Dear Cupid Read online

  “Maybe not, but Jim has gone without for just as long, so he’s just as miserable as you are.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.” She tweaked Linda’s nose. “In fact, that’s probably why he can’t keep his mind on his work. He’s so hot for you he can’t think straight. So, what you need to do is wait until Dylan goes to bed tonight. Then find something loose but sexy to wear. Put on some perfume, and offer to give Jim a back rub.”

  “Which will promptly put the man to sleep.”

  “Not a chance.” Kate straightened her friend’s bangs. “You are way too sexy to put any man to sleep. Especially one who loves you as much as Jim does.”

  “Oh, Kate.” Linda leaned forward and gave her a tight hug. “Thanks. You always know the right thing to say.”

  “That’s my job.” Kate returned the hug. “Although if you wanted to repay me, there is something you could do.”

  “Oh?” Linda leaned back.

  Kate lowered her eyes, uncomfortable with the sudden role reversal. Giving help was so much easier than asking for it. “Could you ask Jim to talk to Dylan tonight? You know, have him ask Dylan how everything’s going at school and such?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” Kate made a restless gesture with her hand. “I think something’s wrong. Only, Dylan won’t talk to me. Maybe he’d open up more to a man.”

  “I’ll be happy to ask Jim to talk to him, on one condition.” Linda ducked her head to meet Kate’s eyes. “That you quit worrying so much. You are a wonderful mother, Kate. I mean that. I only hope I’m half as good. But sometimes, not always”—she held up her hands—“sometimes, you do get the tiniest bit overprotective.”

  “I know, but it’s so hard not to with Dylan. He’s so small and awkward, I’m afraid the other boys pick on him at school.”

  Linda’s brows snapped together. “Just because someone’s small, doesn’t mean they’re helpless. And the more people try to protect them, the more they’re going to resent it.”

  Kate blinked in surprise, then grinned in understanding. “Are we talking about Dylan here, or you?”

  Linda blushed just as the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” Dylan hollered from the other room.

  Kate jumped to her feet. “Oh, my goodness, he’s here already? Linda, go stall him while I do something with my hair.”

  “Dylan can handle Mike.” Linda laughed. “I’d much rather stay here and watch Cupid be nervous over a first date,”

  “I told you. It’s not a date.”

  “Right.” Linda smiled.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dylan grabbed the door with both hands and swung it open. He expected to find Jim ready to take him to the big house up the hill where he and Miss Linda lived. Tonight, he was going to get to sleep over, so they wouldn’t have to wait up for his mom to come home. And Jim had promised Dylan he could help out in the workshop again. They were building a crib for the baby, but it was a big secret, just between them, ‘cause they were both men, and men shared things that women didn’t know about. Boy, he couldn’t wait to see Miss Linda’s face when they finished the crib. It was really cool.

  Except, instead of Jim standing on the front porch, he found the man who had upset his mother yesterday. His shoulders slumped with disappointment.

  “Hey there, Dylan.” The man smiled. He looked really stupid standing there holding a bunch of dorky flowers.

  “My mother isn’t ready yet,” Dylan replied sullenly. He’d known his mom was going out with the guy, which didn’t make any sense. His mother didn’t even seem to like him. So Dylan decided he didn’t like him either. “You’ll have to wait.”

  “All right,” the man said. They both remained in the doorway, eyeing each other. “Mind if I come in?” the man asked.

  “I guess not.” Dylan turned and led the way inside.

  Raising a brow, Mike followed. He’d accepted the fact that winning Kate wouldn’t be as easy as he’d first assumed, but the last obstacle he’d expected was a seven-year-old boy. The mere fact that she had a son still had him reeling. To realize the kid didn’t like him sent him further off balance. Kids always liked him. And he liked them. This kid, however, obviously required a little more effort to win over.

