The Daddy Dance (10 page)

She had to clear her throat before she could ask, “What are you doing down here? I thought you went back to Richmond Wednesday night!”

Of course he’d gone back to Richmond. He’d gone back to his rented office, to two beige rooms that had somehow shrunk while he'd been in Eden Falls. He'd gone back to his studio apartment, to a bachelor pad that should have been more than adequate for his needs.

He hadn’t slept at all that night.

Every time he rolled over, he imagined having another conversation with Kat. Every time he punched his pillow into a more comfortable lump, he remembered another detail of the studio renovation. Every time he threw off his blankets, he thought about how he had let Kat down with the driving lesson, how she had panicked. And how she had warmed to him, afterward.

No.

It had taken him years to fight his way free, to sever enough family ties, enough social obligations, to give himself permission to live and work in Richmond. That whole mess with Marissa—the way he had pinned his hopes on her, on the life he thought they would have together… A white picket fence, two perfect kids and a dog. Until she decided that Hollywood was more glamorous, and she dropped him like a hot potato.

He might have taken too long to come to his senses, but he had finally carved out a life for himself. He could not—
would
not—let a woman drag him back to Eden Falls. Not now. Not when everything was about to break big for him.

Even a woman as intriguing as Kat.
Especially
a woman as intriguing as Kat. Part of her mystique was the fact that she didn’t belong in his hometown. After ten years of living on her own, she had become a New Yorker, through and through. She’d be leaving, as soon as her father had recovered.

He’d be an idiot to forfeit his own life plans—again—for a woman who wasn’t going to stick around.

But damn, Kat managed to distract him. Over and over again, even when she was a hundred miles away. And now? Standing beside her at the T-ball bleachers? It was all he could do not to cup a hand around her jean-clad hip. All he could do not to twist a strand of her mesmerizing hair around his finger and make a joke or two, draw out a smile on her lips. All he could do not to forget that a couple dozen kids were clamoring on the baseball diamond behind him, waiting for him to step up to the plate as their dedicated coach.

He cleared his throat and answered Kat’s question, even though it seemed like a century had passed since she spoke. “I
was
up in Richmond. But something came up, and my brother Noah had to bail on T-ball practice.”

“That seems to happen a lot,” Kat said, remembering that Rye had filled in for Noah on her first day back in Eden Falls. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

“Her name is Britney.”

Kat laughed. “You’re a good brother.”

“I’m keeping a log. So far he owes me 327 hours of favors. I get gas money and double credit for Saturdays.”

“Oh, what else would you be doing today?”

“I’d find something to occupy my time,” he said, giving her an appraising glance. There was no mistaking the rumble beneath his words, and her memory flashed back to the feel of him holding her, to the scratch of his jaw as he kissed her. She felt her cheeks grow warm.

“Mr. Harmon!” one of the kids called. “When do we start to play?”

Rye sighed in fake exasperation, careful to keep the team from hearing him. “Duty calls. And you’re going to have to help out, if we let Jenny play.”

She gestured to her boot. “I don’t think I’m really up to umpire work.”

“I’ve got that covered. Your place is on the bench, behind home plate. Behind me. You get to be head cheerleader.”

Kat caught a flicker of Rye’s eyebrows, a comic leer as if he were envisioning her in a short skirt, carrying pom-poms. The expression was wiped away before she could even be certain he was teasing her. Laughing, she headed over to her seat, grateful to give her foot a rest.

Enjoying the fresh air outside the studio and—truth be told—the view of Rye’s denim-clad backside behind home plate, Kat put her elbows on the bench above her. Stretching out like a long black cat in the heat of the spring sun, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She filled her lungs with the aroma of fresh-cut grass, focusing on what Rye was saying to his young players.

He helped one little girl choke up on the bat, instructing her on how to spread her legs for a more balanced stance. The child was not a natural athlete, but he talked her through two wildly missed swings. On the third, she toppled the ball from its plastic stand. “Run, Kaylee!” he shouted. “Run to first! You can make it!”

His enthusiasm for his charges was obvious. Each child improved under his tutelage. Everyone eventually connected the bat to the ball, and some even got a shot past the infield. Soon enough, the teams switched sides, and Kat watched as Jenny came to the plate.

“Okay, Jenny,” Rye said. “Oh, you’re left-handed? No, don’t be embarrassed, I’m left-handed, too. Here, move to the other side of the plate. Now, Jenny—”

“I’m not Jenny.”

Kat sat up, wondering what devilment her niece was working now.

“Really?” Rye said. “I was certain that your Aunt Kat told me your name was Jenny.”

“I hate that name.” Kat started to climb to her feet, ready to tell Jenny to adjust her tone or they’d be heading back home immediately. Before she could speak, though, the little girl whined pitiably, “There are two other Jennys in my class.”

Rye nodded. “I guess that would be pretty annoying. I never had anyone else with my name in school. Should I call you Jennifer instead?”

The little girl shook her head. “I’m only Jennifer when I’m in trouble.”

Kat started to laugh—her niece was only telling the truth. Rye, though, screwed up his face into a pensive frown. “What should we do, then? How about another nickname?”

“Like what?”

“Jen?”

“There’s a Jen at Sunday School.”

“Then how about Niffer?”

“Niffer?” She repeated the name like she’d never heard the last two syllables of her own name.

“Do you know anyone else called Niffer?” The child shook her head. “Then what do you say? Should we try it?” Rye was granted a grudging nod. “Okay, then, Niffer. Step up to the plate. Nope, the other side, for lefties. Now focus on the ball. Bring the bat back. And
swing
!”

The bat cracked against the ball, clearly the best shot of the afternoon. The tiny center fielder scrambled to catch the soaring ball, fighting the sunshine in his eyes. Rye shouted, “Go Niffer! Run around the bases!”

