Cunningham, Pat - Legacy [Sequel to Belonging] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)

No way would she sink to grilling a preschooler. Instead, she got Shayla doing the simple puzzles on the placemat and kept her queries to herself.

Jeremy came to the table with two trays laden with food enough for a family of five. Colleen’s heart took a painful dive. With him opposite her and Shayla between them, they must look just like a family. The family she would never have.

 
 
Shayla made it through her burger and half of her fries before the lure of the Burger Barn’s playground proved too strong to resist. With Jeremy’s permission, she excused herself and dashed for the slide. Jeremy watched her like a hawk, while Colleen watched Jeremy. She knew Shayla was adopted. The girl’s family had been killed in a violent home invasion that had made national headlines. The doctors Stanton, Annie and Gus, had taken her in. The Stantons were well-known and well-liked in Hermosa Beach. If they trusted Jeremy with their daughter, that said a ton in his favor.

“She never stops,” Jeremy said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know how Annie and Gus keep up with her. Where does all that energy come from?”

“Remember what I said about the sugar.” Shayla’s abandoned fries sat temptingly close to Colleen’s salad fork. Fries to thighs, she warned herself, but their siren call dragged her in. She reached over to pluck up a fat, greasy fry at the same moment Jeremy did. Their fingers collided. Something tingled between them like a jolt of static shock. She didn’t jerk back. Neither did he. “Hey. Get your own.”

“I ate mine.”

A glance at his tray confirmed it. Somehow his entire bag of large fries had vanished in between burgers. Taking advantage of her distraction, Jeremy snatched up the fry then handed it to her. He claimed a couple of smaller fries as compensation. “Help yourself. She won’t want them.”

“Thanks.” The fry slid down her throat like a salty slice of heaven. All sorts of heaven, she thought, gazing into Jeremy’s eyes. Her psychic prickle kept muttering “taken,” but she found it easy to ignore.

Between them they quickly polished off the fries. Conversation came in bursts while both kept an eye on Shayla. Colleen learned Jeremy was twenty-four, two years younger than herself—“Cougar cougar cradle robber!” she could hear Norelle hooting already—and was a part-time psych student living over in Collegeville, currently on summer break. He worked as a junior counselor at St. Jude’s Hospital under Gus Stanton’s mentorship. Once he had a few more classes and some seasoning under his belt, Gus planned to start easing him into his private practice.

“Dr. Stanton’s retiring?” Colleen asked.

“Never say that word to him. He intends to die at his desk at the age of one hundred and six.” Jeremy said this in profile because he was watching Shayla clamber up the slide. Colleen fought the urge to brush his hair back from his eyes, so she could see them more clearly.

Dropping her stare from his face, she noticed for the first time what appeared to be ink on his upper left arm, partially hidden by the sleeve of his dark green tee. “Is that a tattoo?”

“Hmm?” He dragged his attention away from Shayla and followed her nod to his bicep. “What, this? Yeah.” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the whole image.

The cartoony scarecrow in the jaunty straw hat took her by surprise. She hadn’t pictured Jeremy as a tat man. On second thought, however, the scarecrow’s long body, happy grin, and limber pose fit him perfectly.

“I’ll bet there’s quite a story behind that,” she said.

“Not much of one. It’s my nickname. My boyfriend’s the Tin Man.”

Boyfriend. Oh. Oh. My. God.
Well, that explained “Uncle Wally” and the married vibes.
Thanks for the heads-up, psychic powers.
Colleen went on smiling, while the waves of her half-formed hopes furiously dashed themselves against reality’s shore. “Scarecrow. Okay, I can see that. How long have you two been married?”

“We’re not—wait, I guess we are. We’ve been together over a year now. We’re—what are you giggling about?”

She didn’t even try to stop herself. “My friend at work thinks you’re hot. I’m picturing her face when I tell her.”

“Oh. Well. I’m not looking for outside action. But tell her I appreciate it, would you?”

“I’ll do that.” Colleen reined in the giggles. They’d picked up a hitch. Not helping, she told herself.

Unexpectedly, he took her hand. “Friends are a whole different thing. Wallace wouldn’t yell if I made a new friend. Would you tell her that, too?”

Friends. Okay, she could do the friend bit. She squeezed his hand. “Sure thing.”

A startled yelp distracted them. Both automatically looked to the playground. Shayla had tumbled off the end of the slide. Jeremy surged to his feet, Colleen a split second behind. Before either could move, Shayla picked herself up, dusted off her skirt with a businesslike sweep, and darted back to the ladder. Colleen loosed her breath. Across the table from her, Jeremy did the same.

“They should ban all playground equipment,” Colleen said. “Or else—”

She realized she was still holding tight to Jeremy’s hand. He reached the same realization at the same time. He let her go with an apologetic little half smile. Her fingers tingled when his left them, as if they missed his touch already.

“I should get Shayla home,” he said. “I’ll remember to tell Annie.”

“Tell Annie?” she echoed vaguely.

“About the sugar.”

“Oh. Right.”

At his call, the little girl returned to the table without a speck of protest. “Would you like to come on to the Stantons’?” Jeremy asked Colleen. “I can give you a ride home from there.”

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I need to walk off those fries now.”

“You’re sure?”

Don’t go
vibrated between them. Colleen couldn’t tell which of them had broadcast it first. “I’m sure,” she said firmly. If she didn’t shut it down now she’d be pining for weeks over something that could never be. Stay smart, stay sensible. Sensible had served her well over the years. “Thanks for dinner. It was wonderful meeting you. I’m glad to know Shayla’s in good hands.”

“Me, too.” He smiled down at her but didn’t try to touch her again. So he had felt it, too. A sharp twinge of envy stabbed into her. Uncle Wally must be a helluva man. Lucky as all get-out, that was for sure.

They parted in the parking lot. Colleen watched them both until they turned the corner, then set out for her own empty apartment. Perhaps someday she’d find someone. They might even manage to defy the odds and have a child together. Someday she’d sit at the Burger Barn with her husband and her own little girl. As long as she didn’t let Norelle push her at any more gay married men, things would be okay. In a slightly better mood now, she made her way home.

That night she dreamed, but not about Jeremy. She dreamed of the Woods and the Waters.