I blink. “Maddox?”

  “Tiny-ass bed,” he grumbles from below the edge of the mattress.

  I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” He places a palm on the mattress and pushes himself up.

  When he starts to climb back into bed, I shake my head. The lamp is still on, but I can tell the room is lighter than it was.

  “You need to go. I don’t want Chelsea seeing you here.” Then I do laugh. “I can’t believe you thought she was yours.”

  Standing, Maddox puts his hands on his hips and stretches out his back. “Well, can you blame me?”

  “She’s only twelve.” I snort. “If she was yours, I would’ve had like an…” I give up on the math. “Eighteen-month pregnancy.” I shudder.

  He hums, then asks, “When did she come to live with you?”

  “It was just before she turned two. Her mom, my cousin, passed away from an infection, and her dad was never in the picture, so she was left in our custody.”

  “And your dad,” Maddox asks, meeting me next to my bedroom door.

  My lips pull into a soft smile. “Really want to get all the details squared away, huh?”

  Maddox nods.

  “My dad died when I was one. Fell and hit his head, and it all went perfectly wrong. I don’t remember him, but Mom still has photos of him around the house, so I feel like I do.”

  “That fucking sucks, I’m sorry.”

  “The curse sucks.”

  Maddox gives a slow shake of his head. “This is one of those laugh or cry things, isn’t it?”

  “A classic case.” I smile.

  Of course, I’d love it if my dad and cousin were still around, but you can’t change the past.

  “So, it’s just the three of you, then?” he asks.

  “Yep. Just us girls.”

  “Seems like you and your mom did right by your cousin.” Maddox dips his chin. “Chelsea is a good kid.”

  His words fill me with familial pride. “Thank you.”

  Stepping past him, I reach for the door handle.

  “Do you want more?”

  I pause and turn back to face him. “More…?”

  “Kids,” he clarifies.

  Kids. He says it just like that. Like it’s a perfectly reasonable question. Like we’ve been dating for years and are considering marriage, and it’s time to talk about kids.

  And then I register what he didn’t say.

  It was just Do you want more? End of question. Not Do you want more of your own or Do you want to have your own kids.

  Affection for Maddox rocks through me.

  I’ve always been Aunt Hannah to Chelsea. She’s always been my niece. It’s who we are to each other. But she’s mine, just like I’m hers. And I don’t need her to call me mom in order to feel like the parental figure I know I am.

  I wet my lips and decide that the truth is the best answer. “Honestly, I don’t think I do. I already have the perfect child in my life. And her life is only going to get busier, so it’s not like she’ll suddenly need me any less. Plus, I got to skip the no sleep infant stuff while experiencing everything else. So, I think I’m good.”

  The side of his mouth pulls up. “I think you’re good too.”

  “What about you?” I ask quietly, needing the answer even though I’m a little afraid of what it might be.

  His mouth stays in that half smile. “Never really felt comfortable around little babies. But I seem to have a thing for hot aunts.”

  FIFTY-TWO

  MADDOX

  Standing here, looking at Hannah, I feel more at peace than I have in a long time.

  It’s that feeling you get when you think you lost something important, and so much time has passed that you figured you’d never have it again, but then you find it. You dig through some drawer you haven’t used in years, and there it is. And the memory hits you with a familiar comfort.

  “I want to kiss you,” I tell Hannah, needing her to know.

  Her eyes lower to my lips.

  But when I lean down, she presses her palms into my chest. “Maddox…”

  “Yeah, Bunny?” I keep my voice low.

  “We shouldn’t.”

  It’s a lie.

  We absolutely should.

  But I’ll let her have her win in this moment.

  “Alright.” I stand up straight, and it takes Hannah a long second before she lowers her hands from my chest. “Walk me out.”

  I savor the way her fingertips trace a trail down my stomach before she lets her hands fall completely away and turns to the door.

  I didn’t miss the way her tits look in that fucking shirt. The way the material is clinging to the swells of her breasts. Or the way her damn nipples are still begging for attention.

  But I was here for serious reasons, so I kept my eyes on her face, even though it killed me.

  Now, as I follow Hannah through the house, I don’t bother being subtle as I stare at her ass, watching her hips move with each step.

  And then there’s knowing about the sweetness that lives between her thighs.

  It’s been just over twenty-four hours since I had my hands on her pussy. But it’s been fifteen years since I had my mouth on her there, and we need to change that soon.

  Hannah slows, reaching the front door.

  I slide my feet into my unlaced tennis shoes and step through the doorway, stopping on the other side of the threshold and turning to face Hannah.

  Dawn is breaking behind me, covering her features in the softest glow. And her eyes…

  She looks the way I feel.

  “Maddox,” she whispers. “I want to kiss you.”

  I lean down, just a little. “We should.”

  Hannah shifts onto her toes, and I bend the rest of the way to meet her.

  Our lips connect with a gentle brush, feeling like not enough and yet the perfect amount.

  I lift my hand and gently circle my fingers around the front of her neck.

  Her skin is so soft and warm beneath my calloused palm.

