that case, helping smooth the way for the two young brothers who had been struck yet again by tragedy to leave the state for a temporary stay with a well-qualified foster family who also happened to be Liam’s parents.
“How are they?” he asked. “Those kids have had a rough time.”
“Liam says they’re doing great. That’s about all I could get,” Hayley added with a pleased smile, “because he’s a bit distracted. He took his girl with him to meet the family.”
Gavin blinked. “That was fast.”
“When it’s right, it’s right,” Quinn said, looking at his wife.
As he watched Hayley’s smile, Gavin felt a twinge that he hated himself for. He thought he’d long ago accepted that such a connection was not in the cards for him, but being around these two seemed to shake that acceptance.
Cutter’s head came up and he gave a rather emphatic bark.
“Katie must be here,” Hayley said.
Gavin knew the gravel drive announced a car’s arrival to the dog’s sensitive ears long before they would hear it. As he listened, Cutter bumped up against him as if trying to nudge him toward the door, and the stairs.
“What?” he asked the animal, who merely looked at him steadily and continued to nudge. He glanced at Quinn and Hayley, who were smothering smiles; apparently they found their dog’s odd behavior amusing.
“Go on down and get the door, would you?” Hayley said, a bit too breezily.
“We’ll be down as soon as we glance through what Ty turned up,” Quinn said. “I’d like to have an idea before we talk to her.”
And so Gavin ended up following the dog’s urgings and headed for the stairs.
“Coffee’s on, and there’s some fresh-baked cookies on the counter next to the fridge,” Hayley called out, sounding too chipper for the circumstances.
With the feeling he was definitely missing something, he headed down the stairs to play greeter. He’d had enough sleep—barely—to alleviate the jet lag a bit, so he’d be fine. He’d handle this like any Foxworth case, if they indeed decided to take it on. His odd reaction to Katie Moore last night had only been because he’d been tired and jet-lagged.
When they got downstairs Cutter ran to the door and sat expectantly.
“Why don’t you just open it?” he muttered at the dog. “That automatic door opener is for you.”
Cutter tilted his head back so far he was practically looking at Gavin upside down. He wondered if that was the dog equivalent of rolling his eyes. With a sigh he reached out and pulled the door open. As he’d expected, it was Katie.
What he hadn’t expected was the difference from the rain-dampened woman he’d met last night. He took it all in rapidly, noticing details as he had all his life.
This woman was pulled together, leaving little sign of her distress from last night. She wore a bit of makeup—not much, and he’d dealt with enough overdone paint to know—that accentuated her delicate features and made those incredible eyes look even bluer. Her hair fell in loose waves to her shoulders, and the streaks of golden blond seemed warm on this chilly morning.
She was dressed for the temperature in a sweater the same blue as her eyes, with a loose sort of collar that fell softly around her neck and shoulders, worn over a pair of trim black leggings and midcalf boots. No high heels for her, but a solid, block heel and leather that would withstand a northwest winter. But those legs...
His breath jammed up in his throat, his pulse skipped and then picked up speed.
“Hello,” she said, and he realized that low, husky note in her voice hadn’t just been from her emotional state last night. It sent a tickling sensation up his spine.
So much for being tired and jet-lagged.
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