The Back-Up Plan (8 page)

Read The Back-Up Plan Online

Authors: Debra Webb

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #opposites attract, #Humor, #single mom, #Family Life, #Starting Over, #Romance, #Cougar, #plan b

BOOK: The Back-Up Plan
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All things considered, despite Melissa’s teacher and the ex-butcher shop sitting a few yards from the train tracks, it was working out reasonably well so far.

Donna padded to the front hall where several gallons of paint waited for her in a neat stack near the staircase. She took the step ladder she’d borrowed from Sam and set it up at the far end of the kitchen. Melissa’s latest request nagged at her again.
Since we have a real house with a real yard, can we get a puppy now?

Donna cringed. It wasn’t that she didn’t like dogs, she was just afraid of them. Since she was seven and had gotten bitten by a neighbor’s mutt, Donna had been scared to death of dogs. Wouldn’t a goldfish or a Parakeet suffice?

After gathering the paint roller, pan and gallon of paint marked
Lemonade
, she set the can on the kitchen counter and opened it. As she stirred the creamy yellow mix, the sunny walls of Hank Bradley’s classroom came to mind. Much to her frustration, that wasn’t the only thing about Hank Bradley that intruded on her thoughts. She groaned as his kiss replayed again and again with vivid clarity. She just couldn’t seem to bury the incident.

After two sleepless nights of analyzing the reckless moment, Donna felt confident that her problem was sex deprivation. As her sister said, no one could ignore their needs forever and Donna had tried to do just that. The way the man had kissed her suggested he was pretty needy as well. Fat chance he’d been celibate the last six-plus years as she had. According to Patty, women flocked to him like he was the only single guy in the county.

Somehow Donna had to get past this fixation—and that’s all it could possibly be. Nothing more. Just everyday male-female attraction. It happened all the time, didn’t it? Whatever it was, she wasn’t about to wind up a member of the Hank Bradley conquest club.

Been there, done that.

Brick Wallace had swept Donna off her feet. She had been in a vulnerable place. Med school had been draining, physically and mentally. It was her last year and she’d just begun to feel some of the tremendous weight lifting. She’d been so focused on being a student for so long, she’d needed something to make her feel like a woman again. Brick, all flash and charm, had mesmerized her with his golden-boy good looks.

Like Hank, Brick had been a professional sports figure. A fullback for the Pittsburgh Steelers, but he never attained national celebrity status. Still, being a celebrity by virtue of his teammates had been bad enough. The macho-jock attitude coupled with his old-money background made him unbearably arrogant. He’d broken off the engagement and walked away, leaving her six months pregnant.

Brick had only seen Melissa the one time. Though she had inherited his blonde hair and blue eyes, Brick wouldn’t know her today if he passed her on the street. Despite the irrefutable fact that he was lower than pond scum, the thought that he didn’t care enough about his own child to get to know her made Donna sad. The idea of how naive she had been to have ever believed in him made her sick to her stomach. It would never happen again. She would spend the rest of her life alone before she would take that chance a second time.

Donna stopped stirring, recognized the unexpected doubt sucking the determination from her decree. Try as she might to block them, memories of that kiss had her wishing she dared explore the sizzling chemistry between her and Bradley. She couldn’t ignore the idea that he represented a serious threat to her decision to avoid men like him. She chewed her lip. There was just something about him.

No. No, no, no. The best thing she could do was stay away from the man.

But how? If only she could skip Melissa to the first grade, her dilemma would be solved. If only he hadn’t touched her...or kissed her. Maybe then they could have a normal parent-teacher relationship.

But he had kissed her.

And, worst of all, she had kissed him back.

Banishing the mortifying thoughts to some deep hole reserved for things she didn’t want to touch or feel, she unlocked and raised the windows. She tied her shirttail up out of her way and climbed onto the ladder to edge the walls. After only a few brush strokes she could see that the yellow promised to be a tremendous improvement over the pink.

The buzzing of the ancient doorbell made her jump. Her paintbrush dropped to the floor in a splat of yellow. “Shoot.”

Patty was early. Shaking her head, Donna climbed down and snatched up the brush. She swiped up the mess on the floor with a paper towel. The doorbell sounded again. Had she locked the door? She didn’t remember locking it. She carefully placed the brush across the top of the paint can and wiped her hands on the rag hanging from the waistband of her tattered shorts as she headed for the door.

