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      She didn’t meet his eyes but could feel his gaze boring a hole in the side of her head.

      A rattle of dishes caused her to turn just as Caleb and June ran past the bar stools in a game of chase. With fast reflexes, Megan snatched both of her kids by the arms and pulled them back behind the counter.

      “Hey, you two little imps. What did I tell you about running through the restaurant?” she scolded in a low voice.

      “Sorry, Mommy.” June gazed at her with wide, uncertain eyes. A smattering of freckles stood out across the bridge of her button nose, her blond ponytail bouncing.

      “Yeah, we’re sorry, Mom,” Caleb crowed happily. So much like his father. Too agreeable to really understand that he’d done anything wrong. He just went along with his big sister.

      As Megan smoothed Caleb’s rumpled T-shirt and flyaway hair, she gazed at her children’s sweet faces. Thinking how much they each looked like their daddy. Thinking this was no place to raise two active little kids. During the school week, she had them in an after-school program. But nights and weekends, they were here with her. She spent so little time with them as it was that she wanted them near her whenever possible, even if she had to keep working. Besides, she couldn’t afford a lot of child care. Not on her tight budget. Thank goodness most of her customers were friends and neighbors who didn’t mind seeing her kids in the diner now and then.

      Megan hugged her children close, breathing deeply of their warm skin. A wave of unconditional love swept over her. Just what she needed to dissolve her frazzled nerves.

      “How about if I take you to the park for an hour later this afternoon to play?” she said.

      “You’re not too busy?” June asked.

      Megan shook her head. “I’ll make time. We’ll go once the lunch rush settles down a bit. I’m sure Connie can handle things for a while.”

      “You know I can. You guys go and have a little fun,” Connie said as she whisked by, carrying a tray of food for table number five.

      “That would be fun,” June said.

      “Yeah, and we can play kick ball,” Caleb said. He drew back his leg and kicked the air for emphasis.

      “Okay. We’ll do it. But aren’t you tired now?” Megan asked.

      She’d gotten both kids up at five that morning. As always, they hadn’t uttered a single complaint. Just rubbed their sleepy eyes and trundled out to the truck in their jammies. They’d changed into their street clothes later that morning. Because she practically lived at the restaurant, Megan had created a homey environment for them in the back office, where they could have some privacy to watch TV, color or sleep. But sometimes, they got restless. Like today.

      “Nope, not a smidgen,” June replied, mimicking a phrase her father had often used.

      Megan fought off a rush of guilt. Her kids should be outside, running in the tall grass and swinging in the park. They were just children, after all. This situation wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But they still had to cope.

      “You will be tired, my little June bug.” Megan brushed her index finger across the tip of her daughter’s nose.

      After they’d played in the park, she knew they’d both collapse on the cot she’d set up in the back office. Just in time for another rush of customers wanting their dinner. In the meantime, it was more than difficult to keep an eye on two wriggly children while she was working.

      “Why don’t you go in the back and watch TV for a while?” she suggested.

      “I don’t want to,” June said.

      “Do you want to help me instead?” she asked them, her voice enticing.

      “Sure,” Caleb chirped with a ready nod of his head.

      Megan swept a jagged thatch of hair back from her son’s forehead. “I’ve got two bags of garbage sitting beside the back door. If you work together, you can carry them outside and throw them into the dump. And after you’ve had your lunch, I told Frank to save a slice of fresh banana cream pie for each of you.”

      “Yum!” Caleb gave a little hop and clapped his chubby hands.

      June smiled wide, showing a missing tooth in front. “Okay, Mommy. We’ll do it.”

      And off they went.

      “Cute kids,” the handsome stranger at the counter said.

      Megan glanced his way, feeling pleased, but suddenly self-conscious that he’d overheard her entire conversation. “Thanks.”

      Swiveling on her flat, practical heels, she faced him. Her gaze dipped to the menu, which he hadn’t touched.

      “Thanks, but I don’t need it.” He shook his head, a subtle smile curving the corners of his full mouth.

      She slid the menu into the holder at the side of the cash register. Gripping her notepad and pen, she forced herself to meet his dazzling blue eyes.

      “So what’ll it be, then?” she asked.

      He flashed a magnetic grin. Wow! He had gorgeous blue eyes. Intelligent yet soft, with smile lines at the corners. His sun-bronzed skin told her he liked being outdoors.

      “Steak and eggs, cooked medium rare and over easy. Fire potatoes, two griddle cakes and whole wheat toast with plenty of strawberry jam.”

      Yep, his order was completely masculine, just like him. Coasting on autopilot, she slid a dish of prepackaged jams close to his hand. She jotted some notes, trying to get his order down before her muddled brain forgot everything.

      He gave an infectious laugh. “You sure write fast. Have you got it all? I can repeat it, if you like.”

      “Nope, I’ve got it. Anything to drink?” she asked, forcing herself not to look up.

      “A tall glass of orange juice, please.”

      “Coming right up.” She swiveled around and snapped his order up for Frank.

      Forcing herself to keep working, she fled to the kitchen refrigerator to pour him some juice. She returned and had just set the glass in front of him when little Caleb came running in from the alleyway out back. He tugged on her apron and spoke in a shrill voice.

      “Hurry, Mommy! Fire! Outside,” the boy cried.

      The handsome man sitting at the counter jerked his head up, his eyes widening.

      Wiping her hands on her apron, Megan scurried after her son and muttered under her breath. “What could make this day any crazier?”

      * * *

      The moment Jared Marshall heard the word fire, he was out of his seat. Without a backward glance, he followed Megan Rocklin down the hallway leading to the back door.

      Yes, he knew the woman’s name. He was new in town, but Tim Wixler, his assistant fire management officer, had told him what she looked СКАЧАТЬ