Fairy-Tale Family. Pat Montana
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to get rid of him.
Refusing to look at him, Ellie moved the portable phone away from Rafe and set plates of bear-faced pancakes in front of him and his sister, both of them seated on stools at the counter.
“Eat up, kids. I have to open the store in fifteen minutes.”
“Wonder if I could talk you out of a cup of coffee?”
She forced herself to look up at Mitch then. Right away she knew she’d made her second big mistake of the morning, ranking right up there with walking in on him in bed.
He was dressed now, but what undid her wasn’t the way his jeans hugged his ski-tightened thighs nor the way his damp hair curled along the edge of his navy turtleneck. It was his smile. His smile made her feel the same way she had last night when she’d watched him sleep. Warm...and wanting.
Darn! She knew that smile—the carefree grin of a charming, persuasive man. She watched it warm his sapphire eyes and deepen the lines around his broad mouth. His teeth shone startlingly white against his ruddy tan. The effect was breathtaking.
Ellie frowned. She’d given up breathtaking years ago. Along with a lot of other things—like teasing smiles and exciting promises. And when the kids had started coming, she’d given up dreams of a close-knit family...and a home...and security...
But she’d learned—oh yes, she’d learned. And she had no doubts that a charming ski instructor, like a charming musician, was not breathtaking. At least not for long. In the real world, there were no Prince Charmings.
“Sugar? Milk? We only have skim.”
“Mommy, The Prince wants bearcakes.”
Mitch stepped forward. “Coffee’ll do. Don’t know if I could handle bearcakes.” He smiled down at Seri.
Ellie reached into the glass-doored cupboard for a mug, fighting the melting feeling inside, tightening her defenses.
“Gabe? Michael? Time to eat.” Come on, guys. Please show up—fast.
Sometimes four kids almost overwhelmed her, but when she gathered them around her and looked into their trusting faces, they always gave her strength. Which was what she needed now. King hadn’t told her his son was attractive. He hadn’t said Mitch had this...appeal! Intuitively, she knew it put them all in danger.
To her relief, Gabe shuffled in from the living room. When he saw Mitch, he stopped.
She watched the two males size each other up, could almost see the hair rise on Gabe’s neck as Mitch smiled at him.
Good She didn’t want her kids snagged by Mitch’s charm.
Gabe resumed his trek to the end of the counter, his blue eyes filled with uncertain apology, his golden mop of curls almost level with her head.
“I’m sorry we were arguing, Mom,” he mumbled.
“Here.” He handed her a slightly tattered tissue-paper carnation. Head turned away, he leaned stiffly into her hug.
Pride, and a huge dose of regret, shot through her. In another year she’d be looking up at him.
“Hey!” Michael trotted into the kitchen followed by the dog. “Hey, hi! You must be King’s son. Know what? He told us you were coming. Can I ask you something? Will you teach us how to ski? Wanna see my fast feet?”
“Michael...”
He grinned that two-teeth-missing smile she loved so much and met her at the end of the counter, extending his own offering, half-crushed in his hand. Another paper flower, this one pale green and newly constructed.
“Sorry, Mom. I just wanted to—”
Ellie quieted him with a hug, allowing herself the impulse of wanting to protect him. It gave way quickly to the joy of wrapping her arms around his slender body and breathing in his little boy scent of hard play. Michael was as lean and full of energy as Gabe was solid and steady. She needed what she could draw from them both.
But she also knew when to let go. Before Michael could protest, she pulled away, tickling and poking. “Ooh, cooties.”
Michael giggled, and Ellie breathed a slow sigh of relief. Her sons had come to apologize. Michael had made a new “I love you” flower exactly the way she’d taught all of her children on their fourth birthday. And—blessed relief—for the moment Michael had stopped talking.
“Thank you, boys. I love you, too. Love you all.” She smiled at her brood of angels and felt a surge of strength. She would never let anything happen to them again. They had finally found a home and a bit of stability... at least for a while. She wouldn’t let Mitch Kole threaten their future.
“Climb up, guys. Time for bearcakes.”
She laid the two paper flowers on top of the others in the shallow basket on the counter, cherishing this bouquet of love from her children. Then she lifted more plates from the overhead cupboard and filled them with bear-faced pancakes, adding lots of butter and syrup.
Stalling again.
She had to convince Mitch Kole to go back to Colorado. He’d made it clear that he hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, so the task shouldn’t be too difficult. Gathering courage, she set the plates in front of her sons.
“Eat up. guys.”
“S‘pose I could get that cup of coffee now?”
“Coffee—?” Omigod. She’d completely forgotten. Rattled by another of Mitch’s breathtaking smiles, she poured the mug too full. Steamy brown liquid sloshed onto the counter.
Mitch lifted the mug, and she swiped away the puddle with a cloth, ignoring the inquiring rise of his dark brows. He was watching her too closely. She recognized that look. Once Peter had watched her like that, when she’d been young and rebellious and smitten with his promises. Before they’d had children.
Peter had made her giddy, the way only an eighteen-year-old could feel. Mitch’s regard stirred something else, something that made her nervous and selfconscious and short of breath. Something that made her spill coffee and made her heart race. Whatever it was, she knew she had reason to be alarmed.
King had told her Mitch wasn’t a family kind of man. She’d already known that kind of man.
“These are my children, Mr. Kole.” She presented them to him with a wave of her hand, her protectors, her talismans against whatever weakness it was in her that Mitch’s charm touched. She was well aware that four children under the age of ten would ward off just about any kind of man.
He continued to watch her too closely, with just a shadow of a smile. “Call me Mitch.”
Ellie regrouped her defenses. “This is Gabe, my oldest. He’s ten. Michael’s going on nine. Rafe just turned six....” Pride filled her as each of the boys offered a reluctant hand “...and you’ve met Seraphina.”
“I’m four years old and two months,” Seri piped up, holding up four fingers. “We’re The Angels,” she added. “Gabriel, Michael, Raphael and—”
“Seri!” Instantly Ellie regretted her sharpness.
“We used to be The Angels,” Seri said softly. “Before...”
Ellie’s throat tightened with contrition. “Sweetheart, I’m sure Mr. Kole isn’t interested—”
“Oh, but I am.” He eased onto the empty stool beside Seri. “You’ll call me Mitch, won’t you, Princess?”
she nodded eagerly.
“Good. Then tell me, who’s Bubba Sue?”
“Don’t you know? Bubba Sue’s King’s dog.”
“King’s dog? Well, I’ll be a—” He looked down at the little dog curled up under the stools. “I’m surprised her name’s not Queeny.”
Seri