What would happen if he got with Zoe for real? Even if everyone accepted it… if it didn’t work out, if their relationship hit the rocks or went down in flames…

  Arthur and Han cared about him. Deeply. But at the end of the day, faced with the decision, they’d choose their flesh and blood over some stray they’d taken in.

  Acting on his attraction to Zoe was a nonstarter. It couldn’t happen.

  So why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?

  Even a couple of days later, he could feel her skin, smell the sweet scent of her wrapping around him and turning him inside out. In the driveway of the Leung house—right where he and Han used to hang out when they were kids, when Zoe was literally a kid—he’d been inches from kissing her. The moment they’d shared kept playing in his head on repeat, and all he could think was, what if those lights hadn’t gone on? What if Zoe and Han’s mom hadn’t caught him ready to claim those soft, rose-colored lips?

  When would he have stopped?

  How much would he have risked?

  He shook his head. Fury burned in his chest, almost as hot as his arousal whenever he let his mind drift back to that almost-kiss. He was an idiot to be even thinking about it, much less actively imagining it.

  So why was he torturing himself like this?

  And why was Arthur just sitting there instead of trying to get him to talk?

  “Okay, fine,” he exploded. He glared at Arthur. Patient bastard had always been good at waiting him out until he finally told on himself. “Let’s say there is a particular lady in question.”

  Arthur set aside the inventory sheet he’d been working on and gave Devin his full attention. “Okay.”

  “But it’s a terrible idea.”

  “Most love usually is,” Arthur said with a sly smile.

  Devin shook his head, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Like, natural disaster kind of terrible.”

  Arthur just raised his brows.

  “Okay, fine, maybe not that bad, but bad. It would cause big problems.”

  “What sort of problems are we talking about? Legal trouble?”

  “No.” Though a half dozen years ago, it would have.

  “Work trouble?”

  “No.”

  “Then…?”

  Devin cast about for a second before landing on “Her family.”

  Of which Arthur was a member. This was so messed up.

  “I can’t believe they wouldn’t approve of you.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.” Devin raked a hand through his hair. “But they’d have good reason to think it’s a bad idea.”

  The Leungs had welcomed Devin with open arms. Here at Harvest Home, Arthur had taken Devin under his wing. As Han’s best friend, Devin had free run of the Leung house. Sleepovers, afternoon hangouts. They trusted him.

  Han trusted him. Han, who was so obsessed with keeping his family safe and secure. He’d always been protective of his baby sister. How many times had he confided in Devin about wanting to basically go check Zoe into a convent?

  Devin hadn’t been lusting after Zoe that entire time, but his attraction to her had grown and grown, from the spark he first felt at her high school graduation to this inferno now. The other night, first at Harvest Home and then later at the bar, he’d kept losing sight of who she was. She stopped being his best friend’s sister or Arthur’s niece. She’d become just… Zoe. Gorgeous, easy-to-talk-to, smart, funny, empathetic Zoe.

  While Devin’s thoughts spun out, Arthur kept regarding him with that steady, patient gaze of his. Finally, he sat back and exhaled long and low.

  “Have I ever told you the story of how I ended up here?”

  Only about a million times.

  Devin managed not to thunk his head against the table. “Yeah.”

  “All of it?”

  “I don’t know,” Devin said carefully.

  “My family, when we came over, we started in San Francisco.”

  “Right.”

  “Moved to New York from there. It was crowded. Dirty. We worked hard, lived in a tiny apartment. Huilang and David and me with our parents.” Huilang being Han, Lian, and Zoe’s mom, and David their distant uncle.

  “Okay…”

  “I was the one who decided to set out and go somewhere else. Not an easy decision.”

  “I’m sure.” There was no stopping Arthur now, so Devin strapped in for the ride.

  “My father. He told me it would be big trouble if I left.”

  Devin perked up. This was a part of the story he hadn’t heard before. “Really?”

