Читать книгу Storybook Romance - Lissa Manley, Lissa Manley - Страница 12

Chapter Four

“Look how high I can go!” Nicky squealed. “Higher, higher!”

“I can go as high as Nicky,” Rosie cried. “Higher, Daddy, higher.”

Sam gave Rosie another push, then gave Allison a wry smile. “Looks like we have ourselves a little competition here.”

She pushed Nicky and returned Sam’s smile. “When you were a kid, did you ever wish you could go so high you’d go all the way around on the swing?”

“Of course.” He pushed Rosie again, a bit harder, yet still lightly. In actuality, they weren’t going high at all, except from a three-year-old’s perspective. “Doesn’t everybody wish that?”

“Good point,” Allison replied. “The swings were always my favorite. The monkey bars came in a close second.”

“I always liked the slide,” Sam replied. “We used to have races to see who could get in the most trips down during recess.”

“We did that, too,” Allison said. A breeze kicked up and blew her long, dark hair around her face. Between pushing Nicky, she tried to corral the errant strands.

Sam couldn’t help but notice her profile, complete with perfect nose and high cheekbones. She really was pretty, but her appeal went much deeper than simple good looks. He’d seen through her interactions with the twins that Allison possessed a kind and good heart, as well as a compassionate nature.

“Daddy, I’m gonna play in the sandbox,” Rosie said, pointing at the large, wood-sided sandbox embedded in the grass to their left.

He caught her and stopped her forward motion. “Okay, honey. You want to go play in the sandbox, Nicky?” Gingerly, he lifted her off the swing.

“Yes, sandbox!” Nicky shouted.

“Okay, bud.” Allison grabbed Nicky and brought him to a stop and lifted him to the ground. “There you go.”

Both kids ran off and plunked themselves down in the sandbox.

Sam turned to Allison and an idea hit him. “You want me to push you on the swing?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” With a bright smile, she went around to the front of the swing and sat down in the black rubber seat. “Let’s make this baby fly,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at him, her eyes sparkling like ocean-blue jewels. She flicked her feet at the cedar chips on the ground to get herself moving. “Maybe I’ll go all the way around!”

Her excitement was contagious. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” As she swung backward, he grabbed the swing’s chains down low and pulled, putting his back into it. “Here we go.”

She was light as a feather, so it wasn’t hard to pull her up and back a long way, until her feet were off the ground. He held her there and leaned in close to her. “You ready?”

She bounced in the seat. “Ready.”

Just then, the wind blew her silky hair across his face. He froze, and the subtle scent of peaches surrounded him for a second. Instantly his knees went weak. For just a moment he had the undeniable urge to bend even closer and bury his face in that soft, fragrant mass of hair.

“Sam?” She quickly turned.

He couldn’t back up, and they ended up face-to-face, only inches apart. She froze, her lips slack, her blue gaze wide. He was so close he could see the light gray flecks in her eyes.

So close he’d only have to move a little bit and he’d be kissing her....

That stunning thought knocked some sense into him. With a remarkable amount of smoothness, considering the situation, he backed up a bit and gave her a smile, hoping he looked calm, cool and collected when he felt anything but. “Here we go.” He somehow managed to sound carefree, not strangled and flustered. Good. He could do suave. Kind of.

With a burst of power he pulled her up higher and then let her go.

She swung forward, pumping her legs and leaning back in perfect playground-swing style. Then she made the trip backward, her feet tucked underneath her as she leaned slightly forward. At just the right moment, honed from years on the playground as a kid, he firmly but gently pushed her slim back and she sailed forward, her hair flying behind her.

A crystal-clear laugh rang out and his breath caught in his chest at the pure sound of joy echoing in the evening air. He smiled, her delight his, her blithe happiness filtering into his blood. And so it went, her swinging back with him pushing her, establishing the perfect cadence, a perfect connection, no words needed. Swing. Push. Repeat.

He glanced at the sandbox to be sure the twins were okay. They were both seated in the sand, happily playing away, so Sam kept pushing. Soon Allison swung almost parallel with the top bar of the swing’s frame, so much so that she was starting to drop on her way back toward him instead of swinging smoothly. She let out a squeal, and suddenly he worried it was a fearful squeal rather than a delighted one, that she was soaring too high too fast. So on her next swing back, he acted on instinct and grabbed her around her slender waist.

