Five of Hearts, page 3
“No!” Dean blinked. He hadn’t meant for it to come out quite so emphatically. “I don’t have any children. People have children when they’re married. I’m not married, so … no children.” Did he sound as defensive as he thought? He snuck a look at Shannon and nearly groaned when he realized how intently she was following his answer.
“Mommy’s not married and she has kids. Three of us. Triplets.” Now the other little boy had chimed in. Thankfully, this one kept his messy hands to himself.
“But once upon a time, your mommy used to be married, right?” Dean bit his tongue, realizing, too late, that he knew nothing about Shannon’s past and had no right to make any assumptions. He winced, wishing he could take back his words.
“Of course,” she coughed out. She pounded a small fist against her sternum like she had gotten something caught in her throat. Ah, yes … touchy subject. Fine by him. Relationships were the last thing he wanted to discuss.
They finished up their picnic with very little conversational input from the adults. Brenna put on an impromptu puppet show with the raspberries she’d stuck to the tops of her fingers. The boys held a mock sword fight with fried chicken drumsticks. Dean waited for Shannon to intervene and was mildly surprised when she only laughed at their antics. When the triplets were done eating, everyone helped to clean up the mess and carry it into the kitchen to either throw away or wash.
“That would not be acceptable behavior in a restaurant.” Shannon threw the words out over her shoulder as she stood at the sink. The kids had wandered out of the room so she must have been speaking to him. “But I find that if I give them the opportunity to be silly at the occasional mealtime, then they’re pretty well behaved on the whole.”
“It must be so hard to raise all three by yourself. Do you have any help at all?” Dean carried the empty potato salad bowl to the sink and plunged it into the sudsy water Shannon had filled it with.
“My mom comes out a few times a year, stays for a couple of weeks. But she’s got her own life. She’s so busy.” She smiled up at him.
“Man, if I had kids I’d definitely need backup.” Dean grabbed the dishtowel and intercepted a plate before Shannon could set it in the rack to air dry.
“What are you doing? Go sit down. I can do this.” Her hands fluttered as she tried to grab the plate back.
“You fed me lunch. The least I can do is help clean up the dishes.” He held up a hand when he saw she was about to argue with him. “You’re not asking for help, okay? I get it. I’m helping anyway, and you are going to have to deal with it.” He held her gaze until she relented.
Shannon shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and scrubbed the tines of a fork. She kept her attention focused on the sink in front of her. Dean reached for another plate to dry and tried to ignore the growing need to help this woman. Clearly, she didn’t want help and she seemed to have a handle on things. So why did he feel this intense desire to be her knight in shining armor?
They finished the rest of the dishes in silence. Dean watched the rain slide down the windowpane in wriggling rivulets. It was wet and miserable out there. He’d worked himself into a nasty mood this morning, upon waking to the same dreary weather that he felt had gone on for weeks. Munching on dry cereal, about the only food left in the house, had not improved things. Out of desperation he had found himself on Shannon’s doorstep. Now he worried that this might become something of a habit.
The triplets were playing quietly in the living room. Had he really thought of them as hooligans before? Dean felt bad. It wasn’t that he had anything against children. Kids were cute—generally. It was the being forced to assume financial responsibility for children he knew weren’t his that turned him off.
He thought back to the certified letter sitting on his desk at home. A vein began to throb in his temple and he had to work his jaw around when he realized how hard he’d been clenching it.
“Do you have to head right home?”
“What?” Wrapped in his thoughts, Dean jerked slightly when Shannon tugged the dishtowel from his hands.
“I thought I could put on a movie. It’s a good day for a movie.”
Oh, yeah. He could definitely see himself getting more and more comfortable with spending time with the neighbor. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t what he needed. He needed space, lots and lots of space. And peace. Dean looked down into those calming blue eyes and knew he was falling. He’d agree to almost anything if she’d just keep looking at him like that.
