to pick out distinct styles for each child. A thump made her pause, then hurry downstairs.
She opened the bathroom door and stopped dead. Gray was on the floor, on his knees, right next to the bathtub. His sleeves were rolled past the elbows, and he had each hand on a child’s head, shampooing them at the same time. The kids were all smiles.
The floor had big wet spots, as did Gray’s shirt and pants, but it was altogether a picture of family bliss. “I can see you’ve got your hands full.”
He turned to her, and for the first time since she’d arrived, he seemed comfortable. “Did you know this stuff doesn’t burn if it gets into your eyes?”
“Yep.”
“Why don’t they do that with regular shampoo?”
“That, I don’t know.” She walked in and sat on the commode. “You guys look like you’re having a good time.”
Jem held up a green plastic frog. “I got this.”
“Very nice. What’s his name?”
“Frog.”
“Ah.”
Then Scout held up a small blue whale. “His name is Bobbo.”
“It is not,” Jem said.
“It is so.”
“Not.”
“So.”
“Kids!” Shelby got their attention, then smiled. “Did you wash behind your ears?”
They both nodded, dislodging Gray’s hands, which he rinsed before he stood up.
Scout slid under the water and came up sputtering but shampoo-free. Jem did the same a moment later. Gray shook his head at his wrinkled, wet clothes, and Shelby handed him one of the towels. Together, they dried the children and helped them dress. Shelby did the honors with the hair blower while Gray rinsed the tub.
The whole time, the kids chattered like little monkeys. Jem told her all about X-men. Scout had strong opinions about Barbie. And Shelby found herself wishing this was her life. That they were her twins. That Gray was her husband.
But, of course, it was all an illusion. A side trip from her real life. A brief, shimmering moment.
She sighed as she came back down to earth. “They’re—” She froze as her gaze went to Gray’s chest. He’d unbuttoned his shirt halfway. She could see a light sprinkling of dark hair on a chest so perfect it made her teeth hurt. Shelby felt her face go hot as she caught a glimpse of his nipple.
She jerked her gaze away, appalled at the turn of her thoughts. Good grief, she’d seen men’s chests before. And even though his was spectacular, there was no reason for her imagination to take her right to the bedroom. As if that were even in the realm of possibility.
“Did you say something about bed?”
She froze. “What?”
“A nap for the kids?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She rolled her eyes at her faux pas. “But I’m thinking it’s not going to happen right away.”
His gaze went to the youngsters, who where engaged in a contest to see who could make the most horrible face. “Right. So what’s the plan?”
“You get Jem, I’ll take Scout. Maybe we can find a movie they’d like to watch.”
“Pinocchio!” Scout shouted.
“Lion King!” Jem shouted even louder.
Gray grinned at her as he grabbed Jem by the waist and hauled him over his shoulder.
Shelby caught the look of jealousy on Scout’s face, so she bent down, caught the little one by the waist and hoisted her up like a sack of potatoes. Laughter echoed off the bathroom walls as she turned to head for the living room. After her first step, Scout grabbed hold of the bottom of her shirt.
Shelby knew what was going to happen seconds before it did, and there was nothing she could do short of dropping Scout on her head. Small fingers pulled the shirt up all the way to her bra.
Shelby turned to hide her back, but it was too late. Jem’s revolted “Eww” said it all. So did Gray’s sharp intake of breath.
“Hush, Jem,” Gray whispered.
All Shelby wanted to do was disappear. She lowered Scout to the floor, then tugged her shirt into place. Why had she worn this stupid blouse? Why hadn’t she worn her yellow top, which she tucked into her pants?
“Shelby?”
She ignored Gray’s tentative query. She didn’t want to explain about the fire. About the skin grafts. About the scars. “So which is it going to be?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound light and unconcerned. “Pinocchio or Lion King?”
The ploy worked. Scout raced out of the bathroom, and Shelby followed. The footsteps behind her told her Gray had put Jem down. By the time she reached the end of the hall, Scout and Jem were already at the VCR.
She walked a little faster, but it was no good. She felt him behind her even before he put a hand on her shoulder. She tried not to flinch.
“Shelby.”
“Look, Gray. I really do have to be going. I’m supposed to be on vacation here.” They reached the living room, and she turned to face him, determined not to let any of her roiling emotions show. “I wonder if you could point me to a place to stay for the night. Preferably something close to a restaurant.”
He looked at her for a long time. To his credit, his gaze stayed on her face. It didn’t wander to her waist, which was mostly what happened when someone saw her scars. She pretty much ceased to exist as a person. She became a fire victim, a giant scar.
“You don’t have to go,” he said, his voice so gentle she felt stabbed.
“I do, honestly. I do. I’ve had a good time here, though, and I assure you, you’ll do fine with the children. They’re good kids.”
The way he looked at her told her that he wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure he should. That was the problem. No one was ever sure.
“So, um, is there a hotel?”
He nodded. “In town. The Blue Point Inn. It’s a nice place and it has a great restaurant. It’s on Main by the movie theater, impossible to miss.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I appreciate you letting me barge in. It was foolish of me to come all this way when the odds were so slim.”
“I wish I could have helped.”
“I know. But there’s still one more name on the list. With any luck, we’ll hit pay dirt.” Shelby turned and headed for the kitchen to get her purse. She hated walking in front of him. She knew that, now it was safe, he was staring at her back. Feeling sorry for
