Once, Chris tossed the ball to her as Cal ran for the base. She tagged him and Stoddard yelled out.
“You could have slid into base and made it,” she said, tossing the ball back to Chris.
“I might have slammed into my new bride,” he replied, brushing dust off her jaw.
“I think you’re deliberately trying to help the boys and me score points.”
“Is that a complaint?”
She laughed and shook her head.
“To get a smile like that, I’d gladly be thrown out. It was worth it, babe,” he added softly.
“Can we play ball?” Chris yelled and Cal walked away. Her heartbeat raced and she felt breathless from his com- pliment. Gone were the cold looks she had received from him in their first few encounters. All day long, his looks had held enough warmth to melt ice and now he was beginning to tease and flirt.
They played until it was too dark to see, and then Stod- dard told them good-night and left. Cal draped his arm across her shoulders casually.
“I’ll make some lemonade, guys,” she said, going to the house, aware how easy it was to fall into a relaxed relation- ship with Cal. He fit into their family like the last piece to a puzzle. And it scared her senseless because she didn’t want him to fit that well and then leave them in twelve months.
After the boys downed big glasses of iced lemonade, they went back outside to chase fireflies while she sat down next to Cal on the porch. His casual slouch was inviting, making him look like the man of the house, relaxed at home with his family, and she realized there would be far more pitfalls in this situation than she had guessed. He picked up her hand, holding it in his and her pulse jumped even though she knew there was no reason for it to.
“You’re having a strange wedding night—mind?”
She shook her head. “It’s a strange wedding.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re good with them, but I don’t think you’ve been giving much of any- thing to yourself.”
Don’t start wearing down my defenses with worries about me. It still shocked her how deadly dangerous this man could be to her well-being. She still had no illusions about what he would do at the end of the year.
“I’m happy. I love the boys,” she said, aware of Cal’s thumb idly rubbing her knuckles and wrist as if he needed to explore and learn the shape and textures of her hand. Tingles followed his slight touches, and she became more aware of what he was doing with his fingers than she was of their conversation.
“They’ll grow up and get their own lives and you’ll be left with nothing,” he said.
“Well, now, for a year I have no choice. I’m bound in a fake marriage—”
“A marriage of convenience. It’s real.”
“Not too real,” she snapped, turning to face him in ex- asperation. He was making all the right moves, doing what would shatter her defenses. “If it was real, we’d be alone and in bed.”
“We can change our status in a twinkling,” he said softly, studying her.
She pulled her hand away from his and ran it across her forehead. “You’re getting to me, Counselor.”
“Me?”
“Right. Don’t act as if you’re surprised. You’ve been sexy, considerate, appealing, great with the boys—”
“Holy Toledo,” he remarked, sitting up straight and scooting his chair closer.
“Stay where you are!” she snapped, scooting her chair farther away from him. “Just stay. And stop worrying about me and my love life. We have a marriage of conve- nience. I couldn’t date even if Mr. Wonderful appeared on the doorstep and I fell madly in love with him.” Her tone of voice changed as she finished her sentence and Cal studied her in the darkness.
“Do I hear the war drums beginning to beat again?”
“Are you working up to another offer about how we can liven up my life during this temporary union?”
He took her hand again and drew circles on her palm with his finger. The touch was electrifying and she tried to jerk her hand free, but his fingers tightened and he held her wrist.
“Calm down. I’m barely touching you,” he drawled. “And no, I’m not making suggestions, merely observa- tions. I want to keep things as platonic and uninvolved as you do, because when the year is up, I want to go back to my solitary life.”
She leaned closer to him, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. “Then why are you holding my hand?”
Releasing her hand, he settled back on his chair, stretch- ing out his long legs and propping his feet on the porch railing. “It meant nothing. It’s a nice night, you’re a beau- tiful, desirable woman and you’re sitting close beside me while we talk. Maybe it was habit,” he said dryly, and heard a soft laugh.
“That’s an honest answer, so you win more points,” she said while his words dazzled her…a beautiful, desirable woman… She was desirable to him? And beautiful?
“You told Quin he could bring Snookums outside, didn’t you?” she asked after a few minutes.
“Yes. We’re not going to lose that cat.”
“You know Elnora never let him outside. Tonight was the first.”
“Which was ridiculous. Quin kept him in his arms the entire time. And old Snooks was content.”
“That he was.” She stood. “I better call curfew. Josh and Quin should go to bed. When they do, Chris will.” She turned to go down the steps and in minutes the boys raced past with quick calls of good-night to him. Then she fol- lowed her nephews inside.
An hour later, she returned to the porch to sit down be- side Cal. He had moved their chairs closer together and the moment she was seated, he reached over to take her hand.
“Habit again?” she asked, trying to extricate herself.
He shook his head. “No. I’m thinking about what I’m doing. And it’s harmless. It won’t hurt to be friends.”
She started to point out that hand-holding went
