The Mommy Makeover Read online

  Lucy was right—he had wanted it. If he hadn’t, that kiss would’ve never happened. “I don’t understand why this is such a big deal. I’m going to handle it. And if you’re done with the interrogation, I need to go.”

  “How long has she been widowed?” she asked, indicating she wasn’t done.

  “Six years.”

  “Does she have family here?”

  He started to ask why Erica’s life history was so important, but instead decided to answer the question and hope it was the last. “Her parents are in Oklahoma, and she has a brother in Seattle. She moved here ten years ago because her daughter was born with a heart problem.”

  That definitely got his mother’s attention. “Is the little girl all right?”

  “She’s had several surgeries, but she’s fully recovered.”

  Lucy sighed. “And that, my dear, is the ‘big deal.’ You have a mother who’s almost completely alone and a little girl who’s suffered through sickness and the death of a parent at a very young age. I would hate to think you’d take advantage of the situation, especially when it comes to a woman who could still be very vulnerable.”

  From the beginning, he’d recognized Erica’s vulnerability when it came to her self-image, but beyond that, she was tougher than a lot of women he’d known. “I understand what you’re saying, Mom, but I don’t intend to take advantage of anyone.”

  “Of course no one intends to do that, dear. But intentions sometimes go by the wayside when a man can’t—to quote your father—keep the pony in the barn.”

  “It’s stallion in the stall, Mom.” The last time Kieran suffered this much humiliation, his dad had attempted the “sex talk” using Irish proverbs. “If you’re through chastising me—” and embarrassing the hell out of him “—I have to leave, Mom.”

  Lucy wagged a finger at him, signaling she still wasn’t finished. “One more thing you should consider. You have a prime opportunity to make a positive impact on not one but two lives by being a role model to the child and a friend to the mother.” She patted his cheek. “That’s the road you should take, my dear. The honorable road.”

  His mother was right—he needed to remember the honor code his parents had drilled into him from birth, as well as the professional ethics he’d established early in his career. He would guide Erica through the fitness process, maybe help Stormy with softball and be on his best behavior, beginning tomorrow. Mondays were hell, but he’d find the time for Erica and Stormy. Besides, he’d claimed he couldn’t schedule a session until Tuesday only because he’d needed to take a step back. His weakness wasn’t fair to Erica, and if he was going to do this, he planned to do it right. He also planned to keep his hands—and mouth—to himself.

  Chapter Five

  Erica couldn’t stop thinking about Kieran’s mouth, no matter how hard she’d tried, and she’d tried all day long, failing regularly in her attempts.

  “You’re last appointment canceled, honey.”

  After dropping the robe onto the end of the massage table, Erica turned to face the sixtysomething salon owner standing at the treatment room door, her lips the color of hothouse tomatoes, her platinum-blond coif stiff as a springboard. “I’m sorry, Bette. What did you say?”

  “Your four o’clock isn’t coming, so you can go home now.”

  “Thanks.” As bad as she needed the money, Erica wasn’t all that disappointed over the no-show. Now she could take Stormy home early, go to the market and have ample time to prepare an early, healthy dinner. Afterward, they could watch a movie together. A nice, animated, G-rated movie with absolutely no kissing.

  When the stylist continued to stare at her with blatant curiosity, Erica kept a tight rein on her patience for the sake of civility. “Did you need something else, Bette?”

  “Just a quick question. Are you getting laid?”

  The woman knew blunt like she knew big Texas hair, much to Erica’s chagrin. “No, I am not getting laid. And even if I was, I wouldn’t say a thing for fear the news would end up on every radio and TV station in Houston.”

  Undeterred, Bette strolled in and parked herself on the wingback chair across the room. “Something’s wrong with you, honey. Or maybe I should say something’s right with you. I’ve watched you all afternoon. You’re distracted, and that typically means a man’s involved.”

