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“Can we, Mom?” Simon piped up, proving he was paying attention. “I want to tell them about the aquarium.”
Feeling cornered, she moistened her lips, tasting the hint of ocean salt in the air. Simon would probably enjoy being the center of attention at dinner, as she had no doubt he would be. Other than her father, who believed that children should generally sit quietly unless spoken to, Simon didn’t spend a lot of time with men. She’d always been very careful not to let him get too close to the few men she’d dated to protect him when the relationships ended—as they always had after a fairly short time. She simply hadn’t met anyone who’d felt like a good fit. And now that Adam was here, she found herself instinctively wanting to protect her son again. Not to mention her own heart, which she feared was unexpectedly vulnerable.
“Mom?”
Trapped, she somehow managed a smile. “Thank you, Adam. Tell Mr. Farrell we’d be happy to join you. What time?”
“Does seven work for you?”
It was a little later than Simon usually had his dinner, but he’d had a snack before they’d come out to the beach, so she figured he’d last until then. And it would give her time to get them both cleaned up. “Yes, seven is fine.”
He lingered a few moments longer, watching Simon play, and then he met Joanna’s eyes again. “See you later, JoJo.”
The offhand nickname shook her to the core, making her bare toes curl into the sand. She flashed to the memory of his voice in a darkened bedroom, husky in her ear as he’d laughed softly and murmured, “Just let yourself go, JoJo. You know you want to.”
She had let herself go with him, in a way she’d never done before or since with anyone else. Just remembering their lovemaking made her weak in the knees.
Adam was studying her too closely. His stormy gray eyes darkened and narrowed, as though he could somehow see the steamy images in her mind. They stood staring at each for what seemed like minutes, though it was probably only a moment or two. They were jarred into motion when Simon made a sudden explosion sound, sweeping a hand to crash down one wall of his castle.
Adam didn’t jump, but he sounded a bit startled when he asked, “What was that?”
Simon grinned up them from amidst the scattered remains of his construction. “Earthquake.”
Chuckling, Adam took a step back. “I’ll get out of the danger zone, then. I have a few more things to do this afternoon, so I’ll see the two of you at dinner.”
With one last glance, he turned and strode away. She couldn’t resist watching him. She’d almost forgotten his distinctive walk, a rolling, ground-eating gait that was as efficient as it was sexy. Pulling her attention away from the all-too-intriguing sight of his backside, she shook her head and began to gather her belongings, telling Simon to put his toys in the carry bag. They had to get ready for dinner. This was no time to dwell on how attractive Adam Scott still was to her.
* * *
ADAM AND TREVOR were waiting when Joanna led Simon into Torchlight just before seven. The resort included two dining options that were more casual than this upscale restaurant, so this was a special treat for her son. As they entered the restaurant, she reminded Simon to use his best manners and his indoor voice—something he sometimes forgot when excited.
Both men rose when she and Simon were escorted to their table. Joanna didn’t quite meet Adam’s eyes as she greeted them. After being seated, she was given a menu, but neither Adam nor Trevor requested one. Hardly a surprise. She was sure they had the menu memorized. She was offered a children’s menu, which she handed over to Simon, to the apparent surprise of both Trevor and Adam.
“You can read the menu, Simon?” Adam asked.
Studying the menu gravely, Simon nodded. “Most of it. What’s gira—giran—”
Joanna looked over his shoulder to read the word he pointed to. “Girandole. It’s a type of pasta, shaped like little spirals. It says it’s topped with a light creamy sauce with peas and chicken or shrimp. This is a very nice children’s menu,” she added to Trevor after glancing at some of the other choices.
He smiled, looking pleased by the compliment. “Our chef has four kids. He says it drives him crazy to take them out to eat and have them offered only burgers or chicken nuggets or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Kids can have all of that here, of course, but we make sure there are always other options for our more adventurous young diners.”
“I can recommend the girandole,” Adam said with a nod to Simon. “That cream sauce will make you want to lick your plate—though I doubt your mom would approve.”
“You doubt correctly.”
Simon giggled. Adam smiled at Joanna. His gray eyes gleamed like polished steel in the flickering candlelight. She swallowed hard and dragged her gaze away.
“I want the girandole,” Simon announced, mangling the pronunciation only slightly. “With shrimp.”
“Excellent choice, sir,” Trevor affirmed, making the boy giggle again.
