Loving Leah. Nikki Benjamin

got it covered. Pay me back when you can,” she’d told him.

      “Right, I will.”

      He’d left then, the memory of the reproach he’d seen in Leah’s eyes staying with him not only all day, but also well into the night. He hadn’t been so busy that he’d had to go to the university quite so early that day, and he could have come home much sooner than he had, as well. Instead, he’d waited purposely until he’d been sure that Leah and Gracie had both gone to bed.

      Tuesday morning had been a replay of Monday morning except that Leah’s homemaking efforts on Monday had made him feel even guiltier. Not only had there been leftover meat loaf in the refrigerator, but a chocolate layer cake on the counter. And the rest of the house, now as immaculate as the kitchen, had smelled of fresh air and lemon oil.

      Instead of being duly contrite, though, he had allowed his irritation at himself to show and be misconstrued.

      “I appreciate your efforts, Leah, but you don’t have to clean my house,” he’d said as he’d filled his mug at the counter. “I can hire a maid service to come in once a week.”

      “But it was fun, Daddy,” Gracie had said. “Leah let me push the vacuum cleaner and spray the furniture polish on the tables. I helped her bake a cake, too, and we made cinnamon rolls for breakfast today. Wait’ll you taste them. They are so, so yummy.”

      There had been a wary look in Leah’s lovely eyes again when he’d turned to meet her gaze. But there had been the barest hint of anger, as well, and it had echoed in her voice when she spoke.

      “There’s no need to hire a maid service while I’m here, John,” she said. “I intend to earn my keep, you know. By the way, the receipt for the groceries I bought is on the windowsill. You can give me a check to cover the cost whenever you have a chance. Gracie requested spaghetti for dinner tonight, too, hoping you’d eat with us.”

      “Sorry, I can’t be here,” he’d answered curtly, then had wanted to kick himself when he’d seen Gracie duck her head to hide her disappointment.

      “You’re awfully busy for June, aren’t you?” Leah had asked, politely yet pointedly.

      “I’ve just gotten funding for an important research project,” he’d answered, his tone more defensive than he’d intended. “I’d like to have it well under way before classes start again in the fall.”

      “I see,” she’d said, her own tone making it evident that she didn’t really. Then she’d added with a killer smile that had made his breath catch, “Good thing I’m here, then, isn’t it?”

      “I think so,” Gracie had said, reminding John of her presence. “Don’t you, Daddy?”

      “Yes, of course. What would we do without your aunt Leah?” He’d allowed just enough sarcasm into his tone to wipe the smile off Leah’s face without upsetting Gracie, something he’d learned to do years ago with Caro.

      He’d headed out again after that, feeling every bit the jerk Leah had accused him of being Sunday night. To make bad matters worse, his rude behavior toward her wasn’t even doing him any good. She was too strong-minded and stubborn to let him run her off.

      In fact, he’d realized as he’d stood at the kitchen counter just after midnight eating cold spaghetti that he was making his own life more difficult—not to mention more miserable—by going to such great lengths to avoid Leah’s company. She’d put him on notice that she intended to dig in her heels for the duration of the summer, and what was so bad about that?

      Nothing, he acknowledged as he got out of bed now. She’d made his home a clean and comfortable place to be again, although wisely she hadn’t gone into his study or his bedroom yet. He was the one staying away by choice simply because he didn’t want to admit to her, or to himself, how glad he was that she was there.

      That would mean apologizing for his rudeness the night she’d arrived, and that, in turn, might very well lead her to expect further explanations he had no intention of giving. There were things about himself and Caro and their life together, especially during the last few months of their marriage, that he didn’t want Leah to ever know.

      Showered and dressed, John headed downstairs, intending to go to his office at the university as he had the past couple of days. He was surprised to find neither Leah nor Gracie in the kitchen, though a fresh pot of coffee and his mug sat on the counter, along with a box of cereal, a bowl and a spoon.

      Puzzled by Leah and Gracie’s absence, he reached for the coffeepot. Through the window over the sink, he glimpsed a flash of red, then froze, hand in the air just shy of the pot’s handle. Leah was dressed in a pair of faded denim shorts, very short shorts that showed off her long legs to advantage, and a red tank top under which she wore—from the way her full, firm breasts pushed against the fabric—nothing at all.

      Looking about sixteen with her hair pulled back in a saucy ponytail, she was bent over the lawn mower, fiddling with the choke. Gracie, standing safely off to one side, chattered happily, apparently asking questions that Leah answered in ways that made the little girl giggle with delight.

      Without really thinking, John moved to the kitchen door, pulled it open and strode out onto the patio.

      “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, making no effort to hide his exasperation.

      “Mowing the grass,” Leah replied in a mild tone, glancing back at him for an instant before she unscrewed the cap on the mower’s fuel tank. “Unless I have to go to the service station to buy a couple of gallons of gas. Then I’ll be mowing the grass.”

      “And we’re going to weed the flower beds, too,” Gracie declared. “Maybe, if we have time, we’re going to the nursery to buy some plants, too. We both like roses best, you know.”

      No, he hadn’t known that about either Gracie or Leah, John ruefully admitted to himself.

      “I was going to mow the lawn,” he said. The yard wasn’t that overgrown yet, was it? Well, yes, he realized after a swift survey, it was.

      Leah shot him a skeptical look as she straightened.

      “When, exactly?” she asked casually, wiping her hands on the seat of her shorts.

      “Eventually,” he muttered, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably as he looked away from her penetrating gaze.

      “We have to do it today, Daddy, ’cause everybody’s mad at us,” Gracie stated in a solemn tone. “Mrs. Thomason and Mr. Carey and the Donovans—both of them.”

      “Mad at us?” He eyed first Gracie, then Leah in confusion.

      “Apparently your neighbors, at least the ones Gracie mentioned, seem to feel property values on the street are set to take a nosedive if we don’t get your yard cleaned up within the next twenty-four hours,” Leah explained with an all-too-sweet smile.

      “How do you know that?” John demanded.

      “They each took the opportunity to tell me personally. And I assured them all, personally, that I’d see it was taken care of immediately.”

      “You’re not mowing the lawn, Leah.”

      “But, Daddy, we have to,” Gracie insisted.

      “No, I have to, and I will just as soon as I change my clothes,” he assured his daughter.

      “What about your research project?” Leah reminded him in a tone he couldn’t quite read.

      “I have teaching assistants working on it, too.”

      “Will wonders never cease? Teaching assistants. However did you manage to conjure them up just now?”

      “Do I need to buy gas for the mower or is the tank full?” John asked, choosing to ignore her teasing words and her equally teasing smile despite the shaft of warmth the two combined sent straight to his heart.

      He