I snatch up my phone off the counter and turn to leave, but then remember something.

“May I have your phone number?” I twist back around and ask. “Like in case there’s a problem here or I lose my key or something?”

He looks at me over his shoulder, his hands still in the water. “Oh, right.” He shuts off the faucet and grabs a towel, drying himself. “Good idea. Here.”

He grabs his phone and unlocks the screen, handing it to me. “Put yours in mine, too, then.”

I give him my phone and take his, entering in my first name and my cell number. I’m glad I remembered, actually. Anything could go wrong with the house. The basement could flood, packages could be delivered that aren’t mine, I might not be able to handle dinner on one of Cole’s and my nights and need to alert him…. This isn’t my place where I get to make all the decisions anymore.

I give his back, and he hands me mine, but music starts playing from mine, and he does a double-take at my screen. My music app must’ve been up and he accidentally hit something.

Shit.

George Michael’s Father Figure starts playing, and his eyebrows shoot up as the suggestive chorus starts.

My mouth goes dry, the lyrics registering.

I snatch the phone back and turn it off.

He breathes out a laugh.

Awesome.

Then he straightens, clearing his throat. “80s music, huh?”

I run my fingers through my hair, sliding the phone into my back pocket. “Yeah, I wasn’t kidding.”

After a moment, I look back up and see him staring at me, the hint of a smile in his eyes.

His gaze flashes to the side, and he bends over, picking up one of the home and garden magazines I didn’t realize had dropped from my bag at the kitchen table.

“And it’s Pike,” he says, handing me the magazine. “Not Mr. Lawson, okay?”

He’s standing so close, and my stomach flips, unable to look at him.

I take the magazine and nod, unable to meet his eyes.

He turns back to his task, and I turn to walk away but stop and look back at him.

“You don’t have to do that, you know?” I tell him, referring to the dishes. “Cole said he would.”

I see his body shake with a laugh, and then he bends down to drop some silverware into the dishwasher before glancing over at me. “I was nineteen once, too,” he replies. “‘In a bit’ means eventually, and eventually doesn’t mean tonight.”

I snort, my shoulders easing a little. True.

I don’t know how many times I woke up the next morning to a sink full of dishes. Of course, it wouldn’t make me happier with Cole if his father was carrying his weight with the chores, but I brush it off as ‘not my problem’.

As long as I don’t have to do it.

“Thank you,” I say, quickly darting over to the fridge for a bottle of water to take with me.

But then a thought occurs to me.

“Do you have any other kids?” I ask. I guess I need to know if there will be other people coming in or out of the house.

But when I look over I see his jaw tense and his brow furrowed, looking a little too serious.

“I think Cole would tell you if he had siblings, wouldn’t he?”

Against my will, my spine instantly straightens. His tone is chastising. Of course, Cole would tell me if he had siblings. I’ve known him for long enough.

“Right,” I reply in a rush, shaking my head like I was in a fog and that was why I’d asked such a dumb question.

“Besides I’ve never been married,” he adds, his Adam’s apple moving up and down. “Having multiple kids from multiple women wasn’t a mistake I wanted to keep making.”

I remain still, watching him and kind of feeling bad. Cole was completely unplanned and, even to a small degree, unwanted by his teenage parents. Some of the mystery of their poor relationship starts to come into focus.

But I also appreciate his pragmatism. It didn’t take a young Pike Lawson long to learn that making babies with just anyone wasn’t what was right for him. That was a consequence I never wanted to experience, not even once.

He seems to realize what he’d said and how it probably sounded, because he stops and looks over at me, thinning his eyes in an apology. “I didn’t mean it… like that. I—”

“I know what you meant. It’s okay.”

I jerk my thumb behind me and back away. “I’m going to go study. I’m taking a few credits this summer, so…’night.”

He turns back, loading the dishwasher with soap and starting the machine.

“Thank you again for letting us stay here,” I say.

He glances at me. “Thank you for dinner.”

And before I leave, I step over to the table where I left a scented candle burning. I should’ve asked him about that. He might not like frilly scents in his house.

Leaning over the table, I close my eyes, take in a breath, and make my usual wish Let tomorrow be better than today. And I blow, almost instantly smelling the pungent stream of smoke curling into the air from the extinguished wick.

