Page 43 of Summer Weddings

Mitch figured he’d read the book about a thousand times.

Chrissie could recite parts of it from memory, and Mitch knew he could repeat whole sections of it himself without bothering to turn the pages.

Although his daughter was quite capable of reading on her own, there were certain stories she insisted he read to her.

He picked up the book and flipped it open. He made it through the first page by merely glancing at it now and then.

“Daddy.”

“Yes, pumpkin?”

“Are we going to Susan’s for Thanksgiving?”

Mitch closed the book. “Sawyer asked this afternoon if we’d join them for dinner.

” Naturally Susan would’ve said something to Chrissie.

Sawyer had also let it drop that Bethany would be there, then waited for his reaction.

So Mitch had smiled politely and said he looked forward to seeing her again. Actually it was true.

“Did you tell Sawyer we’d come?”

Mitch nodded.

Chrissie’s eyes lit up, as if this confirmation had given her a reason to live. “I hope I won’t be sick then.” She made a show of swallowing.

“You won’t be.”

Mitch didn’t know what was wrong with his daughter, but he had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t nearly as serious as she’d like him to believe. He sat with her for a few more minutes, then moved into the kitchen to check on dinner.

“Daddy!”

He made his way back down the hallway and stuck his head in her bedroom door. “Now what?”

“I want Ms. Ross.”

Mitch’s heart rate accelerated. “Why?”

Chrissie nodded. “I just want to talk to her, all right?”

Mitch hesitated. Of all the things he’d expected Chrissie to ask of him, Bethany wasn’t it. A game of checkers. A glass of juice. Anything but her teacher.

“Please, oh, please, Daddy. Ms. Ross will make me feel so much better.”

If Mitch was looking for an excuse to call Bethany, then his daughter had just offered it to him.

He and Bethany hadn’t seen much of each other in the past few weeks, but she seemed to be the one avoiding him.

Embarrassed by what had happened in his office during Catherine Fletcher’s service, Mitch had decided to leave her alone. He’d done enough damage.

But it didn’t change the way he felt about her. They couldn’t be in the same vicinity without his heartbeat accelerating frantically. It had been years since he’d felt this vulnerable with a woman, and it made him nervous.

Since their meeting at Ben’s place, they’d greeted each other cordially—nothing personal. Just noncommittal chitchat, of the kind he might have exchanged with a near stranger.

None of that, however, was enough for Mitch to forget the feel of Bethany in his arms, Bethany’s lips on his, warm and welcoming. And so blessedly giving that he wanted to kick himself every time he thought about the way he’d treated her.

“Daddy.” Chrissie gave him a long look. “Will you call Ms. Ross?”

He nodded helplessly. Walking into the kitchen, he reached for the phone. Chrissie couldn’t possibly realize what she’d asked of him. Even while that thought formed in his mind, he admitted he was grateful for the excuse to call Bethany.

He punched out the phone number and waited. Bethany answered on the second ring.

“Hello.”

Now that he heard her voice, he felt a moment’s panic. What could he say? He didn’t want to exaggerate and make it sound as if Chrissie was seriously ill, nor did he wish to make light of her request.

“It’s Mitch.”

No response.

“I’m sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble.” She sounded friendly, but not overly so.

“Chrissie seems to have come down with the flu.” Then, on a stroke of genius, he invented the reason for his call. “Did she mention not feeling well at school today?”

“No, she didn’t say a word.” Concern was more evident in her voice than irritation.

“It’s probably nothing more than a twenty-four-hour virus,” he said.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

He’d been born under a lucky star, Mitch decided. Without his having to say a word, she’d volunteered.

“As a matter of fact, Chrissie’s feeling pretty bad at the moment and she’s asking for you. I don’t want you to go out of your way—”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“No.” He wouldn’t hear of her walking that far in weather this cold. “I’ll come for you on the snowmobile.”

She hesitated. “Fine. I’ll watch for you.”

Mitch went back into Chrissie’s bedroom. “I talked to Ms. Ross.”

“And?” Chrissie nearly fell out of the bed she was so eager to hear the outcome of the conversation.

“She’ll come, but I didn’t want her walking over here in the cold. I’m going to pick her up on the snowmobile. You’ll be all right alone for five minutes, won’t you?”

Chrissie’s eyes filled with outrage. “I’m not a little kid anymore!”

“I’m glad to know that.” If he’d actually been upset about asking Bethany to visit, he might have pointed out that someone who wasn’t a little kid anymore wouldn’t ask for her teacher.

