"Too late."

There was that wicked sense of humor again, coming out of nowhere.

"Have you hired an attorney?"

"No."

"You should."

"And I suppose you just happen to know one. Or two. Maybe you even know the judge."

"Well..." She cupped her hands under her chin and leaned toward him. "As a matter of fact, one of my brothers is an attorney. He's also a city councilman."

Collin leaned back his chair. "So he's the one."

"Don't look like that. If my brother hadn't spoken to the chief, you might never have agreed to mentor Mitch. And you like having him out here. You know you do."

"The kid's all right. He's good for the animals."

She laughed. If Collin wanted to pretend he cared nothing about the boy, fine. But he did.

"You've made more progress with Mitchell in a week than anyone else has made in a year."

The boy basked in the policeman's attention, eager to please him, ready to listen to his few, terse words. According to his fifth-grade teacher, Mitch had even turned in all his homework this week, a first.

Collin set the laptop and the brown envelope on an empty chair. "So, you gonna show me that file you brought or talk me to death?"

"Both." She handed over the manila folder.

His eyes twinkled. "Figures."

"You won't die from a little conversation, Collin. Talking things out might do you some good."

She liked listening to his quiet, manly voice as much as she enjoyed looking at him. He was an attractive man. Mia squelched a stomach flutter. Very attractive.

Less intimidating in street attire, tonight he wore a Tac-team T-shirt neatly tucked into well-worn blue jeans. Muscular biceps, fine-cut by exercise and work, stretched the sleeves snug.

"I keep noticing your tattoo." Among other things. "What is it?"

He looked up from studying the file. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't tell her, but then he pushed the sleeve higher and rotated toward her.

Her heart stutter-stepped. Each leaf of a small shamrock bore, not initials as she'd thought, but a name. "Drew, Ian, Collin," she read.

"I didn't want to forget," he said simply. "Not even for a day."

All her preconceived ideas about tattoos went flying out the door. Without forethought, Mia placed her fingers on his arm just beneath the clover. His dark skin was warm and firm and strong with leashed power.

"What an incredibly loving thing to do."

He slid away from her and stood, closing the file. "Mitch should be up here by now. He has homework."

Helping Mitchell with his homework hadn't been part of the court order but Collin didn't let that deter him.

He crossed the few steps to the door and stood gazing out, his back to her. She felt the uncertainty in him, the discomfort that she'd generated with her comment. Or maybe with her touch. One thing was clear. Collin had a hard time expressing emotions. He might feel them. He just couldn't let them show.

She held back a smile. To an Italian, Collin Grace was a red flag waved in front of a bull. Expression was what she and her family did best. She would either drive Collin crazy or help him heal. She hoped it was the latter. Collin had a lot to offer people if he would only open up and trust a little more.

"Collin?"

He tensed but didn't turn around. "What?"

"My family's having a birthday party on Saturday for Nic, my youngest brother. He's turning twenty-one. If you'll come, I'll introduce you to Adam. He might be able to help with the lawsuit."

He looked at her over one shoulder. "How many brothers do you have?"

"Three bros, one sister and a lot of cousins, aunts and uncles."

"You're lucky."

"Yes. Incredibly blessed. You'll like them, Collin. They're great people."

He turned all the way around, tilting his head so she would know he teased. "Do they all talk as much as you?"

She grinned. "All but Uncle Vitorio. Come on, Collin. Say you'll be there."

"I wouldn't want to intrude." Which meant he wanted to come.

"No such thing at a Carano gathering. We have a motto. The more the merrier."

"Not too original."

She shrugged. "Who cares? It fits. So what do you say?" She really, really wanted him to come. For professional reasons, of course.

Cocoa-colored eyes holding hers, he considered the invitation for a minute but finally said, "Better not."

Disappointment seeped into her, but disappeared as quickly as the next thought arrived. "You could bring Mitch. He needs to interact with a strong family unit, and even if I do say so myself, mine fits the bill."

Hanging out with the Caranos would be good for Collin, too, but she couldn't say that.

"Proud of them, are you?"

"They're a little crazy, and none of us is perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but yeah, I have a great family."

"Taking Mitch is a good idea, but you don't need me along."

"He won't go without you." And she was glad. Collin needed the warm circle of family around him as much as the child did. A man who'd grown up in the system wouldn't have had too many opportunities to witness healthy family relationships. Besides, the Caranos were a lot of fun and if anyone could melt the ice shield from Collin and Mitchell, her family could.

"Here he comes now," she said at the sound of feet tromping on the porch. "Why don't we ask him?"

Collin held the door open as Mitch, Archie the turtle in hand, came inside. To everyone's astonishment, the turtle with the cracked shell was thriving.

"Ask me what?" The little turtle's claws scratched at the air and found purchase when Mitchell placed him on the table.

"You want to go to a party at my house on Saturday?"

Mitch squinted at Mia and then up at Collin. "You going?"

Mia giggled. Collin slanted his eyes at her in silent warning. She laughed out loud.

"It'll be a great party. Lots of food and games and craziness. My folks have a swimming pool." She let that little bit of enticement dangle.

