Dear Cupid Read online

Page 21


  “Vaudeville?” Mike dug into his brisket. “Sounds cool.”

  “Ya think?” Dylan’s eyes brightened as he looked up at Mike.

  “Absolutely. I love vaudeville shows nearly as much as the Three Stooges and old Marx Brothers movies. They’re fun.”

  “That’s what my teacher, Miss Marshall, says. She says she likes family acts best, like Eddie Boy.”

  “You mean Eddie Foy?” Mike asked. “I’ve heard of him. Didn’t he have a whole bunch of kids who performed with him?”

  “Yeah.” Dylan’s shoulders slumped as he stirred his potato salad and coleslaw together. “Some of the cool kids at school decided to do something like that. Jason’s dad said he’d play Eddie. They all think they’re such a big deal, just because Jason’s dad plays in a band. Sounds pretty dorky, huh?”

  “Dylan, really.” Kate’s smile grew stiff. “We don’t need to talk about the play.”

  “It’s okay,” Mike said, wondering why Kate seems so uptight all the sudden.

  Dylan poked at his food, refusing to look at him. “I asked my dad if he’d do something with me.”

  “Oh?” Mike glanced uncomfortably from Dylan to Kate. She sent him an anguished look, apologizing with her eyes. But apologizing for what? “Dylan,” she said quietly. “Try some brisket.”

  Dylan heaved a big sigh, ignoring his mom. “My dad said no. He’s real busy, though. You know, doing important stuff.”

  If Mike hadn’t already decided Edward Bradshaw was an A-1 asshole, the dejected look on his son’s face would have done it. “You know,” he said, “if I had a son as neat as you, I’d find the time to be in your play, no matter how busy I was.”

  Dylan’s head shot up, and the look of wonder shining from his eyes squeezed Mike’s chest. “You—you mean it?” Dylan whispered. “You think I’m a neat kid?”

  “Absolutely.” Mike nodded.

  “Only”—Dylan lowered his voice even more—“what if I wasn’t your kid? Would you still want to be in a play with me?”

  Mike glanced at Kate, hoping for guidance, but she stared back at him with such horrified fear, he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to say yes or no. “I—” He hesitated. Then glanced down at Dylan’s hopeful face, and caved. “I’d love to do a skit with you, I mean if your mother says it’s okay.” He added the last hastily, in case he’d answered wrong.

  “Too cool!” Dylan kicked his feet under the table. “Since you make movies, we could do something really big, like blow up the whole stage. Ka-pow!” He motioned with his hands as if his plate of barbecue had exploded. Then he turned to his mom. “Isn’t that neat, Mom? Mike’s gonna be in my play.”

  One look at Kate’s furious eyes, and Mike knew he’d done something really wrong.

  Chapter 21

  KATE stared straight ahead as she drove away from the location shoot, so furious, she feared she snap. How could Mike have blithely made a promise to her son she knew he’d never keep? Beside her, Mike sat sideways, listening to Dylan, who sat in the backseat, chattering on about everything they’d seen and done that day. With each mile that passed, her nerves stretched tighter. Did the man have no concept of what a huge deal this was for Dylan? She wanted to kill him.

  Just before they reached Lakeway, Dylan’s excitement finally turned to exhaustion and he fell asleep mid-sentence. Chuckling softly, Mike turned toward her. “I was wondering when his battery would wear down.”

  “Children don’t have batteries,” she said in a flat tone. They weren’t robots. They were made of blood and bones and tender feelings.

  “No, of course not.” He frowned at her, obviously confused by her brusque behavior. “I appreciate your giving me a lift home.”

  “Don’t mention it.” She tried to shrug but the gesture barely moved one shoulder. “After all, I couldn’t very well have left you stranded there, now could I?” Especially after Dylan had practically insisted Mike ride with them.

  “I could have ridden back with Frank,” he pointed out.

  “I told you,” she said with strained patience, “it’s not a problem.”

  He drummed his fingertips on the armrest. “Look, Kate, you’re obviously mad at me, so would you mind explaining why?”

