Fairy-Tale Family. Pat Montana
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until she was almost lost in the bulkiness of her brown sweater. A businesslike frown darkened her eyes.
“You’re right. I’ll move Seri and Rafe into King’s room. I should be near to help Gabe and Michael with him at night. I’ll stay where I am.”
“Where you are?”
“With the mermaids.”
For an instant, he thought she was teasing. He watched with growing regret as the possibility faded and understanding crept into her face.
“You thought—?” Her eyes narrowed, chilling again to Arctic frost. “You thought I slept with... and yet you tried to—? I sleep with my daughter, Mr. Kole, not with your father.”
Her shoes snapped like gunshots on the wooden floor. “Your father offered me a job and a place for my kids when I was pretty desperate.” She descended on him from across the room. “I suspect it was because he was lonely. Because he doesn’t have much family of his own.”
Mitch actually felt himself flinch. What was going on here? His father had always cared more about his music than anything else. More than his family.
Ellie stopped right under his nose and glared up at him. “When you see King, why don’t you tell him what you thought about me. Only a man like you would think such a thing. I’m sure he could use a good laugh.” She swept by him, disappearing through the door.
A man like him? Mitch knew what he was. Too much like his father for anyone’s damn good. But at least he would never lose a wife the way his father had. He would never lose a kid. An unmarried man made no promises to break.
So why did Ellie’s words sting?
“You sleep with your daughter?” he mumbled after her, unable to muster a heartfelt shout. Last night, in the dark, he’d climbed into bed with Seri’s mermaids—naked. Where had Ellie been then?
Worse, what if she had been there?
And why was she sharing a bed with a restless little four-year-old instead of with his father?
More to the point, no matter where Ellie slept, why the hell did he care?
Chapter Two
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Ellie gasped at the sound of Mitch’s sharp voice. She grabbed the TV tighter, but her startled jerk pulled the big black monster right off the edge of the scarred television stand.
Omigod.
“Hang on, Gabe. Michael, Rafe, come here. Hurry!”
The two boys jumped up from the living-room floor, followed by the little black dog. Bubba Sue pranced around wagging her tail.
“Come on, guys, grab hold. Lift!”
Dam! She’d hoped to have the TV moved by the time Mitch got back from the hospital. She’d show this...this renegade who’d accused her of...of... And after he’d tried to kiss her!
She wasn’t a kept woman! She and her kids could take care of King. They didn’t need help from Mitchell Kole—or anyone.
But the darned TV weighed more than a carton of bricks!
“Heave, guys.” She shifted her weight, took a wider step and came down on something that rooollllled...
“Ooohh, nooo... The crayoonnns!”
“Out of the way, kids. I’ll take that”
Mitch descended on them from the landing, just barely capturing the TV as it plummeted toward the floor.
Ellie kept right on plummeting.
“Unnhhh.” Whatever she landed on imprinted itself, probably permanently, on her backside.
Seri dashed across the room, with the dog hot on her heels, and threw her arms around Ellie’s neck. “Mommy!”
“I’m okay, sweetheart.” Ellie nudged the licking dog away and hugged her daughter, all the while avoiding Mitch’s glare. Her ego hurt a whole lot more than the bruise that would no doubt tattoo her bottom.
“Good—!” two very large, very warm hands lifted her to her feet making her feel like a rag doll with a silly, wobbly heartbeat “—because I’d hate to have to wait till you recover to read you the riot act.”
Ellie tried to pull away, but Mitch glowered down at her, holding her tight, making her forget she’d ever wanted to escape. His warmth ribboned through her like some kind of magical potion. She watched his eyes change to a cloudy uncertainty, his gaze slide to her lips. Her knees went weak—the same way they had that morning. What was this man doing to her?
Then he stepped back.
But the distance wasn’t enough, not nearly enough to stop what was happening to her. The explosions of light. The wanting. She was overheated and out of control because of his closeness. His touch.
Men like Mitch should never happen to her.
“Would you please tell me what you were doing?” he demanded. “You could have hurt yourself. Or a kid. You damn near dropped the TV.”
Ellie smoothed her sweater over her throbbing bottom and prayed her face wasn’t flaming. She tried to ignore her confusion.
“We’re moving the TV into the dormitory. I thought since King will be on crutches, I’d bring the land mines out here. Fix a safe place for him in there.”
“Land mines?” Mitch scanned the room, clearly uncomfortable.
“Toys.” Thank goodness for her children. She waved an arm to introduce him to the hazards of child rearing. And to hide her trembling.
Gabe had flopped back on the threadbare plaid sofa with a book and the dog, though he kept a wary eye on Mitch. More books cluttered the floor and the coffee table where Mitch had rested the TV. Michael crouched in front of his cardboard fortress, talking nonstop to a half-dozen army figures. Rafe stretched on his stomach in front of a coloring book and at least a hundred crayons—along with the portable phone. And Seri fussed with her dollhouse boxes, arranging them like an estate near Michael’s fortress.
“All this stuff makes walking...difficult. As I’ve just so cleverly demonstrated.” Ellie managed an embarrassed smile. “I don’t want King doing what I just did.”
She stood a little taller, the movement reflected in the mirror above the sofa. Mitch’s reflection caught her attention, too, and she couldn’t stop herself from meeting his gaze. He was watching her again with that same meltdown intensity. For a moment her heartbeat threatened to run away.
“Neither do I,” he murmured.
Neither did he what? Dam! Now he had her forgetting what they were talking about. Ellie gave herself a swift mental kick. This was the man who’d assumed she was his father’s mistress, for heaven’s sake. The woman staring back from the mirror hardly qualified for that kind of job. Clothes hanging too loose, eyes sporting dark circles—and her children, her wonderful children, added up to four.
No man took a mistress with four children—Mitch should know that. Her husband hadn’t even wanted a wife with four children.
She made a point not to look at Mitch again as she headed toward the door. “Okay, guys, let’s bring the rest of your stuff out here.”
“Since he thinks we’re too weak, why don’t you have him help?” Gabe’s defiant voice rose from behind his book.
“Gabriel Sander, that’s no way to—”
“I...uh...have a few things to tell you first.”
Mitch’s announcement stirred Ellie’s concerns. “Is King okay? They’re keeping him in the hospital longer, aren’t they? I didn’t think he should come home after only four days.” Please let that be all Mitch