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“Gee, thanks.” Ginger would be angrier if she hadn’t been thinking the same thing. Especially since sleeping with Scott a few hours before. That had been a huge mistake, although she didn’t regret having earth-shattering sex. But the shattering of her peace of mind since then worried her. She didn’t want him to know about the guys she’d been with in the past year, trying to appease her loneliness. Being with someone occasionally had helped her get through Kyle’s leaving.
They had been married, happily she’d thought, for four years. Now she was alone. If hooking up with a nice, single guy once or twice a month alleviated her melancholy for a few hours, who did it hurt?
But being with Scott changed that. She cringed to think he’d find out she’d been what her mother would call “loose with her affections.” Not that she had. She’d kept a tight rein on her heart, or rather, the pieces of it she had left after Kyle rejected her.
Because she couldn’t have children.
Ginger tried to suppress the constant ache the thought produced. She couldn’t forget. Her infertility was as much a part of her as her arm. Sometimes when she was with a man, she could shove the reminder from the forefront of her mind. The guys she spent time with didn’t care. They desired her, laughed with her and appreciated her as a woman.
She scowled at Lisa. “You couldn’t possibly understand.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “My first husband left me, in case you’d forgotten. For a younger babe he’d been sleeping with since she turned legal.”
“But you have Joe now.”
Her face softened. “Yes, I got extremely lucky.”
“And you’ve got Abby and Bobby and can have more kids.”
Lisa’s wide gaze darted to Ginger’s at the mention of another baby.
“Don’t wait,” Ginger said, watching her friend read her expression. It never failed—at the mention of babies, Lisa walked on eggshells around her. “I know Joe loves Abby and Bobby, but he’ll want his own children.”
“He’s not like that. He’s a great father already.”
Ginger nodded. “But men like their own genes passed on. That’s why Kyle wouldn’t even talk about adopting.”
The instant she mentioned the word, Ginger realized her mistake. Lisa would ask.
“Have you heard anything from the adoption agency?”
Ginger looked away. She knew she’d have to tell Lisa eventually, but saying it out loud would make it more real.
“Oh, no,” Lisa said, obviously reading her face. “What happened?”
“I got turned down for a home visit.”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon. Before the party.” She could almost hear Lisa’s thought process: So that’s why you went looking for comfort with Scott.
“That’s so unfair,” Lisa said instead. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ginger shrugged. “It’s the holidays. Why should we both be depressed?”
“You weren’t seriously thinking of keeping this to yourself for two weeks, I hope.” She rounded the counter and hugged Ginger. “I’m so sorry. It’s just not right.”
“I know that and you know that.” Her yearning for a child was even stronger now than when she and Kyle had gone to the fertility clinic to discuss options. “The adoption agency is concerned about me providing for a baby. The money, a sitter, the whole shebang.”
Lisa’s face creased into a frown. “Can they do that? I mean, I’m a mom and I have to worry about money and sitters.”
“I don’t know what they’re allowed to do and how much of the flak I’m getting is just this woman disliking me for some reason. When you give birth, you don’t have to jump through hoops to earn the right to be a mother.” She gulped a breath. “I don’t want to rock the boat, just in case she’s playing by the book. It’s better I lie low and cooperate.”
“Help is available,” Lisa said. “Dylan’s mom would make a spot for your baby at the day care she owns. The baby would be safe and cared for during the day.”
“I don’t like the idea of sending a newborn to day care, even one as reputable as the Wee Care.” But she’d have to. She couldn’t afford to quit her job or take a couple years’ leave of absence, which would be the same as quitting. She couldn’t expect the school district to hold her job. Her current financial situation would only allow her to stay home during the summers.
“The adoption agency is very concerned about backup. What happens when I have a meeting at school or something comes up? You know how I’m always being assigned to some committee.” She blew out a breath. “The witch at the agency was all over me about my lack of support. I don’t have any family here now that Mom moved. Obviously no husband. From the drilling I endured, you’d think single people never adopt kids. Why am I different?”