  Erica couldn’t exactly refute that, but she wouldn’t confirm it, either. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Busy, my foot, sugar. You’re in la-la land. Why, you even smiled for no reason at all, even after Megan told you Mr. Winston didn’t leave a tip.”

  Truth was, she hadn’t heard Megan mention the non-tip. She hadn’t heard much of anything aside from an annoying little voice in her head reminding her of Saturday night. “Okay, I’m in la-la land, but who wouldn’t be? It’s a gorgeous day outside.”

  Bette delivered an inelegant snort. “It wasn’t that kind of a smile, Erica. It was a dreamy smile, like you had some guy on your mind. And I’m thinking that guy is the pizza deliveryman.”

  For heaven’s sake. “He doesn’t deliver pizza. He’s a personal trainer. My personal trainer.”

  Bette raised a too-thin eyebrow. “What’s he training you for?”

  The exact same thing Kieran’s brother had asked, and Erica had the same reaction—a blush to beat all blushes. “Fitness training, Bette.”

  “Well, if I were you, honey, I’d want more from him than a few rounds on a treadmill.” Bette leaned forward and smiled. “That is, if you’re interested in him.”

  If Erica issued a denial, she’d be handing the woman a huge fib. Instead, she opted to take the Fifth and began gathering her things.

  Bette shot to her feet and pointed. “You are interested, aren’t you?”

  Erica shoved her cell phone into her bag, threw the purse strap over her shoulder and faced her interrogator. “I’m interested in getting out of here while I can still find a parking spot at the grocery store. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Bette positioned herself in the doorway, impeding Erica’s departure. “Listen, sugar, I know I’m twice your age and I’ve been married to the same man since St. Peter was playing in the sandbox. But I still know a lot about the opposite sex.”

  “What’s the point to all this, Bette?”

  “The point is, you aren’t getting any younger, doll. And there aren’t that many cute, single guys your age, ripe for the picking.” She took Erica’s hands into hers, her expression surprisingly serious. “I know it was hard, losing a husband so young, but it’s time you bring your life out of storage, dust it off and take it for a spin. That means going for the gusto while you still have some gusto left.”

  “You mean dating?”

  “If you want to play it that way, yeah, dating, and all the benefits that come with the package. Your trainer man has a lot of benefits, some that can’t be seen with the naked eye unless he’s naked.” Bette followed up with a cackle that grated on Erica’s nerves like a civil defense siren.

  “You’re telling me that I should seduce him?” The thought of seducing any man, let alone Kieran O’Brien, seemed almost laughable.

  “That’s exactly what I mean, honey,” Bette said as she released Erica’s hands. “Remember, you don’t have to marry him. But a guy like that can bring you back to the land of the living with only a little encouragement. Unless you’ve forgotten how to encourage. If that’s the case, I can give you a few pointers. All you have to do is ask.”

  Erica didn’t dare ask the resident gossip for advice on sex. “Thanks for the offer, Bette, but I don’t have time for men in my life right now.”

  Bette winked. “You might just change your mind after a little more training.” With that, Bette spun around and headed away with more vigor than most women her age, leaving Erica to ponder her coworker’s observations.

  Never in a million years would she entertain the idea of seducing Kieran. Then again, two nights ago, she didn’t have to do a thing aside from engage i
n a little suggestive banter. That alone had earned her a kiss.

  A kiss she wanted to experience again. And again. So why shouldn’t she go for it? Because he’d been adamant about professionalism. Because he’d said the kiss shouldn’t have happened, and it wouldn’t happen again. And that was quite enough to discourage her.

  Yet when Erica headed through the salon to retrieve her daughter from the break room, Bette’s words echoed in her mind.

  It’s time to take your life out of storage…

  Maybe her friend was right. Maybe she had put her life in the closet, using excuses like mothballs to preserve her memories of Jeff. Maybe it was time to move forward. And maybe Kieran O’Brien could be the cure for her inability to gain any ground.

  If she had the least bit of courage, she would go for it, as Bette had suggested. She just might at that—provided Kieran didn’t resign as her fitness coach, never to be seen again.

