Within Reach

They exchanged smiles.

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

“I will. Thanks.”

She watched as they walked away, Michael’s long stride easy despite the fact that Charlie was no lightweight. She was still smiling when she returned to her studio. Having them visit had somehow taken away the worst of her angst over the break-in. What had happened was shitty, but not insurmountable.

As for that awkward flash of sexual awareness… It had been nothing. A blip. An aberration. Thinking about it now, she felt a little stupid for having been so rattled. With the benefit of hindsight, the moment settled into its rightful place in the big scheme of things: unimportant and insignificant.

The way it should be.

* * *

THREE WEEKS LATER, MICHAEL rubbed the back of his neck as he waited at the lights. Life had been crazy lately, filled with interviews with prospective nannies—none of whom had been very impressive—as well as preparations for his first week at work. Today marked his third full day back in the saddle and he was feeling more than a little weary after two complicated client briefings and a series of phone calls that had prevented him from accomplishing anything substantial all afternoon. Just as well he’d arranged with his partners to work from home on Thursdays and Fridays—he was nowhere near match fit after so many months downtime. The lack of distraction in his home office would give him a chance to make up lost ground. Hopefully.

Despite his weariness and even though a part of him felt guilty for cutting short the year he’d intended to spend with the kids, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that returning to work was the best decision he’d made in a long time. It might have only been three days, but it was enough for him to know that Angie had been right—picking up the threads of his career had given him something to hold on to. It forced him to interact with the outside world, and it gave him things to occupy himself with that had nothing to do with Billie.

It gave him a chance to be a person again, and not simply a father and a grieving husband.

He hadn’t understood how much he’d needed that until today when he’d finished a phone call with a supplier and noticed that he’d gone a whole four hours without thinking of Billie once. Guilt had come hard on the heels of the realization, of course—but there had been relief, too.

It was exhausting living with the constant weight of grief on his shoulders.

The lights changed and he accelerated through the intersection, very aware of the need to relieve Mrs. Linton. He’d been fortunate enough to get Charlie into day care three days a week, but Mrs. Linton had saved his bacon, agreeing to pick up Eva from school and look after her until he could make a more permanent arrangement. Still, he didn’t want to abuse her generosity.

He swung by day care to collect Charlie, then headed home. A familiar green SUV was parked in front of his house when he pulled into the driveway. He smiled as he hit the button for the garage door. Angie had been busy putting her studio back together and they hadn’t seen much of her lately. It would be good to catch up with her. Good to assure himself that she was recovering okay from the break-in.

It would also give him a chance to hassle her about the rental listings he’d sent to her, too. He’d touched base with a handful of his real estate contacts and put the feelers out for a suitable studio space for her, determined to get her out of that death trap of a building. So far, her only response had been silence. If she thought that stonewalling him would make him give up, she didn’t know him very well.

He released Charlie from his car seat and locked the car. Michael could hear voices and laughter as they entered the house. He walk into the kitchen and found Angie and Eva putting toppings on three pizza bases.

“Hello,” he said.

They looked up with identical surprised expressions, obviously so involved in their conversation they hadn’t heard his arrival.

“Perfect timing. Dinner is almost ready,” Angie said.

Charlie immediately went to Angie, gazing up her worshipfully.

“Why, hello there, Charlie Bear,” she said, tapping his nose lightly.

She looked different. For a moment Michael was puzzled, then he realized it was because her hair was tucked high on her head in a ballet dancer’s bun. She was wearing her yoga gear, too—tight black leggings and a soft-looking pale pink top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows.

“Mrs. Linton left a note for you before she left. Something about having a doctor’s appointment next week,” Angie said.

“Right. Thanks.”

“Guess what we’re having for dinner, Daddy?” Eva asked.

“Could it possibly be pizza?”

“Yes! With the lot. I mean everything.”

“She’s not kidding on that one.” Angie cast a significant glance toward the pizza Eva was working on.

It was piled high with salami, cheese, tomato and mushrooms to the point where it looked more like a pie than a pizza.

“Check that out. Sure you don’t want to throw a chair or table on top of that thing, too?” he asked Eva, dropping a hand onto the back of her neck and squeezing lightly.

She tilted her head backward so she could look at him upside-down. “Which pizza do you think is the best?”

Michael pretended to consider the options. “I like the simplicity of this cheese-and-tomato one, which I’m guessing is for Charlie. And Angie’s is nice and colorful…”

Eva gave him a look, clearly knowing when she was being strung along. “Just admit it. Mine is the best,” she said with the unashamed egotism of a six-year-old.

“It does look pretty special.”

“Let’s put it on the top shelf so all the many, many layers will get a chance to cook through.” Angie slid the pizza onto a baking tray and turned toward the oven.

He followed her movements idly, not really paying attention, but when she bent to put the pizza in the oven his gaze slid down her slim spine to her backside, perfectly showcased in black Lycra.

He quickly looked away, but not before he’d noticed that Angie had a very nice ass.

He cleared his throat. “I might go change while those cook.”

“Sure,” Angie said.

He could feel heat in his face as he headed for the bedroom and he hoped like hell that she hadn’t noticed. He kicked his work shoes off with more force than was strictly necessary once he was in his room. He had no business noticing her ass. She was Billie’s best friend. Better yet, she was his friend. The shape and size of her ass was utterly irrelevant. Certainly it was of no interest to him.

No interest whatsoever.

Even if it was a very fine, very firm-looking ass.

Giving himself a firm mental shake, he concentrated on pulling on his jeans.

* * *

ANGIE CHECKED ON THE pizzas, then poured herself a glass of wine. She was glad she’d given in to the impulse to surprise Michael with dinner. Even though she hadn’t seen him much recently, she’d been very aware that this first week at work might be hard for him. He’d been on her mind a lot, and she’d wanted to let him know he wasn’t alone. Dinner wasn’t much, but it was something.

She glanced up when Michael returned wearing a pair of old jeans and a stretched-out T-shirt. He’d put on a bit of weight and it suited him. Made him look more like his old self.

She poured him a glass of wine. “So, how’s your first week as a born-again architect been?”

“Not too bad. If I can find a child-care solution that doesn’t involve me shamelessly exploiting Mrs. Linton, I think it’s doable.”

“Still no luck with finding a nanny?”

“Nope. I’ve got more interviews lined up on Friday, though.”