Stand-In Father (Intimate Moments) (11 page)

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Authors: Pat Warren

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Grabbing the handle of her toolbox, Megan walked past him and headed for the stairs. “Just bring it with you, please.”
“No.”
She stopped in midstride, turned around and saw the hand holding the doorknob slither around behind him. “What?” she asked, hanging on to her temper by a thin thread.
“This is such a minor repair, Megan. Why are you turning it into a major altercation?”
“I make minor repairs around here and hire someone to do the major ones. If you fix it, I’ll have to pay you.”
Damn fool stubborn woman. Two could play this game. “All, right, what do you think would be fair payment for five minutes work?”
Megan wished with all her might that she’d have handed him the damn screwdriver, but she was in too deep now. “Five dollars.”
Alex raised both brows. “Five dollars? You pay a dollar a minute for minor repair jobs? I may quit my job and come work for you.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s far more than you make.” She was so rarely sarcastic, yet he’d pushed her. Hadn’t he?
Slowly, Alex brought his hand around, walked over and gave her the doorknob. “Here, you win. Are you happy now?” He walked past her through the swinging kitchen doors.
In the hallway, Megan leaned against the wall and breathed out a rush of air. What had she done to deserve Alex Shephard here in her own home tormenting her? When would he finish his business and go back where he came from?
And why did everything he said and did get under her skin?
 
By four in the afternoon, Megan was dragging. She hadn’t slept well the night before after that close encounter with Alex in Pasquale’s parking lot. Her restless dreams had awakened her repeatedly and irritated her mightily. To top it all off, her washer had broken down again after only six loads. This time, no matter what she did, even resorting to giving it a swift kick, it refused to start again.
She’d given up and called Eddie Jenkins, the repairman.
Fortunately, she’d finished most of the essential laundry including Ryan’s clothes. Climbing up to the third-floor family quarters, she wished she could indulge in a nap.
Walking past Grace’s room, then her own, she stopped halfway down the long hallway. There were voices coming from Ryan’s room. That alone was odd, for he never invited anyone in to his private sanctuary. She usually had to struggle to get him to allow her to vacuum it. The door was ajar. Megan paused, listening.
One voice was definitely Ryan’s, but the other didn’t belong to his friend, Bobby, the only person who visited occasionally. No, it was a deeper voice and much older. She heard two people laughing out loud and pushed open the door.
They were both seated cross-legged on the floor with newspapers spread out between them. The parts to a model car in the making were scattered about and the smell of construction glue was noticeable.
“Hi, Mom,” Ryan said, smiling.
“Hi,” Alex said, also smiling as if they hadn’t all but come to blows earlier today.
“What are you two up to?” she asked, even though it was obvious.
“Putting together the new racer Alex got me.” Ryan held up the box with the picture on the front. “A Stingray. Neat, eh?”
“Positively neat,” Megan answered, sidestepping them and placing the stack of Ryan’s clean clothes on his bed. “Ryan, I thought I told you not to call adults by their first name.”
“He told me to call him Alex. He said that I call Grace by her first name.”
He would come up with that, she thought. “Yes, but Grace is a friend, an old family friend.”
Alex looked up. “You don’t think I could be a family friend?”
Unsure what to say to that, still in shock that her son had invited this relative stranger into his domain, much less was now on a first-name basis with him, she stood watching them. Alex held the tube of glue while Ryan used a toothpick to spread it along the back bumper.
Feeling her eyes on him, Alex decided to speak up as he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Are you going to come down on me about buying this model, too? We’ve been over this ground, but if you’re uncomfortable about—”
“No, no.” Megan waved a dismissive hand. “If you want to spend your afternoons buying model cars and putting them together with an eight-year-old, far be it from me to stop you.”
“Hey, we’re having a good time here.” He’d thought to say it to put her in her place, but suddenly, Alex realized he meant it. Ryan Delaney was a super kid. “Building model cars is important and educational. Hand-eye coordination, you know. Like batting practice—and we’ll get to that after we’re finished here. That reminds me. I bought a bat. You owe me $10.37. I accept checks, Visa or plain old cash.” He turned back in time to shift the tube of glue so Ryan could attend to the front end.
“I see.” But she didn’t, not at all. “I’d have thought you’d rather climb a mountain or go on a safari than do kid things.”
“Not today.” It was one of his dragged-out days, when he tired easily. The doctor had said he’d have them occasionally.
Megan considered the man in front of her thoughtfully. She’d had a few men try to win Ryan over in order to get her into bed. She was, after all, young and fairly attractive and suddenly available with Neal gone. But not stupid. And she’d seen through the short list of friends, neighbors and traveling salesmen. But although she’d caught Alex looking at her with hungry eyes, he hadn’t made a pass or even hinted at anything. And he honestly seemed to enjoy being with Ryan.
She was totally at a loss.
“Megan? Are you up there, Megan?” Grace’s voice came up the stairway.
Megan moved to the open door. “Yes, right here, Grace. What’s up?”
“Eddie Jenkins is here to see you.”
“All right, I’ll be right down.” She turned back to Ryan. “Do you have any homework?”
“You already asked me that when I first came home, Mom. No homework tonight.” Concentrating hard, Ryan stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. “Does this part go over here?” he asked Alex.
“Yeah, right above the grill.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you two later.” Feeling like a fifth-wheel when neither of them even glanced up, she left the room.
As soon as her footsteps receded down the stairs, Alex looked up. “Who’s Eddie Jenkins?”
“This geeky guy who likes Mom.”
“Likes Mom. You mean, like in boyfriend, girlfriend?”
Ryan dropped the tiny piece and bent to retrieve it before the glue dried. “Yeah, I think he’d like to be her boyfriend.”
“How does she feel about him?” Alex hated pumping the kid, but he needed to know. Funny how another guy on the scene hadn’t occurred to him. But after all, Megan Delaney was a lovely woman and her husband had been dead nearly a year. He should have guessed there’d be guys coming around.
Not that it mattered to him, really.
“I don’t think she likes him very much.”
“Does he come over a lot?”
“Only when the washer’s broken. He’s a repairman. He always brings me candy, but I can tell he only does it on account of Mom.”
So, a washer repairman. Maybe he should just wander downstairs and...nah! “Okay, that’s about all we should do for now. Let’s leave it to dry, then finish it tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Rising carefully, Ryan carried the half-finished model over to his desk.
Getting to his feet, Alex crumpled up the glue-spattered newspapers and tossed them into the wastebasket. “You’ve got a real nice room here.”
“Yeah. No one ever uses it, guests, I mean. Except my dad when he was here last time. Mom didn’t want him in her room, so I slept with her.”
“Really? I wonder why.”
“She said ’cause they were always fighting.”
Interesting. Alex noticed a couple of pictures on Ryan’s bulletin board. One was a picture of Megan, a younger Ryan and a tall, smiling man waving from the deck of a sleek speedboat. “Is this your dad?”
Ryan walked over. “Yeah, that’s him. He sure loved that boat.”
“Where is it now?”
“Mom had to sell it.”
That had to have netted her a pretty penny. The only other snapshot stuck among his Little League schedule and other kid stuff was a close-up of Megan looking uncomfortable standing in front of the Delaney’s Bed & Breakfast sign alongside a beaming Neal Delaney.
“That’s the day they opened this place,” Ryan explained. “Isn’t Mom pretty?”
“She sure is.” An expensive speedboat that she probably also sold. But what had she done with the money? Alex wanted in the worst way to ask her, but did he have the right?
And if he started delving into her secrets, what about the secret he was hiding from her?
 
