paces slowed. “Only in a general sense.”
His protectiveness toward her grew. “What did you tell them?”
She leaned into him, her voice soft. “That they were my very own little miracles, sent from heaven so we could be a family.”
So true.
“And that not all families have daddies, or mommies, for that matter.” Her voice caught slightly. Embarrassed, she averted her gaze. “And it’s okay, as long as children have at least one parent who loves them.” She swallowed, composing herself, as their steps slowed even more, then stopped. “And I do love them, very much.”
“You’re a wonderful mom, Kelly.” He grasped her shoulders, and turned her to face him.
She sighed with a mixture of sadness and frustration. “And yet, I can’t give them what they should really have had all along. A complete family.”
Maybe not with her ex-husband. But there were other possibilities, too.
He searched her face, not really all that surprised by the depth of her concern. Or his. Kelly and the triplets were fast filling the empty corners of his heart. Gruffly, he observed, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your kids are all doing great.”
With a faint smile, she tipped her face up to his and conceded cautiously, “For now, yes, because so far they’ve accepted my version of events. Although—” she inhaled sharply, looking worried again “—as you noticed, Matthew and Michelle are fixated on my finding a husband.” Another even longer, more heartfelt sigh. “That way, they figure, they’d have a daddy.”
“Michael...?” Dan prodded.
Kelly made an exasperated face. “Also wants a daddy. But he doesn’t want me to have a husband.”
“Complicated.”
Kelly lifted her eyes heavenward before finishing wryly, “Oh, yes, my life is most definitely complicated.”
As was his. Now that she and her kids were in it.
“And it’s about to get even more complicated,” Kelly fretted as they resumed walking once again.
“Because...?”
Dan turned the corner with her, aware if they went any slower they’d soon be going backward. He didn’t mind. He was in no hurry to get to the concert, either. He much preferred simply spending time with her.
Kelly turned her gaze back to his and lamented softly, “In two weeks, the preschool is hosting the Father’s Day picnic. And I know all of these questions, and more, are likely to come up then.”
* * *
KELLY DIDN’T KNOW why she had confided so much in Dan. Usually, she kept her personal feelings about things locked away inside. But there was just something about being with the big, strapping lawman that made her feel it was okay to let down her guard a little. Enjoy life again.
“So who knows about what you’ve gone through?” he asked with the trademark McCabe compassion.
Kelly pushed away the desire roaring through her and forced herself to respond rationally, “The entire story? Here in Laramie? Just you.”
His blue eyes filled with understanding. “What does everyone else think?”
If she strained to listen, she could hear the sounds of the concert in the distance. Kelly turned to look up at him. She knew it was reckless, but the romance-starved part of her did not want their time alone together to end.
“They think,” she said, “that I had a brief, unsuccessful marriage in Arizona to a man who decided he did not want children, and because of that, I have sole custody of my triplets.”
Giving her no chance to protest, he drew her back into his arms. “Why did you tell me?”
She drew a breath. And, knowing they were possibly on the brink of even more heartache, forced herself to look into his eyes. “Because,” she said softly, pragmatically, “I can see how interested you are in me. Or think you are, anyway. And I don’t want you to be left with the impression that any of this is going to go anywhere.”
She saw the indecipherable emotion flash briefly in his eyes and plunged on. “I owed you a date because you helped me set my mind at ease about Shoshanna. And...”
He lowered his head to hers and delivered a kiss. Short, sweet and utterly seductive.
“What was that for?” Kelly gasped, so dizzy it rocked her world.
He rocked her world.
Dan grinned and kissed her again. A little more slowly and deliberately this time. “Because,” he responded tenderly, “I didn’t want you to have to wait until the end of our date to stop fooling yourself and realize I’m not the only one feeling something here.”
* * *
IT WAS JUST one embrace. One short, sweet, incredibly tender and evocative embrace. Yet Kelly couldn’t stop thinking about it and remembering just how wonderful it had felt to be caught up against Dan McCabe’s tall, strong body.
And she was still thinking about it two hours later, after the concert ended, when he was walking her home. As well as thinking about how to phrase what she knew she had to say.
When they were one street away, she took an enervating breath and began. “You know how we agreed to just one date...?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I recall you wanting to limit it to that.”
Kelly swallowed, already tingling all over. “Because I thought that, if, at the end of our night out, either one of us just wasn’t feeling it.” Or shouldn’t be feeling it. “Then...”
He stopped walking abruptly, caught her hand. And looked deep into her eyes. “Except, Kelly, I am.”
With a great deal more difficulty than she imagined, she ignored his soft, sexy declaration and pushed on as if he hadn’t spoken. “...the two of us might decide we would be better off as friends.”
Just as he had done with the dozens of other Laramie County women he had dated.
To her consternation, he rejected the notion, again. “Or friends and more,” he murmured persuasively, lowering his head.
She barely had time to catch her breath, and then he was pulling her all the way against him, kissing her again. And again, and again. Inundating her with so many sensations at once. The hard warmth of his body. The delectably minty and masculine taste of his mouth. The clean masculine fragrance of his skin. Heavens, the man knew how to kiss. How to make her want and need and feel, how to draw her into the promise of more, so much more, before letting that same kiss come to a slow and oh-so-sensual end.
When he finally pulled back, he rasped, “I don’t think we were meant to be ‘just friends.’”
Her body didn’t think so, either.
Frazzled, she moved a slight distance
