Page 38 of First Love

“Hey, mister, is that your boat?” John’s eyes were round with envy as he stared at the dock where a speedboat—shiny silver with black trim—was rocking on the waves.

“It is now.”

“Oh, wow!”

“You like it?”

John was practically drooling. “What’s not to like? It’s the coolest.”

“Is this your son?” Hayden asked.

Was it her imagination or was there a trace of regret in his question? Reluctantly, she made introductions. “Hayden Monroe, my oldest son, John,” Nadine introduced, and spying Bobby peeking through the window, waved him outside. Bobby came cautiously through the door. “And this is my baby—”

“Don’t call me that,” Bobby warned.

“Excuse me.” Nadine smiled and rumpled his red-blond hair. “This is my second son. Bobby. Or are you Robert today?” she asked, teasing him.

“Hello, Bobby. John.” Hayden shook hands with each of the boys, and Nadine wondered if the shadow that stole across his summer-blue eyes was a tinge of remorse.

“Are you the guy who owns the sawmill?” John asked, and Nadine’s polite smile froze on her face.

“For now.”

“The whole mill?” Bobby asked, obviously impressed.

Before Hayden could reply, John said, “My dad says that the owner of the place is a goddamned mean son of a—”

“John!” Nadine cried.

“Your dad is right,” Hayden replied with a glint in his eye.

John’s forehead creased into a frown.

“Hayden just inherited the mill from his father,” Nadine guessed, glancing at Hayden for reassurance. “He hasn’t owned it all that long. Daddy wasn’t talking about him.”

“You don’t like your dad?” Bobby wanted to know, and Nadine sent up a silent prayer. She didn’t want to get involved with Hayden, didn’t want her children feeling comfortable with him, didn’t want to know anything about his life.

“My dad’s gone,” Hayden said flatly. Then, as if seeing that the boy was still confused, he added, “We didn’t get along all that well. Never saw eye to eye.”

“My dad’s the greatest!” John said proudly as he threw his mother a defiant look.

Hayden’s lips turned down a fraction. “That’s how it should be.”

Satisfied that he’d made his point, John waved to his brother. “C’mon, Bobby. Let’s check out the boat!” John was already running down to the dock.

“Be careful. Don’t touch any—”

Hayden’s hand clamped over her shoulder and she gasped. “They’ll be fine,” he said. “No need to overmother them.”

“But—”

“I’ll wager they know how to handle a boat and what to steer clear of.”

“You don’t even know my boys,” she shot back indignantly.

“Maybe not. But I do know about mothers who are overprotective.”

His hand was still resting upon her shoulder, but she shrugged the warm palm away from her. “It’s none of your business how I raise my children, Hayden,” she said crossly.