“I’m with you.” I wish my voice didn’t tremble when I said it.

  “You can fill me in on how it goes tonight.”

  We say goodbye and disconnect the phone, and I wrap my arms around my waist a moment. Piper’s face appears in the window, and when she sees I’m off the phone, she steps outside.

  “Did you two get your stories straight?”

  I’ve never lied to my friends, and I’m not sure how good of an actress I can be.

  Straightening my shoulders, I channel Idina Menzel, who played Elphaba in Wicked on Broadway… and Elsa in Frozen.

  I push back my hair and smile. “Alex and I are engaged.”

  “What?” Piper’s voice goes so high, if Edward were here, he’d howl. “It happened at the wedding reception, didn’t it? I knew you weren’t just talking in his office. And what’s this nanny thing? A cover?”

  “Shh!” I put my hand up in front of her mouth. “We haven’t told Pinky. We don’t want her to be hurt if anything… changes.”

  It comes out so smoothly, I’m clearly a natural-born liar.

  “What the hell would change? Alex is hot as fuck, and while I wouldn’t have immediately put the two of you together, it makes perfect sense if you think about it.”

  “It does?” I’m desperate to hear more.

  “Of course! He’s so serious and professional and working all the time, and you’re…” My eyes narrow, and she links our arms. “You’re easygoing and fun and empathetic and hot. I’m glad to know he’s not blind. Plus you’re great with kids. When did this happen? While you were planning the wedding? Did you catch wedding fever?”

  I’m not a fan of the comparison chart she just drew, and I’m onto her not-so-smooth redirection. But I can’t argue. I am a mess.

  “Sort of.” I try to imagine how we might’ve decided to get married in a month. “We just sort of hit it off, and when he gave me the ring it was more of a promise of something more.”

  She clasps her hands, blinking happily. “That’s so adorably old-fashioned—and so Alex. I’m sure that’s the spark. You’re both old souls. What’s his star sign?”

  “Capricorn.”

  “Ooh… Pisces and Capricorn. That’s a good match.” She smiles at me in a knowing way. “So I take it you’re not really his nanny?”

  “No, I am. I mean, that’s the story we’re telling Pinky.” I feel like my actorly talents are faltering. “Just until we’re 100 percent sure this is going to work. Will you help me keep it a secret?”

  “We have to tell Britt. She’ll never forgive us if we keep it from her.”

  “No!” The pressure starts to build in my chest, and I wish Alex were here to jump in and help. Piper’s expression is total confusion, and I’m thinking fast. “I mean, if we tell Britt, we’ll have to tell Aiden, and then Owen will find out, and he might tell Pinky.”

  Jesus, talk about weaving a tangled web!

  My friend presses her lips together, then nods. “Okay. But we can’t keep it from her for too long or she’ll be pissed at us.”

  “Just for now, and I’ll be sure she isn’t pissed at you.” I start to take the ring off my finger, but she stops me, tilting my hand side to side.

  “It’s so beautiful!” Her voice thickens. “First Britt, now you. I’m going to be all alone before it’s over.”

  “What? No, you’re not!” I throw my arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “I would never let you be alone.”

  “Me and Ma and her ridiculous doomsday cellar.” She laughs, wiping a tear off her cheek.

  It’s a punch to the gut.

  I’m lying my ass off, and she’s getting a hundred percent emotionally invested.

  I’m going to hell.

  “Stop it, and stop crying! Nothing’s going to change.” My arm is around her shoulder, and her arm is around my waist as I turn us towards the house. “We’re going to take these kids swimming, and we’re not going to say a word about this to Adam or anybody. Okay?”

  “Okay…” She exhales heavily. “But it’s going to be hard.”

  “That’s what she said,” I quip, pulling the ring off my finger and shoving it into my pocket. “Now dry your eyes. We’ll tell everyone at the right time. Trust me.”

  I wish I sounded as confident as Alex does when he says those words to me, but in reality, I’ve never pulled a stunt like this, and I’m scared as shit over how it’s going to play out.

