Valentine Baby Page 13

  “He knows that now, I think,” Nina said soothingly. “He was hurt, Tommy. And angry with fate. He shouldn’t have taken that anger out on Leslie, but I’m sure he’ll be more sympathetic now that he’s had time to reflect. And once he has a chance to really observe her with Kenny, he’ll understand what a wonderful mother she’ll be to that baby.”

  Tom set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, looking closely at his mother. He knew her too well to miss the nuances in her tone, her manner. “Just when did you have all this meaningful dialogue with Pendleton, anyway?”

  “We, er, had dinner together last night. To talk about things,” she added quickly, still looking flushed, her gaze focusing anywhere but on Tom.

  Tom’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t realize he was still in town yesterday.”

  “He’s taking a few days off. He did some sight-seeing yesterday and has tickets for the basketball game tonight.”

  “How did he cop those? That game’s being shown on ESPN. Been sold out for months.”

  “He said he pulled a few strings.”

  “I didn’t realize he had any strings to pull in these parts.”

  “Apparently, he has some prominent business associates in Fayetteville.”

  Tom wondered just how much those influential business associates could have helped Pendleton if the custody battle had gone to court. It was possible, he thought, that he’d underestimated the guy. “I suppose he’s going to the game with one of those associates?”

  Nina cleared her throat. “No...”

  Tom frowned. “Mom?”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m going to the game with Steve tonight.”

  His frown deepening, Tom asked, “You’re spending a lot of time with this guy, aren’t you? Are you doing this just for Leslie’s sake? If so—”

  “It isn’t for Leslie’s sake. It’s for my own. I like him.”

  “So you’re...what? Dating him?” He asked the question a bit facetiously.

  His mother was quite serious when she finally met his eyes and said, “Yes, I suppose I am. At least for tonight.”

  “This is a date?” Tom repeated the word as if he’d never heard it before. “I mean, a real date?”

  “Steve defined it as a social outing between a man and a woman who are attracted to each other and enjoy being together. A date, to be quite specific.”

  He almost asked her if she’d lost her mind. There had to be a dozen reasons his mother should not even consider going on a date with Steve Pendleton. The guy had to be ten years younger, for one thing. And Tom had seen him at his arrogant and domineering worst. Not to mention that it had been because of Pendleton’s threats that Tom had ended up married to Leslie.

  A little voice at the back of his mind asked Tom if it bothered him that his mother was going out with Steve Pendleton—or if the truth was that he wasn’t comfortable having her go out with anyone. She was his mother, for Pete’s sake. And he was still squirming at her mention of “a man and a woman who are attracted to each other.” He didn’t even want to follow that statement to its logical conclusion.

  It was with a great effort that he said none of those things, only “Be careful, Mom, okay?”

  “I’m an adult, Tommy. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself,” she reminded him with a touch of wry amusement at his emotional reaction.

  He believed her. But he still didn’t like it.

  Nina glanced at her watch. “I have to get back to the shop. Lisa has an appointment with her obstetrician and I promised her I wouldn’t be gone long.”

  “Yeah, I have to get back, too. I have several inspections to do this afternoon. I’ll, er, call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  His mother was dating. And dating a man who was less than ten years older than Tom. As Tom walked slowly back to his office, he tried to come to terms with that staggering fact.

  During the past eighteen months, Tom’s life had changed almost faster than he could keep up. First Leslie had left, then he’d been in the accident that had changed his health and his career. Zach and Kim had married. Then Leslie had returned—baby in tow—and Tom had married her. And now his mother had announced in a slightly defiant tone that she was dating, and that, basically, Tom had nothing to say about it.

  He wasn’t at all ready for whatever surprise was awaiting him next.

  Nina sat at the dressing table in her apartment, her face in her hands.

  She should have called Steve and canceled this date. She shouldn’t have agreed to go out with him in the first place.

  Tom didn’t approve. It had been obvious that he thought she was making a mistake—which she probably was. That Steve was too young for her—which he was. Nina was in danger of making a fool of herself over a man—which she had been so determined not to do again.

  Her doorbell rang, and she looked up in panic at the woman in the mirror. She’d taken great care with her makeup, but it hadn’t completely masked the fine lines at the corners of her eyes. Lines carved by laughter and tears, smiles and frowns, worry and joy. She wasn’t ashamed of them, had never considered doing anything to remove them—but she was definitely aware of them tonight.

  She sighed and pushed away from the dressing table, casting one last glance at her outfit of gray slacks with an apricot turtleneck and matching wool blazer. She knew that red was the traditional color to wear to a Razorbacks game, but she had never looked very good in red. Vanity had won out over team spirit this evening.

  It was only a date, she reminded herself. She’d been on them before, though rarely in the past few years.

  It was only a basketball game. She’d been to many of those, often cheering her son as he’d loped down the court to the shouts of his admiring classmates.

  It was only one evening. It certainly wouldn’t change her life.

  The doorbell rang again, and she fancied she heard mocking laughter in its strident tone.

  Chapter Nine

  Leslie made dinner again Tuesday. Pasta primavera. Crusty garlic bread. Cheesecake for dessert. She cheated on that part by using a boxed mix.

