“Not hungry?”
She looked up to find Alec Malone staring at her. The expression in his eyes was softer now. Tess shook her head.
“Want a coffee?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Sure. I can make some.”
“No. I meant, would you like to go out for one? I noticed a place just around the corner.”
“But the kids—”
“Will be fine. Right, guys?”
Nick and Molly nodded, glancing at the same time from one to the other.
“Maybe Tess won’t mind if you eat at the couch—long as you’re careful.” He wrapped up the rest of his sandwich and got off the bar stool.
“What about your lunch?” Tess asked.
“Later. Right now, we need to talk.” He watched Nick and Molly settle themselves a few feet away on the couch. “Alone,” he added.
Although Tess knew he was taking charge again, she also knew he was right. And the talk had to be done away from the kids. “They won’t—”
“Run away again? Nah. But just to be sure…” He headed for the couch and leaned over to whisper something to Nick, then walked toward the door to wait for Tess.
She put her sandwich in the fridge and went to the bedroom to get her keys and wallet. Nick and Molly were both engrossed in the TV when she joined Alec at the door. She paused. “There’s frozen yogurt if you two want any dessert.”
Nick glanced up. “Any ice cream?”
“No, but…it’s strawberry yogurt.”
He gave a half shrug, as if that was better than nothing, then turned his attention to the television again.
“I like frozen yogurt,” Molly piped up. “Thanks, Tess.” She waved her fingers and resumed eating her sandwich.
Tess locked the door behind them and followed Alec to the elevator. His stiff, broad back looked ready for inspection. If it weren’t for his hair, thick and fringing slightly at the nape of his neck, she’d have pegged him for a military man. He didn’t say a word as they waited for the elevator. Either small talk wasn’t his style, or he was ticked off at her. His demeanor suggested the latter.
But as the elevator slid to the ground floor, he finally murmured, “The kids have been through a lot.”
“I can see that,” Tess said.
“Can you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, offended by the tone of his question.
“Just that from your manner, it seems you can only see how their unexpected appearance has impacted on you.”
Tess felt her blood pressure skyrocket. Or perhaps it was the elevator, lurching to a stop at the condo lobby. Speechless, she tagged behind him out the main door and onto the sidewalk.
“That’s the most unfair thing I’ve heard since—”
“Since what? Hearing your father was dead or finding out you had a brother and sister?”
Was her own face as red as his, she wondered? Was that why people were turning around to look at them? She strode ahead, making for the Starbucks around the corner. The familiarity of the place calmed her. This was her turf after all. She could be in charge again. By the time he caught up to her, she’d already placed her order at the counter.
She carried her cafe latte to her favorite table and watched him, secretly congratulating herself on avoiding a song and dance about who would pay. He was speaking pleasantly to the female counter clerk, laughing about something she’d said. Behaving as if he hadn’t been on the verge of exploding moments ago.
When he turned to walk toward her, Tess also realized for the first time how good-looking he was. Not her type, of course. Too athletic and rugged. But she noticed how the clerk’s eyes tracked him to where Tess was sitting, then shifted away in obvious disappointment as he took the seat across from her.
“First off,” he began once he’d set his mug of regular coffee down. “I apologize for what I said back there. I was out of line.”
Out of line? He must have been in the military.
“None of this is your fault—any more than it’s Nick or Molly’s.” His tawny eyes met hers briefly, then lowered to his coffee. He blew gently on the brew, sipped carefully and set it on the table.
Giving her time to come up with an opening line, she asked herself? Tess forced herself to outwait him, thinking she’d rather see where the talk was going to go.
“I can appreciate how your world’s kinda been flipped upside down the last twenty-four hours,” he said.
Kinda? I guess.
“Finding out your father’s dead and all.”
“As far as I’m concerned, my father died twenty-five years ago when he walked out of my life.”
His eyes flicked abruptly from the coffee mug to her face. “Sorry. I didn’t realize when I spoke with you yesterday that he’d basically abandoned you. I just assumed…you know…that your folks had divorced.”
“Well, they did eventually I suppose, because he went on to marry someone else.” She paused. “And don’t be sorry…please! I’ve managed to put all that out of my life.”
“Until yesterday.”
It was her turn to stare down at her coffee, still untouched.
After a moment, he said, “I guess that explains your reluctance to get involved.”
Reluctance? How does refusal sound?
He went on. “But unfortunately, the past has reared its ugly head, as the saying goes. Nick and Molly are your family now.”
Tess raised her head. “I haven’t had a family for several years, Mr. Malone. At least, not the family most people mean. My mother spent most of her life after my father left us in and out of psychiatric hospitals until her death. When I was fourteen my guardian applied for legal custody.”
“Call me Alec—please.” He reached across the table and placed his hand on hers.
Startled by the sudden contact, Tess quickly pulled hers away.
“Look, I’m sorry about what happened but it’s got nothing to do with Nick and Molly. They may not seem like family to you, but they’re your flesh and blood.”
“Half siblings,” she muttered.
“Half is more than enough,” he said, lowering his voice. “I think I should fill you in on some of what the kids have gone through these past few weeks. So, enjoy your latte and listen up.”
Not wanting to know, yet accepting that she needed to, Tess reached for her drink.
“I guess by now Walker has given you the details of the accident—hasn’t he?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to him directly yet. I just got the letter on Thursday and yesterday…”
Alec pursed his lips in disgust. “Yeah. The kids turned up on your doorstep. Walker could’ve handled the whole damn thing with a bit more sensitivity, but that’s not his style. Anyway, Richard and Gabriela—his wife—were killed when their car went off a mountain road outside Boulder. That was the end of March.”
“The twenty-eighth,” Tess said.
He nodded. “The police investigation didn’t turn up anything—you know, like drugs or alcohol—and concluded Richard had lost control of the car