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Leigh broke their mutual fixation first and extended Sarah to his waiting arms. As the exchange was made, her hand became trapped between the softness of Sarah’s back and the hardness of Chad’s palm. She glanced up to see if he had noticed the contact and was alarmed to see that he had. His electrifying blue eyes pierced into hers. She slowly withdrew her hand from beneath his.
He turned his attention to Sarah. Speaking in low, melodious tones, he praised her beauty. Sarah stared into his face, hypnotized by the crooning sound of his voice. Leigh was finding it hard not to be lulled as easily as her ba
by. He was so handsome! Granted, she hadn’t met him at his best, but she had never considered he’d be this good-looking cleaned up. It was touching that he had worn his best clothes to come calling on them. Why should that surprise her? Everything he did was endearing.
Leigh felt dowdy, rumpled, and maternal. Self-consciously she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and stood up straighter, hoping he wouldn’t notice the haphazard way she had pushed the hem of her blouse into her skirt. She knew she had a run in her stocking from banging her leg against the grocery cart.
“Would you two ladies join me for dinner tonight?”
“What? Dinner? Out?”
He laughed and bounced Sarah in his arms. The infant giggled. “Yes, dinner out.”
“I’d love to, Chad, but I don’t think so. It’s terribly difficult to take Sarah to a restaurant.”
“We can handle it.”
“No, I couldn’t ask you to suffer through that.” She gnawed at her bottom lip. He had spent so much money on the gift, she couldn’t allow him to buy them dinner as well. Still, she enjoyed talking to someone besides Sarah. An adult. An adult male. Chad. “Would you stay and have dinner with us? Here, I mean.”
Way to go, Leigh, she derided herself. What would he think of her? That she had men traipsing in and out of her house all the time? That she was a man-hungry widow? She shouldn’t have
“Are you sure you’d rather cook than go out?”
No, she wasn’t, but she didn’t want him to know that. At least he hadn’t looked at her with lascivious speculation. He hadn’t taken her invitation to include anything but dinner. “Sarah can’t sit in a high chair yet, and I have to hold her in her carrier, which she’s almost too big for. She’s usually very good until my meal arrives, then she starts fussing. I have to eat with one hand while”
“I get the picture,” he said, laughing and holding up one palm to ward off her objections. “All right. I’ll stay. But only tonight. We’ll try a restaurant another time. It won’t be so hard to do with help.”
Another time? “Wh… what do you like to eat?”
“Name it.” Sarah was loudly slapping his cheek with her hand. He didn’t seem to mind.
“I just bought a canned ham at the grocery store. Do you like cold ham?”
“Love it.”
“Salad?” He nodded. “My parents were here Sunday. Mother made a big bowl of potato salad, swearing that the longer it stays in the refrigerator, the better it gets.”
“My Mom says that, too. What can I do to help?” His teeth shone whitely in a dazzling smile.
“You seem to be doing fine with Sarah. Would you mind keeping her occupied while I put the groceries away and get dinner on the table?”
“That’s the easiest job I’ve had in a long time,” he said, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling.
Leigh glanced down at the floor awkwardly. When had she entertained a man? Not since before she and Greg were married. How did one go about these things? Few women entertaining men had a four-month-old baby to cope with as well. “Will you excuse me for just a few minutes?” she asked, edging across the living room toward her bedroom. “I just need to… I’ll be right back.”
She hastily closed the bedroom door behind her and raced to her closet. What could she wear? She had a new pair of wool slacks.… No, the change would be obvious. Would jeans be too casual? Ridiculous. They were spending the evening at home, weren’t they? Evening? Only dinner, Leigh. Only dinner.
She pulled on her starched, creased pair of designer jeans and changed blouses. Sarah had drooled on the other one. She chose an apricot-colored shirt made of a polyester that only a discerning eye could distinguish from silk. Then, yanking the pins from her hair, Leigh brushed it until it shone and secured the gleaming tresses behind her ear with a comb. There, that was better. She misted herself with a subtle fragrance and hurried back into the living room. She was breathless and her pulse was racing.
Chad was sitting on the sofa with Sarah lying on her back on his thighs. Her feet were kicking his stomach. His eyes opened appreciatively when Leigh walked in. His whistle was long and low and too exaggerated to give offense. “Leigh Bransom, you are one beautiful woman,” he complimented her huskily.
Leigh’s hands were clasped tightly together in front of her. “Thank you,” she said simply.
“I hope you don’t mind that I took off my jacket.”
It was draped over the arm of an easy chair. His sleeves had been rolled back to the elbows. “No. Make yourself comfortable.” She turned toward the kitchen. Scooping up the baby in his arms, Chad stood up and followed her.
“I like your house,” he said, taking in the small but tastefully decorated rooms. The muted blues and beige of the living room were carried over into the infinitesimal dining area. The kitchen was stark with accents of royal blue in decorative tiles bordering the countertop. Copper pots hung suspended from a rack on the ceiling. Chad had to duck his head to avoid some of them.
