A Heart Decision (33 page)

Whoa
. Annie did a double take. Six feet of
temptation in a hand-tailored suit climbed out of a silver Jaguar
convertible. “Uhhh, you’re
married
, Jenny. Remember Keith,
your husband?”

“A wedding ring doesn’t blind a woman.” Her friend
chuckled. “And you’re single. You keep saying Noah needs a daddy.
Go make some small talk and see if the guy is available.”

“It’s doubtful. And if he is, a man who looks like
that probably has no desire to get tied down. In fact, I’m thinking
he might be gay.”

“You never know.” Jenn’s eyebrows lifted in an
encouraging arch.

The tawny-haired man oozed self-confidence, smiling
at the little girl in the back seat. Contrasted against his tan,
his teeth looked as brilliant as his white dress shirt.

“Wait a minute.” Annie wrinkled her forehead. “Isn’t
that Mandy Fitzpatrick in his car?”

Jenn heaved a disappointed sigh. “It figures Erica’s
hubby would be even more gorgeous than she is.”

The man strolled around to the passenger side of his
car, surveying the schoolyard. His gaze swept past Annie, then
snapped back for a second look lasting several heartbeats. The
broad smile he aimed at her warmed her cheeks. Okay, definitely
not
gay.

“I wonder why he’s suddenly bringing Mandy to
school.” Annie frowned. “He never has before.”

“Maybe Erica had their baby,” Jenn speculated,
dragging Annie closer to the car as the man pulled a comb from his
back pocket. “Wasn’t she due the end of September?”

Before Annie could answer, a high-pitched shriek
sliced the air.

“Shhh—I’m sorry, Kitten.” The man squatted at the
rear of his car and hugged Mandy. “You can’t go to school like
this.”

The little girl winced and squirmed while her father
raked his black fine-toothed comb through her long blonde tangles.
Unable to watch the child’s torture a moment longer, Annie darted
the few yards between them to rescue her.

“If you keep yanking on her hair, your daughter’s
going to look like she had several rounds of chemo, heaven forbid,”
Annie warned, recalling the way her mom’s hair had fallen out by
the handfuls. “Would you like to borrow a comb with wider teeth? I
promise it’s bug-free.”

“That’d be great. As you saw, I’d starve as a
hairdresser.” He tossed his hands up, and the deep timbre of his
voice reverberated through her. “I did my best to comb it after her
bath last night, but there were lots of tears. And then we ran late
this morning.”

Annie rooted in her shoulder handbag for her comb.
“Would you like me to do it?”

A long breath hissed out of him. “I thought you’d
never ask.”

“It helps if you use conditioner after you shampoo.
There’s a spray-on kind that’s great for kids.”

“It didn’t look this bad when we left the house. But
after driving to the school with the top down….” He spread his arms
helplessly, stepping closer while Annie worked snarls out in small
sections of his daughter’s hair.

A whiff of the man’s exotic after-shave wafted past
her nose. Glancing up, she discovered him staring intently at her
face rather than watching how she detangled Mandy’s hair. Annie
swallowed hard and jerked her gaze away.

It figured. Another married creep looking to fool
around on the side while his wife swelled with his child.

She finished Mandy’s hair, tucked her comb back
inside her purse, and faced the child’s father. “By the way, I’m
Annie Barnes. My son Noah was in Mandy’s kindergarten class last
year.”

“Son? You don’t look old enough to—I mean, I thought
you were a kid’s older sister or aunt.” A deep flush crept up from
his collar. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“Don’t sweat it. Having a child at only sixteen
causes that misconception a lot. How’s Erica?” she asked,
pointedly. “Since you’re doing this stint as Mr. Mom, should I
assume she had the baby early?”

Mandy looked up at her father, her lower lip
quivering as tears brimmed in her bright blue eyes. He stroked his
daughter’s flaxen head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. She doesn’t
know.”

Annie’s stomach clenched. She’d obviously stuck her
foot in her mouth. Was it possible Erica had miscarried?

He wiped Mandy’s damp cheeks and kissed them. “Get
your backpack and your lunch.”

While the child turned back to the convertible, the
man pulled Annie out of his daughter’s earshot. “My wife was killed
in a car accident right after school let out for the summer.”

