for male bonding.
Now that Hank was actually here in the kitchen, though, she wondered. He seemed a little overwhelming somehow. At the wedding, he had infuriated her with such frequency that she’d barely noticed that he had an interesting effect on her pulse. She’d assumed that it had been part of her constant exasperation with him, but he’d done nothing in the past five minutes to flat out annoy her and her heart was reacting peculiarly just the same. Maybe it was the sight of all those empty calories—doughnuts, potato chips, corn curls.
“These have to go,” she said, taking a handful of packages and reaching for the garbage can.
Hank snatched them away from her, an expression of horror on his face. Indignation radiated from every considerable inch of him. “Are you out of your everlovin’ mind, woman? Liz said you wanted groceries. I brought groceries.”
“You brought junk. The kids will all be hyperactive if they eat that.”
“So tell ’em not to touch the stuff. I’ll sacrifice. I’ll eat every last chip myself.”
“You can’t tell children not to eat foods like that, then put them right smack in front of them.”
“I’ll hide every bit of it in my room.”
“See,” she said, waving a finger under his nose. “That is exactly what I mean. You’re addicted to that junk. That’s what it does to you.”
His blue eyes took on a challenging glint. “I enjoy it. I am not addicted to it. There’s a difference.”
“Smokers enjoy their cigarettes, too. That doesn’t mean they’re any less addicted.”
He took one step toward her, which put them toe-to-toe. Close enough for her to smell the minty freshness of his breath and the clean, masculine scent of his soap. Near enough to kiss. Oh, dear heaven.
“The food stays,” he said softly.
That gleam in his eyes turned dangerous. It might have been a warning about those damn corn curls, but she had a feeling it was something else entirely. She wasn’t particularly crazy about the alternative. She took a step backward, then lifted her chin to counter any impression of retreat.
“Keep them out of sight of the children.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
The response was polite enough, but the bold and brash tone made her want to slap him. Hard. She was shocked by the intensity of her desire to strike that smug, unrepentant expression off his face. She was a trained psychologist, a woman who believed in rational thought and the importance of calm communication. She did not believe in spankings for childish misbehavior, much less in beating up on people just because they infuriated her.
“Anything else?” he inquired.
She bit back a whole string of charges about his attitude. He was Liz’s friend. Well, more precisely he was Todd’s friend, but she would tolerate him just the same. He was only a temporary boarder, after all. With any luck he’d chafe at the restrictions of living with them and be gone by the following weekend.
“Dinner’s at seven. We all help. House rule.”
“No problem.”
“There are others. Rules are important, especially for kids who aren’t used to having anyone around who cares enough to enforce them. I’ll explain them as the occasions arise.” She tried her best to make it sound as though the household adhered to strict military discipline.
“Whatever you say.”
She hadn’t expected him to be quite so agreeable. For some reason, it increased her irritation. She nodded curtly. “Then I’ll show you to your room.”
Before they could even gather up his suitcases, though, there was another of those bloodcurdling yelps from the far side of the house. Ann dropped the bag she was holding and took off at a run.
“Does everyone in this house do that?” Hank said, sprinting after her.
“Only when disaster strikes.” She hoped that sounded sufficiently ominous to terrify him.
“Does it strike often?” he inquired with what sounded more like curiosity than panic.
“If it makes you nervous—” she began.
“It does not make me nervous. I’m just worried it might be bad for their lungs.”
“Their lungs are very healthy, except maybe for Paul’s. He’s had a few too many colds this winter.” She paused in midstep. “I wonder why that is?”
Hank looked confused. “Why what is?”
“Why Paul was the only one to get so many colds?”
“Is this something you really need to figure out now? Shouldn’t we find out why someone screamed?”
“Right.” She turned a corner into the west wing of the house. “My guess is that the tub is overflowing. Sometimes the faucet leaks and the drain stops up. When both things happen together, well, you can imagine.”
As if to prove her point, her sneaker-clad feet hit a wet patch of floor and shot out from under her. Hank grabbed her from behind and held her upright. She enjoyed the sensation of his hands on her waist far too much. She was almost disappointed when he released her. It was not a good sign.
“Stay here,” he ordered in the tone of a man used to taking charge. That tone snapped her back to reality. She immediately bristled when he added, “I’ll take care of it.”
As if she needed him to, she thought with well-honed defensiveness. “I can handle it,” she said, stepping past him and immediately skidding again.
“Stay put before you break your neck.”
Leaving her sputtering indignantly, he waded off through water that was already soaking the hallway rugs. She glared after him. She could either make an utter ass of herself by arguing or she could do the pragmatic thing and help. Life had taught her the importance of being pragmatic.
She grabbed up the rugs and took them outside, then ran back for a mop. She was trying to stem the flow of water when Hank emerged from the bathroom with Melissa and Tommy wrapped in towels and tucked awkwardly under his arms like a couple of sacks of grain. He looked decidedly nervous. He handed them over as if he couldn’t get rid of them fast enough.
“I’m going to get a couple of tools out of the truck. You might want to find some dry clothes for these two.”
“Where’s Tracy?”
“I left her figuratively holding her finger in the dike. Other than her hysterical scream, she keeps a pretty cool head in a crisis. This could have been a lot worse.”
“She’s used to it. The tub overflows about twice a week.”
Melissa and Tommy, who’d seemed tongue-tied until now, began chattering enthusiastically about splashing through the water. Unfortunately it had become their favorite form of recreation. Ann had a suspicion they were secretly
