“Looks like I won the bet.”

When her eyes laughed up into his, Max only grinned. All around them, people were celebrating the touchdown, but Natalie was too caught up in her victory over him to notice. Tickled pink with herself, she had a grin as big as Texas on her face and couldn’t seem to sit still. She might have been a thirty-three-year-old mother of twins, but she looked like a high school cheerleader. Max had never seen her so carefree, and regardless of how many times he reminded himself she was off-limits, he couldn’t resist reaching for her and pulling her into his arms.

Then she stared up at him with stunned blue eyes, and Max groaned.

“It’s a tradition,” he said gruffly, nodding toward the kissing couples that surrounded them on all sides. “Everyone does it when we score.”

Dear Reader,

When I came up with the story for A Younger Man and I was developing Natalie’s children, I was watching Desperate Housewives. Bingo. Suddenly, Natalie had twin boys and they were a handful—sweet and loving and each of them all boy. I loved the idea of them being identical twins because I’m an identical twin. My sister and I could fool everyone…except our parents. All our friends wished that they had a twin, but we really longed to be triplets! Wouldn’t that have been fun! In our next lifetime, watch out.

I hope I was able to show the boys’ closeness in the story—there’s no closer relationship on Earth. My sister and I still do a lot together. She lives right down the road from me. Growing up, we wondered if there would come a day when people would stop asking us if we were twins. It hasn’t happened yet.

So for my sister Brenda and all the twins out there, this one’s for you. Enjoy.

Linda Turner

A Younger Man
Linda Turner

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LINDA TURNER

began reading romances in high school and began writing them one night when she had nothing else to read. She’s been writing ever since. Single and living in Texas, she travels every chance she gets, scouting locales for her books.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Prologue

“Listen up, everyone,” the lead singer of the band called out as he and his fellow musicians finished performing one of the classic hits from 1988. “I’ve just been asked to announce that the buffet line is officially open. So those of you who’ve been trying to bribe your way into the kitchen can put your cash away. Let’s eat!”

He didn’t have to say it twice. Laughing and talking and catching up on the years that had passed since they’d all graduated from high school, the Liberty Hill High School Class of ’88 gravitated en masse toward the buffet that had been set up on the far side of the VFW hall.

Moving to the back of the line with her friends, Natalie Bailey pointed out several of the men who had only been boys in 1988. “Look at the guys. Don’t they look great! What have they been doing with themselves? They don’t look like they’ve aged a day since high school.”

“It’s a rotten fact of life that men get better looking with age,” Rachel said ruefully. “Women just get fat. How is that fair?”

“You’re not fat,” Natalie pointed out with twinkling eyes. “I, on the other hand…”

“Don’t even think about going there,” Abby warned. “You’re a perfect size ten. How many mothers of twins can say that?”

“But I never lost that last five pounds of baby fat,” she replied, looking down at herself with a wry grimace. “It doesn’t seem to matter how many crunches I do or how many diets I try”

“So? It looks great on you,” Lily said. “If you don’t believe me, look around. You’ve been drawing looks all evening.”

Natalie groaned aloud at the thought. “Please, spare me. I’m not looking for a man. All I want—”

“Is to go to college,” her three friends said in unison, grinning.

Natalie had to laugh. “I guess I mentioned that already, huh?”

“Only six or seven times,” Abby said with a chuckle. “So why aren’t you?”

“Don’t use the boys as an excuse,” Rachel said before she could even open her mouth. “They’re five now, aren’t they? They’re starting school. You should, too.”

“I’d love to. But how do you suggest I pay for it? It takes everything I make just to get by—I don’t even have the money to have my car fixed—it’s leaking oil and I just keep putting more in and praying it’ll last. Things would be different if Derek paid child support, but it takes money to go after him, and I don’t have any because—”

“He doesn’t pay child support,” Abby finished for her.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “Like it or not, I’m stuck.”

“What a sleaze,” Lily retorted. “I’m sorry, Nat. I know you loved him once, and he’s the boys’ father, but you worked to put that rat through college and law school. And what does he do? Turn around and find a way to shaft you again. Talk about a deadbeat!”

“He’s the one who’s missing out,” Natalie pointed out. “He’ll never have a relationship with his sons.”

“One of these days, he’ll live to regret that,” Rachel said. “They’re adorable.”

Natalie grinned. “Sometimes they’re like the twins on Desperate Housewives, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Even if their father is the biggest loser that ever walked on two legs.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Rachel retorted. “That’s my ex! Derek may have walked out on you after you got pregnant with the boys, but at least you had your babies to console you. I spent years trying to get pregnant, and Jason never once told me that he’d had a vasectomy. Do you know how much I hate him for that?”

Natalie could only imagine. “It’s not too late to have children, Rachel,” she said quietly. “You’re only thirty-six. You have plenty of time.”

“Yes, she does,” Abby said with a smile. “And you have plenty of time to go to school.”

“I told you—I don’t have the money.”

“Get a grant. You’re bound to qualify. And your grades were always great in high school. You were in the national honor society, weren’t you? College will be a snap for you.”

Natalie couldn’t believe she was serious. “Are you kidding? I can’t remember the last time I had a chance to read a book. It must have been before the boys were born. That was five years ago!”

“Then you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Abby said lightly.

She made it sound so simple. “What about my job? And the boys? Who’s going to be there for them after school if I’ve got a class?”

“What about your mom? I thought she was thinking about moving to Eagle Creek to help you out.”

“She was, but then she married Scot, and he wanted to travel. They’re so happy. How could I ask them to give up traveling for me and the boys?”

“But you need help,” Lily said, frowning. “You’re completely on your own.”

She shrugged, her smile little more than a grimace. “I have a friend who babysits the boys when I’m working at the restaurant. But that’s not all day long.”

“You’ll work it out,” Lily assured her. “Everyone who has kids finds a way to work it out. Just make sure you invite us to your graduation.”

When her friends just grinned at her, Natalie raised a brow. “Oh, really? What about the three of you? You want me to go to school, but I don’t see any of you making changes in your lives. I’ll send you an invitation to my graduation when I get an invitation to Rachel’s baby shower and Abby’s wedding and a signed copy of Lily’s first coffee-table book of her photos. What do you say to that?”

They all recognized a gauntlet had been thrown down. The question was…which one of them would pick it up first?

Chapter 1

“Look, Mommy,” Tommy said happily, holding up the turtle he’d just carried in from the backyard. “I’m taking Pete with me to school!”

In the process of checking her sons’ backpacks to make sure they would have everything they would need for their first day of school, Natalie glanced up in alarm. “What? Oh, no, you’re not!”

