Mistletoe Mommy Page 9

  “N-no, I can hear you perfectly.” I’m apparently suffering delayed heatstroke because my brain has turned to mush, but nothing wrong with my hearing. “Are you calling with a status report on Ellie?”

  “Dr. Higgs said she’s doing great, and we can pick her up in about an hour. He even spoke to Morgan when he called.”

  Brenna smiled at that. “Sounds like Kevin. So where are you now?”

  “We’ve been lazing by the pool.” Adam lowered his voice. “Which was incredibly peaceful until about ten minutes ago.”

  “Why? What happened then?”

  “Changing of the guards,” he snarled. So much for the smooth, dreamy caramel voice.

  She laughed. “Have you guys jetted off to Buckingham Palace without letting me know?”

  “Lifeguards,” he said succinctly. Beneath his breath, he added, “Punk.”

  “Problem?”

  “Yes. Boys are my problem. They’re inconsiderate, inconsistent and only out for One Thing,” he complained in a bitter undertone. “The other day, one of these horrid creatures caught my daughter’s eye.”

  “I see.” Brenna tried not to laugh at his expense. “So is she over there flirting with him?”

  She recalled that, in her teens, Fred had been so mortified at the thought of her dating, she’d more or less avoided the situation until college. And now he’s practically going through the phone book trying to find me a guy. She didn’t have the heart to tell Adam that parenting a daughter would probably never get any easier.

  “The other day, he was flirting with Eliza. Who is way too young for him, I might add. But now he has the colossal nerve to stand there in plain sight flirting with some fourteen-or fifteen-year-old girl whose parents obviously lack the funds to buy her the whole bathing suit.”

  “You’re cute when you rant.”

  That stopped him cold. “Cute? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “If it helps, I meant it in a good way.”

  “Yeah?” He sounded positively cheerful now, the evil lifeguard forgotten. “Well, I think you’re cute, too. And by ‘cute,’ I mean incredibly sexy.”

  Sexy? Her mouth fell open. She couldn’t recall the last time a man had called her that. “Thank you.”

  The way he’d looked at her the other night, the way he’d confidently kissed her with no warning—that had all been sexy. At the time she just hadn’t been sure she wanted to act on the latent desires he provoked. Now that she’d had a couple of days to think about it…

  “Adam?”

  “I’m listening,” he said.

  “About that k—”

  “Oh, hell,” he interrupted. “I gotta go. My little girl’s crying.”

  She knew he meant Eliza and not Morgan. “Go. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Though she applauded his efforts to comfort his daughter, the aborted conversation was a reminder that an uncomplicated summer fling with a single dad was probably an oxymoron. How could anything remain uncomplicated when kids were involved? Common sense settled over her like an itchy wool blanket. She didn’t want to interfere in the Varners’ family time, and she didn’t want to set a controversial example for those kids. It was better that she and Adam remain platonic and that she didn’t think of him as anything more than a customer she liked and respected. In fact, it would probably be for the best that she stopped thinking about him entirely.

  Yes, that was definitely what she would do. Put him out of her mind.

  How hard could that be?

  IT WAS WEIRD to come home to someone besides a dog and cat who wanted to be fed.

  When Brenna pulled into her driveway, the Varners had already parked under the carport and gone inside. Adam had called her back earlier to find out if she had any food allergies or vehement preferences on what she wanted to eat. It had occurred to her that since her schedule was made up more of rough estimates than exact times, she should tell him where the spare key was hidden in the backyard. She warned him that Zoe would definitely come through the doggie door to investigate his presence. Since the border collie had already given the Varners her canine stamp of approval, however, the worst threat she posed was trying to lick one of them in the face.

  Brenna had hesitated over telling him how to get into the house—it felt bizarrely personal to think of Adam and his three kids under her roof, amid her stuff, when she wasn’t there—but then she’d realized what a hypocrite she was being. After all, people let her into the privacy of their homes every day!

