Pinky is on the couch happily watching her fish movie. Reaching down, I slide the messy ponytail I did out of her hair, and her shiny pink curls fall around her little shoulders. That’s better.

  Returning to the kitchen, I drop the band in a drawer, giving that space a cursory glance. Our breakfast dishes are in the sink, but the room is otherwise spotless. A vase of Gerber daisies is on the reclaimed wood bar, again, thanks to Harriet the maid, and the sun shines through the windows, giving the place a happy morning vibe.

  It’s an inviting workspace, I think.

  Stopping in front of the large mirror in the foyer, I rake my fingers through my dark hair. Overnight, it seems, my hair has gotten too long. It’ll have to do. Glancing down at my jeans and white linen button-up shirt, I roll the sleeves to look less formal.

  Welcoming. I’m going for welcoming.

  Clearing my throat, I trot down the short flight of steps to the garage, hitting the button on the way down. The metal double-door rises, and I watch as her sexy legs are exposed first, followed by the cutoff denim overalls she’s always wearing, with a strap over one shoulder so her white tank top is exposed along with her smooth shoulders.

  The baggy overalls completely hide her body, which I know from twice exposure is as hot as fuck.

  “Hey!” Her voice is a little breathy, but optimistic.

  “Hey.” I close the space between us, stopping in front of her older Subaru. “Welcome. Mi casa es su casa.”

  “Really?” Her nose wrinkles, and I shrug.

  “Sort of. Your apartment is up these stairs.” I gesture to the staircase. “I’ll help you carry your stuff.”

  Stepping around to the open hatchback of her car, I grab a large suitcase out of the back. Crates of toiletries and assorted accessories are stacked beside it.

  “Oh! You don’t have to—”

  “You can’t carry all this up those stairs, and even if you could, my mom would never forgive me if I let you.”

  A shaky laugh slips through her lips, and she picks up a crate, her eyes flickering to mine and back again. “Perks of living in the South?”

  “Make the most of it.”

  She seems a little nervous, which makes me want to put her at ease. I want her to know this arrangement doesn’t have to be so formal.

  I walk up the stairs with her large, heavy suitcase, stopping at the door and inserting the key. “You’ll have the only set of these.”

  “That’s a terrible idea.” She steps up behind me with the crate in her hand. “We should figure out a good hiding place for at least one. In the drawer at the bottom of the stairs?”

  “Too obvious.” I unlock the door, and the musty smell of unused air hits me. “I need to open a window and turn on the air conditioner.”

  Why didn’t I do that first thing?

  “You forget I’ve lived in Eureka since I was thirteen.” She pushes past me, depositing the crate on the floor inside. “I know all about hot, humid weather and unoccupied houses.”

  “It’s a good place.” I don’t want her to think I’ve relegated her to a moldy shit hole. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “After last night, I’m surprised either of us is up and moving around this morning.”

  Last night has been on my mind all morning. We probably should make a plan for Drake and what’s happening with our fake engagement. Instead, we continue unloading her car until my phone goes off, and I remember the little princess I left in front of the TV.

  “Time to brush our teeth.”

  Cass’s eyebrows curve. “Is it a group activity?”

  “For Penelope, I mean. She wanted to drink her milk and watch Finding Nemo.”

  “Oh, I love Finding Nemo! I’ll go with you.” Cass puts the box on the floor. “I can finish later, after she’s asleep. I don’t want to miss anything.”

  “You sure?”

  “Lead the way!”

  We jog down the stairs and into the house, where Pinky is lying on her side, clutching Piglet and watching the orange fish talking to a turtle.

  “Oh, it’s Crush—my favorite part!” Cass skips forward and sits by my daughter on the couch, giving her a little bump. “Hey, dude!”

  “Dude! You’re here!” Pinky sits up as soon as Cass joins her, and the two of them smile at each other.

  “This is the best part of the movie.” Cass bounces slightly on the cushion.

  The fish and the turtles shoot through the water, and Pinky hugs her stuffed pig tightly, climbing onto her knees and putting her hand on Cass’s shoulder.

