Right from the Start (13 page)

Will cut away the drywall with a utility knife to reveal the
electrical receptacle hidden beneath.

“Wow,” she said to distract herself from everything going on
inside her.

She had the tools to rein in her emotions, to make constructive
choices, but keeping them under control proved a struggle. Was there really any
wonder why her classes were always full?

He set the chunk of drywall aside. “I’d like to say stupid
things like this don’t ever happen, but I’d be lying. Sorry is about all I can
say.”

“I’m just glad you realized what happened. It wasn’t really
noticeable.” A thought occurred to her. “How did you know, Will?”

“I know where the outlets go, Kenzie,” he said wryly. “You said
it wasn’t there, and it should be. Simple. I oversee the work my people do.
That’s my job.”

When he wasn’t actually doing the work himself, which he did a
lot. She kept that to herself, but she knew this sort of work ethic intimately,
the kind her parents would approve of.

“Well, I appreciate you doing your job so thoroughly and taking
care of the problem.”
Before
the building burned
down or whatever happened when live wires were exposed under the drywall.

“I suppose if this is the worst obstacle we face, then I
shouldn’t complain.” He appeared to be checking wires, making sure everything
was in order.

“So how’s Sam?” she asked.

“An okay day, from what Guadalupe tells me. Haven’t seen him
since I dropped him off this morning.”

“Who’s Guadalupe?”

“Sam’s sitter. His Spanish nanny. If he ever finds his words,
I’m hoping he’ll be bilingual.” The comment was lighthearted, but there was so
much in there.

Finds his words.
Did that mean Sam
didn’t speak at all? He certainly hadn’t spoken during their time together.
She’d noticed, hadn’t been sure if he’d just been quiet because he’d been around
a new person.

She hadn’t asked. Wouldn’t.

But she remembered Sam, the energetic child who had spun
circles in the dance studio to get the wiggles out, as Will had called it, until
most people would have fallen on their faces with dizziness or motion
sickness.

Sam had really seemed to enjoy the open space to move around
unhindered.

A born dancer, Madame Estelle would have noticed and encouraged
his interest. She was always on the lookout for boys to study dance because
there were never enough for the male roles in theatrical performances.

She wondered what Will would have thought of that. She’d had
friends whose fathers wouldn’t consider letting their sons dance. Nathanial’s
had been one of them. Pop Wright had very clear boundaries about what
constituted acceptable male and female activities. Nathanial had broken his arm
in the third grade, and Pop Wright had exercised executive privilege and vetoed
a pink cast.

Kenzie supposed Will had a different yardstick for what
comprised normal childhood activities. Computer games and spinning were two that
she knew of. And ball in the park. Then again, maybe not so different after
all.

He lived such a challenging situation, and without help from
Sam’s mother. Why? Sam’s mother had seemed so genuine in her determination to
keep him, and Kenzie was usually a fair judge of character—an essential tool in
her work. There was so much more to this story than she knew.

The mystery of this man continued to deepen. As if the waters
weren’t muddy enough with her crazy awareness of him, the newfound knowledge
that he was a dad raising Sam alone made it harder for her to remember her
initial reservations about him.

That must be hard as a single parent. Tough enough for a
mother. What about a father who wasn’t inherently wired to nurture and think for
everyone around him?

Yet when she thought of Will with his son...in the park playing
ball, during dinner made up of party leftovers, directing him from computer
games to pirouettes in the studio, Kenzie melted at the sight of this big, oh,
so masculine man and his charming smiles and gentle ways.

“Damn it.” Will growled. The plate fell off with a clatter. A
screw skittered over the newly refinished floor and he lunged for it before it
could get away.

“May I help?” She hurried over. Didn’t take a rocket scientist
to figure out what the trouble was.

Big man with big hands. Teeny-tiny screw.

However, she did question why she’d instinctively assumed that
a general contractor would need
her
help to screw on
an outlet cover. But before she could come up with an answer she was willing to
live with, Kenzie had reached him and was scooting down at his direction. She
accepted the screw he dropped into her hand. They crouched close together, as if
trying to occupy the very same space to tackle this daunting job.