  She opened the front door and did a double take. The enticing food smell wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but the sounds of Adam calling out hello, Morgan scurrying to come greet her and Geoff laughing at some antic of Zoe’s…It was as if Brenna had turned the knob and accidentally walked into someone else’s life, instead of her own. She blinked, her stepfather’s words coming back to her: I’ve gone it alone, and I’ve been in love. It makes a world of difference.

  “Brenna! I drew you a picture,” Morgan said. “It’s on your fridge. Wanna see?”

  They passed through the living room, where Geoff and Zoe were playing tug-of-war with a stuffed toy.

  “Ellie’s sleeping in the kitty den,” Morgan explained. “If she feels better tomorrow, will you play with her for us?”

  “Absolutely,” Brenna promised.

  They’d reached the kitchen, where Adam was popping open takeout containers and pouring food into bowls. The scene was so domestic that she felt she should kiss him on the cheek and ask him about his day. Platonic, she reminded herself. No kissing on the cheek or anywhere else.

  “We had a craving for Chinese,” he said. “Please tell me Mistletoe has decent mu shu pork.”

  “There is no bad food in Mistletoe,” she promised. “Well, except for a couple of ill-advised recipes I tried. But most of my dinner guests survived those and, with therapy and time, even went on to live normal lives.”

  Morgan wrinkled her nose. “You’re funny.”

  Choosing to take that as a compliment, Brenna glanced around. “Where’s Eliza?”

  Adam jerked his head toward the sunporch adjacent to the kitchen. Brenna moved closer for a better look through the window, sidestepping Morgan as the little girl rejoined Zoe and Geoff in the living room. Seated on a white-wicker padded bench, Eliza had River in her lap and was singing along mournfully to a tune from her iPod.

  “Ah. The continuing saga of boy troubles?” Brenna asked.

  “Yeah.” Adam leaned in to peer over her shoulder and check on his daughter. Brenna’s body heated at his nearness. He smelled like outdoors and sunshine. And he was close enough that she heard his breathing quicken.

  Maybe she should fill him in on the platonic plan.

  She ducked away from him, gesturing at the window. “You want me to go talk to her?”

  He gnawed at the inside of his cheek. “Can you talk to her about it without letting her know I told you anything?”

  She thought it over. “Can do.” Whether it would actually help was a different story, but it seemed like a fitting homage to Maggie and all the times she’d tried to bridge the natural gap between her and Brenna. Plus, it put space between Brenna and Adam.

  Even without those reasons, though, she admitted to herself that she probably would have felt compelled to reach out to the girl. Unexpectedly Adam Varner and his entire family were getting under Brenna’s skin in a remarkably short period. They were tugging at heartstrings normally reserved for litters of puppies and stray kittens in the rain.

  It was ironic that Dr. Varner helped people improve their heart function. Because the more time she spent in his company, the more erratically her heart seemed to behave.

  “HEY.” BECAUSE OF the iPod, Brenna spoke louder than she normally would. “Mind if I join you for a few minutes?”

  Sniffling, the girl averted her face. “It’s your house.”

  “That doesn’t really answer the question.” Brenna stood in front of the girl, scratching River under her chin. �
��Looks like you’ve made a new friend here.”

  It had been the wrong thing to say.

  “I don’t need new friends. I need my real ones, back home! They’re the people I want to talk to. Or even my mom. Do you know how gross it is to talk to a dad about boys?”

  “Can’t say that I do. I never got up the courage to try.” She wasn’t sure who it would have psychologically scarred more, her or Fred. The man loved her, no question of that, but when it came to “female matters,” he’d invariably punted her in Maggie’s direction. “It just seemed too awkward.”

  Eliza nodded repeatedly. “It is. Trust me. And what does he know, anyway?”

  “Cut him some slack, Eliza. Your dad’s an intelligent guy, and he cares about you.”

