Heart and body melted. “Oh, Grayson.” Her eyes fluttered closed when he rubbed his lips persuasively over hers. “We can’t. Shannon could be back any time.”

“Uh-oh. Do you think she’s guessed where Kayla came from?”

“That’s not the point.” But her arms were twining around his neck.

He slipped the first pin from her hair. “What is the point?”

She’d been sure she had one, a very simple, very valid point. “I love you, Grayson.”

Strolling into the yard, Shannon stopped short. Her first reaction was amused embarrassment at having stumbled across a very private scene. The next, tripping over the first, was interest.

It was a lovely, romantic picture, she mused. The infant sleeping under a pale pink blanket, the flowers blooming, clothes blowing on the line in the background. And the man and woman, kneeling on the grass, wrapped in each other.

A pity, she thought, she didn’t have a sketch pad.

She must have made some sound, as Brianna shifted, saw her, and blushed rosily.

“Sorry. ’Bye.”

“Shannon.” Even as Shannon turned away, Brianna was struggling free. “Don’t be silly.”

“Go ahead,” Gray corrected when Shannon hesitated. “Be silly. Scram.”

“Grayson!” Shocked, Brianna batted his hands away and rose. “We—I was just weeding the pansies.”

Shannon stuck her tongue in her cheek. “Oh, I could see that. I’m going to take a walk.”

“You’ve just had a walk.”

“So, let her take another one.” Gray got up, wrapped an arm around Brianna’s waist, and sent Shannon a meaningful look. “A really long one.” Ignoring his wife’s half-hearted struggles, he plucked another pin from her hair. “Better yet, take my car. You can—” He let out a groan when Kayla began to whimper.

“She needs her nappie changed.” Brianna slipped away to go to the crib. Amused, and feeling wonderfully wanted, she smiled over at her husband as she lifted the baby. “You might put some of that energy into weeding, Grayson. I still have pies to bake.”

“Right.” With obvious regret he watched his wife, and his hopes for an intimate hour, slip out of his reach. “Pies to bake.”

“Sorry.” Shannon lifted her shoulders when Brianna took the baby inside. “Lousy timing.”

“You’re telling me.” He hooked an arm around her neck. “Now you have to help me weed.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Companionably she settled on the grass beside him. “I take it none of the guests are around.”

“Off to various points of interest. We heard your news. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I guess. I’m still a little shell-shocked. Rogan has a way of slipping around and through and over objections until you’re just nodding and agreeing to everything he says.”

“He does.” Intrigued, Gray studied her profile. “You’d have objections to being associated with Worldwide?”

“No. I don’t know.” She moved her shoulders restlessly. “It came out of the blue. I like to be prepared for things. I already have a career.” Which, she realized with a jolt, she hadn’t given a thought to in weeks. “I’m used to deadlines, and a quick pace, the confusion of working in a busy organization. Paintings, this kind of painting, is solitary and motivated by mood rather than marketing.”