Home at Rose Cottage (15 page)

“What’s wrong with now? Jessie’s with Melanie, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then get over here.”

Jeff hung up before Mike could ask what was so important that it couldn’t wait till morning.

He made the twenty-minute drive to the Graingers, muttering to himself about his friend’s call. When he’d left earlier, everything had been fine. There’d been no potential landscaping disasters on the horizon. When he arrived to find Jeff sitting on a log, gazing at the river, his curses escalated.

“What the hell’s the big emergency?” he demanded.

“No emergency,” Jeff said, regarding him serenely.

Mike stared at him. “Then what am I doing here?”

“Having a beer,” Jeff said, holding one out for him.

Mike ignored it. “Explain,” he said tightly.

“I figured you’d be a little antsy by now, so I’m providing a diversion. I would have met you at a bar, but I figured you’d never agree to it.”

“Are you nuts?”

“I don’t think so. I’m in a tranquil setting, taking a break, having a cold one. What’s crazy about that?”

Mike could have listed half a dozen things, but instead he sank down beside Jeff and accepted the beer. He might as well. He did have two hours to kill and absolutely nothing better to do with them besides worry.

“How did you know I’d be going out of my mind about now?” he asked.

“Intuition. That and the fact that you were all but twitching with dread when you told me you were leaving Jessie at Melanie’s this afternoon. Man, you have got to chill about stuff like this. Do you want Jessie underfoot for the rest of your life?”

“She still needs me,” Mike insisted. “She’s only six.”

“She needs to figure out she can do okay with somebody other than her dad, too,” Jeff said.

Mike frowned. “I know that. I leave her with you guys sometimes.”

“Long enough to run to the store. That’s about it,” Jeff said. “Lyssa’s been begging for Jessie to spend the night, but you’ve refused to let her.”

“She’s too young for a sleepover,” Mike replied. “Besides, those two get along great for a couple of hours and then they’re at war. I don’t want you all to have to deal with that.”

“They fight. They get over it. It’s what kids do. Haven’t you been around when my three start picking on each other?”

“That’s different.”

Jeff stared at him over his bottle of beer. “This I’ve got to hear. How is that any different?”

“They’re siblings.”

“And that makes the fighting easier to take?”

“No, but they’re your kids,” he said, knowing he wasn’t
making a lot of sense. If Jeff and Pam could handle it when their three were on a tear, then adding Jessie to the mix wouldn’t faze them. Rationally he knew that. In his gut, it was harder to accept. Jessie was his responsibility, not theirs.

“We consider Jessie one of the family,” Jeff reminded him. “We’re perfectly comfortable putting her in a timeout if she misbehaves.”

Mike held up his hands. “Okay. Okay. She can spend the night some weekend.”

“This Friday,” Jeff said, seizing the opening. “You can take Melanie out and have the whole night to yourselves.” He winked. “You can have your own sleepover.”

It was definitely an intriguing possibility, but Mike wasn’t sure how he felt about all of these people ganging up on him to get some distance between him and Jessie. Or to close the distance between him and Melanie. It was all moving just a little too fast.

“Don’t even try to tell me that you’re not going to take advantage of this opportunity I’m giving you,” Jeff said. “You, Melanie, alone all night long.” He dangled the prospect like a very tempting carrot.

Visions of making love to Melanie slammed through Mike. Jeff was right again. Mike could hardly turn that down.

“I’ll talk to her about it when I get back over there. She may be convinced by then that the Mikelewskis are a bad bet.”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving Jessie nearly enough credit. Most of the time these days, she’s a good kid. You’ve done a great job of getting her to this point. And, frankly, to everyone else it’s obvious that Melanie is charmed by her.”

“If you say so,” Mike responded, though he still harbored his own doubts.

He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that with the drive back to town and the pizza to pick up, he was actually going to be a little later than he’d intended. He waited for the anxiety to rush over him, for the desire to grab his phone to call and alert Melanie that he was going to be maybe ten minutes behind schedule. Nothing happened. No gut churning. No desperation. Just the comforting realization that Jessie was in good hands.

He grinned at Jeff. “I owe you.”

Jeff nodded. “You do, indeed.”

“I’m not talking about this weekend. I’m talking about making me see that I don’t have to hover over Jessie every single instant.”

