Father In Training. Сьюзен Мэллери

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      “You don’t know everything,” Sandy said, her voice strained. “There are humane ways to get rid of mice. I don’t want to see it killed any more than you do, but it and its friends cannot live here with us.”

      “The mouse has friends?” Nichole asked.

      Kyle raised his right hand to his face, stuck his thumb and index finger in his mouth, then blew hard. The piercing whistle silenced them instantly.

      “Now that I have your attention,” he said, “will everyone please take one step back and let go of me?”

      Sandy stared up at him for a moment, blushed, then quickly moved away, brushing her hands against her shorts. “Sorry,” she mumbled, obviously flustered. “I guess we overreacted to the mouse.”

      He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to apologize. He’d liked her pressing up against him. It did him good to know she wasn’t as completely in charge as she wanted the world to think. It also evened the score a little. She’d been tying him up in knots since the first time his brother Jordan had brought her home sixteen years ago.

      Something about her had set his adolescent heart on fire and he’d never forgotten her. Still, this wasn’t the time or place to review old memories.

      Kyle glanced around the empty foyer, then at the small mouse that had returned to its nest in the corner by the stairs. “I want to look over the rest of the house before you get to work,” he said.

      Sandy bristled. Her spine stiffened and her hands curled into fists. “I’ve already had the house inspected,” she said, staring at him. “The man told me the building was in excellent condition and that the only problem I should expect would be cleaning up after a lengthy vacancy.”

      Kyle tried to remember if she’d always had this much trouble accepting help. He couldn’t say for sure. Maybe it was something she’d learned while she was gone. “Did he say anything about mice?” he asked.

      She hesitated. “Well, no. He probably thought they were normal for as long as the house has been vacant.”

      “You want to be by yourself when you find out what else this guy considered normal?”

      “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

      He grinned. “So you don’t mind if I check out the rest of the house?”

      Her hands relaxed. “Um, no. Thanks. I appreciate the help.”

      “I’m not staying in here with that,” Lindsay said, pointing at the mouse’s nest.

      “Why don’t you kids wait outside while your mom and I check things out,” Kyle said. The children didn’t budge.

      Sandy looked from him to her kids, then sighed. “Lindsay, take your brother and sister outside and keep an eye on them, please.”

      Lindsay walked to the door without looking back. Blake followed silently. Only Nichole hesitated.

      “Go on, sweetie. I won’t be long. It’s warm outside. Why don’t you go and see if you can find that bluebird again?”

      “Okay.” Nichole smiled.

      She had dimples in each cheek and her mother’s eyes. Kyle felt a slight twist in his gut. Sometimes he got the crazy notion that he should have risked settling down and having kids. He knew better. It was like wishing for the moon. Something to think about when he’d had too much to drink or got lonely, but completely irrational. He wasn’t the type. Long-term relationships didn’t work out.

      When the children had left, Sandy turned to him and nodded purposefully. “Let’s begin in the kitchen,” she said, and turned to the right.

      “It’s this way.” He motioned to their left.

      “But they sent me a floor plan.”

      “Then your floor plan was reversed. The kitchen is through here.”

      “How do you know?”

      “I used to know Kelsey Michaelson. I’ve been in this house before.” He looked at the dust and cobwebs. “But not in a long time.”

      “I see.” She started toward the kitchen.

      “Hold on.” He caught up with her and took her hand. Her fingers were warm against his. She looked startled when he touched her. Good. He would deal better with Sandy if he kept her off guard. “Why don’t you let me lead the way.”

      Her gaze narrowed as she pulled her hand free of his. “Why?”

      “In case we run into something creepy or slimy—or yucky.”

      “All right.” She stepped back to allow him to pass.

      He led her through the empty dining room. The hardwood floors were dirty, but otherwise in great shape. He stopped and bent down. “These will clean up and look terrific,” he said, brushing his fingers against the wood.

      She stopped next to him. Close, but not too close. He grinned. If his instincts were correct, he made Sandy nervous. The thought pleased him.

      “The realtor told me all the floors are in excellent condition,” she said. “I’ve been reading up on refinishing, in case some of them need a little work.”

      “You can’t do that yourself.”

      She planted her hands on her hips. “Because I’m a woman?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Give me a break. I don’t need a man in my life to make things work. I can do it all by myself, thank you very much.”

      He stood up slowly, moving closer as he did. “Not because you’re a woman. Because there’s probably a thousand square feet of hardwood flooring on the first floor alone. It would take you months if you did it yourself, and some of the materials you have to use can smell pretty nasty. You wouldn’t want your children breathing in that stuff for so long, would you?”

      She held his gaze, searching his face as if looking for deception. “That makes sense,” she said grudgingly.

      “And because you’re a woman.” He grinned, then held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just kidding, I promise.”

      A slight smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You haven’t changed at all.”

      “Not enough to matter,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s check out the house.”

      He led the way to the large bright kitchen. Big windows opened onto the side yard and driveway. The curtains looked as if they’d been lunch for a hungry swarm of moths, while an army of ants trooped across the white tile counters. Sandy checked out the pantry and utility porch behind the kitchen, and Kyle opened cupboard doors.

      “I don’t see any signs that your mouse has relatives living here,” he said.

      She paused in the doorway to the pantry. “I won’t ask what you’re looking for.” She folded her arms over her chest. “At least there’s a lot of storage space in the pantry.”

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