She stopped beside Nash and bent to offer him the platter. He served himself, avoiding looking into those eyes.
"Don't be shy, Nash. There's plenty more still in the oven."
She was so close Nash felt the whisper of her breath skate down the side of his throat. He turned his head slightly and met her gaze. Her lips curved as if she knew her effect on him, and he focused on the platter, adding another piece to his plate. "Happy?"
"Ecstatic," she said, then set the platter down. "The gravy is there, and help yourselves to seconds." She went to the hutch, picking up the water pitcher and refilling the glasses before stopping beside the girls, bending to their level. "You two doing okay?"
They nodded vigorously, their mouths full. "Vegetables, too," Hayley said. They made faces, then after a glance at their dad, nodded. She tipped her head to Nash. "How is it?"
"Incredible." He didn't look up.
"Sorta ticked you off, huh?"
Now he did look at her. He stared, dumbfounded for a second as he chewed.
"Admit it. You didn't think I could handle it."
He swallowed. "I admit to nothing."
"Careful, Nash, your testosterone is dripping." His gaze narrowed and she blinked sweetly, then straightened, accepting compliments as she left the room.
Nash gazed down the length of the table, realizing there was no place setting for her. He left his chair and went into the kitchen. She was seated at the worktable on a high stool, her face in a medical book as she ate. She looked like a pixie figurine, her head bowed, the fork poised. The lonely picture made his heart drop, and forced him to see how little family she'd had in her life. How many times had she dined alone? Spent a holiday alone?
"Hayley."
She looked up.
"Aren't you joining us?"
She gave him a patient smile. "I'm the hired help, not a regular one at that." She'd done this kind of work enough to know it just wasn't wise to include herself at the dinner table.
"I'm sure the girls would like it."
"But I wouldn't."
His brows drew down and he stepped closer.
Her heart immediately picked up its pace. "I'm temporary, Nash. I don't want to give the girls any ideas just because you and I knew each other once."
"Know each other," he corrected, his eyes speaking volumes.
In the biblical sense, the long nights they'd spent exploring each other. It was hard to erase those images and even harder right now to remember the heartache she'd suffered. Especially when he looked at her the way he was now. With heat and memory.
She put the fork down, shaking her head. "Don't go there, please."
He moved closer, his broad-shouldered presence blocking out the light. "Hayley."
"No, Nash." She tipped her head back and met his gaze.
The sheen in her sable eyes knocked the breath from his lungs.
"I can't look at you across a dinner table without remembering that you walked away from me without a word." Her voice lowered to a heart-wrenching whisper. "Without remembering what it was like to be loved by you." Her lower lip quivered.
Nash felt sliced to ribbons. "Hayley. I need to tell—"
"No. You don't. Michelle told me all I needed."
His eyes darkened with suppressed anger. "I can just imagine."
"It doesn't matter. I'm a stone's throw away from my residency."
He straightened. "And like before, nothing is going to stop you."
She reared back a bit. "Can you blame me? I've worked hard for my degree."
"I know you have. But we both can see there's still something here between us."
"We can't relive the past. Too much has gone on."
"I know I've hurt you—"
She laughed, a short bitter sound. "Don't assume to know how I feel, Nash. As I recall, you never bothered to ask that seven years ago." He started to speak and she put up her hand. "It makes no difference to me now."
Nash ground his teeth. It did matter. Even if she was too stubborn to admit it. His daughters' and the ranch hands' voices filtered to the kitchen. This was not the place or the time to discuss this. But they would, dammit. They would. And are you prepared to tell her the truth? a voice pestered.
"Spend the time with your children, Nash. Ask how long they treaded water." She focused on the book and again Nash felt dismissed in his own house. He turned to the doorway. "And they helped make supper, too," she added.
That was a hint to praise them, and Nash felt like a heel for leaving the girls all the time. But that couldn't be helped and was the singular reason Hayley was here. He stepped back into the dining room.
Hayley bowed her head, clutching the book to her chest and swallowing the tears threatening to erupt. She thought she'd dealt with this years ago. Hadn't she gone on with her life? Hadn't she focused ever bit of energy on her education? Yet she was here, in his house, working for him and she hated it. Hated the reminders that said she'd never let him out of her heart. Oh, Lord. How could she ever forgive him when it hurt so badly just to see what she'd lost? The worst of it was that she'd loved him back then very deeply, and when he'd asked her to put her education on hold, to marry him and raise a family, she'd almost conceded. They'd fought over it. He just couldn't understand that she'd dreamed of being a doctor since she was a child. She couldn't let anything stop her then, and he was unwilling to compromise. Besides, she didn't know a thing about having a home and family. She'd had little of that herself. She'd wanted her career and knew if she'd given in to him, she'd never have gone back to school, and she would have resented him for it.