  She glanced in the rearview mirror to check on Dylan. The boy was dead to the world, but this was hardly the time or place for her to tell Mike she didn’t want him anywhere near her son—that Dylan had been hurt enough, and she refused to stand by and let him get hurt again.

  She reached for the radio as a distraction. Mike placed his hand over hers before she could turn it on, and the gentleness of his touch was almost her undoing.

  “Kate,” he said softly, so as not to wake Dylan, “would you please talk to me?”

  She pulled her hand away. All she had to do was make it to his house, tell him good-bye, then never see him again. The thought made her throat tighten.

  “It’s about the play, isn’t it?” he persisted. “What did you want me to do, tell him no?

  They passed through the entrance of Lakeway and she gave thanks. Just a few more blocks.

  “Come on, Kate,” he pleaded, barely above a whisper. “You saw how he was looking at me. There’s no way I could have turned him down. And I did tell him I’d only do it if you said it was okay.”

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered back, no longer able to keep silent. “Thank you so much for making me the bad guy.”

  “What do you mean?” He shook his head. “Are you saying you’re not mad because I agreed to do the play, but because I said I’d only do it if it was okay with you?”

  “I’m mad at you for both.” She glanced in the rearview minor to be sure Dylan was still asleep and lowered her voice even more. “Now, no matter what happens, he’s going to be hurt, and it will be my fault.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “Don’t you see?” Exasperation strained her voice. “If I say no now, he’ll be angry and disappointed and he’ll blame me for days. But if I don’t interfere, he’ll be crushed when you let him down, and then it really will be my fault because I didn’t interfere when I knew I should. How could you do this to him?”

  “What make you think I’m going to let him down?”

  “Because I know your schedule!” She fought not to shout. “You’ll do one rehearsal, maybe, before reality sets in and you beg off.”

  “I’m not going to let Dylan down.” He scowled as if offended. “All you have to do is agree to let me do the skit, and the problem is solved.”

  She tightened her hands on the steering wheel as she turned onto his street. When she reached his house, she braved the steep driveway to park in the shade, then lowered the automatic windows to catch the evening breeze. Without a word, she got out of the car. Mike followed suit. Neither of them spoke until they reached the protective overhang by his front door.

  “Are you coming in?” he asked.

  “No.” She glanced toward the car where her son slept. “I just needed to talk to you away from radar ears.” She took a deep breath. “Mike, I want you to call Dylan tomorrow and tell him you can’t do the play.”

  He pulled back as if she’d struck him. “Are you forbidding me?”

  “No. I just—” She folded her arms tightly against her. “You and I both know you don’t have time to be in an elementary school play.”

  “I’ll make time,” he said with absolute conviction.

  She stared at him, baffled by the determination stamped into every line of his face. For a moment, she almost believed he would do it. Wanted to believe. Only— “Why would you go to so much trouble for Dylan? You barely even know him.”

  “Maybe I’d like to know him. And what better way than to spend some time with him one-on-one?”

  “This is more than just spending time with him.” She flung her arm toward the car. “You just promised a seven-year-old boy you’d get up with him in front of all his friends and their parents and do what amounts to a father-son skit. How dare you pr
omise such a thing!”

  “Maybe because he asked me.”

  “You had no right!” She balled her fist. “You’re not his father, and you never will be.”

  “Well, I could be,” he insisted. “If you’d quit throwing barriers between us.”

  The words knocked her back a step. “Oh, my God,” she whispered as the fear that had swirled inside her all day swelled upward like a tidal wave. She shook her head. “Please don’t say anything else. Don’t ruin things, Mike. Please? Everything is perfect the way it is.”

  “No it’s not. I’m frustrated as hell because ...” He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “I happen to be in love with you. There, I said it. I am madly, passionately in love with you.”

  “No.” She stepped back. “That’s not true. You only think you love me because you’re looking for a wife and I happen to be handy.”

  “No, Kate, the truth is I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you in L.A.”