Annie squeezed her eyes shut. It was more awful than
she’d suspected. Talk about thinking the worst of a person. She
hated it when people made assumptions about her based on
appearances. Not only had the poor guy lost his wife, his unborn
baby must have been killed with her.

“I’m so sorry.” She might as well pry her jaw open a
little wider to shove her other five toes in. “If there’s anything
I can do to help, Mr. Fitz—”

“Tyler.” The uneven curve in his lips hinted at his
weariness. “You’ve already been a big help. Thanks for doing
Mandy’s hair.” He nodded toward his daughter who had returned with
her pink
Hello Kitty
backpack and matching lunchbox. “I was
afraid I’d have to send her to school looking like a
scarecrow.”

“Well, I couldn’t bear the idea of six-year-old girl
looking like Homer Simpson.” She smiled, finding it impossible to
ignore his long, thick lashes and the tiny indentations dimpling
his cheeks.

“I appreciate it. I really don’t need the school
reporting me for child neglect.” He hugged Mandy to his side. “I’m
ashamed to say, I’m one of those guys who’s been so busy bringing
home the bacon I’m clueless about frying it. In fact, I’m not even
sure Mandy even likes it.”

“I
love bacon
, Daddy,” his daughter chimed
in.

“Good, Kitten. Maybe I’ll try making some this
weekend.” He turned his attention back to Annie. “It’s a shame
little girls don’t come with owners’ manuals.”

“If you’re that inexperienced, how’ve you been
managing the last few months?”

“My sister stayed with us for the summer.” His
clover-hued gaze bored into Annie as if he had laser vision.
“Unfortunately, with the new term starting, Sabrina had to leave
yesterday—she’s an elementary school nurse.”

The blood pulsing in Annie’s head drowned out the
sounds from the playground. She usually avoided men with Tyler’s
stop-a-girl-in-her-tracks
good looks. However, his
tenderness with his daughter touched Annie in a way that made her
regret letting her usual cynicism discolor their meeting.

Even so, she could forget any hearts-and-flowers
notions. An educated, well-to-do guy like Tyler Fitzpatrick would
never be seriously interested in a little nobody like her.

~*~

Tyler studied Annie’s high cheekbones and the twin
pools of dark chocolate shimmering above them. His heart thudded in
his chest like a convict beating on prison bars.

In the two years since he’d discovered Erica’s
multiple affairs, he’d been so bitter he hadn’t had much regard for
women. Although, Doc Foster’s explanation of his wife's specific
type of bipolar condition and the resulting lower inhibitions had
helped him understand Erica's reckless and impulsive behavior.

Forgiving
her infidelity had been another
matter.

If his wife had truly loved him, she would have
sought help for her mood swings rather than self-medicating her
depression through the exhilaration of sleeping around.

He’d yet to absolve his late wife, so except for the
loss of her innocent baby, whom he’d vowed to accept as his son and
love as much as Mandy, Erica’s passing had been more of a release
than a source of sorrow—something that still filled him with
intense guilt.

After all, didn’t it say something about him as a
husband that losing the son he’d never held, and who wasn’t even
his own, had caused him more anguish than the loss of the woman
he’d once imagined he loved?

He was tired of playing the grieving widower and
couldn’t remember the last time a woman’s smile had affected him
like Annie’s.

Her flawless complexion and the glossy cap of sable
curls framing her huge eyes reminded him of an Ivory soap
model—wholesome and pure. However, her wry sense of humor
contradicted her innocent face. Undoubtedly, a teen pregnancy would
have forced her to grow up fast and had probably destroyed any
illusions she might have had, along with her naivety.

“Anyway,” he continued, recovering his composure,
“I’m beginning to think this morning was shipped express from
hell.”

“
Oooh
.” Mandy covered her mouth with her tiny
palms. “Aunt Sabrina says you’re not s’pose to say that word.”

He heaved an impatient breath. He could explain the
difference between using the term as a reference to the underworld
rather than as a curse, but she was probably too young to
understand. “You’re right, Kitten. I’m sorry.” He turned back to
Annie and muttered, “Good thing she wasn’t around this morning when
the toaster oven caught fire, and I burned myself on the frying
pan.”

