up, he thought, recalling the soft swell of her breasts under the pink cotton knit shirt she wore. Her eyes were bigger than he’d remembered, the green darker. Before, she’d always worn her mass of red hair in a ponytail or pinned up. Now, long auburn curls framed her heart-shaped face and emphasized her high cheeks and wide, sensuous lips.
Sensuous? Had he really thought that about Kasey? He wanted to kick himself. Kasey’s sons were staring up at him, their expressions serious, as if they’d heard every unspoken thought. Feeling guilty, Slater looked away and shifted uncomfortably.
“You come here to see my mom?” Cody asked.
It was the older boy who’d asked the question, Slater realized. Cody. He nodded to the child. “That’s right.”
“Why?”
Slater raised his brows, then knelt in front of the boys. “We used to be friends.”
“Aren’t you anymore?
Good question, Slater thought. “I hope so.”
Cody seemed to think about that for a moment. The younger boy, Troy, moved closer and stared intently.
“That’s a neat scar,” Troy said, finding his voice. “Would you like to marry our mom?”
Slater doubted that a two-by-four across his head could have hit him harder. Were things that bad with Kasey that her own sons were interviewing potential husbands for her? Speechless, he stared at the two boys. They stood in front of him, their eyes locked on his, waiting for an answer. He didn’t want to hurt their feelings, or offend Kasey, but the fact was, he had no intention of marrying anyone. He liked his life just fine as it was.
Slater ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I...it’s like this, boys, I, uh, think your mom’s great and all, but—”
“The nerve of some people!”
Slater nearly fell backward at Kasey’s sudden exclamation. She stood at the kitchen doorway, arms folded tightly. Slater stood abruptly, bumping into the entryway table.
“It’s nothing, personal, Kasey, I just—”
“Nothing personal?” She moved into the room, her eyes flashing. “Nothing personal? Of course, it’s personal!”
“I’m sorry, Kase, I just don’t—”
“Why should you be sorry?” She threw her arms out, then jammed them onto her slim hips. “I place an ad for a simple business deal, and all the guy cares about is my financial statement and bloodlines.”
Financial statement? Bloodlines? Slater felt his own blood begin to boil. Kasey Donovan came from the finest people that were ever born, and as far as financial statements were concerned, if some slime-jerk wanted money to marry Kasey, then he wasn’t fit to be in the same room with her. Hell, the same state even!
Is that all this was to her? A business deal? Thank God he’d gotten here before she’d done anything stupid. He had to make her see that she couldn’t go ahead with this ridiculous scheme.
“Kasey—” Slater looked at Cody and Troy “—could I talk to you, uh, privately?”
Still frowning, Kasey stared at Slater for a moment, then snapped out of her tirade. “Oh, of course. Cody, Troy, go get your suitcases out of the car and unpack while I talk to Slater.”
They started to argue, but one look, a look only a mother can perfect, had both boys turning away, shoulders slumped.
“Come, on, Slate.” She turned and walked back to the kitchen. “Give a hand while I get dinner started. You’re staying, of course.”
Just like the old days, he thought with a smile and followed. But when she bent to search through a stack of cans in the corner pantry, Kasey’s well-rounded bottom encased in snug jeans reminded him this was definitely not the old days, and she definitely was not the same Kasey.
Clearing his throat, he looked away and studied a blue-framed needlepoint by the back door that said, Home Is Where The Heart Is.
“Here—” she tossed him a can of green beans then headed for the refrigerator “—open these while I mix the hamburgers. So you’re into oil now, huh? Where you working?”
He caught the can and turned to the electric opener on the counter beside the sink. “I’ve got a job starting on an Alaskan rig in three weeks.”
“Alaska!” Hamburger in one hand and an onion in the other, Kasey closed the refrigerator door with a bump of her hip. “You hate the cold. Remember the ski trip we took to Colorado? You were miserable the whole time.”
He didn’t exactly hate it, he just preferred the heat. And this was getting way off the subject he wanted to pursue. “Look, Kasey, about your ad in the paper—”
“You saw it?” She closed the refrigerator and stared at him in amazement. “How?”
He wasn’t quite ready to explain that he’d subscribed to the Granite Ridge Gazette for the past ten years. Ignoring her question, he clipped the can of green beans onto the opener, turned it on, and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Kase, there are always options.”
Still holding the package of hamburger in her hand, she stared blankly at him. “Options?”
“Alternatives, another way to, uh, deal with your situation.”
She frowned. “Well, I suppose there are, but I really haven’t the time or money for anything else. Besides, the good old-fashioned way is more my style. At least this way, if it doesn’t work, I can get my money back.”
Slater’s hand slipped off the electric can opener and the can clattered onto the counter.
“Get your money back?” he rasped. “You mean to tell me you’re actually going to pay someone to marry you?”
Two
Kasey blinked. A slow opening and closing of her lids, as if, in the space between dark and light. Slater’s words might actually make some sense.
Pay someone to marry her?
What, on God’s good earth, was he talking about?
All she could do was stare, despite the fact that green beans were running over the counter and into the sink, despite the fact that Slater was waiting for her to say something.
Had he slipped in a puddle of oil and fallen off a derrick? Or maybe a loose coupling had knocked him in the head. Maybe that scar on his forehead had been a more serious injury than it appeared.
She cleared her throat and met his dark, intense gaze. “Excuse me?”
He frowned. “Look, Kasey, I know it’s none of my business. You’re obviously a big girl now. But advertising for a husband in a newspaper is just not safe. God only knows what kind of maniac might show up at your door.”
A maniac did show up at her door, she thought in disbelief. Him. “Slater,” she said quietly, “could you, uh, explain
