Hard to Resist - By Kara Lennox Page 0,24

and departed. His wife gave Ethan an apologetic half smile and followed him. Soon everyone was gone except for Ethan, his mom and Tony.

“They’re a strange bunch,” Gloria Basque commented. “They seemed eager enough to work, but they were a little…reserved. Even the pizza didn’t loosen them up. Are these the men you work with?”

“’Fraid so,” Tony said. “They’re a tough crowd. Generous, but hard to impress.”

“Yeah, well, the only ones I’m out to impress are Kat and Samantha,” Ethan said.

His mother smiled. “Oh, I wish I could be here to see their faces. But I really need to go. It’s my poker night.”

“We should send Priscilla to play poker with you,” Ethan muttered. “She’d get over that beginner’s luck in a hurry.”

His mom paused and looked around one more time at their decorating job. “It’s really nice what you’re doing for her, Ethan. She’s a lucky lady.”

“Hmph,” Tony objected.

Ethan’s hackles rose, but he waited until his mom was gone before he said anything. “What was that ‘hmph’ supposed to mean?”

“Just that I wouldn’t call your motives entirely altruistic. I mean, you are hoping to charm her with all this,” Tony said, gesturing to indicate the makeover. “Right?”

“No. I’m helping her out because she needs help. Period.”

Tony crossed his arms. “And I suppose if she was old and fat and ugly, you’d still spend your entire paycheck on new appliances?”

Ethan opened his mouth, intending to voice a resounding yes, that the fact Kat was gorgeous had nothing to do with his altruistic activities. But he stopped.

Was he only being helpful because he wanted to be with her? Was he using her bad luck as a way to ingratiate himself?

“You know it’s true,” Tony said. “Every girlfriend you’ve ever had was someone you had to rescue or fix.”

“That’s not…” But again, Ethan stopped. He thought back over the girls and women he’d dated—not all that many—and he couldn’t think of a single one who’d been in a good place when he’d first been attracted to her. They’d all been in need of money or a job or a place to live or on crutches—or they’d been deeply depressed after being dumped by some other guy.

The downside was, after he helped them get back on track, they usually drifted off.

Did he have some kind of rescue complex?

Certainly, he’d helped out a lot of people who weren’t potential girlfriends. Whenever his mom called him wanting some handyman work for a friend or neighbor in need, he jumped right in without question, and didn’t expect anything in return except the satisfaction of doing a good job and a good deed.

Seeing that he’d hit home, Tony didn’t belabor the point. He left, taking a load of trash with him.

Ethan was glad they’d all left. He wanted to have Kat’s reaction to her much improved apartment all to himself.

Of course, he couldn’t stay here to wait for her. As far as he knew, Samantha still didn’t know who her landlord was, and he didn’t want to surprise or upset the child with his unexpected presence.

* * *

SAMANTHA SEEMED TIRED after her first day back at school. She threw her backpack into the backseat, climbed into the front with a big sigh and buckled her seatbelt.

Where was the chattering magpie who jumped into the car every day full of stories about her day’s adventures?

Kat gave her daughter a hug, then put the car into gear. “So, how was it?” she asked. “Did Mrs. Campbell help you with the work you missed on Friday?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t miss much.”

“That’s good.” At least Kat didn’t have to worry about Samantha’s academics. She’d learned to read when she was five and now she was at the top of her class. “What was the best thing that happened today?” This was a daily ritual they went through after school. Each of them had to tell the other about at least one positive experience.

“Nothing good happened.”

Not an encouraging sign. “Did anything bad happen?”

Samantha sighed again. “Everyone was talking about the fire. They saw it on the news. They kept asking me to talk about it.”

Oh, dear. “And did you?”

“No. I don’t even remember what happened.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t want to remember,” she amended. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”

“They’re just curious, honey. Most people have never been through a fire, and they want to know what it’s like. But you don’t have to talk about it—or even think about it—if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Okay. All you have to do is