wait.”
Eleanor laughed softly, then said, “I’m sorry, Troy. About the woman comment—”
“It’s okay. Forget it.”
A brief pause preceded “Anyway. Your father and I are thinking about coming down there for a visit. In a couple of months, we thought.”
Troy stilled. “Oh?”
“We’ve always wanted to see the Southwest, you know—” News to him. “But we thought we might as well wait until you got your housing situation straightened out. Of course, we can certainly stay in a hotel if it’s inconvenient—”
“No! No, of course not, there’s plenty of room here.” Good one, Mom. “But…how’s Dad? Is he up to the trip?”
“Of course he’s up to the trip, it’s been more than five years, for goodness sake!”
The doorbell rang. Wow. Domino’s must be having a slow night. “Pizza guy’s at the door, I’ve got to run,” he said, digging his wallet out of his back pocket as he thundered down the stairs. “My best to Dad.” He clapped shut his phone and swung open the door, only to jump a foot at the sight of Karleen on his doorstep.
Bookended by a pair of slightly smudged, grinning, yellow-haired boys.
“Lose something?” she said.
Chapter Two
Troy allowed himself a quarter second’s worth of sexual awareness—the perfume alone was enough to make him light-headed—before the hindsight terror thing kicked in nicely and he grabbed two skinny little arms, yanking the bodies attached thereto across his threshold.
“What’s the big idea, leaving the yard? You know you’re not supposed to go anywhere without a grown-up! Ever,” he added before Scotty could snow him with the pouty lower lip.
“We didn’t cross the street or nothin’,” Grady said, his defiance trembling at the edges. “We only went to Karleen’s.”’
“Why on earth did you do that?”
“’Cause we wanted her to come over, only you said she prob’ly had plans. ’Cept she doesn’t. Huh?” Grady said, twisting around to look up at her.
“I am so sorry,” Troy said, following his son’s gaze, which was when it registered that Karleen was wearing one of those painted-on exercise outfits that left little to the imagination, and that her skin was flushed—From exercise? From being pissed?—and her lipstick was eaten off and she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, leaving all these soft little bits hanging around her face and her eyes huge underneath her bangs and—
“We were coming right back,” Scotty said softly, cruelly derailing Troy’s train of thought.
Kids. Right.
Troy straightened up, forking a hand through his hair. Giving them the Dad-is-not-amused face. “That’s not the point. You’re too little to be by yourselves, even for a minute.”
Grady’s little forehead crumpled. “Then how come you always tell us what big boys we are?”
“Yeah,” Scotty said, nodding, looking impossibly tiny and vulnerable. Not for the first time, responsibility walloped Troy square in the chest.
So he pointed a hopefully stern finger in their faces. “You’re not that big,” he said, just as a compact sedan with a Domino’s sign clamped to the roof screeched up in front of the house, and the kids started hopping around like grasshoppers, chanting, “Piz-za! Piz-za! Piz-za!”
“No, wait,” he said to Karleen as she made her getaway (he couldn’t imagine why), breathing an oddly relieved sigh when she stopped, biding her time while Troy paid the pizza guy. After the very well-tipped teen loped back toward his car, Troy focused again on Karleen. Her arms were crossed underneath her breasts, her lips curved in a Mona Lisa smile as she watched the boys. The sun had begun to go down in earnest, soft-edging the shadows, leaving a chill in its wake. He wondered if she was cold…
“Good Lord, honey…how long has it been?”
Troy’s head snapped up. “What?”
Bemusement danced in her eyes. “If you stare at my chest any harder, my bra’s gonna catch fire.”
“I—I’m sorry, I don’t usually…” He blew out a breath, his face hotter than the pizza. “I didn’t mean…” She laughed. Troy sighed again. “Okay, so maybe I did. But I’m not a letch, I swear.”
“Oh, don’t go gettin’ your boxers in a bunch. You’re just bein’a man, is all. No harm, no foul. It’s kinda cute, actually.”
Cute. Not exactly the image he was going for.
Oh, God. He was staring. Again. Not at her breasts, at least, but still.
“Uh…thanks for bringing the guys back,” he said, shifting the pizzas.
One eyebrow lifted. “I hadn’t exactly planned on keepin’ ’em.”
“More’s the pity,” Troy muttered, then shook his head. “Honestly, I have no idea what got into them, they’ve never gone off like that before. But you really are welcome to stay. If you haven’t eaten, I mean.” He hefted the two boxes, which he now realized were slowly melting his palms. And probably the salad on top. “There’s plenty. I’ll even promise to behave,” he said, remembering to smile.
Now it was apparently her turn to stare, in that thoroughly assessing way women had that made men feel about six. “So the boys really came all on their own? You didn’t send them over?”
Troy jerked. “What? No! Why would you think that?”
“Sorry. I just…” For one small moment, wisps of regret floated between them, only to spiral off into nothingness when she said, “Thanks for the offer, anyway. But I can’t.”
She pivoted and again started back toward her house.
Let her go, let her go…
“Another time?”
Karleen turned. “You’re not serious?”
“Well, yeah, actually I am.” What? “Was. I mean, we’re neighbors and everything…” He shrugged. Lamely.
“Yeah, well, it’s the and everything part of that sentence that worries me.”
“Figure of speech,” Troy muttered, fighting another blush. Bad at this didn’t even begin to cover it. “I promise, Karleen, I’m not coming on to you.”
“Well, no, you haven’t reached salivatin’ stage yet, maybe. But you are definitely coming on to me.”
Troy snagged the Really? before it got past his lips, then thought, Hey, maybe this is easier than I thought. Or maybe she is.
Then he remembered she was the one walking away.
