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Concentration furrowed Sean’s forehead as he complied with the first directive. Then he blinked at M.J., confusion in his eyes.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Trace the space.” When he nodded, she smiled. “Good. Now what?”
The boy thought for a few moments, then put the puzzle piece in place.
“Way to go, kiddo. High five.” She held up her hand and Sean slapped it.
The boy grinned at her before rolling around on the floor.
“I think we need to get rid of the wiggles,” she said, standing.
She shook her hands using a wrist motion and Sean imitated. He copied when she stretched her neck then moved her head from side to side before bending to touch her toes. That gave Gavin a good view of her fanny, which was covered by the usual black pants. Since she’d been coming, he’d dropped by the therapy sessions a couple of times for a few minutes and this was the first he’d noticed that she had some pretty nice curves going on. Then she smiled at Sean and the expression transformed her.
She was prettier than Gavin realized. That didn’t make him happy.
When he moved to the center of the doorway, Sean immediately saw him and grinned, then raced across the room, but there was no shouted greeting. Gavin’s chest tightened. He longed to hear his son say, “Daddy.”
Gavin brushed his hand over his son’s hair as the boy caught his leg. When he looked at M.J., he saw that her smile had disappeared and found he missed it.
“Hey, buddy. How are you?” When the child pointed to the puzzle, then M.J., Gavin said, “I see. You’ve been playing with M.J.”
“He likes puzzles,” she said. “He’s good at them.”
“Of course he is. He’s a Spencer.” But being good at puzzles wasn’t the progress Gavin expected. He met her gaze. “I’d like to speak to you. Do you have a couple minutes?”
“Of course.”
After Sean was settled in the kitchen with Lenore, Gavin looked across his desk at M.J. She sat stiffly, her hands linked in her lap.
He was still remembering her smile and irritated because he did. “I’ll get right to the point. As far as I can see, there’s no change in my son’s condition.”
“I agree.”
That surprised him. He was accustomed to spin and excuses when the desired result wasn’t achieved. M.J. stared back at him without apology.
“I thought there would be noticeable progress. Can you explain why there isn’t?”
“Yes.” Her chin lifted slightly. “Because Sean is a little boy, not a business project. He’ll go at his own speed, not the timetable you mandate.”
“Based on your glowing references, I just thought—” He ran his fingers through his hair.
“You thought I could snap my fingers, wiggle my nose and he’d be cured?”
“Something like that,” he admitted.
“This isn’t about a cure. It’s about regaining the function that was lost.” Her tone was patient, soft, soothing. “It’s going to take a lot of work. And that will take time.”
Gavin had noticed the way she was with Sean today. She’d been playful, firm, determined and lively. There was a sweetness about her that seemed to come from within. It appeared genuine and unforced, a natural extension of herself—very real. And that smile. She was pretty when she smiled, and he wanted to think of her only as plain.
“How long?” He heard the edge to his voice and suspected it was fear. He was afraid his boy would never be okay. If only this were a disease and ten days of antibiotics the course of treatment. He wanted his son back now. At the very least, he wanted guarantees and a time frame.
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t make a guess based on experience? When my father was dying of cancer, the doctors gave me an estimate and it turned out to be almost to the day,” he snapped.
“That’s an entirely different situation. Medical doctors have studies and data and tests that help them make an educated guess. In situations like this, there can’t be a specific timetable. Every child is different. Every injury is different.”
“Can you give me a ballpark estimate?”
“No.” She met his gaze. “But I can tell you that it might go faster if you get involved in the therapy.”
“You mean, doing puzzles?”
“That was brain exercise and therapy for hand-eye coordination,” she said.
“It looked like playing to me.”
“If therapy techniques weren’t disguised as fun, how cooperative do you think Sean would be?”
“Obviously, I don’t know anything about speech language therapy. How much help could I be?”
“I can show you what to do. I distinctly remember that you promised to do whatever it takes to help your son. I believe you said I could count on you.” The tender tone was gone, replaced by toughness.
