Forever Hers (5 page)

Amy put the pitcher of lemonade in the fridge then turned to her daughter with a broad grin. “Well, sweetie. Where do you want to visit this morning? Sand-o-ville?”

The previous owners had grandchildren and had gone a little overboard creating a sandpit by the pier. It was Raelynn’s favorite play place, but her daughter shook her head this morning, her thumb slipping into her mouth.

Amy frowned. Raelynn had stopped sucking her thumb weeks ago. Her pediatrician had said it calmed her down, but it was bad for her growing teeth. Amy gently tugged the hand away from Raelynn’s mouth.

“How about a brief visit to the Crayon-a-castle?” Her tiny coloring desk, shaped like a castle, sat a few feet away from Amy’s workstation in the living room.

Raelynn shook her head again, blonde curls whipping around her tiny ears.

Maybe they could read together. She had turned the corner of Raelynn’s room into a reading and play area with a large bean bag, stuffed animals, toys and cute racks for books. Whenever her daughter was indoors, that was where she disappeared to.

Amy placed a hand on her ear and pretended she was hearing sounds from a distance. “I think I hear the citizens of Read-a-kingdom calling for their princess?”

“No. TV-land.”

“TV-land? That’s so boring.”

A mutinous expression settled on Raelynn’s face. “I want to watch TV.”

It was going to be one of those days. “Okay. One episode of Sesame Street.”

Raelynn ran to the study, leaving Amy in the kitchen. The weather was too beautiful for her daughter to be indoors, but short of forcing her to go outside and play, there was nothing Amy could do. Somehow, she must find a way to convince her Eddie was not Nolan. Otherwise she’d be running two households, one for their guest and the other for her and her daughter. She’d tried it with Baron and Kara and it didn’t work.

Outside, Lauren and Eddie were still talking and laughing. Ignoring them, Amy finished the dishes and pans, wiped down the surfaces then went to clean the patio table. She noticed a few shards of glass she’d missed earlier when she’d swept the broken light bulbs. Raelynn and the neighbors’ kids walked around the patio in their bare feet and the last thing she wanted was a trip to the ER.

Damned burglars. They’d better not come back again.

Amy was sweeping the patio again when Lauren came up behind her and grabbed her arm. “We need to talk.”

“What’s going on?” Amy asked.

“Inside,” Lauren whispered. As soon as they closed the door behind them, she gave Amy a conspirator’s grin. “So?”

Amy cocked her brow. “What?”

“Eddie is single.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I know.”

“And gorgeous.”

“Uh, if you like the type.”

Lauren laughed. “Type?”

Amy grinned, remembering their conversation. “Silent, intense, everything and everyone in its place.”

“You got all that in…what? A few hours?”

Amy shrugged.

“So you’re not interested in a little holiday fling?”

The thought of her with Eddie Fitzgerald was…mind boggling. “No. Way. I have enough to deal with without taking
that
on. Besides, I’ll be lucky if he spends time in the same room with us. Raelynn won’t even meet him.”

“Poor darling. It can’t be easy for her. Was she like that with Baron?”

“Yeah, but having Kara made a difference. Anyway, I have an idea on how to fix things. It will depend on Eddie, and whether or not he’s good with children.”

“I hope he is. I offered to show him around,” Lauren said, a sheepish expression on her face.

Amy couldn’t explain the sudden hollow feeling in her stomach. “And?”

“He took my card and said he’ll call.”

“I’m sure he will,” Amy said weakly.

Lauren grinned. “We’ll see. Later.”

Amy walked her to the door, waved as she walked away, and then she went in search of Raelynn.

***

Eddie was aware of being watched. He wasn’t sure whether it was Amy, the daughter or the realtor. He couldn’t believe the woman wanted to sell him a home. He should have told her he wasn’t interested instead of taking her card and agreeing to see a few local listings. He wasn’t into remote getaways like his cousins. He belonged in L.A., putting bad guys behind bars.

