Hank shook his head adamantly. “I’ve planned for your shopping trip. We’ll stop at the mall on the way home on Monday.”
“Monday? Hank, the kids have school on Monday. I have patients.”
“The kids do not have school. It’s the President’s Day holiday. As for you, you only had one appointment on your calendar and I was able to get the receptionist over at Dolphin Reach to rearrange it.”
“Dammit, Hank, you had no right,” she said, pulling away from him. He was taking over her life, managing it with the same precision that he brought to his building projects. She couldn’t allow it. “We’re going back on Sunday.”
“Annie, calm down. Why should we waste a day?”
He sounded incredibly patient. “Don’t you patronize me, you muscle-bound cretin,” she snapped back. “I will not calm down. And we’ll go back on Sunday because I say so.”
“Muscle-bound cretin? I like that,” he said, chuckling. “If you really want to insist on going back on Sunday and disappointing the kids, then we’ll go back on Sunday.”
The ease with which he twisted things around to make her the bad guy exasperated her. His refusal to take offense only infuriated her more. She was really spoiling for a good fight and he was turning agreeable on her. She’d hoped a royal battle would take away this tension that was building inside her. Maybe it would take her mind off her desire to be in Hank’s arms, in his bed.
“Damn you, Hank.”
He shook his head. “Tsk, tsk. There you go again. You’re swearing.”
“Oh, go to hell.”
“Annie, Annie, the children.”
“The kids are all in bed,” she mumbled, defeated by his teasing.
“And that makes it okay? I’m surprised at you, Annie.”
“You are the most impossible…”
“Lovable?”
“Impossible man I have ever met.”
“But you love me.”
“I do not love you.”
He pulled her into his lap and kissed her thoroughly. When she could gather her senses, she opened her eyes and met his satisfied smirk. “Liar,” he whispered softly, then claimed her lips again. This time she didn’t even pretend to struggle. She only sighed and whispered, mostly to herself, “If I am, then God help me.”
The Coconut Grove Art Festival was not an event Ann would have expected Hank to enjoy. In fact, she had thought that even she would find the traffic jams irritating, the huge crowds tiresome and the art little more than junk. She was wrong on all counts. First of all, they were able to walk from his house, avoiding the bumper-to-bumper lines of cars. Once there, Hank clung firmly to her hand and tugged her from one display to another with all the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store.
“Come on, Annie,” he urged more than once. “You have to see this.”
He pulled her to a booth filled with huge oil paintings. She studied the landscapes painted in the Everglades. They captured the barren vastness, but none of the majesty.
“Sorry. I don’t like them,” she said, keeping her voice low and turning away from the artist who sat nearby.
“Why not?”
“There’s no emotion in them. The Everglades are unique, special. In these paintings, they look ordinary.”
He stepped back and looked more closely. “You may have a point. You have a good eye.”
She opened her mouth, but he touched a finger to her lips. “Don’t you dare say you only know what you like.”
She laughed. “I was not going to say that. I was going to tell you that I used to write an art column for my college paper.”
“Oh,” he said meekly.
His humble deference lasted another thirty seconds before he was touting the virtues of another craftsman a few booths away. “Look at this jewelry. What do you think?”
“It’s lovely,” she said distractedly, barely looking at the bold silver pieces that she normally would have loved.
“You’re not even looking.”
“Where are the kids?”
“Across the street, three booths down.”
She looked in the direction in which he’d pointed. They were all there, every one of them. She counted just to be sure.
“I’m not going to let them get lost, Annie,” he said quietly, tilting her chin up so he could look directly into her eyes. “I promise.”
“Okay, so I get a little crazy.”
“You’re a mother.”
“Yes. I am.” She said it as though she was trying to make a point, but with Hank staring tenderly into her eyes, she lost track of the message she’d had in mind.
Just then they were joined by the kids. “Can we get some ice cream?” Paul pleaded.
“I want ’ade,” Melissa said.
Hank turned deliberately to Jason. “You know where the food booths are, son?”
“I saw ’em.”
“Then you make sure that everyone stays together,” he said, handing over some money. “Meet us on the corner in a half hour.”
Jason seemed startled by the gesture. Ann caught a fleeting look of pride in his eyes before he hid it behind his usual moody mask. “Come on, guys,” he said, sounding put-upon.
“I’m not sure that was such a good idea,” she said worriedly. “Shouldn’t we go with them?”
“Tracy’s with them, too, and he has to learn that we do trust him.”
“But you don’t,” she countered. “You’ve said all along that he was heading for trouble.”
“I know and I still think that’s possible, but we’ve got to do everything we can to head it off. I thought the job would help, but it hasn’t.”
“I think it has. He won’t let you see it, but he seems more self-confident. The responsibility has been good for him.”
“Annie, he’s not accepting the responsibility,” he blurted, then immediately looked as though he wished he could retract the words. Ann’s heart sank.
“At least not the way I’d hoped he would,” he amended hurriedly.
“What do you mean?”
Hank sighed. “Let’s talk about this later.”
“We’ll talk about it now.”
“Annie…”
She finally lost patience and snapped, “Hank, just tell me. What’s wrong?”
“He hasn’t been coming in to work.”
“Why on earth not? What does he say about it?”
“Ted says he’s had an excuse every time. Not terribly legitimate ones, but
