An Imperfect Match / Next Comes Love. Kimberly Van Meter

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СКАЧАТЬ the innocent act, Collins. I know you too well.”

      Dana’s nose wrinkled at the use of her maiden name but she didn’t deny that something had been percolating in her brain. Yet she couldn’t help but add in a rush, “He’s single, very available, not to mention good-looking. Doesn’t get better than a Halvorsen. They’re good, honest—”

      “Not interested,” Annabelle stated firmly, interrupting Dana’s Halvorsen PR spiel. “He’s my boss. In other words—”

      “Off-limits,” Dana finished for her. “I know.”

      “I knew you’d understand. I just can’t go there. I’m over my quota for stupid moves and I’m not about to start adding the mistakes of my mother to my own.”

      “You’re not your mother,” Dana said. “You know I loved her even more than mine but she was terrible when it came to guys. It’s a wonder there weren’t more like Buddy in and out of her life.”

      And, by proxy, mine. Annabelle shuddered at the thought of her mother’s last boyfriend.

      Evil, drunken bastard. That about summed it up. Trailer trash, Annabelle added, unable to help herself even in the privacy of her own head.

      “He’s still in prison, right?” Dana peered at Annabelle anxiously and Annabelle gave a short affirmative jerk of her head.

      “Yeah, but he’s up for parole in a year,” Annabelle answered, adding with as much humor as she could muster in light of the subject matter, “I’m hoping he’ll meet the business end of a pointy object before that happens. Prison, I hear, can be a dangerous place.”

      “Are you worried he’ll come after you?”

      Annabelle scoffed, but her insides quivered. “Of course not. He’d be the biggest idiot on the planet even to come near me. I wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him.”

      “You don’t own a gun.”

      Annabelle sent Dana a short look. “I’d buy one.”

      Dana chuckled. “I bet you would.”

      Shaking off the memory with visible effort, Annabelle returned the conversation to Dana and Sammy and their plans to remodel the little house they’d bought.

      As Annabelle knew she would, Dana quickly warmed to the subject and soon her own troubles were forgotten as she simply enjoyed the company of her good friend and the quiet satisfaction that she’d secured a job without having to resort to cocktail waitressing, as she’d feared.

      And she pushed all thoughts of Buddy King far from her mind.

      THE NEXT DAY Dean got to the office early in hopes of being gone by the time Annabelle arrived, but, as often happened, the minute he stepped into the small building, he got distracted and wasn’t able to get out before she arrived.

      He grimaced as the door swung wide and Annabelle, carrying Honey, walked inside loaded down with various baby items. The look on her face was vaguely apologetic, but there was a hint of defiance as well.

      “Let me guess. Dana was called into work unexpectedly,” Dean said as he removed what he’d learned earlier was the playpen apparatus from her shoulder. She smiled briefly in thanks and he tried not to enjoy the feelings it sparked. “Do you need some help finding a babysitter?” he asked.

      “I don’t feel comfortable letting just anyone watch my baby,” she said and he jerked against the subtle rebuke. “She’s no trouble. Besides, Dana is coming at lunch to pick her up for me.”

      Dean thought of Beth and how protective she’d been of Brandon. In fact, he remembered Beth setting up a playpen for Brandon in nearly the same spot Annabelle was setting up a space for Honey. He sighed, realizing his argument was petty and if Beth were here, she’d agree that Honey, as young as she was, needed to be with her mother.

      “She can stay,” Dean said. “But since I’m guessing this could become a habit, I might as well child-proof the office.”

      “You don’t need to do that,” she protested softly, distress in her expression. “I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not safe. You don’t want to keep her in that pen all day, do you?”

      “No, I suppose not.” Her face broke out in a surprised yet gentle smile. “Thank you.”

      “Don’t mention it.” He resisted her attempt to take the playpen from him and made quick work of setting it up for her. Seemed these kinds of things hadn’t changed all that much since Brandon was a baby. “Beth was the same way. Never felt comfortable leaving Brandon with anyone.”

      She gave him a smile, uncertainty hovering at its edges, and placed her daughter inside the playpen. “So, you have just the one son?”

      Dean nodded. “One seemed like enough. Beth had troubles. We didn’t want to risk it.”

      “What kind of troubles?”

      Dean shifted, hating the memory of those longago scary days when he worried that he might have to choose between his wife and his unborn child. “Ah, a bad case of placenta previa. Brandon was sitting right over Beth’s…” His cheeks colored a little. “Um, cervix. It never got better like in some cases and we didn’t know it because back then they didn’t do scans routinely like doctors do now. They both almost died during the birth.”

      “That’s awful. I can understand your reluctance to try again.”

      “Yeah.” He almost said that Beth had been willing, but he figured he’d shared enough on that score. He gestured to Honey. “The dad in the picture?” he asked bluntly, needing to know for some reason.

      Annabelle met his gaze and answered without flinching. “No. Being a daddy didn’t appeal to Thad beyond the novelty. It’s just me and my girl. And we like it that way.”

      The way her chin tilted up, as if daring him to say something, made him want to smile, but he controlled the impulse. The woman had pride. He understood that. “So, he’s not bound to show up in Emmett’s Mill wanting to play house again, right?”

      She shook her head. “No. Thad was relieved when I told him we were leaving.”

      If Annabelle felt a flicker of sadness at her failed relationship, she hid it well. Dean wondered what kind of partner she’d been. He sensed she’d put everything she had into it, giving up only when she felt the relationship was a lost cause. She was a trouper, he could feel it.

      But there was more to Annabelle Nichols than just her steel backbone and it was that other aspect of her that bothered Dean the most.

      Without conscious effort, she exuded a sultry sensuality that echoed in her husky voice, making him shudder in a most uncomfortable manner. Everything about her was lush—from her sweet-smelling hair to the firm, wish-you-could-touch-them breasts barely contained by her too-tight tops.

      Today she wore a sundress, faded by many washings, but still pretty. Honey wore a newer outfit in a matching sunny yellow with a floppy hat that she was now examining with quiet diligence, and Dean realized that Annabelle СКАЧАТЬ