“Oh, yeah.” She bumped the father aside, crooked a finger to the son. “Come here, pal.”

“How come?”

“So I can kiss you all over your face.”

“Nuh-uh!” His eyes widened, and danced. “Yuck-o.”

“Okay.” She peeled off her coat, tossed it to Brody, then pushed up her sleeves. “That’s it. You’re doomed.”

She made a grab, giving him enough time to yelp and run for cover. She played dodge and dart for a few minutes, surprising Brody at how easily she avoided trampling on toys. Jack squealed for help, obviously having a great time.

She caught him, wrestled him to the couch, pinned him while he laughed and screamed for mercy.

“Now…the ultimate punishment.” She dashed kisses over his cheeks, punctuating them with loud smacks. “Say yummy,” she ordered.

“Nuh-uh!” He was breathless and his belly was wild with laughter and delight.

“Say yummy, yummy, yummy or I’ll never stop.”

“Yummy!” he shouted, choking on giggles. “Yummy, yummy.”

“There.” She sat back, whistled out a breath. “My work is done.”

Jack crawled right into her lap. She wasn’t soft like Grandma, or hard like Dad. She was different, and her hair was soft and tickly. “Are you going to stay till midnight when it’s new year?”

“I’d love to.” She glanced over her shoulder at Brody. “If your dad says it’s okay.”

Some battles, he thought, were lost before they were waged. “I’ll get your beer.”

Chapter Five

“Now.” Frederica Kimball LeBeck dragged her sister into Kate’s bedroom, firmly closed the door. That would, she calculated, insure them approximately five minutes of quiet and privacy. “Tell me everything—from the beginning.”

“Okay. According to scientific evidence, there was a great explosion in space.”

“Ha ha. About Brody O’Connell.” Eight years Kate’s senior—light where Kate was dark, petite where Kate was willowy, Freddie flopped on the bed. “Mama told me you’ve got him in your crosshairs.”

“He’s not a rabbit.” Kate flopped on the bed in turn. “Gorgeous, though, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Excellent shoulders. So what’s the deal?”

“The deal is he’s a widower, doing a bang up job raising a terrific boy. You saw Jack right?”

“Can’t miss him. He’s giving my Max a run for his money,” she added, speaking of her own six-year-old son. “They’re bonding over video games.”

“Great, that’ll push Brody into the social mix. I don’t think he’s given himself much chance to play.”

“He’s getting one now, whether he wants it or not. Grandpa and Uncle Mik shanghaied him. I saw them shoving him out the door so they could all go look at your building and make manly carpenter-guy noises over it.”

“Perfect.”

“So, is it just glands, or is it more?”

“Well, it started with glands. My glands are very susceptible to big, strong men—and their tool belts.”

While Freddie snorted with laughter, Kate rolled over on her back, studied the ceiling. “Could be more. He seems like— I don’t know, just a very nice man—solid, responsible, loving. The kind of man I haven’t seen much of. Gun-shy, too, in a really sweet way, which makes him a wonderful challenge.”