“Didn't we already have this conversation?" she asked.

“Yes and you didn't answer the question."

“Let me guess. You're not going to let it go until I do, right?" He nodded.

She knew she could shut him down by pointing out that none of this was his business. But Nash wasn't asking out of anything but concern. Although she had no clue what he would do if he thought she was in need. Offer her a low-interest loan? The thought was mildly amusing, but not much of a distraction. Was she going to tell him the truth or not? She settled on the truth because she'd never been a very good liar.

“We're doing okay," she said slowly. "I've told you what life was like with Marty so you know that there wasn't a lot of extra cash each month. I held down the only steady job in the family, so that made things tight. When Marty got the inheritance, it seemed like a miracle."

“I was surprised when you told me he'd agreed to buy a house. It doesn't sound like his style."

“Oh, it wasn't. We had huge fights. In the end, he gave in, but with a twist. We bought this place instead of a regular single-family home." She glanced around at the high ceilings of her third-floor living area. "At first I hated it. The last thing I wanted was a big mortgage and a lot of re- modeling. When Marty died, I was furious. I'd been left with this disaster. But over time, I realized it was the best thing that could have happened. We get a lot of tourists up here, and many of them love the idea of staying at a bed and breakfast. I've been able to do most of the remodeling myself, which has saved a lot of money. I make my own schedule, and I'm here when the boys get home from school. A regular job would mean day care and that would be financially impossible."

“Interesting information," he said, "but you haven't answered the question."

“We do okay," she told him. "Some months are tight, some aren't. I did manage to keep a small life insurance policy up on Marty so when he died there was some money from that. I put it away. If push comes to shove, it's my emergency fund. Fingers crossed I never have to use it." She held up one hand.

“If all goes well," she continued, "I'll use it to pay for the boys' college. So I'm fine. Really." He smiled. "You're more than fine. You're responsible, giving and a great mom." His compliment pleased her, which she told herself was silly. Still, she sat a little straighter and fought the urge to beam.

“I try.

“You succeed." She shifted and, still facing him, leaned against the back of the sofa. "Okay, fair's fair. You got to ask me a very personal question and now I get to do the same."

“All right." She thought about all the possibilities and settled on the one that troubled her the most.

“Tell me about your wife." She watched closely, but Nash's expression didn't change. "What do you want to know?"

“Whatever you want to tell me. Whatever…" Her voice trailed off as a horrifying thought occurred to her. Did he not want to talk about the woman because she still mattered so much? He'd claimed not to be thinking about her when they made love, but what if he'd been lying? What if there were ghosts who

“That's not the reason," he said.

She blinked at him. "What are you talking about?"

“I'm hedging because I don't know what to say about her, not because I'm heartbroken."

“That's a relief." She pressed her lips together. "Wait a minute. How did you know what I was thinking?"

“It was a logical assumption."

“Uh-huh." She didn't buy that for a second. But what other explanation could there be? How strange that Nash knew her so well after just a short period of time, and despite all their years together, Marty had never known her at all. Was Marty's lack of knowledge due to some flaw within him, or had he never found her all that interesting?

“When I started working for the FBI," he said, "I quickly learned that emotional detachment was an asset. Nearly every situation is difficult on some level and leading with your heart is a good way to make the wrong decision. Staying emotionally dis- tant was something I'd learned while I was growing up and it served me well at the bureau." Having heard about his close family, Stephanie couldn't imagine how or why Nash would detach. Sometimes he seemed a little distant with his family, but that could have been shyness or emotional reserve. Nothing about his relationship with her and her kids indicated he was anything but emotionally available, but this wasn't the time to go into that particular subject. She filed the question away to spring on him later.

“I've told you a bit about Tina. She was my opposite. Emotional, disorganized, leading with her heart instead of her head. I wasn't even sure I liked her at first." His gaze narrowed slightly. "I'm talking about after she was an agent. I never considered her as anything but a co-worker during training."

“Of course not," she murmured, believing him. Nash would never break that kind of rule.

