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Hope Smolders

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He might not be able to do anything about her sonofabitch loser of an ex-husband, but he could definitely do something about her having some fun.

CHAPTER THREE

Two algebra classes in a row always made her brain tired, but Jane lived for math, even if her students didn’t jump for joy over quadratic equations.

Her next class was basic math, so she’d get a breather, though she had a couple kids in this class who needed one-on-one help. They were skating the edge of failing and she’d be damned if she’d let that happen.

If a kid didn’t give a crap, she’d work with him or her and try to explain what it would mean to fail her class. She’d push and prod, and often, the kid would come around. Sometimes it wouldn’t matter, and no amount of cajoling and notes and phone calls home to parents would change the kid’s attitude. And attitude was so prevalent in this age group, where hormones came into play. There was so much to juggle at the early high school age. Boys and girls noticed each other, so you had burgeoning sexuality to deal with along with surging hormones.

So fun.

But God, she loved these kids, this awkward age she remembered so well from her own years in the gawky teens.

It hadn’t gone so well for her, so she tried her best to pave the way for those not born with perfect genetics.

After she went through the work with the entire class, she worked with Susie and Robert. Robert was more amenable to the one-on-one instruction. Susie was the balker. She was in foster care, her dad had never been in the picture, and her mom was in and out of jail for drugs. Jane’s heart went out to Susie, who hadn’t had an easy life since birth. Born addicted, she had some learning disabilities, but the kid was tough. Jane was determined to see her make it, despite all the strikes against her. She gave Bobby a worksheet and went through the simple math problems over and over again until Susie was frustrated.

“You want to pass this class, don’t you, Susie?” she asked.

Susie just shrugged a shoulder, affecting her typical “I don’t care” attitude as she stared at the worksheet.

“I think you’re really smart and you can do anything you set your mind to do.”

“I’m not smart,” she whispered. “I’m stupid.”

Jane so wanted to fold this girl in her arms and give her a huge hug. “You are smart. You have to work harder than anyone else in this entire school, so that means you’re smarter than any of them.”

Her dark eyed gaze lifted to Jane’s. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So let’s show them all how smart you really are. And how tough you are. Don’t fail.”

She saw the tears of frustration shimmering in Susie’s eyes. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all you have to do.” Jane leaned over the worksheet and went over the math problems again. By the end of the class, Susie had gotten them all right. It felt like a triumph. Jane sent another worksheet home with Susie with a note to her foster parents to work on it with her, along with praise for how well she was doing.

It was all she could do, but she knew Susie had a good foster family. They’d work with her.

Her fingers were crossed.

After school, she went and picked up Tabitha and headed to the community center to work at the day-care center. Her dad was going to pick up Ryan and take him to baseball practice.

She wouldn’t have survived the past two years without her parents’ support. They’d pitched in when needed to run the kids to sports or dance if she had to go in an opposite direction. She tried not to lean on them too much, but frankly, she’d have drowned without them.

Tabitha loved the day-care center, so it was no hardship to bring her along. Several of her friends’ parents worked out at the community center, so she got to play for a few hours while Jane watched the kids. At least this afternoon there wouldn’t be any swimming involved and she could hide in the day-care room and not have to parade past the hard-body room.

She traded with Marisol, the other person on duty at the day-care room, checking kids in and out and alternately playing with them. They ranged in age from eighteen months—the minimum age they’d accept—to five years, Tabby’s age. After that, the parents were on their own, which was why she couldn’t bring Ryan.

Another reason she adored her parents. She needed this extra money, as paltry as it was, but working here a few days a week after school would help.

“Hey, Jane.”

She stood at the doorway, which had a door that partially opened from the top only. The bottom half of the door remained close to discourage runaway kids. She had just checked out one of the kids so she was initialing the departure.

She raised her gaze when her name was called, thinking it was the father of one of Tabby’s friends.

It wasn’t. It was Will, whom she hoped she wouldn’t run into again. He made her senses go haywire, and made her remember things she hadn’t had in a very long time.

Things she shouldn’t want.

“Oh. Hey, Will.”

“I thought I saw you come in right before me.”

Her hair was half pulled out of her ponytail since she’d been holding baby James and he was a hair puller. And then he’d wiped his jelly snack all over her left breast. She looked a mess. Once again, Will had on a sleeveless tank and gym shorts, and was tanned, muscled, and gorgeous.

Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

“Yes. Working again.” She turned to see if she needed to make a hurried exit, but there were only three kids in attendance at the moment. Baby James was down in the porta-crib for a nap, and Tabby and her friend were being entertained by Marisol, so Jane was out of luck.

“You stay busy, don’t you?”

She offered him a smile. “You have no idea.”

“Where’s Ryan?”

“My dad took him to ball practice.”

“Yeah? I’d like to watch him play sometime.”

Ryan would adore that. Which meant it would never happen. The last thing she needed was for Ryan to attach himself to some male that he’d use as a substitute for his father. “Yeah. Sure.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come out with me sometime.”

She blinked several times, certain she hadn’t heard him right. “Excuse me?”

His lips curved and, oh, God, when he smiled he looked even sexier. If that was possible. “You’re going to make me ask it again?”

“I’m not sure I understood what you said.”

“Okay, then I’ll say it again. I’d like to go out with you. I’d like you to go out with me.”

“You want to go out with me? Why?”

Two parents had suddenly shown up in line behind him. Will turned around. “Maybe this isn’t the best time. What time to do you get out of here?”

“Uh, six thirty.”

“I’ll come to your house and bring a pizza. We’ll talk about it then, okay?”

