“Anyway, Mom gave me this gray bundle of energy with the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen. He wiggled like mad, peed on the floor and washed my face with his tongue and I . . . I just fell in love with him. He’s been with me ever since.” She cleared her throat and slapped her hands on her thighs as if to change the subject. “Well, so much for soppy, maudlin puppy stories. I, uh, guess I should thank you.” Turning to face him, her eyes shining with a bit of unwanted moisture, her lips full over a forced smile, she started to speak again. “You’ve been—”

He lost all control. The resistance he’d so painstakingly constructed disintegrated as quickly as a match striking and bursting into flame.

“Wonderful—Oh!” Without thinking he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her with an intensity that he hadn’t felt in years.

Her lips were warm and pliant, her skin soft beneath the calluses of his fingers. Her breath caught in a swift, sharp intake and Luke felt a rush of desire, warm and seductive, flow through his bloodstream.

She moaned, then pulled back to lean against the passenger door. He dropped his hands and inwardly called himself a dozen kinds of fool. What had he been thinking? Kissing her, for God’s sake! He couldn’t, wouldn’t be distracted by a woman—any woman. Especially not one who might just be the mother of Dave Sorenson’s kid.

“I . . . I . . . I don’t know what to say.... And that—being tongue-tied, that is—doesn’t happen to me very often.” She bit her lip and stared at him with wide, forest-green eyes.

“Don’t say anything.” He grabbed the steering wheel. “I was out of line.”

She reached for the door handle of the pickup. “Maybe we both were. I”—she hooked her thumb toward the house—“I’ve got to go. Thanks. Thanks again.” She was out of the truck and up the path to the back of the house as quick as lightning.

He watched her hurry up the steps, her shorts white in the moonlight, her hair bouncing as she ran. At the porch she cast one final, fleeting glance in his direction, then, with a quick wave, opened the door and disappeared into the cozy, cluttered little bungalow.

“Idiot,” he growled under his breath as he flicked on the ignition. “Damned fool moron.” Throwing his rig into reverse, he rolled back to the street, flipped on his lights and headed toward his rented rooms in the old carriage house.

He thought of her mouth rubbing so sensually against his, and his damned crotch tightened again. What was it about her that got to him?

“Damn.” He’d been a fool for a woman before, a long time ago, and he’d sworn then that it would never happen again.

Until now, it hadn’t been a problem.