  It’s after five when we finally return to the house. I invite Adam and Owen to join us for supper because Adam is an incredible cook, and Alex and I have already copped to being expert re-heaters. I’m not sure how that’s going to play out.

  Parking the car, I let Pinky out before going to the trunk to remove the box of bachelorette supplies. “Would you mind taking Pinky inside? I’ve just got to carry this upstairs.”

  Owen takes his little cousin’s hand, but Adam walks straight to where I’m holding the enormous box.

  “Give me that.” He lifts it out of my hands. “You’re in the garage apartment?”

  “It’s not that heavy.” I step back crossing my arms. “I could’ve taken it up there myself.”

  “I’ll meet you inside.”

  He enters the garage, and I follow the kids around to the side door. Alex is standing at the bar in the kitchen in those ass-hugging jeans and that muscled-chest-and-biceps-hugging Henley. His hair is perfectly messy, and when they enter, Pinky lets out a loud, “Daddy!”

  I pause a moment to watch him scoop up his little redhead and give her a hug, and it’s so adorable, I’m pretty sure I ovulate. He’s such a good daddy.

  “I’ve got the latest Fortnite on the Xbox,” he tells Owen, who lets out a little hoot and gives him a high-five before taking off to the living room.

  Pinky starts squirming to get down, and the minute her feet hit the floor, she runs after her cousin.

  Alex looks up, and our eyes meet through the glass door. It’s a silent earthquake. His smile is warm liquid in my veins, and I want to walk straight into his arms, kiss his lips, and tuck my nose in his neck, inhaling his warm cedar and soap scent.

  He walks over to open the door for me, hazel eyes roaming my body. “Hey.” It’s a low vibration in the charged air around us.

  “Hey.” My reply is higher, softer.

  “Everything go okay today?”

  I nod, stepping closer so I can put my hand on his forearm as he leads me into the house. “I did just what you said. I told Piper we were keeping it quiet for now. We didn’t even tell Adam.”

  Not that it was hard. Adam’s eyes followed my friend like she was a mountain begging to be climbed, which she didn’t even seem to notice.

  When Piper said she had to check in at the paper, Adam said he had to pick up donations for the church’s food bank. Ryan stayed with us, and I spent the afternoon teaching Pinky a kid-friendly dance routine to “Fergalicious” while the boys threw a baseball back and forth.

  “Tell me what?” Adam’s voice elicits a little yelp from me.

  We both turn to face him, and he starts to laugh. “You two couldn’t look any more guilty if you tried. What are you hiding?”

  “Nothing!” My voice is too high, and my brain is spinning. “We, ah, we were…”

  Alex steps in and finishes my sentence. “We were going to offer to keep Owen for you the rest of the week. To give you a break.”

  He shakes his head like he doesn’t buy it, but he plays along. “Nah, I told Owen he could help me in the community garden tomorrow. I like him working with me.”

  He continues past us, and I put my hands on my face, peeping through my fingers at Alex. He winks and hooks a finger through mine in response, pulling me into the house. The familiar move makes my insides all squishy and warm.

  Like Piper, I never considered him a possibility before. He was always so smart and fine and distant. Now I’m practically obsessed with him.

  “Let me help you with that.” He goes to where Adam is dragging leftover reception food out of the refrigerator.

  “I’ll chop up some fresh veggies and sauté them together…” Adam is already spinning his culinary magic when I go to where Pinky is hanging on her cousin in front of the television.

  Owen keeps rolling his shoulder and telling her to get off him, and I’m not sure Fortnight is the best game for a four-year-old to watch.

  “Let’s get the chlorine out of your hair, Pink!” I call brightly.

  “Noo!” She falls back on the couch with a loud wail. “I’m helping Bubba kill the bad guys.”

  “No, you’re not!” Owen snaps. “Stop calling me Bubba and go wash your hair!”

  His response only makes her dig in her heels harder. Her little back arches off the couch, and I know two things—she’s tired, and she’s hungry. I also remember what Adam said about not crossing the pink cyclone.