  Arthur nodded. “He had so many reasons it wouldn’t work. He thought I was betraying the family by leaving them behind.” He smiled, knowing and maybe just a little smug. “But I knew. There were more reasons to go. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I was right.” He waved a hand around. “Look what I’ve been able to accomplish. I had a great career.” He had, starting the Jade Garden restaurant. Socking away cash and making a whole series of unlikely investments that had enabled him to open this place and grow it year after year. “Brought my sister and her husband down here with me, and they’ve had happy lives. We all have.”

  “Okay…”

  Arthur fixed him with a gaze like he could see right through Devin. Could he? Did he know more than he was letting on?

  If he did, he kept it to himself. “You can’t let fear push you around. Worrying about what other people will think, what other people will do. It leaves you miserable. This girl—if she means enough to you, you go to her. You find a way to make it work. No matter what anybody else says, you hear me?”

  For a split second, Devin considered it. He let go of all his concerns about Han and Arthur and Zoe’s mom.

  He let himself imagine going for it. Being with Zoe. Having her in his arms, talking to her the way he had the other night. Celebrating a great game of pool with a kiss.

  Taking her to his bed.

  A jolt of electricity zipped down his spine.

  Yeah. He wanted that. All of it.

  But before he could really talk himself into believing he could have it, a deep voice broke in.

  “Wait—Devin’s got a girl?”

  All the hope that had started to rise in Devin’s chest came crashing down. He turned to find Han in the doorway.

  Right. Crap. It was Tuesday. Han or his mom or both—they always came by in the late afternoon.

  Stupid. How could he have forgotten? How could he have asked Arthur of all people about Zoe—even in the most veiled of terms?

  How could he have imagined this could work?

  He forced out a laugh, but it was hollow to his own ears. “Nah, man. Me and Arthur—we were just talking.”

  Devin stood up, anxious, restless energy making it impossible to sit.

  “Really?” Han asked, setting down a crate of leftover produce from the restaurant before wiping his brow. “Because it sounded like—”

  Mercifully, Arthur stepped in to save him. “Your friend. He was talking in”—he cleared his throat—“hypotheticals.”

  Devin directed an appreciative glance his way. Leave it to Arthur to make Devin sound innocent without telling a single untruth.

  But Han wasn’t going to be deterred. “I don’t know, man.” He sized Devin up. “You have been a little weird lately.”

  “Work stuff.” That wasn’t an untruth, either. Taking over as shift leader had been great, but it had come with all the headaches he’d assumed it would.

  Namely managing Bryce Horton.

  But he wasn’t here to complain about Bryce. Especially when Han was still regarding Devin with suspicion, and Devin was trying not to sweat.

  Finally, Han gave him a playful shove on his shoulder. “Well, whoever the hypothetical girl is, I hope you win her over. Your dry spell has been going on for way too long.”

  “Like you’re one to talk.”

  Han’s gaze darkened. The fact he hadn’t had a serious long-term relationship since he and May broke up after high school was a sore spot, and Devin had aimed right for it. “Whatever. Keep your secrets.”

  “No secrets to tell.” And he was going to make sure it stayed that way. Needing some air after that close call, he grabbed a stack of inventory forms they’d already gotten through. “Gotta hit the head. I’ll swing these by the front office.”

  “Thanks,” Arthur said.

  Han got to work. Relieved there wasn’t going to be any more third degree, Devin headed out.

  He had an ulterior motive for swinging past the office anyway.

  The second Zoe came into view, his heart did something funny in his chest. She looked as beautiful as ever. She had when he’d first arrived, too.

  She’d avoided his gaze in a way that was new, though. There’d been no flirty banter. She hadn’t gotten in his space. She definitely hadn’t come close enough for him to slip up and almost kiss her, and that was a good thing.

  So why did it feel so awful?

