"This isn't a good time for us to have breakfast or talk things out," Amanda continued, as Lee's gaze returned to her with a hopeful expression on his face. "None of us is dressed for it," she admonished, while pointedly looking from his formfitting tee shirt and workout shorts down to his bare feet.

"Uhh, you're right, I'll go downstairs, get dressed and leave." He was suddenly feeling very exposed and unsure of himself. Instead of repairing the damage that he'd done to their growing relationship, his rash decision to let himself into her home had only made her angrier at him.

"You'll do no such thing," Dotty interjected, sensing that her best, and possibly only chance to get to know her daughter's suitor was slipping away. "I'd like to take you up on your offer to prepare breakfast, all this early morning activity has served to work up my appetite. Why don't you get started, while Amanda and I shower and then get dressed?"

Determined not to irritate Amanda further, Lee turned to her to see whether she'd acquiesce or challenge her mother's desire to have him stay. She looked heavenward and then let out a theatrical sigh.

"I know when I'm outnumbered, you can stay, but I'm warning you right now that I'm not especially hungry. You can go get started, and Mother and I will be down in a little while." Lee hurriedly headed for the stairs, concerned that she might still change her mind. As she watched his retreating form, she noticed that her mother was also studying his physique appreciatively. Once he was out of sight, the two women wordlessly turned and headed into their respective bedrooms.

Amanda flipped on the overhead light in her bathroom, and studied her frazzled countenance in the mirror. It never fails, whenever I think I know what to expect from him, he goes and does something that leaves me feeling…oh heck…I don't what I'm feeling, that's part of the problem. I should be furious with him because he got caught by Mother, but he wouldn't have let himself in if I hadn't made a point of telling him that I'd be home alone all weekend. She briskly ran a brush through her hair and then pulled it into a ponytail. I thought that he would be afraid to meet Mother, but he actually seemed rather pleased that she invited him to stay. He doesn't know what he's in for; she could give the KGB interrogation lessons. She started to remove her robe when it occurred to her that Dotty had bathed before going to bed, and therefore wouldn't need to shower. Oh my gosh! She's probably downstairs with him this minute. Abandoning her own plan to shower, she decided to quickly get dressed so that she could curtail the interrogation that she was certain was in progress in her kitchen.

Dotty had indeed thrown on a sweater and slacks, and headed down to the kitchen. She'd clobbered Lee with a frying pan earlier, and now she was planning to grill him thoroughly. He'd quickly dressed in a chambray shirt and jeans, and was busily preparing their breakfast.

"You certainly appear very much at home in the kitchen." And this kitchen in particular. "Your wife must be very happy that you can cook," she observed, while casually pouring herself a glass of juice from the pitcher that he'd set out. Not missing a beat, he quickly glanced at her and smiled.

"I like a lady who doesn't mince her words. I'm not married, never have been, but I respect your determination to protect Amanda's interests…but, you should know her well enough to know that she wouldn't get involved with a married man."

"She wouldn't knowingly, but-"

"We've been working together long enough for her to know one way or the other, without a doubt." He hazarded a quick glance in her direction to see how she was taking his replies to her thus far. "I'm making French toast, with eggs on the side. Would you prefer an omelet or scrambled eggs?"

"I'm impressed by your obvious culinary skills. Your mother must be very proud that you're such a renaissance man."

"My…my parents were killed in a car accident when I was five," Lee said quietly while dipping a slice of bread into the French toast mixture that he'd just finished making.

"Oh, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to say something so insensitive, I'm being terribly nosy." She truly regretted getting so caught up in questioning him that she'd abandoned the basic good manners that she generally adhered to.

"It's okay, it's been thirty years, and you had no way of knowing."

"If you don't mind my asking, where did you learn to cook?" I'll tread more lightly, but if he's still willing to answer questions, I'm not going to stop asking them.

"I was raised by my uncle. He's a career Air Force officer, and we lived on bases all over the world. His friend, Barney, ran mess halls and gave me my first cooking lessons. I learned various foreign cuisines throughout our travels. The Colonel wasn't posted to any one place for very long."

"The colonel," a confused Dotty inquired.

"That's how I refer to my uncle," he explained awkwardly, wishing that he didn't refer to his only living relative in that manner so automatically. "He did right by me, but we've never been close. Amanda says that it's because we're too much alike." He realized that he'd put his foot in his mouth again when he saw Dotty's eyebrow shoot up.

"Amanda has met your uncle," she questioned, just as the younger woman hurried into the room.

T.B.C. as soon as is practically possible. Thanks for your patience!