“It’s okay,” Harry said as he followed his brother into the kitchen. Carrying his own turtle and unmindful of the dirty water dripping onto his clean shirt, he flashed a sweet, boyish grin at her. “The teacher won’t care. Sean said everybody is supposed to bring something the first day for show and tell.”

Swallowing a groan, Natalie didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. Sean Johnson, the next-door neighbor’s son, was the bane of her existence. Nine going on thirty, he was constantly giving her sons advice that invariably led them into one mess after another.

“I’m sure Sean meant well,” she told them as she quickly took the turtles from them and returned them to the small plastic pool they called home in the backyard. “You can take your turtles to school, but not today. First, you have to get permission from your teacher.”

“She won’t mind, Mom,” Tommy assured her earnestly. “Sean said so.”

“Just to be sure, we’ll play it safe. Now, come on. I’ve got to get you two cleaned up or you’re going to be late for school.”

“Aw, Mom, not again! Do we have to?”

“We just changed shirts!”

They had, in fact, already changed twice, but she couldn’t let them go to school looking as if they’d been playing in the mud. Bustling them into their room, she snatched their dirty shirts over their heads and had to laugh as they chatted like magpies.

She wasn’t laughing thirty minutes later, however, as she hurriedly walked the boys to their classroom. “Can you stay with us, Mom? Pleeeze?”

“We don’t want you to go to college,” Tommy added, wrapping his arms around her legs. “You can go to school with us.”

She saw the touch of fear in his eyes as well as Harry’s, and forced an upbeat smile. “I’d love to, hotshot, but the principal won’t let me. Your school is for boys and girls, not mommies. But you’ll be okay—I promise. You’re going to learn to read and add and subtract and do all sorts of things. Trust me…you’re going to love it!”

They didn’t look convinced, but then one of the little boys already in the classroom stepped forward and said, “Hey, are you guys twins? I’m a twin! See—there’s my brother.”

The boys absolutely loved being twins, and they were instantly fascinated. Turning to check out the other twins, they said in unison, “Wow!” Giving her a quick hug, they sprinted across the room to make friends.

Knowing they would never miss her, Natalie only took time to assure the teacher she would be back to pick the boys up when school was out, then rushed outside to her car. Hurry. The single word beat like a drum in her head. She had fifteen minutes to make it to class. She would have to fly.

It was a beautiful August day, and as she raced through the streets of Eagle, Colorado, all the lights turned green right on time. For a moment she thought she was going to make it. Then, just two miles from the campus of Mountain State University, her right rear tire blew with no warning. Startled, she gasped as the car swerved sharply to the right.

“Oh, no!” she cried, fighting to control it. “This can’t be happening! I’m already late!”

The powers-that-be didn’t care. The awkward thump of the flat echoed loudly as she steered her ten-year-old Honda over to the curb.

She wasn’t a woman given to profanity, especially since she’d had her sons, but at that moment she could have cursed a blue streak. Class started in eight minutes. She was never going to make it.

“Well, damn!”

Another woman would have called her road service, then waited for a big strong man to change the flat for her. But she didn’t have road service, and there was no big strong man in her life. Ever since Derek had decided he didn’t want to be a father or a husband, she’d learned to do things herself. That included changing flats. Resigned, she turned off the motor and stepped to the back of the car to unlock the trunk and retrieve the jack. She didn’t even worry about getting dirty—there was no point. It was a given she was going to get filthy.

Five minutes later she was struggling to loosen the lug nuts and not getting anywhere fast. Frustrated, she was considering giving the wheel a good swift blow with the lug wrench when a motorcycle suddenly pulled up behind her. A Good Samaritan at last, she thought with a sigh of relief. She was still going to be late for class, but she couldn’t worry about that. She just hoped that whoever her rescuer was, he was big and strong. Because nothing short of a Hercules was going to loosen those darn nuts.

At any other time she might have been nervous if she’d been stranded on the side of the road with no one around to help her but a lone motorcycle rider. But she was on the main thoroughfare to the university, it was broad daylight, and it was the first day of the fall semester. Cars streamed by in never-ending numbers. Surely an ax murderer wouldn’t be at work under such circumstances.

Rising to her feet to face her rescuer, a smile of gratitude already curling the corners of her mouth, she felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight of him. She readily admitted that there was something about motorcyclists that had always fascinated her. Dressed in black leather, riding down the street on their growling steel-and-chrome bikes, they were like dark knights, bold and daring, in search of adventure. And if she thought there was even a chance her boys would grow up to ride motorcycles, she’d lock them both in their rooms until they were thirty-five!

That didn’t mean, however, that she couldn’t appreciate the man striding toward her. He’d taken off his helmet and left it on his bike, and she couldn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat or two as she got a good look at him. Tall and lean, with thick golden-brown hair that was rebelliously long, he had a confident stride to his step and a glint of amusement in his blue eyes that was incredibly appealing. And he couldn’t have been a day over twenty-two.

So? a voice drawled in her head. He could be thirty-five and wonderful and you still wouldn’t give him the time of day. You’ve sworn off men. Remember?

She didn’t deny it. When it came to love and romance, she was done, finis, finished. The only men in her life were her sons, and that’s the way she intended to keep it. If she sometimes felt a pang of loneliness and longing in the dark of the night, then that was her little secret.

“Having trouble?” the knight in black leather asked her with a crooked smile. “Looks like you could use a hand.”

“I just need the lug nuts loosened,” she said. “I can do the rest myself.”

His smile deepened into a grin. “A liberated woman. I like that. The way I see it, everyone should know how to change a flat and cook an omelet. It should be one of the essential skills they teach in school. Then you can always get where you’re going and you won’t go hungry.”

Dropping down to one knee in front of the flat tire, he looked up at her with twinkling eyes. “You look like a woman who would know her way around a kitchen. What do you like to cook? French? Italian?”

She felt the warmth of his gaze all the way down to her toes, and for a moment, her mind went completely blank. Then his eyes crinkled with amusement and she realized she was staring at him as if she didn’t have a brain in her head. Heat rushed into her cheeks, mortifying her. What was wrong with her? She was too old to blush!

“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m really in a hurry. I’ve got to get to school.”

Interest sparked in his eyes. “School? You go to Mountain State?”

She nodded, then grimaced wryly. “Well, I will if my professor doesn’t kick me out before I even get to sit in on his first class.”

“Oh, I doubt he’ll do that,” he replied as he easily loosened one lug nut, then another. “Most of the professors are pretty reasonable. What’s your first class?”

“Archeology,” she said, “with Professor Sullivan.”

