Dipping In A Toe by Linda Carroll-Bradd Page A

paralegal job, keeping up the house, managing the kids’ activities, and arranging visits with their grandparents? How could I possibly add dating to this hectic lifestyle?
    Even if by some wild chance the man in question were to show interest…
    “Hey, Jessa, you setting a new fashion trend?” With a laugh, dark-haired Susanne Clark stood and waved a hand at her faded denim cutoffs and polo shirt advertising her kids’ school. “Trying to make the rest of us look bad?”
    “Of course not.” A tinge of embarrassment settled over my thoughts. Maybe I had gone too far with a half-dozen, silver bangle bracelets and big hoop earrings. I tossed the thick towel on the metal bench two rows up and sat, settling my purse between my feet. “After the meet, I’m taking the kids to visit with Dylan’s folks.”
    Christy placed a hand on my arm, her brows pulled into a scowl. “But you’re coming to the pizza party? I’ve been looking forward to a long catching-up talk.”
    “Are you kidding? The kids look at the party as their just reward for a season well done.” Plus I had no compunction about using the team party as a perfect excuse to put a limit on the time spent with the elderly Langdons.
    A person could listen to her late husband idealized for only so long. The man had his flaws, some worse than others, but not according to his parents. Plus they expected my active kids to sit in a living room that looked more like a designer showcase and not disturb a single knick-knack or collectible. Visits with my former in-laws were best endured when kept short.
    Not to mention, I couldn’t deny the wish to see Rick in a social setting. Maybe we’d find we had similar interests or even engage in a bit of flirty conversation. I flashed my friend a smile. “We’re all looking forward to the event.”
    For the next two hours, I focused my concentration where it belonged—on my children. I watched with heart in mouth as they stood on the pool deck, poised to dive into their assigned lanes, silently urging them to just do their best. That’s all I really wanted for them—and from them.
    Unable to stop myself, I held my breath until they’d stroked through the churning water and safely put a hand on the concrete lip of the opposite side. Their father may have lived with a devil-may-care attitude, always pushing them to challenge themselves. But he wasn’t here any longer, and the widow part of me saw danger in everyday events. A response they both resisted, most vocally, and I tried my best to repress.
    Sadie’s last race was over and she sat on the deck, wrapped in her seashell-printed towel, whispering and giggling with Christy’s daughter, Noelle. Sadie—my sweet, happy angel who still loved me to cuddle up beside her to say goodnight. If only I could keep her like this…
    An elbow jabbed my side, and Christy leaned close and pointed at the pool. “Erick and Adam are up next. Think they have a chance?”
    “Erick’s got a year on Adam, but Adam’s improved so much these last couple of weeks.” In my mind, I gave a big part of the credit to Rick for his devoted training. My gaze drifted to the handsome man walking behind each contestant, checking their foot positions at the edge of the pool. Because I paid attention, I noticed him leaning close and whispering to each of his team members. Last words of encouragement—or challenge.
    When he reached Adam, I imagined myself in my son’s position with Rick leaning in close. Whispered words, warm breath on my cheek, scent of heated male skin—how I’d missed the closeness of a man. A longing pulled in my belly, and I squirmed on the bench.
    The starting beep sounded over the loudspeaker and my attention jerked back to the pool. Adam’s sinewy arms chopped the water of the third lane and his strong legs created a shimmery wake. He passed a couple of swimmers, his strokes coming faster and his speed increasing.
    “Look at that.” Heart pounding, I jumped to my