“Too late.” He flashed a charming smile that made her mad all over again. “Well, all righty, buddy, let’s get to it.”

Following Maddie’s directions, Mac kept up a steady stream of animated chatter that held her son captivated in his high chair. Mac used a variety of voices and hand gestures to keep Thomas’s attention as he opened a jar of sweet potatoes to go with the tiny bites of leftover chicken.

“Just put the chicken on the tray,” she said. “He eats that with his fingers, but you’ll have to feed him the potatoes.”

“I can do that,” Mac said, making a funny face at Thomas.

Watching Mac’s intense focus on the task of wresting spoonfuls of orange baby food into Thomas, she wondered if he gave everything he did the same level of attention. The thought made her body tingle from head to toe.

He glanced at her. “What? Am I doing it wrong?”

Clearing her throat, she said, “No, you’re doing fine.”

Thomas took advantage of Mac’s break in concentration to grab the spoon and fling the orange glob, which landed with a loud splat on Mac’s cheek.

Maddie dissolved into giggles.

Thomas followed suit as Mac glowered at him.

“You think that’s funny, do you?” he asked, dabbing sweet potatoes on Thomas’s nose.

The baby laughed, and Maddie’s heart contracted with something strange and foreign and altogether uncomfortable. That’s when she realized she could warn herself off this man until the end of time and still find him irresistible, especially when he was displaying such tender kindness toward her son.

“I think I got more on him than in him,” Mac said when the jar was finally empty. The floor and wall around the high chair resembled a war zone, and both “men” were covered in orange slime.

“See why the bath comes after dinner, rather than before?”

“Your mommy is very wise,” Mac said to Thomas as he freed the squirming baby from the high chair. “But you already know that, don’t you? Let’s hit the tub, my man.”

Irritated that she couldn’t bathe her son herself, she said, “Just be careful. He’s like a slippery eel once he gets wet.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Don’t let the water get too hot.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

“Towels are in the cabinet.”

“We’ll find ’em.”

She wished she could see them working out the logistics. Instead, she listened to Mac’s low voice as he talked to Thomas, who let out an occasional screech or a squeal. Bath time was his favorite part of the day, and she smiled imagining the mess Mac would have to clean up when they were done.

Despite being badly injured, she had smiled more that day than she had in years. It was hard to stay dour with Mac’s cheerful, upbeat personality around to lighten things up.