“Never mind,” Heather said hastily.
Abby immediately stood up and held out her hand to Bree. “We’re needed in the kitchen,” she said, despite having told Heather only moments ago that she’d been kicked out.
Connor stared after his sisters in bemusement. “What’s up with them? Were they bugging you?”
“Of course not. I like your sisters.”
“So do I,” he said. “That doesn’t mean they can’t be exasperating. If they’re on your case or making you uncomfortable, I’ll put a stop to it.”
“Leave it alone,” she said tersely.
“But—”
Determined not to go down that road, she glanced pointedly at little Mick who looked to be just seconds from nodding off. “So, how many eggs did you and Daddy find?” she asked.
He grabbed a bright green one and held it up. “Egg,” he pronounced happily.
“Does he know there might be candy inside?” she asked Connor.
“No, thank goodness, and the others have been forbidden to eat any now. If these kids get any more wired, we’ll never get them settled down for dinner.”
“How’s the hunt for those big-ticket eggs gone? Are all the dollar and five-dollar bills accounted for?”
Connor grinned mischievously. “Of course.”
“What do you mean, ‘of course’? Kevin was about to have a fit not a half hour ago.” Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. “You said you didn’t know where all the eggs were hidden just to tick him off, didn’t you? Did you make a map?”
He pulled a detailed sketch from his back pocket. At her shake of her head, he said, “Hey, I had to have some fun, didn’t I? They wouldn’t let me hunt for eggs this year.”
Heather laughed. “You’re terrible.”
“That seems to be the consensus,” he agreed, then held her gaze. “You used to like the bad-boy side of me.”
She still did, but she knew that admitting it would be a huge mistake. “No comment,” she said, instead.
He grinned. “Sweet pea, don’t you know that an evasion is as good as an admission?”
“Don’t apply your courtroom logic to me,” she retorted.
“That’s not courtroom logic,” he scoffed. “That’s human nature. People who can’t bring themselves to utter a real lie, evade.” He gave her a thoughtful look. “I could prove it, you know.”
“Prove what?”
“That you still like the impetuous bad boy in me.”
She frowned at the taunt. “I don’t think so,” she said, not about to get drawn into whatever scheme he had in mind.
But before she knew what he intended, he was out of his chair and leaning over her. One arm cradled their son, but the other was braced on the arm of her chair. He hesitated just long enough for her pulse to scramble, then sealed his mouth over hers.
Heather willed herself to sit perfectly still, to not respond in any way to the kiss. Connor, though, was cleverly patient. He lingered. He coaxed. Eventually her willpower was no match for his ingenuity or the power his lips had over her. She felt herself responding.
The kiss seemed to go on for an eternity…and not nearly long enough. It reminded her of all there was between them, and all there wasn’t.
Eventually, he backed away, his eyes twinkling wickedly. “I rest my case.”
When she could catch her breath and keep her voice steady, she said, “You do realize you’ve just stirred up a hornet’s nest, right?”
He regarded her blankly.
She nodded toward their suddenly silent audience—Mick, who’d just stepped outside to call everyone to dinner, Kevin, Trace, Jake and all the kids returning to the porch to count their eggs in hopes of winning the big prize of the day, a gift card for the toy store. They were all standing there staring in openmouthed astonishment.
“Well now,” Mick said, beaming. “Nice to see you’ve come to your senses, son.”
Connor frowned at his father. “It was a kiss, Dad. Don’t make too much out of it.”
“Doesn’t matter what I make out of it,” Mick said. “It’s what Heather believes. What’s she to think about a man who makes his intentions quite clear on the one hand, then goes around stealing kisses on the other?”
“Heather knows exactly what’s going on,” Connor said, though he regarded her uncertainly. “Right?”
Though a part of her ached to believe something had changed, she knew better. “Everything is crystal clear,” she said tightly.
Mick regarded her with a look that was entirely too sympathetic. It made her want to cry. To avoid making an idiot of herself, she stood, took her son from Connor and headed inside.
“I need to put him down for his nap,” she said, though she doubted anyone entirely bought the excuse, no matter how true it might be. Everyone there knew she was running away from Connor and the feelings that simply wouldn’t go away.
CHAPTER 8
Megan regarded Nell with concern. Her mother-in-law had been on her feet in the kitchen for hours following the Easter Mass and, though she showed no signs of slowing down, there was an unmistakable hint of exhaustion in her eyes, and her skin was paler than usual. It struck Megan that they all needed to be more considerate of Nell’s age, though Nell herself would be appalled by the idea.
“Nell, sit down with me and have a cup of tea,” Megan insisted, already heating the water. “I’ve been on my feet too long, and so have you. We deserve a break before the real madhouse begins. If this family gets much bigger, we’ll need to hire a caterer and rent a hall to handle these holiday events.”
“Come now. You know I wouldn’t have this any other way,” Nell said. “And this is no time for a break. We need to get this meal on the table.” Despite the protest, she did sink down gratefully onto a chair at the kitchen table. She closed her eyes for a moment, then conceded, “This does feel good.”
“And we’re not going to feel guilty about this for a single second,” Megan told her. “The kids are perfectly