“Sullivan?” he said, arching a brow consideringly. “From what I’ve heard, he’s a decent guy. Just tell him you had a flat on the way to school. I’m sure he’ll cut you some slack.”

“I’ve just waited so long to go to college, and I want to start out on the right foot. Not that the professor will probably even notice,” she added. “I’ve heard that some of the classes are so large there’s no way the teachers even know who all their students are.”

“Oh, Sullivan will notice you,” he assured her with a grin. “You’re cute. And I heard he was partial to redheads.”

Heat climbing in her cheeks, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you flirting with me?”

Not the least bit concerned by her warning tone, he winked at her. “Got it in one, sweetheart. How’m I doing?” When she just gave him a baleful look, he chuckled. “That good, huh? Give me time. I’m just warming up.”

His eyes danced with laughter, and she had to admit that there’d been a time in her life when she might have been tempted. She’d always had a weakness for scamps, and there was no question that her handsome Samaritan had, no doubt, been using a smile and the glint in his eyes to get his way with women ever since he was old enough to crawl. But he had to be at least ten years younger than she was, and she was older and wiser than she’d once been.

Anxious to be on her way, she said lightly, “I really hate to shoot you down, but I’ve got to go. Thanks for loosening the lug nuts for me. I’ll take it from here.”

Not the least disturbed that she was giving him the brush-off, he only grinned. “No problem. I’ve got it.” And not giving her time to argue further, he jacked up the back of her car and quickly replaced the flat with her spare. Two minutes later, he loaded the flat and jack in the trunk of her Honda, slammed the lid and turned to her with a smile. “You’re all set to go.”

“Thank you so much,” she said with a sigh of relief. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“Get the flat fixed as quickly as you can,” he told her as he opened her door for her and she quickly slipped into the driver’s seat. “Your spare’s pretty thin.”

“I know. I’ve been meaning to get new tires, but you know how that goes.” Smiling, she quickly started the car. “Thanks again for all your help. Gotta go.”

“Hey, wait!” he said, startled, as she put the car in gear. “What’s your number? Let’s meet—”

Waving, she drove off.

“—for a drink,” he called after her. She didn’t even slow down. Ten seconds later she turned at the next corner and disappeared from view. Grinning, he grabbed his helmet and jumped on his bike. Ten seconds later he, too, turned at the next corner.

Her first class was in Old Main, and Natalie couldn’t find a parking space anywhere. Softly cursing, she quickly cruised down the surrounding streets, keeping a eye out for the campus police and any space big enough to squeeze her car into. And with every tick of the clock on the dash, the knot in her stomach tightened.

When she finally found a parking place six blocks away, she was already late for class. Now it was only a question of how late. Quickly pulling into the small space between two pickups that were over their lines, she grabbed her backpack and sprinted for Old Main.

She was breathless by the time she reached her classroom. Hesitating outside in the hallway, she dreaded opening the door and walking in. Rushing in ten minutes after class started, the object of all eyes, was not the way she’d dreamed of starting college, but there was no help for it. Dragging in a calming breath, she straightened her shoulders and pulled open the door.

Just as she’d expected, all eyes swung her way. Heat climbed in her cheeks and she was only concerned with finding a seat and disappearing. But first she had to apologize to her professor for being so late. Forcing a weak smile, she directed her gaze to the man standing at the front of the classroom. “I’m so sorry—”

That was as far as she got. Her gaze locked with familiar sparkling blue eyes that were full of mischief, and suddenly her heart was pounding in confusion. This was Maxwell Sullivan? A biker with a fast smile and a quick line who came to the aid of damsels in distress? He couldn’t be! Maxwell Sullivan was not only a professor of archeology, but a writer who was a true-life Indiana Jones. He traveled all over the world, solving mysteries that were older than dirt, then came home and wrote bestselling novels about his adventures by weaving archeological facts into fiction. He couldn’t possibly be her Good Samaritan! He was too young, too carefree, too cute to be a stodgy old professor.

“I’m sorry,” she said huskily. “Excuse me. I must be in the wrong classroom.”

“Not so fast,” Maxwell Sullivan said easily as she turned to leave. “You’re in the right place…or at least you are if you’re Natalie Bailey. Everyone else answered roll.”

Stunned, she just stared at him. “But you’re supposed to be older!”

It wasn’t until the rest of the class laughed that she realized she’d blurted out her thoughts. Mortified, she wanted to sink right through the floor. Forcing a weak smile, she said, “Excuse me while I take my foot out of my mouth. I just thought—”

“What everyone else in the class thought,” he finished for her with an easy grin. “So, please, don’t apologize. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not your average professor.”

“So just how old are you?” a cocky eighteen-year-old asked him from the front row. “Are you sure you have your Ph.D? You don’t look old enough to shave, dude.”

“You can thank my parents for that,” Max retorted, chuckling. “I’ve got good genes. And yes, I do have my Ph.D. If you don’t believe me—check me out. I didn’t buy any of my degrees on the Internet.”

“But you’ve got to be too young to be a professor,” another student said with a frown. “How old were you when you graduated from high school? Nine?”

“Not quite,” he laughed. “I was sixteen.”

“Sixteen!”

“No way!”

Grinning at the uproar that created, he added, “I got my B.A. when I was nineteen.”

The rest of her classmates found that hard to accept, but Natalie could well believe he’d finished college in three years. She’d read his books—they were complex and detailed and filled with fascinating historical facts. Knowing nothing else about him other than his published work, she’d never doubted that he was anything short of brilliant…which was why she’d been so eager to sign up for his class. She’d never dreamed he’d be a biker with peach fuzz on his cheeks.

Okay, so he wasn’t that young. It was his quick, teasing smile that made him look like a teenager, she decided as her gaze moved to the sensuous lines of his mouth. Boyish dimples flashed with every smile, but it was the self-deprecating twinkle in his eye that charmed her. What woman could resist a man who didn’t take himself seriously? How old was he? Frowning, she tried to do the math. If he graduated from college with his B.A. when he was nineteen, then spent the next four or five years finishing graduate school and his Ph.D., then he had to be at least…

“Twenty-eight,” he said with a quirk of a smile as he looked her right in the eye and read her mind. “I’ve been teaching for five years.”

From across the room, someone asked him when he’d gone on his first dig, but Natalie hardly heard his answer for the pounding of her heart. He gave the other students who asked questions the courtesy of his attention, but it seemed as if his gaze always returned to hers.

You’re imagining it, she told herself. He’s your professor, for heaven’s sake! And a biker who’s footloose and fancy-free. You’re a mother with twins and the only one your boys can depend on to be there for them. The last thing you want or need is a man.

