other better, don’t you?”
“I suppose,” she said cautiously, making the mistake of meeting his steady gaze. Her heart somersaulted. Those eyes of his could lure a woman into forgetting all reason, to say nothing of professional ethics and quite possibly her name. Her hands slid right off the seat. She clasped them tightly in her lap, drew in a shaky breath and added quickly, “For Kevin’s sake.”
He nodded. “Of course. Why don’t we start by using first names?”
“I really don’t think it would be appropriate, especially not in front of Kevin.”
“But he’s not here right now. Let’s compromise. You call me Todd and I’ll call you Miss Liz.”
She grinned despite herself. “You call that a compromise?”
“You’d rather call me Mr. Todd?”
A faint smile playing about his lips mocked the seriousness of his tone. Liz frowned at his determined impudence, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Retreat now would give him a victory in a battle she’d almost forgotten how to fight. Instead the tension built just as it had earlier, crackling through the air like summer’s lightning.
It was Kevin who broke it, joining them with a huge grin on his face.
“Hey, Dad, guess what! I beat Joey Simons at Battle of the War Lords!”
“That’s great, son,” he said without taking his eyes from her mouth for one single second. Her lips were parched and she wanted very badly to run her tongue over them, but knew perfectly well that would only inflame the situation. She grabbed her glass of water and drank the whole thing. Todd grinned with unabashed satisfaction.
“Will you and Mrs. Gentry play with me?” Kevin pestered. “Joey had to go home.”
With obvious reluctance, Todd tore his gaze away from her and looked at Kevin. “What about your hamburger? It should be here in a minute.”
“Oh, yeah.” He slid in next to his father. “I forgot.”
Watching Kevin and his father together, Liz felt a lump lodge in her throat. Suddenly she wanted to cry. There was so much adoration in Kevin’s eyes, such a sense of camaraderie between them, it almost reminded her of… Closing her eyes against the surge of pain, she sealed off the thought before it could form.
“I think I should be going,” she said suddenly, just as the meal arrived. “I’ll pay the check on my way out.”
“No!” The protest was voiced by father and son.
“Really, it’s late.” She needed to escape before the threatening tears embarrassed her.
“We just got here. You haven’t even eaten your hamburger,” Kevin said.
“I’m not really hungry. Your father can have it.”
“A little while ago you said you were starving,” Todd reminded her. His penetrating gaze seemed to see right through her flimsy excuse.
“Besides, it won’t be the same,” Kevin said. “You promised me a celebration.”
At the mention of the promise, her determination wavered. Kevin might be manipulating, but he was using the truth to do it. She had promised. However, if she’d had any idea what sitting in this booth across from Todd Lewis would be like, she would have devised some other reward for Kevin. She would have seen to it that it didn’t require being crowded into such close quarters with a disturbingly masculine parent who insisted on toppling all barriers between them, starting with the informal way he meant to address her. Miss Liz, indeed!
Kevin was gazing at her now with wide, hopeful eyes. His father’s eyes had a speculative gleam in them, as if he’d guessed that he was the reason for her desire to run and was wondering how to capitalize on his advantage. That decided her. She would stay. She would eat every bite of her hamburger, even if she choked on it.
She gave Todd Lewis her most defiant, go-to-hell glare and picked up the ketchup. Her gaze never wavered as she shook the bottle. Kevin’s sharp gasp drew her attention. She glanced down. Her hamburger had virtually disappeared in a sea of thick red ketchup. She groaned. How could she have done something that stupid?
“I’ll order you another one,” Todd said, reaching for her plate.
She grabbed it back. “This one’s fine. I like a lot of ketchup.” Her tongue nearly tripped over the flat-out lie. Still, she refused to admit to her foolish mistake.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll take it and get you another one.”
“I’ll just scrape a little of this off,” she said stubbornly.
He shrugged finally. “Suit yourself.”
Liz determinedly scraped off enough ketchup to serve all the fans in the stadium during next Sunday’s Dolphins game. She took her first bite, then forced a smile as Kevin and Todd watched her expectantly.
“You’re sure it’s okay?” Todd asked, his expression doubtful.
“Just fine,” she said with forced cheer.
To herself, she vowed to get through the next half hour without coming unglued, if it was the last thing she ever did. She also swore that she would not under any circumstances ever admit to either of the males across from her that she absolutely never ate ketchup. It gave her hives.
Chapter 3
Todd pulled his pickup into the lot behind the elementary school. The dusty playground was empty, except for a forgotten soccer ball. The swings shifted slowly in the hot stirring of humid air. The cloudless sky burned a merciless reminder that Miami was still weeks away from the first cool nights and gentle days.
As if the weather weren’t enough to sap energy, Todd felt an age-old feeling of intimidation squeezing his chest as he walked around the corner of the low, brick building. When he’d finally graduated from high school two years late, he’d vowed never to cross the threshold of another school. He was here now only because of Kevin. And one feisty teacher who wouldn’t let well enough alone, he reminded himself.
As he neared the entrance, he heard the faint ringing of a bell and a moment later the quiet erupted into a scene of absolute chaos. Several hundred noisy, rambunctious students began pouring through the doors like salmon frantic to get upstream. He stood out of the way and watched, hoping to catch a glimpse of the determinedly staid Mrs. Gentry in the midst of the pandemonium.
It took him only a few minutes to spot her. Her red hair was pulled tautly back. Curly strands, indifferent to her efforts at restraint, had escaped to create a halo that glittered a coppery gold in the sunlight. In her slim beige skirt, emerald green silk blouse and sensible beige pumps, she was solemnly leading a perfectly formed line toward one of the bright yellow Dade County school buses. The impression of rigidity returned with a thud, correcting a night of more alluring dreams.
Then he saw a small girl of six or seven lift a laughing face toward her. Elizabeth’s—Miss Liz’s—generous mouth curved into an answering smile. With fingers that seemed somehow hesitant she reached out and lovingly brushed a strand of hair
