Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)(43)

“I have five sisters,” the kid on the end said. Most of the boys at the table groaned.

“That’s a lot of girls,” Raoul told him. “Are you the youngest?”

“No. I’m in the middle. They’re everywhere. My dad built me a tree house so I’d have my own man cave.”

“Good for you.”

During the conversation, Raoul had been watching Peter. The boy finished his lunch without saying much. Just when Raoul was about to suggest they head to the playground, Peter spoke.

“My parents are dead,” he said, staring at his plate. “They died in a car crash two years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Raoul told him.

Peter shrugged. “It was bad, but stuff like that happens.”

Peter’s friend Drew leaned toward Raoul. “He was in the car when it happened. He was there when they died.”

Raoul swore silently. What a nightmare for the kid. He had no idea what to say.

Peter looked at him. “You really think I’ll get big enough to play football in high school?”

“I really do. In fact, let’s go practice some drills right now.”

Peter’s sad face slowly transformed into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

The boys all stood and grabbed their trays. After dumping them on the counter by the kitchen, they ran for the door leading outside. Peter walked more slowly than the rest.

Raoul caught up with him. “I’m sorry about your folks,” he said. “I never knew my dad. I lost my mom when I was a little older than you. It’s hard.”

Peter nodded without speaking.

Raoul wanted to give him a hug, but he knew there was a firm “no touching” policy at the school. Not knowing what else to do, he vowed to pay attention to the kid whenever he was around, then asked, “Want to learn how to throw farther than everyone else?”

“You can teach me that?” Peter asked eagerly.

“You bet.”

“All right!” The boy laughed and ran toward his friends.

Maybe, for today, it was enough.

“YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN more clear about the food,” Pia said as she scooped kung pao chicken onto her plate, then licked her finger where a little sauce had dribbled.

Raoul sat across from her at the small table in his kitchen. “Because then you would have jumped right on the pregnancy-buddy wagon?”

“Absolutely. I know it’s not sophisticated or elegant, but offer me a snack and I’m practically your slave.”

“Good to know.”

Humor danced in his dark eyes. Humor that made her want to smile. Of course looking at his face, or any other part of him, made her want to do other things, too. Like ask him to get naked. Or let her get naked. Or touch her. Although she really appreciated the theory of “one last fling,” making love with Raoul had left her hungry for more.

Even if he hadn’t been very explicit on the temporary nature of their relationship, she couldn’t have asked for a replay. Not with the embryos hanging on by a thread…or whatever it was they hung on by. Maybe in a few weeks, when the doctor said everything was normal, she could consider doing the wild thing. But until then, she was only thinking pure and maternal thoughts.

“This may be my last Chinese for the duration,” she said, scooping up a mouthful of fried rice on her fork. “I’ve been reading one of those pregnancy books and I have to watch my salt intake. I also have to give up alcohol, caffeine, over-the-counter medicines and in six or seven months, my ankles. Babies are really demanding.”

He grinned. “Don’t they also say it’s worth it?”

“Sure, but that’s a whole lot easier to write than live. And that’s for later. Right now I’m living in month one of being pregnant. Assuming I am.”

“Any symptoms?”

“Just the voices.”

He grinned.

She picked up an egg roll. “Nothing, really. They say some women can tell the second they conceive, but I guess I’m not that sensitive. Probably a good thing. I have a feeling I’m going to make myself crazy worrying as it is.”

She glanced around at the modest house. The kitchen had been updated with new appliances and countertops, but nothing about the space especially screamed “famous sport celebrity abode.”

“What was your place like in Dallas?” she asked.

“Big.”

“Two bedrooms? Five?”

“Three stories and some rooms I never saw.” He shrugged. “It was more an investment property.”

She tried to remember what else she’d read about him. “Did you move to Los Angeles a while ago?”

He nodded. “About a year after I got married. When we split up, I moved back to Dallas but never settled. Then I retired and here I am.”

She wondered about the ex-Mrs. Moreno but wasn’t sure she was comfortable asking questions. From what she could see, Raoul was annoyingly close to perfect. Why would any woman let him go?

Maybe it hadn’t been her choice. Maybe he’d dumped her.

“Are you going to buy a house in town?” she asked.

“I’ve been looking around,” he admitted. “There’s no hurry. This place works fine.”