And Babies Make Five / At Long Last, a Bride: And Babies Make Five

“Don’t you recycle?”

“I would, but I don’t do a lot of shopping. I eat most of my meals out.”

Did that translate into: I date a lot? Or did that mean he was so caught up with work at the office and meetings he had to attend that he didn’t have the time or the inclination to prepare meals at home?

Either way, she supposed it wasn’t any of her business.

As she reached into one of the two bags that contained her frozen food, Hector did, too, and their hands grazed each other. She jerked back, more from the sizzle of his touch than the surprise of it.

“Whoops,” he said, tossing her a smile. “It looks like we were both thinking the same thing.”

That the frozen food needed to be put away before it thawed?

Or that that they were fated to catch each other’s eye repeatedly, and drawn to touch?

Hector took several packages of vegetables to the freezer and put them away.

Samantha peeked into yet another tote bag, pulled out a loaf of wheat bread and placed it in the pantry.

After Peter died and she’d gone to stay with her mom, she’d paid someone to go into the kitchen, to empty the cupboards and donate the canned food and the dry goods to a local soup kitchen. So the shelves had been bare for years. But just last week, when the cleaning crew had been here, she’d asked them to wash all the dishes and wipe down the entire kitchen prior to her arrival.

She found herself actually looking forward to filling the shelves. Maybe a growing urge to nest was a side effect of her pregnancy. It made sense.

While closing the pantry door, she stopped to rub the small of her back, which was still a little tender. She suspected her pregnancy and her growing girth made her think about every little ache or pain more than she otherwise might.

Still, in hindsight, she probably should have asked the cleaning crew to pack up Peter’s belongings and haul them all out to the garage, too. But she hadn’t liked the idea of a stranger digging in her closets and drawers and sorting through all of the personal items.

Yet even though the house and furniture were familiar, she felt a little … uneasy about being back on Primrose Lane. So much had changed.

“What’s the matter?” Hector asked.

She offered him an unaffected smile as she removed her hand from her back. “Nothing.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked.

“Not really. I was just shuffling a few boxes earlier and might have strained a muscle. It’s actually feeling better now.”

His expression grew concerned. “You shouldn’t have moved things around in your condition.”

No, she probably shouldn’t have. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Sit down,” he told her. “I’ll put away the rest of this stuff.”

For some reason, she didn’t object. Instead, she took a seat at the table and watched him put the groceries and cleaning supplies where they belonged, instructing him whenever he asked—and sometimes even when he didn’t. She hated to admit it, but she’d always been a little fussy about her kitchen.

He pulled out a small container of cinnamon, as well as the nutmeg and sea salt, and headed for the pantry.

“No, not in there,” she said. “I put the herbs and spices in the cupboard to the right of the stove. I like having them handy when I cook.”

His movements slowed as he turned to face her, and his head tilted to the side. “You’re not planning to cook tonight, are you?”

“I was. But I’ll probably just fix a bowl of cereal—something light and easy.” She really didn’t need anyone to tell her she might have overdone things earlier today.

“I’ve got an idea.” His eyes, a pretty golden brown shade, brightened, and he tossed her a crooked smile. “I’ll take you out tonight. There’s a new bistro down on the corner of Fourth and Highland that I’ve been meaning to try. And I hate eating alone.”

So he did have a lot of dates. She meant to tell him no thanks, which was the wisest thing to do. Yet she was giving his invitation a lot more thought than she should have. Although that was probably because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually gone out, been waited on and pampered since her return from Europe.

“Come on,” he said. “You’d like something tastier than cereal tonight, wouldn’t you?”

Actually, she would. But did she really want to have dinner with him again? At a restaurant?

She should have made an excuse, told him that she preferred having a bowl of the Raisin Bran she’d just bought, but for some strange reason—loneliness, boredom or something else altogether?—she agreed. “When do you want to go?”

“I just got back from the gym, so I’ll need a shower. But it won’t take me long. Fifteen minutes, maybe. Unless you need longer than that.”

“Give me twenty, okay?”

“You’ve got it.” He tossed her a boyish grin, and her heart tumbled in her chest.

Uh-oh. She needed to get a grip. He was just being friendly and extending a neighborly gesture.

Or was he?

The next thing she knew, she was heading for the closet to find an outfit to wear. Then she would jump in the shower and put on fresh makeup. She probably ought to shampoo her hair, but she’d said twenty minutes, and she hated to make him wait on her.

Besides, going out with Hector was no big deal, she told herself on the way upstairs. It was just two neighbors trying a new restaurant in town.

Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that this seemed to be a whole lot more than that.

For some crazy reason, it felt way too much like a date.

Chapter Three

Hector couldn’t believe he’d asked his pregnant neighbor out to dinner, but at the time he’d made the offer, it had seemed like a natural thing to do.

His sister, Yolanda, had told him about The Old World Bistro, saying that she and her husband had really enjoyed it and recommending it highly. So he’d planned to check it out, anyway. It didn’t seem to be the kind of place he’d want to dine alone, so he’d asked Samantha to come along.

Now, after showering, splashing on a dab of aftershave and slipping on a pair of black slacks, a white button-down shirt and a sports jacket, he was heading over to Samantha’s house to pick her up.

The storm had finally passed by, leaving the lawns and grounds wet, but as he walked next door, he savored the earthy, after-the-rain scent that clung to the plants and shrubs.

When he reached her stoop, he rang the bell and waited for her to answer. She was an attractive woman, so he’d expected that she would look nice when she swung open the door. But he hadn’t been prepared to come face-to-face with a beautiful, statuesque blonde who could put Katherine Heigl, his favorite Grey’s Anatomy actress, to shame.

She’d pulled her hair up into a twist, revealing pearl studs in her ears. And she’d applied a light coat of mascara that emphasized the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Expressive eyes that boasted a warmth he rarely saw in people these days.

The adolescent in him wanted to utter “Wow …” but the man in him bit his tongue.

Had a woman ever appealed to him more?