Where Their Hearts Collide: Wardham Book #2 (4 page)

He shook off
his melancholy mood. It was time to take advantage of the warm spring day.

He grabbed a pack of burgers from the freezer and stuck his head outside. “Meg, burgers okay for dinner?”

She nodded, and reluctantly stood up.

“Stay.” He glanced at Karen, taking a moment to appreciate her warm beauty. That was okay. It was inevitable, so it had to be okay. “It’ll take me a few minutes to get things ready, keep talking. If it’s okay with Karen, I mean.”

“Of course.” Her smile carried all the way to her eyes, and she held his gaze for an extra second before turning back to Megan and resuming what sounded like a discussion about book length.

The barbeque on his deck was ancient
. It had come with the house, but he’d used it twice already. He cranked the propane and reached for the lighter, knowing that the igniter switch didn’t work. It took a few tries, but eventually both burners caught and he lowered the lid to build up the heat.

Back inside, he assembled buns, condiments and vegetables on a tray to carry outside. It was warm enough to eat an early dinner on the deck. He perused the contents of his fridge, which still hadn’t reached that happy full stage, and decided on beer for himself and lemonade for Megan.

When he returned to the deck, the conversation had wandered in a different direction.
Cute guys? No way is Megan old enough for that
. He gave them a minute while he got the burgers going, and then interjected. “Hey now, Dad alert—want to not give me a heart attack, here?’

Megan and Karen ducked their heads together and giggled. His daughter raised her eyebrows and taunted him a sing-song voice. “Would you rather we talk about cute girls?”

He had enough self-control to not flick his gaze toward Karen, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her blush, and that was enough to send his mind spiraling into the gutter. He cleared his throat and willed his cock not to respond. It ignored him completely.
How far down her chest does that blush spread? What else makes her turn so deliciously pink?

He tried to distract himself by s
etting the table, but his baser-self jeered at him the whole time. As a man, he couldn’t help but notice women.
Particularly this woman
. In fact, since he’d met Karen, he really hadn’t noticed anyone else. And more often than not, he was being visited in his dreams by a brunette with a big smile and bouncy breasts.

Not that he was blaming his sub-conscious. He couldn’t do that, when he let his waking thoughts drift to her as well. Just that morning he’d taken himself to the brink in the shower, imagining—

“Dad!” Megan’s shriek pulled him out of his thoughts, and her wild gestures in the direction of his barbeque, flames licking out along the edge of the lid, black smoke pluming into the air.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, leaping forward to flip the lid up, then ducking beneath the unit to turn off the propane. As the flames sputtered out beneath the charred remains of their still smoking burgers, he had to give a nod to the universe for reminding him where his focus needed to be
—and where it couldn’t be.

Behind him, the deck creaked, and he glanced back at Karen and Megan who were approaching the barbeque with horrified expressions.

“I’m not eating that,” Meg said resolutely, crossing her arms.

Paul sighed.
“Of course not.”

“Carbon gives you cancer.”

“I think I’ve got a frozen pizza I can pull out.” He raised his eyebrows at his daughter’s sullen expression. “You have an interesting ability to go from happy to mad in no time flat, kiddo.”

She scowled, but he wanted to believe he
also saw chagrin melt into her expression.

“
Uhm,” Karen glanced between them cautiously. “I have a giant steak over there, already grilled. I could slice it up, and we could use your buns to make steak sandwiches?”

Meg perked up at the suggestion, and Paul couldn’t think of a good reason to beg off and not incur the wrath of a ten-year-old for being stubborn and “weird”. He didn’t really understand what that meant, but to Meg, it was the highest order of insults.

He nodded. “That would be awesome, thank you, Karen.”

She blushed again, and he wondered at the contradiction. For someone so personable, she didn’t seem comfortable with much attention.
Or maybe she’s picking up on the fact that your attention isn’t just friendly
. He cursed himself for possibly making her uncomfortable. Playing at straight and upstanding would take more effort than he’d put into it so far.
Or you could try actually being a good neighbour instead of fantasizing inappropriately about her at every turn.
He shook his head. Now his subconscious was lecturing him like they were separate people. Probably something that a psychologist would love to delve into. Him, not so much, and yet there it was on his mind.  

Before he could think about that much further, she’d gone and returned, bearing not just a drool-worthy steak, but also
veggies and hummus, and a drink for herself. He gestured for her to pull up a chair, resisting the excuse to get closer and pull it out for her.

After they’d stuffed themselves, Paul handed over the phone and urged Megan to call her mother to say goodnight. She rolled her eyes, but skipped inside quickly enough he knew it was the right suggestion. He felt compelled to fill the sudden silence of the backyard with an explanation. “She hates it when Susan and I fight, even about something little.” He shifted in his seat
. “Her mother is better at reassuring—”

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain.” Her voice was soft and low, and her expression was without guile. “I mean, if you want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen, but from the little I’ve seen, it seems like you’re handling it as well as anyone would.”

He let out a short, humourless laugh. That would be a quick way to end any possibility of Karen being attracted to him. Let her see just how badly he’d handled being a dad.

If his bark raised any questions, they didn’t show in her eyes. Her gaze held his just long enough to remind him of her offer to listen,
then drifted to the back of the yard when it became clear he wasn’t going to take her offer. But maybe he could return it.

“How about you?”

“What about me?” She wrinkled her brow in honest confusion.