He lined up the cover plate over the receptacle. “If you can
get the screw in there and aligned, I’ll do the rest.”

His voice sounded throatier with their heads bent close, so
close she might have rested hers against his shoulder.

She’d never had trouble with fine motor skills, but suddenly
Kenzie’s efforts felt heavy-handed and forced as if accomplishing the task was
cause for breathless anticipation.

Coaxing the screw into the small hole, she swiveled it gently
to find the groove. “There.”

His motions were so much surer as he pressed the plate against
the wall and twisted the screwdriver a few times.

“There you are. Thanks.” His words hummed through her, a trick
of proximity, because their thighs were nearly aligned.

She could sense the warmth of his body through this barest
touch. Or maybe that was simply her imagination. But the gaze he fixed on her,
clear as crystal and equally direct, suggested she wasn’t the only one to notice
their proximity.

“Excuse me,” said a voice as cool as springwater. A familiar
voice that prompted Kenzie to tear her gaze away.

Nathanial.
His greeting was her
first clue something wasn’t right. Her second was when she looked at him.
Distance shielded his expression, was evident all over his handsome face.

“Nathanial.” She sprang to her feet, suddenly jumpy and swamped
with guilt as if she’d been caught red-handed.

She
had
been caught, a tiny voice
inside chided. Caught in the throes of guilty pleasure, being aware of another
man and reacting—didn’t matter that it was against her will—in a way that was
all excitement and inner child. So opposite from the steady slow burn of her
adult relationship with Nathanial. Whether or not they were currently
together.

“You remember Will Russell?” she managed to say while crossing
the distance between them and kissing Nathanial’s cool cheek in greeting.

“I remember,” Nathanial said. “Our newest councilman.”

Kenzie could tell he wasn’t sure what he’d walked in on and did
not like what he’d seen one bit. She knew him so well.

Will stood and crossed the distance, too, extending his hand.
“Hey,” was all he said, but his unsmiling expression seemed to emphasize his
point about needing a bell on the door because anyone could just stroll in off
the street.

Kenzie wasn’t sure why she had that impression, when she didn’t
know Will at all. But suddenly she felt as if all the air had been sucked out of
the room as she stood sandwiched between these two men, both dressed to the
nines in their pricey suits. The moment became surreal.

Somehow Will managed to dwarf Nathanial, who was a pretty
sizeable man. But Will’s raw masculinity cast Nathanial’s polished good looks in
such a different light.

Nathanial was all goldenly handsome and always impeccably
dressed. Will was quite the opposite with his glossy hair and five o’clock
shadow, not even able to make a full day without stubble darkening where dimples
should have been.

Day and night.

And such a fanciful thought for a woman unused to being
fanciful. She was losing her mind, Kenzie decided. The haste of this move had
finally robbed her of judgment. But why? She’d never had trouble with stress or
pressure before. Her healthy coping skills always saw her through in the
end.

“Will came by to deal with my outlet issue.” She explained,
when the explanation was obvious, given the tools on the floor beside a hunk of
drywall.

“And I still need to deal with the ceiling tiles.” Will fixed
that clear gaze on her with all his attention, as if Nathanial wasn’t even
there. “I’ll be replacing them myself. What nights are you having classes next
week?”

The question was completely innocuous, entirely practical on
every level, but Kenzie wished Will had chosen any other time to ask. “Monday
through Wednesday. Nothing scheduled for Thursday and Friday.”

“Then I’ll see if I can get by to work on the empty classrooms
Monday through Wednesday and save the big classroom for Thursday and Friday,” he
said, moving toward the chair where his jacket hung. “Probably take me two
nights in there. Work for you?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling up at Nathanial, who arched an
eyebrow, assuring her he hadn’t missed how flustered she was and was curious
about why.

Will Russell.

The only answer to that question. Darn man.

Just the act of getting his jacket implied he’d taken it off
and that came attached with all sorts of implications that had nothing to do
with reality. But Kenzie didn’t seem to be dealing in reality right now. She was
dealing in adrenaline, a physical response to turmoil that was entirely
internal.

Will tossed his jacket over his shoulder, retrieved his tools,
then flashed that grin at her. “See you around.”

