It didn't matter why he'd kissed her. She would forget about it altogether and get back to the reason she was here. Her work. That had always been the focus of her life, and she liked it that way.

And if she did feel the need to think about romance, she'd think about it with the right person. The person who had been her partner for many very unproblematic years. Nelson.

Chase may be extremely handsome and charming, but he wasn't the companion that Nelson was to her.

She stared up at the ceiling, picturing Nelson. His eyes, his smile, the way he kissed.

She concentrated for several moments, then let out a frustrated groan and rolled over to bury her face in her pillow. No matter how hard she tried, all she could envision were the pale blue eyes, devilish smile and wonderfully sculpted lips of another man.

Chapter 7.

Summer was arriving in Millbrook. The days were longer. The weather was warmer. And the mud created by the winter thaw and April showers was everywhere. Not that Abby had given much thought to the mucky substance-until a small person covered from head to toe in the stuff ran smack-dab into her as she stepped out of her car.

Abby squealed, dropped her briefcase and watched in amazement as the muddy being fell to the ground at her feet with a loud "Oof!"

She continued to stare at the individual until she heard the pounding of feet, and another mud-caked creature raced toward her at top speed. Without stopping to retrieve her briefcase, she darted around her car.

But the muddy thing didn't notice her, running straight to the mud-being lying on the ground. Suddenly the two creatures merged into a wiggling, giggling and yipping ball rolling across her front yard.

Abby squinted at the tumbling mass, trying to make out who or what they were. Then the larger of the muddy creatures sat back and let out a deep, joyous bark.

"Chester?" Abby called, and immediately realized her mistake as the dog turned and spotted her. Without further encouragement, the grimy animal hopped up and galloped toward her.

Soon, Abby was flat on her back, covered in mud and dog slobber.

"Chester!" a displeased voice commanded.

Instantly, the dog was off her. She sat up, and used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe the dirt and saliva from her face.

Unsure what to do, she sat there for a moment. She dreaded facing the owner of that irritated voice. For almost a week, she had managed to avoid Chase, but it appeared her luck had run out. And, if she had to see Chase again, this wasn't exactly the way she wanted to meet him-flat on her bottom, covered in goo.

"Here, let me help you up."

Slowly, Abby eyes traveled up him, noting the nice fit of his faded jeans and white T-shirt on the way to his face. A tool belt sat low on his narrow hips, and his lips turned down at the corners as he looked at her. He extended his hand.

Reluctantly, she accepted it, and felt a pang of embarrassment as mud, dried grass and fur squished between their palms.

"Are you okay?" he asked, after she was on her feet.

She looked down at herself. Splotches of dirt marred the cream wool of her trousers and blazer. And her cheeks still felt sticky from the combination of mud and dog drool.

"I'm fine," she managed, then noticed that two faces were peeking around Chase's legs. One was furry, the other freckled, and both looked guilty as sin.

Abby couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, I recognize one of the mud monsters, but who's the other one?"

Her reaction startled Chase. He had expected Abby to be livid, and who could blame her. From the looks of it, her suit-a very expensive suit if he had to guess-was ruined. The contents of her briefcase were scattered around the driveway, and she was likely going to have a sore bottom from Chester bowling her over.

But instead, she stood there giggling, a delighted expression on her mud-smudged face.

Chase simply stared at her for a moment. She looked absolutely lovely. Laughter danced her eyes, and the curve of her wide mouth seemed to gentle the angles of her face.

After several moments, she must have decided he wasn't going to answer, because she leaned down and grinned at the small boy hugging his left leg.

"And who are you?"

The boy hid his face against Chase's outer thigh and mumbled, "Willy."

Abby squatted down and offered her muddied hand to the child. "Well, I'm Abby. And I must say, I've never had a greeting like that before."

Willy pressed his face harder against Chase's leg and muttered, "Sorry."

Abby reached forward and ruffled Willy's disheveled, matted hair. "I'm sorry that I screamed. I thought you were a big old newt coming out of hibernation."

Willy looked up at her, his blue eyes seeming to swallow up his entire face. "What's a newt?"

"It's an animal sort of like a salamander."

"I like salamanders," Willy told her.

"So do I," Abby agreed wholeheartedly.

Willy looked impressed.

Chase reached down and patted the boy's narrow shoulder. "Okay, Willy, apologize to Ms. Stepp once

more, and let's get you cleaned up. Your mother will have my head if I send you home looking like that."

"I'm sorry," Willy said, this time offering Abby a regretful smile.

"No problem, Willy. Mud happens."

"Yes, it does," Willy agreed with a wide smile that showed his missing front teeth.

"Are you really okay?" Chase asked, studying her, trying to see any bumps or bruises.

"I'm fine," she assured him. Some of the softness she showed Willy faded. "Nothing soap and water

can't fix."

Chase cast a dubious look at her suit.

She followed his gaze and added with a shrug, "And maybe a really good dry cleaner."

Chase was amazed at her calmness. He'd expected her to be furious. Especially since it had been his

dog and his charge that had caused such a disaster. He couldn't help noticing that she had been avoiding

him for the past week. This incident wouldn't win her over.

"Should those papers be blowing away?" Willy asked, in the matter-of-fact voice that only a seven-year-old can use.

Both Abby and Chase looked behind them and saw the papers from Abby's briefcase fluttering toward the street.

"Oh no!" she cried, dashing toward the papers.

Chase caught her arm and gestured toward her muddied hands. "I'll get them."

He swiftly gathered the white sheets, relieved to see that not many had been caught by the wind. Once he had collected them all, he straightened them out, careful not to bend the corners. The white pages were covered with words and drawings, none of which Chase could understand.

Abby had picked up her leather case. "Thank you," she said with relief. "That's all the information for an

article I'm writing."

Chase nodded. "I figured they were important. Let me bring them inside. I don't want you to get mud all over everything."

Abby hesitated and then offered him an appreciative smile. "That would be helpful."

Chase followed her onto the porch and waited while Abby searched for her house key. After a few moments, she let out an irritated groan.

"What?" he asked.

"I left the key in my desk drawer at the lab."

"That's no problem, I'll give you a ride over there to pick it up."

"No, it's too far." She pulled back the sleeve of her now brown suit to check her watch. "And Ellie

should be home any minute."

He didn't like the idea of Abby just sitting on the porch in the waning light as she waited for Ellie to

arrive.

"Well, at least come to my house and wait. Your clothes are damp, and the air is starting to get nippy."

Hesitation shadowed Abby's eyes.

"I promise I'll be a complete gentleman. And Willy's going to be there too," he assured her.

Abby started to refuse, but Chase shook his head. "I'm not taking no for an answer. My dog assaulted

you. The least I can do is offer you a hot cup of coffee and a place to wait."

Abby didn't answer for a second, then gave him an adorably wistful look. "Coffee?"

"Fresh brewed."

"Okay," she agreed.

Chase reached out and took her briefcase. He slipped the papers into it and slid the strap over his

shoulder.

"Come on, Willy. I think there's a shower with your name on it."

Willy looked up from petting Chester and groaned. Then a hopeful expression lit his face. "Can Chester