  “That can’t be. You hired me to ...” Looking away, she tried to get her bearings as memories whirled through her head. “You lied to me. Right from the beginning. That whole nonsense about wanting a wife was a lie. Wasn’t it?”

  “The part about wanting a wife wasn’t a lie. I just never told you that you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry.”

  “And why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Would you have gone out with me if I had?” He reached a hand toward her, but stopped short of touching. “Kate, you gave me no choice. Right off the bat, you made it obvious you’d turn me down if I asked you out. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. You’re so damned scared of getting hurt that no man stands a chance with you.”

  Turning her back, she stepped away. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for something so ridiculous as helping you find a wife.”

  “All right, I lied.” He came up behind her and she closed her eyes as he rested his hands on her shoulders. “That doesn’t change how I feel. I love you, Kate. I want to marry you.”

  A painful laugh shook her chest. The tender words and the yearning with which they were spoken sounded so tempting, yet so horribly familiar. “Why? Because you want a wife for hire and I happen to be the nearest available female?” Shaking her head, she faced him. “I made the mistake of being a convenience once. I refuse to do it again.”

  “Convenience?” His brows shot up. “Is that what you think you are to me?” He laughed. “Trust me, Kate, you are anything but a convenience.”

  “What else am I supposed to believe when you claim you fell in love with me on sight, then propose marriage after you’ve known me all of three weeks?”

  “What does that matter? Is there some rule about how long it takes to fall in love? One year? Two years? Ten? Why can’t it happen the instant two people meet?”

  “I don’t know!” She shook her head, wishing she could think. “Maybe it does happen that way for other people, but not for me.”

  He looked genuinely baffled. “Why not for you? Aren’t you worth falling in love with at first sight?”

  “Would you stop!” Every word he spoke tore at old wounds, making them bleed anew. She felt trapped between past and present and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. “Why are you always pressuring me?”

  “I’m not pressuring you.” He reached for her, as if he wanted to hold her. “I’m just trying to understand.”

  “Well, there is nothing to understand.” She stepped away. “Except that we’re finished. I mean it this time. I don’t want to see you again.”

  His face went blank as he stared at her. She stood for a moment, unable to move. By sheer force of will, she made her body turn, forced her feet to take a step toward the car.

  “Wait a second.” He caught her arm. “You can’t just walk out on me like this. We’re good together. You’ve got to see that. All I’m asking is for you to give us a chance.”

  “I’m sorry, Mike, I can’t.” She pleaded with him to understand all the things she couldn’t begin to put into words. “I just can’t.” After an agonizing moment, she turned and walked away, her legs shaking all the way to the car.

  “Mom?” Dylan said sleepily when she closed the door. “Are we home?”

  “Not yet, baby.” She forced herself to smile even though her lips trembled. “Go on back to sleep. We’ll be home in a minute.”

  She cast Mike one last apologetic look before she started the car and backed out of the driveway. Tears rose up in her throat as she drove. If she didn’t cry or scream soon, she’d shatter into a million pieces; and this time she wasn’t sure she’d be able to put the pieces back together.

  When she reached the driveway to her cabin, blind impulse made her continue up the hill toward Linda’s house. She needed a friend to tell her she’d done the right thing, even though she felt as if she’d just torn out a part of herself and thrown it away.

  Gathering her sleepy son into her arms, she let herself in the house without bothering to knock.

  “Linda!” she called, her heart pumping fast and hard. As she rounded the corner to the kitchen, she found her friend standing before the freezer holding a carton of rocky road ice cream.

  When Linda turned and saw her, she dropped the ice cream on the counter and rushed forward. “Kate, what is it? What’s happened?”

  “Michael Cameron just told me”—she lowered her voice to a fierce whisper—“he’s in love with me.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Linda exclaimed, then frowned. “Isn’t it?”

  “No!” Kate nearly wept. “It’s terrible.”

  “Why?” Linda shook her head as Kate carried Dylan to the couch and laid him down. “Kate, here, come sit down before you fall down.” Linda guided her over to the breakfast bar. “Now, tell me everything that happened.”

