The Truth About Lennon - K.L. Grayson

The Truth About Lennon Copyright © 2017 by KL. Grayson

ISBN: 978-0-9986253-0-0

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Cover photographer and Designer: Sara Eirew Editor: Jessica Royer Ocken KL Grayson Bio Pic Photographer: Elisabeth Wiseman Photography Formatting by Champagne Formats

Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Epilogue Acknowledgements About the Author Other Books

To Tom. It’s easy writing strong, sexy, sweet men when I have you as a husband. Every single day I thank God for bringing you into my life. You’re an amazing person, an even better father, and an extraordinary husband.



“I am beautiful.” The narrator’s soft voice croons through the speakers. I cringe, but repeat the words. “I am beautiful.” Everyone has always told me how pretty I am. Gorgeous, stunning, breathtaking—all words used by my parents, friends, teachers, even strangers. But they see who I am on the outside. Daughter of acclaimed actress Renee Barrick and Vice Presidential candidate Christopher St. James. Socialite. Former child star. I despise who I am on the outside. Perfectly coiffed, manicured, waxed, and well-mannered, all wrapped up in one perfectly presentable package. Silky blond hair with big, beautiful beach waves—thank you kindly to my extensions— designer clothes, and lips that, according to my ex-bestie Lizzie, can bring grown men to their knees. And believe it or not, those are all things I hate about myself. Who gives a shit if I’m a size six or my hair has the perfect balayage? What about who I am on the inside? What about my kind heart and sympathetic soul? What about who I am when no one is looking? Don’t those things matter anymore? Today’s world is so consumed with beauty and the perfectly sculpted body that the really important things people have to offer go unnoticed. Such as kindness and compassion. “I am strong.” Glaring at the screen on the dash, I wrinkle my nose at the narrator. This one is a bit harder because I’m the opposite of strong. I’m weak—a puppet of sorts, conforming to what everyone else wants, occasionally forgetting that it’s okay to have an opinion. It’s okay to be…me. And the real me doesn’t want to be a trophy wife. Or a CPA. The real me wants to sew and design— to be free to do what I want without the fear of repercussions. That’s exactly why I moved here… Well, partly why I moved here, away from the hustle and bustle that was my life. Away from the proverbial hell and straight into Heaven. Heaven, Texas, that is. Population ten thousand five hundred seventy-one, and home of the thickest, saltiest air in the entire universe. Air that is no doubt doing a number on my overpriced extensions. Normally this would be a problem. Today it isn’t. Because today is my new normal. Today is about letting go, moving forward, and embracing me: Lennon St. James.

Seamstress. Designer. Independent woman. See? I’ve got this in the bag. My parents think they’re making me lie low, stay out of the limelight, so to speak, after the media shitstorm my life inadvertently caused. Public embarrassment, that’s what my mother called it. Apparently I shamed my family, putting my father’s campaign at risk. In my defense, I was trying to help someone I thought was a friend. But whatever. My parents are doing me a favor. Little do they know they’re also giving me what I’ve been yearning for: the opportunity to finally get away from it all. The life. The city. Them. Squaring my shoulders, I take a deep breath. “I am strong.” “Very good,” the narrator says before the gentle music fades. There’s a click through my speakers, and a huskier voice says, “This is the end of session one.” I’m not typically one to listen to self-help programs. In fact, I’ve never listened to one until today, and it wasn’t really by choice. The people who rented this car before me must’ve left the CD in the player, and considering I’ve probably spent a whopping ten hours in the front seat of a car—ever—I can’t figure out how to take the darn thing out. So, I took it as a sign. A little self help never hurt anyone, right? “Please insert disc two: Free Yourself of Anxiety and Stress.” I make a mental note to search for disc two while glancing to my right. I’m momentarily stunned by the most breathtaking coastal view. My world has until now been filled with skyscrapers and busy streets where a five-minute commute can easily turn into twenty or thirty, and people would rather bike or walk than drive. But here… Here it’s much different. The open road begs for rolled-down windows, cranked music, and soaking up the hot summer sun. And I plan to soak it up right over there in front of that sprawling blue ocean. Okay, it’s less blue and more murky, but it’s an ocean, and I’ll take it. My car hugs the curves as I cruise along the coast, glancing back and forth from the endless sandy beach to the road in front me, desperate to take it all in, which is probably why I don’t notice the subtle curve to the right and the motorcycle that comes barreling around the— Oh shit! Jerking my wheel, I swerve off the road and skid to a stop. My heart in my throat and my stomach on the floor, I throw my car in park and shove open the door in time to see the motorcycle slide across the road before landing in a large plume of dust. Oh my God. Oh my God. I almost hit someone. I can’t believe I just ran someone off the road. What if he’s hurt or worse yet… No! I dart across the road and fall to my knees beside the the motorist. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry. Are you okay?” The man fumbles with his helmet, his hands shaking, and after a few failed attempts to get it off, I reach out and help. With one swift tug, the helmet pops off, and I’m greeted by the most gorgeous set of dark brown eyes. On any other day they’d probably be warm and inviting, but as it is today, they look a bit menacing. “Do I look okay?” he growls, glancing at his leg pinned under the giant hog. “You’re right,” I say frantically, holding out a placating hand. “Stay right here. I’m going to call nine