  She’d spent the day thinking about how she would act when Tom came home. They couldn’t go on growling at each other, avoiding each other or kissing and then snapping again. For one thing the tension couldn’t possibly be good for Kenny. Not to mention that it wasn’t at all good for her.

  The point was, they were married. And for now they would stay married. Steve had made it clear enough that he had given in—provisionally—on the custody battle primarily because Leslie had married Tom. And while she still resented the implication that she wasn’t capable of raising Kenny alone, that she needed a man at her side to guide her, that she was somehow incomplete on her own—her rash plan had worked. Steve had dropped the suit, if not his intention to monitor her care of his nephew.

  Once the adoption was final, when Steve no longer had as much leverage over her, she and Tom could make plans for the future. She found herself reluctant to think of the end of the marriage, but told herself that was only because she didn’t know when, exactly, it would be.

  In the meantime, she decided, there was no reason that she and Tom couldn’t deal amicably with each other. The house was large enough that they wouldn’t be in each other’s way. He apparently had little interest in returning to their former, intimate relationship, and that was fine with her, she thought firmly. They could be friends, roommates, partners in the matter of providing for Kenny’s future with her.

  She would cook Tom’s meals, clean his house—the least she could do in return for all he’d done for her—and she would find a job so he would not be financially responsible for her and Kenny. She would be pleasant, but distant. Polite, but reserved. Patient, but decisive. Cooperative—to a point.

  And when it was time for her to go, she would do so with dignity, expressing her undying gratitude to him and making it clear that she would never ask another favor of him.

  Vaguely depress
ed by the path her thoughts had taken, she had to make an effort to smile when Tom came into the house.

  “You’ve cooked again,” he observed unnecessarily, sniffing appreciatively at the air.

  “I thought you’d -be hungry since you had to work late today,” she replied. He’d called her earlier in the afternoon to tell her he would be detained. He’d asked about Kenny, offered to pick up something on the way home and urged her again to make herself comfortable in his house. The entire call had lasted less than five minutes.

  “You know me. I’m always hungry.”

  Actually, she didn’t know him. She’d once thought she did, but that had been another time, almost another man. Even then, there’d been parts of him she’d never known at all.

  “Dinner’s ready, but I can keep it warm if you want to shower or change first,” she said.

  He shook his head. “I’ll just wash my hands. Be right in.”

  She turned back to the stove as he left the room. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped to remain politely detached from Tom. All he had to do was walk into the room, windblown and rumpled from a day’s work, and her pulse lurched into a frantic rhythm. Sexual attraction she could handle, she assured herself. But the feelings she harbored for Tom that went beyond desire—well, those would take a bit more effort.

  She heard him come back into the room and she turned, a covered dish in her hands. She was surprised to see that Tom was now carrying Kenny, who bounced happily against Tom’s chest.

  “Look who’s awake.”

  The smile Tom gave the baby almost made Leslie jealous because he hadn’t smiled for her.

  “He was babbling in his playpen, and I’m pretty sure he ordered me to pick him up and bring him in here. I think he smells the pasta and wants his share.”

  “I’ll make another batch for him—in about a year or so,” Leslie replied, quickly setting the bowl down before she dropped it. The sight of Tom holding little Kenny was entirely too enticing—much too hazardous to the practical plans she’d spent all day making.

  “I’ll get his seat,” she said, moving toward the kitchen doorway. “He can watch us eat.”

  “Oh, man, that’s cruel.” Tom chuckled and tickled the baby’s tummy, eliciting a gurgle of delight. “Don’t worry, kid, I’ll slip you a bite when she’s not looking.”

  Leslie told herself she should be pleased that Tom was being so kind to the baby—and she was, of course. She assured herself that she wasn’t jealous of a four-month-old baby. That would have been ridiculous. She was glad that Tom seemed to enjoy playing with Kenny. Tom needed to laugh again.

  She just wished he hadn’t apparently forgotten how to laugh with her.

  “Leslie, that was fantastic,” Tom said after cleaning his plate and putting away a good-sized slice of cheesecake. “I insist that you let me clean the kitchen this time.”

  “You’ve worked all day,” she reminded him. “And I clean as I go, so all that’s left to do is stack the dishes in the dishwasher.”

  “You’ve worked all day, too. The house is spotless. You didn’t have to do that. I have someone who comes in every couple of weeks to handle the heavy stuff.”

  “I have to do something during the day,” she said lightly. “Daytime television doesn’t interest me, and Kenny still takes a couple of long naps a day, so that leaves me with several free hours on my hands. I might as well be cleaning.”

  He started to say something, then apparently changed his mind. After a moment, he spoke again. “Want to get out of the house for a while? We could take in a movie or something.”

  “I’m not sure Kenny would stay quiet through a movie, and I’ve always hated it when other people allowed a crying baby to disturb an audience.”

  “I could ask Brandi to baby-sit,” he offered. “She’s the teenager who lives next door. Nice girl. Does a lot of baby-sitting in this neighborhood.”

  Leslie shook her head. “Not tonight. But thank you for offering.”

  He nodded. “Some other night, then.”

