LITMIR.BIZ

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older,” Jake said.

      “You do. But my girls are only six and nine.”

      “Oh.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal.

      Lily was sure he had more girls than he could handle flirting with him, just like they must flirt with his uncle.

      “I’m gonna go inside. Get out of the sun for a minute,” Jake said, turning to leave. “Thanks again, Mrs. Tanner. This is great.”

      “You’re welcome,” Lily said, then found herself completely tongue-tied.

      Flustered.

      Flushed, she feared.

      Feeling foolish.

      She held out a cup to Mr. Tough-and-Sweaty, thinking sweat had surely never looked so good as it did on him.

      “Thank you,” he said, taking the cup and holding it out for her to fill, then shook his head. “That little rat escaped with all the fudge, didn’t he?”

      Lily smiled, not too big a smile, she hoped. Not like she was trying to flirt or anything. “I think he did. You should probably hurry inside. If he’s anything like my nephews, he could down the whole plate easily inside of five minutes.”

      “Sounds like Jake,” he agreed, tipping his head back as he took a long swallow of tea. “Wow, that’s good.”

      “You’re welcome to keep the pitcher,” she offered. “I thought your refrigerator must be empty, and it’s supposed to be in the nineties today, so…I just thought this was a good idea.”

      “It was. Jake and I appreciate it.”

      “So…are you moving in? Or is Jake and his family?” She hoped she sounded neighborly and nothing more, and that the flush on her face didn’t give her away.

      “Just Jake and me,” he said, his expression if possible becoming even more stern. “My sister and her husband died in a car accident six weeks ago. They have twin boys in college at Virginia Commonwealth. Jake’s their youngest. Other than the twins, I’m what passes for his family now.”

      “Oh. I’m so sorry,” she said.

      And here she had been admiring every bit of him, right down to the sweat on his brow. Admiring the sweat of a grieving man with a grieving teenage boy.

      “Thanks. It’s still a little raw, but—”

      “Of course. I’m sorry I even asked—”

      “No. I’m glad you did. Glad you asked me and not him. He’s…uh…well, it still throws him, getting the question and not knowing what to say.”

      “Of course. My girls were the same way when my husband and I divorced. I mean, I know it’s not the same thing, but…they hated having everyone ask, and then having to explain about their father not living with us anymore.”

      He nodded, quiet and understanding.

      The kind of man who’d take on raising his fifteen-year-old nephew alone.

      Which, if possible, only made him even more attractive. Maybe that stern expression was simply a result of what he’d been through in the last six weeks.

      “Well, I should let you two get back to work,” she said, handing him the pitcher. “Let me know if you need anything else. I’m almost always at home.”

      “Thanks again. This was really nice of you,” he said quietly.

       Nice.

      Fine.

      He thought she was nice.

      She hoped he didn’t know she was gawking like a smitten teenager over him, all while he was grieving for the loss of his sister and brother-in-law and taking care of his poor parentless nephew.

      What is wrong with you? Lily muttered to herself, trying to hide her dismay behind a forced smile.

      He nodded toward the house. “I’m going to get inside and have some of that fudge.”

      Yeah. She nodded goodbye.

       Fudge.

       Chapter Two

      Jake was shoving fudge into his mouth like there was no tomorrow when Nick finally got into the kitchen of their new house. He stopped only long enough to hold out his now empty glass, wanting Nick to refill it for him before putting the pitcher down on the counter.

      “Hey, she was kind of cute for somebody’s mom,” Jake said. “And she can really make fudge.”

      “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had any yet,” Nick said, hoping his voice wasn’t too gruff.

      He didn’t mean for it to be. Too many years of snapping out orders to soldiers in his command. It was habit now, though he tried his best to tone it down for Jake and his brothers. They really didn’t need anybody who sounded like they were yelling at them or mad at them, and Nick knew he could sound like that without even trying.

      Jake handed over what was left of the fudge and Nick bit into it, a flavor akin to ecstasy exploding in his mouth.

      “Oh…sh…man!” he said.

      He was trying to quit cussing, too, trying to set a good example for the kid. Not that he was doing all that well with the noswearing bit, either.

      “I know,” Jake said appreciatively. “What do you think we’d have to do to get her to make us dinner?”

      “Doubtful. She’s a single mother with two little girls,” Nick said, still savoring a mouthful of fudge. “She probably doesn’t have a lot of extra time.”

      “Still,” Jake said hopefully. “I bet she’d do it for you. Did you see the way she looked at you? Like she didn’t really mind that you’re—”

      “Old?” Nick guessed.

      “I was going to say practically ancient.” Jake grinned, reaching for the last piece of fudge.

      “Touch it and die,” Nick growled. “You already had a plateful.”

      “I know, but I’m still hungry,” he complained.

      And it wasn’t even ten o’clock.

      Lily Tanner knew what she was talking about. Teenage boys were bottomless pits. Nick hadn’t noticed so much in the first week or so after his sister and brother-in-law’s death, because neighbors kept bringing over food. It seemed like a mountain of food, but it hadn’t lasted long with the twins and Jake in the house. It seemed nothing, even grief, dimmed the appetite of a teenage boy for long.

      “Let’s finish getting everything out of the truck before it gets any hotter, and then we’ll go find something to eat,” Nick said. “Who knows? Maybe by that time, another one of the neighbors will show up with lunch. Just try to look pitiful and weak and underfed.”

      “I can do that,” Jake said, guzzling another glass of tea and then heading outside.

      Nick put down his own glass, grabbed the last piece of fudge and popped it in his mouth, then looked around the house, empty of everything but boxes and furniture that hadn’t yet been put into place, and he hoped for what had to be the thousandth time that he was doing the right thing in coming here to Virginia and trying to raise this kid.

      And wondered what in the hell his sister had been thinking of to name him the boys’ guardian in her will.

      They got everything out of the truck by noon, and then went inside and moved just enough boxes to allow them room to collapse on the sofa that had landed temporarily right under a ceiling fan.

      Nick had to hand it to the kid. He could do some work, and he was really strong, although Nick had to think he could take the kid in a fight, if he really had to. And from the mountain of unsolicited advice

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