  Taking a seat on a small camel-back sofa, Mike tried to decide if he should hold on to the flowers or set them on the coffee table. They’d been a last-minute impulse, and one he hoped he wouldn’t regret. Across from him, the boy climbed into a wing chair by the rock fireplace. Neither of them spoke. Mike glanced about for some way to break the ice.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected for Kate’s home, but the rustic cabin had surprised him when he’d driven up. The inside, however, suited her. Wisps of creamy gauze draped about the windows, softening the rough-hewn walls. A rug before the hearth added a homey touch, along with the colorful clutter of children’s toys.

  Family photos and breakable knickknacks marched across the mantel, well out of reach of a seven-year-old’s curious hands. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out faces in the photos as he wondered at the names and stories that went with them.

  “Are you gonna try to poke my mom?” Dylan asked.

  “Excuse me?” Mike jerked his attention back to the boy, sure he must have heard wrong. “What did you say?”

  “Are you gonna try to poke her?” Dylan scowled at him. “You know, with your binky.”

  His binky? From his experience as an uncle, Mike knew “binky” could mean anything from a pacifier to a penis. Somehow he didn’t think Dylan referred to any of the more innocent options. “Who told you such a thing?”

  “Jason,” Dylan responded gravely. “He says guys always try to poke girls when they take them out.”

  “And who exactly is this Jason character?” Mike asked with mounting anger.

  “Jason Haynie,” Dylan answered as if any fool knew who Jason was. “His father plays in a rock band.”

  “Oh, yes, well, I can definitely see how that would make him an authority on dating.”

  Dylan waited a heartbeat. “So, are you?”

  Mike studied the kid, tempted to tell him it was none of his damned business what he and his mother did. That, however, wouldn’t win him any points with Kate or Dylan. And it suddenly occurred to him that, if he did manage to win Kate over, this kid would be his stepson. His stepson! Now there was a thought to unsettle a man. Even one who liked kids.

  “I tell you what.” Leaning forward, he braced his forearms on his thighs and met the boy’s distrust straight on. “How about if I promise not to do anything with your mother she doesn’t want me to do?”

  Dylan considered that for a long time. Mike held his breath, hoping the boy wouldn’t see the obvious loophole in the promise. Finally Dylan’s brow dimpled. “You swear?”

  Releasing his breath, Mike ran his right forefinger over his chest. “Cross my heart and may my hard drive crash tomorrow if I’m lying.”

  Dylan nodded. “I guess it’s okay if you take her out then.”

  Mike struggled not to laugh. He’d thought fathers were a tough gauntlet to pass when picking up a date, but sons had them beat by a mile.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kate said as she breezed into the room.

  “No problem,” Mike answered, rising quickly on a wave of relief. “Dylan and I were just—” He froze as he turned and saw her. Good God, was it legal for a woman to look like that? Like pure desire gift-wrapped in gold silk? With her hair swept upward exposing her neck, he had an instant impulse to lean forward and sink his teeth in for a big bite.

  She stopped short as well, staring at him as if equally startled. Self-consciously, he straightened the Tasmanian Devil tie he wore with a long-sleeved green shirt and black slacks. For one brief moment he almost wished he’d bought one of those damned white monkey shirts.

  “You cut your hair,” she whispered.

  “What?” He stared at her, not comprehending at first.
“Oh, that.” With a shaky laugh, he ran a hand through the shortened strands. Another impulse. “I figured you’d suggest it eventually, so I decided to get it over with.” Feeling awkward and a bit foolish, he lifted the flowers. “Here. I um— Here.”

  “Oh.” Kate went still. Before she could guard against it, a warm tingle slipped past her defenses and lodged in her heart. He’d brought her flowers, a huge colorful explosion of flowers wrapped in tissue paper and tied with a single red ribbon.

  “I didn’t know what you liked,” he said with a shrug. “So I told the girl at the flower shop to give me one of everything.”

  Which was, of course, exactly what she liked, variety, color, and extravagant gestures. “Mike ...” she scolded as she took them.

  “I know, I know,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have brought you flowers because this isn’t a date. So, consider it practice—part of your job as my dating couch.”

