He stood. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To look at locations.”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
She laughed. “You’re excited about this.”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
She stood and slipped her hand in his. “Yes, you should be. You should be very excited about it. But the Cole Riley I met the first day wouldn’t have been.”
He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “That guy doesn’t exist anymore.”
SAVANNAH STOOD IN A FORMER PLAYGROUND IN South City overgrown with weeds and debris. Equipment—at least the equipment that still stood—was broken and long ago rusted.
Kids ran up and down the neighborhood, and some ran through the playground, but none stopped to play. Then again, why should they? There was nothing to play on. No swing sets, no basketball nets, and the grass had long ago stopped growing.
It made her sad, but also hopeful, because she saw the potential. Put in new sod, resurface the asphalt, put up some nets and new equipment and the myriad kids she saw running around here would have a place to come play.
“We used to live a couple blocks from here,” Cole said as he spun the rickety old merry-go-round, which let out a pathetic, rust-induced squeak.
“Some of the equipment that’s still standing is dangerous.”
He grinned. “Yeah. We’d spin around on this thing with our heads hanging off, going faster and faster until we got sick. Or we’d stand up and spin, then go flying off.”
She shook her head. “They make safer equipment these days.”
“So I’ve heard.” He looked at her. “What fun is that?”
“I’m sure kids find enough danger without playground equipment doing that for them.”
“If you say so. It’s more fun to live life on the edge.”
“You’re such a boy. I hope if I ever get married and have kids, I have all girls.”
He laughed. “There were plenty of girls taking that merry-go-round ride with us. Girls can be daredevils, too.”
She lifted her chin. “Mine won’t be.”
“Famous last words, Peaches. You’ll probably have six boys. All holy terrors.”
Her eyes widened. “That is not funny.”
“I have no doubt you could handle them. You handled me.”
Savannah’s heart twisted at the thought of six boys, and then her mind filled with visions of dark hair and stormy gray eyes—all little versions of Cole, with the two of them running roughshod over a herd of sons.
No. She had to get that thought out of her head. He wasn’t the marrying type and she’d already sworn she was never getting married and absolutely never having children. Double heartache wrapped in a messy, ugly black bow.
No, thank you.
So why was she suddenly thinking of kids and playgrounds and houses and families and Cole?
She met his gaze and he was giving her a look. “What?”
“You have this sappy, contented smile on your face.”
“I do not.”
“Thinking about those six little boys you’re going to have, no doubt.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Stop it. I’m not having kids.”
“Really. And why is that?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” She started toward the car.
He opened the door for her and she slid in. As they drove, she was aware of the silence but didn’t know what to say to change that.
The second playground was much the same as the first—in dire need of repair. At least she had something to talk about now as she envisioned bright playground equipment and a swarm of kids enjoying the renewal of the park.
“This is such a great idea, Cole.”
He nodded. “I’m eager to get started. How long do you think it’ll take to do the paperwork?”
“Not long. Setting up the foundation is merely a formality. I’ll be sure to have Don make it a priority.”
“Thanks.”
They looked at a few other locations where there were no parks, but it was obvious they were needed.
“So, are you afraid of kids?”
She jerked her head in his direction. “What? No, I’m not afraid of kids. What gave you that idea?”
“The horrified look on your face when I teased you about having six boys?”
She disguised her discomfort at his bringing the topic up again with a laugh. “Oh, that. I think it was more the idea of having six sons. I love children.”
“Good to know.” He turned and headed back to the car.
“Why?” she asked after they’d gotten in.
“Why what?”
“You said it was good to know that I liked children.”
“Oh. I want you to work on this foundation with me. If you hate kids, it wouldn’t be much fun for you.”
“I’d love to work on this with you. I want to see these parks completed and filled with children playing.”
“Great.”
There was something he wasn’t saying. She wished she knew what it was. But she really wanted that topic closed, so she wasn’t going to ask.
“Since there’s a home game Sunday, we’re going to my aunt and uncle’s bar after the game,” he said. “There’s a party there to watch Mick’s game that night.”