I don't want anything, so don't waste any of your smooth, practiced lines on me.'
'I promise.' He made an X over his chest, then stared down at her. 'You have the most beautiful eyes.'
'I thought you just promised you weren't going to try any of your lines on me.'
'It's not a line, it's the truth. Green is one of my favorite colors.'
She stared up at him, immobilized. She told herself to run. This wasn't happening, and if it was, it was happening too fast. She couldn't get involved with Kyle Haynes. He would use her and dump her. He was irresponsible, immature. She didn't need any more children in her life.
But the feelings he aroused in her were far from maternal. She felt trapped by the heat of his gaze. Or maybe it was her own stupidity that kept her standing so close to him, staring into his dark eyes and praying he would just kiss her and get it over with.
'Kyle, this is a mistake,' she said desperately as his head lowered toward hers.
'Tell me about it. But I've been waiting sixteen damn years for this, so either run or pucker up.'
Chapter 4
'Sixteenyears?' Sandy asked, staring at him. He couldn't have meant what he'd said. Kyle had been waiting to kiss
'It's not important.'
Nothing in his expression gave away what he was thinking. His mouth was still impossibly tempting, his gaze steady. She must have misunderstood him. But for a brief moment, she desperately wished it had been true. That Kyle had thought of her and longed for her all this time.
Get a grip on reality, she told herself. Kyle had no more spent the last sixteen years missing her than pigs had suddenly sprouted wings and taken flight.
So why was he staring at her so intently? And why were they still standing close enough for their bodies to generate the heat required to start a bonfire?
She told herself she was a fool, but that wasn't new information. She'd suspected it for a long time. She continued to stare at his face, then lowered her gaze to his mouth. With every bit of energy she could summon, she willed him to kiss her.
He bent forward, lowering his head until their lips nearly brushed. She could inhale the masculine scent of him, feel his sweet breath on her cheek. She could almost-
'Mommy, can we go get some ice cream?'
Nichole's voice cut through the silence in the kitchen. Sandy stepped back at the exact moment Kyle shook his head and straightened. She glanced over her shoulder, but the doorway to the living room was empty. Nichole hadn't seen anything.
'Ah, sure, honey,' Sandy called.
She walked around Kyle and stepped into the other room. All three children were sitting on the floor facing the television. They didn't know what had almost happened. Relief swept through her, leaving her a little shaky. At least she told herself it was relief. The tremors in her legs couldn't possibly be the result of her having just been so close to Kyle.
'Let's go now,' she said.
Lindsay glanced up at her. 'The movie isn't over yet.'
'I know, but you can finish it another time. It's getting late, and Kyle needs his rest. He was up working all last night.'
Lindsay grumbled something under her breath, then stood up. Blake joined her without saying a word. Nichole turned off the video and the television, then bounced to her feet. 'I want chocolate ice cream.'
'No problem,' Sandy said. She pushed the children through the kitchen, barely stopping long enough to thank Kyle for his help that day. Once outside, she took a deep breath and sent off a brief prayer of thanks that nothing had happened. If she was this nervous and shaky after
Sandy was avoiding him. Kyle dipped the brush into the can of paint, then wiped off the excess. There was no denying the truth. If he walked into a room, she walked out. Aside from mumbling a greeting to him that morning, she hadn't said a word to him. Not even to ask him how he liked his coffee. She must have asked Travis, because shortly after he'd started work, she'd silently handed him a cup, then disappeared before he could say anything. He'd taken a sip of the steaming liquid. Black, two sugars. Yup, she was avoiding him.
He glanced around the bedroom he was painting. He was about finished with the windows and the trim. Next, he would use a roller on the walls. Conversation and bits of laughter drifted up from downstairs. He knew Travis was still working down there, as were Sandy and her kids. Austin was up here with him, but in another bedroom. Kyle didn't mind the quiet, but it gave him too much time to think. About Sandy and about last night.
He shouldn't have tried to kiss her. He wouldn't have except she'd been looking at him the way a woman looks at a man she's attracted to. He was familiar with the look. He'd been getting it from women since he'd turned sixteen. It had never been anything but a convenience before. Yet last night he'd been glad Sandy was attracted to him. He'd wanted to kiss her, even knowing her kids were in the other room. Not his brightest idea. From what he remembered-and it didn't look as if she'd changed all that much-Sandy wasn't the type to fool around. Besides, she'd only been back a week. What did he really know about her?
Kyle pushed open the window, then painted over the smudge mark his fingers had made. A breeze blew into the room, chasing out the paint fumes. He set his brush on the newspaper that covered the floor and poured some paint into a tray. After screwing the extension into the roller, he started painting the ceiling.
The smooth back-and-forth movements relaxed him and freed his mind to wander. Last night, Sandy had filled his senses. Even after she'd left his house, he'd been able to inhale the scent of her body and feel her close to him. There was something about her that got to him. In sixteen years, that hadn't changed. He still remembered the first time he'd seen her. Jordan had brought her home one day after school. Kyle had been sitting at the kitchen table working on his algebra homework. The door had opened and the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen had walked into his life.
It had been spring, and warmer than usual. She'd been wearing a green dress, the exact color of her eyes. Even now, he could remember every detail about that moment. The way she'd hesitated before stepping into the kitchen, the brush of her light brown hair against her shoulders, the curiosity shining from her eyes, the way the neckline of her dress had dipped slightly, exposing nothing, but making him think about her body. He had reacted to his thoughts in a painful and embarrassing way. When he'd wanted to politely stand and greet her, he'd had to stay seated.
She'd carried her books in her arm. His brother had been holding her other hand. Kyle remembered staring at their joined hands and feeling as if he'd been punched in the stomach. The most beautiful girl in the world belonged to his brother. It was hopeless. Then she'd smiled at him. A warm, wide smile that had made him forget to breathe. After that, he hadn't cared about anything but her.
He was sure Jordan had introduced them, although he couldn't remember the conversation. He'd recognized her name. She was known as 'a brain.' Sensible Sandy. Travis had teased Jordan about dating her, asking if she organized his kisses the way she organized everything else. Kyle hadn't paid attention to the good-natured ribbing. He'd never understood his brother's interest in girls. Until that day.
He dipped the roller in the tray, then continued working on the ceiling. It had all happened a long time ago, yet that afternoon had been one of those significant moments that had changed his life. He'd never looked at girls the same. He'd started returning some of the teasing smiles sent his way. He'd stolen his first kiss, his first embrace, had wished for his first lover, although that hadn't happened for a few more years. But through it all, he'd dreamed of Sandy.
All this time later, he still wasn't sure what it was about her that got to him. To him, she was beautiful, but he knew most people didn't share his opinion. Her strength and intelligence had scared off lots of guys. He'd wanted to tell her it didn't scare him; he'd admired her. But she wouldn't have cared. He was two years younger than her. Now it didn't matter, but when she'd been sixteen and he'd been fourteen, those two years had seemed like an uncrossable barrier. When he'd finally gathered the courage to speak to her, she'd been friendly but not interested.
