just be assuming the worst based on what she remembered about his brothers.
"I worry about the kids," she said. "What if they hate it here?"
"We both liked it when we were their ages."
"That was a long time ago. Kids have changed."
"Not that much," he said. "Times have changed. It's tough now. There are more ways for a child to screw up his life than there used to be, but your children know right from wrong. I don't think you have to worry."
"Lindsay still hasn't forgiven me for moving her here." Sandy leaned her head against the railing. "She's so confused."
"She's not the only one," he muttered.
Sandy chuckled. "Did she give you any trouble tonight?"
"Not exactly. It wasn't what she said, it was more her expectations." He shuddered. "I didn't dare let her sit next to me at the movie."
Her chuckle turned into a laugh. "Poor Kyle, afraid of a twelve-year-old girl."
"It's easy for you to think this is funny. I'm the one trying to tap-dance around her feelings. I don't want to encourage her, and I don't want to hurt her. It's not easy."
Sandy sobered. "I appreciate your effort. I'll have a talk with her."
"With my luck, she won't listen."
"Children rarely do."
"Great." He leaned back and studied her profile. The sun had slipped below the horizon and the sky grew darker. Light from the house spilled out onto the porch. He could see the straight line of her small nose, the outline of her full mouth, the slight point of her stubborn chin. He'd always thought she was beautiful. That hadn't changed.
"The problem is," he said conversationally, never taking his gaze from her. "You work too hard and you've forgotten how to have fun."
Instantly she stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You expect too much of the kids. It's summer. They should be outside playing, not washing walls and painting."
She glared at him. "So I should do all the work?"
"That's not what I said. But you must admit you don't get out much."
"I want to know where you get off telling me what I should and shouldn't do with my children. You've known them for less than three weeks, Mr. Haynes, so I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself."
"Blake thinks his father didn't like him."
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She stared at him mutely, then rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. "Damn."
"I shouldn't have said it like that."
"No, it's okay. I'd rather know. I've been afraid of that. Thomas wasn't very subtle when he was annoyed. I know he loved his children, but he wasn't always the greatest father." She raised her head and pushed her hair out of her face. "Thanks for telling me. I'll talk to him. Did he say anything else?"
Kyle shook his head. "That was about it. I had a good time with them tonight, except for Lindsay's problem, but I'm hoping she'll outgrow it. I wouldn't mind taking them out again."
"Why?"
"I like kids. I always have."
"So have a couple dozen of your own."
He shook his head. "It's not going to happen. I'm not the type." He couldn't risk it. He couldn't risk giving his heart to someone who was going to leave.
Sandy straightened. "I don't want them confused. You're not their father or stepfather."
"Can't I just be some guy they like?"
"I suppose." She didn't sound very enthusiastic about the idea.
"Is it because you don't trust me?"
"No, it's… I can't explain it."
"They haven't had a man in their lives since Thomas died. For that matter, neither have you."
"That's none of your business."
"I never said it was , I was just pointing out a fact."
She turned toward him. Her mouth pulled straight. "Are you so sure of your facts?" she asked, obviously irritated.
He stared at her for a long time, first studying her face, then glancing at her body. She tilted up her chin slightly, but otherwise didn't move. "I'm pretty sure, but I wouldn't mind being the one to change things."
"You have a lot of nerve, mister."
He grinned. "You're not the first one to accuse me of that. Come on,
"I worry about the kids," she said. "What if they hate it here?"
"We both liked it when we were their ages."
"That was a long time ago. Kids have changed."
"Not that much," he said. "Times have changed. It's tough now. There are more ways for a child to screw up his life than there used to be, but your children know right from wrong. I don't think you have to worry."
"Lindsay still hasn't forgiven me for moving her here." Sandy leaned her head against the railing. "She's so confused."
"She's not the only one," he muttered.
Sandy chuckled. "Did she give you any trouble tonight?"
"Not exactly. It wasn't what she said, it was more her expectations." He shuddered. "I didn't dare let her sit next to me at the movie."
Her chuckle turned into a laugh. "Poor Kyle, afraid of a twelve-year-old girl."
"It's easy for you to think this is funny. I'm the one trying to tap-dance around her feelings. I don't want to encourage her, and I don't want to hurt her. It's not easy."
Sandy sobered. "I appreciate your effort. I'll have a talk with her."
"With my luck, she won't listen."
"Children rarely do."
"Great." He leaned back and studied her profile. The sun had slipped below the horizon and the sky grew darker. Light from the house spilled out onto the porch. He could see the straight line of her small nose, the outline of her full mouth, the slight point of her stubborn chin. He'd always thought she was beautiful. That hadn't changed.
"The problem is," he said conversationally, never taking his gaze from her. "You work too hard and you've forgotten how to have fun."
Instantly she stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You expect too much of the kids. It's summer. They should be outside playing, not washing walls and painting."
She glared at him. "So I should do all the work?"
"That's not what I said. But you must admit you don't get out much."
"I want to know where you get off telling me what I should and shouldn't do with my children. You've known them for less than three weeks, Mr. Haynes, so I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself."
"Blake thinks his father didn't like him."
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She stared at him mutely, then rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. "Damn."
"I shouldn't have said it like that."
"No, it's okay. I'd rather know. I've been afraid of that. Thomas wasn't very subtle when he was annoyed. I know he loved his children, but he wasn't always the greatest father." She raised her head and pushed her hair out of her face. "Thanks for telling me. I'll talk to him. Did he say anything else?"
Kyle shook his head. "That was about it. I had a good time with them tonight, except for Lindsay's problem, but I'm hoping she'll outgrow it. I wouldn't mind taking them out again."
"Why?"
"I like kids. I always have."
"So have a couple dozen of your own."
He shook his head. "It's not going to happen. I'm not the type." He couldn't risk it. He couldn't risk giving his heart to someone who was going to leave.
Sandy straightened. "I don't want them confused. You're not their father or stepfather."
"Can't I just be some guy they like?"
"I suppose." She didn't sound very enthusiastic about the idea.
"Is it because you don't trust me?"
"No, it's… I can't explain it."
"They haven't had a man in their lives since Thomas died. For that matter, neither have you."
"That's none of your business."
"I never said it was , I was just pointing out a fact."
She turned toward him. Her mouth pulled straight. "Are you so sure of your facts?" she asked, obviously irritated.
He stared at her for a long time, first studying her face, then glancing at her body. She tilted up her chin slightly, but otherwise didn't move. "I'm pretty sure, but I wouldn't mind being the one to change things."
"You have a lot of nerve, mister."
He grinned. "You're not the first one to accuse me of that. Come on,