a job that interested her for very long—or a man worth making any kind of commitment to.
Angie didn’t respond to Julia’s question. Instead, she thanked Julia, took the two bags of groceries and headed for her car.
No, Toby Fortune Jones wasn’t in the running when it came to considering romantic possibilities.
But if he wasn’t an option, then what was he?
The answer came to her as she placed the pizza fixings into her car and prepared to head for the Double H Ranch.
Toby Fortune was one fine cowboy who was far too attractive for her own good.
After Toby finished overseeing the homework hour, he told the kids they could watch television before dinner. Then he went into the kitchen to check the pantry. It wasn’t as though his cupboards were bare. He could certainly rustle up something to add to whatever Angie planned to cook.
He’d no more than scanned the canned goods in the pantry when he heard a car pull up. Knowing it had to be her, he went outside to greet her.
As she climbed out of the driver’s seat of a black Toyota Celica that had seen better years, let alone days, she reached into the back for the first of two eco-friendly bags. Her hair had been pulled back in a ponytail when she’d been at Redmond-Fortune Air, but it hung loose around her shoulders now—soft, glossy and teased by a light evening breeze.
She wasn’t wearing anything different—just that black skirt and white blouse. Yet tonight, for some crazy reason, he found himself a wee bit... Hell, he didn’t know what to call it—starstruck, stagestruck, dumbstruck...?
“Here. Let me help you with those.” He reached for the bags, and she handed them over.
As they headed for the house, he said, “I’m sorry for not having stuff on hand to cook. When I lived by myself, I could go weeks without grocery shopping. But since the kids have been living here, it seems like I need to restock my fridge every other day.”
She tossed him a carefree smile. “You should probably shop at one of those warehouse stores where you can buy in bulk and use a flatbed cart to haul your purchases to the checkout line.”
“If I didn’t have to drive clear to Lubbock to find one, I would. But then again, the kids wouldn’t get to come into the Superette all the time and see you.”
Toby chanced a glance at the woman walking next to him, wondering if she knew the kids weren’t the only ones who’d miss seeing her.
“The kids are fun,” she said. “I like it when they come in.”
What if he didn’t have children? Would she like it when he came in?
“Nice house,” she said, as they entered the living room, which always managed to stay tidy because there wasn’t a television set or a video game in sight. “I’ve always liked the ranch style.”
Toby slowed his steps long enough to scan the white walls, the open-beamed ceilings, the distressed hardwood floors, the stone fireplace, as well as the leather furniture. “Thanks. I’ve been meaning to add a little color, maybe some Southwestern-style pictures on the wall, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“I’m sure the kids take up most of your free time.”
“You got that right.” He carried her purchases into the kitchen and placed the bags on the white tile countertop.
“What are we having?” he asked.
“Pizza. And just the way everyone likes it.”
“Great idea. But I’ve never told you my pizza preference.” There had to be some things even Ms. Google didn’t know, unless she was psychic.
She tossed him a breezy smile. “I’ll bet I even have your specific preference covered.”
Something told him not to take her up on any wagers or else he’d end up in some wacky competition with her, just like Mr. Murdock.
But then again, Toby had always liked a good challenge. And Angie Edwards would prove to be one heck of one—if he were to pursue her.
“Hmm,” she said, as she studied the directions on the box of instant bread-dough mix. “This might not be enough. Do you have any flour?”
“It’s in the pantry. I’ll get it. Is there anything else I can do to help?”
“You can wash the veggies, chop them up and put them in separate containers. Do you have a cutting board and knife?”
“Sure do.”
While Toby got busy on his assignments, Angie began kneading the dough. Next they sliced the pepperoni and grated the cheese. Before long, they were moving around the kitchen seamlessly, almost as if they’d worked together a hundred times.
“So let me ask you something,” Angie said.
Oh, no, here it comes, he thought. She wants to know why I keep showing up at her workplaces and inviting her to hang out with me and the kids.
“How do you do it?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“I couldn’t help noticing your refrigerator door. It’s plastered with papers—Kylie’s artwork, Justin’s B+ in spelling, the graph Brian created in math, not to mention that bulletin board with the YMCA flyers posted all over it. Then there’s a list of dance classes and the schedule for swim lessons. I’m amazed that a single dad is so supportive of his kids. But what really blows me away is that LEGO-themed calendar you have on the wall.”
“When I was a kid, our fridge was always covered in stuff like that. And my mom used to display all our awards and trophies throughout the house. She kept a bulletin board in the kitchen, too. Right next to the telephone. But why does the calendar surprise you?”
“Because almost every square this month is full. And just look at this list of YMCA classes. Nearly all of them are circled.”
“You think that’s too many?”
“Not for the kids. It’s great for them. But the YMCA is in Vicker’s Corners, which is a bit of a drive from the ranch. And I’m worried about you. I was an only child, with two parents. And it was all they could do to get me to school, the sitter and to any medical appointments.”
“I have to admit, it’s tough sometimes.”
She crossed her arms, as if she was going to scold him, but she smiled and her eyes sparkled in mirth. “Toby, you’re doing it to yourself. It’s only April, and you have them in swim lessons? It’s not even summer vacation yet.”
“I know, but Justin can’t swim. And he wants to go to camp in June. So I figured we’d better get started on those lessons so I won’t have to worry about him.” Toby shrugged and added, “Besides, I don’t mind running them around. They’ve had it rough ever since their mom died. And
