"What's funny?"

"You had that exact same expression on your face the very first time I kissed you." His voice seemed to come from his toes as he remembered their first kiss. He'd had no idea how innocent she was until that night. How could she still have that virginal look of awe?

Her cheeks turned a darker pink and embarra.s.sment replaced the wonder, making her appear even more naive. "Is that a good thing?"

He continued to caress her cheek. "I don't know."

Her hold around his neck slackened as she slipped her hands from around his neck. She smoothed his shirt where her earlier kneading had wrinkled the chambray. Looking at her hands, she winced. "I'd better get the grill started. The potatoes should be done in thirty minutes."

She moved away without looking at him, leaving him feeling bereft. What the h.e.l.l had happened to put such chill in the air? Wishing he could take her back into his arms, he swallowed as she moved through the kitchen.

Had she sensed the battle going on within him? Had reminding her of their early past upset her? Or was she expecting more than he could give? She couldn't expect him to simply forget about how she'd betrayed him, and he was a fool for giving in to the l.u.s.t. But as she opened the French doors leading to the patio, he knew one kiss hadn't been enough. Whatever her motives were for getting involved with him again, he now had his own. He wouldn't stop until she was in his bed, but he'd never love her again.

He couldn't.

However, before anything could happen, they had to get through supper with their kids. "Tracy, wait."

She turned, and he crossed the kitchen to the open door. He saw the uncertainty in her expression. "Let me grill the steaks. That way you can finish with the rest of the meal."

He had no idea what he'd said, but her face beamed as she patted him on the chest and pa.s.sed him to return to the kitchen. "That would be fantastic! There's the grill."

"What's their names again?" Mandy got down on her knees in the middle of Bobby's bedroom to play with the dogs.

"The darker one is Ginger and the lighter brown one is Cinnamon. They belong to my grandma."

As Ginger licked her face, Mandy giggled. "We have a dog, too. Her name is Bailey. I want a kitty, but Daddy won't let me have one. Says we have too many barn cats already. I really like kitty-cats. Grandma Jackie has three."

Bobby liked Cinnamon and Ginger, but he'd like to have his own dog. The only pets he had were in a gla.s.s aquarium. "Hey would you like to see my frogs?"

"Sure." Mandy stopped playing with the dogs. She peered through the gla.s.s of the aquarium sitting on a stand by the windows of the big room. "Cool!"

"You like frogs?" He never played with girls, but Mandy was different. She didn't act like a girl. When they'd played at Uncle Dylan's wedding, he'd expected her to be a sissy. But he'd never forget what she looked like in that frilly dress when she followed him into the lake to play in the wateruntil her dad yelled at them to get out.

She looked over at him with a big gap-toothed grin. "Oh, yeah. Once I found one in Grandma's garden and picked it up." She shrugged and giggled. "I thought she'd scream her head off when I showed it to her. It was so funny."

Bobby matched her smile. "My aunt Charli hates 'em, too. She doesn't like snakes either. There's lots of snakes in the lake over on b.u.t.terfly. She wants Uncle Dylan to get rid of 'em, but he won't 'cause they eat mice and stuff like that."

"Do you like to ride?" Mandy asked after a few moments more of watching the three tropical frogs hanging on to the side of the gla.s.s.

"II never went riding." He wasn't going to tell her his dad didn't want him to learn to ride. "But Uncle Dylan is gonna teach me and give me a horse." He wanted his mom to get him a horse. His uncle Dylan had told him he'd teach him if his mom wouldn't. "I bet you have a pony."

She turned and leaned against the aquarium stand. "I have a horse, too. My daddy gave me Holly for Christmas last year. I got my pony Poppy for my birthday after we moved to Texas. Daddy's teaching me how barrel race on him. I'm gonna be in the rodeo at the fair next summer."

"Oh, wow." Sure, she could probably get whatever horse she wanted. The Cartwrights owned a horse ranch and her dad had been a rodeo cowboy. "Where'd you live before moving here?"

"Wyoming."

"Why'd you move?"

He watched Mandy lose her smile. "My momma went to live in heaven with Jesus."

"Oh. You mean she died?" She nodded, and he said, "I thought your dad and mom were divorced."

She shook her head. "But your momma and daddy are, right?"

"Yeah, they're divorced, and they hate each other. I live with my dad every other week. He's great." He thought about the football game when the other team was winning. His dad wasn't so great then. He'd threatened to take away all of his video games and told him he was playing like a baby. He hated when his dad got like that.

Mandy puckered her mouth as if she was thinking really hard. "I don't remember much about Momma anymore. We have pictures of her, but sometimes I forget things. I remember she'd take me to the park and play with me. I didn't see much of my daddy. He was a Marine and fought in the war."

"My uncle Dylan was in the Army, and Granddad Quinn was a general." Bobby couldn't imagine not being able to remember his dad, or never seeing him again. Or his mom. He'd really miss his mom if she ever went totally away. It made him sorry for the little girl. When she only nodded and continued to stare into the frog tank, he asked, "How old were you when your mom died?"

She glanced at him. "Almost four. She died in a car wreck. But now she's an angel in heaven and helps G.o.d take care of sick people. She was a nurse and that's what she does in heaven."

