’t count, Robbie, unless it’s also the best.”

“Karen already gots a cabity. So she shouldn’t win no way.”

“You’re so stupid” came the immediate protest. “It’s just a baby tooth, which is all you’ve got, big baby. The dentist said my grown-up teeth would come in like brand-new and I could start all over again with everything perfect.”

Hunter shook his head as the voices faded up the stairs. “They’re unbelievable, aren’t they? I swear they’d argue over whether the sun was going to come up in the morning.” But he was encouraged by the smile on Johanna’s face. It proved he was on the right track. The woman actually liked young children and all the squabbling and immature behavior they entailed. Sick, but who was he to complain? He took her hand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Johanna looked down at the big hand swallowing hers. It was large, but Hunter was definitely not ham-handed. He was simply big-boned with long, almost elegantly tapered fingers. His nails were cut blunt, short and were impeccably clean. The back of his hand was lightly furred with glossy deep brown hair.

Johanna stared at those few hairs and couldn’t help but wonder about his chest.

Was it hairy or smooth?

She’d bet on hair.

Sparse or plentiful?

A thick, dark mat of hair, she hoped. Thick enough and just coarse enough to make a woman crazy when she pressed up against—what? What? She was quite probably the only twenty-four-year-old virgin in town, heck, in the state of Indiana, and here she was daydreaming about what?

Good grief.

Johanna ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back off her forehead as she blew out a breath. Get a grip, Johanna. Before you blow a gasket.

“Aubrey, sweetheart, run upstairs and tell everybody good-night,” Johanna instructed, and hoped like heck Hunter wouldn’t notice the slight breathlessness in her voice. What was wrong with her? “I’ll wait for you out by the car.”

“Okay,” Aubrey agreed, and took off, flying up the stairs. “Be right down. Hey, you guys!”

Shaking his head, Hunter gently tugged on Johanna’s hand. He’d meant to merely initiate a little forward propulsion, get Johanna out of the house before his niece’s and nephews’ behavior degenerated from squabbling into true bickering. Over all, he was pleased with the evening. The kids had generally held themselves together pretty well, if you discounted the near drowning. Judging by Johanna’s smiles and easy behavior with them, they’d been a hit, too. However, their behavior was showing definite signs of fraying around the edges. No point in pressing his luck. He wanted her on her way before it became too much of a good thing.

The gentle tug on her hand, however, catapulted Johanna forward. She crashed into his side.

“Oops,” Johanna said.

“I’m so sorry,” Hunter immediately apologized. “I never meant to pull that hard. Are you all right?” He evidently didn’t know his own strength. Leaving the woman black and blue was not the note on which he wanted to end the evening, although he certainly had no argument with having Johanna tucked up against his side. Man, she was warm. And she smelled like ripe fruit. Just the right height for him, too. The top of her head matched the top of his shoulder.

Hunter wrapped an arm around Johanna’s waist. He sneaked another sniff of her light perfume when he bent his head to solicitously offer, “Here, let me help you.”

Johanna’s face burned. Heck, her whole body turned pink. Thank God he couldn’t see that. Here the poor man was apologizing all over the place, and the truth was, he hadn’t pulled all that hard. She’d only tumbled into him because she hadn’t been paying attention. No, Johanna had been lost in a sexual fantasy involving both their naked chests. She could hardly explain that to him, now could she?

So what could she say?

Hunter took a slow step forward, cautiously guiding her, and Johanna immediately stumbled.

Johanna was completely mortified. All her life she’d been an athlete and taken her coordination for granted. Now here she was reduced to tripping over her own feet by a chest she’d never even laid eyes on. It was humiliating, that’s what it was. Mortifying and humiliating.

“You okay, honey?”

Ooh, he’d called her honey. Wasn’t that the sweetest thing?

“I’m fine. Really. Just a little dizzy spell, I guess. It’s already gone. Seriously.” Johanna concentrated on her feet until she got outside. For as long as she could remember, she had spent every free moment in or around a swimming pool. She’d done age-group competitive swimming since she’d been seven years old. In that time she’d seen hundreds, no thousands of not just naked male chests, but mostly naked guys. Male racing suits did not leave a whole lot to the imagination.

In all that time never had she reacted like this.

Left foot. Okay, now your right foot. Almost there.

When Johanna got home she’d have her mother feel her forehead. Maybe she was getting sick and didn’t even know it yet.

It was possible.

They reached her vehicle without further mishap. Johanna breathed a prayer of thanksgiving.

Thank you, God.

Hunter propped an elbow against her minivan’s roof. “So, I guess the crew and I will be seeing you again tomorrow.” With the nonsupporting hand he tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear.

As his hand skimmed the side of her face briefly, Johanna’s skin tingled. She stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Wha—oh, right. You mean swim practice.” She nodded her head. “Yes. I’ll be there. Absolutely.” Oh, for crying out loud. Get a grip, girl.

“I know I’ve already told you…I wish I knew what else I could do other than repeat myself over and over. Thanks again for everything you did earlier. Here, too. I like the chart and star idea. Sure cut down on arguments over getting ready for bed. And I know I’ll be watching Aaron and Mikie a lot closer from now on.”

“It’s okay,” Johanna murmured. Oh, she was in a sad way. Just watching his lips move had her mesmerized. She was having trouble attaching meaning to the words and probably sounded as if she’d left her IQ at home. She looked away from his mouth and cleared her throat. “Seriously. It’s okay. Part of the job description. Although maybe we, uh, that is to say, you ought to think about getting the little ones some swimming lessons. You know, at least get them to the point where they can tread water so somebody at least will have enough time to get to them next time they go in the drink.”

