him think of Aunt Virginia’s porcelain teacups. The woman was wearing a dark navy skirt, a white button-down blouse with the cuffs turned back and a bright red beaded necklace swinging down to her waist. Then there were the heels—tall, spiky, dark blue shoes that offset incredible legs and made something deep inside Dylan go hot.
“Ty, sorry I’m late.” She strode forward, passing Dylan as if he didn’t even exist. “I got out of work late and then had to track down Cody, who, as usual, wasn’t where he was supposed to be.” She blew a lock of hair off her face. “I swear, that kid is going to be the death of me.”
Uncle Ty put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine, Abby, really. Cody will settle in soon and Jacob is already up to his elbows in glue.”
She glanced over at the table, where Jacob—the youngest one, Dylan assumed—had already taken a seat and was sprinkling beads across bright blue construction paper. Mavis sent up a little wave, signaling I’ve got this, honey.
“Okay.” Abby let out a long sigh. “If you don’t mind, I have a proposal I need to work on. Can I...” She waved toward the office and gave Ty a smile.
For some weird reason, that smile—directed toward his uncle—sent a little flicker of jealousy through Dylan.
“Of course. Use my office. But first, I want you to meet my nephew, Dylan.” Ty turned to Dylan and gestured between the two of them. “Dylan Millwright, meet Abigail Cooper, but everyone calls her Abby. Abby, my nephew. He’s going to be helping out with the teen program.”
For the first time in his life, Dylan wished he was the kind of guy who wore a suit and tie. His battered jeans, faded concert T-shirt and black leather boots didn’t exactly match the polished, pressed woman beside him. “Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
She gave him a surprisingly firm handshake, considering how delicate she seemed at first blush. She was all business, not a spark of interest in her eyes. “You, too.”
He was about to say something witty back, but before he could come up with a handful of words more charming than uh, you’re beautiful, she was picking up the briefcase and heading for Ty’s office. A second later, the glass door closed and Abby settled herself behind Ty’s desk. She pulled a laptop out of her bag, set it up and started typing.
“I can see you watching her,” Uncle Ty said, putting a hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “And I can read interest in your eyes. I’m tellin’ you right now, Abby isn’t...”
“Isn’t the kind of woman who would date a guy like me?”
Ty turned to his nephew and the lines around his eyes softened. “I wasn’t going to say that. You’re a good man, Dylan—”
Dylan scoffed.
“A good man,” Ty repeated with emphasis, “or I wouldn’t have you here. As for Abby, she’s...complicated. One of those women juggling a whole lot of balls and not interested in having a man help catch a single one of them. Her ex was a real jerk, who let her and her boys down in a big way.”
“I’m not here to date anyone,” Dylan said and turned away from the office to prove his point. “Don’t you worry about that.”
But as he walked away and crossed toward the teenagers waiting on the sofas, Dylan wondered if he’d still be singing that tune if Abby Cooper had looked at him with even an ounce of interest. Either way, the last thing he needed was a small-town single mom with workaholic tendencies. If anything screamed complete opposite from you, that fit the bill.
He dropped into the lone armchair sitting in front of the sofas and propped his elbows on his knees. “Hey, guys, I’m Dylan. How about we talk about breaking the rules?”
* * *
Abby stared at the report in front of her. She’d spent the better part of the day putting it together, but it still didn’t feel right. Had she missed some data points? Forgotten to add the case study? She scrolled through the document, checked it against her list, then read the pages over again.
Ever since she’d taken the promotion to director of brand development at Davis Marketing, she’d worried that she’d bitten off more than she could chew. Worried that they were going to see her as a fraud, as a woman who was only pretending to be up to the job.
Because she was.
Hell, her whole life seemed to be about pretending she could handle everything, whether she actually could or not. Get up in the morning, drag Cody out of bed, feed Jake, shoo Cody out the door and pray he made it to high school this time instead of heading for the park or the mall or somewhere with his friends. Then drop Jake off at preschool, making sure he’d taken his snack and a change of clothes for just in case at daycare later and that he didn’t have anything after school that she was supposed to go to. After all that, finally head off to work. Eight or more hours later, head home and repeat the process in reverse. Sometime in that window, she was supposed to cook healthy dinners, make the house spotless, draw baths and read bedtime stories. Oh and have “me” time, with rose-petal filled bubble baths and meaty novels.
Because that was what the magazines said “women who had it all” managed to do. She’d yet to find a way to even come close to that, but it didn’t stop her from trying.
Tears sprang to her eyes and a burst of panic made her heart race. Abby drew in a deep breath, counted to ten, then whisked the tears away. There was no time to get distracted or lose her focus.
She read the pages once again, hit Send on the report, then closed the laptop. There was more on her To Do list, but it could wait until after Jake went to bed. That would mean another late night again, but her Mommy Guilt was kicking into overdrive, especially after Jake had asked in the car if she was going to work “again,” with that pouty sound in his voice and disappointment swimming in his big brown eyes.
She emerged from Ty’s office and crossed to the little kids’ table. Two more kids had arrived and now seven of them sat in pint-size chairs on either side of Mavis. She loved those kids and welcomed them like they were all her own little ducklings.
“How are you, Mavis?” Abby said. She placed a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. Mavis covered it with her own and gave Abby’s hand a friendly pat.
“Just fine, just fine.” She turned to the kids and grinned at them. “I have the best table of kittens—”
“We’re not kittens, Miss Mavis,” Jake said with a laugh in his voice. He was the happy one of her two boys, always ready with a smile or a laugh. Abby loved that about him and reached over to ruffle his hair.
“Well, I don’t know about that, Jakester,” Abby teased. “You drink milk, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you like to sleep a lot.”
Jacob laughed and cocked his head to the side, causing one lock of hair to do a little flip-flop. “That’s cuz I’m tired.”
“And you have a big old mop of fur—” She nuzzled his dark hair.
“Mommy, that’s hair! I’m a boy!”
She leaned back and pretended to study him, tapping a finger against her lip. “Well, now, I think you might be right
