Only In His Sweetest Dreams(10)

“Little younger,” L.C. said. “And thank you.” He set his teeth on the rim of his cup in a wicked smile. A biter.

Heat climbed from low in her spine.

She dropped her head to study Zack’s certificate, but needed a few seconds to make sense of it. Finally, she decided it looked authentic enough. She’d be able to see the pool from the meeting room if she left the door open.

“Keep them in the shallow end,” she said to Zack, handing back his paperwork. “If they scream, they have to sit on the edge until they calm down. They know that rule.”

Mercedes felt like she was under water, pressed from all sides, desperate for a chance to breathe.

“Let’s go.”



L.C. followed Mercedes and Zack outside, across the courtyard to the fenced pool where the boy tugged off a Spiderman T-shirt and claimed his Spongebob trunks doubled as a swimsuit. He shot through the gate and plunged into the water before Mercedes could argue.

Meanwhile, the little girl balked at entering the change room, explaining she wore her Disney Princess bathing suit already.

“It’s my bra and panties. So I can be a grownup lady, like you.”

“Oh. Well, pretending is nice, but I think you should just be a kid right n—”

“Dayton’s in the water. Shouldn’t you yell at him?” the little girl asked.

“Dayton, sit on the edge until Zack gets in there or you’ll have to dry off and watch Ayjia swim.”

Dayton grumbled and took his time about obeying, watching Mercedes to see how far he could push her.

“He’s not out yet,” Ayjia said.

L.C. would have grinned if he hadn’t been struck by how much those two kids reminded him of himself and his own sister. He snapped the lid off his coffee, swirled it, thought about everyone in Liebe Falls and couldn’t bring himself to drain and swallow. He raised his gaze to something that didn’t put such a lump in his throat: Mercedes. Now there was a tall, refreshing margarita.

She wore khaki shorts that would have come to just above the knees on most women, but hit mid-thigh on her long, smooth legs. Very nice. The shorts cupped her butt in a delicious way when she bent to retrieve the boy’s T-shirt, hinting at a firm, lush handful despite the fact she was more tomboy than hourglass.

He checked out the top half as she straightened. She’d tied off a filmy yellow button blouse over a brick-colored tank that snuggled pretty teacups. Not a weighty chest, but definitely worth sipping.

“Can I trust you to handle this?” Zack asked.

“What?” L.C. dragged his gaze off Mercedes’s long throat to Zack’s belligerent frown. Zack must have hit the men’s room because he wore blue trunks.

“Can I trust you to go into that meeting and not screw this up for me?”

L.C. gave his son a hard stare. “You keep telling me you’re handling this.”

“I know, but I said I’d watch the kids so she could talk them into keeping me.”

L.C. shook his head, not understanding his kid at all. Never in a million years would it have occurred to him to fight this hard to stay in school. He’d hated every minute of being there and had actually been relieved to quit and get a job after knocking up Brit.

“Just tell them I can handle the repairs. Maybe ask if we can look at them later, together, so I can ask you questions if I have any.”

“Don’t you have class?” L.C. asked absently, distracted as Mercedes leaned to retie the girl’s bikini top, making the legs of her shorts climb and show another half inch of supple thigh. Damn that was pretty.

“Don’t you?” Zack demanded.

Jesus fuck. L.C. tossed his cup in the outdoor bin and glared at his son. Any other asshole with this attitude would have felt a hard shove in his chest and the ground meeting his ass.

Zack flushed and said quietly, “I’m just asking you to leave her alone and do what I told you to do. I thought you quit all that!”

L.C. narrowed his eyes. “All what?”

“You went out last night then couldn’t get up this morning. Now you’re—” He waved at Mercedes.

Drawing a deep breath through his nose, L.C. looked over his son’s shoulder to the door that led back to the office, where he could walk away. Just climb into his truck and keep going.

Tempting. Very tempting, because it was clear that Zack didn’t want him here and L.C. really didn’t need to be reminded of the man he used to be. But he had dues to pay, always would, he supposed. So he forced himself to stand there and take the punishment of Zack’s frustrated, disappointed glare.

