Ready for Marriage?. Anne Marie Winston
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Oh, man. Now that she’d said it, he knew exactly what she meant. He’d seen Mollie doing it on more than one occasion but since he’d never had trouble getting her to sleep for him, he’d never connected the dots. ‘‘Well, hell,’’ he said in disgust. ‘‘What am I going to tell the day care? I don’t guess you’d be able to—’’
‘‘I can’t go over there every day and put her down for her nap,’’ Kristin said briskly. ‘‘Even if they’d allow it, I’m not going to have time. The sanctuary is in an uproar right now and I’m going to have work coming out my ears.’’
‘‘Sorry,’’ he said immediately, meaning it. ‘‘I didn’t really expect you to. Any suggestions?’’
There was a short silence. ‘‘I’ll tell you what,’’ she said. ‘‘How about if I meet you there in the morning. I’ll let Mollie cut a lock of my hair and we’ll tie it up and keep it in a bag so that at nap time she can get it out and keep it with her.’’
‘‘You can’t cut your hair!’’ He was truly shocked.
She laughed. ‘‘Just a little piece from underneath. Derek, you know how much hair I have. I’ll never even know it’s gone.’’
Oh, he knew exactly. Hadn’t he been having dreams of that moon-silvered mass of curls sliding over his body? Belatedly, he realized she was awaiting a response. ‘‘Uh, that would be terrific,’’ he said. ‘‘If you’re sure you don’t mind.’’
‘‘Not at all.’’ Her voice was brisk again. ‘‘See you in the morning.’’
She was as good as her word the following day, although he was disappointed that she didn’t linger a little longer. She was wearing jeans today with a T-shirt, but they weren’t the baggy pants she’d once worn. These hugged her curves and emphasized the length of her legs. The shirt, too, was different. He was used to seeing her in large, floppy shirts—this one fit her snugly.
‘‘Don’t you have to dress up a little for work?’’ he asked her.
‘‘Not today.’’ She jingled her car keys, clearly anxious to go. ‘‘I don’t have any appointments today and one of the kennel staff broke an arm yesterday, so until we find a temporary replacement, I may have to help out in the kennels.’’ She grinned. ‘‘One thing’s for sure—I’ll never get bored doing the same old thing at this job.’’
Her words bothered him. ‘‘I’m sorry if baby-sitting was—’’
‘‘No, no,’’ she said in exasperation. ‘‘I wasn’t comparing the two. I only meant this is nothing like having a dry old accounting practice all day every day.’’
He felt better instantly, and as she walked back to her car, he couldn’t stop himself from checking out her back view. Damn. He shook his head, his good mood evaporating. She was going to have men all over her.
Aside from thoughts of the way Kristin’s hair swayed just above her heart-shaped behind in the tight jeans, he had a good day at the clinic. When he went to pick up Mollie, the aide reported that she’d had a wonderful nap.
They fell into a passable routine. Kristin called every few days to see how Mollie was and he knew from Mollie’s chatter that she was stopping by the day care, but he hadn’t seen her in almost two weeks, since she’d stopped to drop off a lock of her hair.
God, he missed her. He missed the indulgent glances they used to share at Mollie’s antics. He missed coming home to a lighted house and a hot meal, but even more, he missed coming home to her warm smile and the lazy discussions they’d had over dinner. He missed drying dishes and ducking when she flicked a towel at him, he missed seeing the tender way she kissed Mollie’s temple, the way she always took the time to kneel and rub Sarge’s furry belly.
It was ridiculous. He’d allowed himself to slide along after Deb’s death, had allowed Kristin to do far too much to hold his family together, had gotten far too accustomed to having her in his life. Now he hated being alone without adult companionship. Without female companionship, and one particular female at that.
When the phone rang on the last Friday in June, he leaped for it, his spirits lifting as he glanced at the clock. Nine in the evening. Kristin usually called about this time to see how they were doing.
‘‘Hello?’’
‘‘Hi. Can I stop over?’’
‘‘Sure. Right now?’’ Sure! He’d love to see her.
‘‘Yes. I have something I need to talk to you about.’’ Her voice sobered him. She didn’t sound happy, and he racked his brain, wondering what was wrong. Had he done something to upset her?
He had his answer in five minutes. He was watching for her car and he opened the door before she even got to the porch.
‘‘Hi.’’
‘‘Hi.’’ She stepped into the kitchen and she set down a large, handled file box. ‘‘I need your opinion on something.’’
‘‘Sure.’’ He turned a chair backward and straddled it, facing her. ‘‘Sit down and talk to me.’’ He couldn’t prevent the smile that crept across his face. ‘‘It’s good to see you.’’
She smiled back. ‘‘It’s good to see you, too.’’ The moment lingered, but before it could turn into anything else, she shook herself and reached for the box of files she’d brought along. ‘‘I think we may have a problem at the sanctuary.’’
‘‘What kind of problem?’’ He could probably deal with anything that came up. He was familiar with personnel issues, scheduling, all the things that went on in his office—
‘‘Derek,’’ she said, ‘‘I think something’s wrong with the budget numbers. There’s a discrepancy in the books.’’
‘‘A discrepancy?’’ He knew all about balancing budgets, but so did she, so why would she come to him about something so mundane?
‘‘Missing money.’’ She swallowed, and as he realized she was upset, her words began to assume meaning.
‘‘As in, a deliberate discrepancy?’’
She shrugged. ‘‘I don’t know. But it’s hard to imagine that half a million dollars going missing is an accident.’’
‘‘Half a million.’’ He was too shocked to conceal it. ‘‘Five hundred thousand dollars? Where’d it go?’’
‘‘If I knew that, it wouldn’t be a discrepancy, would it?’’ Her voice was just the slightest bit sarcastic. Immediately, she said, ‘‘I’m sorry. I know how you feel. It’s difficult to believe. When I first found it, I went over every column of the books.’’ She tapped the stack of files in the box. ‘‘It went out, largely in small untraceable sums, but it never came back in again.’’
He still couldn’t grasp it. ‘‘Are you telling me you think Cathie took it?’’
‘‘I don’t know what to think.’’ Her voice was anguished. ‘‘But that’s what it’s looking like.’’
‘‘Good God.’’ He sat back, and a heavy silence fell. Finally, he stirred. ‘‘Well, what do we do? We can’t ask her,’’ he muttered.
‘‘No.’’ Kristin sounded close to tears. ‘‘But I absolutely don’t want any hint of this to get out and accusations to fly unless we’re completely certain that it’s really missing and that Cathie had something to do with it.’’ She sniffed. ‘‘She loved the sanctuary. I can’t believe she would embezzle from us.’’
‘‘Kris, honey, don’t cry.’’ Without thinking, he rose from his chair and went to her, drawing