Scooping Archie against his chest, Mitch plopped into a chair. "A real pool? Or one of them kiddie things?"

"Above-ground, but it's big. Has a slide and everything."

"Are your parents rich?"

Mia laughed. "No. They've run a little family bakery forever, but they know how to save money for the things that matter."

Mitch eyeballed Collin, who had gone to the fridge for boxes of juice. Mia knew avoidance behaviors when she saw them.

"They probably wouldn't want me to come." The boy's voice held a longing that neither adult could miss. "I don't have any trunks."

Collin slammed a straw through the top of a juice box with such force the plastic bent.

"We'll get some," he said gruffly.

"You're going too?" Mitch sat up straight and punched the air. "All right. This will be awesome!"

Collin sent Mia a look that would have quelled anyone but a determined social worker.

And she knew she'd won.

Chapter Six.

By the time Saturday afternoon rolled around, the knot in Collin's stomach had grown from the size of a pea to that of a watermelon. Mitchell wasn't in any better shape. The kid, usually mouthy as Mia, had barely said two words on the drive to the Carano place.

Collin knew how the kid felt. Out of place. A misfit. The uncertainty was one of the reasons he avoided hanging out with his police buddy, Maurice. How did a person fit into a family when they didn't know what a family should be?

But Collin had learned about and yearned for the kind of relationships Mia bragged about. Even if he might never have them for himself, he wanted them for Mitch. The kid needed to know there was better out there than a stepdad who knocked your mom around and hung out with thugs. Mitchell needed this, which was exactly why Collin had swallowed his reluctance and put on a show about wanting to meet the Caranos.

When they pulled up in front of the sprawling home in a nice older neighborhood in northwest Oklahoma City, a half-dozen other cars already lined the street out front. Collin did his usual scan of the premises, committing the vehicle descriptions and the entrances and exits to memory, the police officer in him never off duty.

Mitch fidgeted with his seat belt. "You think they'll like me?"

The question bothered Collin but he didn't let his feelings show. The kid already knew that people would judge him by his rough clothes and poor grammar. He might as well have White Trash tattooed on his forehead.

"If Mia likes you, they will, too."

"She likes me because she has to. It's her job."

Collin squeezed the back of Mitch's neck. "You know better."

"Yeah." The boy pumped his eyebrows in silliness. "She likes me 'cause I'm cute."

Collin made a rude noise. Mitch's laughter relaxed them both.

As they started up the hedge-lined walkway, squeals and laughter echoed from the backyard. A football came flying over a wooden privacy fence and landed at Collin's feet. He picked it up just as the gate opened. He expected a kid to come charging after the ball. Instead, a grown man, probably near his age, trotted toward him. His maroon T-shirt was sweat-plastered to his upper body.

Collin held up the ball. "This belong to you?"

"Coulda had a touchdown if I'd been taller." The man stopped in front of them and bent forward, hands on knees to catch his breath. "You must be Collin and Mitch. Glad you're here. Mia's wearing a hole in the carpet."

She was?

"I'm Adam, Mia's favorite brother." He laughed, smile bright in a dark face, and extended his hand to Mitch and then to Collin. "You must be the cop Mia's been telling us about."

She talked about him? "I hope it's good."

"So far."

The man was friendly enough, but Collin knew when he was being checked out. He didn't miss the subtle warning. Mess with a Carano and you have to answer to the whole clan. He admired that. He had been that way with his own brothers, though he was surprised that Adam would feel the need to warn him about anything. He'd come here to help a troubled kid, not because of Mia.

Adam tossed the ball back and forth from one hand to the other. "You play football?" he said to Mitchell.

"I stink at it."

"Awesome." Adam gently shoved the ball into the boy's mid-section. "You can be on my team. We all stink at it, too. How about you, Collin?"

"Yeah. I stink at it, too."

Adam laughed and slapped him on the back. "Come on. I'll take you inside to find Mia. We'll get a game going later."

Adam's friendly greeting took some of the tension out of Collin's jaw. Maybe he could get through this afternoon with a minimum amount of stress.

Collin's first impression of the Carano house was the noise, good noise that came from talk and laughter and activity. Several conversations bounced around the large, crowded living room in competition with a big-screen TV blasting a game between the Texas Longhorns and the Oklahoma State Cowboys. There were kitchen noises too, of pots and pans and cabinets opening and closing.

Through patio doors at the opposite end, the pool was visible, along with the remnants of the touch football game they'd interrupted. He glanced down at Mitch, saw the boy scanning the backyard with typical kid radar. He figured Mitch would be fine as soon as he worked his way outside.

The incredible smell of home-cooked food issued from the enormous area to his left. The kitchen was exactly the kind he had envisioned for Mia, though she no longer lived here. Washed warm with sunlight and the rich earthy colors of brick-red flooring, the room was dappled with overflowing fruit baskets, clear jars of colorful pasta, and copper pots dangling above a center island. He located Mia at the island arranging cheese and fruit on a platter.

The knot in his stomach reacted oddly. He was glad to see her, whether because she was the only familiar face in the crowd or otherwise, he didn't know. And he wasn't bothering to go there. Two weeks ago, she was a pain in his neck.