“What?” she asked. “Did you have something you wanted to say to me?”

He held out the grocery bag. She took it and looked inside. Instantly her stomach growled.

“You brought me cilantro.”

He shrugged. “You said you needed it.” He set down the pet carrier and opened it. “This is for the other problem,” he said as a massive black-and-white cat jumped gracefully out.

“A cat!” Edouard sounded so horrified, Penny half expected him to jump on the counter. “No. No! They shed. The hair would be everywhere.”

“I agree,” Penny said. “No cats in my kitchen. It’s not sanitary. We won’t even discuss the health code violations.”

“Better a cat than rats,” Cal said. “He’s not an indoor cat. He’s a hunter. Guess what he likes to eat?”

That was something. She eyed the creature. “How much does he weigh?”

“Twenty-eight pounds. The lady at the shelter said he was clean, friendly and always on the prowl. He’s big enough that rats shouldn’t be a problem.”

The cat looked around, then strolled over to Penny. He rubbed against her leg and started to purr. She bent down and petted it. “Nice kitty.” She looked at Cal. “Does he have a name?”

“No idea.”

She felt the muscles in his back. “I hope he really does eat what he catches, otherwise he’s going to be damned expensive to feed.”

Edouard continued to eye the cat as if it would attack him. Suddenly the cat’s ears perked up and it took off toward the open wall. It slipped inside and there was silence.

“Seal up the wall quickly,” Edouard said. “While we still can.”

Penny shook her head. “The cat stays. The building is old. There have been so many remodels, I’m sure there are dozens of places the exterminator can’t get to. A cat is a good idea.”

At least she hoped it was.

A low rumble told her the second produce truck had arrived.

“It’s all going to be crap,” she muttered as she made her way outside. “The good stuff was in the crash.”

“Can’t you sort through it?” Cal asked, falling into step beside her.

“I’ll have to.”

“I’ll help.” When she looked at him, he added, “I know what decent lettuce looks like. I might not be a trained chef, but I’m not an idiot.”

“I’ll accept that.” She was grateful he was going to ignore what he’d heard earlier. Maybe he would even—

“Not getting any, huh?” he asked with a grin. “Bummer.”

PENNY STOOD and chopped cilantro. Her back ached, a fairly new event in her pregnancy, but one she was willing to live with. In an effort to ease the pressure, she scrounged a footstool and rested her left foot on it. The new position helped and she resumed her chopping and imagined forty-seven ways she could use cilantro in various dishes.

If she—

“Penny!”

She winced when she heard Cal call her name. It had been nearly a week since Edouard had announced she wasn’t “getting any” and she was still feeling a little self-conscious. Not that Cal had been anything but the perfect gentleman. She couldn’t complain about that. But still, it was embarrassing.

She looked up. “We’re fine in here. All the orders are out. Do not tell me we have an unexpected party of twelve showing up.”

“No. We’ve cleared the reservations. We’re done for the night.”

“Good.”

He walked toward her, all tall and good-looking in slacks and a sweater. Gloria might be a bitch on wheels, but her grandsons came from a mighty fine gene pool. Just looking at Cal, at the way his body moved and the slight smile on his lips, made her knees wobble. Not a good thing when she was holding such a sharp knife.

“You’re off tomorrow,” he said into her ear.

His warm breath tickled and aroused in equal measures. There hadn’t been any repeats of their hot kisses. She’d told herself she didn’t care. She’d told herself it was better this way. She’d been lying both times.

“Is that a question or a statement?” she asked.

“A question.”

She kept her gaze on her cilantro. It had been delivered fresh and smelled heavenly. “Yes.”

“Good.” He tucked a piece of paper into her jacket pocket. “My place. Tomorrow. Sixty-thirty. I’m cooking. Here are directions.”

“What if I have plans?” she asked, turning her head so she could meet his gaze. His dark eyes made her want to jump without looking. A divorce and being many years wiser than the last time she’d jumped made her less sure.

“Do you?”

She was tempted to say she did. Except she was curious about why Cal was inviting her over. Plus the man was offering to cook. Most people assumed chefs hated to eat anyone else’s food or that they were critical. Maybe others were, but Penny loved having someone else take responsibility for the food.

“No.”

“Then I’ll see you there.”

HOW HARD COULD fajitas be? Cal had picked the dish deliberately. He’d bought beans, rice, salsa and guacamole from his favorite Mexican restaurant. All he had to do was chop up a few onions, peppers and cilantro, along with the steak and chicken and throw on the spices.

He’d already set the table and he had a blender of virgin margaritas in the freezer, so why wasn’t the meal coming together? Here it was, less than fifteen minutes before Penny was due to arrive and he’d suddenly realized he had no way to heat the beans.

“I need more pots, dammit,” he yelled as he flung open cupboards. Except he never cooked and he wouldn’t know a good pot from a bad one.

He finally found a casserole dish and dumped the beans into that. He would use the microwave and be done with it.

Just then the doorbell rang. He walked to open it.

“Right on time,” he said, before he got a look at Penny. Then he stepped back and jammed his mouth shut before his jaw dropped and he just stared like an idiot.

Penny looked great. A black-and-purple sweater clung to her newly impressive br**sts and her round tummy. Black jeans made already long legs seem to go on forever. Her hair was loose and hung nearly halfway down her back. The soft waves made him remember other times when her hair had been falling over his belly and thighs as she—

He slammed the door on that train of thought and invited her inside.

“You look great,” he said.