Early afternoon the next day, Alex was stretched out on his bed feeling bored and restless. The third and final banker he wanted to meet with was out of town. Of course, since it was Friday, he could check out of the inn, drive home and come back after the feasibility study was complete, provided it was favorable. There was no reason for him to hang around this tiny burg all weekend. Back in San Diego, he could phone half a dozen friends and get as many invitations. Or he could call someone in his little black book for a date, maybe have dinner at the Del or take in a play.
Or get Maddy to pack one of her special picnic baskets and take a date out on the
Black Sheep.
It was about time he tried out his sailboat. He’d bet the weather would be perfect this time of year. He’d been taking his medication on time and was feeling healthy and strong. He hadn’t napped once since arriving, although yesterday he’d felt a bit droopy.
Suddenly, a mental picture formed—Ryan on his boat and Megan beside him at the wheel, all of them in orange life jackets. They could go over to Catalina, picnic there, sleep overnight on the boat. He could rent a car and drive over to the buffalo ranch. Ryan probably had never seen a buffalo. They could...wait!
Alex swung his legs over and sat up. What in hell was he thinking? Megan wouldn’t leave this place for a couple of hours much less a couple of days. And she’d never let him take Ryan alone. Besides, he’d only come to check things out, make sure Neal Delaney’s family was doing okay, not to get involved.
Not for the first time that day, Alex ran a hand through his hair in frustration. But he hadn’t accomplished what he’d come to do. He didn’t know enough about Megan’s financial affairs to make an honest appraisal. She certainly hadn’t revealed much and he couldn’t very well question local bankers and Realtors. People talked in small towns and she’d surely find out and wonder why he was going around asking questions.
He couldn’t walk away until he knew more, until he was satisfied she could keep her head above water. He knew that only two rooms in the inn were currently occupied, other than his and Mrs. K’s. Maybe business was slower on weekends. Usually, he’d noticed, travelers only stayed one night, two at the most, at a bed-and-breakfast. How could she show a profit on such sporadic bookings?
Maybe if he got to know her better, she’d loosen up and tell him a bit more. Like she’d paid off the mortgage and all her bills with the insurance money and the sale of Neal’s boat. She drove an older car, the place needed sprucing up, and she baked cakes for extra cash. According to the figures Mitch had given him, she’d received over a quarter of a million dollars. Something didn’t add up here.
He glanced at the newspaper he’d been reading, then leaned closer for a look at an ad, an idea forming. Smiling, he went downstairs looking for Megan. He found her in the dining room setting the table for breakfast next morning.
“Hi, there.” She was wearing a pink oversize shirt and white shorts. Her legs were long and shapely, he couldn’t help noticing. Was there no color she didn’t look good in?
Cautiously, Megan looked at him. “Hi, yourself.” She recognized that restive look, for she’d seen it often enough in Neal’s eyes. “Going somewhere?”
“Maybe, if you agree. You said you wanted to know ahead of time if I want to ask Ryan to do something, so I’m asking you first. How about if I take him to see Space Jam at the movies tonight? It’s Friday, no school tomorrow. He told me he’s a big fan of Michael Jordan’s.”
She’d begun shaking her head before he’d finished. “I’m sorry, but I don’t let Ryan go anywhere without me. He’s too young.” She stabbed the air with a fork. “And don’t tell me I’m being overly protective because I know it and I’m not changing.”
He’d known her answer all along. “Okay, then, you come with us. It starts at seven, we’ll be out by nine. The movie got a good review, and let’s face it, you could use a little fun time.”
“I have my baking to do this evening.” Why couldn’t he accept no for an answer like a normal person?
“Can’t you skip it for one night?”
She shot him an annoyed look. “Emily depends on me. The weekends are her biggest days. I can’t let her down.”
“All right, then. It’s only one o’clock. You can bake this afternoon.”

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