The screen door opened, and Tiffany stuck her head in. “Just checking to see if you need anything.”

Thomas chose that moment to shriek.

Tiffany glanced at the bathroom. “What’s going on?”

“He’s giving Thomas a bath.”

Her sister’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Listen,” Maddie said.

The distinctive rumble of Mac’s voice mixed with Thomas’s baby patter and some serious splashing.

“Well,” Tiffany said grudgingly, “that’s nice of him.”

“Yes, it is.” Maddie wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to defend Mac.

“I hope you’re not getting all . . .” Tiffany waved her hand. “Caught up.”

“Save the sisterly advice. You have enough of your own problems. Stay out of mine.”

“Mark my words, Maddie. That guy is trouble.” In a hissing whisper, she added, “Remember what Evan McCarthy’s friend did to you? Evan knew he was lying and did nothing about it. That’s his brother in there. His brother. And what their mother did to Mom!”

“Stop! None of that has anything to do with him.” Maddie’s heart raced at the reminder of a long-ago time she never wanted to think about again. “Now please . . . Go.”

After Tiffany stalked out the door, Maddie took several deep breaths to calm down. Her hands shook as the memories from that horrible year of high school came flooding back.

When Mac emerged, dripping wet, from the bathroom holding Thomas wrapped in his Mr. Froggie towel, Maddie forgot all about the past and returned her son’s gummy smile. While Thomas had clearly won the battle in the tub, Mac looked awfully pleased with himself even with water dripping from his hair to his face to his soiled T-shirt.

As she watched him bounce Thomas up and down on his hip, Maddie decided that Tiffany was right about one thing: Mac McCarthy was trouble. Big, big trouble.

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Maddie talked Mac through dressing Thomas and making his bedtime bottle but insisted she could hold him while he drank it.

Taking one of the boy’s pudgy hands, Mac rubbed it softly against his own face. “Gentle hands. Mommy has boo-boos. Be very nice.”

Thomas’s tiny white-blond eyebrows knitted with concentration as he listened to Mac’s instructions. When Mac released his hand, Thomas mimicked the gentle caress to Mac’s cheek.

Mac’s eyes went soft, and his lips quirked with amusement. “Good boy.” He lowered Thomas to Maddie and helped her find a comfortable position before he handed the bottle to Thomas.

“Thank you.” Her heart suddenly felt too large for her chest, her skin too tight for her body, her lungs compressed from the effort to draw air. To think that ten hours ago, she’d never met him and now he was feeding and bathing her son with the same care he’d no doubt show his own child. She couldn’t process it.