Nash stayed through dinner. Stephanie had no idea why, nor could she decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing. The man was nice enough, the twins already adored him even though Brett remained standoffish. She appreciated the opportunity to converse with an adult for a chance. So the situation should have been a big plus.
Except she didn't know what was in it for him. Why would a good-looking, intelligent man want to hang out with her and her kids? She opened the refrigerator and put the milk and butter back in the door, then frowned. That didn't sound exactly right. Nash's appearance and mental state didn't have anything to do with her confusion. Why would any man not be running for the hills? Weren't guys supposed to hate other men's children in a relationship? Not that he had any designs on her. Despite the fact thathe made her long for satin sheets and champagne, she doubted he saw her as much more than an efficient hostess. After all, her luck just plain wasn't good enough to hope for more.
So why had he stayed? Why hadn't he retreated to the quiet and privacy of his room or gone out somewhere for dinner? You could ask, a small voice in her head whispered.
Stephanie nearly laughed out loud. Sure she could, but that was so not her style.
“We're done," Brett said.
She turned around and saw that the table was indeed cleared, the dishes scraped and neatly stacked by the sink and the table wiped off.
“Very nice job," she said. "Everyone finished his homework, right?" Three heads nodded earnestly.
She smiled. "Then I guess this is a TV night.”
“All right!" Brett pumped the air with his fist. The twins tore out of the kitchen. She heard their footsteps on the hardwood floor and was able to guess their destination.
“Stop right there," she yelled after them. "We have a guest. Use the TV upstairs."
“Why?" Nash asked from where he leaned against the counter.
She turned toward him, ignoring the continual sexual impact of his presence. Not only did she not want to make a fool of herself, but there was still a minor in the room. "The downstairs TV is for our guests." He gave her a slow, sexy smile that could have melted the polar ice cap. "I'm not much of a TV watcher. It won't bother me if it won't bother you." Stephanie figured she wasn't going to fight the point. If the man wanted to be generous, her kids would be thrilled. She smiled at Brett. "Looks like this is your lucky day. Go tell your brothers, and keep the volume down." Brett grinned and raced down the hall. "We can stay down here," he yelled.
“Simple pleasures," she said as she turned toward the sink. "If only life stayed that easy."
“Complicated comes with growing up," Nash said as he also approached the sink. He was closer so he got there first.
As she watched, he turned on the water and began rinsing dishes. Just like that. He even used the sponge to clean off the worst bits.
Stephanie wanted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming. He was helping again. Helping. Without being asked, without complaining. Just doing it. – Some of her confusion must have shown on his face because he looked at her and asked, "What's wrong?" She wiggled her fingers toward the dishes. "You don't have to do that."
“I don't mind." He didn't mind. Wow. Every time she had asked Marty to help, he'd howled like a wet cat, then had a list of fifty reasons why he couldn't. However hard she pushed, he pushed back harder. He threatened, cajoled, or had a temper tantrum to rival a threeyear-old's. His goal had been to make the experience so miserable that she would stop asking. Eventually it had worked.
“So who trained you?" she asked. "I happen to know that most men aren't born being so handy around the kitchen." He finished rinsing the dishes, then opened the dishwasher and began placing them inside. "I was married for a while, but most of my 'training' as you call it, came from being raised by a single mom. She worked a lot of hours and came home beat. I pitched in to help." Wow times two. "You give me hope," she said. He straightened. "In what way?" For once her reaction wasn't about sex. "You seem like a great guy. Successful, articulate, not a serial killer-at least not as far as I can tell. You didn't have a father around, either. So maybe my boys will turn out okay, too." He gave her another slow smile. "They're going to be great. You're doing a terrific job with them.”
“I try."
“It shows." The compliment left her feeling flustered and fluttery. She had to clear her throat before she could speak again. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened in your marriage?" He put the last three glasses into the dishwasher. "Tina passed away a couple of years ago.”
“I'm sorry." The words were automatic. She figured Nash was in his early thirties, which meant his wife would have been around the same age. What would have taken such a young woman? Cancer? A drunk driver?
“What brought you to Glenwood?" he asked. "Or are you a native?" The not-so-subtle change in subject ended any thought she had of actually asking her questions. "Dumb luck," she said.
Nash picked up the dishcloth and rinsed it, then started to wipe off the counters. She was nearly dumbstruck. Rather than stand around with her mouth open, she forced herself to get the detergent out from under the sink and pour some into the dishwasher.