  Arthur hadn’t known all the facts, so his advice hadn’t been right, but there was one area where he’d been on the nose. Zoe did mean something to Devin. That meant he had to make this work between them. Not the kissing part, but the rest of it. He’d really started to think they were becoming friends. He wanted her, sure, but he also just plain liked her.

  If almost kissing her meant losing her smiles and the way she looked at him and talked to him, then he’d screwed up worse than he’d realized. He had to make it right. Fast, before he messed this up for good.

  He walked right up to the desk and put the inventory sheets in the bin. She glanced up at him. Her eyes sparkled for a second before darkening. Glowering, she looked away.

  No smile. No “hello,” even.

  Guilt churned in his gut. She really was mad, and she had every right to be.

  “You have a minute?” he asked. He couldn’t keep the urgency out of his tone.

  “Nope.”

  “Come on, Zo.” He reached for her hand, only for her to snap it away.

  “Uh-uh. No way.” She darted her gaze around, but they were definitely alone out here. She still lowered her voice. “You of all people do not get to do what you almost did on Sunday night and then ‘Zo’ me.”

  Anger flashed in her gaze, only it was more than that.

  She was trying to hide it, but she was hurt.

  Was it possible to feel even worse?

  “Just hear me out,” he begged.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Fine.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared up at him, fire and defiance in her gaze, and that really shouldn’t get him feeling hot under the collar, but it did.

  He didn’t care that she’d just verified that they were alone. He did the same thing she had, glancing around, but he couldn’t talk to her like this, one eye constantly looking over his shoulder.

  “Come on.”

  He tipped his head toward the spare office behind the desk. Keeping her feet planted, she cocked a brow at him, and he shot a glance skyward before holding out a hand. “Please?”

  With a gruff sigh, she rolled her eyes but then consented to follow him. Once they were both inside, he closed the door and flipped the lock.

  He turned to look at her. Her posture was still closed and defensive, and he hated that. But what could he do? How could he get them back to the place they’d been the other night—all smiles and quiet confidences—without going too far?

  “Look, Zoe.” He was making this up as he went along, barreling ahead without a plan. “I’m sorry. Really.”

  “For what?” She tipped her chin up, the stubborn set to her jaw driving him to distraction. She started counting things off on her fingers. “For almost kissing me? Because if so, screw you. Or for jumping away from me like I’m a leper? Because if so, also screw you.” She started advancing on him, her voice rising. “Or for treating me like a freaking child, the way everybody in my life does?” She was right in his space again, her eyes on fire. “Because if so”—she reached out and jabbed him in the chest—“screw”—she did it again—“you.”

  He grabbed her by the hand, and oh no. This was too much like the other night. She’d been swatting at him for his teasing then. She was righteously angry now. Guilt churned in his stomach, but his skin was prickling, her hand warm in his. He stroked his thumb over her palm, holding on even though he should let her go.

  He should walk right out of this office. Out of this building and maybe off a short pier, but her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and her soft red lips so wet and kissable, he was losing his mind.

  “I can’t,” he said. “Your brother—”

  “Isn’t my keeper.” She went softer against him, some of the anger fading out of her.

  And it was like he couldn’t stop himself.

  He drifted closer to her, erasing the gap between them, licks of flame darting across his skin. “I don’t want to be a bad guy.”

  He didn’t want to take advantage. He didn’t want to mess things up between them and lose the fragile friendship they’d been building—the one that had already come to mean so much to him.

  What could they even have together besides friendship? Her time here in Blue Cedar Falls was clearly a stopgap. She was on her way to bigger and better things. His biggest goal in life was a house in the woods alone. If they crossed this line, it would change things forever. With her. With her family.

  Keeper or not, he didn’t want to violate Han’s trust.

  She gazed up into his eyes. The liquid brown of her irises melted something inside him. Reaching up, she grazed her fingertips across his cheek.