  “Oh, well then ...” Her heart softened as she inhaled their fragrance. “I suppose I could take them, for practice.” She tried to keep her face from going soft and dreamy, only she’d forgotten how nice it felt to get flowers from a man, the way it made a woman’s heart flutter. But then, she’d forgotten a great many things when it came to men. The last few years, she’d been an observer, an advisor, but never a participant in romance. She’d convinced herself that life was safer that way, less painful. But now she realized it was also less pleasurable.

  “I’ll, um—” She made a vague gesture toward the kitchen. “Just put these in some water.”

  As she moved toward the sink, she saw Linda come out of the bedroom, all curious eyes and friendly smiles. “You must be Mike Cameron,” she said.

  “And you must be Linda Davis.” He shook the hand she offered. “I recognize you from your business card.”

  “I’m surprised you can. My face wasn’t nearly so round back then. Not to mention the rest of me.” Linda laughed.

  “True,” he admitted with a smile. “You are definitely ... round.”

  “Which does not mean you’re fat,” Kate called from the sink as she filled a vase.

  “Of course she’s not fat.” Mike frowned at her. “I didn’t mean that at all. It’s just that you women always look so ... interesting when you’re ... you know, expecting.”

  “Interesting?” Kate asked, knowing she’d clobber him if he undid the pep talk she’d just given her friend.

  Mike shrugged. “All glowing and maternal, like life-sized fertility goddesses.” His gaze slid from Linda to Kate and moved over her body as if imagining her in a similar state. “Definitely interesting.”

  Heat fluttered low in her belly at the look in his eyes. “See?” She smiled at Linda, fighting to keep her voice from going breathy. “You’re not fat.”

  Linda beamed at Mike. “I don’t suppose you’d mention that part about fertility goddesses to my husband, would you?”

  “Sorry.” Mike laughed. “I’m afraid he’ll have to figure that one out for himself.”

  Settling the flowers in the vase, Kate carried them to the breakfast table. Later she’d let herself get silly over them for an hour or so, arranging them, smelling them, but not now. Not in front of Mike. “Dylan, you be good for Miss Linda, now, okay?” She bent down for a hug.

  “Okay.” He flung his arms around her neck.

  She absorbed the feel of him pressed tight against her body, let it calm the riot of other, more complicated emotions, “I’ll miss you tonight.”

  “I’ll miss you too.” For a fraction of a second, he clung a little tighter, then stepped away to glare at Mike. “Remember what you swore.”

  “Scout’s honor.” Mike held up two fingers.

  Kate frowned over that exchange as they left the cabin and descended to the gravel driveway. The ever-present herd of deer munched acorns under the stand of oak trees that hid the cabin from the road. The orange Corvette presented a jarring contrast to the rustic setting.

  “So,” she asked as Mike handed her into the passenger side. “You want to tell me what that ‘scout’s honor’ business was about?”

  “Not particularly.” Mike chuckled before he closed the door and headed around the hood.

  She watched him covertly, noticing how nice he looked in his new clothes. If only he hadn’t cut his hair, she thought with an inward sigh. It looked more brown than blond with all the sun-bleached ends cut off. The longer hair had given him a rakish appeal that positively begged a woman to run her hands through it.

  Realizing the direction of her thoughts, she pulled them up short and decided she was glad he’d cut his hair. Very glad. She needed to concentrate on doing her job, not indulge in fantasies about running her fingers through Mike’s hair. Especially since that image led to a whole wealth of other fantasies about steaming up the windows of his vintage sports car.

  She forced her mind back to the subject at hand as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Tell me anyway.”

  “Tell you what?” he asked.

  “About the scout’s honor thing.”

  “Naw-ah.” He shook his head and brought the car to life with a twist of his wrist. “That’s privileged information. You know—guy stuff.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes as they pulled onto the road. “And I’m his mother, which overrides any secret male pacts.”

  From the way Mike concentrated on driving, she knew he was doing a quick mental edit of whatever Dylan had actually said. “Basically, he wanted to know what my intentions were.”

