“Dad!” Bailey called as he rushed into the garage.

We went wheels up at nine this morning in San Diego, noon here in Charlotte, and it was now almost 11:00 pm, which was an hour past Bailey’s normal bedtime. I relaxed the rules a little on Friday and Saturday, especially when I’d been out of town.

“How are ya?” I drawled as I crawled out of the car and stretched. The little jet beat flying commercial by leagues, but I was still stuck in a seat for almost eight hours.

We hugged, and I smiled as I held him close. Every day I wondered how much longer it would be before he was too big and cool to want to hug his dear, old dad.

“Good. I got an ‘A’ on my math test.”

“That’s great!” I said as I pulled my bag out of the back of the car.

“Yeah. Me and Parker Hoyles were the only two to make hundreds. Ms. Cabelera put a smiley on our papers.”

I grinned. He said it like getting a smiley was no big thing to him, but I knew better. I liked Ms. Cabelera. She was good with the kids and gave out the coveted ‘smiley’ on perfect papers. The little yellow sticker was a source of great pride for those that got one and point of jealousy for those who didn’t. Bailey usually got one if anyone did, but when he didn’t, he was disappointed, which motivated him to work harder. Mission accomplished, Ms. Cabelera.

“That’s awesome. I knew you could do it.”

“Yeah, but I still hate division. It’s hard. Why do I have to learn that stuff when they have calculators?”

“Somebody has to teach the calculators how to do it, right?”

“Yeah, but not me.”

I chuckled as I tossed clothes into the hamper for washing and hung my jacket so I could take it to the cleaner. “Okay, you got me there. How about this then. You have to learn it because Ms. Cabelera said so.”

“You always say that.”

“And I’m always right.”

“Yeah, I know. Bláithín wants to ask you something.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s been waiting for you to get home.”

I finished unpacking and placed my suitcase in the closet. “I guess I better go find out what she wants, huh?”

Bláithín was waiting in the family room. Like I never entered her bedroom, she never entered mine. She had complete run of the house, but she tended to keep to her room most of the time when she wasn’t working. The fact she was waiting to speak to me rather than waiting for me to come knock on her door told me whatever she wanted, it was important to her.

“Bailey said you had something to ask me?”

“Yes.” She smiled and shuffled her feet a bit. She was clearly anxious about something. “If you’re not busy this weekend, I’d like the weekend off.”

“The whole weekend?”

“Yes, sir, if that’s okay.”

I shrugged. “Sure, I don’t have a problem with that. Will you be home for meals?”

Her face lit up with her smile. “I don’t know. Don’t worry about me. Do you mind if I use the car?”

I wave my hand dismissively. “Not at all.”

I opened my wallet and pulled out a hundred and handed it to her. I paid her ten dollars an hour for forty hours, regardless of how many hours she actually worked. Some weeks, like this one, she was over forty hours since I was gone for three days and she was on her own with Bailey, but most weeks she worked only ten to fifteen hours. I also covered all her living expenses. The only thing I didn’t cover was her ‘spending money’ and what she spent on clothes. Her salary went directly into her bank account each week, but I slipped her another hundred bucks a week in cash, under the table, to give her some walking around money. The system worked for both of us, and what the government didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

She took the bill and smiled again. “Thank you, sir.”

I looked at Bailey. “I guess we’re on our own this weekend.”

Saturday, after lunch, Bláithín disappeared. She was clearly going out on date and had dressed to impress. I called Carolyn and asked if she wanted to join us for a run in the park. She sounded less than thrilled but said she’d join us.

Bailey and I were waiting by our car as Carolyn pulled into the spot beside us. She was smiling as she stepped out of her car, wearing the same black stretchy pants and clingy blue shirt she wore the last time I saw her here. Now that I knew what was under those form fitting garments, she looked even sexier than before.

“Glad you could join us,” I said, pulling her in and giving her a quick kiss. I chuckled when I noticed Bailey watching us with wide eyes. I realized he probably had never seen me kiss a woman before. “Trust me, your time’s coming,” I teased.

“Yeah, right,” he grunted as he pedaled off.

We began by walking to loosen up. I didn’t need it, but it would help her to warm and stretch a little. “How was work?” I asked to open the conversation.

“Same as always. If it were fun, they wouldn’t call it work.” She looked at me and smiled. “It’s kind of like running in that way.”

“Running is fun!”

She leaned into me. “I can think of at least one way I’d rather get my exercise.”

“Yeah, but you can’t do that in public.”

“Who cares?”

We walked for a bit longer. “Ready to run?” I asked.

“No, but let’s go,” she grumbled.

I sat a very relaxed pace. We trotted for about a quarter of a mile before I slowed to a walk again. She was breathing hard but wasn’t struggling for breath.

“I could keep going,” she panted as she fell in step beside me.

“And you will, but I’m pacing you.”

We alternately ran and walked over the next two hours. By the time we finished she was dripping with sweat.