  Chewing my lip, I don’t want to seem like I can’t handle Alex’s daughter, even when she’s being a pill. Looking around, my eyes land on Piglet.

  “I think all that shooting scares Piglet.” My head tilts to the side, and I lift the stuffed pig, stroking his head. “It’s okay, Piglet, I’ll take you upstairs so you don’t have to be alone.”

  Pinky stills on the couch, her little face turning serious as she watches me cradling her bestie.

  I lay it on thick. “You’re a good little pig, you know? I’ll let you use my special shampoo and conditioner to get the chlorine out of your fur. And maybe we can paint your toenails when we’re done.”

  She’s off the couch in a jump. “Piglet doesn’t have toenails! He can’t wear polish!”

  “Huh.” Twisting my lips, I examine his stuffed hooves. “That’s too bad. I was in the mood to give someone a pedicure.”

  Sliding her little hand in my arm, she reassures me. “It’s okay. You can give me a pedicure!”

  Narrowing my eyes, I pretend to consider this alternative. “You’ll have to wash your hair first, and we can’t take too long because Uncle Adam is making a delicious dinner.”

  She bypasses me, running up the stairs faster than I can catch her. “I’ll be so fast!”

  “Let me help you rinse your hair!” I climb the stairs after her feeling pretty good about my mastery of preschooler manipulation.

  When we return to the kitchen, a gorgeous platter of snapped green beans, yellow squash, and grilled tomatoes sits beside grilled chicken breasts and crescent rolls in the middle of the table. Pinky’s toes are painted with Essie’s Ballet Slipper, which is the palest shade of pink available—another thing I didn’t ask Alex about first.

  I’ve got to do better.

  The kids are ravenous after our day of activity. I’m pretty ravenous myself, and we don’t talk much during the meal. Alex and Adam, by contrast, chat nonstop about Drake the Douche’s plan to turn Eureka into the newest high-end resort location on the Carolina coast.

  “We’re not even that close to the beach.” Adam’s tone is logical.

  Alex is a bit fiercer. “He’s like every developer I’ve ever met. He can’t see a beautiful, undisturbed patch of nature without wanting to muck it up with hotels and parking lots.”

  His brother laughs. “I had no idea you were such a conservationist.”

  “I’m not a conservationist. I just don’t want him screwing with Eureka.”

  “I think everyone will agree with that.”

  The kids hop down and return to the living room, and I collect our plates, carrying them to the sink.

  The men have fallen silent until Adam lifts his wine glass as if to toast. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, Bro, nice ass.”

  Alex coughs on his sip, setting his glass down a little too hard. “What the fuck?”

  “Language, please.” Adam glances over his shoulder to where the kids aren’t listening, barely containing his laughter.

  My eyes widen, and I turn to the sink fast, rinsing the plates and trying not to snort.

  “It’s all good,” Adam continues. “I don’t think they heard you.”

  “Why did you say that to me?” Alex actually looks over his shoulder and down his back, and I can’t hold back.

  A laugh hiccups in my throat.

  “Although, I’ve heard it’s a painful procedure.” His brother continues. “Where did they find fat on your body?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Alex is so confused, and I’m about to pee holding in my laughter.

  “Don’t worry—your secret’s safe with me.” He pats Alex on the shoulder on his way to the living room. “Owen, we gotta get home, little man. Morning comes early.”

  Owen exhales a half-hearted protest, and Pinky’s eyes are heavy as she lies on the couch behind him. Aiden’s son gives us all hugs before following his uncle to the door.

  “Night, babe.” Adam kisses my cheek, calling back as he leaves. “Better watch your car. Somebody’s pranking you.”

  Alex goes to the door leading to the garage, and I skip into the living room, scooping a sleeping little girl off the couch. I carry her up the stairs, and she doesn’t even open her eyes as I help her brush her teeth then exchange her dress for her nightgown.

  Her daddy is waiting in the bedroom when we return, and he leans down to kiss her forehead as she snuggles with Piglet.

  Our eyes meet, and I can see I’m in trouble now.