  The perfect smooth to my rough.

  I want to deepen the kiss.

  Want to hold her tighter.

  My body is ready for more. But I’m not positive Hannah’s is.

  Not yet.

  I slide my hand off her neck and pull my mouth back from hers.

  Hannah’s cheeks are flushed, and her chest rises with quick breaths.

  “Good night, Utley.”

  She glances past me toward the sunrise. “Morning, Lovelace.”

  I take a step back. “Lock your door.”

  “I know how to take care of myself,” she tells me, one hand on the door.

  “I know you do, Babe. But let me do some of that caring too.”

  FIFTY-THREE

  HANNAH

  I shut and lock the door, then watch through the peephole as Maddox walks to his car.

  Let me do some of that caring too.

  My forehead drops to the door.

  Being with him — around him — it’s just so goddamn easy.

  It shouldn’t be. Not after all this time.

  I let my anger toward him cloud my happiness for so long.

  It felt like it was a part of me. That bitterness. And I thought I’d have it forever.

  But it’s gone.

  Just like that, it’s gone.

  I don’t want to be angry anymore. I don’t want to be hurt.

  I don’t want to put caution before passion.

  I don’t want any of that.

  I just want Maddox.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  MADDOX

  I’m lingering.

  I know I am, and it’s starting to feel obvious, but I want to see her. And I don’t want to do it by barging into her office first thing on a Monday morning.

  There’s no reason I can’t change the company rules and lift the no-fraternizing policy, but I’m almost certain Hannah wouldn’t like that. And the last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable at work.

  I add another packet of sugar to my coffee mug and stir it with the same spoon I’ve been using for the last ten minutes.

  As certain as I am that Hannah wouldn’t want to be that girl dating the boss, I’m also just as certain that she wants to date me too.

  I almost snort.

  Dating is such a lame word for what I want from Hannah.

  I want more than the occasional dinner out and texts in the evening.

  I want everything.

  Lifting my mug, I lean against the counter in the break room and take a sip of my coffee while I pretend to read an email on my phone.

  When I got home early yesterday morning, after spending a handful of hours sleeping in Hannah’s tiny-ass bed with my body wrapped around hers, it hit me.

  I don’t want to wait.

  I don’t want to wait to tell her how much she means to me. How much she’s always meant to me.

  I don’t want to wait years before I ask her to move in with me.

  I don’t want to wait at all.

  We already lost so much time together. And if I think on it too much, I might just lose my mind. Or I might hire that guy Waller knows to go burn Essie’s house down.

  I take another sip of my coffee.

  I’m not going to dwell on the past anymore.

  It happened. It’s over. And now —

  The break room door opens, and my brown-eyed beauty walks in.

  My lips curl up into a smile, but I stay exactly where I am.

  Hannah is a whole new person now, just like I am. She’s lived a life’s worth of experiences, just like I have.

  Our lives were so different.

  Mine was on the road, playing ball professionally. The glamour, physical pain, money, fame. Never knowing who wants to be close to you for you or who is just inching closer to try and hitch a ride in your wagon.

  Hers was here. So close to me, but completely out of reach. She lost people, gained a ward, then knit her family so closely around her she was never alone. The love in her home is palpable. And I want my house filled with that. I want to feel that warmth when I step through the front door.

  “Morning.” Her cheeks are already turning pink, and I hope she’s thinking about my lips on hers.

  “Good morning,” I greet her in return.

  An older guy, who I think works in billing, is sitting at one of the long tables in the room, and he lifts his eyes from his phone just long enough to say hello to Hannah.

  In the week we’ve been in this new office space, I swear I’ve seen that man come in early every day just to sit in here and eat a pair of donuts. He’s wearing a wedding ring, and I have to assume either his wife won’t let him eat donuts at home or he doesn’t like being at home.

  Won’t be me.

  I push off the counter and take the few steps to the coffee maker.

  Hannah darts a glance my way as she bends to put a container of food into the fridge.

  “What’d you bring for lunch?” My tone is casual, but it still has her biting her lip.

  She straightens and closes the door. “Just some leftover Chinese takeout.”

  I nod. “Sounds good.”

  She narrows her eyes the smallest amount as she comes closer to where I am. “Do you bring your own lunch? Or are you too fancy for that?”

  “Fancy?” I grin. “I’m not too fancy. I’m just lazy. Which is why I spend half my paycheck on delivery fees.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Pretty sure you’d have to be ordering barrels of caviar for that to be true.”

  “Nah, the barrels make it taste funny.”

  She lets out a little laugh. “Just ham and cheese sandwiches, then.”

  I keep my eyes on hers, not missing the way she mentioned it so lightly. “Best tasting thing there is. With maybe one exception.”

  Hannah’s gaze drops to my lips.

  That’s right, Babe. When I say taste, you look at my mouth.

  Clearing my throat, I reach up and open the mug cupboard for her.

  We’re a clean energy company, so everything we have is reusable, and some chucklehead thought it would be great to have nothing but bright yellow dishes and mugs. Some have our logo, some are secondhand, some are handmade, but they all have yellow on them.

