From Neighbors...to Newlyweds?

Shane looked up at their neighbor, too, the plea in his gaze as earnest as his brother’s question.

“The puppies aren’t at my house today,” Matt told them.

Their hopeful smiles dimmed.

“Where are they?”

“With my brother, Luke, at his clinic.”

“He’s the doggy doctor,” Quinn reminded Shane.

“He’s a doctor for all kinds of animals,” Matt clarified.

“Maybe we could visit the puppies at the clinic,” Quinn suggested.

“Not today,” Georgia told him.

Shane pouted. “I want a puppy.”

“Well, you got a baby sister instead.”

“I’d rather have a puppy,” Quinn grumbled.

Matt turned to hide his smile as he washed his hands at the sink. “Those puppies were kind of cute,” he agreed. “But your sister is even cuter.”

“Do you think so?” Quinn’s tone was skeptical.

“Absolutely.” He smiled at the baby still securely strapped into her car seat but directed his next words to Georgia. “Can I take her out of there?”

She hesitated. “If you want, but she doesn’t have a lot of experience with strangers so she might …”

Her explanation trailed off when she saw that he already had Pippa out of her carrier.

Matt looked up. “She might what?”

“I was going to say ‘fuss,’” she admitted. “But obviously she is doing anything but.”

Instead, the little girl’s big blue eyes were intently focused on Matt’s face and her mouth was stretched into a wide, gummy grin that filled his heart so completely, his chest ached.

“She’s a charmer,” he said, tucking her carefully into the crook of his arm so that her head and neck were supported.

“She has her moments,” her mother agreed.

“Mostly she cries,” Quinn said.

“’Specially at night,” Shane added.

Georgia’s sigh confirmed it was true. “Colic.”

He’d had his own experience with a colicky baby, and he winced sympathetically. “Are you getting any sleep?” he asked.

“A lot less since my mom went away,” she admitted. “But I’m managing—if you disregard the fact that I’m falling behind on my work, housework and yard work.”

Shane tugged on the hem of her shirt. “I’m hungry.”

“I know, honey. I’ll get your lunch as soon as I get the groceries put away.”

“Gill cheez?”

She smiled. “You bet.”

“I want twisty pasta,” Quinn announced.

“You had pasta yesterday,” she reminded him. “We’re having grilled cheese today. But you can go put cartoons on TV while you’re waiting for your lunch, if you want.”

Apparently that was an acceptable compromise, as the boys both scampered off to the living room.

“But you’re not falling behind with your kids,” he said. “And that’s what really matters.”

The smile that curved her lips was both genuine and weary. “And thanks to you, I’m no longer as far behind with the yard work as I used to be.”

He shrugged. “I was cutting my grass anyway.”

She took a jug of 2% and a tub of yogurt out of the bag, found room for them in the fridge.

“You should try soy milk,” he told her.

She lifted a brow. “Because you have futures in soybeans?”

He grinned. “Because colic can be caused—or aggravated—by an intolerance to the proteins in the cows’ milk consumed by a nursing mother.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “How did you know I’m nursing?”

To his credit, he managed to keep his gaze on her face without his eyes even flickering in the direction of her very lush breasts. “No baby bottles in the drying rack or the fridge.”

“Very observant,” she noted. “And how do you know about the soy milk?”

“I read a lot.”

She’d finished putting away her groceries and reached into the drawer under the oven for a frying pan. “I used to read,” she told him. “Sometimes even for pleasure.”

He smiled. “You will again—someday.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She retrieved the butter from the fridge. “But for now, we’re getting through one day at a time.”

“I’d say you’re doing better than that. You’ve got three great kids, Georgia.”

She started buttering slices of bread. “I wish you could be here to tell me that at 3:00 a.m.” Then she realized how her words might be misconstrued, and her cheeks filled with color.