one one.” “Where the fuck am I gonna go?” His words are harsh, which is completely expected considering I just ran the poor man off the road, and they’re probably also fueled by an immense amount of pain, which is why I choose to ignore him. “Right. Okay.” Scrambling to my feet, I dart across the road and call for an ambulance, all the while praying I don’t get hauled off to jail, because if anything would make Daddy Dearest piss his pants, it would be that. The dispatcher takes our location and encourages me to stay calm. She tells me a few other things, but I can’t concentrate because my damn eyes keep lingering on the sexy man across the street. The way his hair tumbles in front of his face. The firm set of his jaw and— “Ma’am?” “Huh?” “Are you hurt?” I shake my head. “No.” “An ambulance is on its way.” “Thank you.” I shove my phone in my pocket and run back across the asphalt. “An ambulance is on its way.” The stranger grunts, thanking me for for my assistance as he pushes up on his elbows, somehow maneuvering himself into an awkward sitting position. He struggles to get his leather jacket off, so I reach out to give him a hand, but a low growl deters me. A couple of minutes pass. Sweat is pouring off of his forehead, and eventually the stubborn man sighs and looks over at me. “A little help here?” As delicately as possible, I help him out of his coat. “I’m going to pretend you asked me nicely.” “And I’m going to pretend you didn’t just try to kill me.” He has a point, although I’m too distracted by the intricate swirl of tattoos running up his arms, the way his red cotton shirt stretches tight across his chest, and the chunk of dark hair that can’t seem to stay off of his forehead. No wonder they call this place Heaven. He’s like an angel wrapped in denim and leather. And if that isn’t the most perfect kind of heaven, I don’t know what is. “A little less staring, a little more help,” he says, grunting again as he tries to pull his leg out from under the bike. I should be embarrassed that I got caught checking him out. Oddly enough, I’m not—not one bit. The old me would’ve been, but not Lennon St. James. No sir, she’s a little minx that will do whatever the hell she wants. For the most part…as long as it doesn’t get her in trouble…or put her in danger. “Shouldn’t we wait for the ambulance?” “No, we shouldn’t,” he says tightly, glaring up at me. “Now would you give me a hand?” I’m not sure what he thinks I’m going to do. I’m lucky if I weigh a buck twenty soaking wet, and this motorcycle probably weighs ten times that. “What are you doing in Heaven?” Palms pressed flat against the bike, he pushes, but the heap of steel doesn’t move. “I’m an angel, where else would I be?” I give my brightest smile, but Motorcycle Man only glares. “Okay. Not the time for jokes. Sorry.” “You didn’t—” He huffs, pushing again. “—answer my question.” “How do you know I’m not from Heaven?” “Because I know everyone in this town. Plus,” he adds, blowing out a sharp breath, “the locals know

there’s a curve on this road. Anytime there’s an accident, it’s a tourist.” “Yes, well, I’m not a tourist.” He lifts a brow, challenging me, and I clear my throat. “Okay, fine. I’m a tourist, but not for long. I’m moving here.” Temporarily, but he doesn’t need to know that “Why?” “I really don’t want to talk about it.” Pressing my hands to the tank, I push, hoping our combined strength will be enough to move the bike. It’s not. “Well, I do.” Taking a deep breath, he blows it out slowly and gives up on trying to move the bike. His forehead is pinched in pain, his eyes glassy, and I wonder if maybe he hit his head. “Listen, I’m trying really hard not to pass out here, so if you could just keep talking and keep me occupied, I’d appreciate it.” “Um…okay.” Come on, Lennon. You can do this. When I think about keeping a man occupied, I think about giving him a toe-curling kiss, or slipping my hand into his pants, but I highly doubt Motorcycle Man here wants me crawling on his lap at a time like this. Plus, he probably has a wife at home. A really gorgeous wife. “Tell me about your tattoos,” I blurt. His eyes narrow, lips slam shut, and he shakes his head. “Nope. Next question.” “Why not?” “Because,” he says, attempting to adjust himself. “Fuck,” he grits out, his jaw clenched tight. He looks away as though he’s trying to hide his pain. Typical man. Scooting forward, I position myself behind his back and wrap my legs around his hips to support some of his weight. “Here. Lean back on me. Take some of that weight off. You probably shouldn’t be sitting up anyway. I think you might’ve hit your head.” Surprisingly, he leans back, the weight of his body causing the palms of my hands to dig into the loose gravel at the side of the road. I do my best to ignore the bite of pain because right here, with my legs wrapped around a stranger on the side of a coastal highway in a foreign town, I feel more comfortable than I have in a long time. “I didn’t hit my head.” His words are soft, and I decide it’s better not to argue with him, so I change the subject. “Now that you’re situated and, you know, more comfortable, you can tell me about your tattoos.” “No.” “They’re really pretty.” “Tattoos aren’t pretty.” I shrug. “Mine are.” That catches his attention. Biker dude cranes his neck to look at me. “You have tattoos?” I nod, and he narrows his eyes. “The henna ones don’t count.” “It’s not a henna. I have—” I’m interrupted by the call of sirens as the ambulance comes into view. It pulls up along the side of the road, and a couple of men jump out, bags in hand. “Noah Fucking Cunningham.” The short one shakes his head as he walks toward us. The tall, lanky one unloads a stretcher from the back of the ambulance. “Only you would wreck your bike and end up in the arms of the prettiest gal in Texas.”

Noah. Noah Cunningham. I wasn’t expecting him to be a Noah. He looks too rugged to be a Noah. When I think of Noah, I think of someone sweet, someone less leather and more…tweed. But I like it. A lot. “Shut the fuck up, Mikey, and get this goddamn bike off my leg.” I nudge Noah in the arm. “That wasn’t very nice.” “That’s all right, darlin’,” Mikey says, squatting down to secure Noah’s leg. “Noah isn’t very nice. In fact, he’s pretty damn grumpy. Unless Nova’s around.” “Nova?” I ask, hoping it’s his dog. “Is Nova your dog?” Mikey busts up laughing, and Noah just grunts, something I’m starting to realize he’s good at. “No? Your car?” Please let it be your car. It shouldn’t matter because I sure as hell don’t need to be thinking of Noah as anyone other than the poor soul I almost killed, and I sure as hell don’t need to be lusting after him and all his inked-up glory. In fact, I should probably steer clear of men altogether. Especially after what happened with Mathis. (Yes, he wore tweed.) Except this man isn’t at all like Mathis. At least I don’t think he is. Only time would tell, and well, time isn’t something we have a whole lot of right now. “Yes,” Noah grits out between his teeth. “Nova is my car.” Mikey’s eyes dance with amusement. He smiles knowingly, but doesn’t say anything else, instead choosing to focus his attention where it should be—on Noah’s leg. In a matter of seconds, the motorcycle is moved and Noah is loaded onto a stretcher. Glancing down, I assess the damage I caused. Noah’s leg appears to be nice and straight, which has to be a good thing, but blood has seeped through his jeans, and there’s a giant rip in the denim, exposing a nasty-looking cut above his knee. I have to look away before I throw up. “It’s just a little blood,” Mikey whispers before loading Noah into the ambulance. He shuts the doors and turns to me. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him. I’d offer you a ride, but a police officer is on the way to take your statement.” My statement? “Right.” Because I just caused an accident. “Okay. I won’t go anywhere.” Mikey smiles. “I didn’t catch your name.” “It’s Lennon.” “Lennon. That’s an interesting name.” I wait for him to ask me if I was named after John Lennon, because that’s what everyone asks. But he doesn’t, and I’m grateful. It’s awkward telling people your mother has an unhealthy obsession with the Beatles. Instead he says, “Well, Lennon, we’re taking Noah to Heaven Memorial if you, you know—” He shrugs. “—want to check on him later.” I nod. “Thank you.” Mikey nods, patting my shoulder before climbing into the ambulance and whisking Noah away. Seconds later, the police officer shows up. Several questions, a not-so-well-drawn diagram of the accident, and one warning later, I find myself back in the car, winding through the streets of Heaven. I flick my blinker on when the navigation instructs me to turn left. Only instead of turning left, I turn right, following the small blue signs until I pull up in front of Heaven Memorial Hospital. Turn around, I tell myself. Of course I don’t listen. I’m too damn stubborn for that.