“That’s enough for today,” I said as we slowed one last time. We were about a mile from the cars and I was going to walk her the rest of the way.

“Oh, thank God,” she gasped, her hands on her hips as she puffed. “How far do you think?”

“About eight miles, running and walking.”

She groaned. “You’re a sadistic bastard, you know that?”

I smiled at her teasing. “Let me make it up to you.”

“I’m too tired to even think about that right now.”

I chuckled. “Why don’t you come to our house. I’ll cook for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“I need to go home and change first.”

I shrugged. “I haven’t even started dinner, so that’s no problem.”

“I’d like that. What are we having, and do you want me to bring anything?”

“It’s a plan then, I don’t know, and no.”

She took my hand. “You’re going to spoil me.”

I smiled, liking the way that sounded. “Good.”

Dinner was running a little late. I’d decided to make coddle, a dish I’d discovered when Bláithín was homesick and I was trying to help her feel better. McDowell sounded very Irish to me, and I thought Carolyn might enjoy it. I didn’t have all the ingredients on hand, so I’d had to make a run to the store.

The bell rang and I heard Bailey romping across the room to the door. He was the appointed door greeter when I was home.

“Ms. Carolyn’s here!” he yelled from the front. “Hi! Come in! Dad’s in the kitchen.”

“Hey,” I said as I met her, pulling her into a quick kiss. Finished, I glanced at Bailey as he again watched us. “What? You want a kiss too?” I asked, holding out my arms, puckering my lips, and moving toward him.

“No!” he cried before he ran from the room.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Carolyn murmured.

“He’ll figure it out.” I paused. “Now that we’re alone,” I whispered before I kissed her more thoroughly.

“Much better,” she sighed. “What’s for dinner? It smells good.”

“Coddle. It’ll be ready in about an hour.”

“Coddle? What’s that?”

“An Irish dish made with sausage, bacon, and potatoes and served with hard rolls.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

I shrugged. “Considering your last name, I thought you might like it.” I turned to the fridge. “And to make it even more authentic…” I pulled out a bottle of dark beer and held it up for her see. “Ever had a Guinness?”

“Never. Have you?”

“Nope.” I opened the bottle and offered it to her.

She accepted it and took a long pull. “Whoa!” she cried, drawing the word out. “That’s got some kick!”

I took the bottle from her and sipped. I had to work hard to not grimace. “That’s…different.”

“You like it?” she asked, taking the bottle back.

“No, not really.”

“Wimp,” she murmured just loud enough for me to hear as she smiled.

She hovered in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, sipping her beer as I made the last of the preparations for dinner. She looked damned sexy, sitting there, the bottle held loosely in her hand. She always seemed so relaxed and comfortable in her own skin. I’d stepped between her legs a couple of times just so I could taste her lips.

“Where’s Bláithín?” she asked.

“Out on a date, I think.”

“Really?”

“What?” I asked, surprised at her questioning tone. “She’ll be twenty-two in a few days. She has a right to a life too.”

“So, no coming back to my place tonight?”

I stepped in and kissed her again, my hands resting on her hips. “No. I’m sorry. Not tonight.”

She sighed dramatically. “Probably just as well. You worked me over pretty good in San Diego, and now my legs are starting to hurt from running this afternoon.”

“We’ll go for a walk after dinner. That’ll help your legs.”

She groaned in mock dismay but her slight smile gave her away. “What about the rest of me?”

I leaned in close. “I could kiss it to make it better,” I whispered.

“What about Bailey?” she murmured in return.

“I’ll lock him in a closet.”

She snickered. “I dare you.”

“Okay, you’re right. Maybe we should lock ourselves in a closet instead.”

She watched me a moment. “Damn you. That actually sounds kind of sexy.”

I tugged at her hand. “My closet is a walk-in,” I said with a waggle of my eye brows.

She pulled her hand away. “Oh, stop it…before I make you put up or shut up.”

“Anytime you’re ready.”

After a few more minutes of suggestive repartee, I popped the rolls into the oven. By the time they were baked, the table was set and the entree was ready. The three of us enjoyed the coddle, and Bailey cleared the table while I loaded the dishwasher. The kitchen ship-shape, I turned to her.

“Ready for a walk?”

“I think,” she moaned.

“Bailey, Ms. Carolyn and I are going for a walk. Stay inside and don’t answer the door.” He knew the rules, but it never hurt to remind him.

“Okay!” His voice came from the back of the house.

Walking hand in hand with her after dinner, even if it was only a meandering stroll through the neighborhood, was something I really enjoyed and looked forward too.

“Are you happy at your job?” I asked during a pause in our conversation.

She shrugged. “I guess. Why?”

“I was wondering. Little things I’ve heard you say that makes me wonder. Like today, you said ‘if it were fun they wouldn’t call it work.’ Things like that.”

