Playing For Keeps

“Is that a sparkle I see in your eyes?”

“Only reflecting the insane glint in yours.”

“Look…” Karleen’s lips moved, counting each candle before she turned her attention to the second cake. “Who told you to watch your back around Heather Sanchez our sophomore year, huh? And who made you let Eric Stone know you were available to go to homecoming? And what a night that turned out to be, right?”

“Never mind that I nearly died from embarrassment when my mother found the condoms in my purse.”

“And who told your mother they were hers so you wouldn’t get in trouble?” Joanna speared her with another look. “Okay, so maybe she didn’t believe me. But what I’m saying is, have I ever steered you wrong? I mean, yeah, we’ll have to think of some reason for you to see him again, but that shouldn’t be too hard. You have kids. He has a toy store.” She shrugged. “Not even you can deny how neatly everything’s falling into place.”

Joanna slapped a meat patty onto the growing pile on the plate beside her. The dog whimpered and leaned heavily against the lower cabinet. “Watch me.”

“For crying out loud, honey—the Olsen twins could be grandmothers by the time someone comes along who meets all your criteria. But hey, if you wanna sit around and watch your hymen grow back, what business is it of mine?”

“If that’s supposed to cheer me up, you’re failing miserably.”

“All I’m saying is,” Karleen went on, “if you deliberately pick someone you know is wrong for you, you won’t be tempted to think of him as husband material. No pressure, no expectations…what could be better than that? So, here…” She reached across the counter for her purse, pulling out what looked like a compact. “You better take this.”

Joanna glanced over. “I don’t use powder…oh,” she said when she caught sight of the glittering foil packets inside the now open compact. “Jeez. You still carry them with you?”

“I still shave my legs every morning, too. A girl can never be too prepared. And the compact’s nice ’cause you can sneak a peek at your makeup while the guy’s…you know.” She clicked shut the compact again, wiggling it in her hand. “Where should I put this?”

“Back in your purse.”

“You haven’t forgotten how to use them, have you?”

“Considering who taught me? Not bloody likely. It was years before I could look at a jumbo frank without blushing. But I can’t—”

“It’s not safe to expect the man to remember, you know.”

“Yes, I do. But I’d rather take care of things on an as-needed basis, okay?”

“Okay,” Karleen said at last, finally snapping open her purse and dropping the compact back inside.

“Karleen?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do, but did I ever tell you how much I hate sherbet?”

She shrugged. “Maybe you just haven’t tasted the right flavor yet.”

Joanna sighed.

A mile or so south, in the no-frills, three-bedroom apartment he’d been living in since his divorce, Bobby Alvarez leaned in the doorway to the master bedroom, trying to convince his stomach to unknot. Tori sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clamped on the mattress edge through the lacy white comforter she’d picked out, a tiny crease wedged between her brows. He’d seen that crease before. It always meant trouble.

“Hey,” he said lightly. “Jo just called, said it’s time to bring the kids back for the party. You about ready?”

Tori lifted her eyes, solemn and dark blue, outlined with some smudgy stuff that made them look even more solemn. She was almost as tall as him, but thin enough to look swallowed up in the baggy velour top she wore over a pair of jeans, an effect enhanced by her long, dark hair, which she wore loose and parted in the middle, like a teenager. “Do I have to go?”

This was no surprise. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Don’t you feel good?”

“I’m okay. It’s just…” The corners of her mouth twitched. “All those people, your family…”

Stifling what would have been a weighty sigh, Bobby closed the few feet between them, the mattress sagging when he sat beside her. “Aw, honey,” he said, looping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her to him, her flowery-smelling hair slippery under his cheek. “They’re gonna be your family, too, you know.”

“The kids, yeah.” She twisted the brand-new engagement ring—even getting it at Sam’s Club, it had pretty much wiped out his Visa—around and around her finger. “Not your ex. Or her parents.”

God, this sucked. The whole reason he’d fallen for Tori to begin with was because their relationship required little mental effort on his part. Not like him and Jo, who were like those two cats that still lived out in back of Joanna’s house and couldn’t cross paths without spitting at each other. And he was thrilled about the baby, even if he wasn’t about to admit to Jo or anybody else that he’d nearly had a coronary when Tori’d told him she’d found a tear in her diaphragm. How they were going to manage, what with a good chunk of what he was making already going to Jo and the kids, he had no idea. So he figured he had plenty of worries without having to deal with pregnancy hormones, too.

