Bastard. He probably knew I didn’t have anything lined up. Our parents talked all the time. “Not yet,” I said. “I’m still looking.”

  Nick chuckled, a low, intimate sound. “That’s partly my fault. I’ve been keeping her pretty busy.” He winked at me and then slid his hand down my back and gave my ass a squeeze.

  Oh. My. God. I didn’t know whether to say “in your face” to Brad or melt into a little puddle of lust. Shit, Nick was sexy. I wished so much that this could be real and not just a little show we were putting on.

  Brad and Stephanie both had their mouths open. Brad with shock, it looked like, but Stephanie seemed mesmerized by Nick. It was really gratifying to see her lust after my fake boyfriend when she’d taken my real one.

  “Well… I guess we should get going,” Brad said at long last. “It was nice to meet you, Sir.” He immediately reddened, and I had to choke back a laugh. Brad must have been really flustered to address Nick that way.

  “But babe, I thought we were going to get drinks,” Stephanie said, speaking to Brad but still looking at Nick.

  “I forgot, I still have some coffee left from earlier. See you guys,” Brad said, and he led Stephanie away. She looked back twice before he ushered her out the door.

  And then it was just me and the hot, handsome older man with his hand resting lightly on my ass. This was totally surreal. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew that I owed him a big thank you. He’d come to my rescue and played his part beautifully.

  Turning, I was suddenly face to face with him—except I had to look up to see him. And saw the twinkle in his eyes. My words of thanks were lost as we both stared at each other for a long moment and then dissolved into laughter.

  We didn’t stop for quite some time.

  Chapter Three

  “OH, HONEY, YOU look fantastic.”

  I smoothed down the skirt of my slinky red dress as my mom walked into my bedroom. I’d been half afraid she’d say it was too short, but then again, I was an adult. Okay, so I was staying in my parent’s house over summer break, but I was in college and could do what I wanted. Still, it was a relief that she approved. I didn’t want to upset her on her big day.

  “Your hair just looks so grown up in that up-do. And sexy,” she said, with a little laugh.

  “Mom!”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but it does. Too bad there won’t be any boys your age here tonight.”

  I groaned inwardly. In the past month since I’d been home from school, Mom had mentioned quite a few of her friends’ sons. But she never pushed too hard. I think she knew how difficult this last year had been for me. “Don’t worry about me,” I said. “This is your big night.”

  “It really is a pretty special event,” she said, coming over to stand in front of the mirror with me. She looked great, especially for a forty-three-year-old. She was wearing a blue dress that was perfect for her. Her blonde hair, a little darker—and less real—than mine hung loose around her shoulders. In contrast, mine was up in a carefully arranged “messy” bun that still allowed a lot of loose tendrils to dance around my neck. I’d done my makeup with extra care, too. Even from here, I could see the way my eyes popped with the dark mascara and dramatic eye shadow. Mom had lent me some jewelry, so my earrings and necklace sparkled. The spaghetti straps of my red dress ended in a low-cut neckline. In short, I looked like a grownup.

  Funny how I always wanted to look older and Mom always wanted to look younger. But she looked really vibrant and beautiful tonight. “I’m really happy that you and dad get to celebrate tonight.”

  “I am, too,” she said. This party was supposed to happen last year for their twentieth anniversary, but it hadn’t worked out. Mom’s father had been gravely ill in the hospital, and then my dad tripped and broke his leg. So, they’d canceled the party. It had been a really hard time. Mom practically lived at the hospital, and my grandfather passed away a few weeks later. I’d just found out about Brad and Stephanie, and I was so miserable that I wasn’t as much help to my mother as I should have been. I’d always regretted it. But now things were better for all of us.

  “Not everyone gets a lavish twenty-first anniversary party. Only the really special couples,” I told her.

  She smiled, gave me another little squeeze, and released me. I moved forward to squint at a small black fleck on my cheek, and in the mirror, I saw her sit on the bed and turn toward me. “Any luck finding a summer job?” she asked.

