Her head jerked around. After their argument the night before, Ethan was the last person Grace expected to see standing in her backyard. It didn’t please her, particularly since she’d told herself she could and would stay mad at him. Worse, she knew how she looked—old gray shorts and a T-shirt that had seen too many washings, not a stitch of makeup and her hair uncombed.

Damn it, she’d dressed for yard work, not for company.

‘‘I can handle it.’’ She yanked again, her foot, clad in a sneaker with a hole in the toe, planted on the side of the machine. It nearly caught, very nearly.

‘‘Let it rest a minute. You’re just going to flood it.’’

This time the cord snapped back with a dangerous hiss. ‘‘I know how to start my own lawn mower.’’

‘‘I imagine you do, when you’re not mad.’’ He walked over as he spoke, all lean and easy male in faded jeans and a work shirt rolled up to his elbows.

He had come around back when she didn’t answer her door. And he knew he’d stood watching her a little longer than was strictly polite. She had such a pretty way of moving.

He had decided sometime during the restless night that he had better find a way to make amends. And he’d spent a good part of his morning trying to figure how to do so. Then he’d seen her, all those long, slim limbs the sun was turning pale gold, the sunny hair, the narrow hands. And he’d just wanted to watch for a bit.

‘‘I’m not mad,’’ she said in an impatient hiss that proved her statement a lie. He only looked into her eyes.

‘‘Listen, Grace—’’

‘‘Eeee-than!’’ With a shriek of pure pleasure, Aubrey scrambled out of the sandbox and ran to him—full-out, arms extended, face lit up with joy.

He caught her, swung her up and around. ‘‘Hey, there, Aubrey.’’

‘‘Come play.’’

‘‘Well, I’m—’’

‘‘Kiss.’’

She puckered her little lips with such energy that he had to laugh and give them a friendly peck.

‘‘Okay!’’ She wiggled down and ran back to her sand-box.

‘‘Look, Grace, I’m sorry if I was out of line last night.’’

The fact that her heart had melted when he held her daughter only made her more determined to stand firm. ‘‘If?’’

He shifted his feet, clearly uncomfortable. ‘‘I just meant that—’’

His explanation was interrupted as Aubrey raced back with her beloved stuffed dogs. ‘‘Kiss,’’ she stated, very firmly, and held them up to Ethan. He obliged, waiting until she raced away again.

‘‘What I meant was—’’

‘‘I think you said what you meant, Ethan.’’