  “Sure. The basketball game’s on TV tonight, isn’t it? We could watch that.”

  A frown crossed Tom’s face. “Yeah,” he muttered. “We could do that.”

  She tilted her head curiously. “What’s wrong? Have you lost interest in Razorback sports? I find that awfully hard to believe, considering what a fan you were.”

  “No.”

  But he was still frowning, apparently bothered by something.

  “Tom, what is it?”

  “My mom’s going to that game.”

  “And that’s a problem?” She still didn’t understand.

  “She’s on a date.”

  The way he said it, the word sounded almost obscene. Trying not to smile, Leslie inquired, “Someone you dislike?”

  “Someone I don’t trust,” he corrected her. “It’s Steve Pendleton.”

  Leslie felt her jaw drop. “Your mother is on a date with Steve?”

  Tom nodded grimly. “That’s what she told me.”

  “Wow.” Not certain how she felt about the news, Leslie sank back into her seat and tried to decide if there was any reason to worry.

  “You don’t suppose Steve is using her somehow to get to us, do you?” She felt more than a little paranoid asking the question, but she could tell by the look on Tom’s face that he’d wondered the same thing.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s not as if my mom’s unattractive or anything, of course....”

  “Your mom’s beautiful,” Leslie corrected him. “And a lot of fun to be with. I can certainly understand how any man would be attracted to her. It’s just...”

  “It’s Steve Pendleton,” Tom said for her. “He paid someone to follow you here, then arrived himself with the sole purpose of causing trouble for you. He threw around a lot of thinly veiled threats, tried to intimidate you, said some unpleasant things about your family. And now he’s going out with my mother.”

  “There’s certainly reason to be a bit concerned,” Leslie conceded.

  Tom’s face hardened. “If he does anything to upset her, I’ll rearrange his face.”

  “Your mother’s a grown woman,” Leslie felt compelled to state. “I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

  “Why would she want to go out with him, anyway?” Tom was bewildered. “She hardly ever dates, but when she does it’s always men she knows well. Men her own age or older, dependable, respectable, well-known in the area. Not total strangers.”

  The way he described his mother’s occasional escorts made them sound dull, Leslie found herself thinking. She wondered if perhaps Nina had felt the same way about them.

  “Steve is a very good-looking man,” she admitted grudgingly. “Girls were always drawn to him when he was a teenager.”

  “My mother isn’t interested in a man’s appearance,” Tom countered a bit scornfully.

  Leslie couldn’t help laughing. “Your mother isn’t blind, Goose. And she’s certainly still young enough to appreciate a pair of dark eyes and a great male body.”

  The look of utter revulsion that crossed his face made her laugh again.

  “Cut it out, Les. This is my mother you’re talking about.”

  “Who is perfectly capable of deciding whom she wants to go out with. Try not to worry about it so much. Maybe she just felt sorry for Steve because he doesn’t know many people in town. She has such a kind heart, and she enjoys entertaining. Once he goes back to Little Rock, she’ll probably not give him another thought.”

  Tom seemed to take some reassurance from her words. “You’re probably right. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

  “I’m pretty sure your mom had something to do with Steve’s giving up the custody suit. Maybe she’s still working on him, convincing him to leave me alone.”

  “Maybe. That doesn’t bother you?”

  Leslie shrugged. “I’m not particularly thrilled with the idea of being discussed that way, but if it lets me keep Ke
nny without any further trouble from Steve, then no, it doesn’t really bother me. Surely you’ve realized by now that I won’t let pride or anything else interfere with my fight to keep Kenny.”

  He nodded and looked at the baby, who grinned back at him. Tom’s face softened. “Yeah, I understand that. Maybe Mom can help. That’s probably exactly what she wants to do.”

  “I’m sure it is. I’ve always loved your mother.”

  For a moment, Tom’s eyes met Leslie’s, and the warmth in them brought a lump to his throat. “I’m glad,” he murmured.

  And then he suddenly looked away. Cleared his throat. Reached precipitously for his dessert plate. “I’ll help you load these into the dishwasher,” he said brusquely. “Then we’ll watch the game.”

  Leslie swallowed and gathered her own implements. Desire, she reminded herself, had no business coming between platonic roommates. She’d better keep reminding herself of that as long as she was living with infinitely desirable Tom Lowery.

  The telephone rang during halftime. Leslie was feeding the baby, so Tom snagged the receiver off the end table close to him and lifted it to his ear. “H’lo? Oh, hi, Sami.”

  A few moments later, he pressed the phone to his shoulder and looked at Leslie. “It’s Sami,” he said. “She, er, wants to throw us a party. Kenny’s invited, too. Are we free Friday night?”

  “I’m free every night,” Leslie answered matter-of-factly, steeling herself to face an evening with Tom’s understandably curious friends.

  Tom nodded and returned to the call. “Leslie’s delighted,” he assured his friend’s wife. “We’ll be there.”

  Leslie made a face at him and shifted Kenny into a more comfortable position in the crook of her arm.

  She could do this, she assured herself. Compared with facing Tom every evening, dealing with a couple dozen of his friends would be a snap.

  So why was she suddenly dreading Friday night?