He didn't know much about angels. His mom took him to church on Sunday mornings when he was with her, but his dad didn't go to church. He didn't think Dad even believed in the stuff the preacher talked about. Bobby liked to think there was a heaven, but sometimes it all seemed too confusing.

Before he could show her his new Xbox game, she asked, "Do you think your momma will be my daddy's girlfriend?"

He sharpened his gaze on the girl. "What do you mean?"

"I think me and Daddy need a subst.i.tute momma. You know, like a subst.i.tute teacher. She could do my hair and teach me about girl stuff and play with me like my real momma did. My grandma tries when I'm with her and so does Amymy other babysitterbut I'm not with them much when Daddy's at work. I'm in school or at the daycare."

"You want my mom and your dad to get married?"

"Yeah, I guess someday. I like your momma lots," she said softly after a while and turned toward the frogs again.

"I'd like my mom and dad to get back together. I don't like your dad."

She looked at him. "Why not? My daddy is nice. He gave you a football."

Bobby had expected Zack to ignore him, but Zack talked about the game at which he and his mom had sat together.

"You said your momma and daddy hate each other," she reminded him.

Bobby moved over to where his games were stored and wouldn't look at her. His mom wouldn't let him have his gaming system in his room, but he kept his favorite games on a shelf by his bed. Someday when his dad and mom got married again, he'd have a TV in his room like he did at Dad's house.

"I think my daddy likes your momma." Amanda's quiet voice broke into his thoughts. "I caught him looking at pictures last night. They were of him and Miz Tracy from before he and Momma were married."

"Yeah, I think they were boyfriend and girlfriend back when they were in high school or something." He didn't want to think about having Zack in his mother's life. "Let's go down to the lake out front. Maybe we can find some other neat stuff."

Mandy looked up at him and smiled toothlessly again. "Maybe we can find some more frogs."

He grinned and hoped her dad never found a subst.i.tute mom to teach her about girl stuff. He liked her exactly the way she was. "Yeah. Let's go before Mom gets dinner ready. Hopefully, she doesn't burn the steaks. She usually does."

Mandy giggled.

"You know my mom can't cook, don't you?" he asked as they left his room. Maybe then she'd see his mom wasn't right for the job she wanted for her.

"That's okay. My daddy's the best cook ever."

Dinner was fantastic, despite the simple fare of baked potatoes, salad with store bought dressings and steak. Her mother's marinade, which Tracy had found relatively easy to make, and Zack's skill with the grill, made the steaks perfect. The night turned out pleasantly warm, and they ate on the wide flagstone patio by the pool.

Once they were finished eating, Bobby announced, "Mandy and me are going swimming."

Tracy finished her sweet tea and shook her head. "Not until you wait a little while."

"Maybe we can go find more frogs?" Mandy looked up at Bobby with hopeful, big blue eyes.

Bobby grinned at her and jumped out of his chair. "Okay!"

"Hold up there, you two." Zack gave Mandy a pointed look. "Miz Tracy has made a great dinner. I think it would be only fitting for us to clean up the dishes."

"Oh, Zack, you don't have to do that." Tracy stood and started gathering dishes.

Zack laid his hand over hers to cease her actions. The jolt it caused brought her up short, and she snapped her gaze to his. He must have felt it, too, because he smiled, causing even more frissons to quake through her. "It won't hurt them to help, and then we all can change and go swimming. By then the requisite half hour should be up."

She didn't miss the emphasis on the word all. Gulping at the thought of changing into her ratty old bathing suit, she could only nod. He continued to rest his hand on her forearm, the thumb making a slow circle on the inside of her arm. A mischievous glimmer showed in his eyes as if he could easily read her discomfort.

"Go change, Tracy. We've got this."

While the kids carted in the dishes from the patio table and Zack loaded them into the dishwasher, Tracy changed. She stared at her reflection and groaned. Her friend Mary Estrada, who after three children had packed on the weight, didn't understand Tracy's hang-ups over her skinny figure. Charli had pretty much said the same things Mary had when she'd tried to talk Tracy into wearing one of her skimpy dresses to the Fourth of July ball. Somehow, her new sister-in-law had managed to talk her into wearing a similar dress for the wedding.

How could they not see what Tracy saw when she looked in the mirror? The sharp angles of her face that made her nose too pointed and her cheeks too high. She only wore a double A cup brawhen she chose to wear one. Then there was the boyishness of her hips. They didn't know how relentlessly she had been tormented by the other kids while she lived in Germany, and how they'd called her names because of her crossed eyes.

She'd had several treatments for her eyes. For several months, she'd worn an eye-patch. Oh, yes, that had been fun. Then while in Germany, she'd had her first surgery because the eye-patch hadn't worked. For a year, she'd lived in relative normalcy, until the right eye had pulled to the inside again, then the left followed.

She'd undergone one more surgery after moving to Texas; fortunately that fixed her eyes.

After that nightmare, another had started. Her mouth was too small, the orthodontist had told her and her mother. Braces had been the only alternative to fix the overbite and make room for her permanent molars. She'd gone from being Wall-eyed Quinn to Metal Mouth in the s.p.a.ce of three months.