  Hannah wiggles her fingers as she selects her mug for the day, choosing a ceramic one covered in vibrant shades of yellow that was definitely made by hand.

  I’m not surprised that’s the one she chose.

  Donut Man is paying us no attention, so I stay where I am and watch Hannah make her coffee.

  She fills her mug, leaving about an inch of space, then holds the pot up toward me. “Need a top off?”

  I dip my chin and hold my MinneSolar branded mug out to her.

  She looks at it, seeing that it’s already full, but still tips the pot and adds a splash.

  Hannah glances back at my mug as she puts the pot on the burner. “Plain black?”

  I lift my coffee and smirk at her over the rim. “Four sugars.”

  Her brows jump up at my admission.

  “Is there something wrong with that, Miss Utley?”

  “Of course not, Mr. Lovelace. It’s just with the whole athlete thing…” Her eyes travel down my body. Before they move back up, I pull my shoulders back just enough to make my chest look bigger. “I figured you more for a no sugar type.”

  “Back in my playing days, that was mostly true. But that’s the nice thing about being retired. I can eat whatever I want now.”

  She hums and moves to the fridge to take out a short carton of half-and-half, then uses it to gesture around the room. “I’m not sure you understand what retired means.”

  “Yeah, well, golf was never my thing. Plus, my buddy and I have a bet going on whose company can get more awards each year.”

  “Awards?” Hannah removes the cap from her little carton and pours about a third of an inch worth into her mug.

  “No specific award, just achievements in general. Top fifty lists, that sort of thing,” I tell her, referring to my never-ending cycle of bets with Waller.

  Hannah returns the carton to the fridge, then looks at the drawer I’m standing in front of.

  I know what she wants, but instead of moving so she can get a clean spoon, I take the one from my mug.

  Another glance shows that we’re still alone with Donut Man, who is focused on his donuts, so I put the spoon in my mouth.

  I close my lips around it and pull it free before I hold it out for Hannah to take.

  She darts her eyes around the room, but seeing the same thing I do, she takes it and puts it into her mug.

  And that’s when the door to the break room opens.

  Hannah shifts, like she’s going to jump away from me, reminding me of after the car accident.

  “Don’t react.” I say it so only she can hear me.

  I don’t know who walked in, but nothing we’re doing right now is inappropriate. We might be standing a little closer than total strangers would, but I’m friendly with everyone.

  I turn my head, finding Brandon walking across the room.

  Okay, so maybe I’m not friendly with everyone.

  “Morning.” I nod to the man because I’m still civil.

  He nods back, then looks at Hannah. “Morning. Did you have a good weekend?”

  “Really good,” she answers without hesitating.

  I lift my coffee and take another drink, covering my smile.

  “Uh, that’s nice,” Brandon replies like the dumbass he is. “Mine was good too.”

  Too bad no one asked you.

  He goes to the fridge and takes a tall can out of the door.

  I almost roll my eyes. What sort of grown-ass man has a cotton candy flavored energy drink to start his day?

  “Heading out?” I hold up my arm for Hannah as though she was waiting for me to leave, and I’m insisting she goes first.

  She nods. “Yeah, best get to work.”

  As we walk across the room, Donut Man finally stands. “Welp, if the boss is getting after it, then I should too.”

  I feel a slight alarm at him paying attention to what’s going on around him. But something tells me that even if he knew the entirety of my history with Hannah, he still wouldn’t tell anyone.

  FIFTY-FIVE

  HANNAH

  I’m shoving open my office door, ready to toss my armful of things onto my desk, when I freeze.

  Because sitting on said desk is a mug of coffee.

  The same mug I used yesterday, filled nearly to the brim with the perfect shade of coffee.

  Warmth fills my chest.

  Maddox.

  Seeing him yesterday morning in the break room wasn’t enough.

  I need more of him.

  The damn man is such a pleasure to be around that I miss him anytime he’s not in the same room as me. Which is almost always.

  Wanting the moment to myself, I step the rest of the way into my office and use my foot to push the door shut.

  After I set my things down, I pick up the coffee.

  It’s still steaming but not so hot I can’t try it. And the first sip confirms what I already assumed. It’s perfect.

  I want to return the favor. Or at least tell Maddox thank you. But there’s no way for me to do that.

  Sure, I could walk to his office. But I have no legitimate reason to be there. And walking through the whole office carrying a coffee for Maddox would be like slapping a neon sign on my back saying I’m flirting with the boss. And I certainly couldn’t say I’m bringing him a coffee because he made me a coffee.

  I have no idea how Maddox got this to my office without anyone seeing, but I’m sure he did.

  I could always email Maddox to say thanks. But I’ve taken those stupid mandatory training courses, so I know all company emails are saved somewhere, and I don’t need anyone intercepting nonwork emails between me and the owner of the company.

  Maddox might have an office phone number I could find. But what if someone other than him answers? And if someone else answers, they can probably see who’s calling, so I couldn’t just hang up.