Meeting Megan Again. Julianna Morris

was just making conversation,” he murmured.

      Across the room he could see her take a deep, calming breath. “Sorry.”

      “That’s okay, I owe you one after getting uptight over the magazine article.”

      “The article wasn’t so bad,” she said.

      He snorted. “The Sexiest Man in America? I could strangle that writer.”

      Megan thought there were worse things than being called sexy—like not being sexy. She wiggled her fingers, noting the short, practical nails and chapped skin from working in the kitchen and garden. But it wasn’t so bad, she was Kara’s mother, which counted the most. And she belonged to a terrific family, even if it was only by marriage.

      “People write articles to sell magazines,” she said absently. “Kara has six copies of it stashed under her bed. And she and her friends have your picture taped to their bathroom mirrors.”

      “Ohmigod. You aren’t serious, are you?”

      The groaning note in Tyler’s voice brought Megan’s head up and she smiled faintly.

      “Afraid so. But don’t tell Kara I told you. She’d be mortally embarrassed. And it’s no worse than boys drooling over pictures of half-naked models and actresses. Anyway, it’s the age they’re at—you know, the age between birth and college graduation?”