wasn’t wearing a ring. He hadn’t noticed one before, but he hadn’t paid much attention and didn’t trust his memory.
“I’m sorry about dinner,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, it’s okay.”
She lifted her gaze to his and he saw a touch of sadness in her blue eyes. Because they couldn’t have dinner? He had no way of knowing.
It didn’t matter. Things were now changed. Lizzie was no longer simply a beautiful woman he was attracted to. She was a mother. A woman with the responsibility of a child. A family. Something he had only vague memories of and no plans to have for his own.
But his curiosity was getting the better of him, even though he now saw her in a new and very different light. “How old is she? Your…daughter.”
“Four.” She glanced around the crowded gym as if she were looking for the way out. “Maybe we should leave.”
Nodding, he slipped the towel from his neck. “I’ll grab that shower and meet you at the car. Unless you want to wait for me here?”
She shook her head. “I’ll go on and let Bailey know you’ll be out soon.”
All he could do was nod again and head for the showers. The fact that she was a mother didn’t make her less attractive. It made her more attractive because of his curiosity. But if she was married—No, he was certain she wasn’t. She would wear a ring. Wouldn’t she?
It took him less than fifteen minutes to shower and change, then he met Lizzie in front of the building, where Bailey waited with the limo. Still wondering how to handle the change in circumstances, he climbed in to take the seat across from her. Bailey slid behind the wheel and the car merged into the traffic.
“We have a full day scheduled tomorrow,” Lizzie said without looking at him. “The apartment is furnished and will be ready to move into. I’ll explain the details later so you don’t need to worry. You’ll be able to move in first thing in the morning. Do you have your belongings stored somewhere, or do you plan to send for them?”
Thinking of his meager collection of belongings stowed in the dilapidated pull-behind trailer he’d lived in for years, he couldn’t think of a single thing he hadn’t brought with him that would suit a sub-leased apartment. “I won’t be needing anything.”
“I’ll let Bailey know we need to pick you up around eight in the morning.”
Checking his watch, he realized it was earlier than he thought. So what was he supposed to do with himself for the rest of the evening? He hadn’t made any plans.
“I thought we were on some kind of accelerated schedule,” he reminded her.
“We are,” she agreed, “but I always spend at least one evening a week with my daughter, whenever possible.
He was hesitant to ask the next question, but he had to know the answer. “I understand, but what about her father? Couldn’t he take her, considering our schedule?”
She was silent for a moment. “She doesn’t have a father,” she said in a voice so soft he nearly missed it.
Hank let her remark sink in before asking the next obvious question. “Does that mean you don’t have a husband lurking in the shadows, ready to clobber me if I step out of line?”
“No, no husband.”
Her direct gaze spoke volumes. She was a single woman. A single mother. Even though his memories of his own mother had faded with time, he had an idea of what it took to be a mother. Time. Lots of time. And money. He suspected that wasn’t something Lizzie had an abundance of, in spite of appearances.
“You said you have family here in Kansas City,” he said, steering the conversation in a different direction.
Startled, she turned to look at him. “Why, yes. There’s my mother, my sister and brother.”
“Older or younger?”
She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “My sister is six years older, married, with two children. My brother is attending college.”
“Sounds like a nice family.”
“It is,” she answered with a soft, loving smile that struck his heart. But her smile vanished. “I—I wasn’t the easiest daughter to raise.”
He saw pain clearly reflected in her eyes and heard the sorrow in her voice. It was another view of her that caused him to wonder why. “It happens to a lot of people,” was all he could say.
They rode a few blocks, both lost in their own thoughts, and an idea began to form in Hank’s mind. He really didn’t want to spend an entire evening alone in his hotel room, and he wasn’t in the mood to sightsee. “Where are you and your daughter having dinner? Maybe you could both teach me which fork to use.”
Lizzie’s laughter was so soft, he barely caught it. “The last time I checked with Emily Post, pizza is eaten with the fingers.”
“Pizza? Hey, I love pizza! But some people do eat it with a knife and fork.”
Eyes narrowing, she cocked her head to one side and looked at him. “Are you by any chance hinting at an invitation?”
He knew he should be ashamed or even a little embarrassed. He wasn’t. “So can I come along?”
Her laughter rang out clear and loud in the padded and plush interior of the limousine. “I doubt you’d want to spend an evening eating pizza with a four-year-old. There are times she would try the patience of a saint, even though she’s usually an angel.”
He didn’t doubt that for a minute, not with Lizzie for a mother. And he didn’t know why he felt this need to join them, other than not wanting to spend the evening alone, staring at a television screen in his hotel room. He had often spent evenings watching TV in his trailer. It wasn’t something as simple as nervous energy, either. He’d spent that in the gym. No, it had to be curiosity. What kind of woman really existed beyond what the eye saw? What was her story? He had heard all kinds, so nothing would surprise him. And what kind of mother was she? He hadn’t expected this added twist. And although it ought to put him off, it made everything even more intriguing.
“Kids don’t bother me,” he said with a shrug. It was true, because he didn’t really know kids. He’d never wanted to be a family man, so he hadn’t been around them much. But he was willing to do it, for the sake of curiosity and to spend a little time with Lizzie.
“I don’t know…”
It was better than a refusal, and her hesitancy gave him the courage to push. “You can explain the sublease to me tonight and save some time tomorrow. I’ll even spring for the pizza.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Then we’ll go Dutch,” he pushed on.
“Well…”
“Good, it’s settled.” He turned and rapped on the tinted glass separating them from Bailey. When the glass came down, he gave the driver instructions. “Drop me off at my hotel, then take Miss Edwards to her home and wait. When she and her daughter are ready to leave, pick them up, and then come by the hotel for me.”
“Yessir.”
Before Hank could remind him that he wasn’t a “sir,” Bailey had raised the window again. Pleased that Lizzie hadn’t interrupted with excuses, Hank leaned back in his seat and studied her. He had to admit she didn’t look all that happy about being railroaded, but she didn’t look like she’d go off like a cannon, either. In fact, she looked more astounded than anything. Fine with him. Whatever it took. Even if it meant spending an evening with a four-year-old.
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