  I groaned as I dabbed at the little mark on my skin. Mom and I usually got along well, apart from a few years when I was in high school. Now I was no longer a rebellious teen, and I appreciated her a lot more than I used to. However, questions like that drove me nuts sometimes. “Not yet. I’m looking, but there’s not much out there.” Both parts of this were true. I’d applied for a dozen jobs, but so far, no one had even contacted me for an interview.

  “I’m sure you’ll get something soon. I told you that the supermarket is hiring, right?”

  “Yes, you did.” Twice. But surely I could find something a little more stimulating than that for the summer?

  “I just hope you can find something soon. It’s not good for you to spend so much time hanging out here or that coffee shop. You need to be with people your own age. It’s too bad St—” She froze, and I knew she’d been about to say Stephanie. We’d been so close in high school, best friends for the whole four years. We’d grown apart a little last year when we went to different universities, but I still never would have dreamed she’d go after Brad like that. Sometimes it felt as if she’d cheated on me every bit as much as he had.

  “I’ll find something soon, but in the meantime, I’m good. It’s nice to relax a little now that classes are over.”

  “I know you will, honey.” She rose and headed to the hallway. “I’m going downstairs. When you’re ready, maybe you could give me a hand with some last minute things?”

  “Sure. Be down in a minute.” After she left, I thought about what she’d said. Or almost said. It really was quiet around here. Last year, it had been the three of us, Brad, Stephanie, and me. We’d done a lot together in May and the beginning of June—before I found out that they were sleeping together. Then I pretty much retreated inward for the rest of the summer, rarely emerging from my room. No wonder my mom wanted me to get out and do things, meet people.

  In the kitchen, my dad was examining the list of guests who had RSVPed. The printout had been up on the fridge for a week, but he’d ignored it until now. “Why aren’t the Harpers on here, Gwen?”

  “They’ve been in Michigan all week, won’t get back until late tonight.” That was a relief. Mr. and Mrs. Harper were nice people, but they reminded me too much of their son, Brad. And I’d already had one reminder of him this week.

  “Mr. Conner’s coming?” Dad refused to call his coworkers by their first names in front of anyone under thirty. “Who invited him?”

  “You did, dear.” Mom was doing about ten things at once in the kitchen, even though the bulk of the food was being catered.

  “I most certainly did not.” Dad returned the list to the fridge and slapped a magnet for a local pizza parlor on top of it.

  “Rob, he’s the principal at the school where you posted an invitation in the teacher’s lounge.”

  “He’s not a teacher,” Dad grumbled, and I saw my mom roll her eyes in exasperation. When I’d attended Sago Palm High School, the principal had been a horribly inflexible woman named Mrs. Wright. But she’d left a year after I’d graduated, and Mr. Conner had arrived. According to my mother, who had always been very involved in the school and seemed to be some kind of honorary PTA member for life, everyone thought he was doing a great job. My father, however, felt otherwise.

  Mom was digging out some trays from a lower cabinet, and I went over to take them from her. “Your dad will be fine once Mr. Conner gets here,” she said in what she thought was a quiet whisper. “He just doesn’t like him because he’s younger than us.”

  “Age has nothing to do with it,” Dad said, proving that at forty-two, there was nothing wrong with his hearing. “I respect people of all ages—if they know what they’re doing. The man’s never even taught. No advanced degree in Educational Administration can make up for classroom experience. Nor being an assistant principal at that middle school. If a high school student ever had a real problem, he’d have no idea what to do.”

  “He’s not even forty yet,” Mom whispered as he straightened up. “That’s always bothered your father.” At some point, I probably should take my mom aside and explain to her that her quiet voice was not very quiet.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Dad said. “It’s just how he’s made so many changes. Stuff he probably got from some conference where a bunch of suits talk about best practices in education. Probably one in five have actually set foot in a classroom.”

