Local Hero

a bottle of wine or fixed a simple dinner with a man. “To neighbors,” he said, and thought she relaxed fractionally as he touched his glass to hers.
    “Why don’t you sit down while I bone the chicken? Then you can deal with the vegetables.”
    He didn’t sit, but did lean back against the counter. He wasn’t willing to give her the distance he was sure she wanted. Not when she smelled so good. She handled the knife like an expert, he noted as he sipped his wine. Impressive. Most of the career women he knew were more experienced in takeouts. “So, how’s the new job?”
    Hester moved her shoulders. “It’s working out well. The manager’s a stickler for efficiency, and that trickles down. Rad and I have been having conferences all week so we can compare notes.”
    Was that what they’d been talking about when they’d walked home today? he wondered. Was that why she’d laughed? “How’s Radley taking the new school?”
    “Amazingly well.” Her lips softened and curved again. He was tempted to touch a fingertip to them to feel the movement. “Whatever happens in Rad’s life, he rolls with. He’s incredible.”
    There was a shadow there, a slight one, but he could see it in her eyes. “Divorce is tough,” he said, and watched Hester freeze up.
    “Yes.” She put the boned and cubed chicken in a bowl. “You can chop this while I start the rice.”
    “Sure.” No trespassing, he thought, and let it drop. For now. He’d gone with the law of averages when he’d mentioned divorce, and realized he’d been on the mark. But the mark was still raw. Unless he missed his guess, the divorce had been a lot tougher on her than on Radley. He was also sure that if he wanted to draw her out, it would have to be through the boy. “Rad mentioned that he wanted to come down and visit, but you’d put him off.”
    Hester handed Mitch an onion before she put a pan on the stove. “I didn’t want him disturbing your work.”
    “We both know what you think of my work.”
    “I had no intention of offending you the other night,” she said stiffly. “It was only that—”
    “You can’t conceive of a grown man making a living writing comic books.”
    Hester remained silent as she measured out water. “It’s none of my business how you make your living.”
    “That’s right.” Mitch took a long sip of wine before he attacked the celery. “In any case, I want you to know that Rad can come see me whenever he likes.”
    “That’s very nice of you, but—”
    “No buts, Hester. I like him. And since I’m in the position of calling my own hours, he won’t bother me. What do I do with the mushrooms?”
    “Slice.” She put the lid on the rice before crossing over to show him. “Not too thin. Just make sure . . .” Her words trailed off when he closed his hand over hers on the knife.
    “Like this?” The move was easy. He didn’t even have to think about it, but simply shifted until she was trapped between his arms, her back pressed against him. Giving in to the urge, he bent down so that his mouth was close to her ear.
    “Yes, that’s fine.” She stared down at their joined hands and tried to keep her voice even. “It really doesn’t matter.”
    “We aim to please.”
    “I have to put on the chicken.” She turned and found herself in deeper water. It was a mistake to look up at him, to see that slight smile on his lips and that calm, confident look in his eyes. Instinctively she lifted a hand to his chest. Even that was a mistake. She could feel the slow, steady beat of his heart. She couldn’t back up, because there was no place to go, and stepping forward was tempting, dangerously so. “Mitch, you’re in my way.”
    He’d seen it. Though it had been free briefly and suppressed quickly, he’d seen the passion come into her eyes. So she could feel and want and wonder. Maybe it was best if they both wondered a little while longer. “I think you’re going to find that happening a lot.” But he shifted aside and let her pass. “You smell good, Hester, damn good.”
    That quiet statement did nothing to ease her pulse rate. Humoring Radley or not, she vowed this would be the last time she entertained Mitch Dempsey. Hester turned on the gas under the wok and added peanut oil. “I take it you do your work at home, then. No office?”
    He’d let her have it her way for the time being. The minute she’d turned in his arms and looked up at him, he’d known he’d have it his way—have