feared the forbidden topic would act as a clot in the conversation, but somehow it didn’t. Next thing he knew the kids were comparing teachers, with Molly throwing in an occasional dry comment or raised eyebrow that kept Trevor and Cait one step inside the lines. Richard himself stayed mostly silent, but inwardly he rejoiced. He hadn’t seen Trevor this animated since a year ago summer. Caitlyn really was a beauty when she smiled and teased. He could understand the fascination, because it was her mother he kept watching, although he hoped not too obviously.
Instead of her daughter’s delicacy, she had a lush, earth-mother thing going. Dark wings of brows, hair of that rich auburn, determined to curl whatever she did to it. A mouth that was wide and generous when she was relaxed. And that skin—damn, that skin. Cream, was all he could think.
Cait’s was different, more of a porcelain that went with her almost-blond hair and blue eyes. Molly’s begged to be touched, as his itching fingers attested. He’d give one hell of a lot to see her naked, with those plump breasts and luscious hips and long, long legs....
He tuned in to realize he’d missed something. Dessert, it turned out. Molly was asking who wanted their apple pie à la mode.
“You have to ask?” he said, and she flashed a grin at him.
He pushed back his chair. “Hey, I’ll give you a hand. Uh, do you have milk? Apple pie. How can I eat it without milk? Trev? Cait?”
They both voted yes.
In the kitchen, Richard murmured in Molly’s ear. “You’re a genius.”
Her smile was so close he could have kissed it. Wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss her when she was smiling.
Thank God she wasn’t looking at him. “Will you get the ice cream out of the freezer?” she asked, as she wielded the knife on a beautiful, obviously home-baked pie.
She let him dig out scoopfuls of ice cream to crown each slice of pie. Only when she handed him the first two plates to carry to the table did she murmur in turn, “I am, aren’t I?”
He was grinning when he set plates in front of Trevor and Cait. His son studied him with suspicion, but was easily distracted by food.
“This is awesome,” he exclaimed, after his first bite.
“I baked it,” Cait said shyly, earning a look of pure admiration from him.
“Really? My sister won’t bake at all because she’s always on a diet.”
Richard hadn’t known that. One more thing he didn’t know. “Why?” he asked. “Has she put on weight?”
Trevor shook his head. “She looks okay to me. She says she’d be fat if she wasn’t careful.”
Cait set down her fork.
“She’s not athletic,” he told her. “And she doesn’t dance or anything like you do. You’d be too skinny if you ate nothing more than a few green leaves like she does.”
Trevor could be accused of sensitivity. Did I raise a good kid after all? Reality check. Yeah, maybe not me. Maybe Alexa.
Richard backtracked. “Green leaves?”
“Don’t freak, Dad.”
“Is she starving herself?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes she pigs out.”
“Tell me she’s not bulimic.”
His son stared at him. “How do you know about things like that?”
“I read the paper. I watch TV.”
“No, she’s not bulimic. She doesn’t, like, stick her finger down her throat or anything.” He frowned. “At least, I don’t think so. She just worries every time she has something like pizza and eats nothing but salad the next day.”
Richard sat back, less than reassured. “Are there many girls at the high school with eating disorders?” he asked Molly.
“I don’t always know,” she said. “I’m aware of a couple.”
“There’s more than that,” Cait contributed. “Mostly they’re not that bad.”
“Will you tell me if they get that bad?”
Cait flicked a glance at Trevor. “Maybe. Probably. I mean, if I think they’re killing themselves.”
Her mother sighed. “Okay.”
Cait had only finished half her dessert when she set down her fork. “You want the rest?” she said, seeing Trevor’s avid gaze.
“Really? You’re done?”
Assured that she was, he inhaled it.
“You want to go upstairs?” Cait asked.
Richard could imagine how Molly felt about that. By all means, let the two close themselves in the girl’s bedroom. But she only looked at him. “Coffee?”
“Sure.”
He helped her clear the table, then while she was filling two mugs nodded toward the ceiling. “You don’t mind?”
“Barn door? Anyway, I think the last thing they’re going to do with us in the house is have wild sex. So no. I don’t mind.”
“They were both