Eddie finished with the motor and sat back. The sun was high in the sky and even though he was under the canopy, he was hot, sweaty and thirsty. At least he knew exactly what the engine needed, which meant a trip to a supply store.

Footsteps on the dock drew his attention. Amy walked toward him carrying a tray with a pitcher and a glass. Her daughter stayed behind her, so all Eddie saw was a yellow lifejacket and green shorts and curly blonde hair. Usually kids adored him, if nieces and nephew counted, but this one…he sensed her fear. Of him or men in general, he didn’t know. By the time they reached him, he had pulled his shirt back on and was ready to charm her.

“We thought you might be thirsty,” Amy said.

“Thanks.” He didn’t get up even when she placed the tray on the boat. His position meant he was eye-level with her daughter, who wrapped an arm around her mother’s leg and peered at him, a thumb in her mouth. He pretended not to notice her scrutiny.

“So what’s the verdict?” Amy asked, one hand on her hip, the other going to her daughter’s head.

“The propeller, the oil filter and a few worn out bolts need to be replaced. The oil needs changing too. I’ll drive out to Sandpoint and pick up parts later today or tomorrow.”

“That’s good. Do you want to take a break and have a freshly squeezed glass of lemonade chilled to perfection?”

The glass and the pitcher had cute little red and yellow flowers, and he imagined putting smudges all over them. “I think I’ll wash my hands before I touch anything.”

“Oh we don’t mind, do we, sweetheart?” Raelynn didn’t respond, but Amy appeared not to notice. She kept her daughter in their conversation as she sat on the nearest beach chair. There were several of them, even one smaller, but Raelynn didn’t sit. Instead, she stay glued to her mother’s side, thumb still in her mouth, eyes on him. “Besides, there’s nothing on this boat that can clean him up, is there?”

Raelynn shook her head.

“There you have it, Fitzgerald. You are officially the messiest mechanic we’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not.” He wiped his fingers across his forehead and a giggle came from the child.

“You just made your face worse,” Amy said.

He’d gotten a giggle, and that was what mattered. He wiped his nose, deliberately adding more smudges. “Is that better?”

More giggles from Raelynn, the thumb slipping out of her mouth.

“I think you forgot your cheek,” Amy said, catching on.

“Where?”

“Right there.” Amy leaned forward to touch his face.

He leaned back. There was no way he was letting her touch him. He’d made the mistake of letting her touch him earlier and filed it under ‘never to be repeated.’ The woman screwed with his head enough without adding physical contact.

“I got it.” He pretended to clean his cheeks, deliberately smearing them with black, oily goo, then made eye contact with Raelynn, who was giggling uncontrollably.

She was a beautiful child. She might not look like Amy now, but anyone could tell they were related. They had the same brilliant blue eyes and stubborn tilt of their chins.

As though aware of his scrutiny, Raelynn slid her thumb back into her mouth and hid behind her mother’s chair. After a few seconds, she peeked at him. Eddie didn’t smile, but he and the little girl stared at each other. He had no idea what was going in her head, but at least she wasn’t screaming.

“I think I’ll have some lemonade now,” he said, keeping his voice neutral.

“Would you like to meet the person who made it? All I did was cut the lemons.” She glanced over her shoulder though she didn’t try to urge her daughter to come out of her hiding place. “Well, sweetheart?”

Raelynn shook her head, her curls bouncing.

Amy smiled and touched her daughter’s cheek, then gave Eddie an apologetic little smile. “I guess she’s not ready to play.”

“Maybe the
lemonade connoisseur
doesn’t like greasy hands,” Eddie added, wiping his hand on his shirt.

“Eew,” Raelynn managed to say around her thumb, but she still didn’t move from behind his mother’s chair.

Eddie chuckled.

Amy shook her head at his antics, then poured him some lemonade. Their fingers touched as she passed him the glass and they both froze. The smile she gave him was tinged with a hint of mischief, as if she knew the effect she had on him. Or maybe it was all in his head.

