"Still looking for Miss Right," he said when Linda asked what Maddie was dying to know.
"Ms. Right," Maddie said then winced. Who the hell cared for gender politics when the man of her teen dreams lounged against her sister's kitchen bench?
God, he looked better in jeans at thirty-two than he had at seventeen. They fit snugly around his long legs, tight butt and a bulge that had been the envy of the jocks and the Holy Grail of the year nine girls.
"Sorry," Sam said. "I didn't realize 'Miss' was an unacceptable title in the twenty-first century."
She tried to smile, tried to look casual and cool, but her glasses slipped down her nose. She was such a dork. "It's just politically incorrect nowadays."
His gaze skimmed up her face, settling on her eyes, or maybe her glasses. She should have worn the blue framed ones, they made her look sexier.
Who was she kidding? Glasses and sexiness went together like peanut butter and chocolate.
Actually, that sounded interesting. She’d have to try it when she finished her diet.
"I'll try to remember that next time I'm speaking about a matrimonially challenged female," he said.
Linda snorted. Maddie's smile tightened and she ground her teeth. Pete had better hurry up and get home if he didn't want his sister-in-law and best friend exchanging insults before they even sat down to dinner. Sam may be great eye candy but he'd never been her favorite person. Nothing had changed. He still liked teasing her, and she still didn't know how to take it.
"Those kids are way too quiet for my liking," Linda said, turning down the oven. "I'd better make sure they still have their hair."
Sam's eyebrows rose.
"David chopped Emily's off a couple of weeks back."
"Ah, that explains the crew cut. I thought she was trying for the tomboy look."
"She's three," Maddie said. "She's too young to have a look."
The raised brows turned on her. "Sorry, but I don't know what's in the mind of a three year-old girl."
Maybe she should shut up now. Years ago, when confronted by the over-confident, smart-mouthed Sam Hennessy, her instinct had been for flight. Now that she was older and could hold her own in verbal combat, her instincts told her to fight. But those instincts might get her into trouble. It usually did these days.
"Make sure Ronan doesn't try to climb out of his high chair, Maddie," Linda said as the kitchen door swung closed behind her.
Hearing his name, Ronan gurgled. Maddie tickled his chin until he squirmed and tried to launch himself out of the chair.
"Uh, Maddie," said Sam.
She sat Ronan up straight and dared him to move with a glare. "What?"
"The gravy..."
"Oh no!"
Sam beat her to the stove but not before gravy spilled down the sides of the saucepan. He turned down the burner and removed the saucepan.
"You watch the pots on the left," she said, "and I'll take the right. I don't know how Linda does this every day."
"I guess it's something you get used to."
"I doubt I ever could."
"Sure you would. When the time's right for you. Personally, I love it. Nothing like kids running around the house to make life interesting."
Maddie looked at him sideways. "You like kids?"
"Of course."
Was this the same Sam Hennessy who at fourteen rode a stolen motorbike through the school grounds? The same Sam Hennessy who wrote dirty limericks on the girl's toilet walls and spent more time in detention than regular classes? That Sam Hennessy wouldn't want kids cramping his lifestyle of wild parties and wilder dates.
He glanced around the kitchen then smiled at Ronan. The baby gurgled and grinned back. "Three kids and another on the way," he said with a shake of his head. "Who'd have thought your sister would settle down?"
"Not me. I thought I'd be the one with a husband and family by the time I was thirty and my sister would be the charity case I had over to dinner." At least, that was the way it was meant to be.
He smiled and his gaze grazed over her body before returning to her face. "You don't look like a charity case."
Maddie's skin grew warm and tingly from the heat cast by the stove. Definitely the stove. Sheesh, but it was hot in the kitchen
"Linda's changed a lot since school," he went on. "I remember her as a party animal. Never still for one second, always wanting to go out. I don't know how Pete kept up with her."
"He got her pregnant."
"Hasn't slowed her down from what I can see."
"She's only fourteen weeks. Wait till she's eight months and see her waddle after the other kids." She smiled. "Last time she perfected the art of shoe throwing. David soon learned he couldn't dodge it."