  “I don’t know what happened. Everything was going fine. Mike and I were”—she glanced at Dylan and lowered her voice—“ ‘no strings attached.’ No talk about the future. And then out of the blue, he brings up the L-word.”

  “And?’ Linda coaxed. “What did you say?”

  “What do you think I said? I told him I never wanted to see him again.”

  Linda held up a hand in the manner of an adult reasoning with a child. “He said he loved you and you told him to jump in the lake?”

  “Basically, yeah.” Kate sniffed.

  “I’m not sure I’m following this.”

  “Don’t you understand? He said he wants to do the M-word!”

  “Oh, well, it all makes perfect sense now.” Shaking her head, Linda went back for the rocky road and pried off the lid.

  “I’m not ready to get M-ed,” Kate tried to explain. “Not again.”

  “Why not? Because you made a bad choice the first time?” Grabbing two spoons, Linda held the ice cream out to Kate so they could eat right out of the carton. “How do you know Mike isn’t the right choice?”

  “Because he’s looking for a wife.”

  “So?” Linda frowned.

  “So how do I know he’s attracted to me and not just the idea of getting M-ed?”

  “From the smile you’ve been wearing the last couple of weeks, I’d say the attraction was pretty genuine, and very mutual.” Linda wiggled her brows suggestively.

  “Well, yeah, I mean, there is that.” Kate blushed as memories swirled through her mind. “But how do I know that will continue?”

  Linda nodded in thought as she savored a spoonful of rocky road. “I guess you could do what you tell everyone else to do—listen to your gut. What does it say?”

  Kate frowned as she dug out a spoonful of ice cream with a shaky hand. Everything inside her told her that Mike was genuine. He was also caring and giving and wonderful with Dylan. “It’s just happening too fast. How do I know he’s serious? And even if he is, how do I know it will last?”

  “Heck if I know.” Linda smirked. “At the moment, I wish I’d told Jim to jump in the lake when he asked me to marry him.”<
br />
  “What?” Kate nearly dropped her spoon. “Good heavens, Linda, you can’t mean that.”

  “Oh, yes I can. You wouldn’t believe what a jerk Jim is being over this baby. He didn’t object at all when I told him I wanted to start a family, but now that it’s too late to go back, he spends all his time in that dang shop avoiding me. I swear, I’m going to burn the thing to the ground. If he didn’t want this baby, why didn’t he just tell me?”

  “Linda.” Kate gaped at her friend. “I told you that’s nonsense—”

  “No, I’m serious.” Linda stabbed at the ice cream with her spoon. “He’s changed his mind about having a baby, but doesn’t have the guts to tell me.”

  “Just because he’s acting strange doesn’t mean he doesn’t want the baby. Men just have a different way of dealing with things—”

  “They certainly do. And they have the gall to say we’re the illogical ones.” Linda waved her full spoon for emphasis. “Like the way Jim makes me feel as if getting pregnant was all my fault. As if I got this way by myself. Can you believe that?”

  “Of some men, yes. But Jim’s not like that. Surely.”

  “Oh, yes he is. You know, now that I think of it, maybe you have the right idea, Kate. Maybe we should avoid the cretins completely.”

  “I didn’t say that—”

  “You know what I think?” Linda took a bite of ice cream. “I think we’d all be better off if we divided the world in half and made all the men live in their camp, while we lived in ours.” Linda licked her spoon with relish as she continued. “Of course, they’d all be living in caves and running around naked within a week. That is, if they didn’t starve to death, since there wouldn’t be anyone around to cook whatever meat they dragged home.”

  As if on cue, Jim came up the stairs, his heavy bootsteps waking Dylan. “Hi, baby,” he said to Linda, removing his tool belt. Linda gave Kate a see-what-I-mean look as he skirted her and headed straight for the Crock-Pot. “What’s for dinner?” He lifted the lid. The tangy scent of lemon and thyme rose with the steam. “Oh, man, don’t tell me we’re having chicken again.”

  “No.” Linda jerked the lid out of his hand and slammed it back down on the pot. “I’m having chicken. You’re having sawdust!”