Jacqueline Diamond - Paris or Bust!

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“Your mom’s right,” Callum said. “Kings and queens are equal in this house and so are jacks and tens.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Just not in card games.”

“I want the kings,” Jerry said doggedly.

“I had them first!” His brother stuck out his tongue.

The next minute, cards tumbled to the carpet as Jeremy lunged at Benjamin. It took both adults to untangle them.

“Now what?” Callum asked as he threw Jerry over his shoulder.

“They both get time-outs,” Jody said. “Jeremy for attacking his brother, and Benjamin for sticking out his tongue and provoking him. You go that way and I’ll go this way.” Holding Ben’s hand, she marched him toward her bedroom.

“Well, big guy, I guess it’s you and me,” Callum said.

“You’re hurting my tummy.” When this didn’t bring an immediate response, Jerry added, “I might throw up.”

“Down my back?”

“And into your pants. I did it to Mommy.”

“I’ll bet she loved that.” Callum set the boy on his feet. “Okay, kid, march!”

The little guy’s stubborn expression hadn’t softened by the time they reached the boys’ room. “How do these time-outs work?” Callum asked.

“You have to go away.” Jerry’s mouth quivered.

“Is there any rule that says the daddy can’t stay here with you and have a time-out, too?” Callum asked.

Jeremy shook his blond head. As the boy plopped onto his bed, a slow smile warmed his features. “I guess I won.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re the king and I got you.”

Callum lowered himself beside his son, bending so as not to bump his head on the upper bunk. “What was this fight really about?”

“Ben says you like him better than me.” Jerry wiggled around on the quilt as if unable to hold still. It might, Callum suspected, be a condition endemic to four-year-old boys.

“Where did he get that idea?”

“You let him play with your ’puter.”

“Only because he invited himself into my room.”

“Can I play on it?”

On the point of agreeing, Callum remembered that this was supposed to be a punishment. “Not until you’ve served your time. You attacked your brother, remember?”

“Can I play later?” Jeremy asked.

“You bet.” He supposed he ought to leave now. The last thing he wanted was to interfere with Jody’s discipline program. “I don’t know about this household, but where I grew up, the rule was that time-outs also included a hug. Is that true here?”

“Yes. Unless I’m mad,” his son said.

“Can I have my hug now, in case you get mad later?”

The boy considered the question solemnly. “Okay.” He threw his arms around his father’s neck.

Drawing Jerry onto his lap, Callum hugged and rocked him. It took a moment before he realized that this rush of tenderness was love, a different kind of love than he’d ever experienced before. He wanted to protect this little boy so fiercely that he would do anything, give anything, sacrifice anything for his sake.

When the boy started wiggling again, Callum released him. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.” Jeremy beamed.

In the front room, Jody said, “You’d better go see Ben. He feels neglected because you went with his brother.”

“They’re amazing.”

“I’m a little jealous,” Jody admitted. “Although I know that’s ridiculous.”

“I’m the new toy. Of course they find me more interesting, temporarily,” Callum said. “But they’d be lost without their mom. So would I.”

The words slipped out before he had a chance to reconsider. Well, so what? He’d meant it.

Ben kept him entertained with tales of adventures at the Wiltons’ ranch. Later, after the twins apologized to each other, they took turns at the computer and Jody then read them all a storybook. Her animated face and voice cast a spell over Callum.

When the twins were asleep, he went to his room to work on the laptop. It was rare for him to spend a whole day, even a Sunday, without accessing the Web site and reading his e-mail. Tonight, however, he couldn’t concentrate.

Hoping another cookie would help, he wandered into the kitchen. Music reached him from Jody’s room. Oh, to heck with work, anyway, he thought, and went to pay her a visit.

She lay on the king-size bed where he’d hugged Ben earlier, reading a novel while country music played on the radio. Beside her on an end table lay a monitor, which he realized must be tuned to the boys’ room.

With her hair spread across the pillow and her inviting curves outlined by a silky nightgown, Jody might have been a seductress from an exotic tale. His own private Scheherazade.

“Hi,” she said, bookmarking her place.

“Want company?” Callum sat on the edge of the bed. “If you’re not too tired, maybe we could…”

“Shut up and kiss me,” said the most enchanting woman in the world, and she pulled him down beside her.