Ginger studied her hands before she spoke the words that plagued her. “Do you think she can sense I’d be a bad mother?”
“That’s ridiculous. You’ll be fantastic. You shouldn’t stand for that kind of treatment. You need to talk to someone else at that agency. Or go somewhere else.” Lisa frowned. “There are other adoption agencies in Kansas City, right?”
Ginger nodded. “I might try that. Ms. Booker seems dead-set against me for some reason.”
“As for help on a moment’s notice—when you’re not bringing the baby to Aunt Lisa, that is—Dylan’s brother has eight kids and a list of babysitters when you need someone reliable.” Lisa’s gaze flew to hers. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned Adam and Anne’s family.”
“I’m happy for them.” Other people having kids didn’t bother her, even them having eight children. Seeing pregnant women sometimes made her tear up, and envy ate acidy holes in her stomach, but she didn’t begrudge anyone the kind of happiness she longed for. “It’s not as though I think they got my share of kids.”
When Ginger met her, Anne Ross had been near to bursting with child number eight, a beautiful girl they’d named Penelope. Dylan, the proud uncle, had brought a picture to Lisa and Joe’s when Ginger had been at the same picnic. He didn’t know of her condition, and she’d begged Lisa and Joe to keep it between them.
It was bad enough Ginger’s own husband had found her defective. She didn’t need the whole town gossiping about it.
Just imagining the pity she’d receive made her blanch.
“So, this Scott guy,” Lisa started, “what’s he really like?”
“Are you asking as the wife of his boss or as my nosy, pushy friend?”
Lisa chuckled and washed her hands at the sink. “Both.” “He’s extremely nice. Well-mannered and polite.” “Uh-huh. That was for the boss’s wife. Now spill.” Ginger grinned. “He’s incredible in bed. Very giving, if you know what I mean. Strong, hot body, tanned all over, except for his swimsuit lines.” She closed her eyes as she recalled tracing those borders and what lay between.
Lisa giggled. “Wait. Maybe I shouldn’t hear this. I’ll probably have to see him at some function, and I won’t be able to block out this image.”
“Sweetie, you don’t know what you’re missing.” But Ginger was relieved not to have to think about Scott and how amazing the sex had been. Because remembering made it feel like more than sex, and it wasn’t. Couldn’t be.
“When do you plan to see him again?”
Ginger swallowed and tried to keep her expression calm. “What’s the point? You can’t improve on perfection.”
“But if being with him was perfect, why not have seconds?”
Ginger lifted her lips in an artificial smile, hoping Lisa couldn’t tell she’d clenched her teeth. Her friend insisted not every man would care about Ginger’s barrenness, and most men would be open to adopting if that were their only option to build a family.
Ginger didn’t believe it. She’d had a man, one who’d already committed his life to her. That man, with love in his heart, had found her lacking. What chance did she have making a stranger want her once she told him?
“Perfect,” she said, “is an illusion. The more you try to repeat it, the more you notice flaws.”
She couldn’t risk seeing Scott because she wanted to so badly. He’d gotten to her, touched her in secret places that had nothing to do with sex. When he’d said he didn’t want to hurt her, he’d meant by pulling her hair removing her barrette. But Ginger sensed he could seriously break her heart. And she just couldn’t risk that happening again.
THE NEW YEAR TURNED AND SCOTT still hadn’t called Ginger. He fingered the hotel notepaper in his pocket while he waited to meet his daughter’s second-grade teacher. The principal reminded him more of a used car salesman than an educator, and he’d already snagged Scott to serve on a committee. Scott knew his daughter wouldn’t be sent to the principal’s office, though.
Shelby was a good kid, saving her smart-aleck remarks for him. Testing him, his mother-in-law assured Scott. Apparently, Shelby had been angelic when she and Serena stayed with their grandparents while he’d been here getting the house ready. Shelby could test him all she wanted; he’d always be there for her. Even without a psychology degree, he knew Shelby feared he’d leave her and her sister. Acting out and pushing the boundaries made her a normal kid, considering all she and Serena had endured.
How could he put them through anything as traumatic as seeing him with another woman?