“Can I help you?” “Yes, I’m looking for Noah Cunningham. He was brought in by ambulance a little while ago.” The woman looks me over and she smiles, but it isn’t as friendly as it should be. “Are you family?” “Um…” I shake my head. “No.” Her smile fades, and I quickly improvise because I know that look. If I’m not family, she won’t let me back there to see him. “Not yet, at least,” I say, mustering up as much conviction as I can. “I’m his fiancée.” Oh shit. I can’t believe I just said that. Too late now. That makes her frown. “Noah doesn’t have a fiancée.” “How do you know?” Narrowing her eyes, the woman stands behind her desk. “I grew up with Noah. Our brothers are friends. I think I’d know if he was dating, let alone engaged,” she says—a bit too defensively, if you ask me. Does this woman have a thing for Noah? A hint of jealousy sparks in my veins, surprising me. “I assure you he does,” I say with just as much bite, because as it turns out, I have a thing for him too. The bitch crosses her arms over her chest. “Where’s your ring?” “I didn’t put it on this morning. What are you, the engagement police?” Not the cleverest thing to say, I know, but it’s the best I could come up with. Lips pressed firmly together, the woman glares. If looks could kill I’d be dead, buried, and forgotten about. I glance at the woman’s name tag before meeting her death stare head on. “Now I get it,” I say, snapping my fingers as though I should’ve recognized her sooner. “You’re Penny.” Penny’s scowl turns into more of a frown. “Noah told me all about you.” As expected, this perks her up. “He did?” She quickly realizes her mistake. “I mean, of course he did.” “There you are, Lennon!” I turn to see Mikey, the guy from the ambulance, walking toward us. If the look on his face is any indication, he caught some—if not all—of my little white lie. Leaning against the desk, he smiles warmly at the woman. “How are ya, Penny?” It’s amazing how her demeanor changes in the presence of a man. “Hey, Mikey. I’m good. Just been workin’ a lot, ya know?”

Mikey nods, and Penny glances at me somewhat timidly. “This woman is trying to tell me she’s engaged to Noah.” “Wait…” Mikey waves a finger between me and Penny. “You mean you didn’t know about Lennon? Brad didn’t tell you?” Penny shakes her head and opens her mouth to respond, but Mikey cuts her off with a fake disappointed sigh. “I guess I’m not really surprised,” he says. “He hasn’t been around much lately, what with his new job and all. How’s that going for him, anyway?” “Good,” she says, looking back toward me, clearly wanting to redirect the conversation. “Good.” Mikey nods. “That’s good. Well,” he says, clapping a hand on the desk, “I’ll take Lennon down to Noah’s room before I go, if it’s all right with you.” Plopping down in her seat, Penny huffs. “Fine.” With a hand pressed to my back, Mikey guides me down the hall. “Thank you,” I whisper when I’m certain we’re out of earshot. “Are you kidding me? Noah should be thanking you. He’s been turning down Penny since the third grade, and now maybe she’ll get off of his back for good.” “Well, then…” I puff out my chest. “I’m glad I was able to help. But I’ll be honest; I thought for sure I lied to the wrong person. I was really worried there for a second.” “This is a small town, Lennon. The kind where everybody knows everybody, everybody thinks they know everything, and you can’t piss without it ending up in the paper or on Facebook. It’ll do you good to remember that.” “Does that mean—” “Yup.” He nods before I even finish. “Penny has probably already posted about it, tweeted it, Snapchatted it, and found a way to put it up on Instagram.” “Great.” I stare at the hospital door. “Now Noah’s really going to hate me, and we don’t even know each other.” “Nah. Noah’s pretty laid back.” I look up at him, cocking a brow. “Okay, he’s uptight, but he’ll see the humor in it,” he says, opening the door before quietly adding, “I think.” A man in a long, white coat is standing in the room, waving his hands as he talks to Noah, who is stretched out on the bed, his jeans and T-shirt now replaced by a green hospital gown. Noah’s eyes widen when he notices me walking into the room behind Mikey. “What is she doing here?” he says, cutting off the doctor. “She’s your fiancée; where else would she be?” We all turn toward the snide voice. Penny. Go figure, she must’ve followed us. She flits around the room. Doing what? No clue. Probably just being nosy. “Fiancée?” Noah looks from Penny to Mikey and narrows his eyes when they land on me. I’m going to go straight to hell. “It’s okay,” I soothe, sitting on the bed next to him. Smiling down, I brush his hair off of his forehead. It’s soft, and I let my fingers linger longer than necessary as I imagine what it would be like to belong to this man—to be able to touch him whenever I wanted, run my fingers through his shaggy hair, kiss him. The thoughts in my mind have no business being there, but I can’t help but wish for every single one. Feeling the weight of silence, I clear my throat. “I told her.” I glance at Penny, who is frowning. “And she’s not going to say anything, are you, Penny? Because we haven’t officially announced it yet.” Her eyes widen, guilt splattered across her face. “Uh…” “I’m so lost,” Noah mumbles, running a hand over his ruggedly handsome face. “Maybe I did hit my

