Not everyone, he realized with a jolt as he opened the door to Kate.

“Hi. I took a chance you’d be home. My mother sends this.”

He found the small covered bowl thrust into his hands. “Your mother?”

“Yes. You hurt her feelings saying you were too busy to come by tomorrow.”

“I didn’t say I was too busy, I…” What the hell had he said? He’d made it up on the spot, and for the life of him couldn’t remember.

“The black-eyed peas are for luck,” Kate told him. “Mama really hopes you’ll change your mind and stop by. There’ll be plenty of kids for Jack to hang out with. Is he up? I’ll say hi.”

She slipped past him into the house. He’d been too distracted to stop her. Or even try to. But he was already hurrying after her across the little foyer and into the big, messy living room where the TV blared.

Mortified, he snatched up toys and debris in her wake.

“Oh, don’t start that.” She waved a hand impatiently. “I know what houses with children look like. I grew up in one. What a great tree!”

Arms full, he stared at it. He’d seen the one in her parents’ living room. Beautiful ornaments, placed with care. His and Jack’s looked like it had been decorated by drunk elves.

“We had one that looked like this. Freddie, Brand and I nagged Mama until she agreed to let us do the tree one year. We made a hell of a mess. It was great.”

There was a fire snapping in the hearth so she walked over to warm her hands. She’d spent over an hour dressing, so that she could look completely casual. The deep purple sweater was lightly tucked into gray trousers. Tiny gold hoops glinted at her ears. She’d left her hair loose after a heated self-debate, so that it streamed down to her waist.

She imagined he’d taken less than ten minutes to look fabulous in his jeans and sweatshirt. “Terrific house,” she commented. “Native stone, right? Such a quiet spot. Must be great for Jack, all this running room. You’ll need to get him a dog.”

“Yeah, he’s made noises in that area.” What the hell was he supposed to do? Now? With her? “Thank your mother for the peas.”

“Thank her yourself.” Kate turned, then spotted Jack facedown on the couch, one arm dangling. “Conked out, did he?” she went to the boy, automatically lifting his arm back on the cushion, draping the ancient afghan over him. “Trying to stay awake till midnight?”

“Yeah.”

He looked baffled, Kate thought. Baffled, rumpled and mouthwatering standing there with her mother’s bowl and Jack’s toys piled in his arms. “I love this movie,” she said easily, glancing at the TV. “Especially the part where they open up that doorway and it’s full of alien eyeballs and tentacles. Why don’t you offer me a drink? It’s traditional.”

“Beer’s it.”

“Oh, major calories. Okay, I’ll live dangerously.” She walked over, took her mother’s bowl. “Where’s the kitchen?”