One In A Million. Susan Mallery

a different line of thought. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. Or you can simply run screaming from the room and I’ll get the message.”

      He looked surprised, and not exactly comfortable with the idea. Of course. He was a sexy, successful, single guy. Men like that didn’t hang out with three kids and a single mom.

      Heat crawled up her cheeks and she had a bad feeling there was a blush to match. “Never mind,” she said brightly. “It was a silly suggestion.”

      She started toward the closed door that led to the kitchen, but before she’d gone more than two steps, he called her back.

      “I would like to join you,” he said.

      She eyed him. “Why?”

      He smiled and her internal organs did a couple of synchronized swimming moves.

      “Because you asked and it sounds like fun.”

      “I’m not sure about fun, but I can promise loud.”

      “Close enough.”

      Now that he’d accepted, she felt foolish about her invitation, but it was too late to retract it. She moved to the table and collected the tray, then tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen.

      “Brace yourself,” she said and pushed open the door with her shoulder.

      All three of her boys were talking at once. They barely noticed her, but the second Nash walked in behind her three pairs of blue eyes widened and three mouths snapped closed.

      “This is Mr. Harmon,” she said as she put the tray on the counter.

      “Nash,” he said easily.

      “Okay. Nash. These are my boys. You’ve already met Brett, who is rapidly becoming a macho tool guy. And these two—” She walked to the table and put her hands on their shoulders. “—are my twins. Jason and Adam. Say hi to Nash.”

      The twins offered an enthusiastic greeting, but Brett didn’t say much. His expression turned wary and Stephanie wondered if he was about to say something that would make her cringe.

      “We’re having chocolate chip cookies, grapes and string cheese,” she said quickly in an effort to forestall Brett. “You’re welcome to that or the shortbread.”

      “How about shortbread and grapes,” he said.

      “No problem.”

      As she bustled around the kitchen, he pulled out one of the two empty chairs. Brett sat across from the twins, which meant Nash would be across from her. It was only a snack, she told herself. She could handle it. At least she hoped she could.

      As she worked, she tried not to notice the silence. Her normally ten-thousand-words-a-minute kids were all staring at Nash. But before she could think of something to ease the escalating tension, Nash broke the ice himself.

      He leaned toward Jason and Adam. “I’m a twin,” he said.

      The boys grinned. “No way,” Jason said.

      “Not identical, like you two. Kevin and I don’t look very much alike. But we’re still twins.”

      “Cool.” Adam offered a shy smile.

      Nash turned to Brett. “I heard school is out this week. Are you excited about summer?”

      Stephanie saw her oldest wrestle with his innate excitement and his need to be standoffish.

      “Summer’s good,” Brett said at last.

      “There’s a community pool,” Jason said. “We go swimming every week. And there’s sleepover camp at the end of summer. And Adam and me are gonna play volleyball at the park.”

      “Sounds like fun,” Nash said.

      “Brett’s seriously into baseball,” Stephanie volunteered as she carried a plate to the table, then returned to collect the coffee. “His team made the city finals.”

      “What position do you play?” Nash asked.

      “First base.”

      She could see he was itching to say more, but for some reason didn’t want to. As if wanting to talk to Nash was a bad thing.

      Stephanie sighed. Brett considered himself the “man of the family.” He took his responsibilities seriously. While she appreciated the effort, sometimes she wished she could convince him that it was far more important to her for him just to be a kid.

      Conversation flowed for about twenty minutes until she glanced at the empty plates in front of her three. “Looks like you’re done eating to me. Guess what comes next?”

      Adam smiled shyly at Nash. “We do our homework now.”

      “It’s when I used to do it, too,” he admitted. “I liked every subject but English. What about you?”

      “I like ’em all,” Jason announced and pushed back his chair.

      He carried his plate to the counter by the sink, then gave Stephanie a hug. She hugged him back. As she felt his small back and warm, tugging hands, she reminded herself that jerk or not, Marty had done one thing right. He’d given her these boys. They were worth all the heartache and suffering she’d endured along the way.

      When all three of them had trooped out of the kitchen, she turned to the table. Nash would go now, she thought. Which was fine. She’d tortured him with her family long enough. Whatever feelings of loneliness he might have had would have been erased. No doubt he would be grateful for some solitude.

      “Good cookies,” he said as he rose.

      “Thanks. I won’t tell you how much butter is in each batch.”

      “I appreciate that.”

      He carried his plate and mug over to the sink, which was a bit of a surprise. Then, before she could say anything, he turned on the water and began to rinse them off.

      Stephanie thought about rubbing her eyes. She had to be having some kind of hallucination. A man? Doing work? Not in her world.

      “You don’t have to do that,” she said, trying not to sound stunned.

      “I don’t mind helping.”

      As he spoke, he collected the boys’ plates and rinsed those off, too. Then he opened the dishwasher and actually put the plates inside. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t think Marty had ever known where the dishwasher was, let alone what it was for.

      When Nash reached for the glasses, she came to her senses.

      “Hey, I’m the hired help around here, not you,” she said as she stepped in close and took the glass from him.

      Their fingers touched. Just for a second, but it was enough. Not only did she hear the faint ringing of bells, she would swear that she saw actual sparks arc between them. Holy wow. Sparks. She didn’t think that kind of stuff was possible after age thirty.

      Nash looked at her. His dark eyes seemed bright with what she wanted to say was passionate fire, but was probably the light from the overhead fixtures. Awareness rippled through her, sensitizing her skin and making her want to fling herself into his arms for a kiss that went on for at least six hours, following by mindless, intense sex. Right there, in front of the appliances.

      She swallowed and took a step back. Something was really wrong with her. Seasonal allergies? Too much television? Not enough? She felt soft and wet and achy inside. She felt unsettled. All of this was so out of the ordinary, so unexpected and so extreme that it would be really hilarious…if it weren’t so darned terrifying.

      

      Nash wondered if Stephanie really was issuing an invitation with her parted lips and wide eyes or if that was just wishful thinking on his part. No doubt the latter, he told himself as he heard footsteps on the stairs.

      The