Название: Adding Up to Marriage
Автор: Karen Templeton
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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“You mean you weren’t always this … this …”
“Uptight?”
She lifted her hands. Whatever.
“No,” he said on a soft laugh. “But I’ve gotten so used to who I am now, I guess I’ve forgotten what it’s like to drape cloths over the dining room table and pretend it’s a fort. Used to make my mother batty. Especially the time we used her best lace tablecloth.”
“I bet,” Jewel said, giving the now-bare kitchen table one final swipe. “Speaking of mothers … do the boys ever see theirs?”
The unexpected question made his breath hitch in his chest. “She died in a car crash when the boys were very little,” he said quietly. “Not long after our divorce.”
“Ohmigosh …” Spinning around, Jewel pressed her hand to her mouth, then lowered it. “How awful,” she whispered. “Do they even remember her?”
“Ollie does, a little. At least he thinks he does. But Tad was still a baby.”
“Oh. That accounts for …”
Silas tensed. “For what?”
“Why you’re so protective of them,” she said gently. “And no, that’s not a criticism, anybody in your position would be.” She leaned across the counter and touched his wrist, only to remove it almost before it registered. “You’re obviously a really good dad, Silas. But man—” her eyes twinkled “—you’d be a pain in the butt to live with. There,” she said, surveying the much cleaner kitchen, a big smile on her face. “All fixed. Although I have to say my own place—well, Eli’s, I suppose—never looks half this good. Suzy Homemaker, I’m not.”
Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. “I never could understand how people could live in clutter. Noah and Eli shared a room when we were teenagers—I think my mother was ready to call the HazMat team at one point.”
“Sounds like Noah and me would get along great, then,” she said, and he glared at her, which got another shrug. “Driving myself nuts trying to keep a place clean when it’ll only get messy again simply isn’t a big priority. And it’s not like I’ve got the kind of wardrobe that needs padded hangers. Or any hangers, for that matter. I’m not dirty,” she said to his appalled expression, “but I’m the only one living there. Nobody comes to visit much, so if the mess doesn’t bother me, who cares?”
Silas’s eyes narrowed slightly. Did she even hear the loneliness weighing down her words? A loneliness he might not have even noticed if his own hadn’t been all up in his face that night, whispering insane ideas in his ear, like … like maybe they could use their respective loneliness to their mutual advantage—
The idea caught him so short he actually had to grab the edge of the counter. Fortunately, Jewel had bopped back into the living room to continue straightening, so she missed it. Whew.
Silas swiveled unsteadily on the stool to watch her righting pictures, putting lamps back, as it struck him how little he actually knew about her. Except for whatever floated in Tierra Rosa’s ether, like a free-for-all wireless signal. “You have any family nearby?”
“My mother’s in Albuquerque, but we don’t see each other much. Haven’t seen my dad in years. Or my stepdads, for that matter.”
“Stepdads?”
“Dos,” she said holding up two fingers. “One’s in Denver, the other’s in Montana. Or Wyoming. I forget which. Both remarried. No, wait, the one in Denver is divorced again. I think. Can’t keep track, don’t really care.”
Although she still periodically flashed smiles in his direction as she talked, her “chipper” was definitely fading fast. So when she bent over to gather the boys’ cars—affording Silas a nice, long look at a rather appealing backside, actually—he said, “Forget it, if the boys dragged all that stuff out here, they can clean it up tomorrow before school. Besides, you’re obviously exhausted.”
She straightened, stretching out the muscles in her back. “And it won’t drive you insane in the meantime?”
“Yes. But that’s my problem, not yours.”
Laughing, Jewel dumped the cars she’d already picked up, a moment before headlight beams streaked through the frosted glass insets alongside the front door. She went to gather her jacket and purse—both somewhat long in the tooth, Silas noticed—and it occurred to him she probably wasn’t exactly raking it in, doing what she did. Not that he was, either, but the ends tended to overlap more than not. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, digging out several bills.
“Here,” he said, laying the cash on the counter. “This is for you.”
She turned, frowning at the money as if it was foreign currency, before aiming the frown at Silas. “Excuse me?”
“For watching the kids. Cooking my dinner.” When she stood there, gawking at him, he added, “If nothing else, consider it hazard pay.”
Her face went bright red. “Ohmigosh! I was just helping out! Being a good neighbor! I c-can’t.”
She said, eying the money like it was a candy bar and she’d given up chocolate for Lent.
“And I’m sure you don’t want to make me feel bad, like I took advantage of you. Please, Jewel. Take the money.”
Her gaze flicked from the money to him, then back to the money. “You sure? I mean … maybe we could come to some sort of other arrangement.” When his brows lifted, she said, “Like you helping me with my taxes or something.”
Which, since he doubted she had pension plans and investments and the like to sort through, would probably take him ten minutes. Tops. He got up, scooped the bills off the counter and walked over to her, pressing the money into her palm, and her hand was warm and soft and strong all at once and he liked the feel of it in his way too much. Sad. “Doing your taxes is a given. Now get out of here before Patrice wakes the entire town with her horn honking.”
For a long moment, their gazes tangled. Damned if he didn’t like that way too much, too. Which was even sadder. “You’re nuts, you know that?” she said with a little smile, stuffing the cash in her pocket. Then she yanked open his front door and fled.
No kidding, he thought, locking the door behind her, closing his eyes for a moment to embrace the peace left in her wake before yielding to the temptation to eat another cookie.
Or two.
Why Jewel’d resisted letting Silas pay her, she had no idea. Wasn’t like she couldn’t use it. In fact, she could squeeze two weeks’ worth of groceries out of forty bucks. If she was careful. Especially since a lot of Patrice’s clients paid in produce and homemade canned goods, and Patrice shared.
Although, she mused when her mentor dropped her off back at Eli’s after their appointment the next morning, and she picked up the mail and there was the utilities bill sneering at her, unfortunately the СКАЧАТЬ