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anything?”
    “No. We have everything. I just want to warn you that Daniel has invited some of his single buddies and now that they know you’re available, you may get more attention than you want.”
    Celia smothered a groan. She was more than familiar with Daniel Walsh’s buddies. They were overly friendly, good-natured and quite vociferous after imbibing one too many beers. She didn’t know if Gavin had plans for the weekend, but if she invited him to go with her, then he would become her buffer.
    “Would you mind if I bring a guest?”
    “Of course I don’t mind. The more the merrier. I’m going to have as much fun as I can before the baby comes. Having to care for a newborn while dealing with a two-year-old and balancing a career will definitely test my patience and my sanity.”
    “You’ll do just fine, Hannah, only because you’re the most organized person I’ve ever met.”
    “Don’t you mean obsessive-compulsive?”
    “That, too,” Celia teased. “What time should I come?”
    “I’m telling everyone to come around two.”
    “I’ll see you Saturday at two.” She hung up and glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. It was nine-forty. She had to get dressed and be ready to leave by ten.
     
    “Is there something wrong, Gavin?”
    Gavin blinked as if coming out of a trance. Celia Cole-Thomas was a chameleon. Each time he saw hershe looked different. This morning, she’d brushed her hair off her face and secured it in a twist on the nape of her long, slender neck. A white linen blouse, black tailored slacks and a pair of ballet-type patent leather flats bespoke simple elegance. The pearl studs in her ears matched the single strand around her neck, while a light cover of makeup accentuated her large eyes and lush mouth.
    “No,” he admitted. “You look—wonderful.” He’d said wonderful when he’d wanted to tell Celia that she looked beautiful. He took a step, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And you smell delicious.”
    A flush heated her face. Celia wanted to tell Gavin he looked and smelled delicious, too. The aftershave on his clean-shaven jaw was the perfect complement for his body’s natural masculine scent.
    “Thank you. Please come in.”
    Gavin stepped into the entryway, his penetrating gaze cataloguing the furnishings. The night before, he’d been too involved with helping Celia with Terry to take note of anything.
    “How’s Terry?” he asked, following Celia into the living room of the split-level house. The fireplace was the room’s focal point, competing only with the arch in the ceiling paneled with fir and illuminated with concealed strip lighting. The walls, covered with a coffee-colored fabric, complemented varying shades of cream and tan suede and leather on a club chair, love seat and sofa.
    Celia smiled at Gavin over her shoulder. “Come and see for yourself.”
    Slowing, he glanced around the dining area, mapped out by a border of cherry inlay in the oak flooring.Sunlight coming in through oak-framed French doors spilled over the gleaming waxed floor. A bouquet of yellow and white spring blooms on a cherrywood table added a homey touch.
    An island separated the open kitchen—with stainless-steel appliances—and the dining room; the ceiling styles in the two spaces were as varied and intricate as the one in the living room. The ceiling was flat over the kitchen with recessed lighting, while it was pitched over the dining area. Glass inserts in the kitchen cabinets came to the same roof-like peak as the cathedral ceiling over the dining table.
    The abundance of wood imbued a sense of warmth and hominess. A cushioned sitting area—reminiscent of a window seat—under a row of windows was the perfect spot to sit, read or survey the activity in the kitchen and dining area at the same time.
    “Do you own this house, or are you renting it?” Gavin had asked a question to which he knew the answer.
    “I own it.”
    “How long have you lived here?” He’d