didn’t want Toby to think that she was following him.
But what if he’d wanted her to?
Oh, get a grip. She was so sleep-deprived, she was becoming delusional.
She was about to carry the first load of refreshments outside when Toby stepped into the kitchen.
“Thanks,” he said, his eyes contradicting the simplicity of his single word as they bored deeply into her own.
She tried to downplay the intensity in his gaze, as well as her efforts to provide a fun evening for the kids. “It was no big deal.”
“Actually, it’s a big deal to me. You have no idea how much I need this right now.”
She thought Toby was going to pull her in for a hug, and she would have willingly gone—if he’d made the first move. But as her heartbeats pounded off the seconds and he didn’t make the attempt, she realized it was probably more likely that one of the kids would come flying in the door to ask what was holding them up.
So she handed him the bowl of popcorn and grabbed the five ice-cream-filled mugs by their handles and led the way out the back door.
“So what are we watching?” Toby asked as he settled into the only spot the kids had left open, which happened to be right beside Angie.
“Star Wars I,” Justin said.
“No, dude, this is Star Wars IV,” Brian said snarkily, as if Justin was an idiot.
“How can it be number IV when this is the first Star Wars they ever made?” Justin challenged back.
Angie quickly explained the nuances of the Star Wars episodes before the boys came to blows across the blankets.
“So you’re both right,” she said.
The boys conceded, going back to their ice cream.
“Is that my bedsheet?” Toby asked as he studied the improvised movie screen nailed to the side of his barn.
“Well, the boys’ sheets are dark blue, and Kylie’s has a My Little Pony print,” Angie defended.
“Why is there a big brown spot on it?” Toby asked, glossing over the fact that the boys had put nail holes into his sheet.
“Justin dropped his end in some manure while I was on the ladder trying to nail it in place,” Brian explained.
“I’m sorry,” Angie said. “I didn’t know they were going to use real nails. And I didn’t realize they’d dropped it in cow... Well, in...you know. I just thought you had stained sheets.”
Toby looked at her as if she’d been the one to drop the manure outside the barn in the first place.
“Did you try the popcorn yet?” she asked, trying to get the conversation heading in a different direction. “I put extra butter on it for you.”
Toby reached into the bowl. “That stain on the sheet makes it look like Luke Skywalker has melanoma on his face.”
“What’s ‘melanoma’?” Brian asked.
“It’s a kind of skin cancer,” Angie answered.
The pillows looked so comfortable. Maybe she could just put her head down for a second and rest her eyes, maybe even doze off for a moment or two.
“My mommy died of cancer,” Justin said.
“Is Luke Skywalker gonna die of cancer, too?” Kylie asked.
Oh, no. Angie hadn’t meant to mention the C-word.
“Nobody is going to die tonight,” Toby said, trying to save the day.
But that didn’t make Angie feel much better. If her brain hadn’t been so sleep-deprived, she might have thought before opening her mouth.
Here she was, trying to do something fun and nice for the family, but then she’d screwed everything up by reminding them of their dead mother.
No matter what she tried to do, it seemed that she only made things worse. Maybe Toby and the kids would be better if she ran for the hills and stayed out of their lives forever.
They’d be better off. But as she scanned the yard, taking in the sweet kids and the handsome cowboy who’d taken them in and given them a home, she wondered how she’d ever just walk away from them without looking back.
Or did she dare risk it all and stick around until she finally got things right?
The kids settled back on the blankets to watch the movie. Toby and Angie did, too, stretching out next to each other.
By the time Han Solo was telling Leia that he was in it for the money, Toby leaned over and whispered to Angie, “Is there any more popcorn?”
He hadn’t eaten lunch, so he’d pretty much wolfed down the spaghetti Angie had set out for him, but it really hadn’t quite filled him up.
“I’ll run in and make some more,” she said, getting to her feet.
He hadn’t meant to put her to work. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Actually, I was about to fall asleep. It’ll help me stay awake.”
Toby followed her into the kitchen. She may not need any help, but he saw an opportunity and decided to take it. With the kids so engrossed in the movie, he didn’t know when they’d get another chance to be alone. And the longer he’d lain next to her, the more he’d craved some one-on-one adult time with her.
When she realized he’d followed her into the kitchen, she said, “I’m so sorry about bringing up the C-word earlier.”
“Don’t even give it another thought. Everyone slips up now and then. Besides, I was the one who brought up melanoma in the first place. And if it makes you feel better, the social worker told me that the kids need to talk about their mom. It’s better for them to process her death in a normal, healthy way. When they lived with their aunt, they saw a bad example of hiding emotions behind the bottle.”
Just thinking about Barbara reminded him of the unsettling conversation they’d had. He’d almost forgotten about it once he’d gotten home. Angie had a way of getting his mind off his trouble, which was one more thing he liked about her.
Should he tell her about the call?
He didn’t consider the idea very long. He didn’t want to dump any more on her than he had to, no matter how easy she was to talk to. She wasn’t in this thing for the long haul anyway.
Besides, why did he want to think about Barbara when he had Angie in front of him now, standing at the stove, heating oil and popcorn kernels in a covered skillet?
When the corn began popping against the lid, she moved the pan across the burner—back and forth, faster and faster—her breasts swaying with the motion.
Aw, man. If he didn’t stop gaping at the mesmerizing sight, those kernels wouldn’t be the only thing popping.
“Is the popcorn done yet?” Justin yelled from the open doorway.
If you were talking about being hot and bothered, Toby was certainly close to done.
“Just about,” Angie called out to the boy. “I’ll bring it out to you in just a minute.”
Justin ran back to the movie, and Toby decided he’d better do the same before his thoughts got the better of him.
A few minutes later, Angie joined them in the yard, bringing the replenished bowl with her and settling back into her spot next to Toby. Even the action scenes, with swishing lightsabers, zooming X-wing fighters and intergalactic battles, didn’t keep Toby from wanting to reach out and grab more than a handful of