of jewelry and carousel racks filled with the latest styles. She couldn’t quite gauge how old he was. Her age, maybe?
Reluctantly she returned her attention to the sweaters on the table, taking another peek at him as he went to the cashier’s desk and spoke to the manager. Those shoulders filled out the hunter-green sweater to perfection. She could only imagine the muscles there. His gray stone-washed jeans fit his backside even better. The cross trainers he wore were expensive, and she wondered if he’d come in to buy somebody a Christmas present.
Stop it, she scolded herself. As if you’d consider getting involved with anyone right now, let alone a hunk who’d be scared to death of three kids and a mortgage payment the size of the Eastern Seaboard.
Angela was stacking sweaters into a neat pile when a deep male voice made her jump.
“Are you Angela Schumacher?”
Spinning around, clutching a sweater to her chest, she looked up into the fascinating hazel eyes of the blond man who’d walked in a few minutes before.
Flustered, she had trouble finding her voice. Finally she managed to say, “I’m Angela.”
He extended his hand. “I’m David Moore. I’ve been selected to be Anthony’s Big Brother.”
“I see,” she replied inanely, not knowing what else to say. His hand was still extended and she slipped hers into it, immediately aware of the heat shooting up her arm, the increased rate of her pulse, the giddy feeling she hadn’t experienced since she was a teenager.
Composing herself, she pulled her hand away. “The community center said you’d give me a call before you stopped by the house.”
“When I called your house and explained who I was, your sitter told me you were working here tonight. Zooey, her name is.”
“Oh, Zooey’s my neighbor. She’s watching the kids for me while my sister’s on a business trip and…” She trailed off feeling foolish. “It’s complicated.”
“Life usually is.”
His smile curled her toes. What was wrong with her? Her ex-husband had taught her many lessons and she’d remembered them all. She wanted nothing to do with another relationship.
A little voice she didn’t recognize whispered, Who’s talking about a relationship? What about a torrid affair?
Feeling herself flush, Angela asked, “Do you live near here?” She still didn’t understand why he had just dropped in.
“No. But my store’s across the plaza—Moore’s Sporting Goods.”
She hadn’t made the connection. “That’s you?”
“That’s me. I coach high-school football on the side. That’s how I got involved with the mentoring program.”
His hazel eyes turned a bit greener, and Angela wondered how old he really was, how he’d come to own a sporting goods store and why he coached on the side. Too many questions. She didn’t care, did she? Well, she cared where Anthony’s well-being was at stake. She really didn’t know anything about this man…
As if he’d read her thoughts, he took a folded sheet of paper out of his back pocket, unfolded it and handed it to her. “Here are my stats with basic information and the names of parents of kids I’ve mentored. If you don’t like what you see there or you don’t get the information you want to hear from my references, you can choose another mentor. I know these days parents need to check out anyone who will be spending time with their kids.”
“Do you have children?”
“No.”
That’s all he said, but he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. The absence of one didn’t mean anything, and besides, she shouldn’t even be looking.
“I thought I could spend some time with Anthony on Saturday.”
She’d have two days to check out his references. That should be enough time. “I work here in the morning, but afternoon would be okay. I have to tell you, though, my son doesn’t like the idea of a mentor or a Big Brother.”
“He might change his mind once we actually do some fun stuff. We’ll go easy and take it a little at a time.”
Her gaze fell to his lips and she felt that giddiness again. A little at a time. Is that the way he handled women, too? Shoot. Something must have triggered hormones she didn’t even know she had.
Someone nudged Angela’s elbow. “Ms. Schumacher? Does this go together?”
Angela looked down at Denise, a twelve-year-old who often came into the store without her mom.
“You’re busy,” David Moore remarked. “I don’t want to take up your time. “I’ll see you Saturday afternoon.”
“Saturday afternoon,” she repeated, reminding herself she needed help with Anthony, not a hot affair.
Then she laughed inwardly. Who could possibly have a hot affair with three kids around?
Angela shook her gloved hands, trying to bring some warmth back into them. Snow had fallen last night into this morning. Even though it was early December, the four inches that had fluttered down like fairy dust had collected and stayed. She knew she should probably wait to tack up the string of lights around her front door, but she had time right now, and that was something she didn’t often have. The sky was gray, as if snow could fall again at any minute, and the temperature hovered at freezing.
Angela concentrated on climbing the small ladder carefully and attaching nail-on clips that would hold icicle lights around the perimeter of the porch roof. Her two-story Colonial was gray-and-white brick. The breezeway attaching the garage to the house sported white siding with gray shutters. She loved the house and it suited her needs perfectly. After Jerome left, she’d used her settlement to turn the space above the garage into an apartment for Megan. The arrangement had worked well for both of them. But at the end of the month Megan would be moving out, and Angela would have to cover the entire mortgage herself, as well as the utilities, until she found a renter. The problem was she couldn’t let just anyone move in. It had to be someone she could trust around her kids.
The purr of a vehicle’s engine along Danbury Way slowed. Angela didn’t pay much attention. There were nine houses in the cul-de-sac; somebody was always coming and going. However, the vehicle pulled into her driveway. When she heard the slam of the door, she finished hammering in a clip then turned to look.
She almost lost her balance. David Moore was walking toward her, and she realized she was surprised. She’d half expected him not to show up, even though his references had said he was reliable. According to them, he’d kept all his appointments with their kids. But in Angela’s experience men usually bowed out of important events, didn’t stick around or keep vows.
“That doesn’t look too steady,” David noticed, as he motioned to the rickety ladder.
“I only have a few more clips left, then I’ll be finished.”
“It might be easier for someone taller to do it. I don’t have to reach as high. Come on, let me help you down.”
He
