Free Twice the Trouble by Sandra Dailey Page A

After all, attention from a man wasn’t the only thing that had been missing from her life.
    Would she feel so shy of his advances if she hadn’t aged thirteen years and given birth to twins? Probably not, but the last time they’d seen each other she’d been a sweet and innocent seventeen-year-old. Now, gravity was beginning to be her enemy and there were little stretch marks on her body here and there. She still weighed the same, but it had redistributed a little. To put it simply, her size three jeans were only a memory.
    It had been so long since she’d felt his touch. His hand on her today had nearly sent her into ecstasy. And then he’d stopped so suddenly. She must not have felt like the girl he’d known before. She had certainly felt the same. No, better, stronger, more sensual, if only for a moment.
    She warmed a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes from breakfast. They were waiting on the table when Alex came in wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of pale blue boxers. Wow! Forget blue jeans vs. business suit, this was his best look yet. Even his feet were sexy, strong and masculine, and yet smooth with nicely trimmed nails.
    “Is it okay that I’m barefoot?”
    Lacey realized she was still staring at his feet. Since when had she developed a fetish for men’s feet?
    “Oh, yes, yes they’re perfect, I mean it’s perfect…ly fine, perfectly fine.” Lacey groaned. Could she sound any more like a moron? The wide smile that spread across Alex’s face told her, no. When his eyes landed on the plate of food, they widened as well.
    “Is this for me, I hope?” Not waiting for an answer, he slid the cup and plate to the other side of the table and sat.
    “Is there a reason you need to put your back to the wall?” Lacey asked. “Are we expecting gangsters with machineguns? Are you wanted by the cops? Should I grab my shotgun and keep you covered?”
    “It’s just a habit.” Alex tucked his left hand under the table and picked up his fork with the right.
    Lacey watched him eat for a few minutes. She was at a loss for words. His insecurity regarding his scarred arm wasn’t necessary. Maybe it was time to point out the elephant in the room. She gathered her courage. “It must be exhausting to always hide your arm that way. Why do you bother? If people can’t accept you the way you are, to hell with them.”
    Alex froze with the last bite of his food halfway to his mouth. He sat his fork down and looked at her with narrowed eyes. Maybe she’d made a mistake.
    “Have you ever had a date leave in the middle of dinner because your sleeve drew up? Have you ever had kids whisper behind your back and the only words you could make out were gross, and monster, and Freddy Kruger?”
    A hot flush crept up her neck, not from embarrassment, but from anger. Was he accusing her of being like that? He was the one who’d cut their interlude short.
    “Women like me don’t get asked out on dates. We get plenty of other offers, but not for anything that can be done in public. And yes, people whisper behind my back, but they’re not kids. The words I can usually make out are whore, and slut. Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
    Alex was shocked. “Is that why you don’t go to church with the kids?”
    “What do you think?” she answered. “I want my kids to be able to hang out with their friends and be a part of the community without having to hear what the gossips have to say about their mother. For some reason, it’s only a problem when I’m there.”
    Alex wondered if that was true, or if that’s what the kids led her to believe. One thing he was certain of, no one would talk about her like that in his presence. He took her hand. “Those are just a few small minded old biddies. No one that matters would say something like that about you.”
    “Oh really? Does that include your mother?” Lacey jerked her hand away. “Why do you think I didn’t get your address from her all those