Storybook Romance. Lissa Manley

then, Mr. Nicky, I guess you’re stuck with me.” Allison moved over. “How about we sit next to each other and you can tell me what you liked most about Mike and Mary Anne.”

      “Okay,” Nicky said. “That was a good story.”

      She reached out and lifted Nicky onto the bench to sit next to her. Her arm stayed around his little shoulders and she bent her head near to listen to him while he chattered on about the story, his face glowing.

      As he waited to order, Sam watched as Allison set paper plates in front of each child with her free hand—multitasking at its finest—and then added a slice of pizza. She even managed to get a napkin on both kids’ laps, although Sam knew it wouldn’t stay on Nicky’s for long; his rambunctious son was usually up and running around the dinner table too much to keep anything on his lap.

      Viv and Rosie chatted about Viv’s bracelet, and while Viv was obviously a really nice young woman, Sam’s eyes kept returning to Allison, to the way the setting sun gilded her cheeks and made her blue eyes glow like a beautiful Caribbean sea. He found himself fascinated with the way she interacted with Nicky, as if he were the most wonderful, interesting little boy in the world, which, of course, he was.

      He ordered from Velma, then waited by the window for the food. Once again his gaze was drawn to Allison, who was now playing thumb war with Nicky. Nicky’s laughter rang out as he “won” the round, and then he begged Allison to play another match. With a patient smile, Allison obliged.

      “Hey, Coach Franklin.”

      Sam turned. Rory Liston and Scott Martin, two members of the basketball team, stood there, soft drinks in hand. The Everything was something of a teen hangout. “Hey, guys.”

      “You bring your kids here for dinner?” Rory asked, shoving his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.

      “Yeah, they love going out to eat,” Sam replied.

      “I love the burgers here,” Scott said. “Fries are pretty good, too.” Scott wasn’t as tall as Rory and was a bit huskier. He wore his blond hair in a buzz cut, and he always wore a baseball cap, backward most of the time.

      “Yeah,” Rory said, jabbing an elbow in Scott’s side. “You always eat all of them.” The two boys had grown up together and were as close as brothers.

      “You’re the one who needs all the grease in them,” Scott said. Rory was a tall kid and as skinny as a beanpole.

      “He’ll fill out eventually,” Sam said. “I was pretty lean in my youth, too.”

      “Yeah, my dad said he was as skinny as me when he was my age,” Rory said. “And he’s all muscle now.” Rory’s dad, Vern, had been on the Bygones police force for years, but had lost his job recently due to budget cuts brought on when Randall Manufacturing had closed its doors. Sam had a feeling Rory was struggling with more than just his falling grades, which was one of the reasons Sam hoped Rory would be willing to attend Allison’s creative-writing workshops.

      “Coach, your order’s ready,” Velma said. She had a colorful scarf wrapped around her neck and some kind of feather thingies hanging in her long hair, which she had pulled back at her nape.

      “Great.” Sam picked up the fries and drinks. “Thanks, Velma.” He turned his gaze to the two boys. “You two stay out of trouble, all right?”

      Both Rory and Scott nodded. “Sure thing, Coach.”

      Man, he never got tired of being called Coach. He loved working with kids, influencing them to make good choices. “See you at practice tomorrow after school.” Sam carried the order back to the table and set it down. “Fry alert,” he announced.

      With happy squeals, the kids dug in.

      Sam scrunched in next to Allison, his leg lightly touching hers under the small table that was obviously designed for four regular-size people and not four plus one six-foot-three-inch man. She didn’t try to scoot away, so he tried not to let her proximity get to him. However, obviously Allison wasn’t a kid anymore; she was an attractive woman. He’d have to have ice water in his veins not to notice that.

      Nicky and Rosie kept eating the fries with gusto, holding up each one before they ate it to compare the length; it was a game they played in search of the longest one.

      Sam helped himself to a slice of pizza, having to touch Allison’s arm in the process, and his breathing hitched just a bit at the contact. To cover up his reaction, he started munching on his pizza.

      “Do you ever feed them?” Allison said with a slanted eyebrow, her eyes on the fry-eating machines.

      “Once in a while, when I remember,” he quipped before he popped a fry in his mouth.

      “These are yummy,” Rosie said, dipping a fry in ketchup, then gobbling it up.

      “Okay, I have to try one of these delish fries,” Allison said, picking one up. She held it up. “Okay, kids, with ketchup or without?”

      “With!” Nicky and Rosie said in unison.

      Allison dipped and then made a big show of eating.

      “Sam, you might have to get another order,” Viv said.

      “I was just thinking the same thing,” he replied. He eyed the pizza. “Doesn’t look like they’re interested in that right now.” He got up and ordered some more fries.

      The lively conversation kept up while everyone ate, and Sam found himself very conscious of the woman sitting next to him. Allison laughed and joked around with the kids, and had them both giggling with her stories about Sam when he was a teenager.

      Toward the end of the meal, she gently wiped Nicky’s pizza hands and ketchup-ringed mouth with a napkin. Sam watched, impressed; her motherly streak with someone else’s children was something to behold.

      When the pile of fries and three-quarters of the pizza were gone and the kids were relatively clean, he, Viv and Allison started clearing the table. Nicky and Rosie chased each other, pretending they were wild puppies.

      Allison looked at them. “It would be a really nice night for a trip to Bronson Park to play, don’t you think?” Bronson Park, named for the two Bronson brothers who’d founded the town, was located just behind the Everything and had an old-fashioned gazebo, playground, basketball court and a pond complete with numerous duck families.

      “I love the park!” Nicky said between play woofs as he ran by. “Let’s go!”

      “Me, too.” Rosie clapped as she ran by, hot on Nicky’s heels, Viv’s bracelet glinting on her upper arm. “I want to swing.”

      “Well, then, let’s go,” Allison said. “If it’s okay with your dad.”

      He looked at his watch; the twins’ bedtime was creeping up fast. “I don’t know...”

      “Tired kids are happy kids, and that makes for a happy parent,” Allison said. “Besides, after a long day at work, I could use a turn on the swings myself. How about you, Viv?”

      “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to take a rain check,” Viv replied. “I have some paperwork at home I have to get done tonight.”

      Allison’s eyes widened. “Oh, okay.” After an awkward pause, she regarded Sam, her hands shoved into the back pockets of her jeans. “So. How about it?” Her gaze strayed to the human puppies. “Looks like the kids could use a trip to the park to burn off some energy.”

      He paused for a second. He usually stuck pretty close to the children’s schedule when he had them, firmly believing a strict routine was better for everyone. But they were pretty wound up right now, and some extra playtime would probably mean a quieter night later on. Was there a better reason for accepting Allison’s invitation?

      “Sure, we can go for a while,” he said, telling himself his agreement was all about the kids having fun and tuckering themselves out.

      And