Too many people had told her she was crazy, that she was too young, that she was throwing her life and her chances away. With a grunt, Zoe shoved the lawn mower around and began to cut another strip of grass. Her grass, she thought with clenched teeth.

She’d proved them wrong. She’d had her baby, kept her baby, and she was making a decent life for him. She and Keenan weren’t statistics. They were a family.

They didn’t need anyone to feel sorry for them, or to offer handouts. She was taking care of everything, one step at a time. And she had plans. Good, solid plans.

The tap on her shoulder made her jump. When she whipped her head around and looked at Coop, her hands tightened on the mower. “What?”

“I want to apologize,” he shouted. When she only continued to glare at him, he reached down and shut off the engine. “I want to apologize,” he repeated. “I was out of line last night.”

“Really?”

“I’m sort of addicted to poking into other people’s business.”

“Maybe you should go cold turkey.” She reached down to grab the pull cord. His hand closed over hers. She stared at it a moment. He had big hands, rough-palmed. She remembered the impression she’d gotten of strength and energy. Now the hand was gentle and hard to resist.

She hadn’t felt a man’s hands—hadn’t wanted to feel a man’s hands—in a very long time.

“Sometimes I push the wrong buttons,” Coop continued. He was staring at their hands, as well, thinking how small hers felt under his. How soft. “It’s earned me a fist in the face a time or two.” He tried a smile when her gaze slid up to his.

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

She didn’t smile back, but he sensed a softening. The roar of the mower had awakened him. When he’d looked out and seen her marching along behind it in baggy shorts, a T-shirt and a ridiculous straw hat, he’d wanted to go back to bed. But he’d been compelled to seek her out.

It was only a flag of truce, he told himself. After all, he had to live with her. More or less.

“I didn’t mean to be critical. I was curious about you. And the kid,” he added quickly. “And maybe seeing you in that outfit last night pushed a few of my buttons.”

She lifted a brow. That was honest enough, she thought. “All right. No permanent damage.”

It had been easier than he’d expected. Coop decided to press his luck. “Listen, I’ve got to cover the game this afternoon. Maybe you’d like to come along. It’s a nice day for baseball.”

She supposed it was. It was warm and sunny, with a nice, freshening breeze. There were worse ways to spend the day than in a ballpark with an attractive man who was doing his best to pry his foot out of his mouth.

“It sounds like fun—if I didn’t have to work. But Keenan would love it.” She watched his jaw drop, and smothered a smile.