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the car to the curb in front of her brownstone.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    Before he could stop it, the question was out: “Can I come in?”
    She gazed at him with eyes that still glistened more than they should.
    “I’m not looking for sex,” he said quickly. “I just want to make you dinner while you shower and make sure you go to bed as soon as you’ve eaten.”
    Her eyes widened. “You want to mother me?”
    Jesus, she was beautiful, puffy eyes, blotchy face and all. “I want to take care of you. If you get fed up with me, you can tell me to leave and I’ll go. You have my word on that.”
    He saw the struggle plainly on her face. The disciplined career woman in her was clearly telling her to send him on his way. The practical, safe side of her personality was no doubt advising her similarly. But the courageously passionate woman she’d showed him last night prevailed.
    “Can you make macaroni and cheese?”
    Ah, the ultimate comfort food. “The cheesiest.”
    “Okay, come on up.”
    Once inside, he told her to take her time, since the mac and cheese would take an hour from scratch, and she did. Clearly, she’d put the time to good use. When she finally showed herself in the kitchen again, her face bore no evidence of her earlier tears. And this despite the fact she wore no makeup. Or at least, nothing he could discern.
    “You look great,” he said, pulling out a chair for her at one of the places he’d set at the granite-topped island. He’d thought about setting the dining room table and lighting some low candles, but figured that would smack of romance and seduction, which would only put her on the defensive. What he had in mind tonight was a seduction of an entirely different kind. And the warm kitchen was just the spot for it.
    “I made tea,” he said.
    “Really?” He gaze flew to the counter where her teapot sat. “Herbal or black?”
    “Some herbal stuff I found. Since the objective is to pack you off to sleep, I didn’t figure you needed the caffeine. But I can make black tea if you’d like….”
    “No, that’s perfect.”
    “Why don’t you pour for both of us, then, while I get supper out of the oven.”
    While she poured the tea, he removed the bubbling macaroni from the oven and dished up two servings.
    She wasted no time tasting hers. “Oh, God, this is heavenly! I can’t remember the last time I made this from scratch. I usually resort to the boxed stuff for my fix.”
    “Me, too, but once in a while I like to make the real thing. When I left for college, I made my mother teach me how to make it so I could feel a little bit closer to home.”
    She took the bait. “College, huh? Where’d you go, and what did you study.”
    An hour later, they’d both had seconds of both macaroni and tea. And they each knew a lot more about the other than they had when they’d sat down.
    When he caught Nita yawning, he apologized. “God, look at me keeping you up. You should be in bed already. I’ll just stick these dishes in the dishwasher and take off so you can lock up after me.”
    He gathered up the dishes and turned toward the dishwasher.
    “Craig?”
    He put the dishes down and turned back, his face scrupulously blank. “Yeah?”
    “I’m sorry I made this so … weird.” She lifted a shoulder in an awkward shrug. “I called you, then I jumped on you, and we had last night, and now it’s all backwards.”
    “I’m not sorry,” he said roughly. “Because if it hadn’t happened like that, it probably wouldn’t have happened at all. The only thing that could make me sorry is if I do something now to blow it. Which is why I think I should leave.”
    She smiled. “You’re not blowing it.”
    He lifted an eyebrow. “No?”
    “No.” Her face sobered. “Did you mean it earlier? About … you know … feeling like maybe you were falling in love with me?”
    “Every word of it.”
    She frowned. “How can that be?”
    “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It just is .