Sparks Fly with Mr. Mayor (6 page)

“And you're listening now, too, when Mommy is telling you not to say that word again, right?”

“Yes, Mommy. Is this the right foot?” And that was that, life moved on. At least for Faith. And, of course, it wasn't the right foot, Faith being a little dyslexic when it came to her feet.

Soon they were loaded into the car, tooling along to Sullivan's Garden and Landscaping.

Thoughts of escaping to a commercial pumpkin lot in El Cajon or San Diego tempted Dani, but it smacked of cowardice. Because she wouldn't be taking Faith to have fun in the big jumping balloon or to play the carnival games. No, she'd be fleeing the prospect of running into Cole.

She hadn't seen him to talk to since he'd kissed her on her doorstep a week ago. He'd stopped by her shop to see her, but she'd been out to the bank. He hadn't left a message, and he hadn't come back.

She'd been totally and inappropriately disappointed she'd missed him. Which was exactly why she was avoiding him.

But not today. She wanted Faith to have the organic experience of picking a pumpkin from a real pumpkin patch. The two of them spent a lot of time in their tiny yard, building a garden that was both beautiful to look at and fun to play in. Dani did most the work and Faith most of the playing, and that suited Dani just fine. She found peace in the garden and she loved to see the plants and flowers bloom and grow, knowing she created such beauty. Plus the sun and exercise were good for her and Faith.

“Are we there yet?” a small voice demanded from the backseat.

“Yep, but I almost don't recognize the place.”

As she pulled in to the parking lot, she saw the commercial lots had nothing on Cole. Complete with
a jumping balloon in the shape of a yellow barn, Sullivan's had been converted into an old-fashioned farm.

Faith struggled to see out the window. “Wow, Mommy, there's a jumper. And cows and ponies.” She hopped in her car seat. “Can I go in the jumper? Can I ride a pony?”

“Those aren't cows, they're goats.” Dani parked and helped Faith from her seat. “Do you want your stroller?”

“No, I want to walk. I want to see everything.”

“Okay, let's go.” Dani took her hand. “It looks like there's a lot to see. Let's wander around first, to see what's here.”

With Faith skipping at her side, Dani led them inside. It was like walking into a new world. Sawdust and straw littered the walkways. Scarecrows greeted them and pointed the way toward the back of the lot where plants had been replaced by a mini petting zoo and the big yellow bouncing barn. Refreshment booths and autumn and Halloween displays lined the path. Farther along, a hayride took people out to the pumpkin patch.

Her gaze kept going up and, above the pumpkins, the hill rose another hundred feet to where a large house tucked into the surrounding pines sat at the top. With sprawling decks and a whole wall of windows reflecting the late-morning sun, Dani thought it probably had one of the best views in the whole valley.

Tugging on her hand, Faith led Dani toward the petting zoo. “Can I pet the goats? Please.”

“Oh, really?” Dani hid a grimace. She and goats, not the best of friends and she had the scar to prove it. For Faith, she'd bite the bullet, but maybe the girl could be distracted. “I thought you wanted to ride a pony.”

“I want to do both.”

Of course she did.

“Well, now, how are two of my favorite ladies?” Cole appeared beside them. He traced a finger down Faith's cheek. “Don't you look pretty in pink?”

“Cole!” She threw her arms around his knees. “I missed you.”

With a chiding look at Dani, he bent to pick Faith up and give her a kiss on the cheek. “I've missed you, too. Are you going to go in and pet the animals? There are bunnies inside.”

“Baby bunnies?” Faith asked in awe.

He shared a grin with Dani, causing her heart to twist at how wonderful he was with her daughter. His gentleness and patience put Faith at ease. More, he encouraged her to explore her world and expand her mind.

“Yep, baby bunnies. Would you like to pet them?”

“Yes, please.”

Her polite response made Dani proud. Her excited giggle made Dani sweat. She rubbed the scar on her
left index finger and eyed the enclosure anxiously. She was going to have to face the goats.

“Why don't I take her to see the goats and bunnies while you get us some popcorn and lemonade?” Cole suggested.

