style="font-size:15px;"> “Think we’re having chili?” Mitch asked as they climbed the front porch stairs. “That or omelets.”
But the scent that hit Mitch when he opened the door was of frying onions. His mouth watered. “Smell’s great,” he said, leaning a shoulder against the kitchen wall, waiting for Austin to finish up in the bathroom before taking his turn.
“Cheese omelets,” she said. “Fried potatoes and onions, sliced tomatoes. Plenty of bread, too.”
He spotted an electric bread maker on the counter. She must’ve put the ingredients in earlier.
“Anything I can do?”
“It’s under control, thanks.”
Mitch watched her turn out a large omelet onto a plate, then she pulled two plates from inside the oven, with smaller omelets already on them, and started piling them with potatoes and onions. She knew her way around her kitchen, her movements smooth and practiced. His gaze landed on the apron bow that rested just below the small of her back, inviting a playful tug, he thought, then a sweep of his hands over her smooth, tight rear.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. He turned to one side, the doorjamb blocking her view before she could notice he was getting aroused. That would be the quickest way to be sent packing, for sure.
“Thanks for your patience with Austin, Mitch. He’s a very curious boy. I know he asks a lot of questions.”
“He’s a good kid. You’ve raised him well.” He hears you cry during the night, and he worries about you, is protective of you. “He told me you can fix just about everything.”
“‘Necessity is the mother of invention.’ I’m grateful for the internet. I can pull up instructions on how to do most anything.”
“Then why’d you need a handyman?”
“Muscle. Can’t get that online, can I?”
Austin came running down the hall and took a seat at the table. Mitch didn’t spend a lot of time cleaning up, either, anxious to dig in. The omelets were light, perfectly cooked, the bread fresh and hot, no butter necessary, which was a good thing, since she hadn’t put any on the table. The potatoes and onions were browned and mouthwatering.
“I’d forgotten how good a tomato can taste,” he said.
“From vine to table in ten minutes. Can’t get better than that,” Annie said.
Mitch saw her shoulders drop, her face smooth out, and was glad for the visible signs of relaxation. “What do you do after dinner?”
“We commune with nature,” Austin said, grinning.
Annie swatted him playfully. “We chase the chickens into their roost. Actually Bo herds them, and we shut them in. After that we tidy up the grounds, do a little raking, that sort of thing. Then we sit on the porch and admire our land.”
“Or play video games or watch TV,” Austin added.
“And I have lots of computer work to do. Then we’re in bed pretty early.”
“The life of a farmer,” Mitch said.
“And ranchers,” Annie said.
“Definitely. So, who does the dishes?”
“Mom washes. I dry.” Austin stood and gathered plates.
“How about if I dry tonight?” Mitch suggested.
Annie zeroed in on him, wondering why he would volunteer to help with dishes. Because it would put them close to each other? She hadn’t missed all the looks he’d given her while they’d worked.
“Unless there’s a chore you want me to tackle instead, boss?”
Boss? She saw his mouth twitch just slightly. She was also aware of Austin waiting for her answer. Drying dishes wasn’t his favorite task. “If you feel like raking, Mitch, I’d be happy to turn that task over to you.”
“No problem.” He took his own plate to the kitchen, winked at her, then left the house.
She let out the breath she’d been holding. The man was easy to be around. Too easy—except for the feelings he stirred inside her, dead so long she’d forgotten such feelings existed. Those weren’t easy at all, creating a complication she didn’t want or need.
At least he uses condoms.
The thought made her smile.
“What’s so funny, Mom?”
She rinsed a handful of silverware and passed them to Austin. “I just feel good.”
“It’s Mitch.” Austin nodded sagely. “Even Bo likes him, and Bo doesn’t usually let strangers near me. I hope he’s around for a while,” he added in almost a whisper, as if wishing it out loud would destroy the possibility.
“Can’t afford him for long, honey. Sounds like he doesn’t stay in one place for any amount of time, either.”
“I know. Why doesn’t he tell us his last name? Do you think he’s hiding from someone?”
“I don’t have an answer for that, Austin. He must have a good reason.”
Done with the dishes, she nudged him with her hip until he smiled.
“A day at a time,” she said, crooking her pinky finger at him.
He hooked hers with his, something they’d done every day since her ex left. “Day at a time.”
An hour later the evening chores were done. They sat on the porch, Annie and Austin on a glider, Mitch in a rocker. No one spoke for a few minutes.
“Your coop needs some repairs,” Mitch said.
Annie pulled up a knee and wrapped her arm around it, staring at the horizon. “Yep.”
“Got any chicken wire?”
“Nope. So far they haven’t figured out they can escape. It’ll have to wait until the new greenhouse is up. That’s my priority. That’s my income. The chickens just help keep us fed.”
“I’d be just as worried about something else getting in. Foxes, even wild dogs, valley coyote. Even a cat could cause damage.”
Annie’s heart sank. Of course he was right. She hadn’t even considered it.
“Chicken talk,” Austin said with a sigh. “Can I go play video games instead?”
“Sure.”
He disappeared inside almost before she said the word.
Mitch stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles, looking comfortable. “You mentioned something about expanding your flower beds into the acreage behind the orchard. Is that something you plan to do this year?”
“Probably
