Darling obstacles Read Online Free

passion-filled evening with Francine excite him? he wondered. He should be feeling as blissfully free as a teenager with the family car and no curfew. But he didn't. He felt flat . . . and oddly lonely. He reached for his money clip. "Let me pay you in advance."
    Maggie shook her head. "Oh, no, Dr. Wilder. This doesn't count as baby-sitting. Tonight my kids are having their good friends over to spend the night with them.'' A slight breeze ruffled her hair and she smoothed her bangs back in place with her left hand.
    She was pretty, Greg mused, watching her. He'd always thought so. Lovely complexion, high cheekbones, cute upturned nose, and soft, well-shaped mouth. Why, even in those old clothes she was wearing she . . .
    Maggie was aware that he was staring at her and

    lowered her eyes, embarrassed. He had never looked so long and so hard at her. Lord, she knew she looked bad tonight, but she obviously looked even worse than she thought. The contrast between her and the elegant Francine clearly had stunned him. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. Maggie made a mental note to pitch her ancient clothes in the trash tonight.
    She knew he was staring at her, Greg realized as he saw her lower her eyes. And she was uncomfortable about it. Her rigid posture and clenched hands were proof of that. He immediately sought to put her at ease, saying the first thing that came into his head. "I see you still wear your wedding ring." He glanced down at his own ringless hand. "I, uh, stopped wearing mine a year ago." It had begun to feel strange, dating while wearing a wedding ring. When he'd finally accepted the fact that he was no longer a married man, he had removed his ring. But Maggie hadn't. Did that mean she still considered herself married to her dead husband? The notion disturbed him.
    Maggie was staring at the gold band on her finger and was about to comment when a sharp, impatient voice called "Greg!" from the car. Both Greg and Maggie glanced toward the sound to see Francine leaning out the window. "Greg!" she called again. "We're late enough as it is. By the time we get these kids back to your house and—"
    Greg stopped listening and looked at Maggie, his expression a combination of embarrassment and irritation. Suppose it were Maggie in his car, waiting for him? He couldn't imagine her behaving as peevishly as Francine. "Greg!" Francine's voice rose imperiously.
    "These kids happen to be my kids, Francine," Greg said as he strode to the car, his tone as sharp as hers. "And they're spending the night here." Wendy and Max were out of the car in a flash, running toward Maggie. The old brown teddy bear was tucked

    under Max's arm and Greg felt a sudden, sick pang of remorse. What kind of father was he anyway? Whacking a four-year-old, then dumping his kids for the night so he could wine, dine, and bed a bitch like Francine Gallier?
    Maggie had picked Max up, and his arms and legs were wrapped around her like a little monkey's. She was smiling as she carried him into her house, her one arm draped casually around Wendy's shoulders. Greg felt a crazy urge to follow them into the house. Not that he would ever make it inside, he told himself. He watched them enter the small frame duplex, noting bleakly that neither the children nor Maggie had cast a backward glance or called good-bye to him.
    When Maggie answered the ring of the doorbell seven minutes later, she was astonished to find Greg Wilder at her door again.
    He gave her a rather sheepish smile. "I'm sorry to disturb you again, Maggie, but may I use your telephone?" He half-expected her to refuse and point out the phone booth at the corner of the street. But she paused only a moment before replying, "Of course. This way, Dr. Wilder."
    She led him into the kitchen and pointed to the white wall phone, immensely relieved that the dinner dishes were done and put away. She asked no questions, but he gave her an explanation anyway. "I have to call Paula. She was going to