Read Calamity Mom for Free Online Page B

living natural resources.”
    Ben grinned from ear to ear. “You tell him, Mom!”
    “I am not your mother,” she said shortly, and then groaned and held her head.
    “She’s much too young to be anyone’s mother,” Faulkner agreed, and there was, just briefly, a wistful look about him. He quickly erased it and got to his feet. “I’ve got to go and collect Marie. We have a luncheon engagement. Ben…”
    “I can stay with Mom. Can’t I?”
    “I’m not—!”
    “—your mother! I know, I know!” Ben said chuckling. “Can I stay with you?”
    “She’s not able to look after you,” Faulkner said.
    “I want to look after her,” Ben replied solemnly. “She certainlyneeds looking after, and her friends are going sailing. I don’t think she can go sailing, do you?”
    Shelly swallowed and made a moaning sound.
    “Good point. Is it all right?” Faulkner asked Shelly.
    “Just as long as he doesn’t talk too loud,” she agreed.
    “Don’t give her any trouble,” Faulkner cautioned the boy.
    “Isn’t Marie going back home today?” Ben asked with glee.
    “She’s leaving with her father. If he goes today, so will she, I imagine.”
    So they weren’t sharing a room, Shelly thought. She was surprised that a woman of Marie’s age would travel with her father, especially when she was apparently all but engaged to Faulkner.
    “Marie’s father is one of the bankers at the convention,” Ben explained. “We flew down together.”
    “None of that is of any interest to Ms. Astor, I’m sure,” Faulkner said. “Stay out of trouble. We should be back around three o’clock.”
    “Okay, Dad.”
    Faulkner wandered off, absently thinking that he’d much rather be on the beach with Ben and Shelly than sitting around talking business. But that was part of his job.
    * * *
    S HELLY AND B EN LEFT the beach half an hour later and after two pain tablets and another icy drink, Shelly felt well enough to go fishing off the pier with Ben.
    “Isn’t this fun?” she asked on a sigh, lying back on the boards with her eyes closed and the fishing pole held loosely in her hand. “I’ll bet that fishing concession makes a fortune without selling a single worm.”
    “Your hook isn’t baited,” Ben muttered. “That’s not fair.”
    “I don’t want to catch a fish, for heaven’s sake! I just want to lie here and drink in the smell of sea air.”
    “Well, I want to catch something. Not that I expect to,” he said miserably when he pulled up his hook and it wasbare, again. The minnows under the pier kept taking the bait in tiny nibbles and missing the hook.
    “Don’t fall in,” she said firmly.
    “Okay.”
    The sound of footsteps didn’t bother her, because there were plenty of other tourists dropping lines off the pier. But these came close. She looked up and there was Ben’s father, in jeans, a gray knit designer shirt and sneakers. He didn’t even look like the same man.
    “Catch anything?” he asked.
    “Some sleep,” Shelly remarked.
    “I’m catching cold,” Ben grumbled as he baited his hook for the fourth time.
    Faulkner’s narrow silver eyes slid over Shelly’s trim figure in tight white jeans and a pink sleeveless blouse tied at the midriff. Her glorious hair was tamed into a French braid and even without makeup, her face was lovely. He couldn’t stop looking at her.
    She flushed a little and sat up. That level stare was making her self-conscious. “Since you’re back, I’ll leave Ben with you. I have to try to find Nan and the others.”
    “I thought they went sailing.”
    “They did,” she agreed. “But Nan’s a much worse sailor than I am. I expect she’s lost breakfast and lunch by now, and is praying for land.”
    He reached down a big, strong hand and helped her up. Oddly his fingers were callused; her fingers lingered against the tough pads on his and she looked up at him with kindled interest.
    “Your hands are callused,” she remarked.
    He smiled slowly, closing his