“You set the toaster on fire?” Annie’s giggle
morphed into a sputter. “I’d love to hear what you said then.”

“Trust me. You wouldn’t.” He rolled his eyes. “I
make a living using a phone, computer, and calculator. So when I
burn my button-punching fingers, it’s tough to remember to censor
myself.”

“You’re still a new mother. You’ll learn.” Her
dazzling smile hit him right in the solar plexus.

He’d never believed in love at first sight, but he
could understand how a guy might mistake this lightheaded
kiss-me-baby
feeling for more than simple attraction. Still,
he’d be crazy to think about getting involved with a girl a decade
younger, regardless of her sweet face and quirky sense of humor
that was more refreshing than a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade in
August.

The school bell’s clang broke the mesmerizing spell
between them, and she jerked her gaze away.

“Thanks again for your help, Annie.” He squeezed her
hand. “I’d appreciate it if you would spread the word about Erica.
It’s the first day of school, so not many people know.”

Still in a daze, he took his daughter’s arm and led
her to the group of first-graders lined up at the school’s glass
double doors. “Have a good day, Kitten. I’ll be waiting right here
at three-o’clock.”

He pressed his lips to Mandy’s forehead. She hung on
his neck, planting a sloppy smooch on his cheek. Regret swelled in
his chest. He’d been an idiot squeezing in so many breakfast
meetings last year and denying himself the pleasure of taking her
to school.

As he swiped his hand across his cheek, Mandy pouted
and pointed at him. “Daddy! You’re not s’pose to wipe off my
kiss!”

“I didn’t. Honest.” He kissed her again. “I was
rubbing it in.”

After Mandy trooped inside behind her class, smiling
and waving to him, he turned and found Annie chatting with the
dark-haired woman she’d been talking to earlier. Annie glanced over
and caught him watching her. Her cheeks turned bright crimson.

Nope. His ego hadn’t imagined the gazillion
kilowatts arcing between them. She was definitely interested.

His gaze inexorably drifted down to her dainty
ankles. Annie couldn’t be more than five-two. The twinkle in her
big round eyes and her short curls reminded him of a mischievous
pixie.

Ten years ago, he could have been arrested for even
glancing at her—but there was no question about her being eligible
now. Regrettably, she probably listened to completely different
music and, no doubt, couldn’t even remember a world before CDs and
cell phones.

His failed marriage proved a relationship couldn’t
be built on attraction alone. Thanks to Erica, he now understood he
needed more than merely a physical connection to alleviate the
profound loneliness that plagued him after tucking Mandy into bed
each night.

He cherished the hours he spent with his daughter,
but he needed a wife who would be a partner to him—a woman to talk
to and laugh at his jokes. Someone who would rub his shoulders,
share time with him in front of a fire, and listen to his problems.
And, if that someone happened to have the smile of an angel, so
much the better.

Despite every bit of logic screaming Annie was way
too young for him, her mixture of sweetness and sass fascinated
him. He smiled, unable to resist cocking an inquiring eyebrow at
her, asking the unspoken question
—
your
place or mine
?

Her friend’s furtive glances and horrified
expression indicated Annie must have told her about Erica. They
probably thought he was pure slime for flirting with a woman after
losing his wife and unborn baby so recently. Especially since he’d
hit puberty about the same time Annie was potty-training. How could
they know it’d been two years since he’d been intimate with his
wife?

Nonetheless, to protect Mandy’s memory of her
mother, he would continue to let the world believe Erica had been
carrying his child when she died. They were welcome to think the
worst of him because no way would he keep his life on hold a second
longer simply to satisfy society’s idea of a proper grieving
period.

He’d finished mourning his marriage a long time ago
and had stayed with Erica because of her illness and his daughter.
Unless a father could prove abuse or neglect, judges usually still
favored the mother for custody. He hadn’t been able to bear the
thought of only seeing his little girl a few days a month—not to
mention he didn’t trust Erica to give Mandy enough attention.

His wife’s mood disorder may have compelled her to
spend more time at the mall, the beauty salon, and seducing men
from the country club than she had in making a home for him and
their daughter, but she’d loved Mandy and had been better than no
mother at all. Now, his daughter needed more than just her aunt’s
occasional feminine influence in her life.