Genuine Lies

Brandon’s back, then nudged aside the book bag that was pressing into his kidneys. It had cost him nothing, he thought. He bought two season tickets every year as a matter of course, and had wangled the third from a friend who would be out of town. As Brandon grinned up at him, his face beaming with excitement and gratitude, Paul wished he’d had to slay a few dragons for the seats, at the very least.
    “You’re welcome. Listen, I’ve got one extra. Is there anyone you know who’d like to go with us?”
    It was almost too much. Like going to sleep in August and waking up on Christmas morning. Brandon stepped back, suddenly unsure if it was cool for a guy to hug another guy. He didn’t know. “Maybe Mom.”
    “Already declined, thank you,” she said.
    “Jeez, Dustin would really go nuts.”
    “Dustin already is nuts,” Paul said. “Why don’t you go give him a call, see if he can make it?”
    “No kidding? Great!” He bolted into the kitchen.
    “I don’t like to interfere in man business.” Julia unbuttoned her suit jacket. “But do you know what you’ve got yourself into?”
    “Boys’ night out?”
    “Paul.” She couldn’t help but be kindly disposed to him now—not after seeing Brandon’s face. “If I have this right, you were an only child, you’ve never been married or had any children of your own.”
    His gaze wandered down to her fingers that were still toying with the buttons of her jacket. “So far.”
    “Ever baby-sit?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “I thought not.” On a sigh, she slipped out of the jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. She was wearing a brick-colored sleeveless leotard, and Paul was delighted to see that as well as terrific legs, she had great shoulders. Smooth, creamy, and athletic. “Now, for your opening act, you’re going to take two ten-year-old boys to a professional basketball game. Solo.”
    “It’s not like a trek into the Amazon, Jules. I’m a reasonably competent man.”
    “I’m sure you are—under normal circumstances. Circumstances are never normal with ten-year-olds. It’s a very big arena, isn’t it?”
    “So?”
    “I’m going to have a lot of fun imagining you with two wild-eyed little boys.
    “If I do a good job, will you treat me to a post-game … drink?”
    She had both hands on his shoulders now, and a terrific urge to slide her fingers into his hair. “We’ll see,” she murmured. Her eyes changed, darkened. Going with impulse, she started to lower her head.
    “He can go!” Brandon shouted from the kitchen doorway. “His mom says it’s okay, but she has to talk to you to be sure he’s not making it up.”
    “Right.” Paul kept his eyes on Julia’s. Even if he’d been across the room, he could have seen the desire turn to astonished embarrassment. “I’ll be back.”
    Julia blew out a short breath. What the hell had she been thinking of? Wrong question, she decided. She hadn’t been thinking at all, just feeling. And that was always dangerous.
    Sweet Lord, he was attractive, appealing, sexy, charming. He had all those qualities that tempted a woman to make mistakes. It was a very good thing that she knew the pitfalls.
    She smiled as she heard Brandon’s excited voice pipe in counterpoint to Paul’s deeper, wryer tones. Cautious or not, she couldn’t help but like him. She wondered if he had any idea how he had looked when Brandon had swooped into his arms. That blank astonishment, then the slow pleasure. It wasentirely possible that she’d misjudged him, that he’d asked the boy to the game without any ulterior motives. She’d wait and see.
    Now she’d better start thinking about dinner. She glanced toward the mantel to check the time on the antique ormulu clock. It was gone. Baffled, she stared, then the color drained out of her face.
    She hadn’t been wrong. There had been someone in the house. Struggling not to panic again, she made a careful search of the living room. Besides the clock, there was a Dresden figurine, a pair of jade candlesticks, and three of the miniature antique snuff boxes that had been in the display cabinet.
    Keeping a mental account, she hurried into the dining room. There, too, she found several small, valuable pieces missing. There had been an amethyst butterfly that would fit in the palm of her hand, and had probably been worth several thousand dollars. A set of salt cellars from the Georgian period.
    When was the last time she had seen any of these things? She and