Something About Joe by Kandy Shepherd

would ever want.
    She wasn’t sure what she wanted from
Joe.
    After Clive
left, she stood outside for a moment,
breathing in the cool evening air scented by the wisteria blooms
that hung from the veranda’s iron scrollwork.
    She took a
deep, calming breath, but nothing could stop the tripping and
fluttering of her heart.
    Y et what was the point of
yearning for Joe? Clive was right—her boss probably was the man for
her: he was secure in his job; he was from her world; and she
wouldn’t have to worry about money. As well, he was looking for
commitment. All those things were important to her.
    Joe,
compellingly attractive as he was, was at a different stage of
life—where his sole ambition was to play in his band. A wife and a
ready-made family were hardly what he’d be planning for. And she
wasn’t looking for a meaningless fling.
    Joe Martin
was not for her. While the thought of a fling with no future was
heart-stoppingly appealing, she knew she couldn’t live with herself
if she indulged in a sex-without-strings affair. Casual sex went
against everything she believed in—her religious upbringing, her
family beliefs. And, underlying everything, the knowledge of what
had happened to her mother. If her mother had been married to her
father, Allison’s life would have been very different.
    So why spend
so much time fantasizing about Joe? Why feel so pleased that Joe’s
feelings had been so obvious to Clive?
    She pushed
open the door. The lights were dimmed, and she could hear the low
murmur of the television in the living room. She slipped off her
high-heeled shoes, always conscious of waking Mitchell even in his
bedroom above, and went in.
    Joe lay
asleep on the sofa, illuminated by the flickering light from the
television. The baby monitor stood nearby on the coffee table, its
green “on” light glowing.
    Joe’s face in repose was even more handsome.
A thick fan of dark lashes rested on his cheek. His chin was
shadowed by a day’s growth and his firm lips were slightly parted.
He looked both vulnerable and strong at the same time.
    His long, hard body was sprawled across the
sofa in total relaxation, one arm flung above his head. The
powerful muscles of his chest moved up and down against the tight
fabric of his T-shirt as he breathed. His boots and socks lay where
he’d kicked them off. An empty can of Coke and three crumpled,
empty potato chip packs were scattered on the coffee table near the
monitor.
    Her heart
gave a painful twist inside her and a tremor of desire ran through
her. He was so handsome. And sexy. The sexiest man she’d ever
known. She wondered what it would be like to wake each morning to
see that face just kissing distance away. To watch his eyes open
and focus on her, to have him pull her to his naked
body...
    But it wasn’t only his physical perfection
that had her heart turning so painfully. She liked Joe Martin.
Really liked him. There was a strong, decent core to him she was
beginning to admire and to appreciate. He was the kind of man you
wanted on your side.
    She switched
off the television then padded softly toward the stairs. She could
stand and feast her eyes on Joe all night, but she had to check on
Mitchell.
    She went upstairs. Mitchell, too, lay
sprawled on his back in peaceful sleep.
    A wave of
love swept over her at the sight of her son’s innocent, sleeping
face. He’d kicked off his covers. She pulled them back over him,
gently tucking them around him.
    A wonderful feeling of contentment filled
her at the thought of the tiny man sleeping here, and the grown man
sleeping downstairs on her sofa.
    Somehow it seemed so right to have them both
with her.
    But it was a contentment that was fleeting,
an indulgence she allowed herself to hug to her heart for just
seconds. Mitchell was hers. Joe Martin was not.
    She went downstairs again.
    She perched on the edge of the sofa and allowed
herself the delicious luxury of watching Joe sleep.
    No matter
how many times she reminded