Cara shrugged. “Lila wasn’t around, so I thought I’d jump on it.”

Roman crossed to the window and looked across the expanse of the ranch. The sun’s pale gold rays had already crept over a good portion of the property. “I usually start the coffee in the morning while Lila is over at the bunkhouse fixing up breakfast for the actors.”

“Ah. She’s a hardworking woman.”

“Can’t stop her,” Roman said, glancing over at Cara. The lighting in the kitchen was soft, natural, and made her complexion seem to glow. “Believe me, I’ve tried to convince Lila to order takeout a few times. Having you do the dinners and dessert is about as close to a vacation as Lila’s ever had.”

“I believe it,” Cara said. “She’s offered to help me more than once. I’ve turned her down so far, but wanted to ask you about it. Mia is harder to turn down.”

Roman chuckled. “Oh, that’s true about Mia. Sounds like you’ve been bewitched like the rest of us.”

The smile on Cara’s face did something funny to Roman’s heart.

“She’s darling and so dang smart,” Cara said. “Reminds me of my niece Ruby. Those two girls are forces to be reckoned with—in the best way, of course.”

Roman’s heart warmed even more. “You don’t think Mia’s spoiled? Stacy has told me that Mia’s doted on too much, and she’ll turn into a brat if I’m not careful.”

Cara set her phone down and joined him at the window. “You know, I’m not a mom, so I’m no expert. But I love that Mia knows what she wants and knows how to ask for it. The answer shouldn’t always be yes, of course, but there’s no harm in asking.”

“Or demanding?” Roman ventured.

Cara only smiled. “Or demanding. As a six-year-old is apt to do.”

He nodded with a chuckle. “You’ve got that right.”

Cara nudged his arm with her shoulder. “Anytime you need a break, send Mia to the kitchen. I’ve enjoyed teaching her a few things. She’s an eager student and surprisingly helpful for a six-year-old.”

Roman was listening, but he was focusing on the way Cara had so casually bumped his shoulder. It seemed she was just that type of person . . . chummy. He met her gaze fully. Her blue eyes had some gold in them—was it because of the sunlight? And she smelled like cinnamon again. Was it her shampoo or body wash? He really shouldn’t be wondering about such things.

“Are you saying I might have a mini chef on my hands?” he asked in a quiet voice. Cara’s eyelashes fluttered. He didn’t think she was wearing makeup, which meant her eyelashes were naturally dark.

She tugged her braid over her shoulder and twisted it. “Would her father approve?”

“Most definitely.” He shifted a little closer to reach for a bit of lint at the end of her braid. After plucking it out, he released it. They both watched the lint float to the floor.

“You’re leaning again.”

“Oh, sorry.” But Roman didn’t straighten. He didn’t step back. He gazed into Cara Prosper’s eyes and wondered, not for the first time, why he was so captivated by this woman.

“Don’t try to change a thing about your daughter,” she said, ignoring the fact that they were standing so close together.

Was her heart beating as fast as his? “I like that advice,” he said. “Makes my life easier.”

Cara laughed then. In the quiet of the kitchen on a new morning, it was a magical sound. The only problem was that Roman had the intense desire to close the distance between them. Kiss her bare, tanned shoulder. Then take it one step further and kiss the dusky pink of her lips.

The coffee maker beeped.

Roman blinked.

Cara turned away and walked to the counter. Without a word, she took down two mugs and filled them.

By the time she brought the steaming mugs to the counter, Roman had snapped out of the moment when he’d almost kissed his hired chef. He didn’t know if he was going crazy, or if he was finally completely sane.

One thing he did know for sure was that he needed to take a long walk in the cold winter morning before joining the crew on set. “Thanks,” he said in a rasp.

“No problem.” Cara settled on a stool two down from him.

Roman noted the distance. It was a good distance. A smart distance.