  Mom straightened up, and I took the trays into the dining room where the buffet would be set up on the large dining room table. When I got back, Dad had his arms around Mom, and was murmuring in her ear. “We’ve been married twenty-one years, hon. Haven’t I earned the right to have my loving wife hate my boss?”

  “Yes, you have.” Mom stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “Principal Conner is a horrible man, and in the year he’s been there, the graduation rate has plummeted to fifteen percent, the average student reads at a second-grade level, and the entire senior class is pregnant.”

  “There, was that so hard?” Dad said with a grin. Mom returned his smile as he pulled her closer. I took a step back, intending to leave them alone, but then I paused. Seeing them there tugged at my heart a little. I loved them both, desperately, but it was more than that. They were good together. I’d always thought that, even when I was younger and they embarrassed me by being so affectionate. But now that I was older, and now that I had a failed relationship under my belt, I realized how rare that was. How special.

  * * *

  “Hi, thanks for coming,” I said for the billionth time. “You can put your presents on the table. And please, help yourself to a drink.” My dad was playing bartender, definitely in his element. Not that he knew a ton about mixing drinks, but he loved making small talk and catching up with friends and coworkers. Despite his prickly attitude earlier.

  There were at least twenty people here already, and I could see more cars driving up and down the street, looking for a place to park. We had lots of room, though. The living room was spacious, and a half dozen women were in the kitchen “helping” my mother though it looked to me like all they were really doing was gossiping and drinking. And then there was a huge deck out back that spanned the entire length of the back of the house then continued around one side. It was a little warm back there, but nice nonetheless. Florida backyards were usually pleasant places if you put the work into keeping the plants trimmed back as my parents did. Otherwise, a small row of plants one year would spread over half the yard the next.

  When most everyone was there, my parents welcomed everyone. Their best man from their wedding made a toast, and several other people spoke. Mom’s best friend spoke about how much she admired my parents’ marriage, and then she called on me. “Perhaps Gwen and Robert’s lovely daughter could say a few words?”

  Mom looked at me, her eyes shining, but I smiled and shook my head. Still, since all eyes were on me, I moved away from my position by the door and walked toward them. “I’ve got something prepared—but it’s for after dinner.”

  Mom hugged me. “She’s been working on whatever it is for over a month,” she told her guests. “Please, can we see it now, honey?”

  “Nope. You’ll just have to wait a bit long—” and then my breath caught in my throat. The front door had just opened, and a man had walked in. A tall man, with tousled brown hair and riveting hazel eyes that sparkled even at this distance. A man I’d last seen a few days ago. He was here, at my parent’s anniversary party. In our house.

  A few people called out greetings, but I just stared at him in shock. What was he doing here? He was holding a small present wrapped in silver paper which he deposited on the table by the door. When he moved into the living room, I could tell the exact moment he saw me, because he stopped dead, freezing mid step.

  Mom put her arm around me as she called out to him. “Nick, come on in. You’re just in time—we’re about to eat. Make yourself at home.”

  Nick. As in Nick Conner, the new principal of Sago Palm High School.

  Holy crap. The devastatingly hot stranger from the other day was my dad’s boss.

  Chapter Four

  I STOOD ON the wrap-around deck, out of sight of the guests, wondering if he’d follow me out here. If he didn’t, then I didn’t have anything to worry about. Perhaps he didn’t even think our earlier meeting was worthy of mention. But somehow I hoped that wasn’t the case. Even if all we said was that it would be best to ignore what happened in the coffeehouse, I still hoped to talk to him in private. So I waited, sipping my drink and watching the sunset.

  Finally, I heard footsteps behind me, turning the corner from the main part of the deck behind the house. Too late, I realized that he—or whoever this was—would see my backside first, since I was leaning over the railing, looking out. But maybe that was okay. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel his large, strong hand on my ass, caressing, squeezing. That one touch had been hotter than any I’d received in months of dating.

