The Playboy & Plain Jane

“Thank you for asking. We won, of course,” she said, a hint of competitiveness glinting in her eyes.

“Of course,” he said. “Does that mean you never lose?”

“You have to be careful with the words ‘never’ and ‘always,’” she said, starting to undress Molly. “But we’ve been undefeated for three years. It’s a co-ed team, and the guys don’t hesitate to blast the women when we’re not aggressive enough.”

“And there’s no one guy who is significant to you?”

“They’re all special,” she said, bending down to test the water, then place Molly in the tub. “But to them I’m just one of the guys.”

“They can’t be that blind,” Nicholas said.

She looked at him and smiled. “That was very nice, thank you. Speaking of significant others, what about you?”

“Molly is the only significant female in my present and future,” he said, feeling a faint twist of bitterness when he thought of Molly’s mother.

“But what about your romantic future? Surely there’s someone who could be special to you.”

“Nothing long term,” Nicholas said. “I’m committed to keeping my relationships with women short term. I’m up-front about it, so there are no hard feelings.”

Gail gave a snort of disbelief. “Yeah, right,” she said as she washed Molly’s belly.

“You don’t believe me,” he said, oddly affronted by her response. “I’m completely clear about my intentions with a woman. No one is left wondering.”

“Maybe not wondering, but hoping,” she said, and rinsed Molly.

“Hoping for what?”

“Hoping you’ll fall madly in love with her,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hard-earned cynicism cut through him. “I’ll never fall madly in love with a woman again. There’s no such thing as a happy ending.”

Gail’s eyebrows knitted together as if she didn’t approve of his opinion but was holding her tongue. Nicholas suspected she found it difficult to hold her tongue when she had a strong opinion. She lifted Molly from the tub and wrapped her in a towel. In one smooth motion, she plopped his daughter in his arms. “I don’t know,” Gail mused aloud, glancing pointedly at Molly. “Looks to me like you got the winning hand this time.”

Nicholas looked into the innocent wide eyes of his squirmy, damp daughter and felt his heart expand with protectiveness and love. He smiled at Molly. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

Later that week Gail met Nicholas in the kitchen as he pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. His afternoon had been jam-packed with meetings to solve production problems. He was so tense his neck muscles felt like rubber bands pulled taut.

At her smile he felt the tension in him ease.

“Welcome home. I hate to jump you as soon as you walk in the door.”

His neck tightened again. “A problem?”

“Not really,” she said, lifting a picture frame she’d held by her side. “I just have a special request. I need a photograph of you.”

“Why?” he asked, taking a deep gulp of the water.

“To put in Molly’s room. You’re gone all day, and I think it would be good if she has a constant visual reminder of you even when you’re not here.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Something informal would be best.”

He nodded. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“And I need you to record a message to her.”

Nicholas looked at her in confusion. “Record a message?”

“Sure,” she said, moving closer to him and handing him the frame. “I got this today. It’s so cool. We put your photo in the frame and record a message, then every time you push this button, you get to hear the message. Molly will love it.”

The excitement in her voice amused and warmed him. “How do you know she won’t start crying every time she hears my voice?”

Gail tossed him a sideways glance. “Because she’s already warming up to you. And it’s so easy. You can go ahead and record your message now.”

“Now?” he said, drawing a complete blank. “What should I say?”

“Anything. You can sing part of a song. You can read from one of her favorite books. Or you can just tell her how special she is and how much you love her.”

The doorbell rang. Gail glanced at the clock. “Oh, that’ll be Jonathan. He’s a friend,” she said, answering his question before he voiced it. “He called and said he wanted to watch a basketball game with me. You said I could use the downstairs den in the evenings if I want to have friends over. Is that still okay?”

Not really, Nicholas thought. After his hectic day, he’d enjoyed the few moments of conversation with Gail. But it wasn’t fair to completely curtail her social life just because being with her had been as refreshing as the bottle of water. “Sure,” he said. “I’m headed upstairs soon, anyway.”

“So you can record your message and find a photo,” she hinted with a wide smile, then headed for the front door. “I want to put it on Molly’s dresser, so she can see it when she wakes up in the morning.”

“We’ll see,” he muttered as she opened the door.

A tall man in his late twenties swooped Gail up off her feet. “How long were you going to leave me out there in the cold? I was starting to wonder if I was at the wrong house.”

“Put me down, Jonathan. You’re just terrified you’ll miss the beginning of the game,” she said.

“There you go breaking my heart again,” he said, allowing her feet to slide to the floor. “I didn’t want to miss one minute with you.”

“You’re full of it,” she said, dismissing him. “The only reason you’re watching the game with me is because your buddies are busy.” She glanced over her shoulder and her gaze collided with Nicholas’s. “I’m sorry. I thought you had already left. Nicholas Barone, my boss,” she added in a meaningful tone for her guest’s benefit, “this is Jonathan O’Reilly. Jonathan is one of my volleyball teammates, and also one of my best friends, despite the fact that he takes the Irish flirting thing way too seriously.”

Jonathan shot her a brief glance of mock disapproval, then extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nicholas Barone. I’ve consumed a fair amount of your fine product over the years, and I’ve admired your company.”

“Thank you,” Nicholas said, liking and not liking the man at the same time. Gail might insist that Jonathan was her friend, but Nicholas had been around long enough to sense that Jonathan wanted more than friendship with her. He resented the ease with which the man touched Gail, which was stupid. As long as Gail did her job with Molly, he shouldn’t care about her relationships. “There’s beer in the fridge if you like.”

“Thanks. I don’t want to chase you out of your own den,” Gail said. “If you’d like to join us…”

Nicholas shook his head. “No, I have some reading to do.”

“And recording,” she reminded him with a smile.

“And recording. Good night,” he said to both of them, and climbed the stairs with an uncomfortable gnawing sensation in his gut. He heard the sound of Jonathan’s low voice, followed by Gail’s laughter, and stopped halfway up the stairs. Her laughter, robust and uninhibited, unintentionally sexy, sent a rush of shocking desire though him. Something about the sound of it was addictive, and it occurred to him that making Gail laugh could be like making her climax. The notion knocked him sideways, yet at the same time he knew it was true.

She laughed again, and the same sensation rolled through him. He frowned at his response. He couldn’t recall ever becoming aroused just from the sound of a woman’s laughter. Tamping down the strange but forceful urge to be the man to make her laugh, he climbed the rest of the stairs, but he didn’t resist the temptation to leave his bedroom door open so he could hear her laugh again.