Deadline (Sandra Brown)

you mad at me for encouraging Dawson to hang out with us?”
    “I can’t be mad. The boys had a wonderful time. Being in male company was good for them.”
    “That was my thinking. But this particular male bugs you, doesn’t he?”
    She turned toward the younger woman, ready to take umbrage. Instead she ducked her head, admitting quietly, “A bit.”
    “His crooked tooth is awfully cute.”
    Amelia had noticed his slightly overlapping incisor. It actually made his smile more interesting.
    “And I’d like to take a bite out of his biceps.”
    “You’re incorrigible, Stef.”
    “Well, wouldn’t you?”
    If pressed, Amelia would have to admit that Dawson Scott was physically attractive. More times than she was comfortable with, her eyes had strayed from the novel that she was reading in the shade of the umbrella to the surf where he played with the boys. They had vied for his attention all day. He had seemed to be enjoying himself, too. But…
    “There’s something wrong with him.” Amelia didn’t even realize she’d spoken the thought out loud until Stef moaned.
    “Oh, shit. He’s married ?”
    Amelia laughed. “No. I mean, I don’t know if he’s married or not. I haven’t—”
    “Shh! Here he comes.”
    Amelia turned to see him approaching the porch. When he reached the bottom step, he said, “I saw you out here. Thought I’d bring a peace offering for monopolizing your sons all day.” He had the neck of an uncorked wine bottle and two glasses clasped in one hand. Noticing the wineglass she held, he frowned. “But I see I’m too late.”
    “I’m going to bed. ’Night, you two.” Stef went inside and closed the front door. Half a second later, the porch light went out.
    Amelia and Dawson looked at each other through the sudden darkness, and when she saw a grin tugging at his lips, she had to laugh also. “She’s got romantic notions.”
    “Would you rather I go?”
    She considered it, then asked, “What color wine?”
    “Red.”
    She extended her glass toward him. “As long as you bothered, you can top this off.”
    “I found the bottle in a cabinet. I can’t vouch for the vintage.”
    “I can vouch for this one. Blending it with another will be an improvement.”
    He climbed the steps, refilled her glass, then poured one for himself. As he sat down in the rocker beside hers, he groaned. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow. Hunter and Grant gave me quite a workout.”
    She ran her finger around the lip of her wineglass. “All things considered, it’s hard for me to say this, but thank you for spending time with them.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “They especially loved the roughhousing. I try, but…” She trailed off and shrugged.
    He stretched his legs out in front of him. “Moms don’t make good wrestlers. They’re too afraid someone will get hurt.”
    She smiled. “You’re right of course.” She paused to sip her wine. “Do you have children of your own?”
    “No.”
    “Married?”
    “No.”
    “Stef wondered.”
    “Hmm.” He sipped from his glass. “Am I allowed to make some observations?”
    “About Stef?”
    “About your children.”
    She made a motion for him to continue.
    “I don’t know much about kids, but, in my amateur opinion, you’ve done a good job with yours.”
    “Thank you.”
    “They don’t pee in swimming pools.”
    She laughed.
    “They say please and thank you. And even though I did suggest naming the battleship after you, they jumped on the idea.”
    “I wouldn’t trade them for any others.”
    “Hunter is the more cautious of the two. He has his exuberant moments, but basically he’s serious-minded. It’s like he already realizes that being the oldest child comes with implied responsibilities that he accepts, even if it isn’t fair.
    “Grant,” he said, pausing to grin, “wears his emotions on his sleeve. He’s impulsive, capricious, approaches everything at full tilt. I’m betting that he’ll get into more mischief than his older brother.”
    “You’ve given them a lot of thought.”
    “I’m naturally curious about people and what makes them tick. My job requires it. I observe closely and analyze my observations.” When she merely nodded without comment, he added, “People reveal as much by their silences as they do by what they say.”
    “Do they? I’ll have to remember that.”
    “Damn. By sharing a trade secret, did I just shoot myself in the foot? Will you be constantly on guard from here on?”
    “We