“They’re faster than they look,” Mitch said honestly, “and they change directions like jackrabbits.”

“It just seems that way when you’re old like you,” Taylor replied. “But if you’re right, I’ll just tag you.”

“If you think I’m leaving base, you’re out of your mind. I’m just going to take a seat here for a while.”

“C’mon!” Cameron shouted to Taylor, wanting the game to resume. “You can’t catch me!”

Taylor rubbed his hands together. “All right, here I come!”

Taylor took a giant step toward the kids, and with a jubilant scream they scattered in different directions. But Kyle’s voice, cutting loudly through the darkness, was unmistakable and suddenly made Taylor stop his charge.

“C’mon, Daddy!” (C’maw, Da-ee!) Kyle shouted. “C’mon, Daddy!”

Daddy.

Taylor, frozen for a moment, simply stared in Kyle’s direction. Mitch, who’d seen Taylor’s reaction, teased: “Is there something you haven’t told me, Taylor?”

Taylor didn’t respond.

“He just called you ‘Daddy,’ ” Mitch added, as if Taylor had missed it.

But Taylor barely heard what Mitch had said. Lost in thought, the word repeated in Taylor’s mind.

Daddy.

Though he knew it was simply Kyle mimicking the other children-as if calling out Daddy were part of the game-it nonetheless brought Melissa’s statement to mind again.

So are you going to marry this girl or what?

“Earth to Taylor . . . come in, big daddy,” Mitch said, unable to suppress a grin.

Taylor finally glanced toward him. “Shut up, Mitch.”

“Sure enough . . . Daddy.”

Taylor finally took a step toward the kids. “I’m not his daddy,” he said, almost to himself.

Though Mitch whispered the next words to himself, Taylor heard them as clearly as he’d heard Kyle’s a moment before.

“Not yet, anyway.”

“Did you guys have fun?” Melissa asked as the children came pounding through the front door, finally tired enough to call it quits for the night.

“We had a blast. Dad’s getting awful slow, though,” Cameron offered.

“I am not,” Mitch said defensively as he followed them inside. “I let you get to base.”

“Right, Dad.”

“I put some juice in the living room. Don’t spill, okay?” Melissa said as the kids trudged past her. Mitch leaned in to kiss Melissa, but she pulled back. “Not until after you shower. You’re filthy.”

“This is what I get for entertaining the kids?”

“No, that’s the response you get when you smell bad.”

Mitch laughed and started toward the patio slider, heading toward the backyard in search of a beer.

Taylor brought up the rear, Kyle right in front of him. Kyle followed the other kids to the living room as Denise watched him go.

“How did he do?” Denise asked.

“Fine,” Taylor said simply. “He had fun.”

Denise looked at Taylor carefully. Something was obviously bothering him.

“Are you okay?”

Taylor glanced away. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay.”

Without saying anything else, he followed Mitch outside.

With the evening finally winding down, Denise volunteered to help Melissa in the kitchen after dinner, putting the leftovers away. The kids were watching a movie in the living room, sprawled all over the floor, while Mitch and Taylor straightened things up on the deck out back.

Denise was rinsing the silverware before putting it into the dishwasher. From where she was standing she could see the two men outside, and she watched them, her hands unmoving under the water.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Melissa said, startling her.

Denise shook her head, returning to the task at hand. “I’m not sure a penny will cover it.”

Melissa picked up some empty cups and brought them to the sink. “Listen, I’m sorry if I put you on the spot during dinner.”

“No, I’m not mad about that. You were just having fun. We all were.”

“But you’re worried anyway?”

“I don’t know . . . I guess . . .” She glanced at Melissa. “Maybe a little. He’s been quiet all night.”

“I wouldn’t read too much into that. I know he really cares about you. He lights up whenever he looks your way-even after I teased him.”

She watched as Taylor pushed in the chairs around the table.

Denise nodded. “I know.”

Despite her answer, she couldn’t help but wonder why that suddenly didn’t seem to be enough. She sealed the Tupperware bowl with a lid.

“Did Mitch say anything to you about anything that happened while they were out front with the kids?”

Melissa looked at her curiously. “No. Why?”

Denise put the salad in the refrigerator. “Just curious.”

Daddy.

So are you gonna marry this girl or what?

As he nursed his beer, the words continued to echo through Taylor’s mind.

