Tanya Michaels - Mistletoe Mommy

Adam jerked his head toward the sunporch adjacent to the kitchen. Brenna moved closer for a better look through the window, sidestepping Morgan as the little girl rejoined Zoe and Geoff in the living room. Seated on a white-wicker padded bench, Eliza had River in her lap and was singing along mournfully to a tune from her iPod.

“Ah. The continuing saga of boy troubles?” Brenna asked.

“Yeah.” Adam leaned in to peer over her shoulder and check on his daughter. Brenna’s body heated at his nearness. He smelled like outdoors and sunshine. And he was close enough that she heard his breathing quicken.

Maybe she should fill him in on the platonic plan.

She ducked away from him, gesturing at the window. “You want me to go talk to her?”

He gnawed at the inside of his cheek. “Can you talk to her about it without letting her know I told you anything?”

She thought it over. “Can do.” Whether it would actually help was a different story, but it seemed like a fitting homage to Maggie and all the times she’d tried to bridge the natural gap between her and Brenna. Plus, it put space between Brenna and Adam.

Even without those reasons, though, she admitted to herself that she probably would have felt compelled to reach out to the girl. Unexpectedly Adam Varner and his entire family were getting under Brenna’s skin in a remarkably short period. They were tugging at heartstrings normally reserved for litters of puppies and stray kittens in the rain.

It was ironic that Dr. Varner helped people improve their heart function. Because the more time she spent in his company, the more erratically her heart seemed to behave.

“HEY.” BECAUSE OF the iPod, Brenna spoke louder than she normally would. “Mind if I join you for a few minutes?”

Sniffling, the girl averted her face. “It’s your house.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question.” Brenna stood in front of the girl, scratching River under her chin. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend here.”

It had been the wrong thing to say.

“I don’t need new friends. I need my real ones, back home! They’re the people I want to talk to. Or even my mom. Do you know how gross it is to talk to a dad about boys?”

“Can’t say that I do. I never got up the courage to try.” She wasn’t sure who it would have psychologically scarred more, her or Fred. The man loved her, no question of that, but when it came to “female matters,” he’d invariably punted her in Maggie’s direction. “It just seemed too awkward.”

Eliza nodded repeatedly. “It is. Trust me. And what does he know, anyway?”

“Cut him some slack, Eliza. Your dad’s an intelligent guy, and he cares about you.”

“That doesn’t make him an expert on dating. He hasn’t had a girlfriend since my mom.”

Really? Women in Knoxville don’t know what they’re missing. Of course, Brenna doubted he kept his children posted on the particulars of his love life, so it was possible he was more experienced than they realized. For instance, she was certain they didn’t know about that kiss the other night-and she planned to keep it that way.

“What about you?” Eliza demanded suddenly. “You’re probably smarter about romance than him. Do you date often?”

Brenna guffawed. “Even less than your dad, actually.”

“But you’re pretty. And you have…” Eliza didn’t finish her sentence, but she glanced meaningfully in the vicinity of Brenna’s chest. “My friend Dee says that’s all a girl needs to attract a guy.”

There were so many things wrong with that statement-not that it was completely without truth-Brenna didn’t know where to start. “Those guys aren’t really worth attracting.”

“What kind are?”

“Scoot over.” It would be a snug fit, but the bench could accommodate both of them. Since it looked as if Brenna might need a few minutes to come up with answers, she preferred to get off her feet. “Okay. Boys are a pain in the you-know-what.”

Eliza giggled. Progress.

“But some of them are at least worth the trouble. Hold out for one of those, one who respects you, who’s courteous. He should be honest with you and listen when you talk. He needs to recognize your boundaries and not push you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“I know this part,” Eliza said, rolling her eyes.

“All right. Well, since you should also listen when he talks, it helps if you have some common interests. And if he’s funny.”

The girl frowned. “Bobby likes to talk mostly about Camaros and himself. Hearing about him was interesting at first, but…”

“Did he ever ask about you?”

“Not really.”

“Find a guy who does. But there’s no hurry,” she stipulated.

That earned her another eye roll, but Eliza’s expression was much brighter than it had been. She set River aside and got to her feet. “Is dinner almost ready? I think I’m hungry.”