She couldn’t argue with that. Her day started early and ended late, and, thanks to her deadbeat ex, she was not only the sole breadwinner, but also chief cook and bottlewasher, housekeeper, chauffeur, dragon slayer, crises solver, and entertainment director. She didn’t have trouble sleeping at the end of the day—she just collapsed from exhaustion. Even if Derek hadn’t totally put her off ever giving her heart to a man again, she didn’t know how she would have fit one into the crazy days that were her life. There just wasn’t time…especially now that she’d added college student to the many hats she wore.

She’d waited a long time for this day, she reminded herself grimly, as Maxwell Sullivan turned the conversation to the topics he would be covering over the course of the semester, the term paper that would count for twenty-five percent of their grade, and the dig they were all required to go on over the Thanksgiving holiday. The only reason she was here was to get an education.

Quickly grabbing a pen from her purse, she opened a spiral notebook and began taking notes. Diligently, she wrote down every word. She didn’t have to look around to know that she was eighteen years older than the majority of the students, and she readily admitted that she was more than a little intimidated. How was she going to keep up? Most of her classmates had just graduated from high school a few months ago, and their study habits were as fresh in their minds as the memories of their senior prom. She, on the other hand, didn’t even remember how to study. What, she wondered, trying not to panic, was she doing here?

Watching her from the corner of his eye as he discussed some of the well-known historical digs he’d been on, Max reminded himself that he wasn’t the kind of teacher who allowed himself to become interested in his female students. Not only did the administration frown on it, but he didn’t want or need the complication. So why the devil was Natalie Bailey so distracting? It wasn’t as if she was trying to attract his attention. Most of the time her head was bent over her notes. She hardly looked up at all, and when she did, it was obvious that she was totally focused on his lecture. He should have been thankful for that. Instead he found himself wishing she’d look up and smile at him. What was going on here?

Losing his place in his lecture—something that rarely happened—he frowned and quickly got himself back on track…but not for long. He turned to pull down a map of ancient Egypt, and there she was again, right in his line of vision. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d told her that her archeology professor was partial to redheads. He was—he readily admitted it. She’d twisted her dark-auburn curls up on her head, exposing the tempting lines of her throat, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She wasn’t the kind of woman he would have called beautiful—with her quick flash of dimples, pert nose, and petite five-foot-two figure, she looked more like the girl next door.

But there was more to her than that. There was that stubborn chin that would challenge a man at every turn and the wariness that peeked out of her midnight-blue eyes. An interesting combination, he thought, intrigued. He’d seen her quick smile, the humor that danced in her eyes…and how quickly she stepped back from that. He would bet there’d been a time in her life when she’d been a lot more spontaneous than she allowed herself to be now. What had happened to change that? When had life taught her to be a more cautious soul? What was her story?

Suddenly realizing where his thoughts had wandered, he swore silently and did some mental backpedaling himself. What the devil was he doing? If she was unusually distracting, it was only because she was so different from the female students he usually dealt with, he reasoned. They were too young and flighty, too eager to fall in love and live happily ever after. There was nothing flighty about the conscientious Ms. Bailey. She had a maturity about her that the rest of her eighteen-year-old classmates lacked, and she had no idea how refreshing that was. How old was she? Thirty? Older? Was she married? Divorced? What had she been doing since high school?

Whatever it was, he sincerely doubted that she’d spent any time in college—otherwise, she would have known it wasn’t necessary for her to write down every word he said. And that could present a problem for her, he realized, frowning. He was a tough teacher—he readily admitted it. His tests were fill-in-the-blank and essays and difficult for students fresh out of high school. Anyone who hadn’t been in school in years would, no doubt, have a difficult time passing his class. If Natalie didn’t want to find herself in trouble, she was really going to have to stay on top of things from day one.

Concerned—in spite of the fact that he demanded a lot of his students, he didn’t enjoy it when they failed—he finished his lecture with an assignment. “Read the first two chapters before Wednesday,” he said as the bell rang. “Oh, and Ms. Bailey, can you stay for a moment? I need to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

He wasn’t surprised when she hesitated. He’d flirted outrageously with her when he’d stopped to change her flat for her. He obviously had some fences to repair.

Silence fell like a stone when the last student filed out of the classroom, leaving the two of them alone. She still stood at her desk, facing him from halfway across the room. “I hope you realize I was only teasing earlier,” he said. “At first I didn’t realize you were one of my students. If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. That certainly wasn’t my intention.”

Heat climbed into her cheeks, but she met his gaze squarely. “You really should have told me who you were.”

He couldn’t argue with that. The second she’d told him she was late for his class, he should have identified himself. And he certainly shouldn’t have asked her out. That was a temporary loss of judgment. Aside from the fact that he didn’t date his students, just last week, he’d sworn he was through with women. Everyone he’d dated in the past six months was looking for a husband, and he wasn’t going there. Not after watching his father walk down the aisle, then into divorce court, more times than he could remember. From what he had seen, marriage only ruined the romance and made people who had once loved each other despise each other. He wanted no part of it.

So why was he so drawn to her? he wondered. He only had to remember the way she’d tried to give him the brush-off when he’d stopped to help her. He’d always liked smart, independent women who could take care of themselves. And even though he knew nothing about her except that she knew how to change a flat—once the lug nuts were out of the way—he didn’t doubt for a moment that Natalie Bailey didn’t need a man to lean on to get through life. That was the only reason he needed to avoid her like the plague.

“You were already upset about being late for class,” he told her, dragging his attention back to the conversation. “I didn’t want to upset you further by telling you who I was. I was afraid you’d be embarrassed.”

That sounded good, but Natalie was the mother of twin boys and she knew a line of bull when she heard one. Her lips threatened to curl into a smile. “That sounds like something my sons would say.”

So she had sons. He grinned. “You’re not buying it, huh?”

“What do you think?”

“Damn. And I thought I was being so clever.” His smile fading, he walked across the room and held out his hand to her. “Let’s start over. I’m Maxwell Sullivan. It’s nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the class.”

The simple gesture—and the sincerity in his direct blue gaze—charmed her as nothing else could, and the smile that she’d been trying to hold back tugged free. “I’m looking forward to it.”

She placed her hand in his, only to frown in confusion when his fingers closed around hers. There was something so right about the feel of her hand in his. Almost as if he’d touched her a thousand times before, she thought, shaken. But how could that be? She’d never laid eyes on him before today. What was going on?

The thunder of her heartbeat loud in her ears, she eased her hand free and stubbornly, quietly, reminded herself why she was there. “I’ve waited a long time to go to college,” she said huskily. “I just hope I can handle it.”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he replied. “Don’t take this wrong, but you’re obviously older than the rest of the class. How long has it been since you’ve been in school?”

