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in life you used to enjoy.”

“Like women?”

“Hey. I figured you’d be pissed as hell. But I guess Phoebe figured I’d be the brother who really knew women, you know? So I’d pick someone okay. And Marjorie’s heard about you for a blue moon. Kind of had a crush on you from afar, or so they say—”

“I got it, I got it.” There was nothing more to say, and he couldn’t keep Marjorie just waiting upstairs by herself. He had to get back up there and get himself out of this. But his mind kept reeling in the information that this had been Phoebe’s idea. An idea that surfaced two mornings ago…which meant it was the morning after they’d made wild, tumultuous love on her back porch.

The only conclusion he could draw was that their making love must have scared her—really scared her.

Badly scared her.

But why…? He didn’t have a clue.

Friday morning Phoebe was in the middle of her Baby Love wellness class when she heard a knock on the back door. She scooped up two of the babies and carried the thumb-suckers with her to answer it.

Fergus grinned when he saw them.

“Got your hands full, I see.” He dropped a kiss on her nose, then moved on past, carrying a toolbox—and shoes that tracked in sand, she noticed. “I just had an extra hour to spend on the waterfall, so thought I’d take advantage if you didn’t have any clients in there.”

“I don’t. I’ve got a class going in the living room, but that’s not a problem. How’re you doing?”

“Whistling good. Couldn’t be better,” he assured her.

Not that Fox had ever complained, but his perky tone was distinctly unlike him. “No aches or pains at Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

all?”

“Nothing worth mentioning. Went to the doc yesterday. He hadn’t seen me in a while, claimed I looked alive for the first time in months. Believe me, that was a mighty compliment, coming from hi—”

“So,” she said in her laziest tone, “did you have a good time with your brother the other night?”

He peeled off his jacket and started laying out gear, barely glancing up. “You mean Moose’s night-out thing? I’ll tell you the truth, red. The night did just what I think you wanted it to—jolted me good. And I can hear the babies from here—so you can go back to your class, don’t worry about me.”

He hunkered down on his knees with his back to her. Her mouth was still open to ask him another casual, lazy question, but somehow that was impossible now. Between the perkiness and the snappy kiss on the nose and the mysterious dark glint in his eyes, he was really acting…indecipherably different.

HadMoose set him up with that Marjorie? Had anything happened? Was she going to chew off any more fingernails fretting about it?

Damn it. Had he kissed TOW? That Other Woman?

“Phoebe?”

When she heard one of the moms’ voices, she quickly spun around and rejoined the circle in her living room. Her therapy room was huge, but still not big enough to accommodate six moms and their babies—at least when the group needed to be spread out all over the carpet. Everybody brought mats for the Baby Love class. The babies were all naked. None was older than four months.

The babies were all happier than clams. The moms were all exhausted and frazzled. Which was why she’d started the program.

“Okay, now. A relaxed baby makes for a relaxed mom…and I’m making you a promise. The more you touch your baby, the happier he’ll be. We’re going to do four types of massage exercises today. Playful.

Enervating. Comforting. And calming. One at a time…”

She usually went around the circle, working with each baby and mom individually. And she intended to this morning, too, but after starting the group with the technique for the second exercise, she popped to her feet and strayed down the hall.

“Hey,” she said cheerfully.

“Hey back,” Fox said, but he didn’t turn around. He’d pulled off his shirt, stripped down to old jeans and boots and gloves for the stone and mortar work. The plumbing was all done for her waterfall. So was the tile part of the pool. Really, the project was nearly done—it just happened to be at the messiest and dustiest part of the construction.

Temporarily, though, she didn’t give a rat’s tail about her waterfall. Even a few weeks ago, Fox would never have stripped off his shirt—no matter how hot it was—because he’d never have wanted anyone to see his scars.

They were riveting, she thought. Not pretty. But all the wounds were closed now, the swelling and discoloration completely gone. His natural complexion was more olive than pale, so even in early spring Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

his skin had a healthy ruddiness. The breadth of his shoulders, the ripple of muscle in his forearms, spoke of how hard he’d worked to regain strength. She noticed that he hadn’t shaved. The fuzz of whiskers on his chin seemed to be coming in blonder than his head hair. Mostly she noticed the strong profile, the good-looking nose and wickedly sexy eyes and…

“Is your class over?”

She jumped when Fox suddenly spoke. “No, no, I just wanted to see how you were doing. You’re really moving along!”

“Yeah, the worst was the plumbing. I should be able to finish up the mortar and all this messy, smelly stuff by Saturday. So that’ll also give it Sunday to dry before you’ve got people in here again. That sound okay to you?”

“Sounds good. So you had a really good time on your Moose’s night out, huh?”

“Yeah, I’ll say. Hmm. Phoebe, I think you need a different shower head than the one you picked out.

One with a softer spray.”

“Okay.”

“You want me to pick it out, get it?”

“Yeah, whatever you think is best. Just tell me and I’ll reimburse you. So…we’re on for Monday, late afternoon, right?”

“Right. In fact, there’s something I’d like to do with you on Monday, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.

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