No! That’s how it always started. They lured him in with sweet smiles and soft gazes. They just wanted to spend time with him, they said. “Let’s get to know each other.” Then it was all about ‘”What did you bring me today?” and “I’m bored, let’s go out.” The latter meaning either they would find a way to spend lots of his money or he would be dragged to another exclusive party and be forced to make introductions.
“I need to go.” Dean pivoted quickly and headed for the foyer without further explanation.
He stopped at the door and glanced briefly at the doorway to the living room. Should he say goodbye to the triplets? Would it be rude if he didn’t? Shannon stood to the side and didn’t say a word. She just watched him. Taking a deep breath, Dean edged closer to the doorway before he lost his nerve.
“Um, I’m heading out. I’ll see you guys … and lady … around, huh?” He waggled his fingers then stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Quick as a wink, three coppery-headed blurs came at him. Dean had just enough time to correct his stance before they knocked him to the ground. Instinctively, his arms came out to steady them. It ended up looking like a group hug. What should have felt awkward and uncomfortable, instead, felt more like a punch to the gut. They were hugging him goodbye. And he liked it. Oh, God, he was in more trouble than he’d thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
Grocery shopping was never fun. Grocery shopping with five-year-old triplets who wanted to be anywhere else but the supermarket was a nightmare. Armed with her detailed list, the sale flyer, an envelope full of coupons, and all the patience she could muster, Shannon hurried up and down the aisles. The sooner they finished shopping, the sooner they could all go out and play.
Turning a corner without looking, Shannon winced when her cart bounced hard off another. She did a quick head count and saw that all the kids were fine. She then focused her attention on the poor customer she’d nearly plowed down. He wore a ball cap low over dark sunglasses. Blonde, sun-streaked strands snuck out below the cap. He looked around furtively, like he was trying to hide from someone.
“Dean? Is that you? I’m so sorry I ran into you like that.” Shannon angled her head, eyeing him quizzically.
“Uh. Hey. What’s up?” He checked over his shoulder and hunched further into his lightweight jacket.
“You okay?” She was starting to get worried. He looked as though he were being stalked.
“I’m fine. I’m shopping … for food.” He was clearly distracted.
“Run out of dry cereal, did you?”
“Yeah, I … how’d you know that?” He finally stood a little straighter and appeared to relax some.
“I figured you came by for lunch the other day because you were out of food. Or you were sick of your own cooking.”
Sparing a quick peek in his grocery cart, Shannon quickly ruled out the “own cooking” part. Dean was certainly stocking up on the dry cereal … and cans of soup … bread … peanut butter. Oh, this was just so wrong! Even a bachelor could live better than this. Hadn’t his mother taught him to cook? Did he go out and buy new clothes whenever it was time to do laundry, too? Good grief!
“What’s your favorite food?” She shot Dean a straight look that showed him she wasn’t just making idle conversation.
“I don’t know … pizza?” He shrugged his shoulders, the gesture sliding him further into his jacket, like a turtle retreating into its shell.
“Come on. You’re at a restaurant with a menu in front of you. What do you order?”
“Shannon, I really should hurry. I’ve got a ton of things to do back at the house.” Again, he looked over his shoulder like he expected someone to be following him. His eyes darted everywhere at once and sweat was starting to bead on his upper lip.
He looks really freaked out, Shannon thought. He couldn’t have been here long, and must have had more shopping to do. But he was in an awful hurry to get away. What could have him so worked up? Then it hit her, and Shannon had to refrain from slapping her forehead in discovery.
Dean was agoraphobic. All the evidence pointed to it. He lived alone and didn’t want anyone around. He found it difficult to leave the house. Once out of it he couldn’t stay away long before he felt too uncomfortable and had to rush back to the safety of his sanctuary. Oh, the poor man. Shannon had read articles on this condition and could only imagine the hell he must have to go through just to survive the day.
“Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry we kept you. You go on home and we’ll catch up with you another time.” Shannon gathered the children around her so Dean could maneuver his cart past them all. He paused just before he turned the corner of the aisle.
“It’s nothing personal. I didn’t want you to think …” His words were a whispered mumble. He looked conflicted, one half of his body turned away from them ready to run and the other half leaning forward like he wanted to stay and chat.
Shannon shook her head and waved goodbye, her smile sad. She would not get choked up here. She didn’t want to have to explain to the triplets why she was so upset for Mr. Dean. She imagined he’d be mortified if he found out her kids knew about what plagued him.
But if he thought he was in this alone, he would definitely have to think again! He had neighbors now, and neighbors helped each other out. If he felt safest at home, then she was going to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. He didn’t need to subsist on soup and peanut butter sandwiches. Shannon was going to teach Dean to cook.
“Come on, kids. I think we’re going to need a second cart.”
Hastily, shoving her grocery list and envelope of coupons into her purse, Shannon also had to scrap her usual buying strategies. She hadn’t had to shop for one since … no, come to think of it, she’d had never had to shop for just herself. She eyed the shelves and bins for staples that weren’t likely to go to waste. Instead of family packs of meat, like she would normally buy, Shannon picked up the smaller packages.
Her attention lingered over the pricier cuts of steak. Something told her that Dean was no stranger to filet mignon, or maybe even caviar. But if she was going to show her new hermit friend how to cook for himself, he was going to learn on her budget.
Even the triplets were helpful, knowing they were on a special mission. No one was whining, hitting, or asking for sugary snacks. Oh, they were definitely getting a treat for being so cooperative today! Shannon herded her brood over to the laundry aisle and asked the children to sniff the boxes of dryer sheets and decide, as a group, which one they liked best. While their backs were turned, she quickly snatched a box of crayons and three coloring books from a shelf on the opposite side of the aisle. She hid them in the grocery cart, under a big bargain bag of cereal.
Saving the things she didn’t absolutely need for another day, Shannon and the kids hurried through the checkout. They stepped outside, momentarily blinded by the sun finally making an appearance. Hearing her name hollered across the parking lot, Shannon looked up to see Talia and her twins, Drake and Danny.
“Hey, there!” Talia said. “We were just bringing some supplies over to Tumble Tots. Think I could borrow your gang for a couple of hours? We just got some new gym equipment and it really needs some hands-on testing.”
“Oh, maybe another time. I’ve got to get our groceries put away and then I have stuff to drop off at the neighbor’s.” Shannon smiled gratefully, still rolling the cart toward her minivan.
“Here, let us help.” Talia slipped her hands from each of the boys and made sure they were both holding on to Shannon’s shopping cart. Five children edged Shannon out of the way and pushed the cart in the right direction.
“Please? You’d be doing me a huge favor.” Talia gripped Shannon’s arm and drew her just far away enough to be out of range of little ears. “Jeff is on me to have another baby. Like two-year-old twins aren’t enough!”
“Well, why didn’t you say so? Had I known, I would have fed them a ton of candy.” The women laughed.
“Seriously … the place is closed. It’s just Jeff and me with the kids. We’ll get them nice and tuckered out. You go spend time with your new man.”
“Okay, but he’s just a friend.”
“Honey, you tell yourself whatever you need to.” Talia gathered her boys, with the promise that she’d meet them all at the kiddy gym in just a few minutes.
• • •
It was strange not having the triplets around. Shannon’s first instinct was to let the guilt she felt over enjoying herself ruin the peaceful solitude of the moment. She was all about making sure she had plenty of “me time” after the kids went to bed, but this was different. It was daylight. She didn’t have to pick them up for two hours, more if she needed it, Talia had assured her. It felt like playing hooky. It felt naughty. It felt good. Forget the guilt—this was too precious an opportunity to pass up!
