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said.
    “ Brett's seriously into baseball," Stephanie vol unteered as she carried a plate to the table, then re turned to collect the coffee. "His team made the city finals.”
    “ What position do you play?" Nash asked. "First base." She could see he was itching to say more, but for some reason didn't want to. As if wanting to talk to Nash was a bad thing.
    Stephanie sighed. Brett considered himself the "man of the family." He took his responsibilities seriously. While she appreciated the effort, some times she wished she could convince him that it was far more important to her for him just to be a kid.
    Conversation flowed for about twenty minutes un til she glanced at the empty plates in front of her three. "Looks like you're done eating to me. Guess what comes next?" Adam smiled shyly at Nash. "We do our home work now."
    “ It's when I used to do it, too," he admitted. "I liked every subject but English. What about you?”
    “ I like 'em all," Jason announced and pushed back his chair.
    He carried his plate to the counter by the sink, then gave Stephanie a hug. She hugged him back. As she felt his small back and warm, tugging hands, she reminded herself that jerk or not, Marty had done one thing right. He'd given her these boys. They were worth all the heartache and suffering she'd endured along the way.
    When all three of them had trooped out of the kitchen, she turned to the table. Nash would go now, she thought. Which was fine. She'd tortured him with her family long enough. Whatever feelings of loneliness he might have had would have been erased. No doubt he would be grateful for some sol itude.
    “Good cookies," he said as he rose.
    “ Thanks. I won't tell you how much butter is in each batch."
    “ I appreciate that." He carried his plate and mug over to the sink, which was a bit of a surprise. Then, before she could say anything, he turned on the water and began to rinse them off.
    Stephanie thought about rubbing her eyes. She had to be having some kind of hallucination. A man? Doing work? Not in her world.
    “ You don't have to do that," she said, trying not to sound stunned.
    I don't mind helping." As he spoke, he collected the boys' plates and rinsed those off, too. Then he opened the dishwasher and actually put the plates inside. She couldn't be lieve it. She didn't think Marty had ever known where the dishwasher was, let alone what it was for.
    When Nash reached for the glasses, she came to her senses. ,
    “ Hey, I'm the hired help around here, not you," she said as she stepped in close and took the glass from him.
    Their fingers touched. Just for a second, but it was enough. Not only did she hear the faint ringing of bells, she would swear that she saw actual sparks arc between them. Holy wow. Sparks. She didn't think that kind of stuff was possible after age thirty.
    Nash looked at her. His dark eyes seemed bright with what she wanted to say was passionate fire, but was probably the light from the overhead fixtures. Awareness rippled through her, sensitizing her skin and making her want to fling herself into his arms for a kiss that went on for at least six hours, follow ing by mindless, intense sex. Right there, in front of the appliances.
    She swallowed and took a step back. Something was really wrong with her. Seasonal allergies? Too much television? Not enough? She felt soft and wet and achy inside. She felt unsettled. All of this was so out of the ordinary, so unexpected and so extreme that it would be really hilarious...if it weren't so darned terrifying.
    Nash wondered if Stephanie really was issuing an invitation with her parted lips and wide eyes or if that was just wishful thinking on his part. No doubt the latter, he told himself as he heard footsteps on the stairs.
    The boys walked into the kitchen. Adam and Ja son each had a backpack with them while Brett car ried a math book and several sheets of paper. Nash figured it was time for him to excuse him self. Homework seemed like family