She frowned again. “How could you make a fool of yourself?”
“I kissed her.”
Her eyes popped. “You kissed an engaged woman?”
He tossed his hands in despair. “I didn’t know she was engaged.”
“Oh, darling, I’m sorry. I’d sort of forgotten that part of the story.” She winced. “I’d heard about how his parents had found the engagement ring.” Her eyes pleaded for forgiveness. “You know I don’t like to gossip, but her accident with Jason was the worst thing to happen in town for a decade. We all knew every excruciating detail.”
“So Kate knew?”
“Well, yes.” She thought for a second. “Honestly, Chance, with Jason in a personal care facility, and him not really proposing, I have to admit that I assumed Tory had moved on. If Kate somehow plays into you kissing Tory, I’m guessing she thought as I did that Tory had moved on.” Her brow furrowed. “But for you to be so upset about kissing her, that has to mean she hasn’t.”
“No. She hasn’t. She wears the ring on a chain around her neck.”
“How romantic.” She caught Chance’s gaze. “And loyal.” She shook her head. “What a remarkable woman.”
“Um. Thanks, Mom. I’m trying to think of ways to stop liking her and you’re not helping.”
She laughed. “Chance, you’re falling for her because she’s helping you with your kids. That’s all. You’re just grateful. You need to get out and mingle more.”
“I don’t want another relationship. Obviously, I’m no good at them. And I don’t want the kids to get involved with someone only to get hurt when it doesn’t work out.”
“Then it sounds like you’re going to have to start doing things like eat out more. As it is, you’re practically playing house.”
He nodded. That made perfect sense. His feelings for Tory were probably just an extension of their living arrangement. Being together almost twenty-four/seven did feel like playing house.
So all he had to do was avoid her.
But the next morning, instead of her usual flannel pajamas Tory wore a pair that was soft and pretty. He hurried out of the house so he didn’t spend so much time gaping at her. But around ten Tory called him, telling him the babies missed him and hearing her voice turned his heart into a jackhammer.
He had supper with his mom that night, and when he returned Tory was already in bed. He breathed a sigh of relief until the next morning when her sleep-tousled hair reminded him of things that were best not thought about around two babies.
By Friday he was just about crazy from the attraction. He told himself the lust racing through him was undoubtedly the result of wanting something he couldn’t have—forbidden fruit. And though that worked, he had dinner with his mom.
On Saturday morning, Tory helped him with the kids’ wakeup routine. They played with them, fed them jars of smashed up veggies and fruit for lunch and then put them down for a nap. Just when he would have ducked out to save himself from having to spend too much time with her, Robert brought their lunch down from Cook.
As she opened the containers, he set dishes on the table, his gut twisting with a cross between giddiness and trepidation that they’d spend an hour alone. He was supposed to be avoiding spending too much time with her. Yet here he was, about to have lunch.
“So did you enjoy dinner at your mom’s last night?”
He stiffened. Though her voice was soft and sweet, her question was the kind of question a friend would ask another friend. And part of him just wanted to answer. To like her. To be her friend. But he knew how that scenario ended. Every time they got close he wanted to be more than friends.
All of this would be so much easier if they didn’t have to live together. But they did. That’s how she cared for the babies.
Still, did she have to do things like arrange for him to eat lunch with her? If she left at noon on Saturdays and Sundays the way she was supposed to, he wouldn’t be fighting these feelings right now.
Reminded of the stiff, but safe, way his mom ran her house, he decided that maybe it was time he took a page out of her book. His mother, though generous with staff, didn’t become friends with them.
“My mother’s a wonderful hostess.”
“Yes. She is.” She filled a bowl with soup and handed it to him. “Anybody interesting there?”
“Yes.” Lots of people. But if he intended to put some distance between them, then they shouldn’t be talking. He knew his feelings were all being dictated by an unholy combination of biology and hormones. He knew it was easy for a guy to fall for the woman who was helping him with his kids. And she was really tempting.