Brenna figured that doing a victory dance would be inappropriate-or make her look like an idiot, at any rate-but the impulse was there. While she wasn’t naive enough to think that Eliza would go forth and never suffer boy troubles again, helping the adolescent past this hiccup was far more rewarding than she could have predicted.

At the door leading back into the main house, Eliza paused. “What about you, Ms. Pierce? Is the reason you don’t date much because you’re still holding out? You haven’t found a guy who’s funny and respectful and a good listener?”

Brenna blinked, surprised to find herself the topic of conversation again. “Oh. I’ve been lucky enough to find a couple of guys who fit that description, but none of them were quite…I don’t have that much time to date. I work a lot.”

Eliza’s mouth thinned. “Like my father.” She clearly didn’t mean it as a compliment.

“He does an important job.” She experienced an uncharacteristically self-conscious moment when she compared their occupations. Scooping kitty litter and sprinkling fish flakes into an aquarium sounded a bit less impressive.

“People are important, too.” Eliza crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Maybe you aren’t as smart about relationships as I thought.”

Wanting to ensure that he didn’t undo everything his kids had learned about good manners in three weeks, Adam made it clear that they were responsible for the dishes this time. Of course, that only consisted of throwing empty containers in the garbage and scrubbing five plates.

“Before we go, can we play with River and Zoe for just a few minutes?” Morgan begged. The three of them were endlessly entertained by the way the cat chased after toys just like the dog.

He deferred to Brenna, glancing her way with raised eyebrows.

“Ten minutes,” she said.

Not wanting to waste any of that, the kids disappeared into the backyard with a stampede of footsteps and the back door banging shut.

He’d been dying to know how her conversation with Eliza went-was the girl difficult with all adults, or was it just him?-but hadn’t been able to get specifics until now. “So-”

“Do you want coffee?” Brenna asked brightly. “I could make us some coffee.”

“Didn’t we just give the kids a ten-minute warning?” He was pretty sure they couldn’t brew and subsequently chug a hot beverage in that amount of time. Was this Brenna’s way of demonstrating that she was reluctant for their evening to end?

“Right.” She cast rather desperate looks about her small kitchen. “It’s really too hot for coffee, anyway. What we need is something cold. Ice-cream floats?”

“Brenna, are you trying to find something to do because you’re…nervous? About being alone with me?” If that was the case, should he be flattered or appalled? He didn’t want to scare her.

She took a deep breath, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “You caught me. I am a little apprehensive that…”

“That I might kiss you again?” Nice going, Varner. You’ve driven the woman to an anxiety attack.

Brenna’s gaze collided with his. “No, that I might kiss you.”

Her words, delivered with such artless sensuality, seared him. “I would be okay with that. Just so you know.”

She laughed, but it had a hoarse, husky edge to it. “But would your kids be okay with it?”

He wanted to say that they were irrelevant to the discussion at hand, but he was a father-his children were never irrelevant. And he guiltily recalled the questions he’d fielded on their very first day in Mistletoe, when he’d all but promised them he wouldn’t seek out any romantic connections while they were here. Fresh on the heels of Sara’s marriage, it was natural for the kids to be curious about his dating. Morgan already adored Brenna; it would be dangerous to encourage that. Eliza, on the other hand, was thawing toward him bit by bit and would no doubt freeze up in betrayed disapproval if he got too close to Brenna in their limited time together.

And it would be limited. He hadn’t been able to retain a strong relationship with his own family who lived under the same roof as him. He didn’t delude himself that he was cut out for the rigors of a long-distance relationship. Not with his job and three children who deserved as much time as he could give them.

Frustrated, he plowed a hand through his hair. “I wish things were different.”

“Oh, you have no idea how many times I’ve had reason to think that.” She gave him a bittersweet smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you kissed me the other day. I just don’t think it’s a good idea…”

“I agree.” In practice, if not in spirit.

Silence descended on them.

Brenna rocked back on her heels. “If we’re gonna spend the next five minutes in painful awkwardness, we might as well get comfortable. Want to join me in the living room?”