Taming A Fortune. Nancy Robards Thompson

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      Angie followed the boys out of the house, where they’d set up the makeshift outdoor movie theater. And, just as Brian had said, Kylie had, indeed, made them a giant bed—with every blanket, sheet and pillow she could possibly find.

      “Did you leave any of the beds made up in the house?” Angie asked her.

      “Nope,” Kylie said. “Even Toby’s blankets and pillows are out here.”

      That wasn’t quite what Angie had in mind, which meant there was going to be a big mess to clean up afterward, when she doubted she’d have the energy to deal with it. But she wasn’t about to scold the kids when the whole idea had been hers in the first place—and when they’d tried so hard to follow her instructions.

      Besides, look how happy they were.

      “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

      She’d just finished setting up the projector with the Star Wars film threaded in the proper slots, when Toby’s Dodge rolled into the driveway.

      “What’s all this?” Toby asked, as he stepped out of his truck.

      “Movie night!” Justin yelled, as he barged out of the back door in his pajamas and dived onto the bedding on the lawn, calling his spot.

      Toby looked nearly as tired as Angie felt—probably realizing they’d have four beds to make up before anyone could go to sleep tonight.

      Angie hoped she hadn’t blown it by throwing the impromptu cinema party in his backyard.

      Toby nodded to the old projector. “Where in the world did you get that thing? Wait, don’t tell me. Does it have something to do with an old job?”

      His grin and a glimmer in his eye teased her in a way that didn’t make her feel quite so bad about her history of random employment. But she sidestepped his question and asked one of her own. “You look tired. Would you rather we do this another night?”

      “And disappoint the kids?” Toby’s grin blossomed into a smile, easing her mind. “No way. Let me get out of these clothes and put on something more comfortable.”

      Angie had been so busy reading into Toby’s expression, which hadn’t matched the upbeat tone of his voice when he’d called her earlier, that she’d failed to notice that he wasn’t wearing his trademark jeans, T-shirt and cowboy boots.

      He was dressed in black slacks, a button-down shirt and expensive dress boots. He looked sharp—and ready for a night on the town without the kids.

      She wondered what it might be like to actually go out on a date with him—if they had a sitter.

      That was, if he’d actually ask her to be his date.

      As Toby headed into the house, Brian and Kylie followed Justin’s lead, rushing outside in their pajamas and choosing their own spots to spread out on the blankets.

      But Angie’s thoughts were on Toby.

      “I’ll get the popcorn,” she told the kids. “Showtime is in five minutes.”

      She made her way into the house slowly. She didn’t want Toby to think that she was following him.

      But what if he’d wanted her to?

      Oh, get a grip. She was so sleep-deprived, she was becoming delusional.

      She was about to carry the first load of refreshments outside when Toby stepped into the kitchen.

      “Thanks,” he said, his eyes contradicting the simplicity of his single word as they bored deeply into her own.

      She tried to downplay the intensity in his gaze, as well as her efforts to provide a fun evening for the kids. “It was no big deal.”

      “Actually, it’s a big deal to me. You have no idea how much I need this right now.”

      She thought Toby was going to pull her in for a hug, and she would have willingly gone—if he’d made the first move. But as her heartbeats pounded off the seconds and he didn’t make the attempt, she realized it was probably more likely that one of the kids would come flying in the door to ask what was holding them up.

      So she handed him the bowl of popcorn and grabbed the five ice-cream-filled mugs by their handles and led the way out the back door.

      “So what are we watching?” Toby asked as he settled into the only spot the kids had left open, which happened to be right beside Angie.

      “Star Wars I,” Justin said.

      “No, dude, this is Star Wars IV,” Brian said snarkily, as if Justin was an idiot.

      “How can it be number IV when this is the first Star Wars they ever made?” Justin challenged back.

      Angie quickly explained the nuances of the Star Wars episodes before the boys came to blows across the blankets.

      “So you’re both right,” she said.

      The boys conceded, going back to their ice cream.

      “Is that my bedsheet?” Toby asked as he studied the improvised movie screen nailed to the side of his barn.

      “Well, the boys’ sheets are dark blue, and Kylie’s has a My Little Pony print,” Angie defended.

      “Why is there a big brown spot on it?” Toby asked, glossing over the fact that the boys had put nail holes into his sheet.

      “Justin dropped his end in some manure while I was on the ladder trying to nail it in place,” Brian explained.

      “I’m sorry,” Angie said. “I didn’t know they were going to use real nails. And I didn’t realize they’d dropped it in cow... Well, in...you know. I just thought you had stained sheets.”

      Toby looked at her as if she’d been the one to drop the manure outside the barn in the first place.

      “Did you try the popcorn yet?” she asked, trying to get the conversation heading in a different direction. “I put extra butter on it for you.”

      Toby reached into the bowl. “That stain on the sheet makes it look like Luke Skywalker has melanoma on his face.”

      “What’s ‘melanoma’?” Brian asked.

      “It’s a kind of skin cancer,” Angie answered.

      The pillows looked so comfortable. Maybe she could just put her head down for a second and rest her eyes, maybe even doze off for a moment or two.

      “My mommy died of cancer,” Justin said.

      “Is Luke Skywalker gonna die of cancer, too?” Kylie asked.

      Oh, no. Angie hadn’t meant to mention the C-word.

      “Nobody is going to die tonight,” Toby said, trying to save the day.

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