She wasn’t ashamed of her age. “Eighteen years,” she said with a wry smile. “Better late than never.”

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” he assured her. “You may be a little shaky at first, but it won’t take you long to get back into the swing of things.”

“I’m worried about the term paper,” she admitted. “I don’t even remember how to write a footnote.”

“You’re not alone,” he said. “If you asked the rest of the class, they’d probably say the same thing, and they just graduated from high school last year. Don’t worry—I’ve got a whole list of books that will help you with your paper. I’ll bring it to class on Wednesday. If you need any other help, just let me know. Okay?”

His blue eyes were direct and sincere, and there was no sign of the flirtatious biker who’d asked her out when he’d stopped and changed her flat for her. Relieved, she appreciated his professionalism. But a few minutes later, as she thanked him and turned to leave, she couldn’t forget the way her heart had jumped when his hand had closed around hers.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she muttered to herself as she hurried to her next class. “He’s still a baby. So what if he looks like Lancelot on a motorcycle? Hello? He’s your teacher! And you’ve got enough on your plate with school and the boys and your job—you don’t need a man!”

Deliberately pushing the memory of Max Sullivan’s twinkling eyes from her head, she was determined not to give the man a second thought the rest of the day. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as easily dismissed from her mind. As she headed to her next class, she found herself comparing him to every man she passed on the street. They all came up short.

Chapter 2

Staring at his computer screen, Max read the only line he’d written in the past hour, then swore softly. It was stiff and awkward and hardly the work of a writer who’d made the New York Times’ Bestseller List with his first two books. And to make matters worse, he couldn’t think of a single way to improve what he’d written. He didn’t mind admitting he was worried.

Starting the fall term was always stressful, he reminded himself. There were meetings, university functions he was required to attend, and this year the administration had added two more classes to his workload. And he had no one to blame but himself. Because of the success of his books and his rapport with the students, his classes were in hot demand. Normally he would have been flattered by all the attention, but he was on a short deadline with his next book and getting nowhere fast. He’d be okay once everything settled down.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered to himself as he leaned back in his chair in disgust. “And if you believe that one, you might as well write a letter to Santa and ask him to give you a finished manuscript. At this rate that’s the only way you’re going to make your deadline.”

The phone rang, and he welcomed the reprieve. Snatching it up, he growled, “Sullivan.”

“Well, I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re having a good day,” his father said dryly. “What’s got your shorts in a knot? One of your girlfriends giving you trouble?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Dad.”

“Ah, so that’s the problem. You should have told me. I could have made some calls for you.”

Max swallowed a groan at the thought. He didn’t doubt that there were any number of women his father could call—he’d been married eight damn times and had, no doubt, probably dated every woman in town over the age of thirty-five! Which was exactly why his old man was the last person he’d call for advice on women.

“Thanks, Dad, but meeting women isn’t the problem. I can get my own dates.” Absently glancing at the clock on the wall directly across from his desk, he frowned. “Hey, wait a minute. You and Joanna were scheduled to leave for Las Vegas this morning, weren’t you?”

“We decided not to go.”

“Not to go!” he repeated, surprised. “But you already have your tickets. And you love Vegas! The last time I went there with you, I had to pry you away from the tables with a crowbar. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

For a long moment his father didn’t say a word. And in the silence of his hesitation, Max knew what he was going to say before his next words ever left his mouth. “We’re getting a divorce.”

“Dammit, Dad!”

“There’s no use getting upset about it,” his father grumbled. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Yeah, and they all have a name,” he retorted. “Susan, Karen, Bridgett, Laura… Shall I go on?”

“I don’t regret a single one of my marriages,” John Sullivan said stiffly. “I loved every one of my wives.”

“You just couldn’t stay married to them. I thought Joanna was the love of your life. Of course, that’s what you said about Cathy and Tanya and—”

“I was hoping for a little sympathy. This isn’t easy for me, you know. Just because this is my eighth divorce doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“I know that, Dad.” He sighed, guilt tugging at him at his father’s wounded tone. “I know how crazy you were about Joanna. What happened?”

“She thinks I’m having an affair.”

“And are you?”

“Of course not!” he said indignantly. “I’ve never cheated on any of my wives. I would think you’d know that about me.”

Now he’d hurt his feelings. Swearing under his breath, he reminded himself that his father really was hurting. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t faithful. I just don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself.”

“What? Getting married…or divorced?”

“Both! You’re too old for this.” He knew his father didn’t want to hear anything negative when he was already down, but Max had held his tongue for too long. “The world’s changed, Dad. It’s not like it was when you and Mom were young. You don’t have to marry every woman you want to sleep with.”

“Watch it,” John Sullivan warned. “You’re starting to sound like a cynic.”

“Because I don’t put myself through the torture that you do?” he retorted. “C’mon, Dad! There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a woman, then letting her go. You don’t have to complicate your life by marrying her.”

“You’re talking about sex,” his father said flatly.

Max didn’t deny it. “You’re damn straight. And what’s wrong with that?”

“Because there’s more to life than sex,” the older man said indignantly.

Max winced. “There you go again—talking about love. It doesn’t exist, Dad. Haven’t you figured that out? That’s why marriage doesn’t work. You let your raging hormones convince you you’ve found your soul mate, and while you’re under the influence, you make everything nice and legal. Then the magic wears off and you lose half of everything to a woman you no longer ‘love.’ You’ve got to stop this.”

He was truly worried about his father, but he might as well have saved his breath. John Sullivan had always been an eternal optimist, and if eight failed marriages couldn’t change that, than nothing else could. “You’re the one who needs to stop the way you’re living, son. What are you now…twenty-six?”

“Twenty-eight,” he said dryly.

“Almost thirty,” his father said. “And you’ve never had a serious relationship, never fallen in love. And that worries me. If you keep this up, you’re going to miss out on what life is all about. And I don’t want to hear that malarkey about love being nothing more than raging hormones. If you’d ever been in love, you would know that it’s a hell of a lot more than that. It’s finding someone you can share not just your bed with but your life. Aren’t you lonely?”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Max said quickly. “You’re not going to turn this around and make it all about me. I’m perfectly happy with my life, thank you very much. Let’s stick to the subject—you.”

Far from offended, John Sullivan only laughed. “A bit touchy, are we? What’s the matter? Did I hit a nerve?”

“Dad, I’m warning you!”

“Just think over what I said,” he said, sobering. “Okay?”

“If you’ll do the same,” Max replied. “I mean it. I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine,” his father assured him gruffly. “I just need some time.”

“Let’s have dinner next week,” he suggested, frowning. “We’ll go to Pete’s and have some ribs. I’ll take you for your birthday.”