“We always moved around a lot," she said, trying not to stare as he finished up with the counters. "Marty had wonderful ideas of fun places to live and we wanted to experience them all." Not exactly the whole truth, she thought sadly. This was the made-for-TV version of her marriage. The one she told mostly everyone. Especially her children.
“We spent eight months living in a forest and nearly a year working on a ranch. There was a summer on a fishing boat and a winter in a lighthouse." Nash leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. "With the kids?"
“It was a great experience for them," she said, trying to sound enthusiastic when all she felt was tired. "They have great memories." All good ones. She'd done her best to ensure that. Whatever her feelings about her late husband might be, she wanted Brett and the twins to remember their father with a lot of love and laughter.
“I experienced worlds I didn't know existed." And would have happily died in ignorance of, giventhe choice. She pushed the Delay button on the dishwasher, setting the start time for midnight.
“I'd homeschooled Brett through third grade, which went well. He's very bright. But Marty and I were worried about socialization. We knew it was time to settle down." It hadn't exactly gone that way, she remembered. Marty had wanted to keep moving, but she'd demanded that they settle. Despite having an eightyear-old and four-year-old twins, she'd flat-out told him she would leave him if necessary. The previous winter Adam had spiked a 105-degree fever while they'd been stuck in the godforsaken lighthouse. With a storm raging around them, there'd been no way to get to the mainland and a doctor. She'd spent thirty-six hours in hell, wondering if her son was going to die. In the dark hours before dawn, right before his fever finally broke, she'd vowed she wasn't going to live like that anymore.
“As luck would have it, the day we arrived in Glenwood we got word of an inheritance. We fell in love with the town right as we found out we had enough money to buy a place and settle down." She offered a practiced smile. "This house was on the market and we couldn't resist. It was the perfect opportunity to have both a home and a growing business." Nash glanced around at the remodeled kitchen. "You've done a great job."
“Thanks." What she didn't tell him was that there was a mortgage on the old Victorian house. She also didn't mention the fights she'd had with Marty. There'd been enough money to buy a regular house outright instead of this place, but that had been too boring for him. As the inheritance had come from his side of the family, she hadn't felt she was in a position to argue too much.
“It was all coming together," she said. "We closed escrow and started the remodeling. The boys started school. We were just settling into the community when Marty passed away." His dark gaze settled on her face. "So it's been a while."
“About three years. Marty was killed in a car accident."
“Leaving you with three children. That had to be tough." She nodded slowly because agreement was the expected response. It's not that she'd wished Marty ill, and she certainly hadn't wanted him dead, yet by the time he was killed, any love she'd ever felt had long since died. Only obligation had remained.
“Brett mourned the most of the boys," she said. "The twins were only five. They have some memories and Brett tells them stories, but it's not very much. I wish they had more." She meant that. What did it matter if Marty had refused to grow up and be responsible? He was still the boys' father. She wanted them to remember him as fun and loving. To think the best of him.
“You're doing great," he said. "They're good kids."
“No potential serial killers?"
“Not a one."
“I hope they're okay. I worry about them growing up without a father. I was an only child, so my experience with boys was limited to those I knew inschool. I'm trying to encourage the whole 'be macho' thing, while still keeping them on this side of civilized."
“You mean no spitting indoors?" She shuddered, then grinned. "Exactly. No spitting, no writing on the walls, no dead animals' skins."
“Pretty strict rules." One corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "How about a couple of skulls?”
“Animal or human?"
“Does it matter?"
“Of course. Animal is fine, as long as they're small and we bought them from a store. I want clean skulls."
“Typical girl. Dirt is fun."
“Easy for you to say. You're not stuck doing the vacuuming." Nash dropped his hands to his side and took a step toward her. Just one step, but her breath caught as if she'd just climbed a mountain. He was closer. Much closer. The light mood their conversation had created suddenly thickened. Air refused to flow into her lungs. She felt hot, shivery and more than a little out of control.
When his eyes darkened, she told herself it was a trick of the light, nothing more. It had to be that, because thinking that Nash might also be feeling some flicker of sexual attraction was more than she ever hoped for. It was also outside the realm of possibility.
She wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to kiss her. She wanted to rip off her shirt and bra, baring her breasts. Surely that would be enough of a hint. Not that he would be interested in her breasts. She'd had three kids and parts of her were not as perky as they once had been. Miracles could be worked with an underwire bra.
