For Love and Family by Victoria Pade

amount of volunteer work. The foundation is an umbrella that encompasses a fertility treatment center, counseling for childless couples, support groups, financial support for orphanages around the world and, of course, the adoption agency.”
    â€œI see,” Terese said as they came to the door of the office they needed.
    But before they went in, Hunter’s focus switched to his son. “Remember,” he warned. “Lunch at Pokey’s Pizza is only if you behave in here.”
    â€œNo shots, right?” Johnny said as if to make sure his father kept up his part of the deal, too.
    â€œI don’t think there will be any shots, no.”
    â€œOkay,” the little boy said. Then, in an aside to his father, he added, “And T’rese can’t see me in my underwear.”
    Terese fought a laugh but Hunter wasn’t as tactful. He didn’t bother to conceal his amusement. “Deal. I won’t let Terese see you in your underwear.”
    Then, to Terese as he opened the door, Hunter winked and said, “We wouldn’t want to ruin his suave, sophisticated image, after all.”
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    Johnny’s doctor’s visit went well even though the little boy had to have blood drawn. He sat on his father’s lap, held the hand Terese offered him, and beyond wide eyes and a quivering lip, he bravely managed not to cry.
    For that he was rewarded not only with the promised trip to Pokey’s Pizza, but Hunter allowed him the entire afternoon there.
    Of course, after they’d eaten lunch and the three of them began playing the arcade games, she could tell Hunter was enjoying himself as much as his son was.
    She was interested to see the interaction of father and son at play, though. She’d seen it at work the day before—the way Hunter had been willing to spare the time to teach Johnny small tasks, Hunter’s patience when the child hadn’t done something exactly right,letting Johnny know that he trusted him enough to give him responsibilities of his own. Now she was curious to see how the two related to each other away from the ranch work.
    Hunter didn’t disappoint her. His parenting techniques when it came to recreation were every bit as good. He managed to stimulate just the right amount of competitive spirit in Johnny while maintaining all the fun—just enough to make Johnny want to try hard to give his father a good game when it came to tossing the basketball or the softball. There was no question that Hunter was holding back but he didn’t let it show to his son, and the result was that Johnny’s self-esteem grew right before her eyes when the little boy ended up winning.
    Terese played a few games with her nephew but she wasn’t good at them and actually preferred watching.
    Watching Johnny.
    Or at least she told herself that she preferred watching Johnny. In truth, she did a whole lot of watching Hunter, too. And she definitely preferred that to tossing rings over pegs or trying to hit monster heads that popped up through holes in a table.
    But then how could she not, when he had on a beige Western shirt that glided over the muscles of his honed upper body, and a pair of khaki-colored jeans slung low on his hips and cupping his derriere just enough to accentuate how terrific it was every time he leaned over?
    And no matter how often she told herself it was Hunter’s parenting skills she was admiring, deep down she knew those parenting skills—no matter how good they were—weren’t the only things she appreciated as the afternoon passed.
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    It was nearly six by the time they returned to the ranch. Terese let Hunter and Johnny go into the house alone so she could have a few minutes in the cabin to freshen up before dinner.
    She’d worn jeans and a pale blue sweater set and she didn’t change clothes, but she did refresh her mascara and blush, and take her hair out of the rubber band that held it at her nape. Once