His shoulder lifted. “Neither one of us is the same as we were in Mom’s Buick, babe. I may need a little help, but trust me, in an hour I’ll be good to go. And in the meantime...” His eyes darkened with desire. “I promise you won’t be bored.”

Vickie sucked in a sharp breath as his hand cupped her breast. The heat that blossomed low in her belly felt achingly familiar. She hadn’t forgotten how to be sexy after all. She just hadn’t met a man in years who made her feel this kind of desire.

She rose on her toes and kissed him, throwing her cares away as she ran her tongue along his lips, forcing them apart. His hand continued to knead her breast as she pressed into his mouth. They were taking each other, right there in her kitchen.

No, not in the kitchen. She pulled away, her breath ragged.

“When you get back from your truck, you’ll find me upstairs.”

His eyes went warm and tender.

“Yes, ma’am. I believe I will.”

“SON OF A BI—” Mike glanced at his seven-year-old niece, Katie, and grimaced. “I mean son of a bee, that hurt!” She giggled, and he pretended to be offended. “What’s so funny about your uncle Mike hurting himself?”

“Uncle Mike, you were going to swear!” Katie pointed at him, her other hand on her hip. Mary’s daughter was a carbon copy of her, with the same self-righteous attitude. “Momma says we swear a lot ’cuz we’re Irish. Do you think we swear ’cuz we’re Irish?”

“Total blasphemy!” Finn O’Hearn stepped out onto the patio, where Mike was attempting—and failing—to repair a loose railing. Owen Cooper was right behind him. Finn, who was actually born in Ireland, gave Katie an exaggerated look of seriousness. “Ireland is the land of poets.” He winked. “And even when we curse, we elevate it to artistry.” Finn then frowned at Mike. “Oi, you’re bleedin’, lad.”

Mike glanced at the cut on his palm, where the screwdriver had grazed him when it slid off the screw head. It burned, but it wasn’t deep enough for concern.

“I’m fine. Damn wood on this deck is tough as steel. I told Mary I’d secure the railing, but I don’t want to leave the screw sticking out where one of the kids can bump it and I can’t get the fu—” Katie was still watching with interest. “...freakin’ thing to set all the way.”

Owen stepped forward, his hand out. “Give me the screwdriver.” He knelt on the step and leaned into the effort, getting all three screws in and flush with the wood. He stood, handing the screwdriver back to Mike with a grin.

“Don’t feel bad, boys. The world needs lawyers and professors, even if you can’t build anything.”