Mitch called out to Chrissie that he was leaving.

He put on his insulated, waterproof jacket and wound a thick scarf around his neck, covering his mouth, before he stepped outside.

The snowmobile was the most frequently used means of transportation in the winter months, and he kept his well-maintained.

The minute he pulled up outside Bethany’s small house, her door opened and she appeared.

She climbed onto the back of the snowmobile and positioned herself a discreet distance behind him. Nevertheless, having her this close produced a fiery warmth he couldn’t escape—didn’t want to escape.

She didn’t say anything until they’d reached his house. He parked the snowmobile inside the garage and plugged in the heater to protect the engine.

Once in the house they removed their winter gear. Bethany was wearing leggings and an oversize San Francisco Police Department sweatshirt; her feet were covered in heavy red woollen socks. He stared at her, taking in every detail.

Mitch found he couldn’t speak. It was the first time they’d been alone together since the scene in his office. This sudden intimacy caught him off guard, and he wasn’t sure how to react.

Part of him yearned to take her in his arms and kiss her again. Only this time he’d be tender, drawing out the kiss with—

“Where’s Chrissie?” Bethany asked, mercifully breaking into his thoughts.

“Chrissie… She’s in her bedroom.”

The oven timer went off, and grateful for the excuse to clear his head, Mitch walked into the kitchen. He opened the oven and pulled out the ground-turkey casserole to cool on top of the stove.

He entered his daughter’s room and discovered Bethany sitting on the bed, with Chrissie cuddled close. The child’s head rested against Bethany’s shoulder as she read from the story he’d begun himself. When Chrissie glanced up to find Mitch watching, her eyes shone with happiness.

“Hi, Dad,” she said, craning her neck to look up at Bethany. “Dad usually reads me this story, but you do it better because you love it, too. I don’t think Dad likes romance stories.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Mitch announced. “Are you sure you won’t try to eat something, pumpkin?”

Chrissie’s frown said that was a terribly difficult decision. “Maybe I could eat just a little, but only if Ms. Ross will stay and have dinner with us.”

Before Bethany could offer a perfunctory excuse, Mitch said, “There’s plenty, and we’d both enjoy having you.” He wanted to be certain she understood that he wouldn’t object to her company; if anything, he’d be glad of it.

He saw her gaze travel from him to Chrissie and then back. He leaned against the doorway, hands deep in his pockets, trying to give the impression that it made no difference to him if she joined them or not. But it did. He wanted her to stay.

“I… It’s thoughtful of you to ask. I, uh, haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh, goodie.” Chrissie jumped up and clapped her hands, bouncing with glee. Then, as if she’d just remembered how ill she was supposed to be, she sagged her shoulders and all but crumpled onto the bed.

In an effort to hide his smile, Mitch returned to the kitchen and quickly set the table. By the time Chrissie and Bethany joined him, he’d brought the casserole to the table, as well as a loaf of bread, butter and some straight-from-the-can bean salad.

Dinner was…an odd affair. Exciting. Fun.

And a little sad. It was as if he and Bethany were attempting to find new ground with each other.

Only they both seemed to fear that this ground would be full of crevices and strewn with obstacles.

He’d take one step forward, then freeze, afraid he’d said something that might offend her.

He noticed that Bethany didn’t find this new situation any easier than he did. She’d start to laugh, then her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, would meet his and the laugh would falter.

Following their meal, Chrissie wanted her to finish the story. Since Mitch was well aware of how the story ended, he lingered in the kitchen over a cup of coffee.

He’d just begun washing the dishes when Bethany reappeared.

“Chrissie’s decided she needs her beauty sleep,” she told him, standing at the far side of the room.

Mitch didn’t blame her for maintaining the distance between them.

Every time she’d attempted to get close, he’d shoved her away.

Every time she’d opened her heart to him, he’d shunned her.

Yet when he’d desperately needed her, she’d been there.

And although she’d accused him of settling for any woman who happened to fall into his arms, she was the only one who could fill the need in him.

“I imagine you want to get back home,” he said, experiencing a curious sadness. He dumped what remained of his coffee into the sink. The way her eyes flickered told him she might have enjoyed a cup had he offered one.

“Stay,” he said suddenly. “Just for a few minutes.”

The invitation seemed to hang in the air. It took her a long time to decide; when he was about to despair, she gave him a small smile, then nodded.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”