“Thanks for this,” Eddie mumbled, raising the glass.

“No problem. We drink a lot of lemonade around here.” Her voice was husky, low and hesitant as though her mind was elsewhere, then she glanced at the dark smudges he’d left on her hand.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make your hand dirty,” he said.

Amy shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

He sipped his lemonade, savoring the tartness. It wasn’t too sweet, just like he liked it. He drained the glass then grinned at Raelynn, who hadn’t moved from behind her mother.

“That was very good lemonade. Can I have more, please?” His eyes met Amy’s and the smile on her lush lips suddenly disappeared. It was as though a door slammed between them.

Not sure what just happened, he focused on her little girl, who tugged her mother’s arm. Amy added more lemonade in his glass, placed the pitcher back on the tray and rubbed her hands on her shorts. Eddie didn’t know what he’d said or done to make her have that ready-to-bolt look on her face.

“We’ll leave the pitcher. Uh, we’re planning on going grocery shopping this afternoon, so if you need anything other than what we discussed earlier, I’ll pick them up too.”

“Sure.” He studied her and wondered why she couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Alright then,” she said, turning away and reaching for her daughter’s hand. “Come on, sweetie. Sand-o-ville needs new roads and buildings.”

Eddie watched mother and daughter walk away, their conversation punctuated by Raelynn’s giggles. He had no idea what Sand-o-ville was, but the little girl appeared to have ideas on how to make it beautiful.

“What is lemonade con…con…?” he heard Raelynn ask when they stopped by the sandpit.

“Connoisseur,” Amy finished. “It means someone who makes the best lemonade and that’s what you are—lemonade connoisseur.”

She removed her daughter’s life vest then the little girl squatted and started shoving sand with a small, blue plastic shovel. Amy glanced back at him and gave him a smile he couldn’t define. Again, he wondered what the heck had happened. One minute he was connecting with her daughter, then next she couldn’t wait to put some distance between them.

A dark-haired boy around Raelynn’s age came running from the neighboring house to the right and joined them. Most of the houses weren’t fenced or separated by any visible vegetation, and the lawns overlapped. He would have to ask her how far to mow.

“Ahoy, Jimmy,” Amy called out, drawing Eddie’s attention.

“Can I play with Raelynn, Mrs. Franklin?”

Mrs. Franklin? Was that her married name? She laughed, the sound both sweet and sexy.

“Of course you can,” she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “You know you never have to ask.”

“Mom said when you have guests, I shouldn’t bother you,” the boy said, already digging in the sand.

“I’m sure Mr. Fitzgerald won’t mind having a few children around now and then.” Amy didn’t look his way as he spoke.

He minded. Winning over one little girl was all he could deal with now. Dealing with a bunch of them was not part of his vacation plans. As though on cue, a second boy with a shock of red hair, this one taller than Raelynn, ran from the house on the other side and joined the group in the sandpit. Three. How many more? Do they also spend time inside the house?

Eddie lifted the glass to his lips and drained the lemonade, his gaze on Amy as she walked toward the house. In the age when women starved themselves to stay thin, she embraced her curves with pride. Her walk, a slow roll of hips as though to draw attention to them, was both sexy and confident. His traitorous body responded.

Great things come in small packages
. A bit of a cliché, but Amy embodied it. She was every man’s dream wrapped in skimpy cut-offs and a tank top. What did she do for a living?

From his cousin’s conversation, it was something he wouldn’t like. From the way she’d held the gun and the flashlight, she could be a cop. Maybe she was undercover. He wouldn’t object to that. He would even help her nab the burglar robbing the homes along the lake.

No, she couldn’t be a cop. No sane policewoman, or policeman, would go undercover with their own child. What if she was the burglar? Eddie chuckled at the thought. He could smell a con artist a mile away. Amy’s direct gaze said she was honest, and the way she jumped on any topic without weighing the consequences indicated she was impulsive and without guile.