  “That doesn’t make him an expert on dating. He hasn’t had a girlfriend since my mom.”

  Really? Women in Knoxville don’t know what they’re missing. Of course, Brenna doubted he kept his children posted on the particulars of his love life, so it was possible he was more experienced than they realized. For instance, she was certain they didn’t know about that kiss the other night—and she planned to keep it that way.

  “What about you?” Eliza demanded suddenly. “You’re probably smarter about romance than him. Do you date often?”

  Brenna guffawed. “Even less than your dad, actually.”

  “But you’re pretty. And you have…” Eliza didn’t finish her sentence, but she glanced meaningfully in the vicinity of Brenna’s chest. “My friend Dee says that’s all a girl needs to attract a guy.”

  There were so many things wrong with that statement—not that it was completely without truth—Brenna didn’t know where to start. “Those guys aren’t really worth attracting.”

  “What kind are?”

  “Scoot over.” It would be a snug fit, but the bench could accommodate both of them. Since it looked as if Brenna might need a few minutes to come up with answers, she preferred to get off her feet. “Okay. Boys are a pain in the you-know-what.”

  Eliza giggled. Progress.

  “But some of them are at least worth the trouble. Hold out for one of those, one who respects you, who’s courteous. He should be honest with you and listen when you talk. He needs to recognize your boundaries and not push you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

  “I know this part,” Eliza said, rolling her eyes.

  “All right. Well, since you should also listen when he talks, it helps if you have some common interests. And if he’s funny.”

  The girl frowned. “Bobby likes to talk mostly about Camaros and himself. Hearing about him was interesting at first, but…”

  “Did he ever ask about you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Find a guy who does. But there’s no hurry,” she stipulated.

  That earned her another eye roll, but Eliza’s expression was much brighter than it had been. She set River aside and got to her feet. “Is dinner almost ready? I think I’m hungry.”

  Brenna figured that doing a victory dance would be inappropriate—or make her look like an idiot, at any rate—but the impulse was there. While she wasn’t naive enough to think that Eliza would go forth and never suffer boy troubles again, helping the adolescent past this hiccup was far more rewarding than she could have predicted.

  At the door leading back into the main house, Eliza paused. “What about you, Ms. Pierce? Is the reason you don’t date much because you’re still holding out? You haven’t found a guy who’s funny and respectful and a good listener?”

  Brenna blinked, surprised to find herself the topic of conversation again. “Oh. I’ve been lucky enough to find a couple of guys who fit that description, but none of them were quite…I don’t have that much time to date. I work a lot.”

  Eliza’s mouth thinned. “Like my father.” She clearly didn’t mean it as a compliment.

  “He does an important job.” She experienced an uncharacteristically self-conscious moment when she compared their occupations. Scooping kitty litter and sprinkling fish flakes into an aquarium sounded a bit less impressive.

  “People are important, too.” Eliza crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Maybe you aren’t as smart about relationships as I thought.”

  Chapter Ten

  Wanting to ensure that he didn’t undo everything his kids had learned about good manners in three weeks, Adam made it clear that they were responsible for the dishes this time. Of course, that only consisted of throwing empty containers in the garbage and scrubbing five plates.

  “Before we go, can we play with River and Zoe for just a few minutes?” Morgan begged. The three of them were endlessly entertained by the way the cat chased after toys just like the dog.

  He deferred to Brenna, glancing her way with raised eyebrows.

  “Ten minutes,” she said.

  Not wanting to waste any of that, the kids disappeared into the backyard with a stampede of footsteps and the back door banging shut.

  He’d been dying to know how her conversation with Eliza went—was the girl difficult with all adults, or was it just him?—but hadn’t been able to get specifics until now. “So—”

  “Do you want coffee?” Brenna asked brightly. “I could make us some coffee.”

  “Didn’t we just give the kids a ten-minute warning?” He was pretty sure they couldn’t brew and subsequently chug a hot beverage in that amount of time. Was this Brenna’s way of demonstrating that she was reluctant for their evening to end?

