Chapter Six
Dan cursed his big gob as he walked back down the narrow hallway to the sitting room.
That was the second flirty comment he’d made to Anna.
The first, it depends on who’s giving me the come-on, had sunk without a trace.
This one had blown up in his face. Which kind of served him right, considering the conversations he’d had with both Pete and himself.
Crazy to start anything . . . she needs steady, not casual.
Well, at least now it didn’t matter what he or Pete thought.
Anna had solved the issue of his rather unexpected attraction to her.
She wasn’t interested. The look of panic on her face when he’d mentioned the date word had almost been comical, if it hadn’t been so sad.
She was clearly still mourning her husband.
Or, guess what, you tosser, maybe she doesn’t fancy you.
Plenty of women did, sure, but not the smart ones. They wanted more than a pretty face.
Speaking of pretty faces, Maisie turned round and grinned when he entered the living room.
‘Come and sit here.’ She pointed to the space next to her on the most luscious — hell, he sounded like a ponce saying that, but no other word would do — purple velvet sofa he’d ever seen.
‘Mum says we’re allowed on it only if we don’t have shoes on.
Or dirty clothes.’ She eyed his dark jeans.
‘You look clean.’ Her eyes dropped to his shoes.
‘But you can’t put your feet up like me. ’
God, she was funny. And bloody brilliant at taking him out of his head.
‘I don’t think my legs would go into that position.
’ Hers were tucked up under her like some bendy doll.
He hadn’t had flexibility like that since he’d turned ten.
‘So, what are you watching?’ The TV was on and Dan started to laugh when he recognised it.
‘Hey, it’s Scooby Doo. I always had a thing for Daphne.
’ Belatedly, he realised it wasn’t the right thing to say to a kid.
‘You fancied her?’
And yes, just his luck that Anna chose that moment to come into the room. The amusement lurking in those hazel eyes told him she’d heard the conversation. He cleared his throat and decided to own the embarrassment. ‘Yes. I guess you could say Daphne was my first big crush.’
Maisie of course went into peals of laughter. ‘But she’s a cartoon.’
‘Just because she’s a cartoon doesn’t mean she’s less deserving of being ogled.’ Nope, ogled wasn’t appropriate. ‘Of being admired,’ he corrected hastily.
‘You’re funny.’
He grinned back at her. ‘So I keep telling people. Hey, you mean good funny, yes? Not crazy, loopy-in-the-head funny?’
More giggles. Just as he was enjoying them though, he felt a sharp pang of regret. Why wasn’t he able to make Max laugh like this?
‘My first crush was Tarzan.’ Anna gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I know, so predictable.’
‘Hey, if you like your men big, muscular and able to swing through the trees, who am I to judge? Apparently I like women who’re danger-prone and wear purple headbands.’
Go on, he willed her, tell me you’re going to fish out your purple headband.
She smiled, but her next words were polite, not flirty. ‘Dinner is about ready. I hope you like lasagne. Or at least you don’t hate it. I should have checked with you whether there was anything you don’t eat.’
‘Tomatoes,’ he deadpanned, then laughed at her look of horror. ‘I’m kidding. Lasagne sounds good. Butting heads with Sid has given me an appetite.’
‘What does butting heads mean?’ Maisie asked as Anna led them through to the kitchen where she’d set the table. It gave him a kick to see the daisies sitting in pride of place in the middle, next to the bottle of wine.
‘Butting heads?’ Once again, Dan realised he should have been more careful with his language.
The fact that he, a parent himself, kept slipping up, no doubt told Anna everything she needed to know about how close he was to his son.
‘It means Mr Humphrey and I have been disagreeing about which play to choose for the Christmas performance.’
‘Mr Humphrey will want a boring play, ’cause that’s what he always chooses.
Even though Christmas is a happy time.’ Maisie chattered away as she climbed onto the chair, once again tucking her legs underneath her, presumably this time so she’d be at the right height.
‘Mum says it’s ’cause he’s sad since his wife died but my dad died and I’m not sad. Not anymore.’
‘Maisie,’ Anna murmured. ‘Would you please pass Dan the salad bowl?’
It was no doubt Anna’s way of trying to shut her daughter up, but as Maisie lifted the bowl and handed it to him, it was obvious she could multitask. ‘Mum is still sad sometimes.’ She looked up at Anna. ‘Aren’t you, Mum?’
An awkward silence followed, though the way Maisie was tucking into her lasagne suggested it was only the adults who felt it. ‘Sometimes.’ Anna accepted the salad bowl from him, and he could almost see her relief as she had something else to focus on.