Then he inclined his head at Nathanial. “Wright.”

“Russell,” Nathanial replied.

“I’ll lock the door on my way out,” Will said, then he was
gone, leaving Kenzie staring after him, alone with her dear Nathanial and no
longer able to deny her stupid reactions were getting entirely out of hand.

CHAPTER SEVEN

W
ILL
LOCKED
THE
door to Kenzie’s place
and stepped into the night. A car drove past, tires chewing up the road as it
sped too fast down Main Street. The porch light cast a glow into the twilight,
onto the shingle that read Positive Partings.

A misnomer, he decided, because there was nothing positive
about the way he was parting right now.

Inhaling deeply, he allowed the brisk air to cool his agitation
from the encounter that had made him bristle. What was it about Nathanial Wright
that rubbed Will the wrong way?

He didn’t like the answer. He didn’t like it on so many levels
that he bristled some more.

Bypassing the door that led from the parking lot into Angel
House, Will went to his truck. He couldn’t bring himself to go in tonight. Just
the thought of work heightened his agitation.

Work didn’t stretch his brain anymore, hadn’t in a long time.
How could it? He’d been working construction since he’d been fourteen and old
enough to figure out his mom struggled to pay the bills. Autism,
politics...another story entirely. He had learning curves there that challenged
him, distracted him.

If he went inside that building to inspect ductwork and walk
the demolition that would start tomorrow, he’d be trapped inside his head to
obsess on the way he felt.

Suddenly Will wanted to be anywhere but here tonight.

Or in his own head.

Didn’t matter that he had five hundred things to do in the two
hours until he needed to pick up his son from Guadalupe’s.

Tossing the toolbox in the passenger side, Will circled the
truck and got behind the wheel. He’d been going nonstop since Kenzie had signed
on to Family Foundations. He’d barely seen his son, who was the entire point of
all this work.

Right now Will wanted to focus on walking through Sam’s bedtime
routine, checking off scheduled items one by one as he worked through the steps
that would get him into bed to read a story—his reward for completing the tasks
he found so distasteful.

Brushing his teeth had once topped that list, but climbing into
bed when he’d rather be swinging in the backyard or tear-assing around the house
or tackling his favorite game on the computer had been a close second.

Once these daily tasks had been a battlefield for power
struggles. Now they were performed perfunctorily, barely noticed by Sam, who had
grasped the pattern of events that needed to take place before bed. Daily tasks
that were also a tangible reminder of all the progress he’d made.

Sometimes Will really needed that reminder.

Like tonight.

Shoving the truck into gear, he drove out of the parking lot,
ignoring the sight of Kenzie’s midsize, midpriced sedan in a neutral color that
wouldn’t easily show dirt. Exactly the sort of car he would have guessed her to
drive. Practical. Economical. But Will couldn’t miss the pricey BMW parked
beside it. Subtly showy like the man who drove it.

And why did Will even care about Nathanial Wright?

Will didn’t. Not beyond the fact that Nathanial had intruded on
a close moment when sparks had been flying. Will and Kenzie had been so close he
could smell the scent of her hair, something citrusy and fresh.

Not beyond the fact that Kenzie had practically tripped over
herself reassuring her
not
-at-the-moment boyfriend
that nothing noteworthy had been going on.

Which meant she’d been as caught up in those flying sparks as
much as Will had been.

And Will didn’t care about Nathanial Wright beyond the fact
that the man had gone out of his way to get territorial, putting an arm around
Kenzie to warn Will his redheaded
not
-at-the-moment
date was off-limits.

Which meant Nathanial had noticed something was up with Kenzie,
too.

Will wasn’t sure what bugged him most—that sparks had been
flying and he’d only just noticed? He wasn’t sure why that should surprise him.
Not only was he overworked, overtired and overwhelmed most of the time, but he
hadn’t dated a woman since Melinda.

Once women had come easily to him, the same way everyone else
had. Of course, he didn’t seem to have a clue how to keep a woman around for the
long haul. Nowadays he was so distracted, his brain clogged with a thousand
things, that he’d been enjoying interactions with Kenzie and hadn’t even
noticed.

