For Love Or Money. Tara Quinn Taylor
hit Burke in the gut. Those lips softened in an upward curve, the light in her vivid blue eyes held his gaze—even more than the figure her sweats didn’t disguise.
“Please come in.”
Embarrassed that she’d had to ask another time, Burke followed his daughter inside.
* * *
JANIE DIDN’T KNOW for sure what she’d been expecting. Probably nothing good, which was why she’d been in a tizzy all day long. But it certainly hadn’t been the way Kelsey’s blue-eyed gaze sought out Dawson and stayed with him. Almost to the point of rudeness. Except that the girl’s expression seemed to be filled with a compassion beyond her years.
“Dawson?”
The boy grunted when he heard Janie’s voice—his attention seemingly on the little figure racing around the screen. The music coming from the set gave a downward spiral, signaling a lost life, but Dawson pushed buttons and had the critter up and running within seconds.
“Dawson,” she said again, more firmly.
What, if anything, the boy paid attention to when he was enrapt with whatever was in front of him, no one knew at this point. But she knew he’d heard her.
And understood her, too.
He continued to play. Janie felt the heat creeping up into her cheeks and hated herself for it. Dawson was being Dawson.
And she’d be darned if she was going to start wanting him to be someone different. She, of all people. What was the matter with her?
What was it about this family that she felt the need to impress them?
Because she had to be good enough to best them on television?
Taking a deep breath, she felt calm come over her. And walked over to stand between Dawson and the television set. “Time to turn it off,” she told him, aware of the two people standing just a few feet away, still behind the couch that separated the foyer from the living room, and yet focused now on what mattered.
She could turn off the television herself. Dawson might just smile up at her and move. He might not. No matter, they had their ways of doing things and she was not going to do him the disservice of changing them.
Not for anyone.
“Gah!” Dawson blurted loudly, continuing to press the buttons on his controller.
She couldn’t see behind her, but recognized the sound when another life was lost.
“Time to turn it off,” she said again, her voice as patient as usual. The air in the room was cool and comfortable, light, as she stood there, remembering who she was. Who they were. Until it was just her and Dawson, alone in their own world.
“Dawson, time to turn it off,” she said again. As she would until he minded her. What part of his stubbornness came from lack of putting two and two together, and what part was typical rebellion, she didn’t know.
What she knew was that her son had to learn his boundaries and the only way he was going to learn was if she taught him.
She couldn’t do it for him. He had to do it for himself. Whether he wanted to or not.
“Dawson...”
“Kaaaayyy.” Dawson dropped the game console. Picked up the TV remote. Pushed the off button. And then sat, facing her knees, his arms folded across his chest.
She wanted to hug him. And looked at her guests instead.
“Come on in,” she said. “Have a seat.” She motioned toward the couch. And sat on the edge of the sheet-filled chair.
“Dawson, you want to show Kelsey and Burke your cars?” Realizing how familiar she sounded, she looked at the orthopedist. “He’s seen so many d-o-c-t-o-r-s in his lifetime that the word upsets him,” she said.
“You have cars?” Kelsey asked, sliding down to the floor and then, on her butt, scooting over to Dawson. “I used to have some cars,” she told him. “Until my mom took them away because she didn’t think they were good for little girls to play with. Can I see your cars?”
Dawson didn’t even look her way. But he got up, went to the hall closet and pulled open the door to reveal the shelves of neatly stacked toys and games. Taking out his case of cars, he brought it over and dropped it on the floor in front of Kelsey. He then went back and grabbed the plastic track that Joe had bought him—a one-piece circle that stood on end beneath the bottom shelf—and carried that back, too.
He half dropped, half tossed it at Kelsey. It hit her knee and, with a startled look at Janie, the girl backed up.
Dawson picked up the track again, brought it close to Kelsey and dropped it a second time, this time falling down in front of her.
“Gah!”
Janie waited. Holding her breath, mostly.
Dawson sat, cross-legged, hands in his lap.
Kelsey reached for the case of cars, looking between Dawson and Janie. “Can I see them?” she asked when no one reacted.
Dawson’s nod was short. Succinct. And Janie had to restrain herself from laughing out loud.
Her boy was a sucker for a pretty girl. Who’d have thought?
* * *
WHERE BURKE MIGHT have found himself eager to be finished with Sunday afternoon’s appointment and have dinner—preferably at the Italian place and not at home eating a pork recipe he’d prepared twice that day—instead, he sat in Janie Young’s living room, chatting up the beautiful woman like he was on a date.
The turning point had come when Dawson had suddenly stood from his cars, grabbed Kelsey’s hand and dragged her down the hall—off of which he counted three doors. Assuming one was a bathroom, that left two for bedrooms.
“Most of his toys are in his room,” Janie had said as she’d watched the pair depart.
Her smile was full-on now. And he wondered if he’d ever seen a woman who looked so attractive while doing absolutely nothing to help herself appear that way.
He scooted down to the end of her dark brown leather couch. “You don’t have to sit on the edge of your seat,” he told her. “I don’t bite.”
Her legs looked longer than he’d remembered as she got up and walked toward him—folding them under her as she settled on the other end of the couch.
“I won’t let him monopolize her for long,” she assured him. “But this couldn’t have gone better if she wanted to get to know him.”
“She’s a sensitive kid,” Burke said, lowering his voice, though he didn’t think Kelsey could hear him while talking at the same time. She’d been conversing with Dawson nonstop since they’d left the room, though he didn’t see how she could understand any of the boy’s grunts.
“She seems very sweet.” Janie’s gaze was direct. Not shy at all. Unusual for someone so soft-spoken.
He was curious about her. In so many ways.
He nodded. “In some ways she’s old beyond her years.”
“I just don’t understand why she’s so taken with my son. I mean, my world revolves around him, but other people usually have to get to know him before they appreciate him—”
When her voice broke off, Burke wanted to know where the words had led her—someplace she’d chosen to travel to alone. He wanted to know badly. Not just with the curious interest of a stranger.
The idea—him wanting access to the inner workings of her mind—bothered him. As did whatever compelled him to be honest with her.
“She’s convinced I’m going to win the show,” he told her. They were competitors. Contestants going after the same prize. He wasn’t going to