  “Look, Mom! It’s Kieran!”

  Erica slowed the sedan to a crawl when she caught sight of a black Porsche hugging the curb in front of her house. And leaning against the hood, dressed in a tight white T-shirt that showcased his dynamite arms, and jeans that looked tailor-made, a modern-day Greek fitness god. Her first thought—why had he come to the house? Her next—she was very happy to see him. Secretly thrilled, even though she questioned his unexpected appearance, and if his resignation was imminent.

  As she whipped the car into the driveway, Erica’s mind zipped back to the kiss that continued to plague her, and she immediately forced the image away. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—think about that now, particularly with the kissing culprit on the premises.

  Before Erica could get one foot out the door, Stormy jumped from the vehicle and ran to Kieran, throwing her arms around him as if she’d rediscovered her long-lost best friend.

  When Stormy rushed back and announced, “He’s got a surprise!” Erica calmly walked to the trunk, opened it slowly and pulled out two grocery bags in an effort to regroup before she had to face him. Yet when Kieran sauntered toward her with that same show-stopping gait, her composure dissolved like an ice cream cone on a summer sidewalk. He had all the confidence in the universe and no qualms about looking her straight in the eye, while she only wanted to look him straight in the mouth. He soon arrived where she stood like a statue, gripping the bags to her chest, as if they offered protection against all that charisma.

  “Hey,” he said with a smile that could easily melt the frozen foods in her grasp.

  And like a fool, Erica replied, “Aren’t you supposed to be at the club?” as if inconvenienced over his arrival.

  He braced a hand on the top of her car, making the midsize sedan seem remarkably small. “I finished what I needed to do earlier than planned.”

  “So he came to see us today instead of tomorrow,” Stormy added.

  Erica handed her daughter the bag with the refrigerated items. “Take these in and put them away before the ice cream melts.”

  Amazingly Stormy skipped away without any protest, and Erica felt the need to explain her purchases to Kieran. “The ice cream’s for Stormy. I bought myself frozen yogurt. Feel free to check out my receipt.” Or anything else you’d like to check out from a nonnutrition standpoint. An absolutely ridiculous thought, concocted by a woman acting as if she were confronting her first crush.

  “I didn’t come here to police your food,” he said.

  She shifted the remaining sack to her hip. “Then why are you here?”

  “To make you work so you don’t lose your motivation.”

  When he grinned, she almost lost her grip on the groceries. “I wasn’t planning on going to the club tonight, per your request. In fact, I’ve planned an early dinner.”

  “We can work out after dinner.”

  “Are you staying for dinner?”

  “Are you inviting me?”

  Erica had no problem with that, except…“Eat at your own risk. We’re having fish.”

  “Not my favorite, but I’ll eat it as long as it’s not fried.”

  That wasn’t an option according to her self-imposed diet. “I’m going to bake it.”

  “Sounds good to me.” He pointed behind him. “I brought a few weights with me along with a few other things.”

  She envisioned all sorts of portable devices designed for the utmost in physical persecution. “What other things?”

  His gaze drifted away momentarily. “I brought a glove and ball to play some catch with Stormy. If that’s okay with you.”

  “Is that the surprise she mentioned?”

  “Yeah.”

  Obviously he hadn’t given the promise much thought, leaving Erica to deal with some serious fallout from her child if she refused. “If I say no, you do realize she’ll be thoroughly disappointed and furious at me.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. I guess I screwed up again.”

  Kieran looked so remorseful, Erica couldn’t think of one good reason not to go along with his plan. “If she wants to play some catch, that’s fine, as long as you’re careful.”

  He raised a hand in oath. “I promise I’ll go easy on her.”

  “Hopefully easier than you’ve been on me. My body’s still suffering the effects of our easy workout.” In more ways than one.

  “Are you still sore from the other night?” he asked with concern.

  “I’ve had a little trouble sleeping.” But not from the aches and pains generated from the exercise.