Surprised by the offer, she met his gaze. Understanding blended with an overt awareness and something else she didn't recognize but warmed her insides. He'd noted her distress and offered an out.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she responded softly, feeling the world narrow to just them. Lord help her, she missed him as much as Faith did.

“Purple looks good on you, and I like the skirt.” Holding her gaze, he reached out, fingering a loose strand of hair near her cheek. She felt the pull and wished for his touch. “You make a sexy gypsy.”

“Then I'm right at home.” She made a show of looking around. “This is quite a party you have going on.”

His gaze never left her. “Yeah, it's fun. Good business, too, though it's only evenings and weekends. There are booths where the kids can do crafts or paint a pumpkin, and there's face painting. Faith will like that.”

“Yeah, she will. I hope I brought enough money for all this.”

“You'll be fine. The booths, including the face painting, are free. The food vendors charge, but
they're all locals and they keep it reasonable. We just want everyone to have a good time.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him. “A happy customer is more free with his money?”

“So I've found. I love the holidays. It's my busy time of year. Not only do we have the festivities here, but my landscape clients want their buildings and grounds decorated for the holidays.” Pride rang in every word he spoke and in the way he surveyed his land and business. “After Halloween we have a harvest festival with craft booths, and from Thanksgiving through the end of the year we switch to a winter theme. The pumpkin patch is turned into a snow hill and Marty brings the petting zoo back with reindeer.”

“Wow, I'm impressed.”

His animation, the pride in his expression, the way he made nature an adventure for his customers all told her he loved what he did.

She nodded toward the far pumpkin patch. “I've seen you working the grounds out here.”

His eyes lit up and his fingers flexed. “Every chance I get. I saw your rubber plant was doing better.”

“Yes, much better. Thanks for the advice. I'm sorry I was out when you came by.” Jeez, lame maybe? But she couldn't outright say she missed him. They were competitors after all. “Was there something you needed?”

He shook his head. “I'm not dealing with that here. Not today.”

Something to do with the election, then. Of course it would be. So why the instant letdown? Didn't matter. She shook it off, agreeing with him. Not here, not today.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Mommy, the bunnies!” An impatient Faith demanded their attention.

“Right, baby. I'm sorry.” Time to man up.

“Dani, really, I can handle this.” Cole offered again.

She lifted her chin. So stupid to be afraid of a simple farm animal. “I don't mind the bunnies,” she said.

Trying hard not to appear a wuss in front of him, she almost missed the flash of resigned disappoint ment on Cole's face. She'd given him such a hard time about spending time with Faith he didn't think she trusted him with her daughter. Which wasn't true at all.

She knew to the very marrow of her bones he'd never intentionally hurt her baby.

Faith broke their connection by placing a tiny palm on Cole's cheek and turning his head toward her. “Can I ride the pony, too?”

“One thing at a time, Faith Marie.” The ponies were separate from the petting zoo. “The ponies will wait until Mommy gets back.” Dani glanced at Cole
and caught his look of surprise. “Be sure to take pictures.”

“I will.” He grinned. “Come on, munchkin.” Setting Faith on her feet, he clasped her hand and led her toward the enclosure gate. “Has your mom ever told you how smart goats are? They're smarter than mean old trolls.”

“I know that story. Billy goats…” Faith's chatter faded as the man at the gate waved them through.

Dani waited for the fear to come. She'd let her daughter go off and have fun with Cole without thoroughly analyzing the pros and cons, without considering how it would affect tomorrow, next week and Faith's teenage years.

Slowly she turned and headed for popcorn and lemonade. Any minute regret and worry would rise to claim her, haunt her for not taking the time to make a proper decision.

But wonder of wonders, she made it all the way to the snack booth and back without falling apart. She chose a bench that allowed her to see into the petting enclosure and sat.

Eating popcorn and sipping lemonade, she watched Faith and Cole huddled over a soft bundle of white fur. He helped her hold the tiny bunny and pet it gently. Not always an easy chore with an over eager three-year-old. But with his gentle guidance, the bunny was as safe in her hands as she was in his.

Sighing, she let the weight of the impulsive decision fade away. Maybe there was a lesson for her
here—that even though she was alone and totally responsible for her daughter's health and well-being, not every decision had to be a massive debate. Maybe sometimes she could just go with the moment.

