Tyler bounced the basketball, feeling impatient. Where was Carlie? He was anxious to see her again, which surprised him to no end. He'd decided he must be a glutton for punishment, because as much as she seemed to look down on him and his life-style, he still enjoyed every minute he spent with her. Even when they were arguing.

The woman had a real flair for putting him in what she considered his place. She was fun.

He heard a sudden squeaking of gym shoes and looked up, a huge grin spreading across his face when he saw her. Carlie was waltzing onto the gym floor, looking as if she wore the comfortable, baggy sweatpants and thigh-length sweatshirt every day. She couldn't quite stop her nervous hands, however, from tugging on the hem of the shirt, trying to pull it farther over her thighs.

He couldn't resist teasing her. "Well, Ms. McDaniels! You have very long legs. I hadn't realized."

She held his steady gaze and Tyler found himself antic.i.p.ating what she might say. She never reacted as he expected her to. She never reacted as most other women would.

She was definitely unique.

"There was no need, nor will there ever be a need, for you to notice my legs, Tyler."

His grin never slipped. He enjoyed baiting her, watching her struggle with her temper. "Is every d.a.m.ned thing you own the same shade of mud? Don't you have anything blue or yellow?" He smacked his forehead, as if struck by a thought. "Red! You might look...nice, in red."

Her teeth snapped together in a loud click. "Watch your language. There are children present, and no, I have no desire..."

"None at all?"

"...to wear red! We're only playing basketball, for goodness' sake, and I hardly think the occasion warrants dressing up."

"It doesn't warrant dressing down, either. Is your body actually in there somewhere?" He leaned back, his gaze ranging slowly over her. "There's enough extra material there to clothe three women."

"Not that it's necessary for me to explain myself to you," she told him, starting to lose that steady, rock-solid calm, "but I thought I should wear clothes that were loose to allow for freedom of movement. I always wore something similar when I was a child and played basketball. I believe in being comfortable."

Tyler paused with interest. "You have some experience with the game then?"

"A little."

He chuckled. Knowing Carlie, and he was getting to know her, despite her efforts to remain aloof, "a little" probably meant she was very proficient at the game. "Excellent. We'll start by outlining the rules to the children, then we'll choose sides. I'll lead one team, you can lead the other."

Carlie nodded, but put in, "After warm-ups. I don't want to take a chance on anybody getting hurt."

"Whatever you say. But you'll have to lead those. I don't know any, other than sit-ups and such, and I'm not certain what kids this age are used to."

Tyler watched Carlie as she rounded up the kids and introduced them to him. As he spoke with each child, taking the time to joke and put them at ease, he caught Carlie staring. He winked at her, and she favored him with a genuine smile.

He wasn't used to her doing that, and for a second there, it threw him. Then he realized she was merely pleased that he was taking the time to really talk with the children. What had she thought he'd do? Bark at them?

The exercises she'd chosen were simple, but she challenged the children to keep up, to do each individual stretch properly. Throughout it all, Tyler watched her, and he grew increasingly curious.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s bounced. He'd never really noticed how amply endowed she was until now, but Mother Nature had treated her generously. And from what he could tell, she was totally unaware of it.

Unfortunately, he wasn't.

After helping a little girl catch the rhythm of the exercise, he wandered between all the children, checking to see if anyone else needed help. But even as he did that, he kept his gaze on Carlie, watching her every move.

When they finally broke up into teams, Carlie taking four girls and the biggest boy, Tyler with four boys, he announced they would play "shirts and skins." He led the boys in stripping off their shirts, then noticed Carlie staring. She tightened her mouth and blushed bright red when he caught her eye. He was amused, but he also liked the idea of her liking his body. Walking toward her, seeing her back up a step before she could stop herself, Tyler grinned. When he reached her, he slipped a fingertip over her lips, then chucked her chin, all without a single word. She closed her mouth with a snap, stomping to the other side of the hoop. But still, she looked her fill.

Later, after each of the children had taken a few practice shots, Tyler pulled Carlie aside. "They're well-behaved. Only a few of them are a little rambunctious." He laughed. "I heard one of the boys daring another to do a few...indiscreet things. They saw me looking and changed their minds."

"Just remember that when the novelty wears off and they get used to you. They can become a little more than rambunctious."

There were several occasions to point out misconduct, ranging from offensive language to shoving. Once, Tyler had to break up a skirmish between two of the boys. By the time six o'clock rolled around, Tyler was beat and Carlie looked exhausted.

But still, she took the time to make certain each child was bundled up properly. She helped with tying shoes, answered numerous questions and convinced one little boy that he didn't really want to hit another, just because the child had sneezed on him.

Then she gave the sneezer a tissue.

"I'm impressed," Tyler told her, his eyes on her flushed face. "You're really good with kids. You never once lost your temper."

