from his mission by telling him that he was no longer interested in Paige. But it hadn’t worked and the next thing he knew, Paige was pregnant and she and his brother were getting married.
Taking a deep breath, Cole tried to release the rage that still gripped him whenever he thought of the callous way Craig had used Paige. It was one thing for his twin to come after him, but when his brother had involved her in his vindictive game, Craig had crossed a line. In Cole’s opinion, it was unforgivable.
But that was ancient history now. His window of opportunity with her had closed long ago. No matter what lengths Craig had gone to in order to win Paige, Cole had to accept the fact that she had remained with his brother for more than a decade. That had to mean they had been committed to their marriage, and whether or not he and his twin had gotten along, Cole was bound to honor that.
“I hope you like country fried steak,” Paige said, looking up when Cole walked into the kitchen.
The faint scent of his woodsy aftershave put her senses on full alert, but it was the way he looked that caused her pulse to race. His short, light brown hair was still damp from his shower, and he’d shaved off his five o’clock shadow. She barely resisted the urge to sigh when her gaze drifted lower. He was wearing a gray T-shirt with the R&N Builders logo in red, white and blue on the front; the knit fabric had to stretch to accommodate his bulging biceps and emphasized his well-developed shoulders and chest muscles. Her gaze traveled farther, causing her pulse to speed up. His worn jeans rode low on his narrow hips and clung to his muscular thighs like a second skin. She had to force herself to concentrate on removing the apple pie from the oven without dropping it.
Why did Cole have to be so good-looking and so darned masculine? And why on earth did she have to notice?
“I like just about anything homemade, but country fried steak is a favorite,” he answered, seemingly oblivious to her wayward thoughts. “Is there something I can do to help you finish up dinner?”
She shook her head as she placed their dessert on the kitchen island to cool, then reached for the platter of steaks and bowl of garlic and herb mashed potatoes. Carrying them over to the table, she motioned for him to sit down as she placed the dishes beside the garden salad she had prepared earlier. “I have everything ready if you’d like to take a seat.”
He remained standing as she poured them both a glass of iced tea, prompting her to ask, “Is there something else you’d like? I think I have a beer or two in the back of the refrigerator if you’d like one of those instead.”
He shook his head and stepped behind her chair as she set the pitcher on the table. “Tea is fine. I’m just waiting to pull out your chair for you.”
Paige tried to hide her surprise as she sat down. When was the last time a man had been chivalrous toward her? She couldn’t remember if Craig had ever shown her those kind of manners. Maybe when they’d first started dating or when they had attended one of the holiday balls at the Texas Cattleman’s Club and he’d noticed all of the other men pulling out their wives’ chairs for them. But she knew for certain that he had never done it for her when it was just the two of them sitting down for dinner at home.
“Thank you,” she murmured as Cole sat across the table from her.
He shook his head. “I’m the one who should be thanking you for making all of this. Everything looks and smells delicious.”
“I love to cook but rarely take the time anymore,” she said as they filled their plates. “Cooking for just myself isn’t as much fun as it is when I’m cooking for others.”
“You don’t have someone to do the cooking and cleaning?” he asked, taking a bite of his potatoes.
“After your father passed away, Maria stayed on as the cook and housekeeper for a couple of years before she retired,” Paige answered, smiling fondly as she remembered the sweet older woman who had helped her early in her marriage and had taken care of the house and helped raise the twins after the boys’ mother had died when they were five. “Craig wanted me to hire someone to replace her, but I talked him out of it.”
Cole frowned as he took a drink of his iced tea. “Why?”
“I’m not the type to spend a lot of time on the tennis court or golf course,” she said, trying not to notice the play of muscles in his forearms as he used his knife and fork to cut into the steak. “And until the tornado came through, my charity work only kept me busy a couple of days a week.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I had to have something to do to keep me busy.”
She wasn’t going to mention that she had hoped to fill her hours taking care of her children. But it didn’t appear that she was going to have any. And it was too emotionally painful to think that she might never have a child of her own.
They fell silent for a time before Cole asked, “Do you still paint? If I remember correctly, you used to be a fairly good artist when you were in school.”
“I hadn’t put a brush to canvas in years,” she said, surprised he remembered her love of art. “But I recently started painting again and thought I might turn Craig’s den into a studio.”
“Isn’t that room a little too dark?” Cole asked, frowning. “I thought natural light was better for painting.”
“It is,” she agreed, smiling. “Craig converted the sitting room off the family room into his office.”
“That would be a good place for a studio,” Cole said, taking a bite of his steak. “With that wall of windows on the east side, the lighting should be perfect in the mornings.”
“I thought so, too.” His genuine interest made her smile. It was nice for a change to have a conversation while she ate, instead of dining alone in silence. “Craig gave me your father’s den for my office when he converted that room and since I don’t need two, I think it’s the obvious choice for a studio.”
Cole looked thoughtful. “You know, the lighting would be even better if the south wall was all windows, as well.”
“I thought about that, but I wasn’t sure it was structurally possible,” she admitted. “What do you think?”
“It would need to be braced up in the attic since that’s a load-bearing wall and a couple of beams added for support where the two walls meet in the corner, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t work.” His smile caused her pulse to flutter. “I’ll check it out for you before I head back to Dallas and let you know for sure just what would need to be done.”
“I’d really appreciate that,” she said, excited at the possibility of having an artist’s studio with the perfect amount of natural lighting.
When she rose to cut them each a slice of apple pie, Cole carried their empty plates to the sink, rinsed them and placed them in the dishwasher. “No more work than I think it would take to make those changes, if you’d like, I could have my work crew get that done for you before we go back to Dallas.”
“Really?” she asked, her excitement for the project rapidly building. Craig hadn’t discouraged her love of art, but he had never encouraged it, either. “It could be done that soon?”
“Sure.”
Cole’s