“Then my work here is done,” Jeff said, standing up. “Pam will be proud.”

Mike stared at him. “This was her idea?”

“Of course. You sure as hell don’t think I’m this sensitive, do you?”

Mike laughed, feeling more relaxed than he had in a very long time. “Come to think of it, no.”

“I
can’t choose,” Jessie said, her brow puckered in a frown.

She studied the row of bottles of pink, mauve, beige and red nail polish Melanie had accumulated. In addition to those she’d purchased the day before, there was quite a collection left from when Melanie and her sisters had visited as teenagers. Some were all dried up by now, but there had been a half dozen that were still usable. Some shades were brilliant and clear, some frosted. Melanie could understand why Jessie was having such a tough time deciding. She had a hunch, though, that it wasn’t just the variety that was holding things up. It was evident that Jessie didn’t want the afternoon to end. She’d hugged Melanie a zillion times and said she was having the “bestest time ever.”

“I like ’em all,” Jessie added, her expression wistful as she studied the nail polish.

Melanie grinned. “Well, I can’t very well paint every nail a different color. You have to choose, and soon, too, or your dad will be back.”

“What color do you like?”

Melanie held out her hands. Her nails were cut short
and buffed but unpainted. “I’m not the best person to ask,” she told the little girl. “I never get around to painting mine.”

Jessie’s eyes lit up. “We can do yours, too. I’ll help.”

Now there was a frightening idea, Melanie thought. She’d already noted that Jessie had more enthusiasm than finesse with a hairbrush and the lipstick she’d convinced Melanie to let her try. Who knew what she’d do with a bottle of nail polish?

“This is your day,” she told Jessie quickly. “Besides, I’ve been working in the garden. My nails would get all messed up.”

“Not if you wore gloves,” Jessie said reasonably. “Pam has really pretty ones at the nursery. They have little flowers on ’em. I like ’em a lot, but she doesn’t have ’em in my size.”

“I’ll give that some thought,” Melanie promised. “But we’re running out of time now. Your dad will be back soon, so you’d better choose a color, so your nails will be beautiful when he gets here.”

Jessie crawled into her lap and gave the bottles lined up on the edge of the sink a closer inspection. “This one,” she said at last, choosing a hot pink. “Pink’s my very favorite color in the whole world.”

No one would have known that given the way she’d lingered over choosing. The chili-pepper red had been in the lead for a while, Melanie thought with amusement. Melanie was considering that one for her own toes one of these nights when she had time for a pedicure.

“Then pink it is,” she said as she gave the bottle a few quick shakes. “Now give me your hand.”

Only when Jessie’s little hand was tucked in hers did Melanie realize that Jessie had bitten her nails to the quick. Trying not to wince at the sight, she said mildly,
“You know, your nails would be much prettier if you didn’t bite them.”

Jessie frowned. “I can’t help it.”

She would have jerked them away in obvious embarrassment, but Melanie wouldn’t allow her to. “Sure you can,” Melanie said easily. “I used to bite mine. You know what got me to stop?”

“What?”

“I kept thinking how pretty they were going to be when they grew out. Every time I started to bite a nail, I thought about that, and soon they were growing. That’s when my mom let me use nail polish for the first time.”

Jessie finally relaxed again and regarded her with curiosity. “How old were you?”

“Way older than you. Twelve, I think.”

Jessie looked incredulous. “And you still bit your nails?”

Melanie nodded. “Whenever I got scared.”

Jessie watched her painting each tiny nail and seemed to be considering what Melanie had just told her. “Didn’t you ever get scared again?” she asked at last.

“Sure,” Melanie told her, starting on the other hand. “Lots of times.”

“What did you do if you couldn’t bite your nails anymore?”

“I drew in a great big breath, like this,” she said, demonstrating until Jessie giggled. “And then I told myself I could do anything. I could get up in front of the class if I had to or I could climb the rope in the gym or I could ace my math test. Pretty soon I began to believe in myself, and I never even thought about biting my nails again.”

Jessie nodded, her expression solemn. “I can do that. I can even beat up Kevin Reed, if he picks on me again.”

Melanie smothered a laugh. “No, you cannot beat up
Kevin Reed,” she said emphatically. “It will only get you into trouble, just like yesterday.”

Jessie sighed heavily. “Sometimes Kevin needs to get beat up.”