And she was right; he had promised. She met him toe-to-toe and wouldn’t blink. Part of him respected her for that. On the other hand, he didn’t as a rule notice when an employee’s smile made her pretty. That thought was followed by irrational anger, which didn’t bode well for tact.
“You’re the expert, Ms. Taylor. It’s why I pay you the big bucks.”
Any earlier traces of warmth and patience disappeared. “Is this third degree really about Sean?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Are you implying that I’m dragging out a child’s therapy for financial gain?”
“Are you?”
“That would be unethical.” Her mouth tightened and anger flashed in her eyes, making them a darker shade of blue.
You’re beautiful when you’re angry. The thought jumped into his mind before he could stop it. In that moment, she was striking. Something inside him responded, stirred to life, and he regretted it instantly.
Again his temper took over. “This wouldn’t be the first time someone held a child’s life hostage.”
“What does that mean?” she demanded.
It meant he’d been stupid once. A woman had used his child to get to him and he wouldn’t let it happen a second time. M.J. seemed warm and real and sincere. But what if he was wrong again?
When he didn’t answer, she stood. “Gavin, you’ve made it clear that you believe everyone has a price. But I’m not everyone and you don’t know me.”
He was getting to know her, and he wasn’t sure yet if that was a problem. “What’s your point?”
“Just this—you were the one who badgered me into taking this job. If you don’t trust me, I’ll gladly walk out that door. You’re paying me for my skill, but you have no idea what it’s costing me. That little boy is—”
The bleak expression was back in her eyes. “What, M.J.?”
She swallowed several times, then caught her top lip between her teeth. Finally she said, “Sean is the same age Brian would have been.”
That took the heat out of his temper. “I didn’t know.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. And I don’t know you. I don’t know why you’re cynical and determined to mistrust everything I do. I did warn you that I’m not the way I was, that my abilities are impaired, but you insisted. I promised you that I would do the best I could under the circumstances. But if you’ve changed your mind, say the word and it would be my pleasure to resign.”
Gavin studied her. He could almost see the anger drain out of her, replaced by weariness. Dark circles bruised the soft skin beneath her eyes and it had nothing to do with getting popped while breaking up a high school scuffle. But it might have a lot to do with the hard knocks in her life.
On top of that, she taught full-time and worked with Sean three evenings a week. He’d just seen for himself that the therapy demanded a high level of energy and attention. It wouldn’t violate his rules to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” he said.
She met his gaze. “If you do, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Then she walked out. After she said goodbye to Sean, Gavin followed her and opened the front door, but she walked out without looking back. She got in the car and turned the key in the ignition several times before the engine caught.
He watched the red taillights of her old car until they disappeared in the fog. He’d never thought he was the type to form an opinion about a person based on appearance, but now he wasn’t so sure. He’d thought M. J. Taylor pale and plain, but a few minutes ago he’d seen flash and fire in her. There was more to her than he’d first thought and he suspected there was far more than the little she’d revealed.
He realized he was staring into the swirling mist and closed the door. If only he could close off his thoughts as easily. He hadn’t spent this much mental energy on a woman in a long time.
And that time had been a disaster.
Chapter Four
M .J. put games, puzzles and flashcards in her backpack, then glanced around her room to see if there was anything else she might be able to use with Sean in today’s session. It was interesting that the techniques came right back to her as if she hadn’t been away for a year and a half. Somehow it seemed disloyal to her little boy’s memory, but her punishment was the pain of seeing Gavin’s little boy and being reminded that she would never see her own son again.
There was a soft knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.
Her mother opened it, then frowned. “You’re going out?”
“Yeah. Sean Spencer.”
She’d explained to her mother why Gavin had stopped by that day. The cover story was that his urgency and determination had eventually worn down her resistance and he’d convinced her to work with his child. Evelyn seemed pleased that she was finally putting the past behind her and moving forward.
“You look tired, M.J.”
That didn’t even begin to describe how she felt. She was beyond tired and had settled into a permanent state of exhaustion. The extra strain of burying emotion and bracing herself to see Sean’s achingly sweet young face took every ounce of energy she had left after teaching high school.