It’s always the same wish. Every candle. Every time. I want a life I never want to take a vacation from. That’s my goal.

Except for the match I blew out at the theater. I made a different wish that night.

When I open my eyes, I see Pike watching me. He quickly straightens and turns away.

And as I leave the kitchen and head toward the stairs in the living room, I drop my magazine on the end table next to the couch.

Now someone lives here.

Pike

I blink awake, my eyelids heavy and slow as the dim room comes into view.

It’s still dark. I don’t normally wake up before five-thirty. Why am I…

No, wait. I grunt, opening my eyes a little wider and noticing the faint glow dancing across my bedroom wall.

Raindrops. Ah, shit. It’s not dark out. It’s cloudy.

I turn over onto my back and squint at the ceiling as I wait a moment and listen. And then, almost immediately, I hear it. The pitter patter of little dings bouncing off the rain gutters outside.

I let out a sigh. Goddammit. Not good. I dig my palms into my eyes and rub away the sleep before I glance at the clock on my bedside table. Five-twenty-nine.

Yep. Like clockwork.

I stopped needing an alarm clock years ago, my body just getting used to waking up at the same time every day. I still set it, though, just in case. Reaching over, I feel for the switch on the side and nudge it over two spots, turning off the alarm before it goes off.

The rain could really set us back today. I don’t need to be at the site for another hour and a half, but half the guys will probably try to call in, thinking we won’t be able to put in a full day anyway, so may as well stay in bed.

Not gonna happen, though. We’re working on something today—anything—because I don’t feel like side-stepping my kid’s bad mood and foul looks all day if I stick around this house. I’d rather be at work.

When he was younger, it was different. He was mine. We did things together and talked and he wanted to be around me, but now…

She’s gotten to him. My kid is the only hold anyone could ever have over me, and man, his mother knew how to use that. She pushed him around like a chess piece until he believed everything that came out of her mouth and that she was the victim in every situation, and I was the enemy. She could do no wrong, and I could do no right.

After a while, I just decided to be there for him. Eventually he’ll wise up, and we’ll get through this. He’ll see through her lies, and I just need to hang on. No matter the patience it’s going to take or the arguments in the meantime.

At least Jordan is pretty great. She’ll be a welcome buffer between us.

Even if I was knocked on my ass when I found out who she was.

I close my eyes, resting the back of my hand over my eyes and thinking back to that night.

I had fun hanging out with her at the movie theater. Her comebacks, her humor, how easy it was to talk to her…. The way she just relaxed next to me during the movie, and it was so fucking comfortable and natural.

The way her smile felt on me…

I wouldn’t have asked her out. She’s way too young, and I knew she had a boyfriend.

But it was hard not to entertain the idea for a little while. She’s cool.

And then when I found out who she was, I was almost angry.

I remember hearing her on that phone call and clenching my teeth so hard my jaw ached as realization hit. I was angry, because in that moment, I was jealous of my son. I was jealous of any guy who’s nineteen and gets a chance to be with her.

Her flawless skin and pert nose. Her gorgeous bottom lip that I think she caught me staring at.

The way she tipped her head back, put her feet up, and could just be next to me.

Everything felt easy.

But the girl of my dreams is off-limits. She’s Cole’s, and she’s nineteen. There’s no way.

She’s a kid, and my brief, sordid thoughts will stay hidden in my head.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I reach over and grab it, looking at the screen.

And I groan. Not now.

But I swipe the green button anyway and close my eyes, holding the phone to my ear. “A little early for you, isn’t it?”

Lindsay, my ex, laughs softly, the sultry sound of her sexy voice well-honed by now. The woman is used to getting what she wants from anyone.

Almost anyone.

“Not when you haven’t been to bed,” she taunts.

I keep my snicker to myself. Some women who become young mothers later feel as if they’ve missed out on their youth by jumping into parenthood so early. Lindsay Kenmont, mother of my child, didn’t miss a damn thing. She didn’t let being nine months pregnant hold her back any more than she let Cole hold her back when he was a toddler.

“How is he?” she asks.

I throw off my covers and sit up, swinging my legs over the bed and yawning. “Warm, fed, and safe.” I rub my hand over my scalp. “That’s about all I know right now.” But then I add, “I’m surprised you’re okay with this, by the way.”