“Thanks. I’m really starting to show, but I’m still too small for maternity clothes. It’s hard finding things to wear. Love the house. Queen Anne is such a cool neighborhood. I saw you have a view. I’m jealous.” She shrugged out of her coat and handed it to him. “I stopped by the restaurant on my way over. Everything is fine. The cat is really settling in. We have to name it. Maybe we can hold a contest. With staff, I mean. Not customers. They don’t need to know about the cat or the rats.”

He closed the door and waited for her to talk herself out. The babbling meant she was nervous. Knowing he wasn’t the only one made things a little easier.

“So, ah, why am I here?” she asked as he hung up her coat.

“Because I asked you and you said yes.”

“I know that. Why did you ask me?”

“You passed the date.”

Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away. “Hormones,” she said thickly. “I didn’t know you were keeping track.”

“It wasn’t hard. You only told me about the baby a couple of weeks ago. So when Naomi said you got the all clear from your doctor,” he said, “I wanted to celebrate.”

The idea had popped into his brain and he hadn’t been able to shake it loose. He’d decided to give in to the impulse and see what happened.

“You didn’t have to do this, but I’m glad you did,” she said, heading down the hall. “Is the kitchen this way?”

“Yeah. Turn right.”

He rounded the corner and plowed into her. She’d stopped just inside the room.

“What?” he asked, feeling the criticism rolling off her. “It’s big. There’s plenty of light. It’s a good stove.”

She eyed the six-burner stainless steel appliance that had come with the house. “Better than good, but jeez, Cal. It’s red.”

He nodded. “They’d just painted before they put the house on the market. I’ll change it.”

She winced. “You should do it soon. A red kitchen isn’t a good idea. You’ll never get the color right on your vegetables and it’s not appetizing. But I can live with it.”

“I’m glad, because I’m not painting today.”

She walked over to the stools at the island and plopped down. “So what are we having?”

“Fajitas. Steak and chicken.”

“Cool.”

As she seemed to have settled in for the evening, he knew he wasn’t going to get out of cooking in front of her. “Want something to drink?” he asked, when he really wanted to offer her something to read, or a movie on TV. Anything so she wouldn’t see him fumbling around in the kitchen.

“Sure. What do you have?”

“Virgin margaritas.”

“Perfect.”

He poured them both drinks, then turned on the heat under the grill pan. He could see her eyeing the flame but didn’t know if he had it too high or too low.

“You want to do this?” he asked.

“No. I do it for a living. I like having you cook for me. It will be fine.”

“Any pointers?”

She smiled. “Cal, it’s nothing more than a simple stir-fry on a grill pan. You’ll do great.”

“Yeah.” He was already sweating. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

“I didn’t see another car in the driveway,” she said. “Has Walker already moved out?”

“A couple of days ago. Reid offered him a bedroom on his houseboat, but Walker’s determined to have his own place.”

“I’m surprised he moved out of here,” she said after taking a sip of her margarita, “but who on earth would want to move in with Reid? There would be too many women coming and going. I heard he already has a new chickie. He and Naomi lasted what, two weeks? Maybe three?”

“They burn hot and bright,” he said as he dropped the meat onto the grill pan. “Then it’s over.”

“I know. Naomi’s already making moves on one of the busboys. She’s amazing.”

“I hear Edouard has a new man in his life,” Cal said, throwing on peppers and onions.

“That’s the rumor.”

He glanced at her, remembering what Edouard had said about her not getting any. Did she want to?

Her eyes narrowed. “I know what you’re thinking. Stop it.”

“What am I thinking?”

She sniffed. “I’m gestating right now. Sex isn’t important to me.”

“Good to know.” He thought about how she’d responded to his kisses. She might be pregnant, but it wasn’t keeping her completely occupied. If he asked, would she say yes? Did he want her to?

Penny sniffed again. “Ah, is that burning?”

“I’M IMPRESSED,” Penny said as she made another fajita. “This is great.”

“Thanks.” Cal accepted the compliment, although he looked a little suspicious.

“I mean it. I love when someone cooks for me and this is really delicious. You used plenty of cilantro.”

“I knew you were having a craving.”

“That seems to come with the territory. At least I haven’t run into a food I can’t either buy or fix.”

They were eating in Cal’s dining room. He’d put her with her back to the kitchen, so she wouldn’t have to look at the red walls. A sweet gesture, she thought. Any more like that and in her present hormonal state she would start sobbing.

There was also something familiar about their dinner. Just the two of them at a table, talking about restaurants, food, life. How many evenings had they spent together around a table? Their world had been food, work and each other.

Where had their relationship gone wrong? She knew Cal changing his mind about wanting a baby was a big part of it, but there had been plenty of cracks before the crumble.

“Why did you start The Daily Grind?” she asked. “How much of it was wanting something of your own and how much of it was getting away from Gloria?”

He shrugged. “It was about equal.” He leaned toward her. “Oh, I see. Now you believe me about Gloria.”

She smiled. “I never had to work with her before. I’ll admit that when we were first married I thought you exaggerated her personality. I’ve had a few recent encounters with her that have changed my mind. She’s the most controlling person I’ve ever met.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Speaking of telling, have you thought any more about telling Dani the truth about her father? I know it would hurt her initially, but I suspect that after a while she’d find the information very freeing.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “I’ve always looked out for Dani. I always wanted to protect her from the world. Now she’s all grown up and I still find myself wanting to shield her from things.”

He kept talking, but suddenly Penny couldn’t hear him. There was an ache deep inside that told her his words confirmed what she’d always believed: Cal would have been a terrific father.

He instinctively took care of those who weren’t as strong. Those in need. She could imagine him adoring a toddler while teaching him or her how to go forward in the world.