than just a few weeks’ worth. When the freezer was filled to the brim, she still had a couple of containers that wouldn’t fit.
“What are the chances you might have room in your kitchen freezer for these?”
“We can probably find a little space.”
“Excellent. Lead the way.”
He took her back to the kitchen, where the breakfast dishes waited in the sink.
She didn’t say anything about it, just headed for the side-by-side refrigerator and moved a few things around until she found room.
“Done,” she declared after the last plastic container had been stowed in the freezer. “That should at least keep you from having to eat McDonald’s for every meal.”
“I like McDonald’s,” Ty protested.
She smiled and placed a hand on his head. Something about the sight of that slender, pale hand on his son’s dark hair made his chest feel uncomfortably tight.
“McDonald’s is a once-in-a-while treat, not for every day,” she said, then deftly changed the subject before he could argue. “So are we building the world’s greatest snowman or what?”
“Yes! Jazmyn went to get her book that has a picture of a snowman in it. She wants to build one like that, she said. I’ll go tell her to hurry it up.”
“You do that.”
Once more, he was alone with Devin—not a good situation when he had suddenly become aware of a fierce urge to kiss that color from her cheeks.
She was so pretty and soft and he had spent the past half decade forced to wade through everything ugly and hard in the world.
“You don’t have to do this. The snowman thing, I mean,” he said. “They’ll live if I can’t get to it until tomorrow. Or they could always fumble through on their own.”
“I want to,” she assured him. “As long as you don’t mind, that is.”
“Why would I mind?” he asked. “You’re doing something fun with my kids.”
“Well, with one of them, anyway. We’ll see if Jazmyn will cooperate.”
“If Ty is doing something fun,” he said drily, “you can bet Jazmyn will come out to show you all the ways you’re doing it wrong.”
She smiled, a little lock of auburn hair slipping out of her beanie. He found his sudden urge to twist it around and around his finger quite appalling.
The silence between them was suddenly thick and rich as his grandmother’s Christmas toffee. She gazed at him for a long moment, then swallowed hard and shifted her gaze away. If he wasn’t mistaken, the color rose a little higher over her cheekbones.
He was almost relieved when his cell phone rang just then.
“This is the call I’ve been waiting for. It’s going to take a few minutes, I’m afraid, and as soon as I’m done, I need to head down to the barn to check on a few things. When you’re done playing around in the snow, just send the kids down there. They know the way.”
She swallowed again as she nodded. “I’ll do that. Thanks.”
He grabbed his cell phone and headed to the ranch office just off the family room, cursing himself for a sex-starved idiot and vowing to put the lovely doctor out of his mind.
AS SHE WATCHED Cole walk away with his phone at his ear, Devin took an unsteady breath and leaned against the countertop of his comfortable kitchen.
Holy ever-living wow.
Cole Barrett might just be the most gorgeous man she’d ever met in person, with all that sun-burnished skin, the firm jawline, that indefinable air of danger that seemed to stir and seethe around him. He had the sort of rough and rugged masculinity that made a woman want to whimper.
Too bad he didn’t have the personality to match.
He seemed cool, unapproachable and completely humorless. Maybe even a little arrogant.
That wasn’t necessarily a fair assessment, she corrected herself. He had been grateful enough for the food she had delivered from the Helping Hands and had even cracked a joke or two during their conversation. Those moments seemed few and far between, though, and her overall impression was of a stiff, unfriendly man who didn’t like her much.
He hadn’t smiled once. She had been watching for it.
Was that his natural mien or did she bring out the worst in him somehow?
“I’m ready,” Ty sang out. “Where are you?”
Devin forced herself to move from the kitchen and followed the sound of the boy’s voice to the foyer. He wore a red-and-blue parka that looked a size too big and a pair of gloves that didn’t match each other.
“He should wear a scarf,” Jazmyn said. “And you need to take another scarf out for the snowman. That’s what they wear, you know.”
“Good idea.” Devin couldn’t help being amused by this girl with her strong opinions and her obstinate nature. She wanted to hug her but she had a feeling Jazmyn wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. “It sounds like you know all about snowpeople. It’s a good thing you’re coming with us to show us what to do.”
“I can’t find my gloves so maybe I’ll just watch.”
“I saw them in the mudroom behind the hamper,” Ty said, probably foiling his sister’s master plan to stand by and supervise.
“We’ll start rolling and you can come out when you’re ready,” Devin said.
“Okay.”
As she and Ty headed for the door, the ancient-looking collie climbed slowly to her feet and followed after them.
“Can Coco help us?”
“Is this Coco? Hi there, sweetheart.” Devin scratched the dog’s head. She adored dogs and had always wanted one but her mother had claimed to be allergic when she was young and then she had become too busy with medical school to make it practical. Independent cats were a little more forgiving of the brutal schedules of medical residents and interns than a dog.
Fortunately, her sister had a fabulous dog, a beautiful cinnamon standard poodle named Paprika, and she let Devin hang out with her and take her for a walk whenever she needed that exuberant canine affection.
This dog had gray hairs around her mouth and moved with the slow care of many old creatures. She had kind eyes, though, and Devin fell for her as hard as she had for these two motherless children.
“Coco is my dad’s dog. She was my dad’s grandpa’s dog before that. Dad says she’s about as old as the moon and the stars.”
She
