Almost Perfect

He nodded sagely, as though he understood much more than she’d told him. He’d always had an amazing ability to read a person, to reach under the surface. She wondered what he saw in her.

“How about a glass of wine?” he asked. “I’ve never been partial to fancy liqueurs.”

“Sure. I hope you like a dry white. It’s all I have.”

She started toward the kitchen, but he strode forward and placed a hand upon her shoulder to still her steps. “Don’t bother, Maggie. I’ll get it. Just take a seat in the easy chair.”

He’d already reached the kitchen and had begun opening the cupboards before she could argue.

“Wineglasses are in the dining-room hutch,” she said. “And a bottle is chilling in the fridge.”

In no time at all, he’d prepared two drinks, then brought one to her. He nodded toward the chintz-covered easy chair and matching ottoman. “Now, sit down and put your feet up.”

She should have declined, but for some reason, a foot massage sounded incredibly nice. And luxurious. She padded across the room and took a seat, sinking into the softness of the chair Tom hadn’t liked.

Jake handed her a glass of wine, then straddled the ottoman. His knees corralled her feet. “Do you have any lotion?”

Kama Sutra oil came to mind, but she quickly whisked the naughty thought away. If she wasn’t careful, she’d embarrass them both with some crazy suggestion that would screw up a perfectly good friendship. No pun intended.

Good grief, she’d thought about sex more this evening than she had in the past year. What was it about Jake that made her mind stray in a sexual direction? Was it because the sensual cowboy knew how to treat a lady? Or was it her own fascination and curiosity?

“You have pretty feet. They’re soft and smooth. I like the polish.”

“I just had a pedicure,” she said, as though needing an explanation. “Because of the strappy sandals.”

“I hope you tipped her well. She did a great job.”

As he kneaded her foot, she found herself slipping back into the softness of the chair. She closed her eyes, relishing each deft movement of his fingers, his thumbs. And suddenly she wanted his hands to continue up her leg. The massage, at least in her mind, had turned into a sensual rub. And if it hadn’t felt so darn good, she would have told him to stop.

Jake watched Maggie slowly unwind and relax; the foot rub had helped. He’d given his share of massages in the past, with other women and usually as an act of foreplay. He’d offered one to Maggie as a token of friendship, not as a means to get her into bed. But it had a strange effect on him. He wanted to stroke her calf, work his way to her knee, along the inside of her thigh. Coax her into a state of arousal.

Her eyes opened, and she grazed him with a heated glance, one that told him she, too, was finding the massage far more stimulating than either of them had intended. Had she been any other woman, Jake would have known exactly what to do, what to say. But with Maggie, the words stuck in his throat.

He placed her foot on the ottoman, then picked up the other and continued to work. He’d hoped changing feet, and not progressing up her leg would ease the powerful urge he had to take her in his arms, to carry her to bed. But it hadn’t.

“You’re incredible,” she said.

He thought she meant his hands, but her eyes told another story, one he wasn’t prepared to pursue. Not if he wanted to wake up in the morning without any regrets.

Shoot, not that he’d regret making love to Maggie. But she was the one he was worried about, the one who’d been hurt, the one who needed time to mend. And Jake was the last guy in the world who could help her. She deserved more than a one-night stand, and that’s about all he could offer her.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

She lifted a brow, as though his experience bothered her. “Sharon said you had a slew of women chasing after you.”

He shrugged. “I’ve never made any promises about love and forever, but that doesn’t seem to keep women from wanting to change my attitude and my lifestyle.”

“And you have no intention of doing that?”

“I’m honest with the women I date. I’m not the marrying kind, but I do believe in one-on-one relationships until they don’t work anymore.”

“I guess having a family has curtailed your love life.”

Talking to Maggie about sex, or the lack of it, seemed strange. “I intend to provide those kids with the best home and family I can, even if it means hiring the right people to give it to them. And I’m not about to drag a ‘slew of women’ through their life. If that means a steady diet of celibacy, then I guess that’s what’ll happen.”

“You’ll be a good dad for them.”

“I don’t think so, but I’m going to try.”

Jake’s cell phone rang, interrupting the conversation he hadn’t wanted to continue. As he pulled the phone from the clip on his belt, apprehension dropped like a rock in the pit of his stomach. He hoped it wasn’t Rosa calling. His biggest fear was that something would happen to the kids he was supposed to protect.

Glancing at the lit display, he recognized the number and swallowed hard. It was Rosa, and she wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency.

Had Sam taken another tumble and cracked his noggin? The last one had blackened his little eye and required stitches.

Did Kayla have another fever? About a month ago, she ran a high temperature and lay around the house like a rag doll. Just a virus, the doctor had said, but the whole experience had scared Jake senseless.

He couldn’t eat or sleep when the kids were hurt or sick. Things like that hit him hard. He just wanted them to stay happy and healthy.

“Hello, Rosa.”

“It’s not Rosa, Jake. It’s her daughter, Sara.”

Panic backhanded him. Why couldn’t Rosa talk? Were Sam and Kayla okay? “What’s wrong?”

“The kids are fine,” Sara said. “But my mother is in the hospital and in a great deal of pain. The doctor said it’s her gall bladder and that she needs surgery. When can you come home?”

“I’ll try to fly standby first thing in the morning.” Jake glanced at Maggie, who sat attentively, her eyes intensely watching him. “Can you stay with the kids until I get home?”

Sara agreed, but asked him to hurry since she had to return to school on Monday morning.

When he hung up the phone, Maggie squeezed his hand. “What’s the matter?”

“Rosa needs to have surgery. I’ve got to get home.”

“Are the kids okay?”

“Yeah, Sara, her college-aged daughter, is with them.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Was it? That’s not the way he saw it. As long as Kayla and Sam were with someone other than Jake, they were fine. But what would happen when the poor kids had to depend on him to look after them? The thought of being more than a visiting uncle scared the devil out of him. What did he know about being a father? It’s not like he’d ever had a decent role model.

“Jake,” Maggie said. “You’re pale. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

He looked at her, unsure of how much he wanted to admit and deciding not too much. “I don’t know anything about kids. How am I going to take care of them without Rosa?”

“Hire someone.”