But admitting as much would mean explaining why she was working two jobs, and M.J. couldn’t go there. “I’m all right, Mom.”
“All right isn’t fine. Why are you doing this after an exhausting day teaching those ungrateful teenage dweebs?”
M.J. smiled at her slang-challenged mother. “As weird as it sounds, I like them. And let’s not forget, today’s dweebs are tomorrow’s grown-ups.”
“Then you could give up the other job.” Evelyn didn’t smile. “You don’t have to work with Sean. Gavin could find another therapist. Surely you don’t need the money.”
It was an old, tired conversation. After M.J.’s husband died, Evelyn had assumed he had life insurance. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, he’d left her with a mountain of debt she hadn’t known about.
Yes, Gavin could hire another therapist. But M.J. desperately needed the extra money to clean up the mess of the mortgages and other bills that her mother was better off not knowing about. Unfortunately that meant no whining, and M.J. really wanted to whine.
Instead she put on a happy face and bypassed the issue of money entirely. “Sean is a bright boy. Full of energy.”
“How’s he doing?” M.J. set her full backpack by the door then let out a sigh when she sat on the chair. The card Gavin had given her was still tucked into her desk blotter. She traced the bold, black letters of his name. His bold, handsome face flashed into her mind and she shivered.
She met her mother’s gaze. “Sean’s making steady progress.”
Even if his father couldn’t see it. Was Gavin too demanding? He wanted results, but what father wouldn’t in the same situation? Any parent who didn’t want their child to go back to the way they were before an accident was a parent who needed serious psychotherapy. And a mother who’d lost a child needed something she could never get back.
Evelyn patted her shoulder. “I’m glad he’s doing better. But I’m still concerned about you. All day in the classroom and that doesn’t include time spent doing lesson plans or grading papers. Then three nights a week you work with Sean. You’re going to make yourself ill.”
M.J. didn’t want to think about what would happen if she couldn’t work. So she didn’t. “Don’t worry about me, Mom. The schedule is intense and I’ll admit it’s draining sometimes, but I’ll be fine.”
As long as Gavin didn’t decide his son wasn’t progressing quickly enough and fire her. That was something else she didn’t want to think about. If it happened, she had no idea what she’d do. For the sake of her sanity, she decided not to borrow trouble. Right now she had enough to worry about, thank you very much.
Evelyn studied her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m sure.”
When Evelyn’s expression filled with sympathy and sorrow, it was clear she was talking about the child they’d lost. “You’re not just doing all of this to keep yourself too busy to think?”
Even if that were true, M.J. thought, she was a dismal failure because she was thinking all the time. Unfortunately some of those thoughts were about Gavin. What had happened to make him so cynical? Was that having a negative impact on Sean? Not only was Gavin aggressively taking up her conscious mind, his too handsome image drifted through her dreams. The dark intensity on his face. The glittering passion in his eyes was seared into her subconscious and she couldn’t seem to forget how determined he was to have his son back. If desire were enough, that boy would be whole again.
Desire.
The single word made her tremble. How stupid was that? She barely knew Gavin; she hardly ever saw him. It seemed he made himself more scarce after she’d tried to get him involved in Sean’s therapy. But facts were facts. Even if she was capable of caring, a man like him would never be interested in someone like her. How weird was she that the thought made her wistful? She should embrace facts without question.
M.J. said with absolute certainty, “I’m definitely not keeping myself too busy to think.”
“Okay.” Her mother nodded. “You’re a big girl.”
There were times she wished she wasn’t, but never more than when Gavin looked at her with that mysterious expression in his dark eyes. She would give almost anything to know what he was thinking. Almost.
“Tell me about your millionaire.”
That surprised her. “You mean, Gavin?”
“Do you have another one?” Evelyn asked.
“First of all, he’s not mine.”
“But he is a millionaire. I read the paper.”
“Even the society pages?”
Her mother smiled. “I get bored waiting for the doctor and the hairdresser.”
