No regrets, she promised herself as she lifted a hand to knock. She knew how useless they were.

He answered so quickly, she nearly jumped. Then they stood and stared at each other.

She’d worn a dress, one of those thin, breezy sundresses designed to make a man give thanks for the end of winter. Her hair was loose, falling over thin raspberry-colored straps and bare, peach-toned shoulders. There were nerves in her eyes.

“Hi.” He glanced down to the cordless phone she held. “Expecting a call?”

“What? Oh.” She laughed, miserably self-conscious. “No, I just don’t like to be out of touch when Keenan’s not home.”

“He’s all settled at his pal’s?”

“Yeah.” She stepped inside, set the phone on the counter. “He was so excited, he—” She broke off when her sandal stuck to the floor.

Coop grimaced. “I guess I missed some of it. We had a spill.”

“Oh?”

“The kid took a tumble, sheared off ten years of my life. No blood lost, though. Just a half gallon of orange juice.” When she only smiled, he stepped to the refrigerator. Why in hell was he babbling? “Want some wine?”

“That would be nice.” Why, he’s as nervous as I am, she realized, and she loved him for it. “Keenan’s having a wonderful time staying with you. I have to study the sports pages now just to keep up with what he’s talking about.”

“He catches on fast.”

“So do I. Go ahead,” she said as he handed her a glass of wine, “ask me about stats. I know all about RBIs and ERAs.” She took a sip, then gestured with her glass. “I think the Orioles would have taken the second game of that doubleheader the other night if they’d put in a relief pitcher in the second inning.”

His lips twitched. “Do you?”

“Well, the starter had lost his stuff, obviously. The guy who was announcing—”

“The play-by-play man.”

“Yes, he said so himself.”

“So, you watched the game.”

“I watch ‘Sesame Street,’ too. I like to keep up with Keenan’s interests.” She trailed off when Coop reached out to twine a lock of her hair around his finger.

“He’s got a thing for dinosaurs, too.”

“I know, I’ve checked a half-dozen books out of the library. We’ve—” The fingers trailed over her shoulder. “We’ve been down to the natural history museum twice.”

She set the glass aside and fell into his arms.

He kissed her as though he’d been starved for her taste. The impact was fast, deep, desperate. The little purring sounds that vibrated in her throat had his muscles turning into bundles of taut wire.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Neither was I. I—”

“Can’t think of anything but you,” he said as he swept her off her feet. “I thought we’d take this slow.”

“Let’s not,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his throat as he carried her into the bedroom.

She had a quick impression of Spartan neatness and simple masculine colors and lines before they tumbled onto the bed.