“Dating led to more dating. After a while Tina suggested we live together. Marriage seemed like the next logical step." How interesting, she thought. Had Tina been the one guiding the relationship? Nash almost made it sound like he was only along for the ride.

“How old were you when you got married?" she asked.

“Twenty-seven." Okay-the right age for most guys to think about settling down. So had Tina been in the right place at the right time? Not a question she would be asking.

Stephanie resisted the urge to slap herself upside the head. She knew exactly what she was doing. Ifshe could convince herself to believe Nash had married Tina because it was "time" and not because he was wildly in love with her, somehow that would make Stephanie feel better about their relationship. Crazy but true. She told herself to get over it.

“You didn't have a chance to have kids," she said. "I guess she passed away before you got around to that." He shrugged. "We never talked about it. I always wanted children. I guess Tina did, too. Then she was killed."

“How?" she asked before she could stop herself.

“In the line of duty. A bomb exploded." She'd been expecting a lot of answers, just not that one. A bomb sounded so violent. Because it was violent, she thought. Violent and unexpected and shocking.

“I'm sorry," she whispered.

“Thanks." Nash's expression hadn't changed as he talked, but there was something in his eyes that tugged at her heart.

“Want to talk about this more or change the subject?" she asked.

“Let's move on."

“Okay. So how did a guy with a twin brother and close friends learn to disconnect emotionally while he was growing up?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Easier than you might think. My mom married a guy when Kevin and I were twelve. Howard and I never got along." That surprised her. "Still? But he and your mother are expected the day after tomorrow. Is that going to be a problem?" She frowned. "Why on earth did you want them staying here if you two aren't speaking?"

“We're speaking. And we get along." The words sounded right, but she wasn't sure she believed them. "You're not going to be yelling at each other in the foyer, are you?"

“No. If there's any yelling, we'll do it outside where it belongs." She smiled. "Fair enough. So is this emotional detachment you're so fond of the reason you haven't gotten involved with anyone else since your wife's death?"

“No. I've avoided relationships because I loved Tina and I can't ever love anyone else again." Stephanie stared at him for several heartbeats, then burst out. laughing. "Oh, come on. That's ridiculous. You can't love again? Did we move from real life to a TV soap? Are you saying the human heart is capable of only loving once? What about my three kids? Should I send the twins back because I already loved Brett when they arrived?" Nash looked as shocked as if she'd pulled a gun on him. The charged silence between them made her wonder if she'd gone too far. He couldn't be serious about not loving again-people didn't work like that. But did he believe it? Had she just insulted him big-time? She waited anxiously as he stared at her. She couldn't read his expression…not until one corner of his mouth twitched.

“You're not buying my best line?" he asked at last.

Relief swept through her. "Not for a second. Who has?"

“Everyone but you."

“I see. Are these `everyones' women?"

“For the most part."

“Then you need to start dating women with slightly higher IQs." He laughed and grabbed her around the waist, then hauled her onto his lap. "I prefer my women to have a little more respect than you do, Missy." She settled her hands on his shoulders and brushed his mouth with hers. "That so isn't going to happen as long as you talk like an idiot."

“Idiot, huh? I'm one idiot you can't resist." She leaned in to kiss him again. "You're right about that," she whispered and gave herself up to him.

Chapter Twelve

“Batter up," Brett called, as he tossed the baseball in the air and caught it. "Adam, it's your turn." Adam walked to the square marked on the grass in front of the house and clutched his bat. From what Nash could tell, Adam might be the quieter twin, but he was the better athlete. So far he'd been the one to hit the ball every time Brett pitched it.

Brett pitched a slow ball and Adam swung. There was a crack as the bat connected, then the ball flew directly back to Brett who had to jump to catch it.

“Good hit," he called to his brother.

Nash stood at the end of the porch, leaning against the house. The boys were playing in the side yard to, as Stephanie put it, "Avoid as many windows as possible." The late-morning was warm and clear-the perfect weather for the start of summer vacation.