' "Mommy'''"
Or was it?
TARA TAYLOR QUINN
"Ash?" Jamie pushed away from her desk as the little girl scurried into the office, rubbing her eyes with a pudgy fist. "What's wrong, baby?"
The footed bottoms of her pajamas scraping along the carpet, Ashley covered the distance between them and crawled onto her mother's lap. "I waked up."
Stifling the grin that rose easily to her lips as she gazed at the earnest face of her young daughter, Jamie gathered the child close and gently rocked her back to sleep. But, holding the tender weight against her heart, she couldn't help wondering if she was waking up, too. From the wonderful dream world she'd created—back into the nightmare that was her life.
She couldn't let that happen. Not at any cost.
And certainly not for a man who, with a look, a smile, a couple of eloquent words, could make her forget.
Especially not for him.
"Professor Radcliff? Jamie Archer here." The heavy beating of her heart was due to the speed with which she'd made it from the garage to her office after dropping the girls off at school. Nothing more. With Karen's news still fresh in her mind the next morning, Jamie was in a hurry to immerse herself in business. Or so she told herself.
"Jamie!" The pleasure in his voice was unmistakable. "I didn't expect to hear from you so soon." He paused. "And what's this 'Professor' bit? I'm 'Kyle,' remember?"
HER SECRET, HIS CHILD
Yeah. She remembered. "I'm missing some receipts."
"Okay."
His voice cooled a bit. And Jamie hated herself for being disappointed.
"I'll see if I can find them. What do you need?"
Reading from the list she'd prepared before falling into bed early that morning, Jamie told him.
"I don't know if I even have all this stuff, but I can check this afternoon," he said. "Give me your address and I'll bring them by this evening."
"No!" Thinking only of Ashley, Jamie panicked. "I mean, um, I'll be out this evening." She paused. Swallowed. "Tomorrow's soon enough. I'll come to your office."
"Since you're going to be out, why don't you come here to pick up the receipts tonight?" he asked, sounding more cheerful. "I'll be home."
"That won't be necessary. Tomorrow at your office is fine."
"It's just that with some of this stuff, I'm not sure exactly what all you need. It might be better if you look things over yourself. It'll probably save you another trip."
Deforming a paper clip, Jamie blurted, "I might be out late."
"Doesn't matter. I'll be up grading essays, anyway."
It was hard to picture him as an English professor. She would have been much more comfortable if he'd turned out to be an ambulance-chasing lawyer or something.
TARA TAYLOR QUINN
' 'What kind of essays?'' She didn't want to know.
"We're doing an in-depth study of Clemens, his political and religious views."
"Huckleberry Finn." She'd loved the American-literature class she'd taken on Samuel Clemens, alias Mark Twain.
' 'And 'The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County.'"