“Was he mean to you today?”

Jessie shook her head. “He found somebody else to pick on.”

“I see.”

“Janice won’t hit back.” She gave Melanie a hopeful look. “Shouldn’t I hit him for her?”

“Absolutely not. Let the teacher handle Kevin.”

Jessie looked disappointed. Then she held out her hands to admire her new pink nails. “They look beautiful,” she said excitedly. “I can’t wait for Daddy to get back. Let me see in the mirror again. Is my hair still okay?”

“Your hair is perfect,” Melanie assured her, lifting her up so she could see for herself. The lipstick was another matter, but Jessie seemed happy enough with it. Mike was probably going to have a cow.

Obviously satisfied with her own reflection, Jessie threw her arms around Melanie’s neck. “I love you.”

Tears immediately stung Melanie’s eyes. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, hugging Jessie tightly and breathing in the little-girl scent of strawberry soap and shampoo. “I love you, too.”

For the first time in her life, Melanie felt needed. How was she going to give this feeling up when the time came? She’d had no idea that all these maternal instincts had been lurking deep inside her, just waiting for a chance to emerge.

Why did she have to give up anything? The thought came from out of nowhere to plant itself in her head. Once there, she couldn’t seem to make it go away. Of course, loving Jessie was one thing. Committing herself
to a relationship with Jessie’s daddy was something else entirely. And for all the warm and fuzzy feelings she was having right this second, she still wasn’t sure if she was ready to take that next step.

Even if she were, Mike might have other ideas about what the future held. There was no point in deluding herself that she was any match at all for the fears and doubts he had about his and Jessie’s worth to another person. Those doubts had driven his life for years now.

She was still holding Jessie, lost in all these mixed emotions, when the doorbell rang.

“Daddy!” Jessie shouted, squirming to get down. “I’ll get it. Where’s my feathers and shoes?”

Melanie handed her the boa she’d found in her grandmother’s closet. It was shocking pink and Jessie had fallen in love with it on sight. She’d also claimed an old pair of red high heels from the closet.

“Remember, you have to walk slow in those shoes,” Melanie reminded her.

“I will,” Jessie promised.

Jessie tottered from the bathroom and left Melanie to wipe away any trace of tears from her cheeks before she went out to face the two people who could change her life forever.

Mike knew he was a goner when he came back to Melanie’s at five-twenty with a large, deep-dish, everything-on-it pizza and found his giggling, bright-eyed daughter with her hair in an elaborate braid of some kind and bright-pink polish on her tiny nails. He could have lived without the lipstick, but gathered that was a necessary part of playing grown-up. She had some sort of feather thing wound around her neck and dragging on the floor behind her. She was wobbling in a pair of high-heeled
shoes that were much too large for her. It was the most normal moment he could ever recall, and it made his heart ache that Melanie had been the one to share it with her and not him. But how could he regret anything that had made his baby girl so happy?

He looked at Melanie and mouthed a silent thank-you before scooping Jessie up in his arms and tickling her.

“You’ve gone and turned into a gorgeous grown-up lady on me,” he said. “Where’s my little girl?” He glanced at Melanie and asked with feigned ferocity. “What have you done with her?”

“No little girls here,” Melanie teased. “Right, Jessie?”

“Just me, Daddy. But this is for when I’m at Melanie’s,” she recited dutifully, then gazed at him hopefully. “Can we come here all the time?”

Mike looked at Melanie and came to the conclusion he should have reached way before this. “That’s something Melanie and I will have to discuss one of these days.”

“Ask her now,” Jessie prodded.

“No,” he said firmly. “Now we have to eat pizza before it gets cold.”

“But—”

“No arguments,” he said firmly. “Or I’ll have to call Lyssa and tell her you won’t be able to have a sleepover at her house tomorrow night, after all.”

Jessie looked awestruck. “I can spend the whole night at Lyssa’s?”

“You can,” he said, glad that Jeff had backed him into that particular corner. It was obviously something Jessie had wanted and had never dreamed he would allow.

“How come?” she asked.

“I think you’re old enough now, don’t you?”

She bobbed her head enthusiastically, but then worry creased her brow. “Won’t you be lonely, Daddy?”

Mike met Melanie’s gaze and held it until her cheeks turned pink. “I don’t think so,” he said quietly.

