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"I know where it is," he interrupted. "Same place you went."
"Yes." She'd had no idea he'd known where she went to school, much less remembered it. "I really appreciate this, Michael. I'm so late." She set the coffee aside, then stood, flustered, when he took her hand.
"Relax. The hotel's not going to collapse if you're late for a meeting."
"No, but my department might. Ali has to turn in her English composition this morning. She has it; I checked. But you might want to remind her. And Kayla should go over her spelling words on the drive in. She has a test. Ali can help her."
"I said I'll handle it."
"Yes, but, if you'd make sure they take umbrellas. I've set them out. It may rain."
"Now." He rose and, forgetting he had an audience, took her face in his hands and kissed her. "Go away."
"I—" She glanced over to where Mrs. Williamson was by all appearances busy humming over her pancakes. "I'm going. But they need to be reminded to feed the dog. Sometimes—"
"Out." Because she apparently needed a boost, he pulled her to the door. "Go nag somebody else."
When she opened her mouth again, he gave her a friendly slap on the butt to send her along. "How does anyone start a morning like that?'' he wondered, then turned and found Mrs. Williamson eyeing him soberly.
He cursed, but was wise enough to do it only mentally. "Is it like that around here every day?"
Ignoring his question, she stepped forward, walked around him. He thought he had a pretty good idea of what she was seeing. A man who came in the back door because he didn't belong at the front one.
She stopped, faced him, pursed her lips. "I wondered if you had your eye on anything else around here besides my cooking."
Because she had a way of making him want to shuffle his feet, he tucked his hands in his pockets. "So?"
"So—good." She gave his cheek a brisk pat, and was amused by the surprise on his face. The boy, she thought, had never had a clue of his own worth. "So—good for both of you, and about time, I say. First time in her life that girl's had a real man."
Humbled speechless, he shook his head. When he found his voice again, he took her hands. "Mrs. Williamson, you slay me."
"I will if you break her heart. But in the meantime, you should be good for each other. Now sit down and finish your breakfast before it's cold. If you're going to handle those girls yourself this morning, you need your fuel."
"I love you. I really do."
Her face creased in a wide smile. "I know that, boy. I love you right back. Now sit down and eat. They'll be down in a minute and chattering like magpies."
Chapter Fourteen
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Michael Fury had jumped off buildings, fought in jungles, weathered a typhoon at sea, raced cars at high speed and, at one time or another, broken several major bones in his body.
He'd been in bar fights, spent the night in a cell where the artwork on the walls ran to anatomically exaggerated etchings of female organs. He had killed men and loved women.
And he had, he realized, led a sheltered life.
He had never faced the perils and predicaments of getting two girls out of the house on a school day.
"What do you mean you can't wear those shoes?"
"They don't go with my outfit."
His eyes narrowed as he studied Ali's floral skirt and pink sweater. Hadn't she been wearing some green thing a minute ago? "That's what you said the last time. And it looks fine to me. They're just shoes."
In the way of every female since Eve strapped on a fig leaf, Ali rolled her eyes. "They're the wrong shoes. I have to change them."
"Well, hurry up. Jesus," he muttered as she dashed back upstairs, leaving Kayla tugging on his hand.
