Free Wish on the Moon by Karen Rose Smith

criticism if he
didn't.
    "Of course, I do. More than one." The
defensiveness in his voice irritated him.
    "And what do you do when you have them on?"
she probed with a sideways glance.
    "Wash the car, run errands, sketch."
    "That sounds like work to me," she scolded.
"What about roller skating, tobagonning, dancing, tag?"
    "Tag?" He zippered his leather jacket and
wondered if he was trying to insulate himself from the weather or
her interest.
    "Mandy loves when I chase her around the
yard, roll in the grass, jump in the leaves."
    He could see her and her daughter doing just
that. Uninhibited, playful, laughing. God! Had he ever felt like
that? Was this the part of Laura that called to him like the
Siren's ancient song? "Having a child around helps you relax."
    "I'd make time for it even if I didn't have
Mandy." She spared him another quick look. "You should try it."
    "I don't have time--"
    "Hogwash." She waved her hands and said
vehemently, "That's what my dad always said. And look where it got
him. You're still young enough to learn."
    Relaxing wasn't on his priority list.
Designing brought him pleasure, the business a sense of
achievement. He told himself he didn't need anything else. "You
can't teach an old dog new tricks."
    "Maybe not. But you can teach an old dog
different tricks. Besides, you're nowhere near being old."
    "Thirty-six isn't young."
    "Like you told your mother, you're only as
old as you think you are," she repeated smugly.
    He felt like he was trying to beat off a lion
with a toothpick. "Don't you miss anything?"
    Her smile was pure deviltry. "Not much.
C'mon. I'll race you to the front of the building."
    She sprinted off and left him standing. He
started after her and moments later overtook her, his legs pumping
easily, his arms swinging in cadence with his stride. When she
arrived at the portico, panting, he casually crossed one ankle over
the other, propped against the brick wall, and suppressed a grin.
"You fell a little behind."
    She leaned against the wall only a few inches
from him. "My poncho kept tangling in my legs."
    He clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Excuses, excuses."
    She wrinkled her nose at him and jabbed him
in the ribs with her elbow. "We did it for fun. Not to see who'd
win."
    She was so close, her hair mussed, her face
flushed. He was sure she'd look like this after making
love--glowing, vibrant, her hair jumbled from his fingers, her skin
pink and damp from kissing and arousal. Her breaths were still
coming fast. Her scent mingled with the night air and radiated from
her with the heat of their run.
    He turned toward her and propped his hand on
the wall above her shoulder. "Was it fun?"
    Her eyes dropped to his lips and her voice
was low. "Sure. The wind in my face, the release of energy, the
moon streaking through the leaves..."
    If he leaned any closer, their bodies would
touch. Desire stirred and pulsed its demand. When her tongue
sneaked out and wet her bottom lip, he almost groaned. Her pupils
were dark, almost overtaking the gray. If he merely touched her
cheek...
    Laura was afraid to move when Mitch's fingers
brushed her cheek. Every nerve vibrated and hot feelings blazed
through her. She forgot Mitch wasn't her type. She wanted him to
kiss her more than she wanted to breathe. She wanted to teach him
how to enjoy everyday pleasures, to look for excitement. She was
excited now. And scared. If a relationship developed between them,
it would be complicated by her father, Mitch's perceptions about
her, her six week stay. But it felt so good to be attracted to
Mitch, to experience the thrill of arousal, to want to touch a man
again and have him touch her.
    The sliding glass doors to the visitors'
entrance whirred open. Mitch stepped back and away. Laura's
disappointment plunged deep, shaking her. She was feeling too much,
too fast. She wasn't a teenager any longer, she was a rational
adult.
    So was Mitch. The problem was he acted like
it, she thought, as he pulled himself up