Once he had a hold on her, he ran to stop her forward progress. “Whoa, there.”

She came to a jerky stop. Safe and sound. Unable to help himself, he left his arms around her, his head tucked in close to her shoulder from the back for just a moment. The fresh, fruity smell of her hair blasted him again, along with the feel of her so tantalizingly close to him. The now-familiar knee weakness hit him so hard he almost stumbled. By sheer will he pulled back and kept himself from face planting at her feet.

She giggled. “Wow, that was so much fun,” she said, turning, her face glowing rosy pink, her wind-tossed hair tumbling down around her shoulders. “It’s amazing how something as simple as a swing on a playground can make all my cares just disappear.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” He smiled, trying not to stare at the pretty picture she made with the green grass as the perfect backdrop for her quiet yet disarming beauty. “Great minds, right?”

She stood. “Oh, definitely.” A slender eyebrow went up and she gestured to the swing. “You want a turn? It’s even better from there.”

He didn’t know how the experience could be better than watching her fly, hearing her laugh and having her hair close enough to smell. But he couldn’t say that without looking foolish. However, the thought of having her hands on his back, of sharing his delight with her, beckoned like an impossible dream. One he hadn’t allowed in a very long time.

For good reason.

Instantly reality crashed down on his head and he thought about soaring too high too fast. Not a good plan. Better to stay safe. Contained. In control. In all aspects of his life. He opened his mouth to reply, “no, thanks,” only to be interrupted by Rosie’s shriek. “Daddy! Nicky throwed sand on me!”

Sam darted his gaze to the sandbox. Rosie still sat there, only now huge globs of sand were stuck to her dark hair. Nicky stood in the grass, his eyes reflecting a mulish light.

Sam held up a hand to Allison. “Excuse me.” He went over to the sandbox. “Is this true, Nicky? Did you throw sand on your sister?” Sam asked in a stern voice.

“Ro-ro’s tryin’ to boss me,” Nicky said, his lower lip sticking out in a pronounced pout, which Sam knew was a sure sign of guilt in Nicky.

“He stealed my sand,” Rosie said with a glower of her own as she gestured to the whole sandbox. Obviously she thought every grain of sand was hers. Sam sighed. They’d need to work on sharing. A lot.

“My sand.” Nicky pointed at Rosie with a rigid finger.

Rosie bossing and Nicky reacting like this was a familiar skirmish, and Sam was growing tired of the conflict, especially when it involved silly things like sand. He did his best to keep his patience. “Hey, now, you two, let’s calm down. There’s enough sand for everyone.” Sounded logical.

Nicky bent and picked up a handful of sand. “My sand,” he said again, holding his hand up, obviously getting ready to hurl it at Rosie again.

“Nicky, do not throw that sand at your sister,” Sam commanded, shaking a finger.

Nicky wound up—

“Nicky?” Allison called. “How about I push you on the swing?”

Nicky’s gaze swung toward Allison just as Sam’s did.

“Swing?” Nicky asked, lowering his fistful of sand.

“Sure.” Allison crooked a finger. “I’d love to give you a fun ride, with my very special touch.”

Nicky dropped the sand at his feet, on to more attractive things, apparently. “Okay. I am special.” He ran to the swings and held up his arms to Allison. “Help me up.”

Figuratively, Sam’s jaw fell. Allison made refereeing the kids look so easy. So second nature for her. He looked at her, blinking, feeling like the parenting idiot Teresa always accused him of being.

As she lifted Nicky into the swing, she mouthed the word distraction.

“Ah,” he murmured. Smart woman. He needed to pay attention to her. Should be easy, considering how much he enjoyed being around her. And the twins. They enjoyed her, too.

Sam sat down on the edge of the sandbox and played with Rosie as she shaped sand into mountains. He kept one eye on Allison and Nicky—well, maybe both eyes, but who was keeping score?

In no time at all Allison had Nicky gently swinging, with a few easy spins thrown in for that special touch she spoke about. Nicky giggled and kicked his feet in obvious delight.