Brought back to the present, Joanna placed her own order for a scallops and risotto dish she hoped she’d be able to swallow, considering how tight her throat felt. She then made an effort to mask her discomfort during this deceptively innocuous dinner with their host. She doubted very much she was the only person at the table aware of the undercurrents swirling beneath their lighthearted small talk.
At least she didn’t have to figure out how to make conversation. Trevor took care of that by asking Simon to tell them about the aquarium visit. Simon happily launched into a detailed play-by-play recount to which, to give them credit, both men listened graciously, inserting appropriate comments and questions. Joanna was content to sit quietly and let her son be the center of attention. She supposed this was a good way for Adam to get to know Simon a bit, in a public setting with no pressure or expectations on either side. To Simon, Adam was just one of two nice men with whom he was having a special dinner.
She glanced at Adam’s face to see if she could judge how he felt about that, only to find him looking back at her. He appeared to be dividing his focus equally between her and Simon. Was he still annoyed with her, despite the dinner invitation? Still suspicious of her? Did he doubt that Simon was his son? Could he really look at this boy and not see himself sitting there?
He talked easily with Simon, and not in an overly patronizing tone her bright son found annoying. A pang went through her as she watched Simon respond eagerly to the male attention.
Simon would have enjoyed dinner with just her at the buffet, too, she assured herself. She and Simon never had trouble having fun together or making lively conversation. But maybe she should have made more of an effort to find more male role models for him. She’d planned to sign him up for some sort of team sports when he got older, but five seemed so young.
Perhaps she really had been selfish. Her mouth suddenly dry, she reached for her water glass, looking at Adam over the rim as she took a drink. How much would she have to share her son with this man she barely even knew?
* * *
SIMON WAS AN amazing kid. Well-behaved. Funny. Smart. Almost scary smart for his young age. Adam figured the boy would probably be designated as gifted. From what he’d read, kids like that could be challenging to parent, trying to keep them both intellectually stimulated and socially engaged. Joanna appeared to be handling the balance well, judging by what he’d seen so far. Simon was obviously eager to learn, and he’d seemed to mix well with the other kids on the outing earlier. Adam had been impressed with how well he’d interacted with Cody, a child with far different needs.
He was frankly fascinated by Simon, finding himself searching the boy’s face for familiar features, wondering what Simon had been like as a baby, as a toddler, what he would look like as an adult. Fatherhood was one of the things Adam had written off, something he’d taken care to avoid. Or at least, he’d believed he had. He thought he knew himself too well to trust he’d settle in easily to routine domestic life. Despite the three years he’d worked relatively happily here at Wind Shadow, he didn’t consider himself the type to stay in one place for long, or to live up to the lofty expectations of others. With little particularly positive experience with family in his past, he’d never regarded himself as daddy material.
He was the type who slipped out in the night rather than face hard goodbyes.
He looked at Joanna, who picked delicately at her scallops while listening to her son’s cheery babbling. He’d reluctantly agreed with Trevor’s suggestion that a casual meal in a public setting would be a safe way to get acquainted with the boy and learn a bit more about Joanna’s agenda, if she had one. Still, this meal had to be as uncomfortable for her as it was for him, though she was doing a good job of hiding her emotions behind a fixed smile. He couldn’t help comparing it to the genuine, happy smiles he remembered from before—smiles that lit her eyes and crinkled her nose, pushed shallow dimples into her cheeks and were often accompanied by infectious laughter.
Even with the more forced expression, she looked beautiful this evening, her features illuminated by the candles on the table. She’d brushed her hair to a glossy chestnut curtain and accented her striking green eyes with what looked to be minimal makeup. Her sleeveless peach-colored blouse was cut just low enough to give a tasteful glimpse of creamy skin. He shifted in his chair and stabbed his fork into his steak.
“So, anyway, the aquarium wasn’t as big as the one back home, but it was still really fun,” Simon concluded when he’d shared all he could think of to report about his outing.
“There aren’t any aquariums in this country as big as the one in Atlanta,” Trevor replied with a chuckle. “I haven’t had the pleasure of touring that one, but I’ve read about it.”
Adam glanced again at Joanna to see if she reacted to hearing Trevor mention her home city. Obviously, as owner of the resort, he had access to his guests’ records. Did she wonder if Adam had snooped into her personal information? Because she would be wrong. This was the first he’d heard that she and Simon lived in Georgia.
