The Aristocrat and the Single Mom by Michelle Douglas Page B

of gear or something. Slam his thumb in the car door.
    No way.
    He kept his mouth firmly shut and his feet firmly planted. He would not offer to show him the car. Kate sent him a puzzled glance. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. ‘Didn’t you say something about a beer in your back garden?’
    Her frown cleared. With a low laugh, she pointed. ‘Beers are in the fridge. Help yourself. I’m going to be tied up in here for another half an hour. I’ll join you when I’m finished.’
    ‘I’ll wait.’ Sitting out there on his own…or, worse still, with the child…held little appeal.
    The smile she sent him seared him from the toes up and made him glad he’d offered to wait. She had a luscious mouth, lips full and soft. When he’d kissed her she’d tasted of sunshine and lemonade—the homemade variety, not the fizzy stuff.
    He wanted to kiss her again.
    And again. And again.
    He wanted to kiss her and not stop.
    ‘Simon!’
    He came back to earth with a crash when he realised those full lips were directing words at him. ‘Sorry?’
    She swallowed. He took in the high colour on her cheekbones and couldn’t hold back a grin. He remembered the wayshe’d wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He wanted to grab her around the waist and whirl her around in a victory dance of their own. He didn’t, but his grin widened. ‘I was miles away.’
    Her mock glare told him she knew exactly where he’d been. Then she glanced at Jesse. Simon shuffled from one foot to the other and bit his tongue to stop him from asking when Jesse went to bed.
    ‘I was saying,’ she started with exaggerated care, ‘that you play cricket…’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘And Jesse plays cricket…’
    ‘Uh-huh.’
    ‘Then maybe the two of you would like to go down to the beach and have a quick game while I finish tossing the salad and get the casserole on?’
    The blood drained from his face. Ice pierced his veins. He took a step back. ‘No!’
    If something happened to Jesse whilst he was in Simon’s care, Simon would never forgive himself.
    Kate would never forgive him.
    Her head shot up. She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe she’d heard him properly, then she very slowly set the knife down on the chopping board. With sickening clarity, he recognised each and every emotion that passed through her eyes—concern, shock, consternation, disappointment and finally…anger.
    Then her eyes became as opaque as frosted glass and she turned away from him.
    ‘Oops, that’s right, chook. You won’t have time for a game of cricket this afternoon. Not if you and Nick want to camp out in the tent tonight.’
    Jesse’s face lit up. He flung his arms about her waist. ‘Can we?’
    Kate hugged him close. ‘Sure you can.’
    Bitterness filled Simon’s mouth. Kate and Jesse formed a closed circle, effectively shutting him out. Even though heknew he deserved it, and even though he knew it was for the best, the bite of their rejection seared through him like poison.
     
    Kate hugged Jesse close, giving him the reassurance he needed after Simon’s abrupt rebuff. Then she said, ‘Why don’t you run over and make sure it’s okay with Nick’s mum?’
    Jesse shot out the back door, everything right with his world again, and Kate spun to Simon. ‘What on earth was that about?’ she demanded, her hands going to her hips.
    She wanted to hit him. She wanted to kiss him too, but she tried to ignore that bit. She tried to focus on her sense of injury. How could he have been so darn brutal? Jesse was a great kid. He hadn’t deserved that.
    Simon hunched up his shoulders and shrugged. She tried not to notice how long and lean his legs looked in sand-coloured chinos, tried to ignore the broad strokes of his chest and shoulders in their forest-green polo shirt.
    Okay, well, maybe it was impossible to ignore them, but they didn’t excuse his behaviour.
    ‘Well?’ she demanded.
    He shrugged again. ‘Look, Kate, I’m just