Free Mom in the Middle by Mae Nunn Page B

a chaperone in public during broad daylight. So why did she feel so hesitant, still edgy about Guy’s intentions?
    â€œHead toward that big rock for about ten minutes.” She pointed in the distance to a landmark her dad had taught her to use for navigation. “There’s a little cove off to the left. It used to be a perfect spot for white crappy. They’re powerful little fighters, fun to catch and release.”
    He throttled forward and the craft planed out, skimming across the glassy surface that was made to order, reflecting the brilliant blue Texas sky. She slumped down, leaned her head back against the leather seat and offered up a prayer of thanks, lightly tinged with guilt. There was so much that needed to be done for Dillon and her school kids, so many things to worry about where her parents were concerned. And here she was taking the afternoon off like she hadn’t a care in the world.
    A favorite Bible verse crept into her mind. In the Gospel of Matthew, Christ personally admonished that worry wouldn’t add a single hour to life, and that tomorrow would worry about itself. So, for the moment she’d relax and let her cares be blown by the wind that had her hair flapping like the wings of a hummingbird. She reached up to clutch her curls into submission.
    A warm hand closed around her fingers. She jerked free from the unexpected touch and instantly regretted her reaction. It was the first personal contact she’d felt from a man since the morning at the base when she’d held Phillip for the final time.
    â€œSorry I startled you,” Guy apologized, his eyes conveying the same message. “But don’t do that. Casey is forever trying to squash her hair into a clip or a ponytail. The truth is curls like you two have are meant to be free so they can be admired.”
    A glint of mischief sparked in his eyes as she dropped her hands to her lap.
    â€œMay I?” He hesitantly reached toward her, indicating he wanted to smooth her hair.
    He’d been nothing but a gentleman for weeks. Always supportive, willing to help, never asking for anything in return. In good conscience, how could she still be suspicious? Wouldn’t it be wrong to continue to hold his financial and personal status against him, basically what she’d been doing since she’d discovered his identity?
    â€œSure,” she agreed. With his right hand he reduced the speed to a safe cruise in open water then with his left he sifted curls through his fingers. Once, then twice. The second time he lightly brushed her scalp. She tingled from the outside in.
    It took half a nanosecond to realize that letting him touch her was a big mistake.
    I’m pathetic.
    â€œYou’re incredible.”
    Certain he was teasing, she searched his face for humor but saw only appreciation in his azure-blue eyes.
    â€œI have to agree with my daddy, you’re a very kind man, Guy Hardy.”
    â€œShorty actually said that?” It was Guy’s turn to look suspicious, and with just cause. Praise from her parents was more precious than plutonium and harder to come by.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAbout me?”
    Yes, about you.” She couldn’t help smiling at his disbelief.
    â€œI admit hearing Shorty feels that way means a lot, but I didn’t compliment you out of kindness. Abby—”
    Her face warmed with embarrassment. She waved away his words but he caught her hand, determined to finish what he’d started.
    â€œAbby, while there’s no doubt you’re a beautiful woman, it’s your gift of spirit that makes you so attractive. My sisters are a generous bunch and I love them to distraction. But you may be the most selfless and giving young lady I know.”
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    He watched her stare for several long moments, her eyes gleaming, puzzled. As with the first day they met, she seemed reluctant to accept, much less believe, she deserved the kind words. Her gaze fell to their