Almost Perfect (30 page)

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Authors: Patricia Rice

BOOK: Almost Perfect
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He shot the finished strips off via e-mail attachment while the kids were scarfing down greasy hamburgers.
Cleo sent Marta back to eat while she handled the afternoon crowd. They'd called in extra workers who wandered in and out, awed by Jared's presence but careful not to intrude, especially since they'd have to crawl over Gene's sprawled figure to see what he was doing. Jared considered writing off the palm notebook as a business expense for the guard duty it provided and pretty much ignored the gawkers. He had a script to put together. Two, actually. The one he'd promised and the one he really, really wanted to do but doubted anyone would let him. He made notes on both faster than he'd worked in months. Years, probably.

By the time Cleo finally took a break, he was starving, the pizza box was empty, and his hamburger was cold. She dropped her sack of food from the corner restaurant on the desk, and Jared pulled her down on his lap and blew in her ear. She almost came up off the chair.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, aware Gene scowled and scuttled out of the room.

“What did the sheriff say?” she demanded in low tones.

“Billy-Bob should be gone by the time we return. They'll be okay for now. Monday will be the day of reckoning with Linda.”

She relaxed enough to bury her face in his shoulder for half a second, before steeling herself and pushing away. “Maybe I should arrange to be far, far away.”

“I can do that. Want to go to New York with me? I've got an apartment to clean out.”

She stiffened, and he knew his delirium had pushed him too far.

“You'd better see if you have a place to move your stuff to,” she warned, before standing up and walking out again.

Oh, shit. Jared glared at the unimaginative bucky ball
rolling across Cleo's computer screen. The roads had been too dangerous for them to check on the beach house before they left for town, but chances were pretty much guaranteed it would be unsafe for habitation.

And Cleo wasn't planning on him moving in with her.

By the end of the day the kids grew bored with their confines. Gene wandered out to the shop, ostensibly to help Cleo, and Kismet switched to puzzling out Gene's new toy. Jared figured he'd done his baby-sitting duty for the day and let the boy go. Kismet was a much quieter companion while he finished his script notes. Another few days working like this, and he'd almost be home free. Nothing like a deadline and looming bankruptcy to push a man to his limits.

Or a romance going down the drain. Thinking about anything else was preferable.

About the time his mind started straying to his solitaire program and wondering if the palm computer had one, Gene bounced back in, beaming with mischief. “There's a big RV blocking all the parking out there.”

“So, maybe they needed duct tape to refinish their plastic cabinets.” Jared hit the “close” switch of the word-processing program. His brain couldn't take any more of this. He'd do push-ups, but there wasn't room.
Maybe he could jog up and down Main Street. He had to blow off this steam or explode.

“Nah, those people park them things out at the campground and bike in or something. This gotta be somebody
big
. You ain't expectin' no one?” he asked in disappointment.

“Sorry to disappoint, kid, but I don't know a soul who's even seen the inside of an RV.” He shoved back Cleo's ugly little desk chair and stood, rubbing his aching back muscles. He was as bad as Gene. An RV on that tiny street outside would be an entertaining sight.

“Maybe it's them movie people they been talking 'bout,” Gene whispered in awe, heading for the store again.

Kismet didn't even look up as they wandered out. Jared glanced down as he passed her and noticed she'd already figured out how to find Internet chat rooms. The girl wasn't dumb by a long shot.

The crowd in the store had dwindled to a couple at the cash register. The extra help had either gone home or were in the process of returning misplaced stock to the shelves.

Jared automatically sought Cleo in the cluster at the counter. A boy sat beside the register, holding a cat as large as he was and chattering away, to the amusement of the customers. Jared heard Gene's muttered “oh, shit” before he could see past all the heads to Cleo. The moment he saw her expression, though, he knew who the boy was—Matty. Cleo radiated happiness as surely as the sun shone in the sky.

Soaking up that image of Cleo's bliss, Jared longed to be the one who could make her that relaxed and happy and open. He could see the woman she should be—if only he could offer her the same kind of unconditional love and safety as her child.

Pushing down the pain of recognizing his deficiency, he fell victim to the pressure of someone staring at him. Scanning the store, he located the source easily.

A blond giant wearing a toddler on his shoulders watched him with amusement. At his side stood a slender woman with abundant red hair accented by a silver streak, with eyes more blue than Cleo's green. Her critical gaze warmed as he approached, and she relaxed to stroke the hair of a child about Matty's age hiding behind her exotically colored dress. The boy's dark coloring was closer to Gene's than the couple's, and Jared grinned. If this was the boy Cleo's sister had adopted, Cleo and Maya had far more in common than Cleo believed. Both women were apparently color-blind, and possessed a penchant for taking in unwanted strays.

Navigating around the high store shelves, he didn't notice the woman's pregnancy until he was almost upon her. Another pain twisted below his heart, and he tried not to glance in the direction of Matty and Cleo. Children weren't something he'd ever thought about until Cleo crashed into his life. Or he'd crashed into hers. It didn't take a genius to recognize the reason for Cleo's envy of her sister.

“You must be Maya and Axell.” He stuck out his hand. “I'm Jared McCloud. My agent thanks you profusely for the helicopter.”

Balancing the red-haired toddler bouncing on his shoulders, Axell shook his hand firmly. “But you're reserving judgment?” he finished what Jared left unsaid. “You'll understand it was either the news helicopter or Maya would have driven to the water's edge and highjacked a boat.”

Maya dug her elbow into her husband's side, then held out her hand to take Jared's. “Matty was worried,” she said with tranquillity.

Jared dared a glance back to the counter. Cleo was finishing up her sale and chucking the back of her son's head for something he said. “I've never seen her happier. You chose the right moment to bring him.”