“I like it well enough, I guess,” she said after a short pause. She looked at me. “I’m almost thirty, and maybe I’m starting to look back and wonder about my life choices.”

“Like what?”

“All the stuff I told you.”

I again had the feeling she was withholding something. “Going to work right out of high school?”

“That’s most of it.”

“There’s more?”

She heaved a large sigh. “No, not really. I was just a stupid kid. I lived for the weekends, you know, and the next party. I look at you and the drive you had to succeed, and it makes me feel…”

“What?” I asked when she didn’t continue.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words. I’m starting to feel like I’ve wasted my life.”

I pulled her to a stop. “Now why would you think something like that?”

She shrugged. “Look at you. Same age as I am and look at where you are. Compare that to where I am.”

“And look at me compared to, say, Bill Gates. By the time he was my age, he was worth, what, maybe ten times what I am? I contend money isn’t a good indicator of a person’s worth.”

“Says the billionaire,” she muttered as she began walking again.

“So are you saying I’m a better person than you because I have more money? That’s ridiculous.”

“No, not really, but what if I’d been a little less worried about having a good time and a little more worried about making something of myself?”

“Trust me, working all the time isn’t any fun either. I know.”

“I get that.”

“Is this something you’ve felt for a while or is it new? It’s not anything I’ve done, is it?”

She stopped and turned to face me. “No!” she cried. “You’ve been wonderful.”

“So, you’ve felt like this for a while?”

She sighed again as we began to walk. “Kind of. Since my breakup.”

“He hurt you?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you, but his loss is my gain.”

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m serious.”

“I kind of feel the same way about you. I’m surprised some woman hasn’t snapped you up already.”

“I never felt the spark before.”

“Spark?”

“Yeah. You know, that feeling you get when you’re with someone that feels right.”

“You have that with me?”

“Oh, yeah. Big time.”

“And you never felt it before?”

“Not like this, no.”

“Not even with your wife, what was her name?”

“Cheryl, and no. Not like with you.”

We walked in silence for a moment. “I don’t know what to say to that. Why did you marry her then?”

“Bailey.”

“So? This isn’t the 1950s, you know.”

“I know, but I thought it was the right thing to do. And I did love her.”

“Until she walked out on you.”

“Yeah. That kind of put a damper on my feelings for her.”

“I bet. I guess I don’t understand why you were with her if you didn’t feel the ‘spark,’ as you put it.”

“I did. But with you, it’s different.”

“How?” she asked.

I thought a moment. “Cheryl was a light bulb. You’re a search light. The same, but different. Both give off light. One gives you comfort in a dark room, the other banishes the darkness.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time. “Thank you.”

“I’ve only known you a few weeks, but I like you. A lot. I’d like to get to know more about you.”

She nodded. “I like you too.”

“A lot?” I asked, my tone teasing.

She didn’t look at me, but I saw her smile. “Probably more than I should at this point.”

“Is it my fantastic good looks, my fabulous wealth, my stellar conversational skills, my prowess in bed, or my absolute modesty that you like the most? Don’t be shy.”

She snickered and slowly shook her head in mock resignation. “You’re a nut.”

“That’s what you do to me. You let me to be myself. I don’t feel like I have to pretend around you. I’d like it if you’d let go of whatever is bothering you and just be yourself with me.”

“I have been! What you see is what you get.”

“Then why this sudden idea that you’ve wasted your life. If you don’t like what you’re doing, change it.”

“I have to eat, Thom. It’s not easy.”

“I didn’t say it was, but few things worth doing are. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. If you could do anything you wanted right now, what would it be?”

“Lock ourselves in a closet?”

I flashed a smile. “I’m serious. If you don’t like working at the Harley dealership, what do you want to do?”

She was quiet for a time. “I honestly don’t know. I like my job, meeting and helping people.”

“So, what’s the problem? I’ve never seen you do your job, but from what little I know about you, I bet you’re damned good at it.”

“Thanks.”

“It takes all kinds to make the world go around. Every time you help someone with their bike, you’ve made their day a little better. When I have my car serviced, I’m thankful there are guys that enjoy working on cars so I don’t have to. I see no reason a motorcycle is any different. Remember that.”

She leaned in close. “If this investment thing doesn’t work out for you, you may have a career in counseling. Thank you.”

As we turned into my drive, I stopped abruptly. “One more thing. Your life choices made you the person you are, just like my choices have made me who I am. I like you for who you are right now, the Carolyn McDowell that’s standing in front of me. The woman I’m about to kiss. I’m glad you made the choices you did.”

She held my gaze a moment. “You’re a very kind man. Thank you for talking to me.”

“You’re a wonderful woman. Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.”

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to kiss me?”

I took her lips. The kiss wasn’t heated but was gentle and giving. I slowly pulled back, wishing I knew what was bothering her.

“Dammit. I wish Bláithín was home.”

I smiled as I drew my fingers gently down her face. “Yeah. Me too.”