going to get rich off those Santas she made, that was for sure.
The fact was, he worried about Joanna. A lot more than he’d ever admit to Tori, who’d for sure take it the wrong way. But he didn’t like the idea of Joanna being all by herself in that big house, when he had the kids. And he didn’t like the idea of her being lonely, either. Oh, she could act as independent as she wanted, but Bobby knew her. Joanna was a woman with a lot of love to give. Hell, why else would she have stuck out the marriage as long as she had? So, yeah. Joanna’s falling in love again, getting married again, would be a very good thing for everybody. Somebody good at fixing things would be a bonus. Or well off enough to pay for somebody else to do it. Somebody to take the heat off of Bobby. One of those win-win situations, you know?
But who? He’d tried to get Jo to go out with some of his friends, but she’d never gotten past a first date with any of ’em. If only he knew somebody he could nudge in her direction, y’know? Like when he used to sell cars, before Joanna’s father hooked him up with the advertising manager at the TV station. Somebody would come into the showroom and Bobby’d simply steer ’em toward the car he figured they’d like. Then, if they showed interest, he’d close the deal.
He really, really liked closing deals.
They pulled up in front of Jo’s house, the house he no longer lived in but was still expected to help keep up, Bobby frowning when he saw Karleen’s shiny white Expedition hogging half the driveway, parked behind the Playing for Keeps pickup. Huh. Guess they weren’t finished yet.
Huh.
The kids and Tori got out of the car—Tori had to pee every five minutes these days, seemed like—but Bobby sat there, thinking. Shoving the puzzle pieces around to see if he could get them to fit. Thinking about how, when he’d come out onto the patio earlier, he thought he’d picked up on some pretty heavy-duty, who-the-hell-are-you? vibes from Dale. As if Bobby’d interrupted something.
As if maybe the dude was interested in Joanna.
Now if maybe Joanna was interested back…
Aw, come on…it couldn’t be this easy.
Could it?
A grin stretched across his face.
Dale seemed nice enough, Bobby guessed he was okay to look at, and he probably had money. Hell, star players raked in serious bucks.
Of course, Joanna would probably have a fit if she knew what Bobby was thinking.
Which just meant Bobby’d better be good and sure she never found out.
Chapter 5
Great, Joanna thought. The kids were here, but the play set wasn’t finished. Once again, a man had made a promise he hadn’t kept. Except then Joanna walked out onto the back patio as the boys let out gleeful shrieks at their first glimpse of the set, and she thought, So what? What was important here? That her kids were happy, or that everything went according to her schedule?
And happy they were, bouncing around like a pair of fleas and bombarding Dale with a million questions. Neither twin had ever been the slightest bit shy about talking to strangers, which had been a constant source of worry to her when they were younger. That this particular stranger posed no threat to her sons was of little comfort, since she was the one in danger—from the way his expression lit up when the boys flew across the yard, his laughter as he hoisted them up into the fort.
Her stomach flip-flopped at the still-warm memory of her and Karleen’s conversation.
Talk about the power of suggestion. Left to her own devices, Joanna would never consider actually doing anything about her attraction to Dale. What would have been the point? But then Karleen’d had to go and mess with her head and make her think she needed something she didn’t, like the time she’d talked Joanna into buying a pair of boots she’d ended up wearing exactly once.
What a perfectly good waste of lust that had been.
Just as this would be.
“You’re staring,” Karleen said behind her, making her jump.
“Am not.”
“Are, too.”
“Go to hell.”
That got what, from anyone else, would have been a cackle. From Karleen, who still had smoker’s voice even though she’d given it up five years ago, the sound was more like what an engine did when it didn’t want to turn over. “Looks like he’s good with kids.”
“I should hope so. Considering he owns a toy store.”
“Yeah, well, remember Mr. Salazar? Our Driver’s Ed teacher? The one who hated to drive?”
“Karleen, you can’t make opposing points in the same observation.”
“Speaking of points,” Karleen said, nodding toward the boys who were storming back toward Joanna at full tilt. Grinning, they wrapped all four arms around Joanna’s hips. Matt muttered a quick, “Thanks,” then took off again, leaving Ryder still clamped to her.
“This is the best birthday ever! Thanks, Mom!”
If it had been up to her, she would have told the kids outright the set came from her mother, but Glynnie had insisted they think it came from Bobby and her. Why it was okay for the kids to think their parents were spoiling them, but not their grandparents, was something Joanna had never understood. Especially considering the million and one Christmas gifts that appeared under the tree every year clearly labeled “From Geegee and Gramps.”
She smoothed back Ryder’s wild hair, then looked up to catch Dale watching them and thought, Oh, God, no. Not the lost-soul look. A flush blossomed across her skin, from all sorts of things. Surprise and consternation and, yes, dammit, arousal.
“You’re welcome, sugar pie,” she said, unhooking both her eyeballs and hormones from Dale and hugging close the small body that belonged to her. A slightly let-down feeling that this would probably be the last “little kids” birthday trickled through. By next year, who knew what the boys would be into?
Ryder took off, leaving his warmth imprinted on her skin, underneath the cotton sweater she’d put on. Her arms folded, her gaze followed his path back to the play set.
And Dale. Who was still watching her.
Karleen sniggered beside her.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“The way you two are playing pass-the-eyeball, for one thing. And if you dare tell me you’re not enjoying having a hunk like that gawk at you, I’m calling the undertaker, ’cause you must be dead.”
A good three or four seconds later Joanna said, “I’m not dead.”
Karleen let out a sigh of what sounded like relief, only to then mutter, as Bobby came around from the front of the house, “That’s my cue to make myself scarce before I say something I’ll regret.”
With that, Karleen hustled back inside. Bobby waved to Joanna, but kept on toward the swing set and the kids—Joanna assumed