Just about the time Rosie had her third mountain completed, she started to whine and rub her eyes with the backs of her hands. Tiredness was setting in after their fun evening, and the kids’ bedtime was looming. Time to go. He only hoped he could get Nicky out of the park without a tantrum.

Sam stood. “I think it’s time to head home, kids.”

Nicky howled. “Nooo!” There it was, his usual reaction—argue and throw a fit. “I want to stay!” His face reddened and Sam knew tears would be next; Nicky was nothing if not predictable. Sam’s brain scrambled for a way to deal with his son’s behavior. Cajoling? Bribery? Discipline? Nothing much worked reliably, and he was out of ideas.

Before he could come up with a plan, Allison caught the swing and stopped Nicky. “Are you sure? ’Cause if you cooperate with your dad, I’ll give you a piggyback ride to the car.”

“Piggyback?” Nicky said.

“You bet,” Allison replied. “But you have to mind your dad, all right?”

“Okay.” Appeased, Nicky scooted out of the swing and held his arms up. “I love piggyback.”

Sam was dumbfounded.

Allison knelt. “Okay, then, Mr. Nicky.” She gestured to her back. “Climb on and maybe we can pretend I’m your horse.”

“Me, too.” Rosie clambered to her feet, smashing one of her carefully crafted sand mountains in the process. “I want a horsey piggyback, Daddy.”

“Okay, Rosie.” He knelt and crouched way down. “Get on my back and maybe we can race Miss Allison and Nicky.”

“Race!” Rosie crowed as she crawled onto his back. “I will win!”

“Yeah, we race!” Nicky squealed, clearly willing to go with the flow for something fun. Wasn’t it amazing how fast toddlers’ attention shifted when presented with entertaining options? Allison was a master at that tactic, whereas he usually just did what his own dad had done and imposed his will on them. Not that Dad was ever mean or abusive, but it had been clear who was boss in the Franklin household.

Allison’s approach was clearly better, and he marveled at her creativity in dealing with the twins. He’d better pay attention.

He rose, and Allison moved over next to him with Nicky on her back. “Okay, are you two ready for a race?” she asked with a brilliant smile that had Sam’s heart twitching.

“I’m ready!” Nicky kicked his feet at Allison’s hips. “Let’s go.”

“I’m ready, too,” Rosie announced, bouncing on Sam’s back like a real cowgirl. “Go!”

Sam looked at Allison. “You ready?”

Suddenly, she jerked sideways and started running. “See ya later!” she yelled over Nicky’s squeals.

Dead surprise froze Sam for a few seconds. Why, that little schemer, she’d jumped the gun.

“Run, Daddy, run!” Rosie said, kicking her legs at his sides.

Belatedly, he broke into a trot as he tightened his hands on Rosie’s lower legs to hold her in place. “Hold on, Rosie-girl! I’m gonna have to run fast to catch up.”

Rosie giggled and bounced. “Okay, Daddy! Geeyup!” she said, mangling giddyup in her cute little way.

He moved along as fast as he could, but Allison had a pretty good head start and seemed to have the whole piggyback-horsey thing down to a science. She ran smoothly yet with purpose, keeping Nicky firmly on her back, whereas Sam had to slow down to keep Rosie from tumbling off.

How did Allison do that?

By the time he reached the edge of the park, which bordered the parking lot of the Everything, Allison was already around the corner, presumably reaching his car in record time.

He picked up the pace as he hit the parking lot, squeezing Rosie’s legs harder, hoping to make up time with a final push. But, sure enough, as he rounded the corner, he saw Allison and Nicky reach the car. Nicky’s shrieks of glee echoed in the dusk-tinged air.

A few seconds later, Sam arrived at the race finish, breathing hard. Rosie was giggling so much she seemed incapable of speaking. Nicky was bouncing on Allison’s back, his face split into a delight-fueled smile.

Allison appeared barely winded.

“You jumped the gun,” Sam managed to say, hiking Rosie up higher on his back. “And you’ve clearly had piggyback horse races before.”

“You’ve got me there.” Allison inclined her head to the side and flashed him an impish grin. “I did this all the time when my sisters were little.”