Secret Service Dad. Mollie Molay

to enjoy.

      She smoothed the little boy’s unruly hair away from his face. “You’re on, Jake, if it’s okay with your father,” she said, gazing at the virile man who often occupied her thoughts. Of all people to be Jake’s father! Why was the man she was attracted to so clearly not the man for her?

      “I wanna go with Miss Charlie now,” Jake said stubbornly. He grabbed Charlie’s hand and tried to pull her along with him. “Bye, Daddy.”

      Mike knew when he was licked. He let go of Jake’s shoulders. “Come right back when the race is over.” Too late. Jake and his temporary mother were already on their way.

      He watched the two head for Charlie’s picnic blanket to pick up the batons for use in the relay race. Sure enough, she was quietly talking to Jake who, to Mike’s surprise, was listening intently and nodding his head. Whatever she was saying, it looked as if Jake was eating it up.

      It sure couldn’t have been the celery-and-peanut-butter sticks Charlie had given Jake for lunch that had won the kid over, no way. Or the way she’d agreed to pretend to be his mother for the race. It had to be something more. Maybe Jake saw something in Charlie that only a child could see.

      “You must have bribed him with the promise of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!” Mike called, eyeing his antsy son as they walked by him on their way to the starting line. “I’ll have to remember to do that for future use.”

      “No bribe,” Charlie smiled. “I just explained we have something important to think about right now. Like winning the race. He can’t wait.” She paused to shake her head at Jake who was back to pulling at her hand. “He obviously isn’t into delayed gratification, is he?”

      Mike had to agree. Delayed gratification was a hard enough concept for a grown man to understand; he was still grappling with it himself. And that included considering a possible affair with, of all women, Charlie.

      Damn, he thought as he watched Charlie and Jake take their places at the starting line. The lady had to be smarter than he’d thought or she wouldn’t always manage to stay one step ahead of him so easily.

      He eyed her skintight T-shirt, the cream shorts that barely covered critical parts of her anatomy and her long, slim legs as she jogged across the lawn. With a slender waist, those appealing legs and a body he would have loved to explore, she was clearly in a class by herself. She was, if he had his head screwed on right, a woman to avoid.

      There was no doubt about it, his mind and his body weren’t going down the same track.