‘‘Oh, that’s right. I’m so scatterbrained lately.’’

‘‘It’s going around,’’ he mumbled. He decided it was safer to look anywhere but at her. He noted the pair of fat white candles burning on the counter. ‘‘You blow a fuse?’’

‘‘Excuse me?’’

‘‘What’s wrong with your lights?’’

‘‘Nothing.’’ She could feel the heat rise into her cheeks. She didn’t have a recipe for fried chicken written down anywhere. Why would she? You just did the same as you always did when it came time to make it. ‘‘I like candlelight sometimes. It goes with the music.’’

He only grunted, wishing she would hurry up so he could get the hell away. ‘‘You already put Aubrey to bed?’’

‘‘She’s spending the night with my mother.’’

His eyes, which had been steadfastly studying her ceiling, shot down and met hers. ‘‘She’s not here?’’

‘‘No. It’s her first overnight. I’ve already called over there twice.’’ She smiled a little, and her fingers reached up to fiddle with the top button of her dress in a way that made Ethan’s mouth water. ‘‘I know she’s only a few miles away, and as safe as she’d be in her own crib, but I couldn’t help it. The house feels so different without her here.’’

‘‘Dangerous’’ was the word he’d have used. The pretty little dollhouse was suddenly as deadly as a minefield. There wasn’t any little girl innocently sleeping in the next room. They were alone, with music sobbing and candles flickering.

And Grace was wearing a pale-pink dress that just begged to have those little white buttons undone, one by one by one.

The tips of his fingers began to itch.

‘‘I’m glad you stopped by.’’ Holding tight to her courage, she took a step forward and tried to remember that she had the power. ‘‘I was feeling a little blue.’’

He took a step back. More than his fingertips was itching now. ‘‘I said I’d be back directly.’’

‘‘You could stay for . . . coffee or whatever?’’

Coffee? If his system got any more wired than it was at that moment, it would have jumped right through his skin to dance the hornpipe. ‘‘I don’t think . . .’’

‘‘Ethan, I can’t steer clear of you the way you asked me. St. Chris is too small, and our lives are too tangled up together.’’ She could feel the pulse in her throat pounding against her skin in hard, insistent little knocks. ‘‘And I don’t want to. I don’t want to steer clear of you, Ethan.’’

‘‘I said I had my reasons.’’ And he could think of what they were if she’d just stop looking at him with those big green eyes. ‘‘I’m just watching out for you, Grace.’’