  Cass gives her waist a reassuring squeeze. “They’re shooting the curl.”

  “Like Uncle Adam! Sweet.” She sounds like one of the little turtles.

  “He’s got some serious thrill issues, Dude,” Cass says, and Pinky beams at her.

  I cross my arms, leaning my shoulder against the wall and smiling at the two of them quoting lines together.

  “Dad said you’re going to stay with me until kindergarten!” P’s voice is high and excited.

  “Yep, and we’re going to have so. Much. Fun!” Cass boops her little nose with every word.

  My daughter’s eyes widen with her smile, and I can tell she’s as taken with her new nanny as I am.

  She holds out the floppy, faded-pink stuffed animal. “This is my friend Piglet. He’s been with me since I was born.”

  Cass makes an impressed face and shakes the stuffed animal’s foot. “How do you do, Piglet? I can tell you’re a well-loved pig.”

  “Miss Holly says pigs are as smart as dogs.” Pinky settles her stuffed friend at her side. “But Daddy said Piglet can’t go with me to school, and he had to stay home and nap during the wedding. He could get lost, and he can’t find his way home like Myrtle can.”

  “Your dad is right. We don’t want to lose Piglet.”

  They return to watching the movie and quoting lines. Dory spies something orange and white, and it’s Marlin. She does it again, and it’s still Marlin—and the two of them look at each other and laugh.

  Then Cass taps Pinky’s shoulder, and her voice turns into a long, deep, sing-song. “Let’s take a breaaaak and brush our teeeeth!”

  My chin pulls back, and I’m not sure what’s happening right now. At the same time, the blue fish in the movie starts doing the same thing. Apparently they’re speaking whale.

  Pinky doesn’t miss a beat. “Ooooh-kaaay!”

  Cass snorts a laugh, and Pinky hops off the couch, grabbing Cass’s hand and shouting. “I’ll show you my room!”

  This is working out too well.

  Cass glances back at me. “If there’s anything you need to do today, I’ve got things covered here.”

  “Yes, you do.” I smile like I’ve made some big discovery, but the truth is everyone, including Cass, told me she was great with kids. “It’s Sunday. We’re usually at Mom’s for lunch.”

  “Gram said today is special because of the wedding. We’re going to have desserts tonight instead of lunch.”

  “She wants to tell the kids good-bye before she leaves tomorrow.”

  “Ah,” Cass’s chin lifts. “I’ll finish unpacking while you go.”

  In the meantime, I guess I’ve got the afternoon to myself.

  For the first time in a long time, I could actually go fishing, but what I really want to do is watch my fake fiancée fitting seamlessly into my little family.

  CHAPTER 10

  CASS

  Penelope Stone is a little girl after my own heart. By suppertime, we’ve finished Nemo, and she’s shown me all the dolls in her room. Her favorite stuffed princess doll is Ariel, because she lives at the beach like we do, but her daddy said she can never trade any of her body parts for a boy, which she thinks is silly. She would never do something like that.

  She likes Eric’s dog way better.

  And Sebastian.

  Alex has been drifting around watching us most of the day, and I can’t tell if he’s checking on us or if he doesn’t know what to do with his free time.

  The stacked boxes of my belongings in the garage apartment are on my mind, and I consider letting him take over while I unpack. I don’t, because the truth is, I like spending time with Pinky. She’s cute and funny, and she’s teaching me a lot about her dad.

  It’s a complete contrast to the controlled, all-business side he projects in his element at the distillery. He’s never unsure or at a loss there.

  Even last night at the reception, the way he took charge, putting his arm around me and holding my hand as if daring Drake to challenge us. It’s hot.

  When I return to the kitchen, he has three plates of roast chicken and scalloped potatoes, shrimp and grits, and assorted rolls prepared for dinner.

  “I’m impressed.” I can’t help teasing him.

  “Like I said, I’m an excellent re-heater,” he teases right back, placing one plate in the microwave and hitting the start button. “Mom made us all plates from the reception last night. She asked us to have the kids over at seven.”

  “I’ll unpack while you’re gone. When you get back, do you want me to bathe her? Get her ready for bed?”