And trust in an unexpected ally.

One thing for sure, there was a whole lot more to Cole Sullivan than a captivating smile and laid-back attitude. From the seriousness at christening classes to the vulnerable flashes of emotion she'd seen, and his pride and love in what he'd created here at Sullivan's, she realized the charming facade he showed the world hid a depth of character most people never saw. He even had his family fooled, which was amazing considering how close they were.

She'd have preferred to remain ignorant herself. She'd had a hard enough time resisting him when she'd thought him charming but shallow. As an honorable, responsible adult he'd be devastating.

C
OLE PULLED
his Ford 150 pickup into one of the few subdivisions in Paradise Pines. He didn't care for the sameness of the homes, the sense of being one of many. But no doubt more would follow; few could afford to build on their own these days.

He found his destination and parked under the shade of an old oak tree. Climbing from the truck, he admired the view.

What a lovely picture mother and child made fussing in their small front yard. Faith pranced around in black pants and tiny black boots, her long-sleeved sweater in trademark pink, and two pink polka-dot ribbons tamed her dark hair into ponytails. In contrast her mother wore a faded University of Phoenix sweater shirt and torn jeans. A piece of the same polka-dot ribbon attempted—and failed—to contain the mass of sleek auburn tresses. Beautiful, both of them.

When he reached the driveway, and picket fence, he came to a dead stop, his heart stuttering as he viewed the yard in the full light of day. Here was a
surprise and an unexpected delight. She'd created a garden fit for a princess.

Borders of verbena in waves of lavender to deep purple framed a lawn still green and lush for this late in the year. Slate pavers led the way to the corner away from the driveway and the shade of the house to a water fountain topped by a fairy happily gurgling amidst gladioli, towering black-eyed Susans, and some hearty and cheerful dahlias. Between the house and the water feature, a bougainvillea bower sheltered a patio swing.

Lovely, fanciful and full of color, perfect for a three-year-old. And for Dani it was an obvious labor of love.

Now he understood Gram's question. He did admire a woman who knew her way around a garden.

“There, how does that look?” Dani adjusted the medium-size pumpkin on the porch a smidge to the left. She looked over her shoulder at Faith. “What do you think?”

Faith jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “We got the bestest pumpkins ever.”

“The best,” Dani corrected as she stood back and surveyed the results of their efforts.

“Yep, the bestest.”

Dani laughed, wrapped her arms around her baby and kissed the top of her head. Then she admired their work. They stood in the small yard facing the shallow porch that ran half the length of the house.

On the ground and first step were seven apple-size pumpkins with rosy cheeks, big red noses and soft felt caps. On the porch the medium-size pumpkin also had rosy cheeks, a smaller nose formed by the pumpkin itself, and wore a black wig, banded in red. Around the base was a high white collar. Eight pumpkins in all.

“Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, not your usual Halloween jack-o'-lantern, but effective,” he drawled.

“Cole!” Faith broke free and ran toward him.

He reached over the picket fence and snatched her into his arms.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, all smiles.

“Good question.” Dani strolled over to release the catch on the gate.

He shifted Faith to pull an envelope from a pocket in his black leather jacket. “Pictures from Saturday.”

“Right. Come on in.” She waved at the pumpkins. “You like the pumpkins?”

“Original. I see you used paint instead of carving.”

“I got the idea from one of the craft booths at Sullivan's on Saturday. A paintbrush is a lot less dangerous than a knife when working with a three-year-old.” She held out her hand. “Can I see the pictures?”

“Sure.” He handed them over.

“We're having a picnic in the yard,” Faith said from her perch in Cole's arms. “You want to picnic, too?”

“Oh, well.” He looked at Dani. “Don't you think we should ask your mom first?”

A small frown pulled her little brows together. “She might say no.”

He arched an eyebrow at Dani.

She stood, hands on her hips, surveying the two of them. A soft blush colored her cheeks, but was it due to pleasure, annoyance, or just the chill in the air?

