One in a Million by Susan Mallery Read Free Book Online Page B

upstairs."
    “ Why?" Nash asked from where he leaned against the counter.
    She turned toward him, ignoring the continual sexual impact of his presence. Not only did she not want to make a fool of herself, but there was still a minor in the room. "The downstairs TV is for our guests." He gave her a slow, sexy smile that could have melted the polar ice cap. "I'm not much of a TV watcher. It won't bother me if it won't bother you." Stephanie figured she wasn't going to fight the point. If the man wanted to be generous, her kids would be thrilled. She smiled at Brett. "Looks like this is your lucky day. Go tell your brothers, and keep the volume down." Brett grinned and raced down the hall. "We can stay down here," he yelled.
    “ Simple pleasures," she said as she turned to ward the sink. "If only life stayed that easy."
    “ Complicated comes with growing up," Nash said as he also approached the sink. He was closer so he got there first.
    As she watched, he turned on the water and began rinsing dishes. Just like that. He even used the sponge to clean off the worst bits.
    Stephanie wanted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming. He was helping again. Helping. Without being asked, without complaining. Just doing it. - Some of her confusion must have shown on his face because he looked at her and asked, "What's wrong?" She wiggled her fingers toward the dishes. "You don't have to do that."
    “ I don't mind." He didn't mind. Wow. Every time she had asked Marty to help, he'd howled like a wet cat, then had a list of fifty reasons why he couldn't. However hard she pushed, he pushed back harder. He threatened, cajoled, or had a temper tantrum to rival a three year-old's. His goal had been to make the experience so miserable that she would stop asking. Eventually it had worked.
    “ So who trained you?" she asked. "I happen to know that most men aren't born being so handy around the kitchen." He finished rinsing the dishes, then opened the dishwasher and began placing them inside. "I was married for a while, but most of my 'training' as you call it, came from being raised by a single mom. She worked a lot of hours and came home beat. I pitched in to help." Wow times two. "You give me hope," she said. He straightened. "In what way?" For once her reaction wasn't about sex. "You seem like a great guy. Successful, articulate, not a serial killer—at least not as far as I can tell. You didn't have a father around, either. So maybe my boys will turn out okay, too." He gave her another slow smile. "They're going to be great. You're doing a terrific job with them.”
    “ I try."
    “ It shows." The compliment left her feeling flustered and flut tery. She had to clear her throat before she could speak again. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened in your marriage?" He put the last three glasses into the dishwasher. "Tina passed away a couple of years ago.”
    “ I'm sorry." The words were automatic. She figured Nash was in his early thirties, which meant his wife would have been around the same age. What would have taken such a young woman? Cancer? A drunk driver?
    “ What brought you to Glenwood?" he asked. "Or are you a native?" The not-so-subtle change in subject ended any thought she had of actually asking her questions. "Dumb luck," she said.
    Nash picked up the dishcloth and rinsed it, then started to wipe off the counters. She was nearly dumbstruck. Rather than stand around with her mouth open, she forced herself to get the detergent out from under the sink and pour some into the dishwasher.
    “ We always moved around a lot," she said, try ing not to stare as he finished up with the counters. "Marty had wonderful ideas of fun places to live and we wanted to experience them all." Not exactly the whole truth, she thought sadly. This was the made-for-TV version of her marriage. The one she told mostly everyone. Especially her children.
    “ We spent eight months living in a forest and nearly a year working on a ranch. There