The Guest Cottage by Nancy Thayer Page B

Trevor snapped, “Well, excuse me, Nigella Lawson.”
    Sophie counted to ten and tried to be reasonable. “I’m remembering that when Jonah and Lacey were younger, I cooked
everything
and insisted they each try two or three bites. If they hated it, I made them a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. But I think it’s a good idea for children to learn to like all kinds of food.”
    “Okay,” Trevor agreed uncomfortably, “I take your point. But sometimes it’s best to stick with what’s familiar.”
    Leo,
Sophie thought. She’d been thoughtless. “Of course.”
    “ ’Sup?” Jonah, garbed like Trevor in shorts and a T-shirt, came into the room, his flip-flops flapping with each step. Pulling out a chair, he collapsed into it, sticking his long legs under the kitchen table.
    “No!” Leo shouted from beneath the table. “Now you’ve ruined everything!”
    Trevor half rose from his chair in alarm.
    Sophie reached over and clasped Trevor’s wrist. She whispered, “Wait.”
    Trevor gawked at her as if she had gone mad. Underneath the table, his little boy was crying.
    “Dude.” In one lanky coil, Jonah slipped out of his chair and onto the floor. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there. Hey, this is cool. What is it?”
    Sophie had no idea at all how fragile his son was, how upsetting the destruction of his Lego project would be for Leo, and how Jonah must seem like some kind of gigantic teenage transformer. And she had no idea of the thrashing, screaming monster Leo could turn into if something set him off. “Leo—”
    Leo sniffed. “It’s the Great Wall of China.”
    “Dude, that is totally awesome,” said Jonah. “Want me to help you put it back together?”
    Leo was quiet for a while. “I have to do it a special way.”
    “Got it,” Jonah said calmly. He crawled out from under the table and stood up. He bent down and said to Leo, “But tell me if you want some help.”
    Sophie’s hand was soft and warm. Her touch made the back of Trevor’s neck shiver. He wanted to seize her, throw her on the table, and ravish her. At the same time, he wanted her to back off, to let him handle Leo. He didn’t want his son upset, nor did he need her to see how helpless he was in the face of Leo’s outbursts.
    “Listen, Sophie,” Trevor began.
    Jonah snapped off two bananas and stepped out onto the patio to eat them. Under the table, Leo hummed to himself as he repaired his Lego wall.
    “Yes?” She tilted her pretty face toward his, waiting.
    What the hell was happening here? He didn’t even
know
this woman who’d brazenly touched him as if they were somehow related, who walked around in boxer shorts with her pretty legs hanging out, who appeared before him all natural and braless, who made him feel so many things at the same time he was afraid he would explode. The intimacy between them was like a song he’d never heard before. At the same time, anger flared from his gut. Who did she think she was to intervene between him and his son? She knew nothing about what Leo was going through.
    “Look, how can I say this? My little guy is special.”
    Sophie settled back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “All kids are special.”
    “What I mean is, maybe you shouldn’t tell me what to do with my own kid.”
    “I’m trying to help. I’ve raised two children. I know what four-year-olds are like.”
    Trevor stalked across the room and poured himself more coffee, giving himself time to think. “Okay, sure. But you don’t know what
my
four-year-old is like.”
    “Trevor, maybe you should remember no man is an island. If we’re going to live together for the next two months, we have to be comfortable talking to each other’s children.”
    You haven’t seen Leo’s tantrums,
he thought helplessly. But he didn’t want to scare her off and ruin this arrangement. Cornered, he snapped, “So now you’re Dr. Seuss?”
    Sophie covered her mouth to hide a smile. “I think you mean