LITMIR.BIZ

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      So, it was his doing that the children’s class work was so highly structured. “I’ll make an appointment to see their—What is the title of the person who oversees the children’s schooling?”

      “Educational Specialist, but everyone calls her an E.S. Cynthia Madras is her name.”

      “Thanks. I’ve read the rules and regulations on homeschooling, but I’d like her input on the children individually.”

      He dragged a chair closer to her desk and sat. “She’ll tell you that Ashley is a visual learner who studies more than the others and worries if she doesn’t do very well on tests. Zoe and Adam are kinetic learners who have a hard time sitting still and like to have a noisy environment, which drives Ashley crazy. And Zach is an auditory learner with an exceptional memory. He studies the least and absorbs the most.”

      Tricia liked that he knew so much about his children’s learning styles. “I appreciate the summary.”

      “I keep a close watch on their education. I meet with each of them individually every evening to—” He stopped, hesitated. “I used to meet with each of them. I’ve been working so late the past year that I haven’t gotten home in time most nights to have one-on-one time with them.”

      “So, you’re not home for dinner?”

      “Rarely.”

      “I see. Well, maybe you’ll be able to incorporate the individual time into your schedule again soon.”

      “Maybe.”

      A long pause ensued. She knew she needed to change the subject. “Who cleans up the dishes at night?”

      “No one. Cora takes care of it when she comes in.”

      “Do the children have any chores to do?”

      “School is their job.”

      She decided not to start an argument with him on the value of responsibility through chores. Not yet, anyway. “Your future sister-in-law and I had a nice talk,” she said instead.

      He was obviously happy about the change in subject, because his expression smoothed out. “What do you think?”

      “I think Valerie is head over heels about your brother, and yet very down to earth. I like her a lot. I expect I’ll learn even more about her when I attend her bachelorette party.”

      His brows went up. “I’m sure you will. I guess as his best man I need to figure out a bachelor-party plan myself.”

      “Definitely. Next weekend. You don’t want to have the party the night before the wedding. Saturday night, since Friday is Halloween.”

      “Right.” He stood. “You’re all set here, then?”

      “Yes, thanks.” A little nervous, but excited. “Are you ever gone overnight? For work,” she added, realizing he might think she was wondering if he had a girlfriend or someone he visited when he had…needs.

      “Not for the past few years.”

      “Good.”

      “Why?”

      “I’ve always lived in the city. Being so isolated out here is kind of creeping me out.”

      He watched her for a few long seconds. “Come with me,” he said, then he went down the stairs.

      She followed because he gave her no choice. He waited at the foot of the last staircase, then they walked into the dining room, through the kitchen, into the utility room. He grabbed two jackets from the rack there, passed one to her, then he held the door open. She went down the stairs, putting on the jacket as she went. His jacket; she could tell from how the cuffs hung past her fingers.

      The night was quiet and dark. Moonless. She couldn’t see the lights of another house or building, just stars. Millions of stars. She hadn’t paid attention to them Friday night, hadn’t paid attention to anything but him, and how he talked about his father.

      Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked down the driveway to the four-car garage. She’d seen him drive a fancy black sports car, but had no idea of the brand. She figured it was his commute car. A large SUV was also parked in the building, a Cadillac.

      “I’ll give you a garage door opener,” he said. “You can park in the garage. I want you to use the Caddy to drive the kids around.”

      “Okay.” She tugged her collar up against her neck. “I don’t even know what you do for a living, except that you and David are in business together.”

      “We own Falcon Motorcars, custom-made automobiles. We’ve been strongly in the European market for a long time but are moving more toward American business now. It’s a big transition for us—David’s brainchild, so that he can stay stateside more.”

      “So that shiny sports car you drive is one of your own?”

      “The latest model. At this point we only produce the two-seater sports car, a four-door sedan, and made-to-spec limos. I’d like to incorporate an SUV, but that’ll be a few years down the road, I think. We’re headed to the American LeMans circuit first.”

      “You’ll be making race cars?”

      He nodded, then cocked his head as they heard a noise. “That’s an owl.”

      “I’m not a complete idiot,” she said with a smile. “What else is around?”

      “Deer. Dogs and cats, wild and tame. Raccoons, fox, skunks, all the usual small wild animals. A variety of birds. Early in the morning you can sit at the kitchen table and see quail. There are grouse and mourning doves and hawks. None of them is your enemy, Tricia, although the deer eat the vegetation, which is annoying sometimes. And if threatened, any animal will protect itself. You really shouldn’t worry about them.”

      At the moment she wasn’t worried at all, because he was there with her. But on her own? She really, really hated the great outdoors.

      “Is that why you don’t have a garden?” she asked. “Because of the deer?”

      He glanced toward the open space. “We used to have a garden. It was Margie’s thing. She was into organics.”

      “Margie is your late wife?”

      “Yes.”

      “How long were you married?”

      “Eleven years. We met in college.”

      “You were happy,” she said, hearing it in his voice, even layered with grief.

      “Yes. Very.”

      “How did she die?”

      “Pancreatic cancer. Very quick. Very painful.”

      His brief answers indicated he was done talking about it. “I’m so sorry.”

      “Thanks.” He touched the small of Tricia’s back, urging her toward the house.

      That touch, that single, glancing touch through the layers of the jacket, rattled her. She was already worried about falling in love with the children and not wanting to leave in January. She didn’t want to be worried about falling for the father, too.

      It’s just hormones, she decided. Long-repressed hormones coming out of years of hibernation, something she’d been hoping would happen—just not with her boss.

      Inside the house, she slipped out of the jacket before he could help her, not wanting his fingers to accidentally graze her skin.

      “Any questions?” he asked as they moved through the rooms to the staircase.

      “Am I free to call you at work if I have any problems? Even ones that aren’t an emergency?”

      “Of course. My assistant’s name is Mae. She’ll know to put you through. Better yet, just

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