  CHAPTER 15

  ALEX

  I got my BBL from Booty’s!

  The bright yellow bumper sticker announces in red lettering from the passenger’s side rear window of my car.

  Right where I’d never see it.

  Scraping my thumbnail over the vinyl, I try to get it off, but I can’t. How long has this been here? My jaw tightens when I remember Drake complimenting my ass, and I rub a hand over my mouth trying to think.

  It wasn’t there after the wedding. I loaded and unloaded Pinky and all the leftovers Mom sent home with us. I’d have seen it then, or my mom definitely would have. I can only imagine how that would’ve gone down.

  Actually, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know what a Brazilian Butt Lift is, so probably nothing would’ve gone down besides confusion. The name Booty’s is vaguely familiar, and I stand, doing my best to place where I’ve heard it before.

  My eyes drift to the stairs, and I think about Cass’s suspicious retreat to the kitchen when Adam brought it up. I’ve only been around one other person since Saturday.

  Standing there in the garage, staring at the garish bumper sticker, I start to laugh. “Fuck, she got me,” I mutter to myself.

  The irritation simmering in my stomach turns to an amusing urge for payback, and I head into the house. She wants to play games? She has no idea who she’s up against.

  I hear noises upstairs, and I slowly climb to where she’s guiding my daughter through brushing her teeth. Pinky’s eyes are closed through the entire process, and I don’t think she’ll be up for a story tonight.

  No worries, because I have other plans.

  Cass’s eyes flicker to mine where I’m waiting in the doorway, and she blinks away quickly. That’s right, you’re busted.

  Biting the inside of my lip, I don’t smile. I’ll use her thinking I’m pissed to my advantage.

  Then she hits me with her secret weapon. Sitting on the side of Pinky’s bed, she strokes her hand over my daughter’s head as she softly sings a lullaby about a castle on a cloud.

  It’s a melancholy little song, but fuck, her voice is so beautiful. It changes the burn in my stomach to something deeper, something urgent.

  She whispers the last words about how crying is not allowed, and I’m ready to pull her to me and make sure she never sheds another tear as long as she lives.

  Pinky is long gone in dreamland when Cass stands and tiptoes in my direction. We step out of the room, and she closes the door silently before looking up at me.

  I’m standing in front of her trying to remember how I managed to speak the last time I heard her sing. I was stronger than I thought at fifteen, because I’d also just seen her naked body for the first time—pert little tits, flat stomach…

  She was my teenage wet dream, a fucking siren from the sea, and still I spoke to her that day.

  “You said your mother was a singer?”

  She nods. “She wanted to be the next Stevie Nicks. She loved her songs and her witchy style, but she never got anywhere with it.”

  “What happened to her?”

  A little sigh slips from her lips. “She died in a hotel on St Louis Street.”

  “Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Her chin lifts in a defensive way, and her narrow shoulders shrug. “She made her choices. They didn’t include me… or any of us.”

  “Maybe she felt like she couldn’t come back empty-handed?”

  “Or the things she left behind didn’t have value to her.”

  “Her choices are her mistakes. They have nothing to do with you.” I want to touch her, help her see how much I see in her. “Your beautiful voice is your gift, like your future.”

  Smoky gray-blue eyes meet mine, and her lips slide into a half-smile. “I sing for fun. As for my future, I want something that will pay the bills and not break my heart.”

  “Sounds like everyone in the world.”

  “Not everyone.”

  Reaching out, I clasp her hand, threading our fingers and leading her downstairs with a gentle tug. I feel like I understand her more now than I’ve ever understood anyone in my life. I’ve been disappointed by that person. The only difference was, she wasn’t my mother.

  When we reach the first floor, I look down at the fingers of her left hand tangled in mine. I imagine our lives entwined. I imagine us married. A secure future for her, where no one is left behind and no hearts are broken.

  My eyes meet hers, and she’s so open. Everything I said last night about waiting is out the window. I want to lift her in my arms, carry her out the door and up the stairs to her apartment. I want to spend the night with her in my arms, but is it too much? Too fast?