Just for Now by Rosalind James Page A

riding the pine.”
    “Tough, then,” Jenna said sympathetically. “To have to teach
him all your special tricks. Those boots in the ruck, and everything.”
    Finn chuckled. “Nah, Ben’s never going to be the hard man. Not
enough edge to him. You’ll see.”
     
    Jenna dashed the last few yards through the rain that had
done a good job of drenching her during the run home. She reached the gate and
opened it as a tall man in his early twenties hopped out of a sports car that
had pulled up to the curb.
    “Morning,” he called, pulling his Blues beanie down over his
mop of blond hair and jumping up the step to join her. “I’m Ben. Here for
Finn.”
    “Come on out of the rain, then.” Jenna ran up the stone
steps with Ben close behind. Once they were under the shelter of the villa’s
broad front porch, she pulled out her house key and opened the door. He reached
for it and held it for her, shutting it after them.
    “Phew. That blew up fast,” she laughed as she hung her rain
jacket on the hook, toed off her shoes and pulled off her soaked socks. “Hang
on a second. I’ll get Finn for you.”
    Before she had a chance to go looking for him, Finn came out
of the kitchen, still munching a slice of toast and taking a final mouthful of
tea. “Morning. You’re early.”
    “Didn’t want to be late,” Ben answered with a cheeky grin,
“and have you going crook at me.”
    “Too right. And Jenna. You should’ve driven the kids.” Finn
frowned at her.
    “No worries. They didn’t get wet. The rain started on my way
back.”
    “That’s what I meant,” he said in exasperation. “You
should’ve driven them.”
    “I didn’t melt. Just a bit bedraggled, that’s all.” She took
the empty mug from him. “Have a good day. Nice to meet you, Ben.” She gave him
a smile and headed for the kitchen. No point in changing out of her running
capris. She’d towel them off as best she could, then clean the kitchen and
start the washing before she went on her real run. It was likely to rain on her
again anyway.
     
    “Right. Let’s go, then. Thanks for the lift.” Finn finished
tying his shoes and picked up his duffel from its spot beside the door.
    “That’s the nanny, eh,” Ben said bemusedly as they headed
down the steps. “Crikey, she’s fit. You should’ve warned me. I’d’ve combed my
hair. Good thing you aren’t married, though. The missus would never go for
that.”
    Finn stared balefully at him through the rain, but didn’t
comment until they were in the car.
    “Jenna’s a professional,” he said at last. “She’s a trained
teacher. Bloody good cook, too. I’m lucky to have her.”
     
    “Mind if I come in for a minute?” Ben asked when they
approached the house again that afternoon. “Haven’t seen your kids for a while.
I could say hello.”
    “My kids. Right. Didn’t know you were so fond of them.” But
Finn led Ben up the steps to the front door again.
    The house was quiet as Finn dumped his duffel by the door.
“Jenna!” he called. Shrugged. “Maybe she’s out getting the kids now. Come on
into the kitchen, have a cuppa.”
    They walked into the warm room and saw Jenna, her back to
them, hips swinging back and forth, body bopping to an invisible beat while she
worked at the kitchen bench. Finn stepped up behind her and tapped her gently
on the shoulder. She whirled in alarm, an icing-covered spatula still in her
hand. The implement landed squarely on his warmup jacket, leaving a messy smear
of white.
    She pulled the headphones from her ears, laughing in dismay.
“Oh, no! What a mess. That’s what you get for sneaking up on me, though.”
    She reached for her hip and turned off her iPod. “Hi, Ben.
You guys caught me dancing. How embarrassing. Here, Finn, let me clean you up.”
She wet a paper towel at the sink and moved close to wipe the white icing off
his chest. Then stopped abruptly, flushing, and handed him the towel. “Maybe
you’d better do it. Or, better yet, throw