A Weaver Proposal. Allison Leigh

nodded toward Tabby. “Not that it’s any business of mine, but he seems more suited to her. Age-wise, that is.”

      “You think Tabby and I are—”

      “Aren’t you?”

      The corner of his lips jerked a little, then settled into a curl. “I’ve known her since she was in diapers.”

      Sydney gave him a derisive look. “Is that supposed to excuse robbing the cradle?”

      He gave a bark of laughter. “Tab is Evan’s little sister. Evan’s married to my cousin, Leandra. They’re not here today.” He jabbed his fork in the direction of his mother and the high chair–corralled baby beside her. “But that’s their youngest kid, Katie. And Justin—” his fork air-jabbed the young man next to Tabby “—and Tabby have been friends since their sandbox days.”

      Then he lowered his fork and ran his gaze over her in a way that had her nerve endings heating up all over again. “Trust me, cupcake.” His voice dropped a notch. “I like my women all grown-up.”

      The pizza she’d swallowed seemed suddenly stuck like a lump in her throat. It took every inch of effort she possessed to smile casually. “I guess I misunderstood.”

      His eyebrow peaked, making him look devilish. “You think?”

      She grabbed her water glass and downed the remainder of its contents. “I’m not going to apologize again,” she said under her breath. “You deliberately misled me yesterday. And you’ve been needling me since.”

      “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re carrying around a pincushion of needles of your own, though God knows where you have the room in that dress you’re wearing.” He looked over at his mother when she called his name and asked him to bring in the rest of the pizza.

      Startled, Sydney looked over the long tabletop. “There’s more?”

      Maggie laughed outright. “There’s always more, Sydney. One thing this family has learned how to do right together is eat.” Then she asked, “Tara, do you still need me to help out at the shop tomorrow?”

      Sydney tried not to pay too much notice as Derek left the table, but it was hard considering his arm brushed against hers as he did so. She was positive he’d done it deliberately.

      “If it’s not too much trouble,” Tara was saying. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to hire more help whether I want to or not.”

      “You have that much business?” The second the question left her lips, Sydney realized how it might sound.

      But Tara was just smiling ruefully. “Surprising, I know. But Weaver draws more people than you would think just from driving down our little old Main Street. I’m open seven days a week now, and—”

      “And it’s too damn many hours,” her husband, Axel, said flatly. He was holding a squirming little boy who was clearly anxious to get down from his daddy’s lap.

      “So speaks the King.” Tara held out her hands. “Give me Aidan.” Her husband immediately handed over the tot.

      “Well, darling,” Jaimie inserted, “you are pregnant again. And getting more so by the day.”

      Derek had returned and dumped three more enormous pizza boxes on top of the empties. Sydney watched with some amazement as eager hands reached out and threw them open, passing the food all over again.

      “Thought you already ran an advertisement for some help,” Jaimie said.

      Tara shrugged. “I did a few months ago. No takers, though.”

      “Hire Sydney,” Derek said, sitting down once more beside her. “She was just telling Mom she needed something to fill her time.”

      Sydney’s jaw loosened a little.

      He gave a little frown that she didn’t buy for a second. “But then working in a local shop might be too tame for you, with your love of racehorses and ahhht.”