“You’ll be doing me a favor. If I don’t keep my hands busy, I snack.”

Nealy thanked her, then she and Lucy returned to the motor home with the baby. As she went inside, she thought how nice it was to receive a favor from someone who didn’t have a single thing to gain by it.

The baby was dirty from crawling in the grass around the picnic table, something Nealy had tried desperately to prevent, only to have everyone else act as if she were being unreasonably overprotective. Since Charlie had asked Mat to help him with an awning bracket, it was up to Nealy and Lucy to coax the cranky baby through a quick bath in the sink. She was sobbing from fatigue by the time she was dressed in a clean pair of pajamas, and she refused to let Nealy comfort her.

Lucy took her in the back to give her a bottle. As the teenager slid the door shut, Nealy felt vaguely melancholy. She wasn’t exactly jealous, but it hurt to know the baby so clearly preferred everyone else to her. Button probably sensed there was something wrong with her.

The Angel of Baby Death . . . She shook off the terrible image.

The door swung open, and she whirled around. Mat stepped in, looking even larger than normal and more gorgeous. Her mouth felt dry. She turned away and spotted Button’s torn romper. “Would you mind taking this over to Bertis? I forgot.” She thrust it toward him.

“No problem.” He sounded unusually cheerful for someone who could be the world’s biggest curmudgeon. “No problem at all.” He smiled as he reached out to take the romper and his hand brushed hers. “Be back in a few minutes.”

He was deliberately torturing her. And what was the point? He might think they were going to make love with two children only a few feet away, but she knew differently. Frustrated, she made her way to the bathroom and stripped off her clothes.

As the water poured over her, she remembered the way those big hands had cupped her breasts. She’d loved every moment of his urgent, single-minded seduction. It had felt so good to be desired.

She reminded herself that they barely knew each other. They had no common interests, no shared background. But then she’d had those things with Dennis and look what it had brought her.

Her eyes prickled with tears. Despite everything, she missed Dennis. More than anyone, he would have understood her confusion now, and he would have offered wise counsel. Whenever she let herself forget how he’d betrayed her, she also remembered that he’d been her best friend.