Chapter Six

      Noah picked the kids up from Evie’s that afternoon. He found his sister and three youngest children in her pottery/art studio, all four of them cutting up cardboard and crepe paper. Pots of glue and an assortment of other hobby equipment lay on the big table in the middle of the room.

      They all cheered a round of hellos when he walked into the room and perched on a stool near the kitchenette to the right of the door. Evie left the kids to their crafting and joined him.

      “Coffee?” she asked and grabbed a couple of mugs. He nodded and she poured from the pot of filtered brew. “You’re early today.”

      Noah glanced at his watch. “Not by much.”

      His sister raised her brows. “Bad day at the office?”

      “Not particularly.” An unusual day. A day filled with thoughts of Callie. Like most of his days lately.

      “Trevor has a video-game party planned for tomorrow night,” she said of her fifteen-year-old son. “Do you feel like coming round for dinner? M.J.’s coming over, too.”

      “I have plans,” he said and drank some coffee.

      Evie’s eyes widened instantly. “A date?”

      Noah didn’t know what to call it. “Sort of.”

      “Anyone I know?”

      Like a dog with a bone, Noah knew his sister wouldn’t let up. Besides, he had nothing to hide about his relationship with Callie. Relationship? Is that what it was? It felt … he didn’t know what the hell it felt like. Something. Everything. Like she was the air inside his lungs and he couldn’t draw in enough breath. His desire for Callie burned a hole through him. And I haven’t even really kissed her. He’d thought about it, though. He’d imagined it. Dreamed about it. Wanted it so much he could barely think about anything else.

      “Callie.”

      Evie didn’t bat a lash. “No surprise there.”

      “I suppose not.” He finished his coffee and stood. “I should get going.”

      “Sometimes you have to try people on,” Evie said quietly. “To see if they fit.”

      Noah looked at his sister. “That’s not the problem.”

      “So there is a problem?” she asked.

      He shrugged and felt like spilling his guts, but he didn’t. Because what he felt, what he knew was that beneath the sassy, quick temper and barriers she’d erected around herself was an incredibly fragile woman. A woman who’d been hurt.

       I’m going to get my heart kicked in …

      That’s what he felt deep down. That she was all risk. Like the wildest ride at a theme park. Like parachuting without a chute. But … despite feeling that way, Noah was unbelievably drawn to her. He wanted her, even with the threat of losing himself. And knowing he was prepared to take that chance turned him inside out. Because Noah never risked himself emotionally. He couldn’t afford to. The kids needed stability—they needed a parent who could be relied upon to always do the right thing by them. And if he was to bring another woman into their life, that woman had to do the right thing by them also. They needed unreserved love.

      Could Callie do that? Could he trust her to love them? He just didn’t know.

      “There’s no problem,” he said to his sister. “Thanks for watching them. I’ll see you soon.”

      As Callie zipped up her favorite sundress—the white one with sprigs of tiny blue flowers—and stepped into a pair of silver sandals, she could hear Fiona’s voice calling from the kitchen. Her friend had arrived to work her horse and had stayed for a coffee and chat.

      “So, you’re going on a date with Noah?”

      “It’s not a date,” Callie insisted as she headed from the bedroom. “It’s just dinner.”

      When Callie reached the kitchen Fiona was standing by the sink. “At his home? With his kids?” Her friend raised both brows. “That’s a date.”

      Of course it’s a date. I like him. I’m attracted to him.

      Just because they weren’t going out dining and dancing alone didn’t mean it was anything other than a real date.

      I shouldn’t go. I should keep to my plan and not get involved.

      But Callie knew it was too late for that.

      She arrived at the Preston home at exactly six o’clock. She grabbed her tote, locked the truck and headed toward the front porch. At the top of the few steps lay a sleepy-looking golden retriever who barely lifted its head at her presence. It made her smile, thinking of Tessa and her boundless energy.

      “That’s Harry,” said a small voice. A young boy stood behind the screen door. He opened it and stepped in front of her. “He’s very lazy.”

      She smiled “So I see. Not much of a guard dog, then?”

      Jamie giggled. “Nope. And he snores really loud.” He opened the door and stood to the