“Hey, that sounds good. I can’t remember the last time I went to Pete’s.”

Not surprised that he’d jumped at the offer—his father had been going to Pete’s for ribs since before he was born—Max grinned. “I’ll see you Wednesday, then. Are you still at the apartment?”

Just that easily the conversation returned to the divorce. John Sullivan’s sigh carried easily across the phone line. “Yeah, but it just doesn’t seem the same without Joanna. She’s moved in with her daughter.”

“It’ll take time, Dad,” Max said quietly. “Try not to let it get you down.”

As he hung up, however, Max knew his father was hurting. He was a sensitive man who didn’t handle rejection—or divorce—well. He always moped around, stuck close to the house and generally felt sorry for himself for at least a month. Then—just when it seemed like he would never smile again—he would meet someone and the roller-coaster ride would start all over again.

If it would just end there, Max thought as he returned his attention to his writing, there would be nothing to worry about. But it was only a matter of time before his father planned his next proposal—he couldn’t seem to help himself.

Just thinking about it made Max groan. Returning his attention to his writing, he tried to dismiss his father’s troubles from his mind but without much success. When the phone rang again twenty minutes later, he hadn’t written a single word.

Irritated with himself, he reached for the phone. “Yes?”

“Uh-oh, I don’t like the sound of that. I take it you’re still having problems.”

At the sound of his editor’s voice, a reluctant grin curled the corners of Max’s mouth. “How’d you guess?”

“You sound just a little bit testy,” Katherine Stevens replied. “Have you pulled all your hair out yet?”

“Not yet,” he said, “but I’m considering it. How’d you know I needed to talk to you?”

“I’m psychic when it comes to my authors. What chapter are you on?”

He hesitated, but she would have to know sooner or later. “Two.”

Even though she didn’t say a word, he could almost hear her wince. Finally, quietly, she said, “You know you’re trying too hard, don’t you? You don’t need to put all this pressure on yourself. If you’d just let me reset the pub date, everything would be fine.”

“I can do this.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she agreed, “but the point is you don’t need to. Ed understands that our authors don’t live in a vacuum. Life happens. We have to be adjustable.”

Ed Quinn was the sole owner and publisher of St. John’s Press. Max had met him after his first book made the Times list, and he had to admit that Ed went out of his way to work with his authors. Max just hated to ask for extra time for writer’s block, of all things. He’d never had this kind of problem before, and he didn’t like it, dammit!

“Don’t make any changes in the pub date just yet,” he said gruffly. “I may still be able to make it.”

“You just need to lighten up,” she assured him.

“How? I’ve tried everything short of standing on my head.”

“Let’s go to dinner tomorrow night and talk about it.”

“Tomorrow? Are you in town?”

“I will be tomorrow,” she said with a chuckle. “Right now I’m in Denver for a conference. I thought I’d rent a car and drive up to see you tomorrow afternoon. If you’re free, of course.”

“Of course I’m free. Why don’t you meet me here at my office? When you come into town, turn right on University Avenue and it’ll take you straight to Old Main. There’s visitor parking out front. I’m in 204.”

“I should be there by five,” she replied. “Send out the cavalry if I’m not. My sense of direction stinks.”

“Don’t worry.” He laughed. “It’s almost impossible to get lost between here and Denver. There’s only one road and it goes straight to Eagle Creek.”

“Trust me—you haven’t seen me with a map.”

Laughing, she hung up, and for a moment Max found himself grinning at his computer screen. Katherine was a saint—and a hell of a good editor. If anyone could walk him through writer’s block—and he still wasn’t convinced that was possible—it was Katherine Stevens. Lighten up, she’d said. It sounded easy, but as he studied the single line he’d written in Chapter Two, his stomach knotted with tension. So much for lightening up, he thought grimly.

When Natalie’s alarm went off the next morning, she blindly slapped at the snooze button and found it without lifting her head from the pillow. It couldn’t be six-thirty already, she thought groggily. She’d just gone to bed at…what? Three?

She groaned at the thought. No wonder she was exhausted! She’d been working on her homework for all her classes, trying to get ahead of the game before she found herself behind. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she’d never dreamed it would take so long just to read three different homework assignments and go over her class notes. And that was after only the first day of classes! How was she going to keep up the pace all semester when she had projects to do, papers to write, the boys to take care of, and she worked four days a week? She could forget snoozing five extra minutes in the morning, that was for sure. She didn’t have time!

Jumping out of bed, she hurriedly dressed, then woke the boys. Then the fun began.

“I don’t want to wear that. It itches!”

“That’s my shirt! Mom! Tommy has my shirt!”

Playing peacemaker, aware of every tick of the clock, she separated them, found shirts that didn’t itch and belonged to the right boy, then rushed to the kitchen to pop some waffles in the toaster. When the boys straggled in a few minutes later, she had everything ready. “As soon as you’re finished, put your plates in the sink and go brush your teeth while I put on my makeup,” she told them. “No playing around, guys. We can’t be late again this morning.”

Everything should have gone smoothly—she’d even poured the syrup, so all the boys had to do was sit down and eat. But she’d just smoothed foundation onto her cheeks when she heard a crash in the kitchen and one of the boys yelled, “Mom! Bongo ate my waffles and knocked over the trash can!”

“What?” Dropping her makeup, she rushed into the kitchen. “No, Bongo! Down!”

Too late. Bongo jumped up, planted his large, damp paws on her chest, and greeted her with a wet, sticky kiss. “Woof!”

“Oh, you bad dog! Down! Who let you in?” She shot a stern look at her five-year-olds, but she might as well have saved herself the trouble. They giggled in unison, and she couldn’t hold her frown. “Scamps! What am I going to do with you?”

“Take us to McDonald’s,” Harry suggested, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Pleeese, Mom,” Tommy entreated, turning his mouth down into a sad little smile. “We didn’t get breakfast. We’re hungry.”

“Why do I have the feeling I’ve just been scammed?” When they just grinned, she laughed and ruffled their hair. “Okay, we’ll go through the drive-through—this time. Let me change.”

She was five minutes behind schedule by the time she changed and got the boys and their backpacks loaded in the car. When she pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot and zipped around to the drive-through, she knew it was going to be another one of those days when nothing went right. There were five cars ahead of her.

If she’d just had herself to worry about, she would have skipped breakfast, but the boys couldn’t go all morning at school without something to eat. Resigned, she got in line.

Fifteen minutes later she pulled up in front of the boys’ elementary school and couldn’t help but notice what a difference a day made. Unlike yesterday, when they’d begged her to stay with them, this time, they hardly took time to kiss her goodbye before they grabbed their backpacks and burst from the car with huge grins on their identical faces. Their two new twin friends ran to meet them, and Natalie realized with amusement that she was all but forgotten.