head, doc.” “I’m sorry, I missed your name.” The young doctor sticks out his hand, which I quickly accept. “Lennon.” He smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, Lennon. My name is Dr. Ward, and I took care of your fiancé when he came in. In fact,” he says, looking at Noah, “I was just telling him what will need to be done once he gets home.” “Yes.” I turn toward the doctor, giving him my full attention like any dutiful fiancée would. “Please, fill me in.” “You don’t have to fill her in,” Noah says, trying to nudge me off the bed. “She’s not—” “Shush.” Pressing a finger against his mouth, I frown. So does Noah. “He absolutely will fill me in. Who else is going to take care of you?” He swats my hand away. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” “That’s not entirely true,” Dr. Ward interjects. “Fine.” Noah rolls his eyes. “I’ll have my mother come help me.” “She’s on vacation,” Mikey offers, holding his hands up in surrender when Noah shoots him a nasty glare. “Noah, this is good. You’ll need some assistance for a few days, someone to help you get around the house so you can stay off your ankle,” Dr. Ward says. “I’m good, doc, really.” He nudges me again, but I just wrap his hand in mine and kiss his knuckles adoringly. Noah furrows his brow and presses his lips together. His gaze on me is so powerful, I swear the man can hold a conversation with just his eyes. What the fuck are you up to? I squint at him, letting him know I’ve got the wheel right now. Play along or I’ll run you off the road again. Noah blows out a long, frustrated breath, and I know I’ve won him over. “Anyway.” The doctor clears his throat. “Noah sprained his ankle during the accident. Nothing is broken, but he did a number on it. He also has a laceration on his leg that we cleaned up. It didn’t need stitches, but I’d like for him to keep an eye on it, because we don’t want it to get infected. I’ll have Penny print out the instructions and give them to you.” I nod, and when Dr. Ward isn’t looking, Penny rolls her eyes. “I would like it if you could stay off your foot for a couple of days,” he says to Noah. “Your ankle needs rest and ice.” “Rest and Ice. Got it.” I turn to Noah. “I’ll just plan on staying with you for the next couple of days.” “He’s your fiancée,” Penny exclaims. “Don’t you live with him?” “No.” I might not be southern, but I do my best to tack on some southern belle charm. I press a hand to my chest, feigning disbelief. “Daddy would not approve of that. No shackin’ up until we’re married. Right, sweetie?” “Shackin’ up?” Noah says. “Whatever.” Penny walks out, followed by the doctor, and Mikey claps his hands together. “Well, folks, I’ve gotta get going.” He walks toward me and squeezes my shoulder. “Lennon, I’ll swing by Noah’s tonight and make sure you two don’t need anything.” “Wait. What?” Noah pulls his hand from mine and scowls up at Mikey. “She’s not really coming home with me.” “Yes, she is.” Mikey looks to me for confirmation, and I nod. “How else would you get home? You don’t have your bike, and your parents are out of town.” “You,” Noah says. “You can take me home.”

“Sorry, man. Can’t. Gotta finish my shift. Plus, there’s no way in hell I’m taking care of your ass.” “But you’re a fucking paramedic.” Mikey shrugs. “So? I do that shit all day long. I don’t want to do it when I’m off. Plus, Lennon here has already volunteered to take care of your gimp ass.” “This is a fucking joke.” Noah clenches his hands against the sheet. “She caused all of this,” he says, waving toward his ankle. “If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t even be here.” “And that’s exactly why I want you to let me help,” I plead. “I feel horrible. I promise I’ll take really good care of you, and I won’t get in your way at all. And I won’t really move in for the next few days; I’ll just come by and make sure you don’t need anything, maybe cook dinner for you.” This isn’t exactly how I’d planned to spend my first few days in Heaven, but I like the idea of taking care of someone. Particularly this someone. “You don’t even know me,” he argues. I stick my hand out to shake his, and all he does is scowl. Mikey shoves an elbow into his arm and finally, reluctantly, Noah shakes my hand. Mikey smiles. “Noah, meet Lennon, your fiancée.” “Fuck.” Noah groans, dropping his head back on the pillow, and Mikey shoots me a wink.

“Turn here.” Putting on my blinker, I turn left as Noah guides me through town. “Now where?” I ask. “Just keep going.” Other than giving me directions, Noah hasn’t said a word. No “Thank you for the ride home,” or “I’m sorry for being such an ass earlier.” I can probably forgive him for not saying the latter, considering the accident was my fault, but come on, the silent treatment? Rolling my window down, I turn up the radio, enjoying the warm, salty air as it whips through the car. Everyone looks happier here. People are rollerblading, riding bikes, and walking along the beach. It’s different than the city where people are rushing past each other to get to their destination. It’s almost like time has found a way to slow down here, and I like it. So much so that it’ll be difficult to go back to New York when the time comes—if it ever comes. Heaven is the type of place you come to when you want to settle down and raise a family. I might not be ready for kids, but I’m ready to find a place I can call home. My eyes drift toward the beach. The waves are crashing against the shore before being sucked back out. The sounds are soothing, and definitely something I could get used to. “Eyes on the road,” Noah snaps, making me jump. “Don’t do that.” Good Lord, he’s lucky I didn’t drive off the road. “You were gawking this morning, weren’t you? That’s why you ran me off the road.” The way he says it makes me feel about an inch tall, and I sigh. “I’m sorry about today, and I’m sorry about your bike. I’ll pay for the damage.” Noah doesn’t say anything, just sits quietly with his arms folded across his broad chest like a big, brooding baby. Only he isn’t a baby at all. He’s a delicious-looking man with more muscles than I’ve got handbags, and I’ve got a ton of handbags. The winding road curves through town, and just about the time I feel like we’re reaching city limits,