“I wasn’t drinking last night. I couldn’t sleep so I went to the diner across the road. I had pie and a cup of decaf.”

“Really.” Zack’s voice rang with skepticism.

It hurt. L.C. didn’t give a golden damn what most people thought of him, but this was his son. Maybe he should open up and explain to Zack how listening to Zack talk to his kid sister, the one who had survived, gutted him. He could tell him how certain nightmares woke him up and he would rather read the funnies in a day-old paper, eating pie covered in oil-based whip topping, than lie in bed with his own thoughts.

But he didn’t want to talk about any of that. Not ever in this life.

As a result, all Zack saw was the guy who’d fallen off the wagon for a year then left town at the worst possible time, abandoning his child.

“Ready?” Mercedes asked, squeaking open the gate so Ayjia could enter the pool area, glancing at Zack as she did.

“Yeah.” Zack moved away, his posture stiff.

L.C. had never been a stellar father. He’d been an even worse husband, far too young to settle down. He had partied while Britta had nursed their son and Britta’s puppy love had failed to mature into the lasting sort that might have given them a real shot at staying together. L.C. owned that.

But being a father had ultimately saved him from himself. Yeah, he’d made every mistake possible, but he had stayed sober when Zack was with him. He had turned up to work every day to make his support payments. He had had a reason to try.

That was why he’d been ready to give it another go when he had a second chance at fatherhood four years ago. He and April might not have been in love with each other, but they’d been in love with their child, both looking forward to raising it together.

Then his little girl had failed to take her first breath.

He’d taken it as a sign from the Almighty that he wasn’t a fit father for any kid. April had left and he’d walked away from parenting, even as he was offered a third chance.

He was reaping the consequences of that bolt. Zack had lost faith in him.

“Hoo. Hot,” Mercedes breathed, lifting her loose hair to reveal red-gold ringlets clinging to her neck. “Are we good to go?”

Any other minute in his life, he would have been more than ready to go anywhere with her. He bet kisses against the back of her neck buckled her knees.

Mercedes flushed a little, maybe from the morning sun’s growing heat, maybe from hearing the suggestiveness in her own comment. She sobered as she read some of the dark emotion swirling inside him.

With a jerky little motion, she said, “To the meeting, I mean.”

“Yeah,” he said, thinking, hell. And, damn. And, in another life.



Everyone smiled as Mercedes pushed into the room, all but Mrs. Garvey. She glanced at her watch-brooch.

The board had lined themselves up behind the table in their customary positions, Harrison half asleep as usual, Pete Dolinski beside him, Mrs. Yamamoto and Mrs. Garvey on the far end. Normally, Mercedes would have pulled up a chair on this side of the table and worked through an agenda. Today, it felt more like a parole hearing.

She smiled and kicked the doorstop into place, leaving the door open, pretending she didn’t notice the way Mrs. Garvey stiffened with disapproval.

“I just want to keep an eye on the kids. Zack has them in the pool. I’ve spoken to him a few times now. He seems like a good-hearted young man.” She avoided looking at the young man’s father, too aware of him as it was. If the board saw that...

Mercedes moved to the coffee service and poured a cup, just to avoid the called-on-the-carpet chair in the front row. “Zack genuinely seems to want to make up for his error in judgment and I think we should give him a chance to. Coffee, L.C.?”

“But about the children, Mercedes—” Mrs. Garvey started to say.

“Love one,” L.C. said.

Mrs. Garvey made an affronted noise.

Mercedes’s hand shook when she handed over the cup she had poured. She really didn’t want to be fired in front of this man.

And she would really love to know why his opinion mattered to her. He looked like he gave less then one hairy rat’s ass what anyone thought of him. They’d met yesterday.

“I know this is an awkward situation.” She turned to face the board, feeling L.C.’s stare so hot on her profile her cheeks burned. “But if we could table the discussion on the kids until later and just focus on Zack right now?” She cleared her throat. “I don’t mind taking responsibility for supervising him. I think he could be a big help around here. I mean, how often do we talk about the improvements we’d like to make, but the costs are prohibitive? Here we have an opportunity for free labor—”

“But what if you’re not here to supervise?” Mrs. Garvey asked. “If those children—”