This time, there was less urgency to their lovemaking and more sweetness. They amused each other slowly, teasing and talking. Callum wished he could extend this intimacy forever, but at last passion overcame his resistance.

When they’d finished, it was a luxury to sleep beside her all night, to listen to her breathing and feel the subtle electricity of her skin. He wanted to spend every night this way.

Toward morning, Callum dreamed that he was riding home after a long day on the range. Jody emerged from the barn to greet him, a little girl clinging to her skirt. The boys, grown into pre-teenagers, waved from a corral where they were training horses. He drifted awake with a profound sense of yearning.

He glanced toward the other side of the bed. Empty. Jody must have arisen early to start her chores. She couldn’t afford to linger in bed on a Monday morning.

Monday! Callum sat up straight. He was missing the weekly staff meeting, and he’d promised to call his secretary about rescheduling his appointments. With April almost here, the copy was due for the July issue and the Web master would be changing the site soon.

Of course, Tisa could run the operation for a while. She did her job efficiently and with flair. No one had Callum’s gift for the stylish and the eye-catching, though. When celebrities called, they asked for him personally. Some of the major advertisers did, too.

Enthusiasm powered Callum through his morning routine. When he’d showered and changed, he was relieved to find Gladys’s daughter, Louise, ready to take the boys to town for their half day of preschool.

He gave each boy a hug, distracted for a moment from his preoccupation with work. Once they’d left, Callum powered up his laptop, picked up his cell phone and got to work.

He came alive as he immersed himself in activity, his mind ticking off a dozen details at once. The adrenaline rush made him forget his surroundings for hours.

By lunchtime, last night’s dream had almost disappeared. It came back to Callum only when he looked out the window and saw Jody and her hired hand marking off a large rectangle toward the back of the house. Judging by the stumps of cornstalks, they must be planning to clear and replant the vegetable garden.

The cycle of life on a ranch had a nostalgic familiarity. Callum understood the satisfaction of seeing crops grow and herds increase. Although operating a modern ranch required sophisticated knowledge of everything from cattle prices to tax laws, would it be outside the realm of possibility for him to stay here and learn to run the Wandering I with Jody?

A shudder ran through him. That man riding home in the dream could never be him. Not for long, anyway. He loved Jody and the boys, but he didn’t want their closeness to deteriorate into broken promises and resentment. There had to be a better solution.

Callum went to fix lunch. Jody must be starving after a morning of hard physical work. Ranching didn’t suit her, he thought, even though she was doing a conscientious job. She belonged in a classroom.

He set to work fixing a large Nicoise salad with leftovers and some purchases he’d made in town. Boston lettuce, ripe tomatoes, thick slices of potato, hard-boiled eggs, tuna, black olives, capers, anchovies. The names of the ingredients fitted into a mesmerizing rhythm while he worked.

He was mixing the vinaigrette when Jody came in. “That smells wonderful.”

“As good as chalk dust?” he asked impulsively.

“Is that a joke?” Her nose wrinkled. “Because it isn’t funny.”

“It’s not a joke.” Callum took her hands in his. Turning them over, he inspected the scarred and calloused palms. “You’re doing a great job. Your father would be proud of you. But this isn’t right.”

A frown settled across her face. “What you mean is, it isn’t what you want me to do.”

“That’s partly true,” Callum conceded. “I want you and the boys to move to L.A. so we can be together.”

“You want to have your work and us, too,” Jody answered. “Well, this is my work. That land out there is my office, and I have a staff, too. You can’t ask me to toss them aside any more than I can ask you to toss your magazine aside.”

“One of us has to move,” he said.

She pressed her lips together. He imagined he could hear what she was thinking: It won’t be me.

Darn! She’d always been stubborn. But then, so was he.

“Let’s eat,” Jody said. “I’m grumpy on an empty stomach.”

He had to win her over, but he’d already played his trump card by mentioning her teaching career. He knew she’d be happier teaching in a classroom than oiling farm machinery any day of the week, if only she would allow herself to admit it, but for some reason she’d refused. What else did he have to offer?

For once, Callum Fox had run out of ideas.

AFTER LUNCH, Callum took a cell phone call and disappeared into his room. Too edgy to return to work, Jody sat at the piano and rippled through a show tune, then another and another, while her thoughts played over their conversation.