But when he thought back on the past weeks, he hadn’t missed an
opportunity to be around her, not from the first time he’d run into her in the
park. He’d seized every chance to make an impression, to talk to her, right down
to dropping everything after a meeting with the council to rush over here
tonight after he’d picked up her email.

No, he didn’t want those improperly covered wires to create a
problem, but he could have at least changed out of his suit.

Will had been going through the motions automatically and
hadn’t once considered what he was doing. Why?

That question wasn’t so hard to answer.

He didn’t need more complications in his life right now.

He’d sworn off women the day he’d been granted custody of Sam.
He had a son who needed him, and Will wasn’t stupid. How many divorces did he
need to go through before admitting he wasn’t doing something right?

Exactly two.

He had no clue if he wasn’t choosing his wives correctly or if
he was terminally flawed so no woman could stand to be around him for long. He
did know that he’d done things very differently with Melinda than he had with
his first wife, Trish, his high school girlfriend.

And wound up with the exact same outcome—asking a judge to
dissolve the marriage.

He didn’t have time to figure out what the problem was. He
didn’t have time to miss sex, either, so no problem there. Wheeling into
traffic, he cut off an SUV that was speeding.

Guilt tugged at him. Not for the lady he’d just forced to
brake. She’d needed to slow down. But he had a good two hours to work. He could
have at least inspected the ducts that had been installed today. Not that he
thought there would be a problem. He’d had a good crew of guys on the job.

Then again, he’d thought he could trust his electrician to
oversee the kid with the drywall, too.

Will waited until he met the pace of the traffic before
grabbing his cell phone. Speed dial. More waiting.

Then Bob’s gruff voice came on. “Normal folks are sitting down
to dinner after a hard day’s work.”

“
Not
talking normal here. We’re
talking you or me. And I know you’re not sitting down to dinner after a hard
day’s work.”

“What? You don’t think I did a hard day’s work?” A gruff
chuckle followed the question.

Bob Atteberry had been a part of Will’s life as far back as he
could remember. A friend of Will’s father, they’d been navy buddies first then
union buddies and poker buddies. Bob had been a frequent visitor at the house
when Will’s parents had still been married.

After Will’s father had decided a wife and three sons required
more effort than he was willing to expend, he’d gone AWOL from family life.
That’s where the friendship ended. Bob hadn’t approved of the way his buddy had
selfishly shirked his responsibilities, leaving his family behind to
struggle.

Bob simply never left their lives. He was good people, as Mom
was so fond of saying. He was always around for fishing or ball games or
slipping Mom some money so Santa could show up on Christmas or giving Will his
first job on a construction site.

In turn, Bob, who didn’t have a family of his own, was always
included in holiday feasts, where Mom would cook his favorite foods and pack up
enough leftovers to last a week.

“You work hard enough, Bob,” Will admitted. “But you’re not
sitting down to eat. You’re wolfing a sandwich over the sink.”

A disgruntled snort came over the line, but Bob didn’t bother
denying anything. Guilty as charged. “What do you want, city honcho?”

“You might want to mention to your nephew what can happen when
we hang drywall over electrical receptacles. Explain to him what a utility knife
can be used for.”

“He didn’t.” Not a question. “Idiot.”

“Funny, that’s what I said. Not to him, though. He’s a good kid
and eager to learn. I’m reserving opinion on his attention span for the time
being, if you don’t mind.”

Another grunt. “I won’t remind you then about some of the
boneheaded things you pulled.”

“Good, don’t. I do not need to be reminded.” Particularly
tonight when he was already feeling stupid enough about a very lovely redhead
who smelled faintly of tangerines.

“How’s the building going other than the drywall?”

“Not fast enough. Starting to dismantle that big hall
tomorrow.”

“Shit, that’s a job. Not putting my nephew on it, I hope.”

“To haul debris, maybe.”

There was a beat of silence. “Sounds like you’ve got an awful
lot of work ahead. You stand a chance in hell of meeting that deadline?”

Will watched the numbers on the pedestrian walkway count down.
5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
The traffic light turned green
and he hit the gas and was on his way again. “If everything goes smoothly and
nothing unexpected comes up.”