She shrugged off his compliment. "I enjoy them. They're fun, and honest to a fault."

Tyler felt a tug on his hand, and looked down at a little girl named Lucy. She was smiling at him, showing him the stuck zipper on her coat. He helped her get her coat closed, then tweaked her nose. As he started to stand, she threw her skinny arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. "Thank you, Mr. Ramsey. I had fun."

Surprised, he looked toward Carlie, then ruffled the girl's tangled hair. "I did too, Lucy." She giggled, and Tyler grinned at her. "You'll be here Monday?"

"Yes, sir." She skipped away, leaving Tyler to stare after her.

"Whatever could that little girl have done to deserve detention? She's a doll."

Carlie waved goodbye to the last little boy, watching as he climbed into his parent's car, before allowing the heavy gym door to close. She turned to Tyler, chuckling softly. "Lucy has a problem with her language. She could make a sailor blush when she puts her mind to it. Personally, I think she just wants attention. Her father took off about a year ago, and her mother has her hands full trying to take care of five kids, all under the age of fifteen. Lucy sort of falls into the middle of the group."

Tyler turned away, his left hand rubbing the muscles of his neck. "I hate hearing stories like that. They make me want to strangle somebody." He began idly bouncing the ball, just to give his hands something to do and his mind something to focus on other than the problems of innocent children. But it didn't work. The issue was a sensitive one with him. "Why is it the kids who have to get hurt?"

"It's always the ones who are most vulnerable. That's simply human nature." She shrugged philosophically, then took him by surprise, s.n.a.t.c.hing the basketball out of his hands and dribbling it across the court.

Tyler watched her antics, knowing she was trying to distract him, and appreciating her efforts. Being with the children today reminded him of his own childhood. It had been rough for him and Jason, and when they'd become teenagers it had only gotten worse. Tyler had always pretended with his friends, bragging about the freedom he and Jason had, making it sound as if raising themselves had been a lark. And he had refused to admit to the embarra.s.sment of having a mother who was the town "lightskirt."

G.o.d, it had been hard. Luckily, he'd had Jason. But it wasn't the same. Children needed an adult to look up to, someone they respected and who cared about them.

These kids had Carlie, but he wanted to help, too, wanted to make a difference.

"All right, Tyler," she said, breaking into his thoughts. "Enough moping over things you can't change. I hereby challenge you to a little one-on-one. The first to make ten baskets wins."

His grin was slow and filled with wicked delight. He put his hands on his hips, watching Carlie as she continued to expertly dribble the ball. "What are we betting?"

"That I can beat the pants off you." Her tone was smug and taunting. And then she understood exactly what she'd said. She flushed scarlet.

"My pants? Well, Ms. McDaniels! It wasn't enough to ogle me without my shirt? You want to strip me of all modesty?"

"That would be impossible." Her face was still hot, but she began dribbling the ball again. "You don't possess any modesty and probably never have."

His grin widened. He approached her slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. "I'm ready when you are, sweetheart. But the stakes have to be worthwhile. Say...dinner? At the winner's choice of place?"

Carlie gave him a confident smile. She did a fancy little feat of bouncing the ball behind her back, then between her knees, before shouting suddenly, "You're on." She raced down the court, scoring the first basket before he realized the game had started.

"Oh, ho! Getting tricky on me, huh? I like a woman who can take me by surprise." Carlie faltered at his words, nearly losing the ball. Tyler lunged, staying right on her, his body looming over hers, his arms outreaching her, his legs able to cover the same amount of ground more quickly. Carlie claimed it was an even match.

She was good, real good. She dunked the ball three times before he had a chance to score. Then he got serious. But all the while, he grinned. He felt better than he had in a very long time.

They were both sweaty by the time the score was evened up, eight all. Tendrils of hair had come loose around Carlie's face, sticking to her forehead and flushed cheeks. She looked done in, but still very determined to win. And she was laughing, obviously enjoying herself.

Then Tyler accidentally hit her. He made to jump for the ball, and his elbow smacked against her temple. Stumbling backward, she landed on her b.u.t.t, her gla.s.ses slipping off her nose and dropping into her lap.

Tyler was horrified. "Oh, G.o.d, Carlie. I'm sorry!" He knelt beside her, taking her face in his hands, staring into her dazed eyes. Wide, hazel eyes. "Are you all right?"

She managed a slight, shaky smile. "I'm okay." Then she looked up at him.

His eyes locked with hers, and his fingers moved an almost imperceptible amount. As he studied her, something seemed familiar, some memory tickling at the back of his mind. Those wide eyes...

Then Carlie broke the contact, pulling away from his hands.

"You knew you were about to lose, right? That's why you belted me?" Her voice shook, and she tried another grin, but it was a weak attempt. Tyler wondered how badly she was hurt.