Fulfilling her role as head cheerleader, Kat was shouting by the time her niece completed her home run. The kids exploded with excitement, too, both the batting and the fielding teams chanting, “Nif-fer! Nif-fer!”

Obviously recognizing a climactic ending for the game when he saw one, Rye declared the practice over five minutes early, sending the kids off with their appreciative parents. Kat sat up straighter on the bench, watching Rye talk to the other adults. Several ribbed him about filling in for Noah, one telling him that he was taking his best man’s duties too far. So, things must be really serious between Noah and…what was her name? Britney.

Rye was absolutely at home with every person he talked to. He shook hands with all the men; he accepted kisses on the cheek from most of the women. Kat supposed that he’d known these people all his life—he had gone to school with them, grown up with them.

She’d gone to school with them, too. Well, four years behind. She should have been every bit as comfortable in Eden Falls as Rye was. After all, how many places were left on earth where someone could leave her front door unlocked to go play T-ball in the park? How many places would band together to fill Susan and Mike’s freezer with countless nourishing, home-cooked meals?

Kat was beginning to understand what had kept her parents here all these years. She even caught herself smiling as Rye crossed the diamond, Jenny at his heels.

“Aunt Kat!”

“You looked great out there, Jenny.”

“I’m Niffer, now!”

“Niffer,” Kat agreed, sternly reminding herself to use the new nickname.

“Can I go climb on the castle?”

“
May
I?” Kat reminded. Grammar rules were just as important as the other rules that Niffer needed to maintain while they lived together.

“
May
I go climb on the castle?”

“Go ahead,” Kat said. “But we need to go back to Gram and Pop-pop’s house in ten minutes.”

Niffer was halfway to the jungle gym before all of the words were out of Kat’s mouth. Rye settled on the bench beside her, grunting with mock exhaustion. “They’ll wear a man out.”

“You’re great with them,” Kat said. “I never know how to talk to kids.”

“Most people think about it too much. It’s better to just say what you’re thinking.”

“Easy for you! I’ve been living with…Niffer for a week and a half, and that’s the first I heard that she didn’t like her name. It’s like you two share some special bond.”

Special bond. Rye tensed at the words and the responsibility that they conjured up. Years ago, he’d worried about just such a “special bond,” worried that the then-unborn Niffer was his daughter. Rachel had set him straight in no uncertain terms. If any guy shared a “special bond” with Niffer, with Rachel, it was Josh Barton.

And just as well. Rye could never have taken off for Richmond if he had a daughter here in Eden Falls. The games that Marissa had played, tying him to the town, would have been nothing compared to the bonds of fatherhood.

“She’s a good kid,” he finally said.

His lingering tension was telling him something, though. His lingering tension, and a couple of sleepless nights. Even if he had no hope for anything long-term with Kat, it was time to man up. Past time, actually. He flashed on the feel of her body pressed close to his in Rachel’s kitchen, and he cleared his throat before saying gruffly, “I should tell you. Your sister and I went out a couple of times. It was a long time ago. Five, six years. We were only together for a few weeks.”

Kat’s face shuttered closed. “Rachel never mentioned anything. We, um, we haven’t been close for a very long time.”

Rye wanted to kick himself for making Kat pull away like that, for bringing out that guarded look in her eyes. Over the past few days, he’d relived that kitchen kiss so many times. He’d remembered the swift surge of passion that had boiled his blood as Kat settled her body against him, as her lips parted beneath his. Back in Richmond, he’d picked up the phone a half-dozen times, just wanting to hear her voice. Hell, he’d even grabbed his keys once, thinking about making the drive south in record time.

And he had to admit that he’d wondered—more than once—if she would bring that same sudden passion to his bed. He’d imagined her shifting above him, concentrating on their bodies joined together, fulfilling at last the promise that he’d made with a blushing kiss ten years before.

He was being an idiot, of course. He wasn’t going to see Kat in his bed. He was going to honor her clearly stated desire, keep his distance, and finish up his work at the studio. Get the hell out of Eden Falls, and back to Richmond, where he belonged. That was the professional thing to do. The gentlemanly thing to do.

Damn. Sometimes, he hated being the good guy.

Still, his family had dragged him down here for the weekend, and he’d be an idiot not to take advantage of the fact that Kat was sitting right beside him. He just had to reassure her. “It was nothing serious, Kat. Rachel and me.”

“With Rachel, it never is.”

“She was really interested in another guy, a fraternity brother of mine. After about a month, we both realized the truth, and that was it.”

“Of course.”

Kat heard the stiffness in her tone. She knew that she had pulled away from Rye as soon as he mentioned Rachel. She was holding her back straight, as if she were about to spin away in a flawless pirouette.

She hated talking about her sister. She hated going over the poor choices Rachel had made, the easy ways out that she’d taken, over and over and over again. Just thinking about the old battles made Kat freeze up, clutching at her old formula—goals, strategies, rules. That’s what she needed, here in Eden Falls. That’s what she needed throughout her life.

But what had Susan told her, just that morning?
Go stomping in mud puddles for a change. Somersault down a hill.

Impossible. Mud and hills were both in short supply, here in the public park. But Kat
could
let herself go. Just a bit.

“I’m sorry,” she said, forcing herself to relax. “I really do appreciate your telling me about Rachel.”

He continued to look grave, though. Her natural reaction had driven a wedge between them. But she could change that—even with stomping and somersaults off the menu for the day. Consciously setting aside her anger with Rachel, Kat dug her elbow into Rye’s side. “Come on! I’d race you to the far end of the park, but I’m pretty sure you’d win.”

He looked at her walking boot. “Yeah. I wouldn’t want to take unfair advantage. What do you think, though? Could you manage the swings?”