The bell sounded a third time as she pulled open the unlocked door. “Why didn’t you just—” The rest of what she intended to say died on her tongue at the sight of Hank Bradley on her porch.

“Good morning.” His lips curved into that disarming smile that knocked the fight right out of her. “You look comfortable this morning.” He lounged against the door-frame and took a tour of her body, starting with her pony-tailed head all the way down to her pink-lacquered toenails.

Her hand went to her exposed midriff as his eyes made the return trip. Heat sizzled along her skin as if he’d traced that same path with his hands. She might look comfortable, but she felt half naked just now. Girding herself for the charge of emotions she knew would come, she met his gaze. “I didn’t know teachers made house calls.”

His smile widened into an irresistible grin. “I thought you might invite me in for coffee. I brought pastries.” He held up a bag from the bakery in the grocery store for Donna’s inspection. “I kind of hoped something sweet would put me back on your good side.”

A lock of his coal black hair fell across his forehead. Donna suppressed the urge to reach up and sweep it back. The memory of his firm, sensuous lips pressed against hers leaped to mind. She kicked the thoughts out of her head. “Assuming that you’ve ever been on my good side is rather presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“You have a point there, Doc.” He straightened and pulled a serious face. “I really do need to talk to you, though. If you can spare a few minutes.”

Donna chose her words carefully. “Mr. Bradley, after what happened Thursday I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.” He dropped his dark head and stared at the floor for a long moment. “I’d like to clear the air between us.”

Donna felt her resolve softening. She had to get rid of Hank Bradley before she melted into a puddle right before his eyes. “Personally, I’d prefer never to think about the incident again, much less discuss it. Like it or not, you are Melissa’s teacher which pretty much rules out the possibility of my never having to interact with you again, but I don’t have to outside the school setting.” The lack of conviction in her voice made her want to scream, but there it was. Her brain told her he was trouble but the rest of her wasn’t cooperating.

He folded and unfolded the top of the bakery bag several times, the crinkling sound made Donna want to snatch it from his hands and push him out the door. For some crazy reason her defenses were weak around this guy! She couldn’t trust herself, much less him.

Finally, he let out a big breath and raised his gaze back to hers. “I know nothing I can say will earn me a do over, but I want you to know that I truly am sorry.”

“Fine. You’ve apologized.” Donna gave him a tight smile and prepared to close the door before she did something unwise like invite him in. “Good day, Mr. Bradley.”

“I really could use a cup of coffee.” He eased one broad shoulder into the path of the closing door.

“Mr. Bradley—”

“Mommy! Mommy!” Melissa bounded down the stairs. “Is Aunt Patty here?”

“No, sweetie, it’s—” Melissa crashed into Donna’s legs. Before she could steady herself, her child flung herself at Hank.

“Mr. Hank!”

Hank squatted to accept Melissa’s enthusiastic hug. “Hey, squirt.”

Donna looked away. She didn’t want to see—or feel—any of this.

“Come see my new room, Mr. Hank!” Melissa took his big hand and tugged.

Hank looked to Donna for approval. Great. Now she had to be the bad guy.

“Sweetie, I’m sure Mr. Bradley doesn’t have time—”

“Oh please! Oh please!” Melissa begged, pulling on his hand.

He stood, his eyes never leaving Donna’s. She felt him trying to read her reaction. Damn, him! Why didn’t he make up some excuse? Like he had to leave, preferably.

“What’ll it be, Doc?” he asked for her ears only. Melissa continued to tug and grunt with all her might. He kept a straight face, though his lips twitched with the slightest hint of a smile.

The hopeful glitter in his eyes scattered the last of Donna’s fortitude, making it impossible to say no. She had to be the biggest fool that ever walked. “Come in, Mr. Bradley.”

Already regretting her weakness, she stepped back to allow him entrance. Only for Melissa, she reminded herself. Her daughter seemed genuinely taken with the man. And why wouldn’t she be? He exuded charm. A five-year-old wouldn’t yet recognize male arrogance personified when it walked through her door.

“Thanks.” He flashed Donna a sexy smile and thrust the bag at her before allowing Melissa to pull him toward the stairs.

