The Mummy Proposal. Cathy Gillen Thacker

to do the same. The boy came around to the other side.

      It seemed being in the same boat had forged a bond between the two, Brooke noted. Realizing a first tentative step toward Landry’s future had been made, she smiled. Maybe Nate was smarter about all this than she had realized ….

      “Because the place is too big and too quiet.” Hands clenched nervously, Landry sat down, too.

      “It feels like we’re in a hotel—only we’re the only ones here,” Cole acknowledged with a comically exaggerated shiver. “Which is kind of spooky if you think about it too much.”

      Ten thousand square feet of space was overwhelming, Brooke agreed. Especially the way the residence was decorated now, with a postmodern edge and minimal furnishings. The only television was in the master bedroom, where Nate was sleeping, so she couldn’t even offer that as a distraction.

      “You boys have a big day tomorrow.” Both would be at summer camp all day. “I’ve got a lot on my schedule, too.”

      “Can we hang out here for a while?” Cole asked.

      Landry’s stomach grumbled loudly.

      Suddenly, the mom in her kicked in, and Brooke knew what was really keeping them awake. “You guys wait here,” she told them. “I’ll be right back.”

      NATE HAD JUST CLIMBED into bed when he heard the soft sound of footsteps in the hallway.

      He sat up, listening. It wasn’t his imagination. That last creak had been the back stairs! He clamped down on an oath. Certain Landry was running away again, Nate flung back the covers and padded soundlessly down the hall, in the direction of the escape route.

      But it wasn’t Landry he found standing in the bright light of the kitchen—it was Brooke.

      Clad in a snug-fitting tank top and yoga pants, her brown hair tousled, she was standing at one of the two big stainless steel refrigerators, staring thoughtfully at the contents.

      “I know,” Nate said. “I’ve got a little bit of everything in there.”

      She shot him a look over her shoulder, as at ease in his home as he wanted her to be. “And here I didn’t imagine you could cook,” she drawled.

      “I don’t. But I found out most of the women I’ve dated do, so it makes everyone happy if the fridge is well-stocked.”

      Brooke’s smile faded. “Right,” she murmured.

      The word had a wealth of undercurrents. “Meaning?” Nate prodded.

      Her lips curved upward even as the light faded from her eyes. She said in a low, cordial tone, “You have a reputation for making the women in your life very happy, while they are in your orbit.”

      Nate certainly tried. What point was there in spending time with someone unless it was a pleasurable experience? That didn’t mean, however, that he pretended something was going to work long term when it clearly wouldn’t.

      “I don’t fall in love easily.” Although not for lack of trying. He wanted to be married and have a family.

      She studied him as if trying to decide whether or not he was the womanizer some made him out to be, then brought out a bowl of fresh fruit, a loaf of artisan bread and a block of sharp cheddar. “Have you ever been in love?”

      Nate handed over the serving board and bread slicer. “Once, with Landry’s mother.”

      Brooke set to work preparing a snack, with the skill of a mom who spent a lot of time in the kitchen. “What happened to break you up? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

      Normally, Nate followed the gentleman’s rule and did not talk about his previous relationships with women. For some reason, this was different. He wanted Brooke to understand. “I was working really long hours, getting my company off the ground,” he admitted, moving restlessly about the sleek, utilitarian kitchen. “Seraphina was pretty involved in planning our wedding, and she had an old friend living in her building. Miles Lawrence was trying to make it as a stand-up comedian, and she went to as many of his appearances as she could. I didn’t worry about the amount of time they spent together. As it turns out, I should have,” Nate reflected ruefully. “She broke off our engagement to run away with him.”

      “And had a child,” Brooke interjected, perceptive as ever.

      Reluctantly, Nate met her eyes. “Some eight months later.”

      Her hand froze in midmotion. She stared at him, already doing the math. “Is it possible that Landry is yours?”

      Nate had been wondering the same thing. All he could go on was what he knew for sure. “The birth certificate lists Miles Lawrence as Landry’s father.”

      She went back to slicing up fruit and arranging it on a serving platter. “What about this Miles? Where is he?”

      Nate lounged against the counter and watched the competent motions of her dainty hands. “Jessalyn told me yesterday that he left Seraphina before the baby was born. Miles wanted to focus on building an act that revolved around being a single guy, one always in love with a woman he could never hope to get.”

      Brooke looked horrified. “Don’t tell me the man insisted he had to be chasing skirts to get material….”

      Nate folded his arms across his chest, sharing her disdain. “Apparently so. Anyway, Seraphina was still in love with him and hoped he would come around and change his mind about marrying her and building a family together, if she gave him a little time. That’s what Jessalyn told me. But they never had a chance to find out. He died in a plane crash when Landry was just two months old.”

      Brooke offered a commiserating glance. “So Landry never knew him.”

      Nate shook his head. “According to Jessalyn, all he has are a few old photographs and stories from his mom.”

      Brooke’s smooth brow furrowed. “So what are you going to do?”

      What could he do? “Raise him as mine.”

      “Without finding out?” Once again, Brooke looked shocked.

      She was beginning to sound like his attorney. “There’s no point in it. I’ve already agreed to adopt Landry and bring him up as my son.” What counted, Nate knew, was the commitment made, and kept. Love would follow, over time. At least he hoped that would be the case. Thus far, Landry didn’t seem to have his heart open to anything except rebellion.

      The tromp of youthful footsteps sounded on the back stairs. Seconds later, Landry and Cole came barreling into the kitchen. Cole nodded at Nate, then turned back to his mom. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

      “We thought maybe you got lost,” Landry added, ignoring Nate altogether and looking at Brooke with concern.

      Abruptly, the teenager swung around toward Nate, suspicious as ever. “How come you’re up?” he demanded.

      Nate straightened. He had to find a way to get Landry to respect him. The first step was telling it like it was, in situations like this. “I heard something and thought you might be taking off again,” he informed him matter-of-factly.

      An inscrutable light came into Landry’s eyes. It was followed swiftly by a smirk. “And so what? You were going to stop me?”

      Nate nodded with the quiet authority he knew Landry needed. “That’s my job now.”

      When Landry sullenly turned away, Nate knew he’d gotten his point across.

      “It’s going to take time for Landry to adjust,” Brooke told Nate, after the boys had taken their snacks and headed upstairs.

      How long? Nate wondered, aware that Landry was already giving Brooke a much easier time.

      But then again, Nate realized, Brooke wasn’t the adult legally aiding Landry’s great-grandmother in keeping Landry here against his wishes ….

      Brooke