him to excuse himself. Homework seemed like family time. But before he could say anything, Jason patted the chair next to him and offered a winning smile.
“I have to finish my calendar for summer. I wrote something about each of the months. Wanna hear?”
Nash glanced from the boy to Stephanie who gave him a shrug, as if to say it was his call. When he looked back at Jason, the boy pulled the chair out a little.
What the hell, Nash thought. He crossed to the table and took the seat.
“So your calendar is only three months long,” he said.
“Uh-huh. We did pictures. See—I colored fireworks in the sky for July, coz that’s when it’s the fourth and we always go to the park for fireworks.”
Jason opened a large folder and withdrew a folded sheet of construction paper as he spoke. Nash admired the crayon depiction of fireworks, then bent close to see what Jason had written underneath.
“It’s a poem,” the boy said proudly. “The teacher said we could copy it from the board if we wanted. I can read it to you.”
The last sentence sounded more like a question than a statement. Nash nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”
Jason cleared his throat, then read the poem. When he was finished Adam quietly pushed a spelling list toward him.
“I got ’em all right,” he said in a low voice.
Nash studied the word list, and the big A at the top of the paper.
“You did great. There are some big words here.”
Adam beamed.
The twins pulled out more papers and talked about their homework. When they’d explained everything they had to do, they started the work. But it wasn’t a silent process. They asked questions, shared each step, bickered over the pencil sharpener and asked for more snacks, another glass of milk or even water. Stephanie kept gently steering them back to their assignments.
“They’re usually more focused than this,” she said as she pulled food out of the refrigerator. “The last couple of weeks of school are always crazy.”
Nash remembered what that was like—the unbearable anticipation of an endless summer with no homework. Being here with the boys reminded him of a lot of things. How he and Kevin were supposed to do their homework as soon as they got home, but with their mom out working, there was no one around to make sure it happened. Nash had always done his, but Kevin had usually ducked outside to play. Later, when their mom got home, they fought about it. Nash had retreated to his room to get lost in a book.
As he glanced at the three bent heads, he realized he didn’t have any children in his life. No kids of friends, no neighbors with little ones running around. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent any time with a child. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them; they simply weren’t a part of his world.
Had someone asked him what it would be like to spend an hour or so with three boys, he would have assumed time would go by slowly, that he would feel awkward and restless. But his usual underlying sense that something was wrong seemed to have faded. The twins were friendly enough and while Brett obviously didn’t want him around, Nash understood enough of what he was feeling not to mind. When Nash had been his age, he’d done exactly the same thing.
Stephanie came over and put her hand on Brett’s shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
Nash wasn’t sure that was true. Brett hadn’t written anything on his paper in nearly ten minutes.
Stephanie smiled at Nash. “Brett is in an accelerated math group. He’s already starting on algebra, and it’s a little tough. Unfortunately I was never a math person. Still, he’s way better at it than me.”
Brett winced. “Mo-om, I’m doing fine.”
“I know, honey. You’re doing great.”
Nash glanced down at the open book. “I remember algebra,” he said.
She drew her eyebrows together. “Let me guess. You were a math person.”
“Sorry, yeah.”
“Figures.”
“The thing I always liked about it was the rules. Once you learn them, you keep applying them. Things need to happen in a certain order, otherwise you get the wrong answer.”
She shook her head. “That would be me. The queen of the wrong answer. It was all that do-this-first stuff that made me crazy. Why can’t you just do an equation from left to right, like reading?”
“You can. Sort of. Like this problem here.” He pointed. “You do what’s in the parentheses first, then go from left to right.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s how the steps work. If you’re building a model car and you glue down the hood before you put in the engine, it’s not going to look right.”
She groaned. “Is this where I tell you I can’t put a model together, either?”
Brett tapped his pencil on the table. “Can I have my book back, please.”
“Sure.”
Nash handed it over. At that moment Adam claimed his attention to discuss what color green would do best on his mountains for his report on Wyoming. As Nash checked out the various options, he saw Brett read the first problem again, then start writing on his paper. When he’d finished his calculations, he plugged the answer back into the original equation and quickly solved it. His wide smile told Nash that he’d gotten it right.
Nash handed Adam a colored pencil, then caught Stephanie’s eyes. She mouthed “thank you.” Apparently she’d picked up his attempt to help Brett without actually helping. Her gaze darkened slightly as several emotions skittered across her face.
He tried to read them, but they came and went in a heartbeat. He was left with a sense of sorrow, as if she had something she regretted.
Of course she did, he told himself. Everyone did. Regrets were a part of life. But for the first time in a long time, he wanted to ask another person what was wrong. He wanted to learn more about her, to understand what she was thinking. He wanted to connect.
His interest was more than sexual and that scared the crap out of him. Feeling—getting involved—would be a disaster.
He told himself to get out of there right now. To leave before he got trapped. Before it was too late. But even knowing it was wrong to stay, he couldn’t seem to force himself to stand and walk away.
It was just a couple of hours, he told himself. What could it possibly hurt?
Chapter Four
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 that he 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.