“Yeah, like that ever happens.”

“Don’t piss in my cereal, Bob.”

“Well, I hope you don’t die trying.”

Will could practically see the burly, grizzle-haired foreman
rolling his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere if I’ve got a choice in the
matter.”

“Listen, kid. You know I’m available when you need me. I can
get some of the other guys, too. I know they’ll help. You’ve passed around your
fair share of jobs through the years, and that counts for something. So just say
the word.”

The edginess that was making every nerve feel raw eased up a
bit. “Thanks, Bob.”

“All right, then. I’ll give my nephew a utility knife and tell
him what to do with it.”

“Sounds good. I’ve got plenty to keep him busy.”

“You call, Will. I’m serious.”

Will found himself smiling. “Count on it.”

“Good. Say hi to your mom.”

That was that. Not even a goodbye. But Bob didn’t have to say
goodbye because he made a habit of saying hello when he was needed.
Good people,
just like Mom always said.

Will was breathing easier when he finally pulled into
Guadalupe’s driveway. He wasn’t going to think about why sparks were flying
between him and Kenzie because he didn’t need any more damned distractions.
Obviously Kenzie wasn’t interested in distractions, either, because as Will
thought more about it, he had to wonder where all her careful distance fit in.
When had the sparks started melting through that invisible wall she’d had around
her? That wall had been firmly in place until he’d sent the flowers, at
least.

Flowers.
Where in hell had that
idea come from? Last time he’d sent a woman flowers he’d been asking her on a
date. But it had seemed like the perfect thing to do at the time.

Because he
wasn’t
thinking.

He pulled in behind the van Guadalupe and her daughter shared
to drive Rafael around. Today’s work gear and the notes from the council meeting
cluttered the backseat in the extended cab, so he made a place for Sam to sit
then went to get his son.

He knew the instant the door opened and he saw Gabriella’s
expression that something was up. “Today a good day?”

A lovely woman who wasn’t any taller than her mother even if
she was considerably smaller, Gabriella leveled big doe eyes his way. “Mom said
it wasn’t the worst.”

Translated: not the worst meant not the best. He braced
himself. “Anything happen?”

As if on cue, a familiar cry rose on crescendo from the rear of
the house.

Gabriella stepped aside and held the door open so Will could
enter. “Sam’s mom dropped in. She had a meeting nearby and brought him and
Rafael gifts.”

“Did she call first?”

Gabriella shook her head, so careful to keep opinions off her
face.

Will sighed, a dull throb starting in his temples. A nice
gesture well meant by a loving mother but just didn’t seem to get that she
couldn’t strong-arm normal interactions on her son. Will tried not to respond
negatively. Vocally, at least.

“I’m sorry, Gabriella.”

She gave a little smile, both sad and knowing. “Go on in, Will.
Mom could use backup. Jorge has Rafael.”

Backup.
Translated, it meant a
meltdown, and not a tantrum. And when one of the kids got worked up, the other
was usually right behind him. Will hoped Jorge had whisked Rafael away fast.

“Good. Thanks.”

The playroom had once been an office, but had been cleared out
and set up similarly to a classroom at Angel House. A place without
distractions, where Guadalupe could get the boys on task then easily clear the
deck when the time came to transition them to the next activity, whether it was
eating or playing or practicing their latest skills.

Will had barely cracked the playroom door when he saw Guadalupe
standing alone, whispering Sam’s name in a calm voice that belied the way she
wrung her hands anxiously.

That told Will everything he needed to know. She was well
trained to handle the behaviors that could crop up during the course of a day,
and the fact that she’d backed off meant she was keeping an eye on Sam to make
sure he didn’t get hurt, but was also allowing him to wind down on his own.

He slipped inside and shut the door quickly. He found Sam
red-cheeked and sweaty as he flapped his arms and prowled the perimeter of the
room at a run, around and around and around. His little jaw was rigid from the
way he ground his teeth and his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him,
unfocused. He didn’t seem to notice Will had even entered.

He let out a shriek that made Guadalupe startle and wring her
hands even more. But another revolution and he let out that same shriek when he
passed by the window again.