But ready or not, he had to, didn’t he?

“Hey. We talked this all through, remember?” And since talking things through wasn’t exactly Bobby’s strong suit, the prospect of tilling the same ground ad nauseum wasn’t exactly giving him a big thrill now. “About how everybody being together is gonna be inevitable from time to time? That it’ll be easier for the kids to accept you if you’re included in family get-togethers?”

“I know. But this is just so…weird. Not what I imagined, y’know?”

Praying for the smarts to get through the minefield without blowing off his balls, he said, “You knew I had kids from the get-go, Tor. It wasn’t like I sprung ’em on you.”

“I know. But…”

He saw her hands slip over her tummy and something primitive and possessive shot through him. In a way, it was kind of sexy, knowing he’d put the baby there. But it also signaled the onset of what amounted to nine straight months of PMS. Hell, if you wanted teenage boys to abstain from having sex too early, just lock ’em up with a pregnant woman for twenty-four hours. Guaranteed to kill any chance of an erection for a good five, maybe ten years.

“It’s just I watch you and Jo together,” she was saying, “and all I can think is, I can’t compete with that. With what the two of you still have.”

He panicked for a second, afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep up. “What are you talking about? All Jo and I do is fight.”

“Not always.”

“Okay, only like ninety percent of the time. And when we’re not, we’re either recovering from a fight or gearing up for one.”

“Because you still care about each other.”

“No, because we’re from two different planets.”

“But you have this…this history together.”

“Well, yeah. We were married for nine years. We have three kids we’re raisin’ together. I can’t change that, can I?”

She blew out a quick sigh through her nose. “No, I suppose not.”

“But now it’s time for you and me to make our own history, right?”

“And I’ll always be second.”

By his estimation, he had maybe ten seconds to defuse this bomb. “That’s not how I see it, honey. Yeah, maybe you’re…second, chronologically, but…okay—you know how a movie might be number one at the box office? But then, the next week another movie comes along and that movie is number one?”

She stiffened.

“Dammit, Tor…I’m lousy at this—”

“Oh, never mind,” Tori said on another sigh. “I know what you’re trying to say. It’s just I keep thinking, if your marriage to Jo didn’t work out, what’s to say ours will? And it’s not like I’ve got a whole lot of experience to fall back on. My mother’s been married and divorced twice. I haven’t seen my real father in years. So I’m not exactly feeling real secure. Especially as…”

“What?”

Tori gave him a look that scared the crap out of him, because she looked far too much like Jo did, there at the end. Still did, come to think of it.

“Look,” she said, “I know I had nothing to do with you two breaking up, but still. I feel bad. That I’m in the middle. That you’re in the middle. That I have you, and I’m so happy, and she has…nothing.” Then she pulled her feet up onto the edge of the bed, toying with one of her toe rings, her mouth all funny.

“What?”

“I can’t say it, it’s too tacky.”

“Tori, I’m not a mind reader. Whatever you’re thinking, just say it.”

After a moment she said, “It’s not that I resent the money you give to Joanna for the house and stuff, and certainly not whatever you pay for child support, but somehow…well, I wish she didn’t need to depend on you quite so much. And that really sounds selfish and stupid and horrible, but I don’t want to start out our lives together wondering if every time we buy something for us, we’re spending money that should go to your first family instead—”

“Dad?”

At the sound of his daughter’s voice, Tori pulled away. Dammit, they’d been dating for more than a year, living together for three months. The kids spent every weekend with them. In other words, their relationship was hardly a secret—and would be even less of a secret once he told the kids about the baby—but Tori refused to show any affection toward him when they were around.

Dulcy stuck her head in the door, her dark, thick curls struggling to escape her ponytail. As usual, she wore some loose top, her long legs encased in a pair of bleached-out jeans. She was nearly as tall as Jo now. Way she was growing, she might even end up passing Bobby. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

But he sure knew it scared the hell out of him to think there were boys just like he’d been out there, lying in wait….

