Free Must Like Kids by Jackie Braun Page B

“no.”
    “It’s a zoo around here,” Alec murmured.
    Before Julia had children of her own, she might have agreed with him. “It takes some getting used to,” she allowed. “For the record, though, that’s exactly the sort of comment you should not make in public.”
    “I don’t think I have to be worried about being overheard. I can barely hear myself think.” But he lowered his voice all the same.
    They made a loop of the park, circling past where a clown was transforming balloons into animal shapes. A little farther down, children were lined up to have their faces painted. When they reached the hot dog stand, Alec asked, “Want something to eat?”
    “It’s tempting since I didn’t have lunch, but I think I’ll pass.”
    “You haven’t eaten?” He frowned. “It’s after two o’clock.”
    The reminder was unnecessary. Julia’s empty stomach knew exactly what time it was. In fact, it had been protesting at nearly audible levels for the past couple of hours. “I’ll grab something before I pick up my kids from school.”
    “Does Colin have a T-ball game tonight?”
    “No, but Danielle has soccer at five-thirty.”
    He glanced up. While the sky directly overhead remained blue, purple-hued clouds were crowding in from the west. “I don’t think the rain is going to hold off that long.”
    “I have a feeling you’re right.”
    “A free night, then,” he replied.
    She shook her head and tried not to focus on his mouth. “Probably not. The teams play rain or shine. Throw in some thunder and lightning, though, and it’s a different story. The refs will cancel a match in short order if there’s an electrical storm.”
    “Are you rooting for a bolt or two then?”
    One side of Alec’s mouth lifted after he said it, drawing her attention to his lips once again. Lightning bolts. She’d experienced a few of those earlier. Enough to remind her exactly what she’d been missing. Julia swallowed.
    “You know, now that I think about it, I wouldn’t mind something to drink.” Suddenly, her throat was parched.
    “Come on then. I’ll buy.”
    The man who stood behind the stainless steel pushcart selling refreshments had a shaved head, pierced eyebrows and a scraggly goatee that reached nearly to his Adam’s apple. Asian symbols of some sort were tattooed on either side of his neck, and both of his arms were heavily inked from wrist to shoulder and likely beneath the sleeveless T-shirt he wore. He would have been right at home working a traveling carnival, but his smile was warm and his demeanor not at all intimidating when they stepped up to order. It just went to show that appearances could be deceiving, Julia thought, even if image was everything in her business.
    Her gaze slid to Alec and the outfit he was wearing. She’d picked it out, each piece chosen for the image it would project and the emotional response it would garner. What he was wearing said: I’m safe. You can trust me . Again, she thought, appearances could be deceiving. Alec wasn’t safe. She couldn’t trust him. Or more aptly, she couldn’t trust herself when she was around him.
    “Do you know what you want?” Alec asked. His hand came to rest on the small of her back as he spoke.
    She frowned. “I can’t seem to decide.” Which was so not like her.
    “Maybe it would help to look at the menu board,” he suggested.
    Julia gave her forehead a mental slap. “Right. Um, a diet cola and a plain soft pretzel will do.”
    Alec ordered a regular soda for himself as well as a bratwurst heaped with sautéed peppers and onions. She tried to eat healthy, but her mouth watered when he handed her the brat to hold while he fished out his wallet. He paid for their purchases and smiled knowingly as he took back the brat.
    “Are you sure you don’t want a little bite?”
    She shook her head and brushed some of the salt off her pretzel.
    “Come on,” he coaxed. His tone was low and seductive. “You know you want some.”
    Did she