Before they could question him, a thin girl only a few years older than Matty who'd been examining the paint chips drifted over, and Axell introduced his daughter, Constance.

Maya couldn't possibly be old enough to have a daughter that age, but she hugged the child as affectionately as if she were her own. Coming from a family that never hugged, Jared suffered a few jealous pangs of his own. He wanted a woman who would hug his children like that.

His children.
Panic ought to be setting in, but he was oddly comfortable with the idea of someday having a rugrat of his own.

Cleo appeared with Matty at her side before Jared could recover from the impact of that discovery.

“Marta can close up. What's with the RV?” Without missing a beat, she reached up to remove her squealing niece from Axell's shoulders and bounced her in her arms.

Jared lost what remained of his heart as the chubby tyke contentedly curled up beneath Cleo's chin and sucked her thumb, and Cleo rocked her as if she did it every day of the week. Smitten. Shipwrecked. Shattered. It had to be something in the position of the moon and stars—he wanted Cleo holding
his
child.

Maya was telling her sister something about “rolling hotels” as Axell grabbed Jared's arm and steered him toward the door. “It's a lost cause trying to get a word in edgewise until their batteries run down. Let's pretend we know something about road hogs and get out of their way.”

Jared figured he couldn't have moved a foot without
Axell's impetus pushing him forward. His own family never overwhelmed him like this. Maybe it was because neither of his siblings had married, so he'd never had contact with so many short people at once. Rugrats and teenagers and everything in between. And women …

Feeling as if he were short-circuiting, Jared looked around for Gene. At least he understood the kid, but Gene had hidden from the full family effect. Couldn't exactly blame the boy.

Jared panicked as he walked outside the store and realized the full implication of the arrival of Cleo's family. He had no place to
stay
. He couldn't sleep in Cleo's bed with her son a room away and her sister and a tin can full of toddlers parked in the front yard. Maybe he should book a flight to New York for tonight.

“You know the helicopter pictures worried Maya more than the hurricane,” Axell said casually, all but shoving Jared up the stairs and through the open RV door before the women and children caught up.

Catching himself in the door frame, Jared straightened his arm and blocked all entrance. The other man was bigger and brawnier, but he didn't fear his physical size. He scowled at Axell's placid expression. “Cleo is quite capable of taking care of herself. She won't appreciate interference, well-meaning or otherwise.”

Axell grinned, and Jared had to remember the man was obviously more than a bartender, given his propensity for producing helicopters and enormous RVs at will.

“Yeah, that's what I figured,” Axell replied to Jared's reproach. “But I thought I ought to warn you that Maya will rip your tongue out through your nose if you hurt her sister.”

Jared shook his head in disbelief and stepped inside the semi-size vehicle. Expecting a clutter of kid-proportioned counters and beds, he gazed in approval at the wide open
aisles with comfortably padded bench seats and cap-tain's chairs. “Where did you find this thing?”

Axell shrugged and stared down the long aisle as if just discovering it. “Maya designed it. It shouldn't be bad for a day or two. Makes it easy to keep track of everybody.”

They'd be staying a couple of days. Jared felt as swamped as the beach house must look.

“Leave it to you to solve everything,” Cleo said dryly from behind them as the two women climbed in and the vehicle exploded with children tearing down the aisle. “The beach house might have held you if the storm hadn't taken it out.”

She'd already forgotten his existence. Jared's usual childish inclination to do something irrational to catch her attention didn't materialize, though. He wasn't in the mood for humor.

“Hey, Matty, did you meet Jared?” Cleo called after her son. “He's the one who draws the cartoons I told you about.”

Cleo cautiously touched his arm, and Jared read the plea in her eyes as Matty came forward and she introduced him to the son who meant more than life to her. He felt her anxiety so strongly he almost choked on it. She was trusting him, but she was terrified of doing so.

He didn't ever want her to worry. Brushing her pale cheek with his knuckle to show he understood, he crouched down to Matty's height. “Your mother says you draw wicked peacocks. Gonna show me sometime?”

Boys, he could handle. This one grinned from ear to ear, and tugging his hand from Cleo's tense grip, Matty grabbed Jared's arm and led him back to his own personal storehouse of possessions.

Cleo watched the tall man following in the wake of the small boy and tried not to panic. Jared's sable hair was
only a few shades darker than Matty's. They'd almost pass for father and son.

“Impressive.” Maya whistled quietly behind her. “Housebroke but as untrainable as a big cat, is my guess. My money's on Aries.”

“Teenage nerd,” Cleo countered sarcastically, “with Peter Pan rising.”

Maya muffled a laugh. “Your inner child to his outer one. Perfect. But immature men do not turn their backs on a woman to cater to a child. He's all full-grown male, sis. Watch out.”

“Will you two stow your carving up until I'm out of hearing?” Axell ordered. “I like the man, and I'm tired of being outnumbered. Keep him, Cleo.” He sauntered off to remove Maya's red-haired toddler from her stubborn determination to claim Matty's box.

“I've got Kismet and Gene in the store.” Ignoring her brother-in-law, Cleo retreated toward the door. “I need to go get them.”

As if by magic, Jared appeared at her elbow, with Matty in tow. Cleo didn't think she could handle the juxtaposition of dangerous man and lover with the safe sane world of sister and son, but he didn't intrude. He merely provided the strength her backbone needed to deal with the inevitable collision. Jared did strong and quiet as well as gregarious and sophisticated.

“The kids are hiding in the back room,” he offered as Cleo reached for Matty's hand. “I'll take them to the island, if you'd rather ride with your sister.”

She heard the question in his voice, the one she couldn't answer even if she dared think about it. Maya slipped away, leaving them to discuss the problem with only Matty to hear. The boy grabbed this opportunity to climb into the driver's seat to play with the controls and wasn't listening.

“I don't want to take them back to Linda's,” she whispered.

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