“Dad? Hello? The boys are totally driving me nuts.” She frowned slightly at Tori but didn’t acknowledge her presence. “Can we please get going?”

“Sure. Just a sec, okay?”

With a huff, Dulcy stomped away.

“She hates me,” Tori said.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Right. She looks at me like I was something she found in back of the refrigerator.”

“Honey, she looks at everyone like that. If this is a girl—” he laid his hand on Tori’s belly and immediately felt stirrings that would do him absolutely no good right now “—she’ll look at you that way, too.”

Tori covered his hand with hers, which wasn’t helping the stirrings any. “How come you know so much about teenage girls?”

“I’ve got three sisters, remember? First time a girl looked at me like I wasn’t something she found in the back of the refrigerator, I couldn’t talk for three days.”

A small laugh bubbled out of Tori’s mouth. Then she said, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It’s not my place—”

“No, it’s okay, baby, I want you to feel you can tell me anything.”

Which wasn’t exactly true. Frankly, half the time women told him what they were thinking, he only got more confused. Like now. He was pretty sure he was supposed to do something about whatever was bothering Tori. He just had no clue what that might be.

“I love you,” Tori said, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.

“Aw, I love you, too, sweetheart,” he said, figuring he’d just hang on to that, for now. Then he kissed her, long and deep, deciding maybe all this communication garbage wasn’t so bad after all, once you got used to it.

But during the fifteen-minute drive to Jo’s house, the boys about to bust from excitement in the back seat of the Taurus—which made him realize he was going to have to go the minivan route, once the baby came, damn—he kept mulling over what Tori said, about Joanna’s being alone, about how it would be nice if there was somebody else to help out financially, since she was never going to get rich off those Santas she made, that was for sure.

The fact was, he worried about Joanna. A lot more than he’d ever admit to Tori, who’d for sure take it the wrong way. But he didn’t like the idea of Joanna being all by herself in that big house, when he had the kids. And he didn’t like the idea of her being lonely, either. Oh, she could act as independent as she wanted, but Bobby knew her. Joanna was a woman with a lot of love to give. Hell, why else would she have stuck out the marriage as long as she had? So, yeah. Joanna’s falling in love again, getting married again, would be a very good thing for everybody. Somebody good at fixing things would be a bonus. Or well off enough to pay for somebody else to do it. Somebody to take the heat off of Bobby. One of those win-win situations, you know?

But who? He’d tried to get Jo to go out with some of his friends, but she’d never gotten past a first date with any of ’em. If only he knew somebody he could nudge in her direction, y’know? Like when he used to sell cars, before Joanna’s father hooked him up with the advertising manager at the TV station. Somebody would come into the showroom and Bobby’d simply steer ’em toward the car he figured they’d like. Then, if they showed interest, he’d close the deal.

He really, really liked closing deals.

They pulled up in front of Jo’s house, the house he no longer lived in but was still expected to help keep up, Bobby frowning when he saw Karleen’s shiny white Expedition hogging half the driveway, parked behind the Playing for Keeps pickup. Huh. Guess they weren’t finished yet.

Huh.

The kids and Tori got out of the car—Tori had to pee every five minutes these days, seemed like—but Bobby sat there, thinking. Shoving the puzzle pieces around to see if he could get them to fit. Thinking about how, when he’d come out onto the patio earlier, he thought he’d picked up on some pretty heavy-duty, who-the-hell-are-you? vibes from Dale. As if Bobby’d interrupted something.

As if maybe the dude was interested in Joanna.

Now if maybe Joanna was interested back…

Aw, come on…it couldn’t be this easy.

Could it?

A grin stretched across his face.

Dale seemed nice enough, Bobby guessed he was okay to look at, and he probably had money. Hell, star players raked in serious bucks.

Of course, Joanna would probably have a fit if she knew what Bobby was thinking.

Which just meant Bobby’d better be good and sure she never found out.

Chapter 5

Great, Joanna thought. The kids were here, but the play set wasn’t finished. Once again, a man had made a promise he hadn’t kept. Except then Joanna walked out onto the back patio as the boys let out gleeful shrieks at their first glimpse of the set, and she thought, So what? What was important here? That her kids were happy, or that everything went according to her schedule?