  I could feel eyes on my back, so I straightened and turned. It was him. Seeing him up close made my heart skip a beat. He was even better-looking than I remembered, especially now that he was dressed up. He wore a black suit coat over a crisp white button-down shirt that was open at the collar. He had on black jeans and boots, not dress shoes. Except for the boots, he was dressed like half the men here tonight, but on him, it was sexy. And hot as hell.

  He was holding a long-neck beer, and there was a gleam in his blue eyes as he raised it, gesturing toward my glass. “Let me guess,” he said. “Thin Mint Frappuccino.”

  I laughed, but part of me was absurdly pleased that he’d remembered. Raising my glass up the same way he did, I smiled and then took a sip. “White wine,” I said. “My parents said I could have one glass.”

  Then I groaned inwardly. Why had I mentioned my parents? In one sentence, I’d managed to make myself sound like a complete baby—too young to drink and talking about mommy and daddy.

  He smiled, but it looked like he was little uncomfortable at my mentioning them, too. How stupid of me.

  “So… you used to be a Sago Palm student?” He tilted his head at me in a way I couldn’t quite interpret.

  “Yep. And you’re the principal now. I gotta say, you’re a definite improvement over old Mrs. Wrong.” Yes, her name had been Mrs. Wright, but that’s not what students had called her. They’d had a lot of creative names for her. ‘Mrs. Wrong’ was the least offensive.

  “How do you know? I can’t imagine you’ve gotten glowing reviews from your father.”

  So he knew how my dad felt about him. Interesting. It hadn’t stopped him from coming here or treating my father like a valued employee tonight. He’d brought a gift and been a gracious guest.

  “Well, first off, anyone would be. But secondly, I just have a hunch.”

  “Well, I’d like to think that your hunch is correct. But it’s been a bit of a tough year. How was your first year at the university?”

  “Second,” I said. “I’ll be a junior this fall.”

  “That makes me feel a little better,” he said, almost under his breath.

  “About what?” I took a step closer to him, suddenly curious about why he was avoiding my gaze.

  “About that day at the coffee shop.”

  “But we didn’t do anything. Just a little flirting.” Mostly.

  Now he did look up at me, leaning back against the rail and folding his arms across his broad chest. “I don’t make it a habit of flirting with young women just a few years older than the students at my high school.”

  “I’m not usually much of a flirt, either. But you helped me out when Brad showed up. A lot. What’s wrong with that?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me and broke into a crooked grin. “How about the part where I grabbed your ass?”

  Oh. I felt my face flush. “Well, it made the act more convincing.”

  He continued to grin but glanced around, as if to reassure himself that we weren’t within earshot of anyone else. “Yes, it did. But since that time… I’ve found myself thinking about it more than once. Remembering how… convincing it was. And I wouldn’t have done that if I’d known you were Robert’s daughter.”

  My breath caught. I’d thought about him every night—hell, practically every hour—since then. Had he really been thinking about me, too? That idea filled me with warm shivers. It was rather ballsy of him to admit it, though. I admired him for that. The guys I’d tried to date in the past year had been so timid. Not about some things; they were all too happy to try to kiss me or feel me up. But that was all the initiative they showed. None had taken me on an interesting date. None had engaged me in witty, flirty banter like the men I read about in the steamy romance e-books I devoured. None had been real men like the one standing in front of me.

  If he could be straightforward, then so could I. “Maybe it’s good you didn’t know, then.”

  His other eyebrow rose up to join the first. “Aren’t you supposed to be pissed that I was having less than pure thoughts about you?”

  “If I were, it would be pretty hypocritical of me.”

  “Why’s that?” His voice was low and husky, or maybe it was just my hormones interpreting it that way. But he’d taken another step toward me. That couldn’t be my imagination. And when he moved still closer, I set my glass on the rail behind me, my heart rate tripling.