  “And you told him ...?”

  His grin turned wicked. “That I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to.”

  “Oh, now that’s reassuring.” And one of the oldest lines in the book.

  “It was to him,” he insisted. “After all, what seven-year-old boy would believe his mother actually wants to do the horizontal boogie?”

  “The horizontal boogie?” Her laugh surprised her, because it came so quick and easy.

  “There.” He nodded in approval at the sound. “That’s better. You should laugh more often.”

  Her smile faded as she became aware of the close quarters in the car and how near his hand on the gearshift rested to her thigh. Physical awareness tingled along her skin. Shifting in her seat, she searched for a safer topic. “Thank you for what you said to Linda.”

  “What, about her being round?”

  “No.” She shook her head at him. “About glowing like a fertility goddess.”

  “And did you glow when you were pregnant?”

  “No, I ate. And ate, and ate.”

  “I’d liked to have seen that.” He said the words with quiet sincerity. “Have you ever thought of having another?”

  “Baby?” she asked, startled, because she had been thinking about that very thing lately. Watching Linda these last few weeks, she’d thought about it a lot. “I used to want one. When Dylan started walking, I used to yearn for another baby to hold and fuss over. They’re so sweet when they’re little.”

  “So, why didn’t you?’

  Because by then my marriage was falling apart around me. Even though I didn’t want to admit it, I knew it was ending. Even back then, I knew. “Another baby would have been a mistake,” she said simply, and felt her heart grieve a little for the children she’d never borne. “Although sometimes I regret not giving Dylan a brother or sister. I had one of each, both older, and have always thought every kid should know that.”

  “Know what?” he asked.

  “The noise and chaos of a big family, friends coming and going, fighting for the last piece of bread at dinner.”

  “Waiting in line for the bathroom,” he added.

  “Ah, you have siblings too.”

  “Three. All girls. All younger.”

  Her eyes widened. “I bet you did wait in line for the bathroom.”

  “I could write a book about it.” They both laughed, and for a moment, his gaze held hers before he turned his attention back to the road. “You know, if you stil
l wanted to give Dylan that brother or sister, I could be talked into helping out.”

  “Sorry.” She shook her head at him. “You can’t. Or have you forgotten you swore scout’s honor to be on your best behavior.”

  “I only swore not to do anything you didn’t want me to do.” He raised his brows at her. “So, what do you say? You want to make a baby?”

  She just laughed, deciding to be amused rather than offended at such a silly proposition.

  Chapter 10

  THE distant strains of music, laughter, and voices caught Kate’s ears the moment Mike opened the door to the Lakeview Inn. The festive sound drew her like an old, favorite song that she’d nearly forgotten. How on earth had a woman who so enjoyed people allowed her life to dwindle to little more than worrying over bills and taking care of Dylan?

  “Sounds like we’ve got a full house already,” Mike said.

  “I thought the party wouldn’t get going till later.” She craned her neck to get a better look at the crowd that spilled out of a door at the far end of the lobby. Beyond them, a wall of glass offered a view of the fading sunset reflecting off the lake.

  “I guess I forgot the schmooze factor,” Mike confided close to her ear.

  “The schmooze factor?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “Anytime there’s a Hollywood director around to schmooze with, you can bet every wanna-be actor and scriptwriter within a hundred miles will be crawling out of the woodwork.”

  “Hey, Magic Man,” someone called as they neared the door to the bar.

  “Hey, Ricky.” Mike raised a hand in greeting as a man in a zoot suit detached himself from the crowd. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

  “You better believe it.” Ricky struck a pose with his thumbs behind his lapels. He had the kind of polished good looks that came more from grooming than genes. “You are looking at one gainfully employed movie actor—even if my first role off the stage is a two-minute bit part.”

  “Even Kevin Wells had to start somewhere,” Mike pointed out.

  “True,” Ricky admitted. “Speaking of, don’t forget you promised to introduce me to him tonight—if he ever shows up. Rumor has it, he’s holed up in his room pampering his voice.”