Noah instructs me to turn. “That’s my driveway,” he says, pointing off to the right. “Wow.” My lips part, my eyes following the gravel drive that leads to a beautiful home. Stoneaccented brick with big, wooden pillars along the wrap-around porch—it looks like place out of a storybook. “It’s gorgeous.” “Thank you.” He motions for me to pull up next to an older-looking car. “Your Nova?” Head tilted, Noah looks at me. “Huh?” “Is that your Nova?” I may not be a car girl by any means, but anyone can identify a classic car, and that’s definitely a classic car. “My Nova.” He says the words slowly before shaking his head, almost as though he was thinking about something…or someone maybe? “No, that’s my Chevelle.” “It’s pretty.” Putting the car in park, I slide out and rush to Noah’s door so I can help him. Which, of course, he doesn’t let me do. “What is it with you and things being pretty? That car is not pretty.” “Sexy?” I offer. That earns me the tiniest smile. “Better.” I reach for his arm, hoping to give him support, but he swats me away. Stupid man. If he bites the dust, I absolutely will not help him up. We walk side by side to the front door. Well, I walk. Noah hobbles. He manages to maneuver his way up the three steps leading to his front door, and he unlocks it before turning toward me. “Thank you for driving me home, but there’s really no need for you to stay.” “Yes, there is,” I say, pulling his discharge paperwork out of my purse. “You have to elevate your ankle and ice it two to three times a day, and this says you need to stay off of it, which means—” Noah grabs the paperwork from my hand. “Lennon,” he says, sounding annoyed. “I appreciate the help, but I’m a grown-ass man, and I can take care of myself. I don’t need you or anyone else. I’ve had worse injuries than a sprained ankle, and I’ve managed just fine. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go inside, get some rest, and try to salvage what’s left of my weekend.” My shoulders deflate, along with a tiny, itty-bitty piece of my confidence, and maybe a little chunk of my pride. I’ve been kind, gone out of my way to be nice and take care of him—the least I can do after this morning—but he seems more irritated than grateful. “Okay. Yeah, I get it. Sorry…about today.” “It’s okay,” he says, probably grateful that he’s about to get rid of me. “You do have a place to stay, right?” “Yes.” I nod. Although it hits me that I have absolutely no idea where that place is. And then I remember that when I find it, I’ll be completely alone—in a strange town, in a strange house, by myself. Pressure builds behind my eyes as the weight of the day and, hell, the whole damn week comes crashing down around me, and I look down, desperate to keep the tears from falling. “I, uh…I should probably get going. I still need to find it and then hit the grocery store.” “Where are you staying? I can try to tell you how to get there.” “I’m not sure. I’ll just plug the address into the GPS on my phone.” Digging my phone out of my purse, I step away and pretend to know what I’m doing. I really don’t. Brenna already has it programmed, but Noah doesn’t need to know that. “Hmm…” “What?” Noah asks. “It’s not far. I shouldn’t have any problems.” Without another word, I get in my car and back up. Peeking through my rearview mirror, I see that Noah is still standing on his front porch. I sit there for a

few seconds, hoping he’ll go inside, but he doesn’t. This should be interesting. Looking at my phone, I follow the map, watching as the little blue marker on my screen guides me. I drive to the end of the driveway and turn right, as instructed, following the road forty or fifty feet before stopping in front of another driveway, this one leading up to a quaint little white house with black shutters. There’s a large front porch with a wooden rocking chair tucked in the corner, and I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. I’ve always wanted a porch and a rocking chair. Pulling up to the garage, I put my car in park and step out. Turning toward Noah, across the yard, I shrug. “Home sweet home,” I say, motioning toward the house. Happenstance at its finest. He stares at me blankly for a few seconds before turning toward his front door, and although I can’t hear him, I can clearly make out the two words that pass through his lips as he walks inside, still looking my way. “Fuck me.”



“Leni,” Brenna growls, causing me to flinch. “When I told you to stay out of the news, I didn’t just mean in New York. The last thing your father needs right now is something like this.” I knew I shouldn’t have told her about the accident. I love Brenna to death, I really do, but she worries about everything. Granted, it’s her job to worry about everything, being my father’s publicist, but sometimes she crosses the line. “I wasn’t in the news—” “Not yet you weren’t.” She sighs at the same time I shove a bite of pizza in my mouth. “I just really need you stay off the radar.” Now I’m pissed. I’ve bent over backward, apologized for the stupid fucking night that got me sent here until I’m blue in the face, but it doesn’t matter. Tossing the pizza crust in the box, I stand up. “I made one mistake, Brenna. One. And it really wasn’t even my fault, yet you make it out as though I’m the worst daughter in the entire world.” “Leni—” “No. You know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you right now. I have a hair appointment I need to get to.” I don’t really have a hair appointment, but I plan on making one so it’s a legitimate excuse. “Plus it’s been a long, shitty day, and the last thing I need is to be lectured by you. I’m a grown woman, Brenna. I left because my father asked me to, and I don’t want to cause him any more problems. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and listen to you try to tell me what to do.” Right before I hang up, I lay the guilt on thick, mostly because I can…and I’m upset. “I know you work for my dad, but we were friends first, Brenna, and if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even have the damn job.” She says something, but I don’t hear a word of it because I mash my thumb against the screen, ending the call. Within seconds, my phone chimes with an incoming text, but I ignore it because I know it’s Brenna, demanding that I call her back. Instead, I power my phone off, stack a few pieces of pizza on a paper plate, and cover it with plastic wrap. After I left Noah’s house earlier, I went grocery shopping and then splurged on a large pizza. I ate half of it, and knowing Noah probably hasn’t eaten anything, I planned to drop the rest off. I also picked up a box of chocolate chip cookies as a peace offering. I’m hoping if I can talk to him again, I can convince him to let me help out. Grabbing my purse, I stack the pizza on top of the cookie box and make the short walk across the yard to his front door. I ring the doorbell and wait. Then I wait some more. Good grief. I figured he’d be slow, but this is a little exaggerated.

