Free Storybook Dad (Harlequin American Romance) by Laura Bradford

silently cursed the way his tone softened at the mention of
his late wife, afraid that Emily would jump on the same apology bandwagon his
friends rode and pull him from the place he was at that moment....
    With Emily.
    “I guess that’s it. But as I try to tell her all the time,
sometimes plans change. And that doesn’t always have to be a bad thing,
right?”
    Silence enveloped them as they slipped into their own
thoughts—his about the events he hadn’t anticipated when he’d met and married
Sally, and hers about things he could only guess at.
    “Come and get it before it’s gone!” Joe bellowed from the
grill. “Got plenty of burgers and hot dogs for everyone. But if you snooze, be
prepared to lose, folks.”
    Despite the answering rumble of his stomach, Mark found himself
wishing for another moment or two alone with Emily. There was something about
her quiet confidence that made him feel alive—a feeling that had been sporadic
at best since Sally’s diagnosis, illness and subsequent funeral. Maybe part of
it was simply having the chance to talk about something other than his wife’s
death and how Seth was coping—subjects few of his friends seemed capable of
deviating from these days. More than that, though, was the growing attraction
Mark felt for the woman seated by his side. Stealing a glance in her direction,
he searched for a way to put a smile back on her face. “Hey, what do you say we
grab something to eat and have a rematch? And this time I’ll actually try .”
    Her eyes crackled to life. “Are you implying I only beat you
because you weren’t trying?”
    “I’m not implying that, I’m saying that,” he teased.
    “Oh, okay. But just so you know, you might want to go easy on
the trash talk, mister. Because if you don’t, you may find yourself eating way
more than one of Joe’s famous burgers by the time we’re done.”
    “You think so?”
    “I know so,” she quipped.
    Sure enough, two hamburgers, one corn on the cob, a hearty
helping of potato salad and three losses later, he collapsed onto the same
Adirondack chair he’d sat on earlier. Only this time, instead of stealing
glances at Emily and hesitating over which way the conversation should go, he
was interacting with her as if they’d known each other for years. She laughed at
his corny jokes, teased him about his less-than-stellar horseshoe skills and
smiled at him as if she was every bit as aware of the sparks flying between them
as he was. And it felt good. Undeniably good.
    All too soon, however, dusk gave way to darkness and Mark found
himself reluctantly conceding that it was time to call it a night. His hand
found the small of her back as they made their way around the side of the house
and headed toward her car. “Emily, I had a really great time tonight. I can’t
tell you the last time I did something like this. Except, of course, the other
night.”
    Her feet slowed as they approached the Jeep. “You were at a
barbecue the other night?”
    “No, I was at Sam’s. With you.” A nearby streetlamp cast an
alluring glow across her face, and he swallowed.
    “Then I don’t get it. Did something like what?”
    He looked to the sky, taking in the crystal-clear view of the
stars above. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself simply to breathe,
without traveling down the familiar road of should-haves and could-haves where
the past eighteen months were concerned. When he was ready, he allowed himself
to look at her again, noting the way her skirt clung to her ass in a sweet yet
flirty kind of way, and how the tops of her breasts peeked out along the upper
edge of her halter top.
    “Like have fun. Like laugh. Like… live .”
    Reaching out, he traced the side of her face with his
fingertips, drawing her in for a kiss that had his heart accelerating in a way
no pickup game of basketball ever could.

Chapter Seven
    If it weren’t for an approaching car, Emily could have
stayed in Mark’s arms all night, tasting his