She closed the door and sagged against it. Melissa’s excited chatter and Hank’s attentive responses floated down to Donna as the two disappeared onto the second floor. She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Why did this man keep bulldozing his way into her life? Donna opened her eyes and looked around at her new home’s state of disorder.

“What a mess.”

Furniture sat about in no particular arrangement. Moving boxes were stacked here and there. She scolded herself for caring one way or the other what
he
thought.

The doorbell sounded again. Donna bolted from the door. Geez! A person could get a heart attack leaning against doors around here. She blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes.
Now what?

She yanked the door open, half expecting someone from one of the local churches or a door-to-door salesman. Oh, God, it was worse. Patty—more than twenty minutes early. And somewhere upstairs Hank Bradley frolicked with Melissa. Donna hadn’t missed her sister’s less than subtle matchmaking hints. This would only add fuel to the fire.

“Are you going to invite me in or do you plan to just keep standing there with your mouth hanging open?” Patty asked, instantly attuned to her sister’s discord. Her gaze darted past Donna and around the downstairs hall.

“Sorry...I was painting in the kitchen,” Donna said, patting herself on the back for the quick save.

Patty slipped past her. “Where’s Melissa?”

The moment of truth. “Well, I—”

“Aunt Patty, look who came to see my new room!”

Donna stared in disbelief at her daughter descending the stairs atop Hank Bradley’s shoulders, a fistful of his thick hair in each hand. Holding on to the door helped Donna to maintain an upright position, otherwise she would probably have been flat on the floor about now.

“Mr. Bradley.” A wide smile splitting her face, Patty met Hank at the bottom of the stairs and extracted Melissa from his broad shoulders. “Fancy meeting you here.” She looked from Hank to Donna and beamed with pure satisfaction. “I hear we won our first game last night.”

“That’s a fact,” he said proudly as he combed his fingers through his mussed hair. “I came by to discuss Chip Stevens with Dr. Jacobs.” His eyes darted briefly to Donna. “Melissa gave me the grand tour of her new room.” His lips flowed into a charming smile as naturally as breathing.

“Chip Stevens,” Donna mumbled. He hadn’t said anything about him.

Patty shot her a questioning glance. “He’s okay, isn’t he?” she asked, her suspicious expression momentarily shifting to concern.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hank answered. “His family doctor saw him yesterday and said pretty much the same thing Dr. Jacobs did.” He slanted Donna another quick look.

“Good.” Patty reached for Melissa’s hand. “Are you ready, young lady?” Melissa nodded, already urging Patty toward the door. “My girls are in the car, so we’d better get moving.”

“Have a good time,” Donna managed, still clutching the door for support. She dropped a quick peck on the top of Melissa’s sweet head as she passed.

Good-byes exchanged, Patty’s questioning gaze lingered on Donna a second or two longer before she was pulled out the door by Melissa.

Donna shut the door behind them and steeled herself as she faced her daughter’s teacher. “What’s this about Chip Stevens?”

“I thought we were having coffee.”

Donna glanced at the white bag she clutched. She’d completely forgotten about that. Coffee. Sure, why not? She had always been a glutton for punishment. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse anyway. “Have a seat, Mr. Bradley.” Donna thrust the bag at him and nodded toward the living room. “Do you take cream or sugar?”

“Black works for me.”

While Melissa’s teacher examined the collage of family pictures on the hall table, Donna made a beeline for the kitchen. She shook her head as she considered that she had definitely lost any good sense she ever commanded. No matter how Melissa begged, she shouldn’t have let him in. Chip Stevens was fine; Hank Bradley had said so himself. They had nothing else to discuss.

She grabbed another cup and plopped it on the counter, the clatter making her jump. Why couldn’t she and Bradley simply have a normal parent-teacher relationship? Why oh why did he have to turn her inside out? Donna pressed her palms against the cool counter. She willed her heart rate to slow. Okay, girl, take a deep breath. You can do this. She reached for the coffeepot, her hand steadier now, and poured his cup full.

“Yellow, huh?”

She almost dropped the pot when she whirled around to find him standing in the middle of her kitchen. He made a strange face—not quite a frown, but something on that order—as he inspected the can of yellow paint.

“Great color.” His odd expression mellowed as the corners of his mouth kicked upwards once more.

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