“Uh, wait, Will.”

But he was already gone.

Come to her house? Bring pizza? Was he insane?

And he wanted to take her out?

She was living in some kind of alternate universe, because surely that hadn’t just happened.

A guy like Will Griffin did not go out with a woman like Jane. She had issues. Her life was a nightmare. He was single and gorgeous. She had two children.

And apparently he was coming over for pizza tonight. At which time she’d set him straight.

* * *

Okay, so maybe he’d hustled her, but Will figured Jane’s life was all about being busy with her kids and her jobs, and if he didn’t, she’d never say yes.

She still hadn’t said yes, because he hadn’t given her a chance to. But he did pull into her driveway with an extra large pizza at seven fifteen. And her car was visible in the garage, so she hadn’t shut the garage door and turned off all the lights, pretending she wasn’t home.

It was hot as hell, like a typical late August in Oklahoma. And her lawn needed to be mowed and weeded, he noted as he walked toward the front door. She probably did all that herself, too.

Mentally calling Vic a list of very unkind names, he rang the doorbell.

Ryan answered the door. He looked up and studied Will, as if deciding whether or not to let him in.

“Hey, Ryan.”

“You’re Will. I remember you. You used to be friends with my dad.”

He smiled. “I remember you, too.”

He opened the screen door. “Mom said to let you in. That you’d have pizza. She’s in the shower. One of the babies at the gym barfed on her. She smelled really bad.”

He laughed as Ryan led him into the kitchen. “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Tabitha said, taking his hand as he got into the kitchen. “I’m Tabitha and I’m five.”

“Hi, Tabitha. I’m Will.”

“Mom got barfed on.”

“So I heard.”

“I mean really bad,” Tabitha said. “And we had to ride in the car with her the whollle wayyyy hommme.” She scrunched her nose and rolled her eyes.

“You poor kids. I’ll bet it was awful.”

“You have no idea,” Ryan said. “I thought I was gonna barf, too.”

“Can we not say barf anymore, kids? We have a guest who was nice enough to bring us dinner. Let’s try not to ruin his appetite.”

Jane came out of her room and Will’s breath caught. Her hair was wet, long brown strands laying damp against the dark blue T-shirt she wore. Her capris hid those great legs, but God, when she came close she smelled like something sweet—something he wanted to lick. When she passed by, he said, “You smell really good.”

She stopped, paused, and turned to look at him. “Uh, thank you.”

“Yeah, not like barf anymore,” Ryan said.

“Ryan,” she warned. “Why don’t you get the plates out?”

“Okay.”

“Tabby, you’re on napkins and utensils.”

“You mean we have to eat pizza with a fork?” She screwed up her nose as she looked at her mom, her blue eyes and dark hair making her look so much like Jane it was uncanny.

“No, but just in case someone else wants to.”

“Okay.”

“Sorry about that,” Jane said. “I had an unexpected crisis at the gym, as my kids have no doubt informed you in more detail than you’d like.”

He laughed as they made their way to the dining room table. “It’s okay. I’m used to gory detail in my job.”

“What’s your job?” Tabitha asked as she laid the utensils on the table.

“He works for the highway patrol,” Ryan answered.

Will grinned. “You remembered.”

“Yup.”

“What’s the highway patrol?” Tabby asked.

“It’s like a police officer, except I’m in charge of the highways. So if someone’s driving too fast or there’s an accident, I take care of it.”

“Oh. That’s neat,” Tabitha said. “My daddy used to build the highways, until he got hurt on his back.”

“I know, Tabby,” Will said. “I was a really good friend of your daddy’s.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you know where he is? We can’t find him.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I don’t. If I did, I’d sure do my best to bring him home to you.”

She nodded. “Yeah, nobody can find him. It makes Mommy sad.”

Jane looked to Will, then over at the kids. “Hey, how about some pizza?”

“I also brought cinnamon sticks for dessert,” Will said, hoping to deflect the somberness with dessert.

“I love cinnamon sticks,” Tabitha said. “They’re sugary goodness.”

Will laughed. “That they are.”

They ate and Jane went through her obvious routine of asking them about their day at school. Will sat back quietly and listened. She was very good with the kids, knew how to ask the questions so she’d get actual answers other than “fine” or “nothing.” She also engaged Will in the conversation, asking him about his day.

“Did you give out a lot of speeding tickets today?” she asked.

“I gave out a few. I had to assist in some traffic realignment, so that took up part of my day.”

“What’s that?” Ryan asked.

“Sometimes during road construction, they have to shift the way the highway goes, and it changes all of a sudden, so my job is to alert the traffic by parking my car and turning the lights on my cruiser so people driving by know there’s a change in the way the road is going to turn.”

“Oh, so there’s no accident because people are used to a road going a certain way, and then suddenly it isn’t,” Ryan said.

“Exactly.”

“That’s probably pretty boring,” Tabitha said.

“Sometimes, but it’s part of my job, so I have to do it.”

Ryan nodded. “It’s like school. Some of it’s fun, and some parts aren’t, but you gotta do it no matter whether you like it or not.”

Jane’s lips curved. She was hot when she gave that half smile. And he probably shouldn’t be thinking that in front of her kids.

After dinner, the kids were sent to their rooms to do homework, and he and Jane sat in the living room.

“How are your parents doing?” Jane asked.

“They’re great. Enjoying retirement in Florida.”

“I’ll bet visiting them is nice.”

“It is, when I get a chance to go down there. But they’re happy and Dad loves the condo. He says he doesn’t miss mowing the lawn.”

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