Free Ring of Fire by Susan Fox Page A

with the dishes, perhaps we’ll excuse Jayden tonight. I know he has homework to do.”
    Lark shot her a surprised look, but said, “Fine.”
    After the boy had left, using a walker, and Mary had followed him, Lark stood and stacked plates. “It’ll be faster this way. Jayden’s painfully slow, but it’s important that he learn life skills and that he believe he’s pulling his weight.”
    Eric took the remaining dishes from the table and brought them to her at the sink, admiring her curves in the snug red top and black pants. “I was raised the same way. We were a military family, and we all had our duties.”
    â€œOne of your parents was a soldier, too?” She began to rinse plates, handing them to him to place in the dishwasher.
    â€œMy dad, and he still is.”
    The closeness of her body and the occasional brush of their fingers sent a hum of arousal through his blood, making it difficult to concentrate on the conversation. “He went into the army as a teenager,” he told her. “You can retire with a pension at various points, like after twenty or twenty-five years’ service, but he’s a career soldier. He’s fifty-eight now, and compulsory retirement is at age sixty.”
    Finished with the plates, she brought the serving dishes from the table. “What will he do then? Hang around and bug your mother?”
    â€œCan’t imagine that.” Just trying to, he gave a snort of laughter. “Can’t imagine Dad taking up golf or some other hobby either. My bet is he’ll volunteer with a veterans’ organization.”
    â€œHmm.” She scooped leftover lasagna into a storage container. “You take after him?”
    â€œYes, and no. The career soldier part, yes. But I don’t plan on marrying or having kids.”
    â€œNo?” Lark closed the fridge door and gazed at him. “You sound very definite.”
    She hadn’t phrased it as a question, but he knew it was. The answer was no big secret. “I am. Growing up as an army brat, I saw how tough the military life was on the stay-at-home spouse and the kids. I don’t think it’s fair on them.” Fortunately, he’d never met a woman who even tempted him to rethink the decision he’d made as a teen when he planned his future.
    She put the lasagna pan in the sink, squirted detergent on it, and ran hot water. “I see your point. Serving your country is a wonderful thing to do. But I do believe that if you have kids, they should come first. And that caregiving should be shared, not left to one parent.”
    Not for the first time, he wondered what had happened to the man who had fathered Jayden. “Agreed.”
    â€œDo you have siblings?”
    â€œA younger sister, Quinn.” She was his opposite in many ways, as unfocused about her life as he was focused. He’d spent much of his life helping her out of jams, but he loved her and would do anything for her.
    â€œFeel like a cup of coffee, or shall we finish off the wine?”
    â€œYou’re taking the night off, and I’m on foot.” On foot . Every time he used that expression, he thought how true it was. Foot, not feet. One foot; one prosthetic limb. “Let’s drink wine.” He gathered that she drank rarely, and the same was true for him. A beer now and then. The last time he’d had wine was at that dinner with his parents.
    Lark took two fresh glasses from the cupboard, collected the wine bottle, and led him into the family room. He was happy to hang back a few steps, enjoying the rear view of her in that skimpy red top and the figure-hugging pants.
    The family room was homey, with a couch and a couple of upholstered chairs, a small gas fireplace, bookcases full of books and games, some attractive First Nations art on the walls, and a box overflowing with LEGO fire trucks and firefighters. Despite all the evidence of Lark’s family, neither