She had made a deal with herself—to be fair, she was going to be sure he knew about his sons before they resumed that part of their relationship. A stronger woman would have kept that deal. She had failed that once, at his house, but she was determined not to fail again. But as much as she longed for honesty between them, as much as she longed to make love to him again, she was still a bit terrified of telling him. She was afraid he would be angry that she hadn’t done it sooner. Soon, she thought. Maybe tonight.

She watched as Mitch overthrew Ty with the ball, and John clapped and whooped; they were pretty small to throw so well. He turned to look at Leigh and made the thumbs-up sign; she waved and smiled.

She ached for him, but the last time they had become lovers before they became friends…before they came to terms with what they wanted. It had turned out that they had wanted different things, opposite things. This time she was trying to put first things first, to begin at the beginning and not at the end. This time they were talking, at least. Finding areas of agreement.

“I thought,” John had said, “that I actually liked you before I loved you. But knowing that for sure is as important to me as it is to you.” He had something that Leigh had never had herself—and hadn’t given him credit for the last time around. Wisdom.

Things were good. They were getting reacquainted; they were friendly. They were being sensible, postponing their marriage for a few months, even if they had been unsuccessful in postponing their sexual relationship. They were so hot for each other that they had to watch even kissing, because within seconds they were panting, squirming, nearly dying of longing. Her cheeks grew pink when she thought about him. She wasn’t sure she could just sit there on the deck watching him without getting all hot and bothered.

So much for wisdom.

She loved watching him. Whether he was bending his back over bricklaying or playing with the kids, his lithe strength was so appealing.

He stopped playing ball suddenly and straightened his spine. The ball that Ty had thrown his way hit him in the knee, and he didn’t move.

“Hey, John!” she heard Ty call.

John looked at Leigh, astonishment written all over his face. He turned back to the boys and said something she couldn’t hear, and then the boys began to toss the ball back and forth without him while he turned and slowly walked toward the deck. His brow was furrowed, but his mouth was slightly open. He finally stood before her and simply looked at her for a moment.

“John?”

“Five pounds…each?”

“What?”

“The kids…they were five pounds each. They were early.”

“Yes. Well, actually, Ty was four-four…and Mitch was—”

“How early?”