“You know why I’m telling you this?” he asks suddenly, his eyes intensely focused on me.

I shake my head, because honestly, I’m dumbfounded that he’s showing me his vulnerability. That’s not typical of a man, much less Zack Grantham.

“I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but I know this…you’d tell it to me straight. I knew you wouldn’t pull any punches, and if I was doing something wrong, you’d tell me.”

“That I would,” I say with a smile, warmed thoroughly by this, because it means he respects that about me. My candor and in-your-face honesty sometimes puts people off. I’ve found, in life, many people just don’t want to hear the truth.

“I also need your help,” he tells me. “It’s not part of your duties, so if you don’t want to, I’d understand, but with me traveling…it’s going to be hard to meet with the real estate agent and be available for showings. I’m going to need to get some stuff cleaned out of the attic, maybe paint a few rooms.”

“I can help,” I assure him. “Not a problem.”

Full solace now filters over his face, and he gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’ll try to get an agent under contract as soon as I can, but it will probably be next week. But maybe we can work Sunday on clearing some stuff out and starting to get the house in shape.”

“Sounds good,” I say as I stand from the table. “And do you want some breakfast? I made some scrambled eggs and toast for Ben this morning. I can whip some up for you too.”

“Sure,” he says, leaning back again in his chair, now seemingly completely at ease and relaxed. The decision on this house must have been weighing heavy on him.

“So where will you go? Will you buy something new or rent?” I ask as I pull the eggs out of the fridge.

Zack stands from the table and walks around the kitchen island, brushes by me, and grabs the bag of bread from the counter. “I’ll help,” he says as he pulls four pieces out and puts them in the toaster. “And I’m not sure. Farther away from town, I think. I’d like a bit more land. It’s too crowded in neighborhoods like this.”

“And Ben can get his dog he talks about almost every day,” I point out as I pull a bowl from the cupboard and start cracking eggs into it.

Zack laughs as he tries to step around me to get to the bottom cupboard that houses the frying pans. His hand comes out and brushes against my back, then presses in. His other hand comes to my waist and he physically, but gently, pushes me to the side. “Move over a bit so I can get the pan,” he says nonchalantly.

I, on the other hand, practically melt into a puddle of goo just from that innocent touch to move me out of the way. His hands fall away quickly and he bends over to pull a pan from the cupboard, then just as efficiently stands and turns toward the stove.

I stand there frozen, my hand poised to crack an egg on the edge of the bowl. How is it possible that such a brief touch from this man causes my brain to go wonky and my blood to zing through my body? I’ve never felt anything quite like that before, and now I wonder…what would it feel like if he touched me elsewhere? Like his lips to mine? Or what if he cupped my breast?

A violent shudder ripples down my spine and goose bumps break out on my arms, which are thankfully covered by my long-sleeved T-shirt.

“I’m definitely getting a dog for Ben once we move,” Zack says. “Maybe a golden retriever. That’s what I had growing up.”

Blinking my eyes, I turn to look at him. “Huh?”

“A dog…like you said,” he says with a mischievous smile. Or was that a knowing smile? Does he know how much that brief touch affected me? My cheeks turn red with embarrassment that he might.

“That would be great,” I say with a forced smile and turn around to crack a few more eggs into the bowl. Zack has a huge appetite and he also has a game tonight, so I know he’ll want to load up on as much protein as possible.

“I’m going to take Ben out to Red Robin for a burger for lunch. He’s been pestering me for weeks to go there. Want to come?” Zack asks, and my hands start shaking slightly.

Is he asking me to come as the nanny? Or just to come as a…um…a friend? A potential lover?

Stop it, Kate!

Clearing my throat, I throw the last of the eggshells into the garbage and start beating the eggs. “Actually, I think I’ll pass. I’ve got a few errands to run myself today.”

I need to maintain my distance from Zack, and so I resolve that unless it specifically revolves around caring for Ben, I’m going to step back and put some space between us.

“No prob,” Zack says, and I hear him walking back over to the kitchen table, sliding the chair out, and sitting down again. “Oh, and Ben wants to go to the game tonight, so if you’re up for it, do you mind?”

The tension in my shoulders relaxes marginally, and I actually get a gurgle of excitement in my stomach. This time I’d get to see Zack play live. “Of course I don’t mind. Anytime you want me to go to a hockey game, you just have to snap your fingers and I’ll come a-jumping.”

“Cool,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m actually going to have you two ride with me, so you’ll need to be ready to leave by about four thirty P.M. I don’t want you and Ben braving the crowds alone.”

That surprises me, so I turn my head to face him. “Why’s that?”