  “I know what you mean,” he said, his somber tone contrasting with his earlier smile. “And I want to apologize again for letting things get out of hand. I’ll be on my best behavior from now on. You have my word on it.”

  “What a shame.” Good heavens, had she really said that? Before Kieran could respond, she added, “I need to put the groceries away and start dinner.” She backed toward the door. “Feel free to play catch with the kid. I’ll send her right out.”

  Erica rushed into the kitchen where she found her daughter placing the last of the dairy products in the storage bin.

  “Did Kieran tell you about the surprise?” Stormy asked as she turned and closed the refrigerator door with a twitch of her small hip.

  Erica set the bag of dry goods down on the counter. “Yes, he did.”

  “And?”

  “He brought a ball and glove so he can play some catch with you while I make dinner.”

  Stormy jumped up and down, her curls bouncing in time with her movement before she came to an abrupt stop. “Did you tell him yes?”

  “Yes, I told him yes. Now go change your clothes and put those new shoes to good use.”

  After her daughter sprinted away, Erica went back to shelving the groceries and dropped two cans on the floor on her way to the pantry when her thoughts turned to Kieran. She dropped another when she heard “Did you forget something?” coming from behind her.

  She glanced back to see Kieran holding the remaining two bags she’d left in the trunk. “Oh, yeah. Thanks. Put them on the counter next to the sink.”

  She continued to stare at the canned goods while he breezed behind her, bringing with him a slight hint of cologne that set her female radar on maximum alert. No doubt one of those expensive colognes formulated to attract women like a two-for-one shoe sale. She didn’t realize until that moment how much she’d missed those masculine scents in her home. How much she’d missed having a male presence when she noticed Kieran unscrewing the lightbulb centered over the sink, the one that had burned out some time ago.

  “Got another bulb?” he asked.

  Fortunately, she happened to be in the right place at the right time. Unfortunately, the bulbs were on the top shelf out of her reach, and unless she put out an all-points bulletin on the step stool that had mysteriously gone missing two weeks ago, she’d have to ask for assistance. “I have some up extra bulbs in here, but I’m too short to get to them without help.”

  He came up behind her and stood so close that her breath hitched hard in
her chest. When he reached up and took the box with ease, he brushed against her back, stealing her breath completely. Then he moved away and she muttered, “Thanks,” before putting the last can and her composure back into place.

  With Kieran standing in her kitchen, it would be nothing short of a miracle if she had enough presence of mind to prepare a meal. At least Stormy would keep him occupied for a while.

  Kieran changed the bulb with little effort while Erica retrieved the ingredients for dinner, thankfully without flipping the snapper onto the floor. She could sense he was watching her as she pulled the bakeware from the drawer beneath the stove opposite the sink where he still stood.

  “How many clients have you kissed before?” Erica blurted without thought, then ventured a quick glance behind her to gauge his reaction, only to find he didn’t seem at all insulted by the question.

  “Honestly?”

  She turned and leaned back against the stove, casserole dish in hand. “Honesty is the best policy, as they say.”

  Now he looked extremely serious. “None.”

  She tightened her grip on the dish for fear it might end up on the tile in pieces. “Not one?”

  “Nope. I’ve always adhered to the rules.”

  Unbelievable. “Why me?”

  He forked a hand through his hair. “After all that laughing at my expense, it could be I was trying to shut you up.”

  That might have angered her had he not been smiling when he’d said it. “I guess that’s one way to do it.”

  Kieran started to speak but instead cleared his throat. “We have company.”

  She leaned forward to discover Stormy sitting at the nearby dinette, tying her new sneakers. Not knowing how long she’d been there, Erica prayed her daughter hadn’t overheard the conversation. That would require a very lengthy explanation.

  “Are you ready, kiddo?” Kieran asked as he joined Stormy at the table.

  She nodded and said, “Where’s the ball and glove?”

  “In my bag in the den. We can get it on our way out.”

  “You can go in the backyard,” Erica said. “It’s fenced.”