“I like the people.” Her pulse was starting to jump. Damn him. “Your sister’s wonderful. So full of energy and ideas.”
“You have to watch her.” His lips curved slowly. “She’ll rope you into one of her projects.”
“Too late. She’s got me on the arts committee already. And I’ve been volunteered to help with the recycling campaign.”
“The trick is to duck.”
“I don’t mind, really. I think I’m going to enjoy it.” His thumb was brushing over her wrist now, lightly. “Mac, don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”
Brow creased, he looked down at their joined hands. “I think about you. I don’t have time to think about you. I don’t want to have time.”
It was happening again. The flutters and quivers she seemed to have no control over. “What do you want?”
His gaze lifted, locked with hers. “I’m having some trouble with that.”
The kitchen door burst open, and a horde of teenagers piled in, only to be brought up short as Kim, in the lead, stopped on a dime.
Her eyes widened as she watched her uncle drop her teacher’s hand, and the two of them jumped apart like a couple of teenagers caught necking on the living room sofa.
“Sorry. Ah, sorry,” she repeated, goggling. “We were just …” She turned on her heel and shoved back at her friends. They scooted out, chuckling.
“That ought to add some juice to the grapevine,” Nell said wryly. She’d been in town long enough to know that everyone would be speculating about Mac Taylor and Nell Davis by morning. Steadier now, she turned back to him. “Listen, why don’t we try this in nice easy stages? You want to go out to dinner tomorrow? See a movie or something?”
Now it was his turn to stare. “A date? Are you asking me out on a date?”
Impatience flickered back. “Yes, a date. It doesn’t mean I’m asking to bear you more children. On second thought, let’s just quit while we’re ahead.”
“I want to get my hands on you.” Mac heard himself say the words, knew it was too late to take them back.
Nell reached for her wine in self-defense. “Well, that’s simple.”
“No, it’s not.”
She braced herself and looked up at him again. “No,” she agreed quietly. Just how many times, she wondered, had his face popped into her mind in the past few weeks? She couldn’t count them. “It’s not simple.”
But something had to be done, he decided. A move forward, a move back. Take a step, he ordered himself. See what happens. “I haven’t been to a movie without the kids … I can’t remember. I could probably line up a sitter.”
“All right.” She was watching him now almost as carefully as he watched her. “Give me a call if it works out. I’ll be home most of tomorrow, correcting papers.”
It wasn’t the easiest thing, stepping back into the dating pool—however small the pool and however warm the water. It irritated him that he was nervous, almost as much as his niece’s grins and questions had irritated when she agreed to babysit.
Now, as he climbed the sturdy outside steps to Nell’s third-floor apartment, Mac wondered if it would be better all around if they forgot the whole thing.
As he stepped onto her deck, he noted that she’d flanked the door with pots of mums. It was a nice touch, he thought. He always appreciated it when someone who rented one of his homes cared enough to bother with those nice touches.
It was just a movie, he reminded himself, and rapped on the door. When she opened it, he was relieved that she’d dressed casually—a hip-grazing sweater over a pair of those snug leggings Kim liked so much.
Then she smiled and had his mouth going dry.
“Hi. You’re right on time. Do you want to come in and see what I’ve done to your place?”
“It’s your place—as long as you pay the rent,” he told her, but she was reaching out, taking his hand, drawing him in.
Mac had dispensed with the walls that had made stingy little rooms and had created one flowing space of living, dining and kitchen area. And she’d known what to do with it.
There was a huge L-shaped couch in a bold floral print that should have been shocking, but was, instead, perfect. A small table under the window held a pot of dried autumn leaves. Shelves along one wall held books, a stereo and a small TV and the sort of knickknacks he knew women liked.
She’d turned the dining area into a combination music room and office, with her desk and a small spinet. A flute lay on a music stand.
