Magic In A Jelly Jar

Once he’d finally gotten them into bed, Joe put a hand to the back of his neck and tried to work out the tension in the muscles there. Somewhere he had to find another glow-in-the-dark toothbrush—a pink one, because that was Dani’s favorite color. And he had to find a way to talk his daughter out of a trip to the magic dentist, because he wasn’t sure if he could stand there and let Samantha Carter pull another silk scarf from his shirt pocket.

He wondered what kind of magic she used to make that little jolt of awareness shoot through him when her fingertips flitted across his chest for all of half a second. Something from her bag of tricks? He wanted to ask but didn’t think it would be wise for him to see her again.

Because he didn’t believe in magic, yet he was crazy enough to think he’d seen a shooting star on the ceiling in her office today. Joe had almost asked her about the special paint. But she’d think he was nuts, that it was no wonder his son pulled little girls’ teeth on the playground and kept them in a jelly jar in the top of his closet.

Joe shook his head and indulged in the chance to swear out loud, because the kids were asleep.

He was going to stay far, far away from Samantha Carter.

Wandering through the house, he picked up things here and there. Dani’s shoes and dirty socks that made a trail from the hallway to the living room. As usual she’d kicked them off while she made her way from one room to the next. No amount of talking made the least bit of difference about that particular bad habit of hers.

Luke’s book bag from school was on the kitchen table, and Joe dug the lunch box out of the book bag so he could discard whatever Luke hadn’t finished of his lunch. Too many times Joe had forgotten, and the mess that confronted him inside the lunch box on a Monday morning was something he could do without.

Inside the book bag, he also found Luke’s jacket and two sheets of math problems due tomorrow, all of them wadded into a neat little ball. Maybe they could smooth out the math sheets enough that Luke could turn them in.

As Joe picked up the book bag to put it away, he realized it weighed more than it should have. There was something else inside it.

A rock? That was Joe’s first thought. Luke loved rocks. For some reason, he didn’t think they had enough of them here, so he collected them at school and brought them home with him.

He unzipped pockets one by one until he hit on the one that held something long and thin and heavy. Joe’s fingers closed around it and drew it out of the book bag.

“Dammit, Luke,” he said.

In his hand was the tooth-fairy figurine he’d found Luke admiring in the lobby of Samantha Carter’s office when Joe had gone to get him. She had long blond hair, a blue dress with stars and a magic wand with fairy dust streaming after it. Luke must have swiped the figurine while Joe was settling the bill.

Which meant Joe would have to see Samantha again.

He tested out his feelings on the subject. He was not happy. He refused to be. So what if the woman was gorgeous and somehow looked as vulnerable as a fairy who’d gotten her wings singed? So what if touching her, in the simplest of ways, had the power to make him tremble like an overeager teenage boy.

He wasn’t going to do anything about it. He couldn’t. He had his kids to think about. Kids who’d cried themselves to sleep too many nights to count over a woman who was never coming back to them, one he suspected didn’t give them a second thought these days.

No woman was ever going to hurt them again. Joe would see to it.

That meant Samantha Carter was off-limits. He and Luke would take the fairy back and be done with the woman.

Samantha didn’t even get a chance to catch her breath until well past noon. A member of the office staff was kind enough to make a run to the nearby sandwich shop and take orders, so Samantha had a turkey sandwich on whole wheat, a diet soda and all of five minutes to down both before her next patient would be ready for her.

Leaning back into the big leather chair, she let the sandwich sit there on her desk, let the soda get warm and go flat. Feeling altogether out of sorts today, she swiveled around in her chair and gave in to the need to let herself think about Joe Morgan and his adorable son.

They were all she’d heard about today. It seemed they’d charmed the entire office staff, and Samantha had given herself away half-a-dozen times when she’d been teased about Mr. Morgan, Sr. He was so polite. He had a delicious Texas drawl. He was not married anymore. He didn’t seem at all caught up in his own charms, an affliction that tended to absolutely ruin most truly good-looking men. She’d gotten those choice bits of gossip within the first five minutes of arriving in the office. By noon someone had started a pool that had grown to twenty-five dollars already. The bet—how long it would be before he called back.

“Am I that transparent?” Samantha complained, when she was closeted in her office at twelve-thirty with her forty-something, normally no-nonsense office manager, Dixie, who’d just given her the latest update on the pool.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you really smile at anyone over twelve in six weeks. We’ve been worried about you, sweetie. Besides, he really is cute.”

“Lots of men are cute,” she argued.

“Not that cute. Besides, I think he’s nice, too. I liked the way he talked to his little boy. You can tell everything important about a man by the way he talks to his kids,” Dixie claimed.

“If you catch him when no one’s listening,” Sam said. She’d found many parents who were totally different with their kids when they thought no one was listening. And she certainly hadn’t been listening when Richard talked to the girls. She’d missed a great deal there.

“I liked him, and I’m no pushover.” Dixie pointed to the turkey on whole wheat and the soda. “And you owe me five and a quarter.”

“I’ll buy tomorrow?” Sam suggested.

“Fine by me. Unless I win the pot. Then we’ll hit that little French place around the corner for some serious take-out.”

“Dixie! You got in on this?”

“Of course. I don’t suppose you’d like to call him? The bet’s good either way. It doesn’t matter who makes the call, just as long as the two of you talk.”

“No, I’m not going to call him.”

“We have his number,” she offered. “We even have his address.”

“No.”

Dixie laughed and headed for the door. “I have to get back to work. My boss is a slave driver.”

Samantha sighed and told herself to eat. She didn’t have much time. But now she couldn’t help herself. She was thinking about the Morgan men, despite all her intentions not to.

Taken individually, either Joe or his son would have caught her interest. Together they were simply devastating. Luke was just too cute, too full of energy and exuberance and shyly given smiles. She’d felt like a great treasure had been bestowed upon her when Luke smiled. Samantha had done her best to put the fear of God into him when it came to working on other children’s teeth, but it had been hard to do with Luke practically dancing with excitement and begging her to admit to being the tooth fairy in disguise.

Laughter bubbled up inside her. The tooth fairy?

She wished she was, so she could conjure up whatever Luke wanted so badly. As hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t convinced Luke to tell her what that was. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell him that sometimes wishing simply wasn’t enough.

Though she knew little about Luke’s situation, she understood quite clearly that Luke needed to believe the magic was real, and she suspected that need came from his wish to have his absent mother back.

Samantha didn’t see a lot of dads bring children to her office. She suspected Joe was all Luke had, and that had her wondering if she’d see him again.

It had her thinking of making a fool of herself by pulling a scarf out of his shirt pocket in an effort to make him smile. Joe Morgan looked as if he needed a reason to smile as badly as his son did, and Samantha’s first impulse had been to give him one, because she’d wanted to see him smile, too.

Her face burned at the memory of being so foolish as to treat a grown man like a little boy.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if Joe hadn’t been…well…

Stop it, Samantha, she chastised herself.

So he was good-looking. That didn’t mean anything, unless she wanted a man she could simply enjoy looking at from time to time. She couldn’t very well sit him in a corner, like a beautiful piece of furniture, or hang him on a wall like a painting and admire him.

So he was charming, in that down-home, straight-off-the-ranch sort of way. Since when did she melt over a man with a Texas accent?

She’d never had a cowboy fantasy in her life, but when she’d closed her eyes the night before, the first thing she saw was a grinning Joe Morgan in a cowboy hat, a dusty pair of jeans and well-worn boots.

Yum, she thought, unable to help herself for a second.

She wasn’t even looking for a man. The last thing she wanted or needed was a man. And the absolute last thing she’d allow herself to want or need was a man with kids.