“Noah?” This time I knock. “It’s me, Lennon.” Nothing. The crickets might as well be chirping because I don’t hear a damn thing coming from his house—not even a big thud signaling that he’s fallen while trying to get up. I knock once more before calling it quits. “I’m leaving some food out here for you,” I say, hoping he can hear me. Setting the box and plate down on the porch swing, I pull an old receipt and pen out of my purse and scribble a quick note. Thought you might be hungry. Don’t eat it all at once and save me a cookie ; ) Call if you need anything. Lennon I scribble my number on the note, situate it under the cookie box, and reluctantly walk away. Going home isn’t really an option. That little house is way too quiet for my liking. A few minutes later here I am, driving through town, looking for something to occupy my evening. There are all sorts of quaint shops and restaurants lining the strip, but it’s a bright neon sign off to the left that catches my attention. Whipping my car down a side street, I pull into the empty lot. A bright pink neon sign flashes TEASE. A bell dings when I open the front door. A large, wooden desk takes up the front entrance area. A mahogany shelf is tucked in the corner, stocked with a wide variety of hair products. The walls are bright pink, and Michael Bublé wafts from the speakers, his soulful voice in stark contrast to the bright, fun environment of the salon. There are four stations set up for stylists, but no one around. I stand for a few seconds before calling out, “Hello?” “Be right there,” a delicate voice hollers. Before I know it, a young woman, probably close to my age, walks around the corner and stops in her tracks as soon as she sees me. What I expect is a warm greeting. What I’m not prepared for is the high-pitched squeal that comes out of her mouth. “Oh my gosh,” she says, rushing toward me. “You’re Leni Barrick! I can’t believe this.” Stopping in front of me, she looks me over as if trying to convince herself that it’s really me standing here. For a split second I’m hopeful that I can convince her otherwise, because this is exactly what I wanted to avoid by coming here. I shake my head no. “I get that a lot, but I’m not Leni.” “Yes, you are,” she insists. “I would know. I watched every single episode of Raising Ellen.” Raising Ellen was a tiny little show I starred in from the ages of thirteen to fifteen before ratings plummeted, ending my short-lived acting career—something I was absolutely okay with, but my A-listcelebrity mother was not. How this woman recognizes me all of these years later, I have no idea. I shake my head again, but she’s having none of it. “I’d recognize you anywhere. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe Leni Barrick is standing in my salon. I have to call Rachel,” she says, swiping her phone off of the front counter. “She’s gonna freak!” “Wait.” Without thinking, I yank the phone out of her hand and hold it to my chest. “Please don’t call Rachel,” I plead. “No one can know I’m here.” The woman smiles. “That’s gonna be sort of hard, don’t you think?” “Not really, no. That show ended years ago.” Her smile drops, a look of panic washing across her face. “Yes, but people still know who you are,” she says, stepping behind the counter. She digs and digs before jumping up and tossing a People magazine in my face. “Right here you made the front page!” “Okay, yes, I’m aware,” I say, shoving the magazine away because Lord knows I don’t want to relive that horrific memory. “That’s why I’m here.” “In my salon?” “No, in Heaven.” “Oh,” she says, nodding her head before shaking it. “I don’t get it.” Lord, help me.

“What did you say your name was?” “Charlotte.” “I love that name,” I say, earning yet another blinding smile. “Charlotte, do you have time to do my hair? And while you’re doing it, I’ll explain all about why I’m here and trying to fly under the radar.” Something about Charlotte feels strangely familiar and comfortable. It seems manageable to tell a friendly female why I’m in Heaven. Hell, she probably already knows. It’ll be much easier than telling a hot guy who’s pissed off because I nearly ran him over. “Wait.” Her eyes go wide. “You want me to do your hair?” “Yes, do you have time?” “Do I have time?” she says. “Even if I was in labor I’d make time.” Grabbing my arm, she leads me into the salon and ushers me to a large, black chair. “First,” she says, draping a cape around my neck. “Tell me what you want done.” Curling my nose, I flick the ends of my hair. “Lets take these extensions out, and from there I just need you to make me not look like…me.” A sly smile stretches across Charlotte’s face. “So you want something fresh, something Leni Barrick would never do.” “Right.” I pause. “Well, within reason. Don’t shave my head or anything.” “Got it.” She pins a section of hair on the top of my head and starts working. “No shaved head.” “Bye bye, Leni Barrick. Hello, Lennon St. James.” Her hands freeze, and she looks up. “Who’s Lennon St. James?” “Me. Lennon Barrick-St. James. That’s my full name. Everyone who knows me knows me as Leni Barrick. So for now, I’m just going back to being Lennon St. James.” “Oh, right. Okay. Well, I know all about Leni. How about you tell me all about Lennon?” And right here is where our friendship starts. We spend the next three hours talking and laughing. I tell her the sordid tale of why I came to Heaven, and she listens with a patient ear, nodding and agreeing, offering her two cents every once in a while, and managing not to be too biased at all by what she’s already read in the rag mags. It doesn’t take long for me to fall head over heels in love with her. She’s the type of friend I’ve always wanted. The type of friend I’ve never had. After I told her all about me, she went on to tell me about her life. Charlotte had a rough childhood. After the death of her parents she was passed between family members before eventually becoming a ward of the state. She worked her ass off to get through college and open up this salon. She lives paycheck to paycheck, but she’s never been happier. I go on to tell her about the charity I started, Children Everywhere, and how it’s designed to help children who’ve gone through the same things she has. She seems almost more impressed by that than she was by the fact that I’m Leni Barrick. We laugh and talk, and when she spins the chair so I can look at the new me, I’m convinced she’s a fairy godmother in disguise. “So,” she says, barely containing her excitement. “What do you think? I know it’s not New York or Hollywood quality, but—” “Stop it.” I cut her off because she certainly does not need to be putting herself down. Lips parted, I run my fingers through my hair, amazed at how silky it is. “I love it.” “You do? Really?” “Yes,” I breathe, in awe of what she’s done. The extensions are gone, and she cut easily five inches off the length. My straight, boring hair is now tapered in a long stack that starts at the base of my neck and gets longer toward the front, dipping past my chin. It’s sleek, smooth, and nothing like I would’ve ever done before.

“What about the color? Is it too much? I tried to take you back to your natural shade. You were beautiful as a blonde, but now…” Admiring her work, Charlotte runs her fingers through my hair. “You’re even more stunning.” I’ve been a platinum blonde since the day my mother got her hands on my hair—well, her stylist’s hands—but after seeing this, I’ll never go back. “It looks like caramel.” Charlotte laughs. “It totally does. You’re the perfect shade of dirty blond.” I shake my head from side to side, watching the mirror as my hair bounces around. “So? Do I look like Leni Barrick?” “Well, I would still be able to pick you out of a crowd, but I don’t think anyone else would.” “Considering you’ve been the only one to recognize me, I think I’ll be okay.” Although over the years there have been a few random people, like Charlotte, who recognize me from time to time, most people don’t know who I am. My mom and dad are a totally different story, but me? I’m virtually a nobody. Reaching in my purse, I grab my wallet. “How much do I owe you?” Charlotte quickly waves me off. “No. You’re not paying me.” “I most certainly am.” I pull out a couple of hundred-dollar bills, the equivalent of what I would pay back home, and Charlotte’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Please,” she begs. “I don’t want to take your money. I swear I had more fun doing your hair than I’ve had in a long time. Just promise me that next time you need something done, you’ll come back.” “I wouldn’t dare go anywhere else.” With an exchange of phone numbers and a promise to get together soon for dinner, Charlotte walks me out to my car before heading back inside to lock up for the night. I start my car and power up my phone. Instantly it chirps with four new text messages. The first two are from Brenna, as I expected. Brenna: Please call me back. Brenna: Really? Now you’re not answering your phone? Real mature, Leni. Rolling my eyes, I delete both messages and pull up the next one. It’s from an unknown number. 555-9923: Thank you. Two words. And I know exactly who they’re from. I grin, and that grin doubles in size when I see his next text. 555-9923: I saved you a cookie. But then I ate it.



