Project: Parenthood

‘Not for as long as you have these three, you’re not.’

Well, thank you, Brendan, for stating the obvious. She scowled at his back as he finished jacking up the car and reached for the wrench. ‘No, the busy part is still there. This wasn’t a booked visit.’

His voice came out with a slight grunt as he worked on the first wheelnut. ‘How are you going to manage, then? Will your husband help?’

Subtle one.

‘I’m too busy with my career for a husband.’

‘You must be doing great in work, then.’

‘As a matter of fact I am. Thanks.’ Her scowl promoted itself to a frown.

He nodded as he freed the last nut and wrenched the tyre off. ‘Well, good for you.’

If she’d been a dog she’d have growled at him. In the space of a few sentences he’d made her feel as if the years since she’d parted company with him had been achievement-free. Just because his goals were different from hers, it didn’t mean hers were any less fulfilling!

After all, she owned her house—along with the bank. She almost completely owned her car. Her bank balance was healthy enough to allow a shopping spree at least once a month, and she paid every one of her bills before the ink turned red. She thought she was doing pretty well for someone her age.

Who was he to waltz in and criticise?

‘I suppose you’re moving a nice wee wife and twelve kids in across the road, then?’

He rose and turned round, lifting the spare tyre with one hand as he grinned at her. ‘Nope. Just me.’

Damn it, he’d caught her, hadn’t he? He hadn’t been trying to criticise her life; he’d been fishing for information. And he’d got it. And now he was grinning at her with a sparkle in his eyes that said, Gotcha.

Teagan shook her head with a small smile of resignation. She should have remembered how smart he was. Lord alone knew she was remembering plenty of other things while he kept on looking at her like that.

Still grinning, he turned round and popped the tyre into place, then reached a large hand out for the nuts. ‘I could help if you’re stuck.’

Like hell. ‘I can manage. Thanks.’

‘Well, if you’re stuck.’ He tightened the last nuts and then stood up, wiping his hands carelessly along the sides of his jeans before he lifted the flat. As he walked past her he glanced from the corner of his eye. ‘I’m great with kids. I have dozens of nieces and nephews, so I’ve had loads of practice.’

Well, bully for him. Though for the briefest moment she allowed herself to wonder why he hadn’t had any of his own. What had happened to his great plan for life? But she couldn’t wonder about that kind of thing. Because wondering would lead to questioning. And questioning would lead to a friendship of some kind. Which would be a massive mistake.

She was mature enough to know that now.

‘Thanks.’ She straightened her hair again, then glanced at her watch as he stowed away the tyre. ‘But, really, we’ll be fine.’

Brendan closed the boot and studied her for a long time, his dark blond lashes blinking slowly. Then he merely shrugged his broad shoulders and pushed his hands into his pockets. ‘Well, you know where I am.’

Indeed she did. But she would need to be in critical condition before she’d follow the broad shoulders that swayed as he walked back across the road.

C-r-i-t-i-c-a-l.

CHAPTER TWO

CRITICAL didn’t kick in until just before she was due to leave the office to collect the children. That was when she got word that the meeting with potentially her biggest ever clients had been brought up a few days, and she had a presentation that wasn’t even halfway done.

The headache started then.

At the daycare centre no amount of pleading or bribery would get the children booked in again. They were full to the gills as it was, and it was only because one family had been on holiday that they’d had space for one day.

Her head was pounding by the time she got to the local supermarket.

‘I want fish fingers!’

‘No, chicken nuggets!

‘Fish fingers!’

‘Nuggets!’

‘If you two don’t stop this minute you’re both getting cauliflower and nothing else.’ She negotiated her way around an end-of-aisle display, missing toppling a pyramid of washing powder boxes by inches.

She’d had dozens of trollies to pick from, and had still managed to pick the one with the dodgy wheel. Someone somewhere really had it in for her.

Katie pulled a face. Teagan stopped the trolley at the top of the cereal aisle and raised an eyebrow at her. ‘You don’t love cauliflower, Katie?’

The five-year-old held her arms around her waist and pretended to gag. Which made Teagan laugh. She was better laughing, she guessed. Otherwise she would have to stand and weep in public.

‘Fish fingers.’ Katie nodded furiously, then took a moment to think and added, ‘Please?’

‘Please certainly helps.’ Teagan began to push the trolley again. ‘Tell you what, let’s do cereal first, and then we can decide what we’re having for dinner.’

It was after nearly fifteen minutes of debate on nutritional value versus free gift in box when Brendan appeared around the corner with a basket.

‘Aw, hell.’ Teagan looked down at Meghan’s smiling face.

‘You said a bad thing!’

‘I’m sorry, Katie.’ She pinned a smile on her face as Brendan approached. ‘Hello, again.’

‘I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you think.’

The thought had occurred. ‘It’s the closest supermarket.’

Katie tugged on his arm. ‘You fixed the wheel, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, that was me.’ He hunkered down and smiled broadly at her. ‘You getting cereal? I like those ones too.’

‘You get a book with them.’ Katie hugged the box.

‘And about a zillion preservatives,’ Teagan cut in.

‘They’ll help her live longer.’