He’d carried the paper with Ginger’s phone number every day, worried he’d lose it. The crinkle and stiffness in his pocket the first days reminded him of their time together. But he’d been in Georgia then, retrieving his daughters from their grandparents’ house and enduring everyone’s tears. Now the paper had worn smooth, and its weight in his pocket wasn’t so much physical as mental. Guilt sometimes made him consider throwing away Ginger’s number, but he hadn’t. Nor had he called. He couldn’t bring himself to do either thing.
The office door opened and he rose, turning to meet the new teacher, who stumbled to a halt, hand on the doorknob, eyes wide and apricot hair secured in a ponytail.
His breath caught in his chest as his heart thudded. Hell of a way to find out his lover’s last name.
Chapter Three
Ginger gasped, feeling the blood drain from her face. Scott stood in Mr. Bushfield’s office, apparently the father of her new midterm arrival. Her flesh felt like ice, but she couldn’t blame the early January weather.
“This is Scott Matthews,” Bushfield said. “He’s brought in his daughter Shelby, who, as you know, is enrolled in your class.”
Scott held out his hand.
He wants to shake hands? Ginger pressed her lips together to suppress the hysterical bubble waiting to erupt. Shake hands, after what they’d done together? After the ecstasy that hand had brought her?
Or maybe that feeling of connection had all been on her part. Maybe he’d lied to her about being married. He hadn’t mentioned having a child. Had everything between them been an act? Ginger wanted to rush out, sick to her stomach.
She forced herself to focus and placed her hand in his, trying to behave as though he were any other father. Warmth zinged up her arm, raising more goose bumps. “Hello.”
He nodded. “Ginger.”
“You know each other?” Bushfield asked.
She snatched her hand from Scott’s but couldn’t tear away her gaze. His hazel eyes held none of the passion she remembered. She couldn’t read his expression at all, as though he were a stranger. And really, wasn’t he? “We met a few weeks ago.”
“At a party.” Scott’s gaze trailed over her as though he’d never seen her before.
Of course she looked different, she thought crossly. She couldn’t wear a slinky cocktail dress to school. Besides the kids ruining it before half an hour passed, she’d never be able to rise from the floor, where she spent much of her time. If Scott didn’t like her black slacks and snowman sweatshirt, too bad.
“This is my daughter Shelby.” His soft Southern accent had nearly vanished in the past weeks. Except for a slowness to his words, he sounded as hard and flat as a native Midwesterner.
Ginger peered around him as he pushed the girl forward. Dark brown eyes dominated Shelby’s pale skin. Her nearly black hair had been pulled back with purple butterfly barrettes on each side of her head. She may have inherited her darker coloring and delicate features from her mother, but the scowl on her face was pure Scott.
“Hello, Shelby. I’m happy to have you in my class.” She smiled, wishing the girl had a different father. One who didn’t make Ginger’s skin tingle. One who didn’t make her stomach clench with excitement.
One who didn’t know of her extracurricular activities.
“Would you like to see your new classroom?” Ginger offered. “The other children should be arriving in a few minutes.” She glanced at Scott. “You’re welcome to come, too. It sometimes helps for a parent to be able to visualize his child’s environment.”
She hid her grimace, fearing she sounded as condescending as Bushfield. She led them down the hall, overly conscious of Scott and his sullen daughter. Was the universe out to get her?
She strove for composure, but her mind had become a glaring white screen bordered by fuzzy screams she tried to ignore. Just as she tried to ignore Scott’s presence at her elbow. How long before she could look up Shelby’s guardian information and discover whether the night of passion she couldn’t forget, the night that had changed her way of thinking about herself, was actually a night of adultery?
She pointed to the right where she heard children singing. Hopefully the playground monitors would work off some of the children’s excitement about being back at school. The first day after Christmas break could be stressful. “There’s the gym. The students are inside today because the weather’s bad. Most mornings you can play outside. You’ll also wait for the bus after school in the gym.”
Neither Scott nor Shelby answered.