“Hey, Mikey!” I yell, stepping out the front door and off my porch. He’s sitting on Noah’s front porch swing, sipping what looks like a cup of coffee, and when I approach, he pats the swing, inviting me to sit down. When I oblige, Mikey points to the container in my hand. “Whatcha got there?” “Blueberry muffins. Would you like one?” I hold them out, but he shakes his head. “Thank you, but I ate breakfast before I came over here.” Mikey downs the rest of his coffee and hands me the cup. “Would you take that inside with you when you go?” I nod and grab the cup. “Noah’s going to love those, by the way,” he says, pushing up from the swing. As he steps off the porch he adds, “Front door is open. If he gives you a hard time, just tell him I let you in.” I follow him toward the edge of the porch. “Where are you going?” “Work,” he says. “Always work.” Mikey gives me a quick wave, and I watch as he gets in his car and pulls out of the driveway. Without knocking, I push open Noah’s door. I’m not a total creeper, though. This is his home, which I haven’t really been invited to, so I holler an obligatory, “Knock, knock” as I peek my head around the corner. I look to the left, but the living room is empty. I turn to the right to find Noah standing in the kitchen, doing the dishes. Good Lord, that man is sexy. And it happens again, those thoughts I shouldn’t be having. Track pants hang low on Noah’s hips, and since he isn’t wearing a shirt, every last muscle in his back is on full display. I wonder what I’d do if I got to wake up to that every morning? I probably wouldn’t get a single thing done because this view would inevitably lead to crazy-hot kitchen sex. I swallow, watching the muscles in his back move beneath smooth skin. I’ve never been one to ogle a back before, but I’d gladly ogle his for hours if it were socially acceptable. With each move of his arms, another muscle makes itself known, and I blink in awe of how perfect Noah’s body is. Finally, he looks over his shoulder. Eyes narrowed, he watches me a for a beat and then asks, “Would you like to see the front too?” He cocks a brow, and my cheeks heat up. The new me wants to say, Yes, actually, I’d love to see the front. Thank you for offering, but I’m not feeling quite that brazen this morning, so I do the next best thing: I clear my throat and ignore the question altogether. “Mind if I come in?”

“A little late to ask, don’t you think?” I’m going to ignore that too. “Mikey said to let myself in.” Shutting the door, I walk toward Noah and hand him Mikey’s coffee cup, which he takes and puts in the sink. I offer him the container of muffins, which he doesn’t take. “I brought blueberry muffins; thought you might be hungry.” Noah looks longingly at the muffins, but then his face hardens, and he crosses his arms over his chiseled chest. “I don’t like blueberry muffins.” “Mikey said you’d love them.” His jaw ticks. “Well, Mikey was wrong.” “Okay.” I put the container on the kitchen table and turn to him. “I can make you something else to eat. Pancakes, maybe?” “I don’t like pancakes.” “How about cinnamon rolls?” “Too sweet.” “Bacon?” “I don’t want you to make me breakfast,” he growls. “I don’t want your help at all. What I want is for you to go back wherever you came from.” Ouch. I take a step back, and Noah drops his head. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to.” Fuck him. A girl can only take so much. If he doesn’t want my help, I’m not going to waste another second on his ass, and my brain better get the damn message and quit having those inappropriate thoughts. Grabbing the muffins off the table, I make a beeline for the door. “You’re an asshole, Noah Cunningham.” “Wait,” he calls, but I keep walking. “Lennon, wai—shit.” Noah’s words are cut off by a loud thud, and I spin around to find him slumped over a kitchen chair, his foot dangling above the floor. “You’re not even supposed to be standing,” I scold, my anger dissolving into concern. Dropping the muffin container on the coffee table, I go to him, wrap an arm around his back, and help him to the couch. And I swear I don’t cop a feel of all those muscles I’ve been ogling. Without a word, I help him get situated, pull up an ottoman, prop his foot there, and slide off his sock. Fuck me, even his foot is sexy, minus the swollen ankle that is now the ugliest shade of purple. I draw the line at ogling feet. It will not happen. Standing, I rush to the kitchen, hell bent on getting out of here. After dumping some ice in a bag, I wrap it in a towel and take it to Noah. He’s watching me as I move around—I can feel it—but I refuse to make eye contact with him because my feelings are hurt, and I’m still kind of pissed at the way he spoke to me. With a gentle touch, I situate the ice around his ankle. “Leave this on for twenty minutes, and then take it off.” I stand and reach for the muffins, but Noah scoops them up. “Give me the muffins.” I hold out my hand, but he shakes his head. “Not until you let me explain.” “Explain what?” It’s official; I’ve lost my cool. I’ve spent my entire life perfecting manners, and this man has managed to break me in a matter of seconds. “Explain why you’re an asshole? No, thank you. I’ve had enough of those in my life; I don’t need another one. Funny enough, I thought you’d be different, southern hospitality and all that. My mistake.” “Lennon—” “No.” I try to grab the muffins from him, but he’s got a death grip. “Give me the muffins.” “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean I don’t want to hear whatever it is you feel the need to say.” Oh man, that was good. I’m really proud of myself for standing my ground. This definitely deserves a pint of ice cream when I get home. Or hell, maybe I’ll eat this whole damn container of muffins. “Lennon—” “It’s Ms. St. James to you,” I snap, jerking on the container only to have him jerk it equally as hard. Noah smirks—actually fucking smirks—and I’ll be damned if I’m not tempted to let go of the container just so I can smack the look right off his face. “If you’d let me talk—” “I don’t want to let you talk,” I grunt, giving the container one last tug. It’s no use. I let the muffins go, and Noah falls back on the couch with a soft oomph. “I’ve been nothing but sweet to you.” “That’s the problem,” he says, exasperated. “You’re too damn sweet.” The words tumble from his mouth, and I can tell he didn’t mean to say them because he pinches his lips together as if he could somehow draw them back in. “That’s not a bad thing, Noah. Usually if you’re nice to people, they’re nice back. You should try it sometime.” Damn. She is sexy as hell when she’s all fired up. Maybe it’s the shouting, or the fact that she’s within close proximity and my body is buzzing the way it did when she wrapped her legs around me on the side of the road. It’s also entirely possible that the fresh smell of her perfume has somehow drugged me. Whatever it is, something causes me to snap. “I can’t be nice to you,” I shout back. Lennon throws her hands up. “Why? You don’t even know me.” “Because I want to know you, damn it!” Lennon’s eyes widen, her lips forming a perfect little O. Shit, I can’t believe I just said that. But it’s true. Every word out of those perfect lips makes me want to know more, makes me crave more. And I can’t give in to that. Closing my eyes, I run a hand through my hair. “That’s a bad thing?” Her voice is softer, and much closer than before. When the couch dips beside me, I look up. “It’s a dangerous thing,” I say, correcting her. “Why?” Those big, blue, innocent eyes are my undoing, and despite all of the lies forming on the tip of my tongue, I can’t do anything but tell her the truth. “Because you just might be the most beautiful and frustrating woman I’ve ever met.” “You think I’m beautiful?” Her voice is coated in disbelief, the annoyance and anger from moments ago gone. “Absolutely.” The breath hitches in her throat, and I suddenly want to keep talking just to see if I can get her to make that little noise again. “You’re beautiful, Lennon. You have to know that, but that’s not why I find you attractive.” She scoots closer on the couch, causing the buzz to grow stronger. “It’s not?” “No.” Beautiful girls in Texas are a dime a dozen. I should know, considering I’ve hooked up with my fair