  “We usually read a book together at bedtime.” A small dimple I’ve never noticed appears in his cheek when he smiles. “She really likes you. Maybe you could take over bath time, and I’ll keep the book?”

  “Sounds like a plan!”

  “Then we need to talk.” The shift in his tone tenses my stomach.

  I’m sure he means we need to talk about the fake engagement I’ve roped him into, and standing here in front of him, in broad daylight with no alcohol or adrenaline mixing in my veins, I want to crawl under a rock and hide. How could I do that to him? He must think I’m completely insane.

  Embarrassment burns in my cheeks, and I’m not so hungry anymore. “I’ll go ahead and start unpacking. Just let me know when you’re back.”

  The garage apartment is the same style as the house, with smooth pine floors and ceilings. It reminds me of a mountain cottage, and it smells like wood and books and crisp air-conditioned air.

  Walking to the small bookcase, I peruse the titles. He has two biographies of Alexander Hamilton, one of John Adams, The Road by Cormac McCarthy, The Human Stain by Phillip Roth, and one lone title by Barbara Kingsolver, Prodigal Summer.

  “Hello, how did you get here?” I pull the lush green hardback from the shelf, turning it in my hands.

  I prefer romance and happily ever afters—the spicier the better. Still, it’s nice to see he’s a bit well-rounded.

  A queen-sized bed is across the room against the wall, and beside it, a door leads to a large, full bathroom. Flipping on the light, I exhale a happy sigh when I see a garden tub situated in the corner.

  I’m already planning long soaks with fizzies and candles—after Penelope is tucked in for the night, of course. Opening the music app on my phone, I cue up the soundtrack for Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again and get to work unpacking my few belongings to the sounds of Cher singing “Fernando.”

  I’ve moved so many times, I’ve become a pro at fitting all my things in one suitcase and a few collapsible crates. It doesn’t take long for me to arrange my clothes in the closet, my personal belongings on the shelves, my Kindle on the nightstand, and my toiletries in the bathroom.

  I go ahead and take a quick shower while I’m waiting for Alex and Pinky to return, and I slip into black yoga pants and black sports bra with a long-sleeved, tan sweater on top. I’ve just finished brushing my hair when I hear the sound of the garage closing below.

  Damn electric cars. I’ll never get used to how quiet they are.

  I step into a pair of black Birkenstock sandals before heading out the door and trotting down the stairs. He stands out of the car, and his full lips twitch with a near-smile when he sees me. One eyebrow rises, and a thrill flashes to my toes.

  It’s the same look as when he kissed me, and I kind of hate working for him now. I’d like to trot down the stairs, walk straight to him and put my arms around his neck. I’d like another of his underwear-igniting kisses. I’d like his hands under my sweater, sliding across my skin. I’d like to touch the thick cock he’s hiding in his pants…

  He hesitates, his eyes never leaving me, and my skin heats as I wonder if he can read my mind, if he’s thinking the same thing as me.

  “Daa-daay!” Pinky shouts from the backseat, breaking the spell.

  I snort a laugh, and he grins, turning to open the door as I continue down the stairs.

  He lifts the little princess out of her booster seat, and I stand back, waiting. “I’m going to have to get used to your silent car.”

  “Did we sneak up on you?” He lifts Penelope in an arc before placing her on her feet in front of me.

  “The garage door gave you away.” I reach out, and she grabs my hand, skipping beside me. “How was your dessert?”

  “We had your cake again, and I ate two pieces!” She holds up two fingers, and my eyebrows rise.

  “Wow! I hope they were little pieces.”

  “They were not.” Alex’s voice is almost a growl, and I press my lips together.

  “Daddy says I’m going to be up all night on a sugar high. Is that like up in a balloon? I want to be high like a balloon!” She jumps up and down pumping one little fist over her head like a cheerleader.

  “It’s not really like a balloon.” I glance at him over my shoulder, and he shakes his head.

  “But I want to go up in a balloon! Can we do that while you’re here?”

  “I know something even better. It’ll help you relax, and you can dream about riding in a balloon. Sound good?” She nods her red head vigorously. “I’ll grab it from my room and meet you in your bathroom.”