With two hours to spare before she had to report for work, all she wanted to do was go to the university library and begin researching possible topics for her term paper for her archeology class. Unfortunately she still had a flat that had to be repaired, all because Derek was nowhere to be found. She hoped he was enjoying his life in the Caribbean with no responsibility, she thought grimly. She and his sons were doing just fine without him.

The old resentment stirred at the thought of his abandonment of them, but as she finally stepped into the university library, she was relieved to discover she wasn’t nearly as angry as she’d once been. And there was only one reason for that—after all these years, she was finally in college.

Still unable to believe it, she hurried into the library with a light step and a smile on her face. When Max Sullivan had told the class about the term paper that was due at the end of the semester, her younger classmates had grumbled about the amount of work they would have to do, but she’d been waiting for eighteen years for the chance to do just such an assignment, and she couldn’t have been happier. Finding a small alcove close to the archeological section, she went to work.

Lost in an ancient tomb filled with fascinating details about a dig in Peru, Natalie didn’t even notice the other students who quietly passed her alcove. Then she felt the touch of eyes. Glancing up, she gasped in surprise. “Professor Sullivan!”

A pained look wrinkled his brow. “Please…call me Max. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not hung up on titles.”

When his mouth curled into that quick, engaging smile that always seemed to knock the air right out of her lungs, she couldn’t seem to drag her gaze from the sensuous curve of his mouth. Lord, he was good-looking! If only he wasn’t so young…

The thought shocked her. What was she doing? She didn’t care if he was forty and as dependable as the sunrise. He was her teacher. And she wasn’t looking for a man! How many times did she have to remind herself of that?

“Natalie?”

She blinked, and her gaze flew to his. She took one look at the amusement dancing in his eyes and realized too late that he obviously knew exactly what kind of effect he had on her and every other woman who had any estrogen in her veins. Mortified, she just barely held back a groan. What was it about him that had her acting like some kind of starstruck teenybopper? She had to stop this!

Cursing the hot color in her cheeks, she straightened her shoulders. “I beg your pardon, Professor. Did you say something? I was up late last night working on my homework and my brain’s not working very well today.”

“You’ve found my secret hiding place,” he said, grinning. “Do you mind if I join you? Feel free to tell me to take a hike if you need the space to yourself. You were here first, and I don’t want to intrude.”

She should have sent him on his way. It certainly would have been the wise thing to do, considering the way her heart seemed to skip a beat every time her eyes met his. He knew exactly what she was doing by insisting on calling him Professor, and she had a sneaky feeling he was just biding his time. For no other reason than that, the last thing she should have done was share a table with him in a secluded nook of the library. But when she opened her mouth to tell him she worked better alone, she heard herself say instead, “Of course you’re not intruding. I just didn’t expect to see anyone I knew.”

“I always come here when I need to jump-start my creativity,” he said as he pulled out the chair directly across the table from her. With an animal grace that was incredibly sexy, he dropped into the chair and stretched out his long legs.

Underneath the table, his foot innocently brushed against hers. Just that quickly, the air in the alcove grew much more intimate. If he noticed that she’d gone as still as a post, he gave no notice. Instead he nodded at the book open before her on the table. “Are you working on your term paper already?”

“I can’t afford to get behind,” she said simply. “I have to be at work in an hour, but I thought I’d at least get started.” Cocking her head at him, she frowned. “What about you? What did you mean…you come here to jump-start your creativity?”

He grimaced. “Writer’s block.”

“Are you serious?”

“Hopefully, it’s not a permanent condition,” he retorted in disgust. “Though it certainly seems like it. Every time I sit down to write, all I do is stare at the screen and get nowhere.” Suddenly realizing how that sounded, he grinned crookedly. “Wah! Feel free to call me a crybaby. Sometimes, the truth hurts.”

She had to laugh. “Well, now that you mention it…”

“No more whining,” he promised her. “You’re here to study and I’m just rambling on, bothering you. I’ll shut up now.”

“You’re not bothering me,” she said.

“Shhh,” he whispered, grinning as he pointed to a sign on the wall. “No talking. Can’t you read?”

When she gasped, then narrowed her eyes at him, he almost laughed. Damn, he liked her! Unable to resist the chance to find out more about her, he abandoned any idea of reading and sat back to openly study her.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, blushing.

Wicked mischief flashed in his eyes as he leaned forward and said in a whisper that forced her to lean forward, too. “Watching you. I was just wondering how everything’s going. What other classes are you taking besides mine?”

He watched in delight as she narrowed her eyes at him again. “I thought you came here to read.”

“No, I came to jump-start my creativity,” he corrected her. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh, really? And how are you doing that? All you’re doing is asking me questions about school.”

He smiled. “You don’t have a clue how fascinating you are.”

“I bet you say that to all the women you find yourself sharing this table with.”

Uncaring of the sign asking for silence, he burst out laughing. “I like you, Mrs. Bailey.”

“Like I said, Professor, I bet you say that to all the women—”

Chuckling, he didn’t deny it. “Guilty as charged. Now that we’ve got that settled, what was that you were saying about your other classes?”

For a moment she gave him that look again, the one that made him want to laugh, then she laughed herself. “Okay. I don’t know why you’re so interested, but I’m also taking English lit and algebra. With your class, that’s nine hours. I’d love to take more, but with the boys and my work schedule and everything, that’s about all I can manage.”

“I think it’s incredible that you’re able to take anything when you have children,” he said honestly. “Do you have any time at the end of the day to just sit down and put your feet up and relax with your husband?”

Something flickered in her eyes, but she only said quietly, “The husband took a hike a long time ago, but yes, I do get to put my feet up once in a while.”

So that was what had put the shadows in her eyes, he thought. Obviously, there was more to the story, but he didn’t intend to push. “If you find time to relax when you’ve got sons, then you must be better organized than my mom was when I was growing up,” he said easily. “Most of the time she was running from daylight to midnight.”

“Oh, I can handle that.” She chuckled. “Algebra is another matter completely.”

He grinned. “Not your thing, huh?”

“God, no! The only math I’ve done in the past eighteen years is balance my checkbook, and sometimes, I don’t do that well. Give me your class any day. It’s a piece of cake compared to algebra.”

“Really? Maybe I need to toughen up the curriculum,” he said dryly.

Only just then realizing what she’d said, she gasped, “Oh, no! I didn’t mean—”

Laughing, he sat back to grin at her. “I was just kidding. The class is hard enough as it is. So tell me what else you’ve been doing besides taking care of your kids, working and studying. Have you joined a sorority yet?”

