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“I think that's too much trouble for you,” he said.

“What's the trouble? Both of us will end up losing sleep if we stay in separate houses. This way we can run relay for each other. Each get a solid stretch of sleep.”

She sounded totally reasonable, but Mike wanted time with her.
Real
time. Not time like this. He couldn't guess what she was thinking or feeling—about him. About them.

But he caved about the sleepover, and when he settled Teddy in the upstairs room around eight o'clock that evening, Teddy begged him to sack out next to him. He did, for just a few minutes.

The next time he surfaced, Teddy was still sleeping soundly, and the wall clock claimed it was 6:00 a.m.

He'd slept ten solid hours.

And there was only one thing he wanted or needed—and that was to find Amanda.

Chapter Thirteen

M
ike was quiet, descending the stairs, unsure if Amanda or Molly were sleeping—not wanting to wake either of them if they were still asleep. But when he glanced outside…there was a slim, white, unforgettable leg stretched out on a lawn chair.

The morning was cool, with a wispy mist dancing over the grass, hiding in and out of bushes. The sun had a beat of warmth, more promise than reality this early. She'd put a bowl of strawberries on the glass table, a carafe of coffee with a spare mug that he strongly suspected was for him. Both his dog and hers were snoozing at her feet.

She was wearing easy clothes, that kind of green
she liked, in a loose, soft top paired with jeans. Her feet were bare. So was her face.

When he opened the door, she immediately looked up and smiled. Then motioned to the mug.

“I figured coffee might be the first thing you wanted.”

“That's it,” he said firmly. “I love you forever. Don't fight it. You're going to have to marry me.”

“You know what? I was thinking the same thing.”

He almost sputtered on the first sip—when he was downright desperate for that caffeine. She clearly liked it that she so easily rattled him. She watched him sit in the chair next to hers, put a foot up before speaking.

“When I woke up three mornings ago,” she said quietly, “I thought…maybe you were into payback. That you were doing the same thing to me…that you believed I'd done to you.”

“Run that by me again. A little slower. A
lot
slower, Amanda.”

So she went slower. “The first time we made love…you thought I was doing a hit-and-run. That I was willing to sleep with you. But still keep a distance.”

He wasn't sure what the balance was between quicksand versus honesty. So he just motioned her to go on.

“So when I woke up three mornings ago…I started worrying…at first…that you were doing just that.

Startling me with a seduction. You didn't ask first. You just took charge.”

“Amanda—” He got it. Quicksand or not, he had to get the whole truth out there, no matter what it cost him. Too much was at stake to risk less.

“Hear me out. I figured it out, Mike. Your coming on to me took a ton of courage…just like the night I came on to you was the biggest risk I'd ever taken. I've been trying to be a different woman than I was before. So that first night, it wasn't about sex. Or just about sex. It was about my being strong enough and honest enough to admit I wanted you. And to ask for what I wanted and needed, loud and strong.”

His turn then. “Three nights ago, I knew something bad had happened at the hearing. I could see it in your face, your eyes. I didn't how to help. I just knew…I wanted you to turn to me when something bad or sad happened. No matter when or how or what it was. I
hated
it. That you felt so bad.”

She put down her coffee, leaned forward. She lifted her hands toward him and he took them. Their knees touched. Their palms nested together. She said carefully, “Mike. I don't want to be a leaner. Or a needer.”

“I know that bugs you. But I don't see it. I never saw it. You're smart. You're a general and a diplomat in a crisis. You're the best mom on the planet. When a situation's tough, you don't run, you dive in—wherever, whenever. Do whatever it takes.”

She frowned, as if it never occurred to her that someone would see her that way. “I was just raised…so helpless.”

“That may be true, Red. But that's not character. It's just circumstance. A person doesn't start out the first day of medical school doing brain surgery. It takes some time and practice.”

“You respected that before I did.”

He hesitated, long and hard. Reached for more coffee. Still hesitated. Her eyes were on his face, her expression patient, waiting. Apparently she wanted him to lay out something tough. Offhand, he couldn't think of any way to avoid it—particularly if he wanted to win her. And he wanted that more than life.

“Okay…from my side of the fence now…I let something loose the other night.”

“I know. You shared some of your precious Talisker.”