Shannon smiled cheerily when Dean opened his door and gently nudged her way past him with her arms loaded down with grocery bags. His mouth hung open and his hand still gripped the doorknob. She giggled, bumping the door closed with her hip and knocking him out of his reverie at the same time.
“So, where’s your kitchen?”
She looked around the tiled entryway. A chandelier, dripping with crystals, took center stage. To the left and right of the door were small marble tables, each holding an expensive looking porcelain vase. Those wouldn’t last a day in my house, was her first thought. Half her modest little cottage could fit in Dean’s foyer. And looking up the wide, gleaming mahogany staircase, she knew there was a whole lot more house than this.
“Let me take some of those.” Dean’s gaze was bemused as he slipped a few of the bags out of Shannon’s hands and nodded his head down a hall toward the back of what was clearly too big to have been given the title of summer home.
She followed quickly, trying to sneak a peek in each room that they passed. Oh, a pool table! Wow, an honest to goodness library, with a ladder attached to reach the higher shelves. Ms. Sheffield didn’t have a library in the main house.
Shannon’s grin widened when they reached the kitchen. Now this place definitely wasn’t built for a bachelor who lived on dry cereal and peanut butter sandwiches. This kitchen was meant to host grand parties and state dinners. Shoving the bags on the nearest counter, Shannon turned a slow circle, taking in the stainless steel appliances, the yards of granite countertops.
Everything was state of the art. And to think that it had all just been sitting here, unused, for all this time. It was a shame that such a bountiful kitchen should be so completely devoid of lingering cooking scents. Her imagination conjured a sweet, yeasty bread baking, and the pungent aroma of root veggies and beef simmering in a rich stock. Oh, the things she could create in here!
“So … I’m not sure what to say. I mean, ‘thank you’ is definitely in order, but …” Dean put his own bags down and began rustling through the contents.
“You rushed out of the store so fast that I figured you weren’t nearly done with your shopping. I’m so sorry if we made you uncomfortable in there.” Shannon got busy unpacking the reusable grocery bags.
“I hope you don’t think I’m being pushy here, but I got a look in your cart before you took off.” Shannon stuffed all the empties into one bag and pushed it to the center of the counter. “You don’t really cook, do you, Dean?”
“That would be an understatement.” He rubbed his stubble roughened chin, looking sheepish. “I haven’t had to cook for myself. I guess when most guys are learning from their mothers, I was … busy.” He stared at a point just over her left shoulder.
“Well, today is your lucky day, my friend. I am going to teach you to cook.”
“And where is your posse while you are undertaking this thankless task?”
“I told you, it’s your lucky day.” She swatted him lightly on the arm. “The trips are in the process of being thoroughly run ragged so that by the time I pick them up they will beg for dinner and an early bedtime.”
“I guess that makes it your lucky day, as well, then.” His voice was a deep rumble she could feel inside her chest.
Dean leaned in close. He reached out a hand, his face so close she could feel his breath tickle her ear. Shannon caught just a hint of aftershave and her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. Oh, he smelled good! Without realizing it, she leaned in closer, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her eyes were focused on Dean’s neck, the scent of his aftershave tempting her to see if he tasted as good as he smelled. Belatedly, she realized that his hand hadn’t been reaching for her, but behind her, where he picked up a package of chicken and carried it to the fridge.
Shannon tried not to sound like a drowning person when she finally sucked in a couple lungfuls of air. She took the opportunity to compose her features once Dean’s back was turned. Her heart was ricocheting all the way up and down her windpipe. She wiped damp palms on her jeans. Good lord, she had thought he was going to kiss her! Worse, she had wanted him to, and had felt a keening moment of regret when she realized she’d misread the situation.
“Are there any other perishables?” Dean had turned his attention back to her.
Not knowing if her voice would come out sounding wonky or not, Shannon decided not to chance speaking. Quickly, she scanned the items spread on the counter and slid the carton of eggs in his direction. She gathered up the frozen loaf of garlic bread and held it out at arm’s length.
