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laughed. “Come in, have some breakfast.   No strings. I was making it for Blair but she was afraid of being late for work. No appetite, anyway. Poor thing.”
    “She’s got a job?”
    “Temping. This is her first day of a two-week assignment. I’m signed up with them too, but they don’t have anything for me yet.”
    Curiosity piqued, he followed her into the kitchen and accepted the plate she pushed at him. “Thanks.”
    “Ellen’s going to pry when she finds out Blair’s working. But Blair needs whatever independence she can get. She can’t be that woman’s bitch.”
    He nodded. “Good for her.”
    “Ellen wants to go to all the prenatal appointments. She showed up in her Lexus an hour before the one last week and was furious when Blair said no.”
    He imagined shy, sweet Blair staring down the imperious Ellen. “Good for her,” he said again.
    “Here’s a fork. Coffee?”
    What the heck. Stomach growling, he took the plate over to the small table by the window with its panoramic view of the bay and sat down. “Thanks.”
    She brought over a mug and joined him.
    “Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked.
    “Already did,” she said, sipping her coffee, watching him.
    He took a bite, realized he was starving, took another. It was cold but tasty. “Wow. This is good. And I know good food, living with my mother.”
    “Thanks.”
    He stared down at his plate. “That seems really pathetic, doesn’t it. Living with my mother.”
    “Not these days,” she said. “I was living with mine up until six weeks ago.”
    He swallowed another savory mouthful. “Really?” Smiling, he reached for the coffee. “That does make me feel a little better.”
    “I’m surprised you can’t afford your own place, though, being an engineer.”
    “Oh, I can afford it. I just like living at home.” Then he saw the way her eyebrows shot up on her forehead. “It’s just for a little while,” he added, but the damage was done.
    Loser alert, her face said.
    A very pretty face, though the blue robe was making it impossible to keep his gaze above her chin. Her breasts were a wonder of nature. They’d impressed him yesterday in the tank top, but now, full and lively and barely covered by the thin robe she wore, they struck him with awe. The nipples—lord, the nipples. He slathered butter onto a piece of toast and relived the sight from moments ago when she’d been chilled in the doorway.
    “I just moved back from Milwaukee, you see,” he said. “I haven’t had time to get my own place.”
    “Sure,” she said.
    Who was he kidding? He liked living at home. And Rose probably saw right through him anyway. “I lived by myself in Wisconsin and barely survived.” He smiled at her over his coffee. “I live with my mother because she adores me and feeds me fantastic meals and tells me I’m awesome.”
    “I completely understand.” Her face broke into a grin. “I’ve got one of those myself. If she hadn’t married Slug I might still be at home myself.”
    “Not his real name, I gather?”
    “It is to me.” She lifted her shoulders in a mock shudder, drawing his gaze down to her chest again. “It’s just you and your mom at the house?”
    That was one hell of a robe. She didn’t seem uncomfortable with him seeing her in it, which amazed him. Even if she didn’t like men, an assumption he was beginning to question, she was awfully relaxed about letting a near-stranger see her hard nipples poking through thin, shimmery bedroom material.
    “Mark?”
    Pretending to cough on his eggs, he lifted a napkin to his mouth and stared at his plate.
    “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry,” Rose said. “Would you like another piece of toast?”
    “It’s fine,” he said. “Just went down the wrong pipe. What was the question?”
    “Nothing, really. I was being nosy.”
    Enough of him had been paying attention to rewind what she’d said in his mind. “Ah, yes, we do live alone. Yes, though my brother and baby sister are