“Atlanta, huh?” Adam said, dragging his gaze from Joanna back to the boy. “That’s where you live?”
Simon chased a pasta spiral with his fork. “We live in Alpharetta. But we go to the aquarium in Atlanta sometimes. And to the zoo. And the children’s museum, and the science center with the planetarium. That’s my favorite.”
“It sounds as though you stay busy.”
“We do things on weekends, because Mom doesn’t usually work then. And sometimes my school takes field trips. When I don’t have school and Mom’s working, my nanny, Rose, takes me places. Mostly the park. I like to feed the ducks there. Mom says there will be a lot of parks when we move, too. And a lot of boats and museums and...”
Joanna cleared her throat. “How’s your dinner, Simon?”
He scooped another forkful of pasta and shrimp into his mouth and said around it, “It’s good.”
She smiled and handed him his napkin. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. But don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Where do you work, Joanna?” Trevor asked conversationally, earning a quick look from Adam. They’d agreed before Joanna and Simon arrived that this meal would be pleasant and friendly, no interrogations. Yet he suspected Trevor had proposed this casual gathering as a way to scope out Joanna’s motives, which his suspicious friend still questioned. Still, Adam supposed this was an innocent enough topic.
Her reply was indirect—not where she worked, but what she did. “I’m an assistant professor of psychology.”
Adam felt his fingers tighten around his fork in response. It probably shouldn’t surprise him that she was an academic, but he was still a bit taken aback.
“So it’s Dr. Zielinski?” Trevor asked.
She smiled faintly. “Just call me Joanna.”
Adam reached for his wineglass.
Trevor seemed intrigued. “Psychology, huh? Have you worked in a clinical setting, or solely in academics?”
She toyed with the scallops remaining on her plate. “I’ve had a few private clients, but teaching has been my main focus until now.”
“Considering a change?”
“Yes.” She sounded as though that was all she wanted to say about it. Thinking of the way she’d interrupted Simon when he’d mentioned an upcoming move, Adam frowned.
But Trevor wasn’t quite finished. “Are you from the Atlanta area originally?”
“I am, yes.”
“Gram and Grampa live in Buckhead,” Simon inserted, making an effort to stay involved in the conversation. “My mom grew up there, didn’t you, Mom?”
Joanna nodded. “I did.”
“Grampa’s a surgeon. He cuts people open and fixes their hearts,” Simon added artlessly. “He says I can be a surgeon, too, but I want to be a marine biologist. Or an architect. Grampa says architect is just a fancy name for a carpenter who can draw, but that’s not right because they use computers and math and physics and design stuff. I saw a video about them. I think I’d like being an architect, but marine biology sounds fun, too. Mom said when we move, I’ll get to—”
The pasta Simon had balanced on his fork while he’d chattered fell with a plop onto his lap. He winced and looked quickly at his mother. “Sorry. It fell on the napkin, though.”
She was already helping him clean up the small mess. “Just be more careful, okay? Don’t try to talk and eat at the same time.”
She didn’t seem annoyed by the accident, Adam noted, drawing his fascinated gaze away from the precocious kindergartner. Was she actually a bit relieved that Simon had been interrupted again when he’d started to mention a move?
She didn’t seem to want to discuss her plans, whatever they were. Was she reluctant to talk about them because she didn’t want him to know where she and Simon would be living? She wouldn’t go to that extent to keep him away from his son, would she? That hardly seemed to fit with Trevor’s concern that she’d had ulterior motives for showing up here this week. So far, she seemed to be doing everything she could to hold Adam at arm’s length. Frankly, it was beginning to annoy him.
“What would you like for dessert, Simon?” Trevor asked. “Cheesecake? Pie? Or we have an excellent chocolate lava cake that you can order à la mode, if you like.”
“That means with ice cream! I like à la mode.”
Adam had to give Trevor credit. In his easy manner, he’d drawn out quite a bit about Joanna during this deceptively simple meal. They’d learned that she was a professor. The daughter of a surgeon. Adam was no expert on Atlanta, but even he recognized the expensive neighborhood Simon had mentioned so casually.
No wonder Simon was such a genius. He might’ve gotten Adam’s gray eyes and cowlick, but the rest had come straight from his mother. Adam wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of telling Joanna or Simon about his own dysfunctional family background.