  “Right.” She cast rather desperate looks about her small kitchen. “It’s really too hot for coffee, anyway. What we need is something cold. Ice-cream floats?”

  “Brenna, are you trying to find something to do because you’re…nervous? About being alone with me?” If that was the case, should he be flattered or appalled? He didn’t want to scare her.

  She took a deep breath, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “You caught me. I am a little apprehensive that…”

  “That I might kiss you again?” Nice going, Varner. You’ve driven the woman to an anxiety attack.

  Brenna’s gaze collided with his. “No, that I might kiss you.”

  Her words, delivered with such artless sensuality, seared him. “I would be okay with that. Just so you know.”

  She laughed, but it had a hoarse, husky edge to it. “But would your kids be okay with it?”

  He wanted to say that they were irrelevant to the discussion at hand, but he was a father—his children were never irrelevant. And he guiltily recalled the questions he’d fielded on their very first day in Mistletoe, when he’d all but promised them he wouldn’t seek out any romantic connections while they were here. Fresh on the heels of Sara’s marriage, it was natural for the kids to be curious about his dating. Morgan already adored Brenna; it would be dangerous to encourage that. Eliza, on the other hand, was thawing toward him bit by bit and would no doubt freeze up in betrayed disapproval if he got too close to Brenna in their limited time together.

  And it would be limited. He hadn’t been able to retain a strong relationship with his own family who lived under the same roof as him. He didn’t delude himself that he was cut out for the rigors of a long-distance relationship. Not with his job and three children who deserved as much time as he could give them.

  Frustrated, he plowed a hand through his hair. “I wish things were different.”

  “Oh, you have no idea how many times I’ve had reason to think that.” She gave him a bittersweet smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you kissed me the other day. I just don’t think it’s a good idea…”

  “I agree.” In practice, if not in spirit.

  Silence descended on them.

  Brenna rocked back on her heels. “If we’re gonna spend the next five minutes in painful awkwardness, we might as well get comfortable. Want to join me in the living room?”

  They both sat on the same sofa, but curled up at opposite ends with an entire upholstere
d cushion separating them. Even the strictest chaperone would approve. Adam tried not to be depressed.

  “Did I tell you that I looked into that idea you had for Morgan’s party, at a salon? I even tested it by asking if she likes to have her nails done.”

  “And?”

  “She was practically giddy about the idea. There aren’t many places here in town, but I called all of them. The only stumbling block is that I can’t drop the girls off. One woman said she might accept a twelve-year-old being there alone, but no way would she be comfortable taking responsibility for two kids, especially when one is so young.”

  “You should go with them,” Brenna said.

  He couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not.

  “Ask for Linda at Beautiful Day,” Brenna added, wiggling her fingers. “She gives a great hand massage. I’m not suggesting you get sparkly decals—”

  He shot her a look that let her know what he thought of that possibility.

  “—but you could get your nails, I don’t know, buffed or something.”

  Eliza and Morgan would probably find that hysterically funny. It didn’t mesh with his original idea of making use of one-on-one time with Geoff, but why not? “I guess Geoff’s mature enough to read in the waiting area. Because there’s no way he’ll agree to participate.” Adam grinned, imagining how his teenager would react to such a suggestion.

  Tilting her head back, Brenna addressed the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this…What if I hired Geoff for the afternoon?”

  “What?”

  She shrugged. “He might have mentioned something about wanting to earn cash this summer. Take Morgan and Eliza out to a daddy-daughter lunch. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed about Geoff, it’s that he isn’t picky about food. He can eat a couple of hot dogs here. I’ll pay him for a few hours of filing and light office work while the girls get their mani-pedis.

  “And if you have to come back here to pick him up, anyway, we could have…” She covered her face with her hands, making the rest of her sentence difficult to decipher.

  “Sorry, I didn’t get that.”