two of us?"
He shifted, embarrassed at how intimate he'd made it sound. "I mean, I want to talk about the kids."
"Oh. Right. The kids." Her head bobbed up and down. "But...Mick, I'm sorry, I have to get ready now for my date. I won't be here for dinner...or after."
"Ah. Yeah. Sure. Some other time." He felt like an idiot, because he was holding plates in his hands, ready to set the table for four. He'd forgotten about Kayla and her date.
She hurried out of the kitchen while he just stood there, his mind replaying her words. I won't be here for dinner...or after. She'd be with some other man for dinner...and after.
It couldn't be jealousy, he told himself, but God, the taste of something bitter and green stuck to his tongue. He served up the plates for himself and the kids, hoping that the chicken and rice would dissipate the god-awful taste.
The food smelled good enough.
The scent of it lingered in the kitchen as they ate and even as he cleaned up the dishes. But then a new note entered the atmosphere, one that drew him around immediately.
Kayla's perfume. And oh, God, there she was, in a silky short black dress, her hair gleaming against her shoulders. Her lashes were darker than usual, her mouth a soft and tender pink, and she was holding toward him a necklace of delicate links and a pearl pendant. "I hate to ask, but could you help me with this? I can't get it latched."
He took it from her, feeling as if the tendons in his joints had tightened to short steel cords. Without a word, he signaled for her to turn around, and she did, then held her fall of hair off her neck.
Her beautiful neck, the skin looking so sweet and delectable. Tempting. In a flash of lust, he saw himself putting his mouth against the thin flesh at its side and pressing against it a hot, sucking kiss.
Good God, he groaned silently. Yeah, he had it bad. Really bad.
So bad that as he breathed in her scent and felt the heat of her just inches from his hard, tense body, his clamoring need had him wondering if there wasn't another prescription altogether he should be considering for his sexual relief.
Already nervous about the evening's date, Kayla nearly jumped out of her skin when Mick's fingers brushed her neck. A wash of goose bumps paraded from her nape southward and she hoped he wouldn't notice the reaction. This was silly, right? She was determined to overcome these teenagerish, twitchy nerves.
But his warmth at her back didn't make it any less difficult. It was just too easy to imagine leaning against his chest, turning her head to take a kiss....
"Kayla?"
She made that turn she'd been picturing, she even found herself staring at his mouth. Heat washed over her as another band of goose bumps marched down her skin.
"Kayla, I..." He hesitated, his palm coming up to cradle her jaw.
The goose bumps took another lap. "You can say anything," she whispered to him, not even sure what she meant by the words. "Anything."
"What's it like going out on a date?"
At Jane's loud question, she and Mick jolted back from each other, his callused hand trailing for just a moment along her skin.
The young girl surveyed Kayla, then sighed. "You look so pretty."
"Thank you," Kayla said, managing a smile.
"So what's it like going out on a date?" Jane asked again.
Mick stepped forward. "Remember our agreement, little girl. Not until you're thirty-one."
His daughter didn't even pretend to believe him. "Daddy, you're silly. I'm talking to Kayla. I want to know what happens on a date."
"Uh..." Kayla shot Mick a glance.
He lifted his hands. "Don't look at me. The last date I had was so long ago I think I was still in the fire academy."
She frowned at him. "I seem to remember a certain someone meeting a certain someone else at a coffeehouse a few months back." Though she'd kicked herself for it, she'd been relieved when he'd freely admitted there'd been zero chemistry between himself and the lady.
He shrugged it off.
"So...?" Jane prompted.
Kayla pushed her hair over her shoulders. "It's like...like sitting next to someone new in the school lunchroom. You get a chance to listen to them talk, hear what's important to them - "
"I always look at what they eat," Jane put in. "The ones with the good mothers cut their sandwiches in triangles."
Kayla's heart squeezed. While Jane didn't have a mother in