Was there anything this kid needed that he didn’t already have? Especially anything Adam might have to offer?
* * *
TIRED FROM HIS busy day, Simon was already drooping by the time he’d finished his dessert. Still, after politely thanking their hosts for dinner, he wanted to linger at the small amphitheater near the lakeside bar to hear the calypso band. Relieved that the meal had gone relatively well, Joanna had kept her goodbyes polite but brief. It had been left unspoken but taken for granted that she and Adam would be seeing each other again soon. Adam had looked as though he wanted to say something more before they parted, but after a glance at Simon, he’d merely wished them good-night.
A handful of people danced around the tiny stage, their rhythm enhanced by a few too many tropical drinks. Simon was fascinated by the movement and the bright colors and the steel drum. Joanna sat next to him on a low bench and he snuggled against her to watch the festivities. Before the end of the second number, he’d fallen asleep.
Enjoying the party herself, she waited a few minutes before trying to rouse him for the walk back to their cabin. She was tempted to order a piña colada to sip while Simon dozed in her lap, but she knew she should get him ready for bed. He would need his energy for tomorrow.
“Looks like your date conked out on you.”
Moistening her lips, she glanced up to find Adam standing nearby, watching her and Simon without smiling despite his light words. He stood mostly in shadow, one side of his face illuminated by a tiki torch. The flame flickered in his dark eyes, seeming to mirror the inner turmoil he’d probably experienced that day. She knew her own emotions were pretty well shredded after the past fifteen hours.
“He’s had a full day.”
“Starting very early.”
She remembered the jolt of panic she’d felt when she’d woken at dawn and seen Simon’s bed empty. The relief when she’d found him. The shock when she’d identified his companion. “Very early. He wanted to listen to the music for a while before turning in, but he didn’t last long.”
“So he inherited your appreciation for music?”
Her thoughts drifted in response to the question, back to moonlit hours spent snuggled on a bench much like this one—if not this very one—listening to other bands. Getting up occasionally to dance in the sand, their fingers laced, bodies pressed together, mouths close enough for the occasional kiss. Until the tension had built too high, and they’d slipped away to find privacy. And a bed.
That all felt like another lifetime now.
She swallowed hard. “Yes, he loves music.”
Adam studied her face. Was he thinking back to the same things she was? Had he remembered their previous encounter as fondly as she had, or had she been nothing more to him than a pleasant diversion he’d forgotten about since? Still, he’d immediately recognized her face and knew her name on the beach this morning. She supposed there was some gratification in that.
But it was getting late. Looking down at Simon, she jostled him gently. “Come on, honey, let’s go back to the cabin. You need to get to bed so you can rest for tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to go yet. I want to hear the music,” Simon roused enough to respond, a hint of whine in his protest. As well-behaved as he generally was, he could be a pill when he was tired, which he certainly was now. She hoped he wasn’t about to show one of his rare flashes of five-year-old temper here in front of...well, in front of everyone.
Adam motioned toward the lodges. “As it happens, I’m headed that way myself. How about a lift, buddy? You can ride on my shoulders if you like.”
Distracted and intrigued, Simon lifted his head to peer at Adam. “I’d be really high up, wouldn’t I?”
Adam smiled faintly. “Yes, you would. You’d be able to see a long way.”
Simon promptly climbed onto the bench and held up his arms. Joanna felt a ripple of dismay at the sight of her son reaching out to the man he didn’t know was his father. And something else...maybe a little possessiveness? Or was it fear of something she couldn’t quite define?
Adam crouched in front of the bench while Simon climbed on, then straightened with the boy high on his shoulders.
Giving her a slightly crooked smile, Adam asked, “Ready, JoJo?”
From his lofty perch, Simon giggled drowsily. “That’s a funny name for her. Aunt Maddie usually calls my mom Jo, but sometimes she calls her Joey.”
Joanna fell into step beside them. “Not if she wants me to respond.”
“Maybe I should call you Dr. JoJo.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Not if you want me to respond.”
“Oh, I absolutely want you to respond,” he said lightly.
Something about his tone made her miss a step on the pebbled pathway. She pulled herself together sharply with an admonition that she had to keep her wits about her this week. She couldn’t think clearly if she allowed herself to be dazzled again by infatuation—or whatever it was she had once felt for Adam, if only for a weekend.