He was too busy trying to a.n.a.lyze the situation to answer right away. Carlie stuck her gla.s.ses firmly back on her nose, then called, "Yoo-hoo? Anybody home? Tyler?"

Finally, he shook his head, chasing away the errant confusion. "Sorry. Here, let me help you up."

"I'm fine, Tyler. I don't need any help." He helped, anyway, giving Carlie no choice in the matter.

He turned her, holding her chin in his palm. "Let me look at you. I think you have a lump coming up already."

She jerked away. "I told you, I'm fine. Quit fussing."

Tyler propped his hands on his hips, worried and filled with guilt. "I'll concede the game. Dinner is on me.

Carlie looked down at herself, then shook her head. "Dressed like this? I don't think so, but thanks, anyway."

Her refusal didn't surprise him, but it did annoy him. "You have to eat. It's been a long day."

"I have stew in the Crock-Pot at home. You're free and clear."

He picked up his shirt, drying the sweat from his chest and arms with it. He didn't particularly want to be free. "Stew sounds good. We bachelors don't get a home-cooked meal all that often."

Carlie raised her eyes to his, a look of disbelief mirroring her thoughts.

As hints went, his was blatantly clear and he held his breath while waiting to see what she would say.

"You are wrangling me for an invite?"

He shrugged, but the movement felt stiff. "I figure anyone who can play basketball as good as you, must surely be able to cook, too."

"Your logic escapes me, and besides, I don't think I made enough."

It was almost as if she was challenging him. He wanted to spend more time with her, but she was determined to put him off. He didn't like it, not one little bit. They would spend the evening together, despite the woman's ridiculous reservations. "I'll stop at the bakery and pick up some sourdough bread to go with it."

Carlie narrowed her eyes at his persistence. "Don't you have some female somewhere waiting for you to call and check in?"

"Nope. And I'm hopelessly lonely. Be kind, Carlie. Take me home."

"Like a stray dog? If I feed you once, will I have trouble getting rid of you?"

He managed to look hurt. Shrugging his bare shoulders, he said, "Never mind. I didn't mean to intrude. I just thought since we were both going home alone, we could share a meal. I had fun today. I don't get to goof off all that often anymore, regardless of what you think."

Carlie froze. He knew she wouldn't be able to handle hurting his feelings. Carlie was, despite her efforts to prove otherwise, a real softie. He watched her out of the corner of his eye and knew the moment she relented.

"I had fun, too, Tyler. And I suppose it would be nice to have someone to chat with over dinner."

Tyler raised his head, all remnants of self-pity disappearing. "Terrific! I knew you could be reasonable."

"Why, you big fraud!"

He simply laughed, not the least bit concerned with his deception. "Go get your things. I'll follow you to your house."

He watched Carlie stomp away. He could see her silently fuming. d.a.m.n, but he enjoyed her company. She was p.r.i.c.kly, independent, determined to do things her way. She didn't pout, didn't treat him to the silent bit. No, when Carlie had something to say-and she usually did-she said it. She was so unpredictable, so unexpected, she chased boredom right out the door.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Tyler drove behind Carlie, noting the slow, careful way she maneuvered her car. He was on the verge of laughing out loud. He shook his head, bemused. He couldn't recall ever having such verbal skirmishes with a woman. Women didn't react to him that way. But d.a.m.ned if he didn't like it. It was fun.

For that matter, Carlie was fun.

And he'd never thought of a woman that way before. She appeared totally immune to his flirting, but it wasn't because she was shy or withdrawn.

On the contrary. She was one of the most outspoken women he'd ever met. And intelligent. He enjoyed her company.

It was like having a pal, someone he could exchange mild insults with and still smile. But it was so utterly different with her being female. It was as if a whole new facet had been added to the relationship. It went a long way toward relieving his distraction over the mysterious-and missing-masked lady. And that in itself was a major feat.

Carlie pulled into her driveway and parked beneath a carport. Tyler pulled up to the curb out front, then he stared. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, probably a mud-colored house with a barren expanse of lawn and not a single speck of color. She took him by surprise. Again.

Her house was a small Cape Cod cottage nestled at the end of a narrow side street. A farmer's fields were on the right side of the house, a heavily wooded area to the left. Behind and in front of the white-and-yellow wooden structure was a well-tended lawn. Daisies were blooming everywhere, and her mailbox was designed to look like a small, colorful barn.

Tyler looked around, captivated. There was a tire swing hanging from the gnarled branch of an ancient oak off the back corner of the house. A curving porch circling to the right of the front door had a rattan porch swing attached to the overhang.

"A real swinger, aren't you?"

Carlie shrugged as she dug her key from her purse. "I'm not an idle person. I don't like to be still, even when I'm relaxing."