And happy they were, bouncing around like a pair of fleas and bombarding Dale with a million questions. Neither twin had ever been the slightest bit shy about talking to strangers, which had been a constant source of worry to her when they were younger. That this particular stranger posed no threat to her sons was of little comfort, since she was the one in danger—from the way his expression lit up when the boys flew across the yard, his laughter as he hoisted them up into the fort.

Her stomach flip-flopped at the still-warm memory of her and Karleen’s conversation.

Talk about the power of suggestion. Left to her own devices, Joanna would never consider actually doing anything about her attraction to Dale. What would have been the point? But then Karleen’d had to go and mess with her head and make her think she needed something she didn’t, like the time she’d talked Joanna into buying a pair of boots she’d ended up wearing exactly once.

What a perfectly good waste of lust that had been.

Just as this would be.

“You’re staring,” Karleen said behind her, making her jump.

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Go to hell.”

That got what, from anyone else, would have been a cackle. From Karleen, who still had smoker’s voice even though she’d given it up five years ago, the sound was more like what an engine did when it didn’t want to turn over. “Looks like he’s good with kids.”

“I should hope so. Considering he owns a toy store.”

“Yeah, well, remember Mr. Salazar? Our Driver’s Ed teacher? The one who hated to drive?”

“Karleen, you can’t make opposing points in the same observation.”

“Speaking of points,” Karleen said, nodding toward the boys who were storming back toward Joanna at full tilt. Grinning, they wrapped all four arms around Joanna’s hips. Matt muttered a quick, “Thanks,” then took off again, leaving Ryder still clamped to her.

“This is the best birthday ever! Thanks, Mom!”

If it had been up to her, she would have told the kids outright the set came from her mother, but Glynnie had insisted they think it came from Bobby and her. Why it was okay for the kids to think their parents were spoiling them, but not their grandparents, was something Joanna had never understood. Especially considering the million and one Christmas gifts that appeared under the tree every year clearly labeled “From Geegee and Gramps.”

She smoothed back Ryder’s wild hair, then looked up to catch Dale watching them and thought, Oh, God, no. Not the lost-soul look. A flush blossomed across her skin, from all sorts of things. Surprise and consternation and, yes, dammit, arousal.

“You’re welcome, sugar pie,” she said, unhooking both her eyeballs and hormones from Dale and hugging close the small body that belonged to her. A slightly let-down feeling that this would probably be the last “little kids” birthday trickled through. By next year, who knew what the boys would be into?

Ryder took off, leaving his warmth imprinted on her skin, underneath the cotton sweater she’d put on. Her arms folded, her gaze followed his path back to the play set.

And Dale. Who was still watching her.

Karleen sniggered beside her.

“What’s so damn funny?”

“The way you two are playing pass-the-eyeball, for one thing. And if you dare tell me you’re not enjoying having a hunk like that gawk at you, I’m calling the undertaker, ’cause you must be dead.”

A good three or four seconds later Joanna said, “I’m not dead.”

Karleen let out a sigh of what sounded like relief, only to then mutter, as Bobby came around from the front of the house, “That’s my cue to make myself scarce before I say something I’ll regret.”

With that, Karleen hustled back inside. Bobby waved to Joanna, but kept on toward the swing set and the kids—Joanna assumed Dulcy and Tori must be inside the house—where he and Dale exchanged handshakes and head nods and a short conversation she couldn’t hear. Then Bobby turned to the boys and their mouths and eyes popped wide open as she heard excited babbling intermixed with, “You’ll have to ask your mother,” and she thought, Uh-oh.

Dale glanced her way for a moment, then back to Bobby, who only laughed and shook his head. Then she saw Dale mouth the words, “You sure?” which is when Joanna decided it was in her best interest to go find out what was going on and how this affected her immediate future.

“Mom!” Matt yelled when she got a few feet away, “did you know this is Dale Muhconney an’ he used to play baseball for the Braves an’ he was real famous and Dad said if it was okay with you, could he come to our party, pleeeeease, Mom?”

