Adam enjoyed watching Lynn as she struggled to keep left foot on yellow, right on blue, and her hands on two different colors. Her hair was a glorious tousle that tumbled to the mat and exposed a pale, delicate nape. Her cheeks were flushed with laughter, her eyes bright.
He was happy, Adam realized in some astonishment. He and Rose had good times, but it wasn’t the same. He liked being here, or having Lynn—and Shelly, of course—staying at his place. He wished they could do it more often. He was amazingly comfortable with Lynn. As far as he was concerned, she could just move in with Shelly...
Bang. He might as well have walked into a sliding glass door. Dazed, head pounding, Adam saw the answer to everything through the clarity of the glass.
A marriage of convenience. Miraculous convenience. They could share the girls, each have a legal claim on the other one. The grandparent problem would be solved. He could help Shelly and Lynn financially. He didn’t have to miss them. Rose and Shelly would be sisters in truth.
He hardly saw Lynn fall amid giggles, leaving Grandma triumphant but needing a hand to straighten up and unkink her back. Adam was too busy examining his incredible idea.
Yeah, okay, he argued with himself out of habit, he wasn’t in love with her. Presumably she wasn’t with him. But he wasn’t seeing anyone else, and he hadn’t heard even a hint that she was. He liked her. They could talk about things he usually stayed closemouthed about, and he had an idea she felt the same about him. And of course, they had something profound in common: their daughters.
He wasn’t looking for a love match. Once was enough. But he missed having a woman in his life. He’d been disconcerted by his attraction to Lynn, but what had formerly been a problem now was a bonus. Despite the peculiar beginning, they might make a comfortable, affectionate marriage out of it. It didn’t have to be temporary. He could see himself growing old with her.
Assuming she saw the logic of his proposal.
Proposal, he thought in astonishment. Did he mean it?
"Is something wrong?"
Adam swung his head around sharply enough to crack a vertebra. Lynn had sat down on the couch beside him and was gazing at him with soft concern.
"Wrong?" he croaked. "No. Nothing’s wrong." It was right. He wanted to shout and seize her hand. Go to his knees.
Now? Her parents were making leaving motions. He could let her tuck the girls into bed, and then ask.
But he wasn’t a man of impulse. No. Wait until the chill gray light of morning and see whether his idea seemed as brilliant. Maybe he’d be dying to escape back to his big solitary house after a look at Lynn in her bathrobe before a cup of coffee.
Of course, he’d seen her that way before, and she’d looked cute.
Wait. Don’t be an idiot, he told himself. Be sure before you jump.
Morning was soon enough.
* * *
ADAM AWAKENED at the crack of dawn after another wretched, chivalrous night on Lynn’s too-short couch. His head pounded, his mouth was dry, and his joints ached. He dreaded the drive home.
Christmas was gone, and with it his cheer.
He couldn’t stand under the hot spray in a shower, because that might wake everyone else up. Disgruntled, he rooted in his overnight bag and got dressed in clean clothes. After gulping a couple of painkillers in the bathroom, Adam went to the kitchen, put water on to boil and dumped two teaspoons of instant coffee into a mug. Then he braced his hands on the edge of the counter and stared at the kettle, waiting for steam and gurgling.
What if she walked into the kitchen right now? Smiled shyly, offered to make breakfast? Adam asked himself. Would he be annoyed, or feel his mood lift?
The kettle stayed still. The force of his stare didn’t heat the water.
His thoughts stumbled back into a rut worn by a night’s worth of brooding.
Was he insane to think of marrying a woman he didn’t love, didn’t even know all that well except as the mother of his three-year-old daughter?
No.
The answer stayed the same. It made sense. So much sense, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of the possibility before. He wondered if Lynn had.
Maybe it would have occurred to him before if he didn’t find the idea of a temporary marriage abhorrent. He was old-fashioned in believing that a wedding vow should be kept. No matter