nipples, also showing through the bubbles, were hard. What in the hell was she doing? And why?
“Would it offend you terribly if I said I wish I was there with you?”
It should. Instead, he was turning her on. She’d thought of little else but him since the first time she’d seen him. And these days, people thought nothing of going straight to sex. People, maybe. Not Sue.
“Are you saying it?”
“Are you offended?”
“I’m trying to be.”
“Don’t try so hard.”
“Rick…”
“I know. It’s complicated.”
This was the oddest…whatever it was…she’d ever encountered. “I’mnot offended.” But she was scared to death. What was happening to her? Who was this man who’d turned her inside out just by appearing in her life?
“Tell me if there are bubbles in that water with you. And let me imagine what you look like right now. Let me imagine, just for tonight, that I’m there with you…”
SUE DIDN’T ANSWER HER phone Sunday morning any of the three times Rick called. She didn’t answer it Sunday afternoon, either. Nor did she respond to the messages he left.
Her parents were gone. She’d said they were flying out early.
So maybe she’d gone to church.
And then out to lunch. And to a family get-together or to the park or out with friends he didn’t know about. Maybe there was a foster family group that met once a month.
Or…
By seven o’clock he’d run out of excuses for her. As conscientious as Sue was, she wouldn’t have those babies out all day, missing nap times, and then into the night, as well.
Which meant one of two things. Either she was avoiding him or something was wrong.
He couldn’t believe, after the incredible phone call they’d shared the night before, that she’d just avoid him. They’d started something. Sue wasn’t the type to tease.
A too-familiar fear tightened his chest. He’d rationalized that last time with Hannah, too. Made excuses when his six-year-old hadn’t called him immediately when she got out of class, as was their agreement.
Rick tucked his shirttail into his jeans, grabbed his wallet and keys and headed for the door.
Traffic was light—not many people out in the dark on a Sunday night in March—and he was out of town driving south in a matter of minutes. Made it to Sue’s before eight.
When he saw the lights on, he briefly considered driving on past.
He had to knock three times before she pulled open the door. She was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved, red-and-white-striped pullover, her feet bare. As though she’d been home awhile.
“Is everyone okay?” he asked, still on edge with the heightened sense of awareness that tragedy struck without warning.
“Yes.” Since her gaze was focused somewhere around his chin, he couldn’t tell if she was angry, offended or secretly glad to see him. Rick took it as a good sign that she hadn’t shut the door in his face.
“I called.”
“I know.”
He nodded. Stood there with his hands in his pockets. And thought of her voice, soft and seductive. The sound of water trickling over naked skin…
“Last night was a mistake.”
So she had been avoiding him. “Why?”
In the doorway, a barrier between him and her home, Sue said, “I…with Carrie…it’s not right.”
At least she hadn’t said she wasn’t interested in him.
“I’m not going to be used,” she added.
Eyes narrowed, Rick hardly felt the fifty-degree chill. “Regarding Carrie, you mean.”
“It fits, doesn’t it? I fall for you. I give you what you want—your niece.”
“When did you come up with this theory? Before or after you shared your bath with me?”
“After.”
Her doubts were understandable. He blamed her for them, anyway.
“How about, I meet my niece’s foster mother. She’s different from any woman I’ve ever met. I want to get to know her. And the more I do, the more she’s in my thoughts all day long—”
“Can you honestly tell me those thoughts don’t include the fact that I can help you get Carrie?”
“My interest in you doesn’t have anything to do with that.”
“But you still hope I’ll help.”
“Of course I do.”
“Like I said, last night was a mistake.” She started to close the door.
“Wait.” Rick shoved his foot between the door and the jamb. “I hope you’ll help,” he said, “but last night…my interest in you…that has nothing to do with Carrie.”
“Uh-huh. And will it still be there if I recommend that your niece be placed with your mother?”
He didn’t like the question. “I think so.” His answer was instant, and honest.
“But you aren’t sure.”
“Last night did not happen with any thought in mind of you helping me with Carrie. I was thinking of you. Period.”
She glanced down—so did he—and saw her toes curling around the edge of the door frame.
“I don’t want a serious relationship,” she said when she glanced back up.
She’d said that before. “How about friendship?”
“I’m not going to help you with Carrie. If I think she’d be better off with your mother, I’m going to say so.”
“I know.”
“And you’re okay with that.”
“Not really. But I’ve been forewarned.”
“And you still want to be my friend?”
“I still want to explore last night further.”
When Sue grimaced, the tension between them escalated. “You’re not easy to peg, Rick Kraynick. Or to ignore.”
“Neither are
