This Kiss. Teresa Southwick
Ben? I told you she was coming today. She’s a doctor. Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Mom.” Hannah went into the arms her mother held out. Now she was home. It was several moments before they had hugged their fill and stood side by side, arms around each other’s waists. Hannah noticed Ben was still watching her.
The boy’s eyes grew wide. “Do you give people shots?”
“Sometimes. But only if it will help them feel better.”
He rested a small arm around his father’s strong neck and gave Dev’s shoulder a couple of pats. “I don’t like shots.”
“Me either,” Hannah agreed.
“Me either,” Polly said.
Pleasure swept through her again, feeling her mother beside her. She’d been a teenager when Hannah was born and was still a young, attractive woman. People often said they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter—the same blue eyes and blond hair. Hannah had always been grateful that she didn’t take after her father.
For a moment, she rested her cheek against her mom’s. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you.”
“You’re too busy to miss me,” Polly answered, chuckling, “but it’s sweet of you to say so. You’re a sight for sore eyes. But too thin.”
As if on cue, Ben announced, “I’m hungry. Is it time for an afternoon snack yet? Aren’t you hungry, Daddy?”
“I am,” he agreed, meeting Hannah’s gaze. “How about you? You’ve had a long trip.”
“Starved.” She stared at his mouth, the fine chiseled shape. Before she could stop the thought, she wondered what it would be like to kiss Dev Hart. It was an absurd idea, but she couldn’t help thinking about what those smiling lips would feel like pressed against her own. She shook her head to chase away the image. “Thirsty, too,” she added.
She must be dehydrated from standing in the hot Texas sun too long. It was the only explanation for her wayward thoughts concerning the man’s mouth.
“Then let’s go,” he said. He easily lifted his son to his broad shoulders and started up the gentle rise to the house.
Hannah and her mother exchanged small talk as they walked arm in arm behind Dev. Hannah admired the long, easy stride of the man. The obvious close bond between father and son warmed her heart. She was curious about the woman Dev had married. And what had happened between the two that had left him alone raising his son.
A few minutes later they climbed up the steps of Dev’s imposing, two-story, white clapboard house with wraparound porch and overhang. The roofline was an interesting array of peaks, with a circular turret and balcony in front. She counted two chimneys that she could see and lots of decorative wood adorning the railing.
Her mother led the way into a large foyer with living room on one side, dining room on the other, each decorated with crown moulding and chair rails. Their footsteps rang on the distressed oak floor as they continued down the hall. Entering an enormous kitchen, she glanced around, noting the new-looking appliances, hunter-green granite countertops and cooktop range with oven below and built-in microwave above. Right across from it was a ceramic-tiled island with an overhang on the other side where four oak stools sat.
On the far side of the room in a nook complete with window seat, stood an oak table with ten matching ladderback chairs. Tasteful paper in a floral pattern hung on the bottom half of the walls while light beige paint contrasted beautifully with the white chair rail and decorative mouldings on the top half.
“This is charming,” Hannah said, looking around in awe.
“Thanks. My folks redecorated about a year ago.” Dev lifted Ben from his shoulders. “Go wash up, son.”
“I already did, Dad.”
“How long ago?” Dev rested his hands on lean hips as his son looked up at him with a slightly guilty look.
“In town,” Ben answered vaguely.
“About four hours ago,” Polly confirmed.
“Quit stalling, squirt.”
“Okay,” he grumbled, then disappeared down another hall.
“He’s going to need some help reaching the sink,” Polly said, as she set out cookies, milk, fruit and iced tea. “I’d send his father,” she commented, giving the hunk hovering nearby a phony stern look, “but nine times out of ten more water winds up on the walls and floor than on their hands and faces.”
“I’ll go,” Hannah offered. “I need to wash up, too.”
“It’s down that hall,” Dev said. “If you see the utility room, you’ve gone too far.”
“Thanks,” she answered, and headed off after his son.
She found the room and saw Ben reaching without success to turn on the light. “Need some help, pal?”
“No.” Ben shook his head. Then he looked at her and she realized how much he resembled his father. “Maybe a little.”
She laughed and flipped the switch up with her thumb. The room was charming and functional. It had the same wood floor as the rest of the first story of the house. But the walls from top to bottom were covered with a tiny floral-print wallpaper, containing the same shades she’d seen in the kitchen. Wooden signs enhanced the country decor. The first that caught her eye read, So It Ain’t Home Sweet Home. Adjust! Another advised, Thou Shalt Not Whine.
She smiled, then looked down at the small boy on tiptoe squirming this way and that to reach the spigot and soap pump. “Let me help,” she said, squirting some into his grubby little hand and turning on the water. Lifting him with one arm around his middle, she used her free hand to wet his palms and rub the bubbles around as she chattered. “Your dad told me you’ll be four next week. I bet you’ll be able to reach the light switch then.”
He met her gaze in the mirror and grinned. “Yes, I will.”
“You’re a pretty big guy.”
He nodded and a lock of brown hair the same color as Dev’s fell over his forehead. “When I’m four, Daddy’s going to give me a horse.”
“Wow. You’re pretty brave. I’m afraid of horses.”
“Daddy’s going to teach me to ride. If he showed you how, you wouldn’t be a scaredy cat.”
Hannah was so taken with his utter confidence in Dev that she almost didn’t mind the scaredy cat remark. Having never known that feeling toward her own father, she couldn’t help envying the boy.
“If your dad put me on a horse, I’m not so sure I wouldn’t be scared,” she said. But she wasn’t talking about the horse part.
“How about we find out?”
Dev’s deep voice surprised her at the same time it raised goose bumps on her arms. She’d been so wrapped up in hand-washing and wondering about the things Ben’s daddy could show her, she hadn’t noticed the dad in question in the doorway behind her.
“Find out what?” she asked, setting the child down and giving him the hand towel.
“Let’s see if Ben’s right and I can teach you not to be scared—on a horse.”
“Daddy can help you,” Ben said with absolute confidence.
“How about tomorrow morning?” Dev suggested, leaning against the doorjamb. “Before it gets hot.”
It could be ten degrees below zero and if he was nearby she would be hot, Hannah thought. If she said no, she’d look like the world’s biggest coward to a four-year-old. And she wasn’t too keen on Dev thinking that of her either.
“Okay,” she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. She looked in the mirror, adjusting her