He waited, realizing he'd hoped for such an invitation. But he didn't flirt, didn't flash his crooked grin—it just felt wrong. He couldn't be casual with these two; they'd lost too much, known too much hurt for a carefree relationship.

Dani deserved respect, Faith protection. Actually they deserved a whole lot more. And for the first time, he wasn't running in the other direction.

“You're welcome on one condition: no political talk at the picnic.”

Now he grinned. “Sold. I don't care if we never talk politics.” There was the Lord's honest truth. He detested the fact his was the voice opposing hers. Which reminded him he still needed to invite her to participate in the debate. Tough. It could wait until after the picnic.

She cocked her head, probed him with eyes steady and clear. “You almost say that like you mean it.”

“I do. Politics have never been my thing. Politicians want everyone to love them, and to have that you have to please people. The problem is when you try to please too many people, you end up pleasing no one.”

“Yeah, that's politics all right. But we're not talking politics right now. We're having a picnic.”

“Picnic, yeah!” Faith called from high in Cole's arms. “Can I have a cookie, Mommy?”

“After you eat your sandwich, yes.”

“Can I have two cookies?”

Laughing gray eyes met his as Dani reached for her daughter. “There's my little bargainer. I think we need to save some cookies for your guest, don't you?”

“You made lots of cookies, Mommy. Cole can have two, too.”

“Let's have our sandwiches first.” Dani led the way inside the house.

Though small, the open floor plan made the most of the living room, dining room and kitchen combo. Cole admired the color scheme of amber and brown with bursts of red. It suited her, solid and calm with passionate depths.

He watched her put the picnic together with Faith's help and soon they were returning outdoors, the backyard this time. Here Dani kept it simple, a green expanse of lawn off a covered patio. A few potted plants provided interest.

Faith raced to a play set with a swing and a slide. She climbed on to a swing.

The front was a place to dream, the back a place to play. Both were evidence of Dani's total devotion to her daughter. She mourned the loss of her husband, Faith's father, worried she wasn't doing enough, but she shouldn't fear. Love lived in this house, in this yard. And she was stronger than she thought.

“Push me, Cole,” Faith demanded.

“Faith,” Dani admonished.

“Please, Cole, will you push me?”

“Better.” Dani bypassed the table on the patio to spread a blanket on the grass. She glanced at him. “Do you mind pushing her? I want to throw together a couple of more sandwiches. Do you prefer turkey or tuna?”

“Turkey.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket and slung it over a patio chair. “And I was already on my way.”

“Thanks.” Her gray gaze caressed her daughter before returning to him. “I'll save you in a few minutes.”

“Hey, Faith's my girl. Take your time.”

Already turning to head into the kitchen, she stopped and shook a finger at him. “Not funny.”

He laughed and winked, and then went to push the princess.

Dani was such a good mother that watching her and Faith together sometimes made his throat tighten and his heart constrict. Dani made him remember
how it felt to be loved, which threw him, because he was a man with a lot of love in his life.

He knew from Samantha that two years had passed since Dani lost her husband. But from the way she had closed the door on him the other night clearly she wasn't ready for a new relationship. Plus he saw how it hurt her to see Faith seeking a daddy figure.

Then again, Dani didn't kiss like a woman clinging to the ghost of her husband.

Maybe the two weren't related. More than once Dani had mentioned difficulties in making decisions. If she was overanalyzing every thought and deed, then he could see the problem.

It was one thing to accept the natural process of moving on with your life, and another to consciously decide to put the man you loved, the father of your child, behind you so you could find happiness with someone new. Especially when your daughter had already made the leap and you were trying to hold on to his memory for her.

Stepping behind Faith, he gave her a big push, smiling when she shrieked with joy.

“Higher,” she called, lifting her face to the wind she created with each pass of the swing.

No complications or communication problems here. The daughter knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to ask for it.

Maybe he and Dani should take a lesson from Faith, and go after what they wanted.

What they wanted?

Was he crazy? Was he suddenly thinking of picket fences and ready-made families? Exactly when had he gone off his rocker?

And why wasn't he headed for the nearest exit?

All he knew was being here felt right. The constriction around his heart filled him with a warmth he wasn't ready to let go of.

