Father In Training. Сьюзен Мэллери

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ shook her head and told herself to quit being silly. He hadn’t sounded anything. It wasn’t possible. A man like Kyle wouldn’t be interested in a woman like her. And even if he was, she wasn’t. She wanted a mature, responsible man, not a handsome hunk who probably had women lined up for miles. None of which explained why Kyle had ended the conversation between herself and the other man. Or why he’d specifically told her that Austin was married. Kyle wasn’t jealous. Was he?

      It was a dangerous train of thought. Mostly because her heart hadn’t recovered from its earlier aerobic workout when she’d gone to find her children and had also found Kyle practically naked.

      His chest had been as big and broad as that tank shirt had promised three days ago when she and her kids had arrived. His tan went clear to the waistband of his shorts, and probably lower. The sprinkling of dark hair, the faint outline of impossibly firm muscles and the heat radiating from him had made her palms itch to press against him. She’d wanted to touch and taste and—

      “Mom, how long are you going to stand there staring into space?”

      Lindsay’s question jerked her back to the present. She landed with an emotional thud, then blushed hotly as she wondered if everyone knew what she’d been thinking about. She glanced around frantically. No one seemed to have noticed. Austin and Travis trooped past her carrying ladders, paint cans and drop cloths. Kyle was standing next to her, studying the list she’d posted to the wall detailing the chores that had yet to be done. Only Lindsay stared at her, exasperated.

      “Mom?”

      “I was thinking,” she said quickly, then cleared her throat. “Kyle, this is very nice of you and your brothers, but I really can’t—”

      He turned and smiled. Her heart rate increased. Thank God he was wearing a T-shirt so she didn’t have to deal with his chest again. “Of course you can. Just say `Gee, Kyle, you’re a nice man. Thanks for your help.’”

      “Kyle, you are a nice man, but—”

      He turned and touched his finger to her lips. Electricity shot through her body, starting at her mouth and jolting clear down to her toes. Her blood heated as an unfamiliar longing stirred to life deep inside her belly.

      “No buts,” he ordered. “You can’t do all this work by yourselves, Sandy. We both know that. You can give in gracefully, or you can fight me and look like a stubborn fool. The choice is yours.”

      His eyes were an impossible color. Not black, just a deep, dark shade of brown. Long lashes framed his eyes. He had a straight nose with a small bump on one side. She wondered if it had once been broken. From what she remembered, the Haynes brothers weren’t afraid of a good fight.

      She forced her thoughts away from the man and back to the task at hand. Her children stood around her, gazing up at her hopefully. They’d worked hard these last few days. Unfortunately, Kyle was right. They couldn’t do it all themselves. They’d barely finished the downstairs. There was still the upstairs to clean out, not to mention the painting. Her body ached, her muscles screamed in protest every time she even thought about climbing the stairs. This was supposed to be their summer vacation, and they needed a break.

      “Thank you,” she said at last.

      Lindsay and Nichole cheered.

      “Just because we’re accepting help doesn’t mean we’re not going to work,” she said. “Girls, you know the routine. Start upstairs with the bedrooms. Blake, you come with me and we’ll tackle the bathrooms.” She looked at Kyle. “Travis and Austin are painting. What are you going to do?”

      He winked. “Supervise.”

      * * *

      By five that afternoon, the smell of paint drifted through the house and all of the upstairs had been cleaned. Kyle had done more than supervise. He’d taped off windows, painted the wooden window frames and all the downstairs baseboards. Travis and Austin had finished painting the kitchen and then had moved into the dining room.

      Lindsay dumped the last of the dirty water and leaned against the bathroom counter. “Now what?” she asked, her voice tired, her face flushed.

      Sandy gave her a weary smile. “Now we take a break. There are sodas in the ice chest. Take Blake and Nichole, and go outside and rest.”

      “Can you carry me down the stairs?”

      “I think you can make it.”

      Lindsay started out of the bathroom, then paused. “What about dinner? I’m starved.”

      “I thought about ordering pizza.”

      “Really?” Lindsay’s brown eyes widened with surprise. “But whenever we ask for it, you always say it’s expensive and has no nutritional value. You never order pizza. I only get to eat it when I’m staying with a girlfriend.”

      “I’m ordering it tonight.”

      “Okay, cool.” Lindsay walked down the hall. “Blake, Nichole, come on. Let’s go get a soda. And guess what?”

      Nichole came running out first. “What?” she demanded.

      “We’re having pizza for dinner.”

      Nichole clapped her hands together. “I want three slices.”

      “You can’t eat that much.”

      “I can too.”

      Blake joined his sisters, but didn’t speak. The three of them went downstairs and their voices faded.

      Sandy stood in the doorway of the guest bathroom and stared after her children. Was pizza that big a deal? She tried to remember if she’d ever ordered it for them before. She shook her head. She’d always preferred to cook. It was more economical and nutritious. She’d known Thomas could be counted on to eat junk food when given a chance, and the children didn’t always spend their lunch money wisely, so she’d felt it was her duty to provide a good, wholesome meal at dinnertime. But she didn’t think she’d been so strict about food that ordering pizza was an event worth noting on the calendar.

      Besides, she needed to pay back her helpers, and she was reasonably sure they would accept food while they would be insulted by an offer of money. Thinking of which, things had been quiet downstairs for some time.

      She followed the children down to the first floor. All the windows were open and a sweet breeze blew through the house. Cans of paint had been neatly stacked in the foyer. The drop cloths were folded next to them, and a ladder lay on the floor of the dining room. The house was silent.

      “Kyle?” she called.

      “In the study,” he answered.

      She went down the long hallway beside the stairs. There was a small bathroom behind the living room, then a set of double doors that opened onto a study. She stepped into the room.

      An old stone fireplace with bookshelves on either side filled one wall. Opposite were more bookshelves. Large windows let in sunlight. The room smelled of lemon-scented furniture polish. She and Blake had cleaned all the wooden shelves and paneling the previous day. Only the wall containing the windows was painted. Kyle was on his knees at СКАЧАТЬ