So she could just rip off her shirt and leave the bra on. Still a good hint for him.
Right, she thought with humorous resignation. He would respond by ripping off his shirt, too, right after he wrote her that check for a million dollars.
“I don't want to keep you," she said at last. It was the mature thing to say. The right thing. How disappointing when he nodded.
“I'll see you in the morning."
“I'll be the one baking," she said, keeping her voice light.
He smiled, then walked out of the room. She allowed herself a last look at his rear, then pulled out a kitchen chair and sank onto the seat.
She had to get a grip. Yes, the attraction was nice. The quivery feelings reminded her that she wasn't dead yet. All delightful and completely meaningless messages when compared with the fact that men were nothing but trouble and getting involved with one would make her an idiot times two. Oh sure, she'd heard rumors that there were male members of the species who were actually helpful, responsible and on occasion behaved like partners, but she'd never experienced it firsthand. What were the odds of her encountering one at this point in her life? Even more important, what were the odds of her encountering one in someone who made her hormones belly dance in supplication?
“Is he gone?" She looked up and saw Brett entering the kitchen. "By 'he' I assume you mean Nash?" Her twelve-year-old nodded.
“He went up to his room." Brett pulled out a chair and sat next to her. "Why's this guy hanging around?"
“Maybe he's a film producer doing research on the perfect American family." Brett rolled his eyes.
Stephanie grinned. "Do you have a better answer?"
“No, but it's totally weird."
“I think it's nice. Don't forget, he fixed our very temperamental washer. The piles of laundry stretching to the ceiling and I are grateful." She touched Brett's shoulder. "You helped him with that. I thought you liked him." Her son shrugged.
What was going on? Did Brett feel threatened by Nash in some way? Stephanie hadn't dated since Marty's death. Maybe having another guy around made him feel as though his father was being replaced.
“Hey, don't sweat it," she said, leaning close and wrapping her arms around him. "Nash is a guest here. Which means his home is somewhere else and he's going to be leaving us in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, he's nice, he cleans up after himself and I like having another grown-up to talk to. Nothing more. Okay?" As they were alone, Brett burrowed into her embrace. He'd reached the stage where he didn't allow hugs and kisses in front of other people, but when it was just the two of them, he was still her little boy. Sort of.
He raised his head and looked at her. "Do you still miss Dad?" She studied his dark blue eyes and the mouth shaped just like Marty's. "Of course I do. I loved him very much." Brett nodded, as if reassured.
Stephanie told herself that under the circumstances, the lie didn't matter. Her first responsibility was to make her children's world as safe and stable as possible. A dark stain on her conscience was a small price to pay for that.
The teenaged waitress stared at the four men at the table. "I'm new in town," she told them, "but I have to tell you there's something pretty amazing in the water. You're Haynes brothers, aren't you? I recognize you from what I've been told. Every one of you is tall, dark and delicious. You guys all married? Anyone want my number?" Nash was less surprised by the unsubtle come-on than he would have been before meeting Travis and Kyle Haynes. Kevin had arranged for the four of them to meet up for lunch. Even if he hadn't known about the relationship between them all, he would have guessed something was up the second he saw them.
The four men were nearly identical in height and build. Their dark hair was the same shade and the shapes of their eyes and mouths were similar. Travis and Kyle were a few years older, but still obviously related.
“Thanks, but not today," Kyle said as he took the menus from the young waitress.
“Your loss," she said.
“Probably, darlin', but you should stick to guys your own age."
“What about the stuff they say about older men knowing their way around a woman?" Kyle grinned. "All lies."
“Why don't I believe you?" She gave a sassy wink, took their drink order and headed off. Kevin shook his head. "Friendly girl." Travis Haynes unrolled his paper napkin and set his flatware on the table. "Our family has something of a reputation in this town. Four generations of Haynes men have had their way with a large percentage of the local female population. The four of us have tried to change things, but that sort of legend doesn't die easily."
“Apparently not," Nash said. He looked at his twin. "We don't have a reputation in Possum Landing. We must have been doing something wrong."
“Or right," Kyle said. "Being good with women isn't something to be proud of. Now being a good husband and father-that's a hell of a lot more important."
“Agreed," Travis said. He looked across the table at Nash. "Are you settled in?"
“Yeah. I'm staying at a B &B on the other side of town."
