LITMIR.BIZ

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delighted to have the attention. He showed Alex the new set of Matchbox cars that Rip and Crash had given him. “Sports cars,” he told Alex eagerly. “They go really fast. See?” He raced them around on the floor, making car noises.

      Alex stretched out his long legs and leaned back on an elbow, watching, not just indulgently, but with real interest. He picked up the cars by turn, examining them, commenting knowledgeably because, of course, he knew all about cars. It must come standard issue with the Y chromosome.

      Daisy stood there, watching, unable to pull herself away. Seeing the two of them together—father and son—was something she’d barely ever dreamed of. Hearing Charlie’s eager chatter and Alex’s low baritone in reply set something deep inside her quivering, aching.

      Wanting. Far too much.

      Abruptly she wheeled away. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “I have work to do.”

      He had come to see Charlie, not her. And while it was hardly an honest introduction to the demands of fatherhood, if he came looking for reinforcements in fifteen minutes, she’d know it wasn’t going to last.

      Charlie came in half an hour later. “Alex an’ me want to go to the park. He says to ask if you want to go along.”

      Annoyed that he would presume to decide what he and Charlie were going to do without consulting her, Daisy hurried downstairs.

      The Legos and Matchbox cars had been neatly put away and Alex was zipping up his jacket. “Good,” he said. “You’re coming, too.”

      “You don’t presume. You should have asked!”

      “Charlie did ask.”

      Charlie bobbed his head. “I said we wanted to go, and did you want to come.”

      Daisy opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Fine,” she said shortly. “I’ll come.”

      It was torture, seeing him with Charlie, being with him herself, acting as though they were some lovely happy family, all the while knowing it was a sham.

      “Take it easy,” Alex said in an undertone as she jerkily shoved her arms into her jacket. “I’m not going to steal my son.”

      My son, she wanted to correct him. And no, you’re damned well not!

      But Alex had turned and was helping Charlie with his jacket. Daisy wanted to push him away and do it herself. But one look told her that Charlie was more patient with Alex helping than he would have been with her. And Alex did take the time to show him how to do it himself—except for the zipping up part.

      “Guess we’ll have to help with that,” he said easily, then zipped the jacket up to Charlie’s chin. Then rising again, he reached down to ruffle the little boy’s hair.

      It was a casual movement, but it already spoke of a connection that made Daisy’s insides clench, especially when Charlie flashed him a happy grin.

      Turning abruptly, she called Murphy and snapped on his leash. Then the four of them went out the door and headed to the park—just like a family.

      She shouldn’t have come. She should have stayed back in her office and got more work done. But the temptation of watching Alex with Charlie was too great. It was terrifying, too. But Charlie was having such a good time.

      There was still lots of snow on the ground. Once they got to the park, they built a snowman. And they had a snowball fight. Then Charlie made snow angels.

      “A snow devil more like,” Daisy said, laughing as she watched him, then taking photos with the small pocket-size camera she always carried. She got quite a few of Charlie and Alex rolling balls to make the snowman, then more of Alex lifting Charlie onto his shoulders so he could put an old hat on the snowman’s head.

      They were laughing as they did it, Alex lurching around in the snow while Charlie gripped Alex’s hair with his free hand and laughed madly. Then Alex tipped his head back to grin up at his son, and the look they shared made Daisy feel as if she’d caught a snowball square in the heart.

      Later she nearly did as she helped Charlie pelt Alex with snowballs. She got several shots of Charlie and Alex throwing them at each other. Then Alex took the camera out of her hand.

      “What are you doing?” She tried to grab it back.

      But Alex held it out of her reach, his green eyes mischievous. “Go play with your son.”

      Self-consciously at first, Daisy did. But then she got caught up in Charlie’s enthusiasm. And while she pushed Charlie on a swing and helped him build a little snow dog to go with the snowman, Alex took pictures. Finally, when Daisy said it was time to leave, he set the camera’s timer and hauled them all into a picture together, scooping Charlie up into one arm while he flung the other around Daisy.

      And once more when his arm pulled her close, Daisy felt the hum of electricity between them. She felt desire all over again, and knew it for the hopeless feeling it was. It was a relief when the timer went off, the shutter clicked, and he let her go, slung Charlie onto his shoulders and they all walked home.

      On the doorstep, when Alex set him down, Daisy smiled politely. “Thank you. He enjoyed that.”

      “Did you?” Alex asked.

      She heard the pointedness of his tone and chose to ignore it. “Of course.” She fumbled to get the key in the lock. He was wearing sunglasses and before she’d turned away she couldn’t read his expression, but she could still feel the intensity of his gaze.

      “Good.” He took the key out of her hand and opened the door himself. Then he pushed it open, let them go in, then followed and shut it behind him.

      “I need to get dinner started. Don’t let us keep you. I’m sure you have things to do.” Daisy said briskly and, slipping off her jacket, started toward the kitchen.

      “We can get takeout. What do you like?”

      “I’m making stew. Charlie likes it.”

      “So do I.” Alex smiled guilelessly.

      “Alex can stay, can’t he?” Charlie asked.

      What was a mother to do? Of course she had to be polite. She was teaching Charlie to be polite.

      The evening was interminable. Dinner. Then Charlie’s bath. Then bedtime stories. And awareness of Alex at every single moment. Watching him with Charlie, catching him looking at her when he thought she wasn’t noticing. Charlie’s stories took forever, even though Alex read several of them. Prayers were longer, too, because Alex, of course, was added to them.

      “No singing tonight,” Daisy decreed before Charlie could even suggest it. “You need to go to sleep. Remember, your class is going to the zoo tomorrow.” The preschool trip to the Bronx Zoo—and a program about animals in winter—had been much anticipated.

      Now Charlie looked up from his pillow and asked, “Can Alex come?”

      “No,” Daisy said without giving Alex a chance to reply.

      “But—”

      “I have to work,” Alex said, sounding regretful. “But we had fun today. We’ll do this again.”

      Charlie popped up. “When?”

      “That depends on how well and how fast you go to sleep now,” Daisy said, no stranger to manipulative children. She gave him a speaking look.

      Charlie sighed, sank back against the pillow and shut his eyes. “I’m sleepin’.”

      “So I see,” Daisy said drily, bending to kiss him. “Good night, Mr. Sleepyhead.”

      “Night,” Charlie murmured, not opening his eyes.

      She stepped back, and found that Alex had taken her place at Charlie’s bedside. He brushed a hand over Charlie’s head, then dropped to one knee and pressed a light kiss on Charlie’s

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