match every bag.
She retrieved her bag from the front hall and set it on the kitchen counter. Wallet, makeup bag, lint roller, dog leash, but no keys. She shoved those items aside and dumped the rest onto the counter. The loose contents included a handful of spare change, two Milk-Bone treats, the tube of lipstick she’d hunted for earlier that morning…and one condom.
She picked it up and stared at it, recalling in excruciating detail Nate McTavish’s embarrassment when he’d realized what he had in his hand. She had been every bit as mortified. Did he think she was one of those women who was always ready for a little action? Ugh. Nothing could be further from the truth. She avoided as many blind dates as possible, and the only action she saw when she did date was never more than an awkward good-night kiss. No condom needed.
Yesterday she had been even more embarrassed when Nate told her about his research. Something about poor reproductive barriers in flowering plants. She still didn’t completely understand what he’d been talking about, even though she’d tried to look it up on the internet last night. He might as well have been talking Greek.
“For sure he was talking geek,” she said, smiling at her own cleverness.
Fourteen years ago she had learned the hard way that at least one brand of condom had provided a very poor barrier to reproduction. Thank goodness she hadn’t revealed that yesterday. Bad enough she’d blurted out some nonsense about sperm. What had she been thinking? His laugh had been a few registers lower than his speaking voice, deep and sexy with a flash of perfect white teeth. He might be a geek, but he was a darned sexy one.
Jenna thundered down the stairs. “Mom? Are you sure you haven’t seen it?”
Kristi shoved the small plastic packet into her bag and hastily put everything else back on top of it. “Have I seen what?”
“My iPod.”
Right. “No, I haven’t.”
“Well, crap.”
“Excuse me?”
“‘Crap’ isn’t swearing, Mom.” Jenna dropped her backpack by the front door and glanced around the living room.
Kristi didn’t have time to argue. “Do you remember what you were doing the last time you used it?”
“No. If I did…” Jenna was halfway across the room when she stopped. “Sleeping! I fell asleep listening to Katy Perry.” She whirled around and dashed for the stairs. “I’ll bet it’s still in my bed. Thanks, Mom!”
“You’re welcome.” Now if only the same strategy would work for her. She had come home from work yesterday afternoon, brought in a handful of mail, picked up the paper…aha, that was it. She must’ve left her keys on the coffee table where she’d deposited everything else.
Sure enough, there they were, under the newspaper. Jenna had flipped it open to check the movie listings, not wanting to wait until Kristi had finished uploading photographs to her laptop so she could check them online. Being a typical teenager, she had used the inconvenience as an opportunity to bemoan the fact that she was stuck with her mother’s retired cell phone instead of the iPhone she so desperately needed.
A car horn sounded in front of the town house and Jenna raced back down the stairs. “That’s my car pool. Gotta go.”
“I’ll be home early,” Kristi said, as much a warning to her daughter that she shouldn’t bring boys home after school. One boy in particular. That strategy would work until next week when school let out for the summer. Then she wasn’t sure how she would do her job and chaperone a teenager who was too old for a babysitter but too young to be left on her own all day.
“See ya later, Mom!”
“We’re having pasta for dinner. If you could make a—” Her request that Jenna make a salad to go with it was cut off by the slam of the front door. She could leave her a note, but Jenna would say she didn’t see it. Better to send her a text message. Teenagers never let a text go unread, and her daughter was no exception.
Kristi opened the door to their backyard patio and shooed Hercules outside. “Go on. Do your business, then I have to get out of here.”
While he was outside, she checked her bag to be sure she had everything she needed for the day, then glanced at her watch. She hadn’t packed a lunch, but if she left now she would only be a few minutes late. Ten minutes, max. She’d have to take a break at lunchtime and run out to grab a bite to eat, and that would waste more time. She opened the fridge and scooped up a couple of bottles of water, an apple and the makings of a cheese sandwich. Now she could work through lunch to make up for not being on time. She took out a plastic container filled with the cupcakes she had baked on the weekend. She hated to see them go to waste, and Nate and his daughters might like them.
“Come on, Herc.” She picked him up when he scampered inside, gave him a scratch behind the ears and set him in his bed. “Keep an eye on Jenna when she gets home. I have to dash.”
Worrying about being late was likely a waste of time, though. Nate McTavish didn’t seem like the kind of guy who paid any attention to the clock. He probably wouldn’t even notice that she was running a little behind.
* * *
NATE POURED HIMSELF a second cup of coffee and settled at the breakfast bar with his laptop. Behind him, Gemmy was sprawled on the family room floor, and Molly and Martha lay between her front legs and her back legs, using her ample girth as a pillow while they watched a daddy-approved program on television.
While he kept an eye on the clock, anticipating the ring of the doorbell, he opened the file containing the first draft of a research paper he was coauthoring with a colleague.
Kristi had said she would be here at nine, and it was now two minutes past. Actually, she said around nine, and it’s not like it matters. He would be here all day.
The doorbell startled him, even though he’d been expecting it. “I’ll be right back,” he said to the girls.
He hotfooted it to the front door and opened it to find his mother-in-law standing there.
“Alice. This is a…surprise.” And yet another affirmation of why he needed to move.
As always her dark clothing reminded him of a military uniform, and the pinched lines around her mouth made him think she needed to smile once in a while.
“These are the pageant applications. I wasn’t sure if you would get around to looking at the website before the deadline.” She handed a large envelope to him. “I know how busy you are.” Her tone implied otherwise.
He didn’t want to get into it with her now, with the girls practically in the next room and Kristi due to arrive any minute. Now he really hoped she got held up somewhere and wouldn’t arrive until Alice was gone. “You didn’t have to go out of your way. I would have—”
“The girls’ photographs are in there with the application forms,” Alice said, cutting him off, saving him having to lie to her. “We had them taken the last time Molly and Martha spent the weekend. The applications have to include full-length poses and head shots. We know how busy you are, so we took care of it.”
Head shots? He resisted the urge to tear open the envelope.
“I can’t stay,” she said. “I’m on my way to have my hair done.”
Her dark silver coif was as smooth as a helmet, not a hair out of place.
He waved the envelope at her. “I’ll take a look at this.” No, you won’t, and you shouldn’t be letting her think you will. He needed to put an end to this insanely inappropriate plan to enter his daughters in a beauty pageant.
“Heather would have been okay with this.” And without waiting for him to reply, she strode down the sidewalk in her no-nonsense shoes, got into her gray sedan and drove away without a backward glance.
He didn’t give a damn what Alice