Joanna’s eyes snapped to Dale’s face, hoping for a, “Sorry, guys, but I’ve already got other plans.” Or something. When no such words came forth, Joanna took the rapidly retreating bull by the horns and said, “Guys, you know not all grown-ups get off on parties with a million crazed little kids—”

“I’ve got no problem with that,” Dale said, and she felt defeat settle in for the night as the kids jumped up and down and yelled, “Yaaay!”

“But only if it’s okay,” Dale said, his gaze fixed on her in a way that no man’s gaze had been fixed on her in many moons, and Bobby said, “Of course it’s okay, she always makes too much food for these things anyway,” and suddenly the air was filled with the acrid scent of conspiracy.

She didn’t know what, and she sure as hell didn’t know why, but whatever was going on here, she somehow got the feeling Dale’s motives for accepting this invitation went beyond a penchant for cake and ice cream. Because of that many-moons-gaze thing and all.

The man wants to get into your pants, birdbrain.

She sucked in a breath, braced for the wave of outrage. She should feel…insulted. Denigrated. Incensed.

What she felt was…wet.

Karleen would be beside herself.

“Of course it’s okay if you come. To the party,” she hastily added.

“But…what about Jose?”

Five heads turned to the little man as if just remembering his presence.

“No, is okay,” he said, waving, his grin revealing the hole where his front tooth should have been. “My wife, she expects me home soon.”

So that was that.

A few minutes later, after all the bolts and fastenings had been checked and Dale had gone, promising to return in forty-five minutes or so, Joanna turned to her ex-husband and uttered a single, loaded word.

“Why?”

Bobby shrugged. “Once I told the boys who he was, they naturally asked him to stay for the party. You know how you’ve always told the kids to feel free to invite their friends to come over. I guess Matt and Ry figured this fell into that category. It’s no big deal, right?”

But it was a big deal. For reasons she could hardly go into with her ex-husband. Because she wanted to jump Dale McConnaughy’s bones and she didn’t like wanting to jump Dale McConnaughy’s bones and the whole situation was making her very crabby.

“No, it’s no big deal,” she said, turning to go back inside the house just as she heard her parents coming in through the front door, Karleen complimenting Glynnie on an outfit Karleen had probably sold her. “So where’s Tori?”

“Bathroom, probably. Listen…” Bobby glanced behind him, then lowered his voice. “I know this is really crappy of me to ask, but do you think you could, like, be extra nice to her tonight?”

“And here I’d been so looking forward to making her miserable. Honestly, Bobby—when have I not been nice to Tori?”

“I know, I know…it’s just she’s kinda feeling a little sensitive right now, and she thinks…well, she’s not real sure how she fits in, you know?”

“And somehow, it’s my responsibility to make sure she does?”

“Dammit, Jo. Couldn’t you just say ‘sure, Bobby’ for once and not make everything such an issue?”

“But torturing you is the only fun I have these days.”

“Jeez.”

“Bobby. I like Tori. In fact, I probably like her better than I do you. And I’d never intentionally do anything to upset her or make her feel like she doesn’t belong. And yes, I’ll go out of my way this evening to be ‘extra’ nice to her. But if by ‘fitting in,’ you mean she’d rather I wasn’t in the picture at all…sorry, bub, but there’s not a whole lot I can do about that. We were married. We have kids. We’re still part of each other’s lives. Them’s the facts. So if she’s feeling insecure about your relationship—”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bobby said as Tori entered the kitchen, looking a little wan, very pretty and painfully young. Like Johnson-era Cher, but without the edge. “You want something to drink?”

“Some juice or water or something, maybe?”

Joanna waited a moment—it wasn’t as if Bobby didn’t know where things were—then gave up and went to the fridge herself. From outside, one of the kids screamed, “Daaaad!” and he left. Terrific.

“So,” Joanna said. “We’ve got apple, orange or cranberry-grape.”

“Orange, I guess. I read that folic acid is good for the baby?”

“Yeah. It is,” Joanna said, chalking up the prick to her heart as something not worth considering. After all, she thought as she poured the young woman a large glass of juice, even if she felt a smidgen of envy because Tori was pregnant, that was Bobby’s child she was carrying.

Jo handed Tori the juice. “So…congratulations. On the baby.”