The Doctor and the Single Mum. Teresa Southwick

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      Her gaze narrowed on him. “You do realize what kind of money is involved?”

      “In spite of my less challenging career choice, I did make it through medical school. I can do the math.” He looked around at the living room with fresh flowers and more than one oval-framed needlepoint sampler. “This is charming. And the cost is not a problem.”

      “All right, Doctor—”

      “If my personal check isn’t satisfactory, I’d be happy to stop at the bank for cash or a cashier’s check.” He took a pen from her desk and signed the agreement. After handing it back he said, “You’re going to be my landlady. It’s time you started calling me Adam.”

      Adam.

      Stone.

      The name suited him, Jill thought. He was immovable like a rock. A tall, good-looking rock.

      The man was her worst nightmare and he was settling in upstairs. The moving truck had brought his stuff and then rumbled away a while ago. On paper he was the perfect tenant. A doctor. Gainfully employed at Mercy Medical Clinic. He came from a prominent family. And the hefty check he’d given her had cleared the bank. Probably soared more than cleared. There was that prominent, wealthy family. But the doctor gig no doubt paid pretty well without help from the folks. That was the business part of her talking.

      From Jill’s personal perspective, he couldn’t have been worse. Young. Too handsome for her own good. He reminded her of the actor who had played the most recent Captain James T. Kirk in Star Trek. She had a crush on that actor, and now his clone was living upstairs. Even worse, she liked him. He was funny and charming. Damn him.

      None of that was even a problem—until he left. And he would. Like she’d told him, they all left. She should be used to men walking away from her by now, but apparently one never quite got the hang of having one’s hopes crushed into dust. It still smarted. But she was a big girl and understood what was going on. Her son was just a little boy and she wouldn’t stand by and allow a good-looking tenant to trample on C.J.’s feelings again.

      Speaking of her son …

      Jill pushed away from her desk and rubbed her eyes after looking at a computer screen for so long. This economics assignment for her online class had taken more time than anticipated. “C.J.?”

      There was no answer and the house was too hushed and silent. He was a six-year-old boy, not a cat burglar, and quiet wasn’t hardwired into him.

      “C.J., are you hiding?” She stood, then listened for the giggling, a clue there was an unannounced game under way.

      The only sounds came from overhead—faint footsteps and a thump. Doctor Dazzling was putting things away. Should she offer to help? Not if she was smart.

      She walked down the hall to her son’s room, which was where she’d last seen him, playing with action figures now abandoned on the beige area rug. His bed was made, the lumps and bumps in the superhero spread evidence of the small hands doing the big job. The boy attached to those hands was nowhere in sight.

      “C.J.?” Jill opened the closet to make sure her mischievous little man wasn’t playing with her.

      The interior looked as if a clothing and toy store had thrown up. When he was ordered to put his stuff away, this was where C.J. stashed everything. But if he were hiding in here, there would be giggling and wiggling. His skill level for holding still was on a par with keeping quiet.

      Now she was starting to get concerned. He couldn’t maintain the cone of silence for very long, but sneaking out of the house without being heard was something he was pretty good at. If he’d left the premises, she knew where to find him.

      She walked over to her desk, picked up the phone and hit speed dial. It rang several times before the man who worked her marina business on the lake answered. “Blackwater Lake Marina and Bait Shop.”

      “Brewster? It’s Jill.”

      “Hey, boss. What’s up?”

      “Tell C.J. it’s time for him to come home. And he’s in big trouble.” She half sat on the edge of her desk.

      “I’d be happy to except he’s not here.”

      Her stomach knotted with worry. “Are you sure? Maybe he sneaked in quietly. You know how he loves to jump out and scare you.”

      “That’s a fact. But I’ve been out front all afternoon straightening up. No way he could get by me.”

      “Okay. Thanks.”

      “You want me to look for him?”

      “No. I’m sure he’s in the house somewhere. Bye, Brew.”

      No need to panic. This was probably a new unannounced game, something he did frequently. But from the moment he was born she’d used all her senses to keep tabs on her little guy, and sight was the one that brought her the most comfort. Seeing him safe and sound always made her breathe a sigh of relief. She badly wanted that sigh now.

      Overhead she heard more footsteps followed by another thump. Her eyes narrowed as a thought formed. “He wouldn’t dare—”

      Jill walked out her front door and turned right, then went up the stairs and knocked on her new tenant’s door. Moments later he opened it and smiled. Her stomach boomeranged down to her toes and back up. It had happened the first time she saw him, but she’d been sure the reaction was a one-time deal and was now under control. Apparently it needed some more work.

      “Hi,” he said. “What’s up? Do you need more money?”

      “Not until next month.” In spite of the niggling guilt she smiled. Might as well be friendly. No way she could avoid dealing with him. “Are you settling in okay?”

      “Yeah. Thanks for asking.” His gaze sharpened a fraction as he studied her. “Is something wrong?”

      Jill figured either he was superobservant, or she should never try to improve her financial situation by playing poker.

      “Actually,” she said, “I was wondering if you’d seen my son.”

      “Is he about this high?” Adam put his hand about C.J.’s height. “Curly red hair? Wearing jeans, sneakers and a Spider-Man T-shirt? Looks a lot like you.”

      “A perfect description. That means you’ve spotted him recently.” The knot of anxiety in her stomach loosened.

      “Yeah. He’s been helping me put things away.”

      “You should have sent him home.” The anxiety snapped back, but for a different reason. “He knows better than to pester our renter.”

      Adam folded his arms over his chest. There was something so blatantly masculine in the movement that her mouth went dry. Until that moment, Jill hadn’t considered how long it had been since her last date. Apparently too long. Might be time to do something about that.

      “By ‘knows better,’ do you mean he had specific instructions not to come upstairs?”

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