“Yeah, right.” She chuckled. “Somehow, I don’t think I would fit in very well with the eighteen-year-olds.”

“I think you’d fit in with just about anyone,” he replied honestly. “What about football games? Dances? I know it’s early in the semester, but you are planning to get involved in the social scene, aren’t you?”

“Oh, no,” she said, horrified at the very suggestion. “I’m thirty-six years old—”

“So?”

“I’ve got kids!”

His mouth twitched. “I know I sound like a broken record, but…so? And don’t say you won’t fit in,” he added quickly. “You’ve obviously waited a long time to go to college. It should be about more than studying, don’t you think?”

He had a point, one that Natalie hadn’t considered. She had waited years to go to college. Why shouldn’t she enjoy it? Just because she was a little older and had children didn’t mean she couldn’t be a part of university life like the rest of the freshmen in her class.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised.

“Good.” Glancing at the clock on the wall across from their alcove, he said, “I hate to break this up, but don’t you have to get to work?”

Natalie took one look at the clock and gasped. “Oh, my God! Where did the time go? I’ve got to go!”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he called after her as she snatched up her things and ran for the door. “Have a good day!”

Never looking back, she waved and disappeared from sight. Chuckling, Max sat back with a smile on his face. As a quiet stillness settled over the small alcove, he should have turned his attention back to the reading he’d come to do. Instead all he could think of was that he’d never be able to sit in his favorite alcove again without thinking of Natalie.

Racing down Main Street, every tick of the clock echoing in her head, Natalie groaned when the traffic light thirty feet in front of her abruptly turned red. She had no choice but to hit the brakes. She was going to be late. Resigned, she knew she had no one to blame but herself. She’d lost track of the time talking to Max.

No, she corrected herself as she raced into the parking lot of Finn’s, the restaurant where she worked. She hadn’t just lost track of time—she’d forgotten about it altogether. When Max turned his blue eyes on her and grinned, he made her forget her own name. Did he realize that? Just thinking about it mortified her.

When she pulled open the back door of the restaurant and stepped into the kitchen, she wasn’t surprised when Sam Finnegan, her boss, immediately spied her. His office had a wall of windows that gave him a bird’s-eye view of the kitchen, and it didn’t matter how busy he was at his desk, he saw everyone who came and went.

Looking up from his paperwork, he drawled, “Well, as I live and breathe, if it isn’t my star waitress. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to put in an appearance today. What’s the matter? Couldn’t tear yourself away from your sorority?”

Well used to her boss’s caustic, teasing remarks, Natalie stepped into the open doorway of his office and said dryly, “I’m not the sorority type, Sam. You know that.”

“So where you been?”

“I had to do some research at the library before work and I sort of lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, tossing her one of the company aprons that all the waitresses wore. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You get your head stuck in a book and you’re on another planet.”

She couldn’t deny it. Everyone who knew her knew she loved to read. She never went anywhere without a book in her purse. “Isn’t it awful?” she said with a grin. “I’ve got a whole new library to explore. I’m loving it.”

When he just sniffed and gave her his patented scowl, she wasn’t surprised…or fooled. At first glance, Sam Finnegan appeared to be one of those men who didn’t have a soft bone in his body. He was gruff and sarcastic, and no one in their right mind would ever mistake him for a teddy bear…until they got to know him.

When Derek had suddenly walked out on her and left her penniless when she was pregnant, Sam had turned out to be her knight in shining armor. He hadn’t asked her why a woman who was big as a house needed a job or where the hell her husband was. He’d simply looked at her with those piercing brown eyes of his, told her he had an opening for a waitress, then asked her if she could start immediately. Then he sat her in a corner and had her do book work for him so she wouldn’t be on her feet all day. When the boys were born, he gave her maternity leave and refused to let her return to work until her doctor gave the okay. That kind of generosity in the restaurant business was unheard of in a college town where there were always students looking for a job.

She’d accused him then of being a sweetheart of a man, and he’d flat-out denied it. But over the years he’d given himself away time and time again. Whenever the boys were sick or had a doctor’s appointment or needed her for anything, he grumbled and complained…and let her off with pay. And when she’d approached him about going to college, he pretended to be totally against the idea, then he told her that he’d been thinking about changing her shift so that she worked every other day. He’d claimed that he was going to change everyone’s hours—it would make the running of the restaurant more efficient—but he never changed anyone else’s but hers.

“You know it’s all your fault,” she said lightly as she stepped further into his office and dropped into the chair in front of his desk. “If you hadn’t changed my hours and made it possible for me to go to school twice a week, I never would have had access to the university library.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he growled. “You’re not blaming this on me. I had nothing to do with you going to college. All I did was change your shift. And I’m going to change everyone else’s as soon as I have time to work out a new schedule.”

If Natalie hadn’t known him so well, she might have believed him. But she’d worked for him for over five years, and she knew from experience that when he decided to make changes around the place, he moved quickly. Once, he’d changed the entire menu and had the restaurant painted in a week. If he was going to change everyone’s shifts, he would have already done it.

“Okay,” she said, fighting a smile. “I guess I’m just a victim of coincidence and there’s no one to thank.”

“I guess so,” he grumbled. “Of course, you’re losing a lot of hours by missing two days of work every week. And I’m short-handed Saturday afternoon since Evelyn quit. I could really use some help if you’re interested in putting in some extra hours.”

Bent over his paperwork, he never looked up as he casually threw out the offer of more work. Watching him, torn between tears and laughter, Natalie could have kissed him. The rat! He didn’t need extra help on Saturdays—Evelyn had quit two months ago and he’d said on more than one occasion that he hadn’t really needed her, anyway! He was just trying to help her out financially.

If the world had been a perfect place, she would have sincerely thanked him for the offer and turned him down. She was spending too little time with her boys as it was, and she hated being away from them. But money was tight, and she had to make up the time and money she was losing wherever she could.

The boys would understand, she assured herself. And it wouldn’t be forever…just until she finished college and got a teaching job. Then she would be home whenever the boys were out of school, and she would no longer have to feel guilty for leaving them.

“I would love to work Saturdays or any other time you need me when I’m not in class,” she said huskily. “Thanks.”

Not surprisingly, he only grunted, “Don’t thank me. You’re doing me a favor. Now get to work before I dock you for standing around shootin’ the breeze.”

“Yes, sir,” she retorted, saluting smartly. “Anything you say, sir. I’ll get right on it, sir.”

Whirling, she stepped out of his office…just as he hit her in the back with a wadded up piece of paper. Grinning, she went to work.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.