kids, but there was something about this little guy—maybe it was his resemblance to his mama?—that drew him in. He smiled, inclining his head at the tyke. “Cute.”
“Thanks,” Callie murmured. And this time her smile appeared genuine.
Looking ready to make himself at home, Brian took off his Stetson and attempted to fit it over the newel on the staircase. It fell to the floor instead. He reached for it, tried again and missed by an even wider margin.
Nash leaned down. “Let me help you, little fella.”
“No,” Brian retorted with the stubbornness he evidently got from his gorgeous, dark-haired mama. “I do.”
Nash lifted his hands and stepped back.
Seeming torn between correcting her son and getting on with it, Callie blew out a breath and handed Nash the basket. “Inside you’ll find our welcome-to-the-neighborhood dinner. Homemade Texas chili and cornbread, fruit compote and chocolate cake.”
Nash couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a hot, home-cooked meal. Most of his meals were either from a restaurant or the freezer section of the local supermarket.
“Seriously?”
She shrugged. “Nothing I wouldn’t do for anyone else moving in.”
Nash figured that was probably true.
“The chili and cornbread are still hot.”
She was killing him; she had to know that.
Aware he was attracted when he shouldn’t be, he went on a fishing expedition. “I imagine your husband is expecting you home soon?”
Again, that pause. A definite evasion.
“Ah, no,” she said finally.
Which meant what? Nash wondered. Was she separated? Getting a divorce? Just unattended and unhappy?
Not that it was any of his business. Except, they were neighbors and, in the Lone Star State, anyway, neighbors looked out for one another.
Furthermore, his gut told him that Callie McCabe-Grimes definitely was in need of some—if not TLC—then, at least, amiable concern.
Meanwhile, little Brian was still tossing his hat at the newel post. And missing. Again. And again.
To her credit, Callie stood back and let the little fella keep on trying.
Aware he wouldn’t mind a chance to ease the rift between them and get to know a little more about his new neighbors, Nash turned back to Callie. She was right—there was no time like the present to start over. “Have you and your son eaten?” he asked impulsively.
Callie blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “Well, no...not yet...but...”
Nash gazed deep into her aqua-blue eyes and took another leap of faith. Maybe there was a helluva lot more to her than had first appeared. “Want to join me?”
Nash Echols was a man who was full of surprises, Callie acknowledged. The least of which was his current chivalry. Which seemed, at the moment anyway, to be as deeply ingrained as her own usual good manners.
Had she confronted him about the ruckus in any other way, she might have had a very different result. But she hadn’t, and now she had to deal with the consequences of her earlier outburst. And what was, at best, a very awkward situation.
Nash’s sexy smile widened as he continued in a silky smooth voice that ratcheted up the tension inside her even more, “I’m more than willing to share this delicious spread. I assume you brought enough?”
Glad she had one of the most effective chaperones ever put on this earth with her, as well as a reason to depart quickly once her mission was accomplished, Callie nodded. “Except...Brian doesn’t eat chili. It’s too spicy.”
His gray eyes twinkled. “Will he eat cornbread and fruit, and—” Nash paused, clearly thinking how to phrase it “ —the last course?”
Callie nodded, aware her son was listening intently now—and clearly a little enamored of Nash. Maybe this was a good time to work out a solution to their mutual problem. “Oh, yes. He loves c-a-k-e.”
“Cake, Mommy!” Brian yelled.
“Some things, he can spell,” Callie said dryly.
Nash chuckled. “Well, then, we’re all set.”
Callie studied him cautiously, trying—and failing—not to be turned on by the sleek, suntanned skin over his wide, inviting shoulders and nicely sculpted chest and abs. “You’re sure it’s not an imposition?”
A slow grin tugged at the corners of his sensual lips. “I wouldn’t have asked if it was. Dishes are in the cabinets. Help yourself. I’m going to finish getting dressed then I’ll be right back.”
Yes, dressed was a good idea.
Standing there talking with him, when he was only half-clothed, had conjured up a wellspring of longing that was destined to go unmet.
“Right back, Mommy,” Brian echoed, snapping her out of her reverie.
Callie knelt to help her son off with his coat.
Nash headed upstairs. By the time he came back down, Callie had set out the food, situated Brian on a stack of phone books and pulled his chair up to the table.
Nash extended his hand. “Let’s start over,” he said, every bit the Texas gentleman now. “I’m Nash Echols.”
Warmth spiraled through her. “Callie McCabe-Grimes,” she added with a smile. “And my son, Brian.”
Nash helped her with her chair. For the next few minutes, they talked about where they both grew up. Dallas for him, Laramie, Texas, for her. The conversation then segued into where they’d gone to college, and the fact that, after graduation, she’d had her first business experience in Dallas, whereas he had spent ten years working in the Pacific Northwest, before coming back to his home state.
Nash helped himself to more chili. He topped it with pico de gallo, cheddar and sour cream. “How did you end up in this part of the state?”
Callie cut her son’s cornbread into bite-size pieces. “My twin sister, Maggie, and I planned joint nuptials at the Double Knot Wedding Ranch on Sanders Mountain. She had second thoughts and bolted during the ceremony, so I was the only one to actually get married that day.”
Nash grinned at Callie over the rim of his iced tea. “That sounds like quite a story.”
Nodding, Callie returned his smile. “Maggie stayed on at the ranch after her failed wedding to work off her debt. Fell in love with their son, Hart Sanders, and his little boy, Henry. And then they eventually tied the knot.” She paused. “Do you know Hart?”
Nash smiled fondly. “We go way back. I used