“Hey, why so glum?” Mitch asked, filling a plastic garbage bag with the remains from the table.

Taylor shrugged. “Just preoccupied. That’s all.”

“About what?”

“Just work stuff. I’m just trying to figure out everything I’ve got to do tomorrow,” Taylor answered, telling only the partial truth. “Since I’ve been spending so much time with Denise, I’ve let my business slide a little. I’ve got to get back into it.”

“Haven’t you been heading in every day?”

“Yeah, but I don’t always stay all day. You know how it is. You do that long enough and little problems start cropping up.”

“Anything I can do? Check how your orders are coming, things like that?”

Taylor placed most of his orders through the hardware store.

“No, not really, but I’ve got to get it squared away. One thing I’ve learned is that when things go wrong, they go wrong in a hurry.”

Mitch hesitated as he put a paper cup in the bag, feeling a strange sense of d#233;j#224; vu.

The last time Taylor had used that expression, he’d been dating Lori.

Thirty minutes later Taylor and Denise were driving home, Kyle between them, a scene that had been repeated dozens of times. Yet now, for the first time, there was an air of tension in the truck without a reason that could be easily explained by either of them. But it was there, and it had kept them quiet enough that Kyle had already fallen asleep, lulled by the silence.

For Denise, the sensation was a strange one. She kept thinking about everything that Melissa had told her, her statements rattling through her brain like senseless, ricocheting pinballs. She didn’t feel like talking, but then Taylor didn’t, either. He’d been strangely distant, and that only intensified her feelings. What was supposed to have been a casual, friendly night out with friends, Denise knew with certainty had become something far more important than that.

Okay, so Taylor had almost choked when Melissa had asked if marriage was in the plans. That would have surprised anyone, especially the way Melissa had blurted it out, wouldn’t it? In the truck she tried to convince herself of that, but the more she thought about it, the more unsure she felt. Three months isn’t a long time when a person is young. But they weren’t kids. She was pushing thirty, Taylor was six years older than that. They’d already had a chance to grow up, to figure out exactly who they were, to know what they wanted in their lives. If he wasn’t as serious about their future together as he seemed to be, then why the full-court press these last couple of months?

All I know is that one day they seemed to be doing fine and the next thing you knew, it was over. I never did understand why.

That was also bothering her, wasn’t it? If Melissa didn’t understand what had happened with Taylor’s other relationships, Mitch probably didn’t, either. Did that mean that Taylor didn’t understand it?

And if so, was the same thing going to happen to her?

Denise felt a knot form in her stomach, and she glanced at Taylor uncertainly. From the corner of his eye, Taylor caught her glance and turned to face her, seemingly oblivious of her thoughts. Outside the car window, the trees whistling past were black and clumped together, solidified into a single image.

“Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah, I did,” Denise answered quietly. “I like your friends.”

“So how did you and Melissa get along?”

“We got along fine.”

“One thing you’ve probably already learned is that she’ll say the first thing that pops into her head, no matter how ridiculous it is. You just have to ignore her sometimes.”

His comment did nothing for her nerves. Kyle mumbled incoherently as he adjusted himself a little lower in the seat. Denise wondered why the things Taylor hadn’t said suddenly seemed more important than the things he had.

Who are you, Taylor McAden?

How well do I really know you?

And where, most important, are we going from here?

She knew he would answer none of those things. Instead she drew a deep breath, willing herself to keep her voice steady.

“Taylor . . . why didn’t you tell me about your father?” she asked.

Taylor’s eyes widened just a little. “My father?”

“Melissa told me that he died in a fire.”

She saw his hands tighten on the wheel.

“How did that come up?” he asked, his tone changing slightly.

“I don’t know. It just did.”

“Was it her idea to bring it up or yours?”

“Why does that matter? I don’t remember how it came up.”

Taylor didn’t respond; his eyes were locked on the road ahead. Denise waited before realizing he wasn’t going to answer her original question.

“Did you become a fireman because of your father?”

Shaking his head, Taylor expelled a sharp breath. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Maybe I can help-”

“You can’t,” he said, cutting her off, “and besides, it doesn’t concern you.”

“It doesn’t concern me?” she asked in disbelief. “What are you talking about? I care about you, Taylor, and it hurts me to think that you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s wrong.”