“I got an idea,” Jessie said excitedly. “Why don’t you have a sleepover with Melanie?”

Mike bit back a groan. Out of the mouths of babes. “Don’t worry about me,” he told Jessie. “I can make my own plans for the evening.”

“But—”

He gave her a warning look. “Jessie!”

She sighed. “I just want Melanie to be my mommy,” she said wearily. “I wish you’d hurry up and ask her.”

Mike glanced at Melanie and saw the bright-red patches on her cheeks and something that looked like panic in her eyes. She definitely wasn’t ready to hear that he was beginning to think a lot like his daughter. He was ready to give Jessie the new mommy she’d been dreaming of.

She should never have agreed to go out with Mike tonight, Melanie thought, her pulse scrambling frantically and her stomach knotting. She was not ready to have the kind of discussion he clearly had in mind, especially when she was almost a hundred percent certain that his motives had nothing to do with love and everything to do with Jessie. He was going to dangle everything she’d ever wanted in front of her—a home, a family—and she was going to say no because he wasn’t offering the most important thing of all, his love.

But maybe she was getting ahead of herself. Besides, it would be cowardly to back out. Maybe she’d gotten the signals all wrong anyway. Maybe he was really interested in nothing more than an entire evening for just the two of them. Maybe that glint in his eye had been about sex, not marriage.

She had almost convinced herself that it was as simple as that when he announced they were going to spend the evening at his place.

“I’ve got chicken slow-roasting in the oven,” he told her, his gaze locked with hers. “I hope that’s okay.”

“It sounds perfect,” she answered honestly. “I hope it’s roasting
very
slowly.”

He grinned. “I can always turn the heat down when we get there.”

“And I can turn it up,” she countered, enjoying the flare of desire in his eyes and relieved that there’d been no hints about serious talk for the evening’s agenda.

They made the drive to his house in silence, but rather than feeling uncomfortable, Melanie was filled with anticipation that seemed to grow with each mile that passed. She’d missed being close to Mike, feeling his touch.

“Is Jessie settled for the night at Lyssa’s?” she asked eventually.

“I hope so,” he said, suddenly looking worried. “This is a big step for her.”

“And for you,” Melanie guessed.

He shook his head. “I know it’s ridiculous, but she’s been my responsibility for so long, it’s hard to stop worrying about her.”

“From what I hear about parents and kids, you’ll never stop worrying about her,” Melanie told him. “But you will learn to cope with it and keep it in perspective.” She grinned. “I’ll do my best to provide a distraction tonight.”

“I don’t think there’s any question that you’ll do an excellent job,” he said, putting his hands on her waist and lifting her from the truck.

He looked into her eyes, then slowly lowered his mouth to take hers in a long, greedy kiss.

Melanie felt as if she were floating, which she was, she realized eventually when she could think straight again. Mike was still holding her off the ground, her body molded to his.

“Maybe you ought to put me down,” she suggested lightly.

“I don’t want to.”

“We’ll get inside faster if you do.”

He laughed. “You do know how to create a powerful incentive, don’t you? But I don’t have to put you down to get inside.”

Before she realized his intention, he’d put an arm under her knees and rearranged her against his chest. He set off toward the house in long, determined strides.

“Are you suddenly in a hurry?”

“Darlin’, I’ve been in a hurry for this since the last time we made love.”

She studied him curiously. “Why haven’t you done anything about it?”

“Too many complications.”

“And now?”

“I think we’re getting them untangled.”

Melanie wished she were half as sure of that as he seemed to be. But before she could express her concerns, they were inside, in his room and Mike was lowering her to his bed. The heat in his eyes was enough to melt away whatever crazy ideas she’d had about talking.

“Do you know how incredible it is that we have the whole night ahead of us?” he murmured. “I want to take this slow. I want to get to know every inch of your body. I want to watch you come apart in my arms time and again.”

Melanie trembled at his words, at the gentle touch of his hands as he worked the buttons on her blouse until
they were free and he could shove the material away. Then he skimmed his fingers over her lace-covered breasts until the peaks were tight, aching buds.

“You are so amazing,” he whispered, his voice husky. “Amazing.”

Melanie tried to find the words to respond, but her breath caught in her throat when he covered her breast with his mouth and sucked. Her hips rose off the bed in response to that incredible sensation.