She could imagine the questions in his mind but wished she knew his thoughts. The woman he’d enjoyed a one-night stand with was his daughter’s new teacher. Amazing bad luck.
She passed the third grade rooms and neared hers, glad the discerning eye of Cindy Grady wasn’t on her at the moment. The woman stalked her every movement, waiting for a slipup. Cindy’s sister had lost her teaching job at the beginning of the year. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who Cindy had in mind for Ginger’s replacement, as soon as she could get her dismissed.
Maybe it was unreasonable to wonder why Scott hadn’t mentioned having a kid. To be fair, she hadn’t mentioned being a teacher, either. They’d met too near Christmas, a time she tried to avoid all thoughts of children, even those just under her care during work hours. Adding in her bad news from the adoption agency that day, she’d been less likely to discuss children than usual.
The man she’d slept with after the Christmas party had been sweet and gentle and considerate. She couldn’t believe he’d faked the loneliness she’d seen in the ballroom. Yet here he was with a child. Where was the girl’s mother? He deserved the benefit of the doubt until he had a chance to explain.
“Here we are.” She waved Shelby in.
The girl studied the room, not budging from the doorway. Ginger walked past them, trying to see the room as Scott might. Colorful walls, enough visuals to stimulate without overwhelming the children, and the basic white boards, with a number line, and both a print and cursive alphabet chart over them. Pull-down maps anchored each board.
“This will be your desk.” Ginger tapped a finger on a desk in the second row. She’d put Shelby by two of her nicest girls. One was outgoing and would instantly declare herself Shelby’s best friend; the other was quieter but just as sweet. Judging by Shelby’s reticence so far, Ginger guessed the soft-spoken Maria would be more to her liking.
Ginger glanced at Scott, who stood in the hall behind his daughter. “We have a reading corner for spare time, a library.” She pointed as she named the areas. “A writing area with huge sheets of paper donated by a certain local computer firm …”
He smiled faintly.
Tough crowd. Still, she didn’t teach incorrigible seven-year-olds because she was a pushover. “And a math center with fairly decent computers. Do you use a computer at home, Shelby?”
“My real school has a computer lab where we go to every week.”
Ginger suppressed a grin. Despite the intended slight, or perhaps because of it, this girl appealed to her. Not giving an inch and putting her new teacher in her place.
Scott set his hand on her shoulder. “This is your real school, Shel.”
Although she nodded, the girl’s mouth firmed. She’d take some winning over. Maybe the more gregarious Jean would be closer to Shelby in attitude than Maria, after all. “Your records haven’t arrived from your previous school yet. Do you have a favorite subject?”
Shelby’s teeth glinted in an angelic smile. “I liked computer lab a lot.”
Ginger bit back another grin at Shelby’s polite rebellion. By year’s end, this girl would either delight her or be her biggest headache. Glancing at Scott, Ginger decided to withhold her guess at which. His influence would be vital.
Ginger couldn’t tell what Scott thought of her classroom and hated that his opinion mattered. She’d put too much of her heart in here over the past five years to view the room impartially. Hoping for an insight, she gestured the two of them in. “You’re welcome to explore, Shelby.”
The girl hunched her shoulders as though she didn’t plan to remove her backpack or her coat. She had no intention of staying. Just then, Scott nudged her and they both entered the room. Ginger quietly exhaled her relief.
“Nice room,” Scott said.
She smiled with pride.
“I’ll be able to visualize you in this environment, Shelby, while I’m at work.” He turned a frosty eye to Ginger. “That’ll help.”
Ginger narrowed her gaze as he mocked her with her own words, but she kept her calm for his daughter’s sake. Not that Shelby had spared a glance for her teacher, except for the fierce scowl in the principal’s office. Why had the girl taken an instant dislike to her? Had she picked up the vibes between her teacher and her father? Hard to believe, especially when Scott had treated her like a near stranger, other than his mention of them meeting at a party. Had that set the girl against her?
“The girls around you are Jean and Maria.” Ginger pointed out their desks. “Harry sits in front of you and his twin brother, Ron, sits behind you.”
