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considered what’s involved? I’m not a hundred percent convinced you’d be willing to make the sacrifices.”
    She missed her mouth with the edge of her coffee cup, sending a shower of the brew onto her knit top. “Darn.” She dabbed her chest with a paper napkin, keenly aware of Mark’s interested expression.
    â€œI’d be glad to help,” he said with mock earnestness.
    She wished her breasts didn’t tighten beneath his gaze. “I’m sure you would.”
    â€œBut that might be construed as harassment.”
    â€œI’m the one who kissed you,” she reminded him. “Forget it. I’m working up some outrage and I’m not going to waste it by flirting.” Deep breath. “How dare you imply I wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice for motherhood?”
    Whatever it took, she’d do it. When she was ready, Sam amended for the sake of honesty.
    â€œI don’t doubt that you’d sacrifice your comfort,” Mark told her soberly. “And your finances, and possibly your health. What I meant was that I doubt you’d give up your volunteer work.”
    She’d never considered motherhood and volunteering incompatible. “Why should I?”
    â€œBecause children deserve more than spare minutes between working and saving the world, which is part of why I choose not to have any,” he said. “And because you deserve the joy of being there for those unpredictable, precious moments when a child says or does or understands something in a unique way.”
    She didn’t have to nurture her annoyance any longer; it sprang up forcefully. “There’s no reason I can’t manage all that.”
    â€œThere are only twenty-four hours in a day,” Mark cautioned. “And very few years before kids start sharing more with their friends and teachers than with their parents.”
    â€œA woman shouldn’t have to choose between motherhood and other goals,” Sam snapped.
    â€œEverybody has to make choices. Men included.”
    This conversation wasn’t going at all to her liking. Well, two could play at this game, especially since Mark seemed blissfully unaware of his own shortcomings.
    â€œYou make choices too easily,” Sam countered. “You choose one course of action and push everything else aside without considering whether it’s necessary or wise or right to compromise.”
    â€œThat’s rather a broad conclusion, don’t you think?”
    â€œBut accurate.” Sam believed in intuitive leaps. “You were quick to doubt your sister’s sobriety.”
    If she’d expected an offended reaction, she’d have been disappointed. “I’d put the odds against her showing up for Christmas at eighty-twenty,” Mark said levelly.
    Samantha was rooting for his sister, and not only out of compassion. “I’ll take those odds.”
    He tilted his head. “What’s the bet?”
    She hadn’t considered this a real wager, but why not? As long as they kept things light. “A kiss under the mistletoe.”
    He gave her a heart-stopping smile. “Yes, but which of us gets the kiss?”
    â€œYou do, if you win.” Sam would enjoy it, too, but she needn’t mention that.
    â€œWhat if you win?” he asked suspiciously.
    She wanted to suggest he let the counseling clinic keep its quarters, but he’d never agree to that. “You buy me a piece of kitschy glassware at a yard sale.” Not that she wanted any more clutter. Rather, Mark needed to loosen up. He might even decide to buy a few odds and ends for those nearly naked cupboards of his.
    â€œIt’s a deal.” He stood and reached across the table, and they shook. Big, warm hand with blunt fingertips, which struck Samantha as very masculine.
    â€œOrange is a nice color, but I like blue, too,” she advised him. “Multicolors have a kind of retro