Gwynneth Ever After by Linda Poitevin Page A

was gone before she really had time to register it. He changed the subject. “How are Nicholas and Katie getting to school in the morning?”
    “My neighbor is chauffeuring Nicholas to and from kindergarten for me, and Katie’s friend’s mother will pick her up on their way.”
    “Good.” He nodded, seeming satisfied that she’d covered all the bases. “Are you ready for a cup of tea or something?”
    The or something held distinct appeal, but Gwyn managed to hold her tongue. “I’d love a cup of tea, but are you sure you have time? I don’t want to keep you if you have other plans.”
    “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
    Heat crept across Gwyn’s cheeks. “Of course not. I just thought – I meant – ”
    “You tuck Katie in. I’ll put on the kettle.”
    She was only too happy to make her escape.

Chapter 13
    Gareth watched a wisp of steam drift from the kettle. On the counter beside the stove, a tray stood ready. He sent it a baleful glance. Sugar, milk, spoons, teapot...and one cup.
    One, because he still held the other in a death grip while common sense wrestled romantic fancy.
    One, because no matter how much he wanted to stay, he shouldn’t. Should never have come here in the first place. He rubbed his stubbled jaw with one hand and scowled at the offending mug he held in the other.  
    What in the hell did he think he was playing at here, anyway? Why couldn’t he just be sensible and walk away? Breaking promises to Catherine, keeping secrets from Gwyn...
    He raked his hand through his hair.
    It wasn’t as if he hadn’t met attractive, sexy, intriguing women before, because he had. Many of them. Some had been mistakes from the very start, some had made a deeper impression than others...
    A metallic hiss vibrated through the copper kettle on the stove, and steam wisped from its spout.  
    But none had been like Gwyn.
    None had surprised him with a quirky honesty as enchanting as it was refreshing. None had made him, with a simple note of weariness in her voice, want to drop his own life so that he could make hers a little easier. None had made all his complications fade away with nothing more than her smile.
    And none had ever made him stand in a kitchen debating the addition of a second cup to a tea tray.
    He hefted the cup in his hand. Well, Connor? You know you want to...and you know you shouldn’t. What’s it going to be?
    Things would be so much simpler if he could just be honest with Gwyn. But he’d given his word to Catherine to keep Amy a secret until Amy herself decided to make their relationship public. With so much at stake, he would not – could not – break the first promise, however indirectly made, he’d ever given his daughter. Not for anyone.
    So, did he put this second cup on the tray, continue to deceive Gwyn for the moment, see where this spark led, and hope that she understood when she eventually found out? Or did he turn around, walk away, keep his promises intact, and, for the rest of his life, wonder what if ?
    Gareth sighed. Bloody hell. When he put it like that...
    He set the cup on the tray.
    ***
    For the second evening in a row, Gwyn’s belly twisted into knots as she descended the stairs. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so distracted. Lord, she’d stumbled so many times over reading to Katie that her poor daughter had finally heaved an exasperated sigh, taken the book out of her hands, and told her they’d continue tomorrow.
    Not even the resulting guilt had stilled her thoughts of Gareth.  
    He waited for her in the sitting room. A tea tray sat on the wooden trunk, her CD of Bach’s violin concertos played quietly in the background, and Gwyn’s stomach did three complete flips before she even stepped down into the room.
    He looked up from a magazine as she walked around the trunk to join him on the couch. “Break time?”
    “Until the next round,” Gwyn agreed. She motioned at the tray. “Thank you for making the tea.”
    “You’re