‘You were sad you couldn’t go to those dance classes.’
‘Dance classes?’ Dan latched onto the opening like a drowning swimmer lunging for a rubber ring. ‘You like to dance?’
Anna’s cheeks flushed. ‘I can’t dance, but I’ve always fancied learning how to.’
‘She couldn’t go ’cause she didn’t have a partner,’ Maisie supplied.
‘Not true.’ Anna glanced at Maisie with an indulgent smile. ‘I couldn’t go because my partner declared ballroom dancing was uncool.’
‘It is. It’s what old people do.’ She licked at the sauce dripping down her chin, then turned those lively green eyes on him. ‘You’re old and you’re a man. You could be Mum’s partner.’
While Dan fought not to laugh, Anna started making strangling noises. ‘Are you okay?’
She gave him a wide-eyed look, like a deer caught in headlights, unsure whether to scarper, to hold its ground or to do a kamikaze run straight at the driver.
‘Sure.’ She coughed, and took a swig of wine.
‘My daughter’s just called you old, and then told you to take me to dance lessons. What could possibly be wrong?’
‘It’s not all lost.’ Dan felt the laughter bubble inside him.
Because he found Maisie hysterically funny.
Because he was enjoying sharing the moment with Anna.
Because, call him nuts, but he liked the idea of showing this woman, who’d suffered the ultimate heartbreak, some fun. ‘At least Maisie recognises I’m a man.’
Anna burst into laughter, which set him off, leaving Maisie to glance between the pair of them as if they were nuts. ‘Why are you laughing?’
Anna made a heroic effort to school her features. ‘You just called Mr Ramsey old, sweetie, and while he might be to you, he isn’t actually old at all.’ She narrowed her eyes and studied him. ‘I’d say he’s not far off my age.’
Maisie grinned. ‘Exactly. Old.’ She glanced back down at her plate and just when Dan thought she was going to focus on eating, she looked back up again. ‘Will you take Mum dancing then?’
* * *
Anna felt like banging her head on the table.
Talk about children dropping you in it. Yet Maisie, bless her, was looking at Dan in all innocence.
Maybe she was secretly trying to set her mum up, but Anna didn’t think Maisie was that aware.
She thought her daughter was genuinely trying to get her mum the dance lessons she’d wanted.
As for Dan, he looked commendably unruffled. She’d go as far as to say he appeared charmed by Maisie. ‘Sure, I’ll take her dancing.’
‘What?’ Trying to take control of this conversation was like trying to grab onto a medicine ball as it careered down a hill.
As Maisie punched the air in delight, Anna let out a garbled squeal. ‘Maisie, please, listen for a minute while you finish your tea.’ Maisie’s eyes swung her way, as did those of Dan; all dreamy blue and sparkling with humour.
‘That’s kind of you, Dan, but Maisie doesn’t realise you live in London.’
‘When are the classes? Maybe I can schedule my visits around them.’ He smiled beguilingly straight into her eyes. ‘It might be fun.’
‘Fun?’ she squeezed out through a throat tight with mortification. ‘We’re talking about learning the waltz and the tango in a school hall. And, because it’s our school hall and one of our teachers running it, I know exactly who’s attending. The average age is sixty.’
He shrugged. ‘According to your daughter, I should fit right in.’
Maisie beamed innocently at her. ‘See, Mum. You get to go dancing and I get to watch cartoons with Granny and Grandpa. It’s totally lit.’
Dear God, they were both conspiring against her. And because she so badly wanted to give in, even though she knew it wasn’t fair on him, she changed the subject to the only thing she knew would distract Maisie. ‘Who wants dessert?’
* * *
Anna said goodnight to Maisie and walked slowly down the stairs. To Dan. Who would be with her alone, in her front room. Without an eight-year-old chaperone.
There’d been an awkward moment when she’d told Maisie it was bedtime. Dan had immediately risen to his feet, saying he guessed it was time he made a move.
‘You don’t have to,’ she’d told him. Then wanted the ground to open up and swallow her during the following silence.
‘We can discuss the play,’ she’d tacked on hastily, hoping it sounded like she’d intended that all along, when in reality she’d been enjoying his company and not wanted it to end just yet.
He’d murmured, ‘Sounds good,’ and smiled like he’d meant it, but now she wasn’t sure if she was keeping him here under duress.
He didn’t look unhappy when she stepped into the front room. Sitting back on the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him, he looked right at home. It was she who felt out of place. ‘So.’ She stood awkwardly. ‘Did you want another drink?’
‘No, I’m good thanks. Another coffee and I won’t be able to sleep.’