All this on top of being cursed as the tallest girl in her junior and high schools. It hadn't helped she was also skinny, which had earned her the lovely nickname of Olive Oyl.

She'd been poked and prodded by several doctors over the years, but the conclusion had always been the same. Her thyroid worked just fine, but her mother was tall and thin, as was her maternal grandfather and his father. She'd never forget a more recent visit to the doctor when the nurse had told her she should stop complaining; most women would kill to have her skinny genes.

During the summer between her freshmen and soph.o.m.ore years, she ate ice cream by the gallons, but it didn't help. When she'd mentioned to the wrong group of girls about her predicament, they'd turned on her, becoming jealous of her unfair, supercharged metabolism.

Girls were jealous of her for being skinny, while the boys thought she was too skinny.

She shuddered at the cruel memories. Her only salvation had been her brother. After he'd beaten a boy for making fun of her, kids weren't as loud about their taunts. However, they'd still made them, especially after Dylan, who was four years older, headed off to college.

She'd had one boyfriend before Zack. Derrick Marino had been a year older than her sixteen years, a junior, and had been very shy. Everyone considered him a geek, but he'd been nice to her, and she'd given him a chance. He'd taken her to the drive-in and seemed too nervous even to hold her hand. By their fifth date, he'd eventually kissed her. She'd been infatuated with Derrick and often daydreamed that he was the one.

For weeks, she'd practiced writing her name, Mrs. Derrick Marino, over and over along with little hearts in her notebooks. She'd imagined their wedding and their babies. He'd become an engineer, she'd be a doctor, and they'd live happily ever after.

The happily-ever-after had ended one very painful night at the drive-in.

"I've been meaning to ask." His voice cracked the way it did when he was nervous.

She smiled and nestled closer. Here it comes, she pathetically thought, he's going to ask me to wear his cla.s.s ring. "Yeah?"

"Why don't you get a b.o.o.b job?"

"What?" She pulled away to stare at him.

"You know what I mean. All the actresses are getting them nowadays. You could get one. Your family's rich enough."

Tracy bit her lip so hard she tasted blood as the memory played out to its terrible end. That had been the last date with Derrick. He'd called several times over the next few days, but she'd refused to talk to him. He'd tried to explain that he was sorry.

Yeah, right.

She was glad that he was balding, had gained a paunch, and at last report, had just divorced his second wife. But he'd become a petroleum engineer. He worked in Dallas and lived in the sw.a.n.ky suburbs, while she'd gained a reputation of being a cheater and gone nowhere in Colton.

She'd thought about having her b.r.e.a.s.t.s enlarged, but never had the money to go through with the surgery. Now, maybe she should think about it. Then she thought about some of the women she'd known who had b.o.o.b jobs. Did she honestly want to look like them? No, she couldn't say she did. Besides, if she did have her b.r.e.a.s.t.s augmented, her already shaky reputation would be shot to h.e.l.l and back.

She'd dated men since leaving Jake, but not seriously. In fact, most of them were nothing more than friends she'd meet up with when she'd go honky-tonk hopping. Of all the men she'd known over the years, only a handful had suggested more than a good time on the dance floor, but she'd always refused them.

Partly, because she wasn't that kind of girl, despite her earlier mistakes, and in part, out of fear of rejection once they saw her without her clothes and padded pushup bra.

A knock on her bedroom door startled her. "Mom?" Bobby's voice sounded from the other side. "Are you ready? We're waiting on you."

She swallowed down the bitterness caused by the years of feeling inadequate and ugly. "In a minute," she choked out and wiped at the moisture on her cheeks. "Go ahead and get in with Zack."

Turning away from the mirror, she glanced one last time at the image of her unremarkable body in the black one-piece. Suddenly, a different memory snuck up on her. Zack laid her down on an old quilt over the soft gra.s.s on a starry, warm, mid-September evening.

The golden-haired boy over her had promised not to hurt her as he slowly undressed her. He'd seemed to worship every uncovered area of skin, causing a plethora of new and exciting sensations with his hands and lips. When the time had come for him to enter her, he'd whispered in her ear, "I'll never hurt you."

And as he'd gently taken her to a place she'd never known existed, she'd almost believed he thought she was pretty.

"He loved you, Tracy! He wanted to marry you!" Logan's voice echoed in her mind from the day he'd come to her door with evidence of how much Zack had, indeed, loved her.

"No!" she said and held her baby boy against her breast. "If he loved me, he'd have told me. He wouldn't have cheated on me!"

"Cheated on you?"

"Jake caught him with Dawn Madison."

"Tracy, Dawn Madison is only a friend. Zack has no interest in her. Jake lied to you. Zack came over to the ranch to give you this, that day he caught you and Jake together." Logan pulled the most beautiful diamond ring from his pocket. "My brother loved you. But you threw him away for a no-good grease monkey who publicly criticizes you and has done nothing but held you back."

Taking a deep breath, she turned her back on the mirror and the ghosts it conjured. But two questions still rattled around in her mind like the chains of a phantom in a corny old movie.

What did Zack see in me to make him fall so deeply in love?

Can he still see it?