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with their dinner.
    “I just wanted to thank you, again, for letting me stay here. If there’s anything I can do to help while I’m here, let me know. I would have taken over the kitchen chores, but I didn’t want to get in your way.”
    “Then don’t.”
    Silence filled the kitchen once more.
    “You’re not one for conversation, are you? A real caveman,” she joked.
    He didn’t say anything, and she had the oddest notion she’d hurt his feelings.
    “I’m just kidding. You’re a very nice man.” Was it her imagination, or did he cringe? “You’ve been nothing but hospitable, and I really appreciate it.” He hadn’t made a pass or anything. And that shouldn’t 19
     

    have bothered her in the slightest. Instead, she wondered what was so wrong with her that Cullen wasn’t interested. Stupid woman , her bird snapped . Shut up, bird.
    “I’m, ah, not used to company. Outside of family, I mean,” he muttered.
    “You all live here all the time?” she asked, curious about his family.
    “Yeah.”
    Great, another one-word answer. Trying to learn more about Cullen Whitefeather from the man himself was like pulling teeth. If it weren’t for those strange, intense looks he gave her, she’d think him totally immune to her presence.
    Cullen slid whatever he had cooked in the skillet onto two plates, then grabbed forks and joined her at the island.
    “Dig in.”
    He didn’t wait for her, but tore into his food like a man possessed. Kind of the way he ate at the diner, all business. Still, watching him was like looking at a work of art. The way his forearms bunched, the muscles prominent beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt. The strong chords of his throat as he swallowed. The steady rise and fall of his muscular chest, so close, yet not close enough to touch…
    “Sarah?”
    She met his gaze, embarrassed to be caught staring. “Ah, I was wondering…” She paused, not knowing what to say.
    “Yeah?” His face was inscrutable.
    “Where did you learn to cook?” That sounded innocuous enough.
    He visibly relaxed, and she relaxed with him.
    “My mother. She taught all of us how to cook, but I like it.” He stopped himself and she leaned forward.
    “Tell me more. I like hearing you talk.”
    He looked surprised. “My mother made sure all her sons could fend for themselves at an early age.”
    “You really love her, don’t you?” Sarah liked the fact that Cullen loved his mother. Nothing about him screamed momma’s boy. Instead, she sensed a genuine affection for his mother and brothers, no matter how many times he swore at them on the phone when they called at night.
    “I do. What about you? Your mother’s gone now, isn’t she?” he asked softly.
    Sarah’s heart dropped. “I loved my mother more than I can say. She’s been gone for eight years, and I still miss her. Car accident.”
    “Sorry,” he said gruffly.
    “Sometimes I think I smell her perfume, like she’s watching over me.” She refused to cry in front of him. “My friend Julia and I sometimes talk about her.”
    “Julia?”
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    “She’s a silver fox. She works for Gerald Winters, the town attorney.”
    Cullen shrugged. “I don’t go into town much, outside the diner. Just work up here in the mountains, carving wood.”
    “All of you do it?” she prodded, pleased he hadn’t yet clammed up on her.
    “Micah and I do most of the work. Ian’s our business guru. Mom works advertising and PR.”
    “Nice. A family business. It’s a good thing you all get along.”
    He grunted. “Mostly.”
    “What about your other brother? What does he do?”
    “Sean irritates me for a living,” Cullen growled.
    She grinned. She’d heard Cullen use a few choice words when talking to Sean just last night. “From what I hear, every family has one.”
    “A black sheep?” he asked.
    “A pain in the ass,” she answered, grinning like a fool when he laughed with her.
    “You surprise me, Sarah Duncan.” Cullen took