 

Her gaze on the view out the kitchen window, Dani slathered mayo on bread and then layered on turkey, lettuce and tomatoes.

She found it hard to believe Cole Sullivan was in her backyard. They were worlds apart, yet there he stood, patiently pushing her daughter on the swing. Not once had he looked up to see if she'd finished and would soon rescue him.

Her and her bright ideas. What was she supposed to talk to him about now that she'd forbidden discussion of the election and all things political?

She laughed to herself. Who was she kidding? Through the window she heard Faith chattering away. Dani and Cole would be lucky to get a word in edgewise.

Watching man and child, she experienced the oddest feeling of tranquility. He appeared to genuinely enjoy Faith's company and Faith thrived under his attention.

Even as Dani worried about his presence building up unrealistic expectations in Faith, Cole kept slipping past Dani's guard.

His potential to hurt Faith was huge. If Dani stopped and thought about it, no way would letting the two of them spend time together pass her exhausting decision-making process. Pretty much a given she'd say no.

So why was Dani skipping the process?

Hearing the trill of Faith's giggles, seeing the joy and animation on her little face, Dani had her answer.

Faith's happiness rated as Dani's number-one priority, and Cole made Faith happy. For the first time in a long time, Dani let that be enough. He'd proved he cared for Faith by adhering to Dani's ban of his company. And it hadn't really made a difference, except Faith got mad at Dani.

Until he betrayed the trust he'd earned, the ban was gone for good.

Of course life was never that easy, and Faith had her own agenda.

Once Dani had organized the food on the blanket, she leaned back on her hands and called out, “Food's ready.”

A moment later Cole carried an upside-down and protesting Faith toward the blanket.

“We can play again after we eat.” He told her as he set her on her feet next to the blanket.

“Promise?” she demanded.

“I promise.” He held up a hand as if swearing an oath, not that Faith understood what the gesture meant.

Still she nodded, happy to have his word. She plopped down next to Dani and leaned back on her hands, mimicking Dani. She grinned.

“I'm hungry. Can I have a cookie?”

“Uh.” Dani made a point of rolling her eyes. “What do you think?”

Faith sighed. “I think I have to eat my sandwich first.”

“That's right.”

They both looked up to see a home-baked chocolate-chip cookie disappearing into Cole's mouth. He froze, got a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on his face.

“Sorry,” he said around a mouthful of cookie.

“Uh-oh, Mommy.” Faith giggled. “Cole was bad.”

“Cole is company. He doesn't know our rules. We'll cut him some slack this time.”

He swallowed. “Thanks.”

The three of them dug into the sandwiches and fruit, making their way to the cookies. Dani expected the conversation to be stilted; instead she laughed more than she had in forever.

Faith's latest thing was knock-knock jokes. She brought a new one home from preschool every time she went. Of course she often got them wrong. Which didn't matter, as Cole, being the next best thing to a kid himself, knew them all and more. They played off each other perfectly. And when she went off on
a story or two about her classmates, Cole listened intently and asked all the right questions.

At some point Faith climbed into Cole's lap. Dani should have been expecting it, but the fun they were having distracted her.

“Cole.” Faith tipped back her head to look up at him. “Do you ever want to be a daddy?”

His dark eyebrows flew up and his gaze collided with Dani's. She blinked and offered a small shrug. If he meant to hang around, he'd better be ready for the tough questions.

His innate charm saved him. “It seems to me your mama already has the best little girl ever, but someday I'll have kids.”

She sighed.

“I hope you'll be their friend.”

That perked her up. “I want to be their friend. You will be the bestest daddy ever.”

“I'm going to try.” His long, blunt fingers dug into her ribs, tickling her. Laughing, she wiggled this way then that, trying to escape his fingers.

“Didn't you have some drawings you wanted to show me?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She hopped to her feet. “They're beau-ti-ful.” She swung to Dani. “Mommy, can I show him my pictures.”

Faith loved to draw and Dani hung all her pictures on a bulletin board in her bedroom. Not one of the drawings made sense without Faith's interpretation, but Dani loved them anyway. She knew the mess
Faith would make taking down the pictures, but shrugged.

“Sure, baby. Be careful not to tear them.”