“Stephanie Wynne's place," Kyle said. "Her oldest boy is friends with my oldest son." He smiled. "It's a small town. There aren't many strangers and even fewer secrets." Travis passed out the menus. "Everything's good here. I'd recommend the burgers, but then I'm a man of simple tastes." Kevin looked at Nash, then back at Travis. ''We're not exactly sushi eaters ourselves." Kyle leaned forward. He and his brother wore identical khaki uniforms. Travis's name badge proclaimed him sheriff, while Kyle's said he was a deputy.
“Are you two finding this as strange as we are?" Kyle asked.
“Discovering family after all this time?" Nash opened the menu, then closed it. "We had no idea our father had any other children."
“It was one thing to find out that our best friends were actually half brothers," Kevin said. "But when Gage told us about all of you, I was surprised." The waitress reappeared with their drinks. All the men had ordered iced tea. She took their orders-four burgers, hold the onions, and fries, then disappeared.
“There are five of us," Travis said. His dark brows drew together in a frown. "We have a half sister--Hannah. She works at the sheriff's office, too. She's in communications. Her mother is Louise, who-" He shook his head. "This is going to be confusing as hell."
“Talk slow," Kevin said.
Kyle chuckled. "Travis is good at that-what with being mentally challenged." Travis turned to his brother. "I can still take you."
“With what army?" Their playful banter reminded Nash of his relationship with Kevin. Warm, affection and constant.
"There are four Haynes brothers," Travis said.
“Craig's the oldest. He lives in Fern Hill with his wife, Jill, and their five children." Nash had taken a drink of his iced tea and nearly choked. "Five?" Travis grinned. "We have a lot of kids. I'm married to Elizabeth. We have four girls. Next is Jordan. He's married to Holly. They have three girls."
“I'm the youngest boy in the family," Kyle said. "I'm married to Sandy. We have five kids, too. Four girls, one boy. Hannah's our half sister, through our father, so she's your half sister, as well. She's married to Nick. They have two girls." He turned to – Kevin. "You and Haley are staying at the B &B Nick owns with Louise, Hannah's mother." Nash set down his glass. "I'm never going to keep this straight."
“It'll get easier with time," Travis said. "There's also Austin Lucas, who isn't officially one of the Haynes men. He's sort of an adopted member of the family. He and his wife, Rebecca, have four kids, three boys and a girl."
“Wait until we start telling you which kids are from a previous marriage," Kyle said.
Kevin held up his hands. "I don't think I want to know." Nash tried to do the math to figure out how many people could show up at the dinner that night, but lost count somewhere after twenty.
“That's a lot of family members," he said. "Kevin told me your father doesn't live around here." He shook his head. "I guess he's our father, too. I don't think of him that way yet." Kyle and Travis glanced at each other. "He's in Florida with wife number six or seven," Travis said.
“I've lost count. None of us stay in touch with him."
“Why?" Kevin asked.
“He's…" Travis hesitated. "He wasn't a great father to us." Nash leaned forward. "Don't worry about offending us with anything you say about him. As far as Kevin and 1 are concerned, Earl Haynes is just a guy who got a seventeen-year-old virgin pregnant and then walked out on her."
“That was Dad's style," Kyle said quietly. "He was chronically unfaithful. He and his brothers believed that if they slept in their own beds at night, that was about as good as it had to get. They didn't worry about details like being true to one woman or giving a damn about their kids."
“We wanted to be different," Travis told them. "Each of my brothers and I knew how unhappy we'd been and we were determined to keep history from repeating itself. After three generations of bastards, we wanted to make something of our lives, to get involved with our wives and kids. To be good men." Kyle chuckled. "To have daughters."
“Why would that matter?" Nash asked.
The waitress arrived with their burgers. Once they were served, Kyle reached for the mustard in the center of the table.
“Until Travis and Elizabeth got married," Kyle said, "there hadn't been a girl born to a Haynes man in four generations."
“Not counting Hannah," Travis said. "We didn't know about her." He glanced at Nash.
“Right. Okay, no girls except for Hannah."
“Travis and Elizabeth had a daughter. Then Sandy and me, then Craig and Jill," Kyle said. "Holly and Jordan were next. He's the one who came up with the theory."
“Which is?" Kevin asked.
“Haynes men can only have girls when they're in love with the woman."
“That's crazy," Nash said.
“There's a lot of female Hayneses running around," Travis pointed out. He nodded at Kevin. "Just you wait until you and Haley are having kids." Kevin grinned. "I look forward to our children, whatever their gender."
“Good," Kyle said, "Because you're probably going to have a lot of them."