A dozen questions slammed into his head. He wanted to know why she was cooking a steak for one. Why she was surprised at the chemistry between them. Where her support network
was, and how she managed to get his daughter to talk about things without scowling. What her favourite books were and if she liked movies. Popcorn or candy at the theatre. Her favourite season. Colour of her sheets. Her bra.

“Paul?”

He cleared his throat. “You talked to Meg about books, you would listen to me piss and moan...isn’t it your turn to unload?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You
offering?”

Had no one done that before?
“Yeah. I’m offering.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know you as well as you know me.” Something flickered in her eyes, a flare of worry. If he didn’t have a decade of experience interviewing people with something to hide, he’d probably have missed it. “Unless you think you know me better...”

Bingo. She flushed, this time not so delicately. Her lower lip sucked in between her teeth, and her eyes widened. An honest, innocent response that made him
feel two feet tall for poking at her.

He leaned forward in his chair and braced his forearms against his thighs, hands splayed in an open gesture. “Hey, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.” He offered what he hoped came across as a gentle smile. “Did you go through my garbage? Email me from a fake account? Spy on me with binoculars?”

She returned his smile, although hers was more tenuous and her brow remained furrowed. “It’s just that you’re somewhat a hot topic of conversation, and in Wardham, those types of conversations tend to happen at the grocery store.”

“So you’ve been gossiping about me?” He let out a hoot and settled back in his chair.
The idea of Karen lapping up bits of information about him over the checkout belt warmed him from the inside out. “First of all, darlin’, that doesn’t mean you know me. And second, it’s not something to get all flustered over. You need to brass these things out. Or don’t gossip in the first place if it makes you feel so bad.”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest, plumping up her breasts. Not the right moment to get distracted. She was going to scold him, and then brush it
off, just like she had the first time they met. He could see it coming and had to restrain himself from grinning in broad delight.

“You’re…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t feel bad about gossiping about you now.” She scowled, but the heat was already fading.

“Good. Now tell me what has you out of sorts.”

“I’m not—” Except she was
, and recognition that he had her number flashed across her face. “How did you know that I was out of sorts?”

“
You stomped up the drive earlier, and you’ve had a distracted look on your face ever since.”

“I didn’t stomp.”

“It was cute.”

“Shut up.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “I was talking to my mom.”

He waited. It didn’t take long.

“I haven’t always worked at the grocery store. I mean, I have, really. I started bagging groceries when I was twelve, and before that I helped stock shelves on Sundays. But I took a break when I went to universit
y.” The words poured out like maple syrup. Smooth and shiny, fast and sweet. She’d given this spiel before. “And when my parents decided to retire, I’d just moved home. So it made sense to take over managing the store.”

“Your idea?”

“I don’t remember.” After pausing for a sip of beer, she shook her head. Her next words didn’t come out smoothly, or quickly. “It was their idea. It benefited them as much as me, but…”

“You think they did it for you.”

She managed to nod and shake her head at the same time, which made him laugh. “It was a good thing.
Really. For all of us. They got to travel more freely, without selling the store, and I had a job at a time when I needed one. And when they came home for the summer, I could take as much time off as I wanted.”

“So what’s changed?”

“Nothing. And that’s the problem. A decade has flitted by in the blink of an eye, and I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. And I’m in my thirties, so I can’t pretend that an awesome life is still going to happen.” She grimaced and looked down at her beer bottle. While they’d been talking, she’d worried the label with her thumbnail, and now she peeled the whole thing off.

Paul felt his cock flex against the denim of his jeans. He had a flashback to high school, and a teasing game from the first drinking parties
he attended. Sometimes a fully intact peeled label meant one was sexually frustrated. Other times it meant you would get lucky. It depended on which dominant teen queen was making up the rules that night. He’d never wanted the latter to be as true as he did in that moment, and never before had the former been more guaranteed.

He needed to change the subject. “You want another beer? I should check on Megan, too.” She nodded as he stood up.

When he returned, she’d moved to stand at the back of his deck, leaning against the rail.

“Meg’s done talking to her mom, but now she’s catching up on a reality show she recorded. I should go in and watch it with her, but watching people embarrass themselves…” He
mock shuddered. “And it’s two hours long! Who has time for that?”

“Hey, I love shows like that!”

“Do you want to go in there and supervise for me, then?” He rested his elbows on the railing next to her. They weren’t close enough to touch, not quite, but he could still feel her. It was almost as good as the real thing.
Not even close
.

She pulled back and cocked head to look at him. “Feel free to tell me to mind my own
p’s and q’s, but why do you need to watch it with her?”

“I don’t know.” He meant that in every way. He had no clue what was appropriate parenting for a ten-year-old. He didn’t know why he couldn’t relax about the new custody arrangement.

He definitely couldn’t remember why he’d banned himself from dating.

“Susan—my ex-wife—called me on not pulling my weight a couple of years ago. It’s been a rocky path back to what we have now.
With both of them. And it still feels like I’m in precarious waters.” It was more than he’d shared with anyone, and he shocked himself even as he opened up further. “There’s only so much selfish that one is allowed in a lifetime, and I’ve used up my allotment.”

H
er gaze was steady and pressing. He could feel it even though he still stared straight ahead. She let the silence hang until he filled it, a trick he used all the time and didn’t expect to fall for, but she had him off-kilter. She had him wanting to explain. To justify.