want him in your life, Jamiekins. I want you to know that you have an awesome and amazing dad who is making the world a better place for a lot of people.” Her voice dropped. “But I want you to have brothers and sisters, too. And I don’t want to be alone all my life.”
She’d hidden behind house repairs and getting reacquainted for two days. It was time to talk about the divorce.
* * *
BOONE HAD SET his alarm for five thirty, hoping that would give him enough lead time to jump in the shower and have the coffee going for Kate when she got up. But he woke on his own a few minutes after four, jerked out of sleep by the need to escape a bad dream. He couldn’t remember the details. There had been slamming doors and a child crying and a sense of deep loss that still clung to him. And cold. So, so cold.
He pulled the quilt higher, paying careful attention to the soft rub of the flannel sheets against his skin, the slightly floral scent of the fabric softener, the comforting weight of the blankets over his body. Tiny details. All those things that tied him to the moment.
What’s done is done. What’s ahead is unknown. But right now, you’re fine.
He distracted himself by carefully examining the decision he’d made the previous day, the one he didn’t dare reveal to Kate until he was certain he could pull it off. Logic said it was impossible. But if there was one thing he’d learned after years of writing grants for a cash-strapped nonprofit, it was that when it came to finances, logic didn’t always have the last word.
Kate wanted to stay in this house. She was putting a good face on the need to repair and sell, but he knew her. She was all about history and tradition and family.
Family.
He sent a mental scowl toward the bastard who had fathered her. To be rejected like that, sight unseen, would have been a killer for any kid. For Kate, who had just lost the only father she’d known, who had grown up steeped in family history, it must have been devastating.
He couldn’t make up for that. But he could damned well find a way to keep her in this house where her grandmother had lived and died, to get it fixed up to the point that she wouldn’t have to worry about falling through the frickin’ floor every time she crossed the porch.
He was going to need a second job. Or a loan.
Or, probably, both.
He had no idea how to make that happen. But if nothing else, mentally calculating interest rates and updating his résumé made it possible for him to fall asleep again.
Which was good—except he slept through the alarm.
Which was also good—until he woke up and heard Kate singing.
“Que huevon,” he said as he threw back the covers. Yeah. He definitely wasn’t acclimated if he was still relying on Peruvian slang to call himself a lazy ass.
Half an hour later, showered and dressed, he made it downstairs only to find Kate eating toast at the computer. Jamie lay tummy-down on a blanket by her side, staring at the stuffed alpaca Boone had brought for him. Jamie made a sound, and Kate stretched out one enticingly bare foot and tapped his back with her toes.
“Coffee’s ready,” she sang out without looking up.
“All this and coffee, too?” Boone let out a low whistle. “God, you’re amazing.”
He knew he shouldn’t have said it as soon as the words slipped out. It was the kind of thing he would have said last year.
Did he still mean it? More than ever. But now he couldn’t think of a single way it could sound anything but wrong.
Kate stopped chewing for a second, stopped tapping on the keyboard.
Then, with a deep breath, she turned to him with a smile.
“Yep, that’s me. Kate Hebert, semisingle mom, day care director, able to push those buttons and start that coffee like nobody’s business.”
Retreat seemed the best option.
He took his time doctoring his cup, giving them both a few minutes to find their equilibrium before he tried again, sitting in the rocking chair and focusing on Jamie.
“Morning, squirt.”
Jaime squealed and waved his arms in a swimming motion. Boone risked a glance at Kate.
“Is this how Michael Phelps started?”
“That, I can’t answer. But it’s good that he’s doing that. It helps with his bilateral coordination. Also, God help me, it’s a precursor to crawling.”
“Of course. I knew that.” He bent down and mock whispered in Jamie’s direction. “Here’s a hint, kid. Don’t give your mother an opening before you’re really awake.”
Kate huffed and hit the keyboard a bit harder.
“Do you need the car this morning? I should run to the hardware store.” And the bank, but he wasn’t going to mention that.
“Be my guest.” She leaned closer to the computer monitor, peering so intently that Boone wondered if the prime minister had been photographed shirtless in public again. “I need some things, too. You can be my lackey.”
He mock bowed in his chair. “Your wish is my command.”
Too late, he remembered another time he had said that. In a very different location. With a lot fewer clothes.
Would he ever learn?
“Here.” She grabbed a paper from the printer, made a couple of marks on it with a pen, then handed the printout to him. “You’re going to need this. Not today, but, soon. Ish.”
He read over the list of names and addresses, first in confusion, then with the sense of inevitability he hadn’t felt since he was a kid.
“Divorce lawyers?” It shouldn’t have been so hard to ask. He’d known this was coming. Hell, he had been the one who’d followed “You know, we could get married” with an almost-immediate “Temporarily, of course.”
With a start he realized his hand had gone to his throat, searching for the fake rabbit’s foot he used to wear when he was a kid. Good God. He hadn’t thought about that in years.
She cleared her throat. “Yes. Right.”
Sure. That was why he was here.
“I... Look, of course you’ll want to choose your own lawyer, but I thought it might be easier if I pulled together some names for you. A starting point, since I know who is most convenient.”
He ran a finger down the list, lingering over the names she’d starred, buying time. “It’s not like either of us is fighting this.” At least, not legally. “I don’t see why we need to pay two lawyers when we’re in agreement already.”
“Conflict of interest. Legal ethics.”
“Lawyers have ethics?”
Her