  “You’re not a bad guy, Devin.” Her hand settled tentatively on the side of his neck, and the intimacy of it was almost too much. “I’ve been back home for months, and I swear you’re the first person who’s made me feel like you’re actually listening to me. You care. A lot.” She shook her head gently. “Bad guys don’t do that.”

  He swallowed, scarcely able to think with her so close. Without his permission, his arm moved to wrap around her, and that felt so good. She was practically flush against him, warm and soft and smelling like heaven.

  All his resolutions went up in smoke.

  “This is a terrible idea,” he rasped.

  “Probably.”

  Then she rose onto her toes.

  He was going to hell, because he met her halfway. Their mouths crashed together, and that was it. Something snapped inside him. Hauling her in against him, he let himself really feel her. Light exploded behind his eyes. Forget all his worries about the fact that she used to be a kid to him—Zoe Leung was all woman now. Her soft curves fit to his body like they were made to press together. She kissed like the spitfire she was, opening to him, nipping at his lips with her teeth, sucking on his tongue.

  Groaning, he picked her up and sat her on the edge of the desk. This whole place was a disaster—the place they put stuff when they didn’t know where it should go. Something clattered to the floor, but he didn’t care. With a hand at the back of his neck, she reeled him in, and he went so happily. He lost his mind to the heat of her mouth, the warmth of her hips in his hands. Scooting backward on the desk, she folded her legs around him.

  Alarm bells went off in his head.

  What was he doing?

  He tore himself away, only for her to drag him back in.

  “Zoe,” he gasped, kissing her again, but he had to stop.

  She raked her nails through his scalp. “If you say one word about my stupid brother, I swear—”

  “No.” He laughed. “Just no.”

  But as he drew away, the kiss-bitten redness of her lips, her tousled hair, and her flushed cheeks told him the truth. They’d crossed a line. He knew how she tasted now, how perfectly she fit in his arms.

  There was no going back.

  But he wasn’t a complete idiot.

  “My place,” he panted. “Not here.”

  She hooked her ankles behind his rear and pulled him in, and he saw stars.

  He pulled away again and fixed her with a gaze that brooked no argument. “Not here.”

  She pouted, breathing hard, but she released him. He stepped away, and she hopped down off the table.

  “Fine,” she relented. She narrowed her eyes at him, but her voice shook. “No take-backs, though, okay?” She reached up to tap him on the head. “Don’t overthink this.”

  Yeah. Like that was going to happen.

  He grabbed her hand again. But instead of brushing her away, he held her gaze and brought the back of her palm to his mouth.

  “No take-backs.” He kissed the soft skin of her knuckles.

  And seriously. He was going to hell.

  But if the smoldering look in her eyes was any indication?

  It was going to be worth the ride.

  Chapter Eight

  Nervous anticipation and wary disbelief warred in Zoe’s gut as she pulled up to Devin’s building an hour later. Staying at Harvest Home and finishing the tasks she usually enjoyed had been pure torture—especially when Devin had slipped out. The dark look he’d given her on his way to the door had made her clench down deep inside.

  But he’d been hot and cold over the past few days, to say nothing of the past few years. She had no idea what she was walking into here.

  Still half expecting him to have changed his mind again, she got out of the car and headed up the walk. Bubbles formed and popped inside her chest. She was trying to keep her expectations in check, but his kiss had set her on fire. An hour of waiting had only stoked the flame. By the time she hit the top of the stairs, she was a riot of desire and nerves—if he turned her away after all that, she really was going to deck him. She reached the apartment number he’d given her, lifted her hand, and curled it into a fist. She took a deep breath, then steeled up her nerve and knocked.

  The door swung open instantly.

  Behind it stood Devin, and Zoe’s stomach did a loop-the-loop.

  Good grief, he was gorgeous. His sandy-brown hair was all mussed, exactly the way she wanted it to be after she’d been raking her hands through it all night. If it was possible, his jaw was sharper, the scruff there even more masculine. He stood there in a T-shirt and jeans, his feet bare on the hardwood.