Pooh trotted out to greet him. With the dog at his heels, he made his way through the living room, then came to an abrupt stop as he reached the archway that led into the kitchen. What he saw there nearly knocked him off his feet.
"I want to do it, Phoebe!"
"It's my turn!"
"Mine!"
"Hush! You can both do it, you little stinkers. Here's a knife for each of you. That's the way, Jared. Good job, Jason. A little more icing on the side. No, Jared, don't lick it until we're-Oh, well, what are a few germs between friends? Right, pal?"
Jesus. He knew it wasn't just lack of sleep that was making his eyes sting, but emotion. He'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life than Phoebe icing that ugly-looking cake with those two little towheaded boys kneeling on chairs beside her.
She didn't look at all like the mother of his imagination. Her man-killer fingernails were painted vampire red. Big gypsy hoop earrings played peek-a-boo with her calendar girl hair, and at least three bracelets clinked on each of her wrists. She had on an oversized Stars' sweatshirt-she'd gotten that part right, at least-but instead of wearing it with some nice jeans like mothers were supposed to, she had on the tightest, slinkiest pair of gold stretch pants he'd ever seen in his life.
No, she didn't look like anybody's mother, but those two little boys with chocolate smeared all over their faces obviously adored her. And so did he, with all his heart. He pictured her showing up for their kids' PTA meetings decked out in red satin and rhinestones, but instead of dismaying him, the idea filled him with pleasure. She'd marry him. Of course, she would. As he watched her, he refused to let the shadows of his childhood give him any doubts. A woman didn't break a fifteen-year sexual fast with a man she didn't love.
"Sing that song again, Phoebe," one of the children demanded while Pooh licked up the chocolate crumbs on the floor beneath the table.
"Which song?"
"That one about monsters."
"The werewolf song?" As the boys nodded, Phoebe launched into a spirited rendition of Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London," accenting the beat by swinging those amazing hips of hers. God, she was beautiful, and as he watched her, he felt an odd sense of peace. He couldn't imagine anything better than spending the rest of his life with her.
She swept the twins off their chairs to dance, her back still turned toward the doorway. He watched her wiggle to the rhythm, and he smiled when the boys tried to imitate her. She swung them around, then froze as she saw him.
"Don't let me stop the party," he said with a grin.
"What are you doing here?"
"Peg let me in as she was leaving."
The boys started to squirm and Phoebe released them. "I'm afraid you've got me at a bad time."
Jared tugged on her hand. "The cake's all frosty now. Can me and Jason have a piece?"
"Of course. Let me get some plates."
Her hands were clumsy as she pulled the plates down. She saw that Dan had knelt in front of the boys so they were at eye level. Lines of fatigue were etched in his face, but she didn't permit herself to feel any sympathy. Keeping up with two women at the same time was undoubtedly exhausting. She blinked her eyes against a fresh flood of pain.
"That cake looks mighty good, fellas. You make it?"
"Peg maked it," Jared replied.
"But Phoebe let us put frosty on it," his twin added.
"Chocolate," Jared explained unnecessarily, since it was decorating most of his face.
Dan chuckled, and the sound ripped through Phoebe's heart. She quickly placed a wedge of cake on each of two plates and set them on the cluttered table.
Dan stood to watch the boys scramble for their chairs. "Yessirree, that cake sure does look good."
Jason didn't let the fact that his mouth was already full stop him from talking. "The man wants some, Phoebe."
She tried to keep her voice light. "Not such big bites, killer. You'll choke."
Molly burst into the kitchen. "I'm home! Hi, guys. Hi, Coach." She gave each twin a pat, leaned down to get a kiss from Pooh, who'd jumped up on her, then regarded Phoebe cautiously. "Did Peg tell you what happened?"
"She said you had a meeting."
"There was a problem in the writing lab, and Mrs. Miller wanted to talk to us about it. Thanks for watching the boys." She made the statement begrudgingly.
Phoebe rinsed the frosting from her hands and dried them on a dish towel while Molly fussed over the twins. Dan came up behind her.
"Now that you can pass guard duty over to Miz Molly, what do you say we take a walk?"
"It's too cold outside."
"Shoot, that's good Chicago weather out there." Not giving her a chance to protest further, he grasped her wrist and pulled her from the kitchen. She couldn't engage in a struggling match with him in front of the children, so she went along with him until they had reached the foyer and were out of earshot.
"Let me go!"
For a moment he didn't say anything; he simply studied her with guarded eyes. "Seems like I've been a little slow to catch on. I just thought you were busy this past week, but you've been avoiding me."
"I've been busy."
"We need some privacy. Get your coat."
"I don't think so."
"Fine." He gripped her upper arm and pulled her up the stairs.
"Stop it!" she hissed. "I don't want to do this."
"Too bad." He led her into the bedroom and shut the door. Only then did he let her go, bracing his hands on his hips just as he did when he was standing on the sidelines. He had the same fierce expression on his face that she'd seen when he was about to do battle.
"All right, let's have it. Why the deep freeze?"
She had tried to postpone this encounter, had even hoped to avoid it entirely, but she should have known that wouldn't be possible. Dan wasn't the type of person to avoid confrontations. She bit the inside of her cheek because, once she started to cry, she'd never be able to stop, and she couldn't bear to have him see her break down like that.
"Are you mad because I didn't call you right after we slept together? You know what's been going on this week. I thought you understood." He glanced at his watch. "Matter of fact, I'm short of time right now. We've got a coaches' meeting at six."
"You'd better hurry and get your clothes off, then." She tried to sound tough, but there was a painful rasp in her voice.
"What are you talking about?"
"Sex. Isn't that why you're here? To knock off a quickie before your meeting?" The words hurt her beyond bearing.
"Shit. This is going to be one of those woman things, isn't it? You're pissed off, and I'm going to ask you why you're pissed off, and you're going to say that if I can't figure it out for myself, you're not going to tell me. Dammit, I don't want to play games like this with you." She could feel his anger building.
"Pardon me!" She jerked the bangles from one wrist and threw them to the bed, knowing that rage was a safer emotion to express than grief. "Let's get to it, then." She kicked off her shoes, sending them flying across the room. "Hurry up, Coach. You've still got your pants on."
He closed the distance between them and caught her by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Stop it! I don't believe this. What's wrong with you?"
She had broken her resolution to get through this confrontation with dignity, and she grew still in his arms. Taking a shaky breath, she spoke quietly. "I'm not going to sleep with you anymore, Dan. It was a mistake, and I shouldn't have done it in the first place."
He drew back so they were no longer touching. Although his voice lost its belligerent edge, there was a dangerous wariness in his eyes. "I know you care for me. You wouldn't have slept with me if you hadn't."
"I met Sharon at the Bills game." The guilty look that flashed across his face told her everything. "She's very nice. You have good taste."