  Minutes later, I’m upstairs in the main house running a large tub of warm water and adding soothing essential oils and bubbles, nothing too irritating for her delicate skin.

  She bounces into the bathroom in her birthday suit, and I laugh. “You’re naked as a jaybird!”

  That makes her jump more, pumping her elbows like wings as her strawberry curls fly all around her shoulders. I see the reason for Alex’s frustration. She’s a live wire.

  Grabbing a scrunchie, I swoop her hair up on top of her head before helping her into the bath. “Did you have fun at your gram’s house?”

  She nods, looking down at the thin layer of bubbles floating on the top of the water. “She gave me all the cake.”

  “Your gram loves you very much.” I take a large, natural sponge with lavender soap and rub it gently in large circles over her back.

  “She’s going to be gone a long time.” Her little voice goes quiet, and I bend down to check her expression.

  “But she’ll be back soon, and while she’s gone, I’ll be here to play with you.”

  “Gram is Daddy’s mom, but she’s not my mom.”

  I dip the sponge in the warm water and rub it slowly down her little arms, thinking about this. “She’s your grandmother, which is a very special kind of mom. She loves you very much, and so does your dad.”

  Her little chin bobs, but she studies her fingers in the suds. “I know. He loves me twice as much, because I don’t have a mom, like Nemo. None of the princesses have mommies.”

  I’m not sure if it’s the calming lavender bringing her down or if it’s this turn in the conversation. I haven’t talked to Alex about what to say if her mother comes up, and I’m at a total loss, looking for any way to give her comfort.

  “I grew up without a mom, too.”

  Her blue eyes fly to mine. “You did?”

  “Yep.” I rub the sponge over her back again, slower. “I moved here to live with my aunt when I was thirteen.”

  “Did she die?” She blinks round eyes at me.

  “No. She couldn’t take care of me, so my aunt took over. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it makes more sense to me now.”

  Her eyes return to her fingers in the bubbles. “My mom can’t take care of me either. Daddy said she’s working far, far away in Africa, so I can’t ever talk to her.” Her voice is so serious, and I put the sponge aside. “Gram said I should talk to her whenever I need to talk to my mom, but now she’s gone, too.”

  I’m sitting on the bathroom floor, resting my chin on my hand. Her little expression is so sad, and I trace my finger along a curl that’s slipped out of the scrunchie, moving it behind her ear.

  “Your gram will be back in a few weeks.” My voice is gentle. “I know that feels like a long time, but it’ll pass so fast. And while she’s gone, maybe you can talk to me if you want to talk to your gram or your mom? I’m not a gram or a mom, but I know things.”

  Her rosebud lips press together, and she blinks a few times at the bubbles.

  Lifting her chin, our eyes meet again, and it’s clear she’s thinking about it. “You know all the Dory parts in Nemo.”

  “I do.” I give her an easy smile. “Remember what Dory says when life gets you down?”

  I sing the words to “Just keep swimming” softly, and her eyes blink a few times as her expression starts to relax. A hint of a smile lifts her lips, and we sing the words together, finishing the song.

  She puts her hand on mine. “I can talk to you.”

  “And I’ll do my very best to be a good listener.” I kiss her little forehead as I push myself to stand, grabbing a fluffy purple towel off the rack. “Now you need to get out of this tub and get ready for bed. The water’s all cold.”

  She stands, and I hold out my hands for her to jump onto the bathmat where I quickly rub the towel all over her little body. “Ready to snuggle in your bed and dream about going up in a beautiful balloon?”

  “Yes!” She holds my shoulders as she steps into her underwear. “My bath smells like Gram’s yard.”

  “It’s called lavender.” I drop her Ariel nightgown over her head before taking her hand as we walk into the bedroom where her dad is sitting on the foot of her bed holding a thin book.

  Our eyes meet, and his are so full, my stomach tightens. I can only imagine he heard our conversation, and I hope I didn’t overstep or say the wrong thing.

  I help Pinky onto her pillow, settle Piglet at her side and kiss the top of her head. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”