Hunter stared into those brown doe eyes. “Absolutely. It’s already on my list. I’ll see to it.” He straightened away from the car and leaned forward to brush her forehead with his lips. “I’ll see you then. Tomorrow.”

Johanna nodded solemnly. Tomorrow. Then she took a deep breath and put a hand over her heart. Man alive, the poor little thing was working overtime for sure. Her entire chest wall was heaving. You’d have thought he’d just asked her to help practice some of the more difficult positions from the Kama Sutra. Not that she’d ever seen a copy, but Johanna had an extremely vivid imagination and her heart wasn’t the only thing working overtime just then. No, it wasn’t.

A mower whined somewhere down the block. Across the street the dog that never shut up barked away. Children’s voices drifted down from an open window on his own second story. In short, the neighborhood was alive with sound. But Hunter’s gaze drifted from her wide brown eyes down to her mouth. He became so focused on her barely parted lips and slightly crooked front tooth that the surrounding cacophony became nothing more than a background white noise. Once more he leaned forward.

She didn’t need a road sign to know what came next.

Johanna’s breath caught in her throat. And there went her heart again.

She didn’t kiss on a first date and this could hardly even be called that. Some guy buying you ice cream out of gratitude for saving his kid’s life wasn’t a date, now was it? Especially since there’d been five kids in clear view the entire time. Speaking of which, Aubrey might come out at any minute. She’d be shocked. For sure she’d blab.

Johanna was an expert at blocking this kind of move on a guy’s part. A step back, a lowered head, even a quick insertion of some bright conversational gambit. All worked.

But then, maybe she was reading too much into this kiss.

It could be.

Wasn’t it possible that Hunter was simply a toucher? You know, not touchy feely in a bad kind of way, just…tactile. This could be nothing more than a sort of nonverbal appeal to a different one of the senses kind of thing. He’d done the verbal thing and was moving on. Could well be she’d get a thank-you card in the mail sometime soon. Who knew? Maybe he kissed everybody goodbye. For all she knew, he might have some French blood in his heritage. Then it wouldn’t be a first date kind of kiss, but just a social kind of thing. The French were always kissing one another.

Johanna angled her head to better meet Hunter’s kiss. She’d never been kissed by a Frenchman.

Their lips met and Johanna had to reach for the car door handle to steady herself. Holy smoke. He’d barely touched her with his lips and she was already reeling.

“Hell,” Hunter muttered, and moved closer, crowding her just a bit, but not enough that she could really lodge a legal protest.

He skimmed the back of his knuckles down her cheek, which gave her the shivers. He noticed and did it again. Then Hunter slid the backs of those same knuckles down the side of her chest, barely catching the beginning curve of her breast. Again, not quite enough to warrant a complaint but more than enough to have her questioning what she’d thought was a well-conditioned heart. He let his hand rest on her waist.

Oh, boy, here it came.

Once more their lips met. Not quite as brief, not quite as sweet and innocent.

Carnal was a good descriptive word that came to mind.

His tongue slid slowly along the seam of her closed mouth.

She could take a hint when she was hit over the head with one and Johanna parted her lips.

“That’s it,” he muttered, and tugged carefully on her bottom lip with his teeth.

The screen door slapped. Johanna and Hunter both startled.

Johanna pushed on his shoulders. It was like trying to move stone. Unable to see over his shoulder she had to lean and look around it. “Aubrey! Uh, hi! You ready to go?”

“All set.” The child paused on her way down the front steps, studying the two of them curiously. “What are you two doing?”

Johanna colored guiltily. “Nothing. Just saying good-night. That’s all.”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

Damn, but for seven she had a suspicious mind.

“Were you guys kissing?”

Johanna shoved once more. This time he released her. “No. Absolutely not.”

Hunter swung around. “Yes.”

“I knew it!” Aubrey crowed. “That is so gross!”

Hunter began an exaggerated stalk. “I kiss all the beautiful women that cross my path.” He stopped and pointed like a well-trained setter. “What’s this? Another beautiful woman?”

“To be,” Johanna inserted.

“Another beautiful woman to be?” Hunter repeated dutifully.

“Oh, no, not me. Johanna, make him stop,” Aubrey ordered as she giggled and danced away. “You’re not doing that to me.”

“Oh, I think so,” Hunter insisted, still stalking as the seven-year-old backed up with both hands held in front of her in a weak attempt to ward him off. “Do you know what happens to little girls who think my kissing is gross?” he asked menacingly.

Aubrey was laughing so hard she could barely get the words out. “No, what?”

He lunged and caught her.

She shrieked.

Hunter questioned his wriggling burden one more time. “So you don’t think you’d like my kisses, hmm?”

Aubrey shook her head emphatically.

“I’ll give you ten years, my little pullet,” Hunter said. “Then we’ll see what you have to say about the subject.”

She really shrieked then and folded up laughing as he gently tickled her.

“I still think it’s gross and I’m still gonna tell,” Aubrey managed to say between giggles. “I’m gonna tell everybody you and Johanna were kissing.”

Just as Hunter was preparing a reply, a young voice yelled down from up above. “Uncle Hunter? Mikie threw Aaron’s toothbrush in the potty while I was using it. Then he flushed it down all because Aaron said his teeth were whiter than Mikie’s and Mikie probably wouldn’t get no stars. How’s Aaron gonna brush his teeth now? We coulda cleaned it up, couldn’t we? I mean, if we used lots and lots of soap? But it’s gone now. Mikie flushed it down. Aaron’s really mad ’cuz he only got half his teeth done. I think maybe it was the top half, but it coulda been the bottom. Want me to ask him?”





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/terry-essig/a-gleam-in-his-eye/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.