Mothers In A Million. Michelle Douglas
veggies on the table and was pulling the chicken off the grill.
“Grab a paper plate and help yourself.”
He glanced over. “The kids’ plates aren’t made yet.”
“I can do it.”
“I can help.”
With a little instruction from her about how much food to put on each, Wyatt helped prepare three plates of food for the kids. Owen sat beside him on the bench seat and Missy sat across from them with the girls.
It honest to God felt like high school all over again. Girls on one side. Boys on the other.
Little brown-eyed, blond Claire said, “We have a boys’ side and a girls’ side.”
Wyatt caught Missy’s gaze. “Is that good or bad?”
“I don’t know. We’ve never had another boy around.”
“Really?”
She shrugged and pretended great interest in cutting Helaina’s chicken.
Interesting. She hadn’t had another man around in years? Maybe if Wyatt worked this right, their relationship didn’t have to be platonic—
He stopped that thought. Shut it down. Getting involved with someone like Missy would be nothing but complicated. While having a platonic relationship would do them both good.
So the conversation centered around kid topics while they ate. Wyatt helped clean up. Then he announced that it was time to go back to his grandmother’s house.
“To hunt for hidden treasure,” he told Owen.
Owen’s head almost snapped off as he faced Missy. “Can I go look for hidden tweasure, too?”
“No. It’s bath time then story time then bedtime.”
Owen groused. But Wyatt had an answer for this, if only because he understood negotiating. Give the opposing party something they wanted and everybody would be happy.
He caught Owen by the shoulders and stooped to his height. “You need to get some rest if we’re going to build the high-rise skyscraper tomorrow.”
Owen’s eyes lit up as he realized Wyatt intended to play with him again the next day. He threw his arms around Wyatt’s neck, hugged him and raced off.
An odd tingling exploded in Wyatt’s chest. It was the first time in his life he’d been close enough to a child to get a hug. And the sensation was amazing. It made him feel strong, protective…wanted. But in a way he’d never felt before. His decision to be around this little family strengthened. He could help Owen, and being around Owen and Missy and the girls could help him remember he didn’t always need to get his own way.
It was win-win.
Missy sighed with contentment. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
With the kids so far ahead of her, she motioned to her back door. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get in there before they flood the bathroom.”
Wyatt laughed. “Got it.”
He walked to the hedge, pulled it aside and headed for his gram’s house. He went into her bedroom again and started pulling shoe boxes filled with God knew what out of her overstuffed closet. But after only fifteen minutes, he glanced out the big bedroom window and saw Missy had come out to her back porch. She wearily sat on one of the two outdoor chairs.
Wyatt stopped pulling shoe boxes out of his gram’s closet.
She looked exhausted. Claire had said they’d never had another man around, which probably meant Missy didn’t date. But looking at her right now, he had to wonder if she ever even took a break.
He sucked in a breath. If he really wanted to help her, he couldn’t just do the things he knew would help him get back his rational, calm, predivorce self. He had to do the things she needed.
And right now it looked as if she needed a drink.
He dropped the box, pulled two bottles of beer from the refrigerator and headed for the hedge. It rustled as he pushed it aside.
She didn’t notice him walking across the short expanse of yard to the back porch, so he called up the steps. “Hey, I saw you come out here. Mind if I join you?”
“No. Sure. That’d be great.”
He heard the hesitation in her voice, but decided that was just her exhaustion speaking.
He held up the two bottles of beer. “I didn’t come empty-handed.” He climbed the steps, offered her a beer and fell to the chair beside hers. “Your son could wear out a world-class athlete.”
She laughed. “He’s a good kid and he likes you. I really appreciate you spending time with him.” She took a swig of beer. “Wow. I haven’t had a beer in ages.”
Happiness rose in him. He had done something nice for her.
“A person has to have all her wits to care for three kids at once. One beer is fine. Two beers would probably put me to sleep.”
“Okay, good to know. This way I’ll limit you to one.” He eased back on the chair. “So tell me more about the cake business.”
She peeked at him and his heart turned over in his chest. In the dim light of her back porch, her gray-blue eyes sort of glowed. The long hair she kept in a ponytail while she worked currently fell to her back in a long, smooth wave. He didn’t dare glance down at her legs, because his intention was to keep this relationship platonic, and those legs could be his undoing.
“I love my business.” She said it slowly, carefully meeting his gaze. “But it’s a lot of work.”
He swallowed. Her eyes were just so damned pretty. “I’ll bet it is.”
“And what’s funny is I learned how to do most of it online.”
That made him laugh. “No kidding.”
He turned on his chair to face her, and suddenly their legs were precariously close. Nerves tingled through him. He desperately wanted to flirt with her. To feel the rush of attraction turn to arousal. To feel the rush of heat right before a first kiss.
Their gazes met and clung. Her tongue peeked out and moistened her lips.
The tingle dancing along his skin became a slow burn. Maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling this attraction?
She rose from her chair and walked to the edge of the porch, propping her butt on the railing, trying not to look as if she was running from him.
But she was.
She was attracted to him and he wasn’t having any luck hiding his attraction to her. This attraction was mutual, so why run?
“There are tons and tons of online videos of people creating beautiful one-of-a-kind cakes. If you have the basic know-how about cake baking, the decorating stuff can be learned.”
He rose from his seat, too. He absolutely, positively wanted to help her with Owen, but a platonic relationship wouldn’t get him over his bad divorce as well as a new romance could. And from the looks of things, she could use a little romance in her life, too. Even one that ended. Good memories could be a powerful way to get a person from one difficult day to the next.
He ambled over beside her. Edged his hip onto the railing. “So you baked a lot of trial cakes?”
She laughed nervously. “I probably should have. But I worked with a woman whose sister was getting married, and when she heard I was learning to bake wedding cakes she asked if I’d bake one for the wedding.” Missy caught his gaze, her blue-gray eyes filled with heat. Her breath stuttered out.
He smiled. In high school he’d have given anything to make her breath stutter like that. And now that he had, he couldn’t just ignore it. Particularly