“That's true. But not that. I was worried about… Well, I don't know how to say this. I just don't seem to do certain things…in a fastidious way.”

“Fastidious?”

Okay. So he didn't know the right word. The delicate, ladylike word. “You know,” he said edgily.

“There's a place for
please
and
thank you.
Maybe even a place for that language in bed. But I can't promise any aptitude for…finesse.”

“This is about your ex, isn't it.” She didn't frame a
question, because there wasn't one. She already knew that answer.

“Yeah. When she picked up with George… I don't know how to say it. But she made me feel like I was a bull. Insensitive. Not the tidy kind under the covers. It's my reality. I like the smells, the sweat, the sounds.”

“Mike?”

“What?”

“I'm sorry your ex is such a prissy woman, handsome. But personally, I think it's obvious that you're always going to be dark French roast, not decaf.”

“Well…maybe I need to know if you're into that dark French roast thing.”

“Hmm.” She appeared to consider. “After the two intensive samples I've had…I have to say I can't ever imagine wanting decaf, ever. Why settle for bland when you can have it all?”

“That's it,” he said, and pulled her from her chair onto his lap. He couldn't wait any longer to touch her. Hold her. “I told you I loved you, Amanda. And I meant it from the heart and soul both.”

She lifted her face, anticipating his kiss. That first connection was so sweet, so needed, so cherished that he felt his heart opening, wide enough to let the sun in.

His sun was her.

Naturally, seconds later, the dogs got up and barked. Then Molly stormed outside, followed by
Teddy. Both their kids were still polka-dotted. Neither seemed to find it strange that their parents were snuggled together. They just both climbed on. Then came the dogs. Darling fit on top, but Slugger couldn't jump that high, and started baying his unhappiness.

Amanda started laughing…then so did he.

“How on earth are we going to keep all this straight?” he demanded.

“That's easy,” she murmured. “Everything is yours, mine and ours.”

And kissed him again.

 

The August afternoon was crazy-hot…hot enough that Mike felt justified hiding in the basement. That was, until Amanda found him.

“Out,” she said simply.

“I don't think I can do it.”

“Out,” she repeated. He gave in—Amanda knew he would eventually. “I can't believe a big strong guy like you would be afraid of a few kids.”

“I never heard of a meet-and-greet for four-year-olds. And as far as I can tell, the whole thing's terrifying.”

It wasn't. It was a super way for the kids to meet some other children their age before preschool actually started. Both yards were decorated with balloons and tables, both places had snacks and drinks. Precisely between the houses, there was a hired balloon maker…making animal balloons for each child. In
Mike's yard, groups congregated who wanted to do the worm-and-frog thing. In Amanda's, there was a twirling contest, requiring a lot of girls wearing tutus and crowns.

Amanda had hoped a good handful would come to the impromptu gig. Instead…she counted over thirty kids, not counting moms and neighbors. “Talk about a success,” she murmured.

“All your doing. I still can't believe we're both surviving suburbia.”

She lifted her head, saw his expression. “You've come to love it, haven't you?”

“Love it—yeah. In spite of myself. But we have an awful lot to sort out, Amanda. Which house do you want to live in? Are both of us going to work? How are we going to manage all the grandparents? The ex's?”

“Yes,” she said, as if that were an answer.

“Yes?”

“Uh-huh. There was a time I wanted perfect, Mike. Now I realize what I was looking for back then was shallow and boring. Never again. I want complications. I want messes. I want challenges. Are we going to have fun creating our lives together, or what?”

“You said it. Bring it on, Red.” He grinned, bent down to kiss her nose…and naturally, was interrupted by the sound of a scream. Molly's.

In her most dramatic voice, Molly announced to
the world in general, “Guess
what!
Princess just had a kitten. On my bed!”

“Uh-oh,” Mike murmured.

Amanda laughed again. “Just one more thing that's going to be yours, mine and ours. What could possibly be better than that?”

“Nothing in this world,” he agreed, and swung his arm around her shoulder.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-8926-4

YOURS, MINE & OURS

Copyright © 2011 by Alison Hart

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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**
Happily Ever After

†
Body & Soul

††
The Scent of Lavender

§
New Man in Town

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