might have angered her had he not been smiling when he’d said it. “I guess that’s one way to do it.”
Kieran started to speak but instead cleared his throat. “We have company.”
She leaned forward to discover Stormy sitting at the nearby dinette, tying her new sneakers. Not knowing how long she’d been there, Erica prayed her daughter hadn’t overheard the conversation. That would require a very lengthy explanation.
“Are you ready, kiddo?” Kieran asked as he joined Stormy at the table.
She nodded and said, “Where’s the ball and glove?”
“In my bag in the den. We can get it on our way out.”
“You can go in the backyard,” Erica said. “It’s fenced.”
He ruffled Stormy’s hair. “The backyard it is. I’ll meet you there.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Stormy charged out the back door while Kieran temporarily left the room before returning with the ball and two gloves. She expected him to make a quick exit but instead he came back into the kitchen. “Regarding our previous discussion, I wasn’t completely honest with you.”
Erica stopped unwrapping the fish to listen. “Which part?”
“About shutting you up. Truth is, you’re damned sexy when you’re laughing and you flash those dimples. So do me a favor and don’t do it again.”
Sexy? She was sexy? Well how about that. “I’ll try not to laugh in your presence from now on, but I make no promises.”
“That’s all I ask.” He headed out the door, taking his incredible scent and sensual smile with him.
Erica had the urge to sing while she went about preparing the food. She also had the urge to laugh. Her spirits had definitely been buoyed by his declaration, and also by the scene taking place outside the garden window.
Stormy threw the ball to Kieran with accuracy, with more exuberance than she’d witnessed from her child before. And Kieran softly tossed the ball back, undoubtedly making certain she wasn’t injured in any way. Sheer joy showed in both their faces, and Erica experienced it, too, as well as some trepidation.
Someday in the near future, Kieran wouldn’t be around to play catch, something Stormy would have to deal with. But until then, Erica wouldn’t begrudge her daughter these moments, and hoped that when the time came, they could both let him go without regret.
While Erica and Stormy loaded the last of the dishes in the washer, Kieran remained at the table and watched the pair interact. He had to admit, he’d enjoyed every minute of the dinner, even if he did detest fish. But he valued the company most of all, mainly the back-and-forth banter between mother and daughter that bordered on comical at times. They didn’t always agree on everything, but they were obviously devoted to each other.
As much as he’d enjoyed himself so far, he had to remember he’d come there for two reasons—to help Stormy with softball, and to fulfill his obligation to Erica by putting her through a workout, and not the workout he’d envisioned over the past two days. He wanted to blame his brother for putting the thoughts in his head, but he could only blame himself. He’d been keenly aware of his attraction to Erica from the moment he’d stepped onto her front porch. Denying that attraction wouldn’t change anything. Acting on impulse would, which was why he needed to remember why he was there.
After checking his watch, Kieran realized he’d come close to overstaying his welcome. “If you two are done, it’s time to get to work.”
Erica came back to the table and dropped into the opposing chair. “Just give me five more minutes and I’ll be ready.”
Stormy took the chair next to her mother. “Can I watch you exercise, Mom?”
“No, you cannot, missy,” Erica said. “But you can get ready for bed, put away your clean clothes and read the rest of the book you have to finish by Thursday.”
Stormy pushed back from the table, stood and sulked toward the hallway before turning around. “Did you call Kaylee’s mom about the party?”
“I haven’t had time, Stormy, but I’ll call her tomorrow. Now scoot.”
Not only did Stormy fail to scoot, she returned to the table again, this time positioning herself next to Kieran. “Mom doesn’t want me to go to the party because boys are going to be there. That’s not fair, is it?”
Fair or not, he wasn’t about to offer his opinion for fear of screwing up again and suffering Erica’s wrath. “That’s between you and your mom, kiddo.”
Erica pointed toward the hall. “Go, Stormy.”
Stormy blew out an exaggerated breath. “Okay. But I still don’t think it’s fair.”
After Stormy left, Kieran couldn’t help but chuckle. “She’s pretty damn headstrong, isn’t she?”
Erica released a humorless laugh. “You could say that. On one hand, it drives me nuts. On the other, her tenacity’s gotten her through some really tough times. I just wish she’d learn a little moderation.”
“Moderation is good,” he said. “So was dinner.”
She leaned forward, braced an elbow on the table and supported her cheek with her palm. “Was it? I thought the fish was kind of dry.”
A little, but he wasn’t going to say anything to hurt her feelings. “It was fine. Best fish I’ve had in a long time.” The only fish he’d had in years.
“Do you think I’m being too protective about the party?”
He could lie and guarantee a pleasant remainder of the evening, or he could be truthful and possibly be prematurely asked to leave. “How old are the boys?”
“Mostly eleven-year-olds, I’d guess.”
“Eleven-year-old boys aren’t too bad. Twelve is another story altogether.”
She smiled, bringing her dimples into full view. “I suppose you should know since you were one once.”
“A long time ago, but I still remember some of it.” Especially the memories that involved sticking up for his brother on the playground, before Kevin had finally caught up in size to everyone else his age and started fighting his own battles.
“Then you think she’d be okay if I let her go?”
He didn’t particularly care for being put on the spot, but since she’d asked…“I think you should trust her to make the right decisions. She’s a smart kid with a good head on her shoulders.”
Erica leaned back against the chair and sighed. “But it seems so important to her to fit in. I worry that peer pressure could lead her to make the wrong decisions. On the way home from the club Saturday night, she actually asked me about kissing. She’s not even eleven yet.”
That could mean only one thing. “She didn’t happen to see—”
“I don’t think so,”