share of them. But Lennon, she’s different. There’s a side to her that turns me the fuck on—a side I haven’t seen in a woman, well, ever. “I’m attracted to you because you were willing to drop everything to take care of a complete stranger even when he’s being an unreasonable asshole, and you brought me food. I’m sorry I ate your cookie, by the way. And I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you.” It wasn’t that I was mad she was moving in next door; it wasn’t even that I didn’t want her help. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. I do want her help, and more than that, I want to fuck her. Bad. And that’s where the problem lies. She’s sexy, sweet, and compassionate, and nothing good can come from that sort of combination. There’s only one thing I can offer a girl like Lennon, and it isn’t at all what she deserves. I knew from the moment she ran across the highway and fell to her knees next to me that Lennon could be a distraction, and one I most definitely don’t have time for. “You’re forgiven.” She smiles and then knocks me on my ass when she says, “And I’m attracted to you too.” “See?” I point at her. “Blunt honesty, another thing I like. I didn’t need to know that. That just makes this so much worse.” “But why?” Lennon furrows her brow, and damn it, now I want to reach out and smooth the lines of worry, bring the smile back to her face and see if I can get another little sound that makes my dick twitch. “Because I already have someone in my life. And she’s my whole life.” Lennon gasps, covering her mouth. “Oh my God,” she mumbles, slowly lowering her hand. “You’re married.” Okay, I could have phrased that better. “I’m not married.” She sighs, mumbling something about not going to hell, and looks up. “Girlfriend?” “No girlfriend.” “Then who?” Visions of dark curls, belly laughs, and a big, toothy smile dance in my head, and my heart swells. “I have a daughter. Her name is Nova.” “A daughter.” Lennon’s eyes soften. “Nova,” she says, as though she’s trying the name on for size. “It’s unique, sort of like Lennon. I like it. Where is she now?” “My parents took her on a camping trip. They’ll be back later this week.” Since I can’t get up at the moment, I point toward a picture on the mantle. “That’s her up there.” Lennon stands and grabs the picture. She studies it for several seconds before looking at me. “She has your eyes. And your nose. She’s adorable, Noah. Absolutely adorable.” “Thank you.” Lennon stares at the picture for a beat longer before putting it back. She turns to me, one eyebrow cocked. “So Nova isn’t your car?” I do feel a little guilty about leading her to believe that, but in my defense, she was a complete stranger and didn’t need to know I had a child. Scrunching my nose, I shake my head. “You lied to me.” My mouth drops open. Is she serious? “You told the entire town you’re my fiancée.”



Shit. I forgot about that. “No,” I correct. “I told Penny I was your fiancée.” “Same difference. Point is, you lied too.” “You’re right.” I drop down on the couch next to Noah. It’s only ten a.m., and already I feel drained. “So we’re both liars who are insanely attracted to each other, and now we’re next-door neighbors. Where in the world are we supposed to go from here?” “I have no idea.” He slumps back on the couch, his eyes searching mine. “I guess the answer is pretty easy. We’re both adults, right? And we’ve already established that we’re attracted to each other. Isn’t this what single adults do? Find someone they’re attracted to and act on it? So really, we’re just adulting.” “I can’t adult.” “Sure you can. It’s easy. Watch.” I scoot forward on the couch, inching my way closer to him in the process. “I like you, Noah, and I haven’t liked anyone in a long time. Would you like to go to dinner with me?” I fold my trembling hands together in my lap, trying to hide my nerves. It took a lot for me to do that. I’ve never asked a guy out, and I have to give props to the girls who do it all the time, because that shit is hard. But what’s even harder is seeing the look on the guy’s face and realizing he’s about to reject you. Noah’s face is awash with pity and guilt, and it’s like tiny pin pricks to my wounded heart. This is most definitely not something I ever want to experience again. “You know what?” I wave my hand in the air. “Forget I asked that.” I push up from the couch, but Noah snags my wrist, pulling me back down. “If I could say yes, I would.” Well, that should make me feel better. Except it doesn’t. “But you can’t?” Noah takes a deep breath and blows it out. “I own my own business. Most weeks I work more than full time, and to top it off, I’m a single father. Honestly, I don’t have time to date.” “So, what? You’ve been celibate since Nova was born?” “No,” he says carefully. “I just don’t date.” It takes a second for his words to sink in, but when they do, I nod. “Got it. You have flings.” “One-night stand, fling, whatever you want to call it.” He looks over my shoulder before bringing his eyes back to mine. “And that makes me sound like an even bigger asshole, doesn’t it?” I wish, because that would make it easier to walk away.

“No, it makes you sound human.” “You’re not a fling kind of girl, Lennon, and I’m not sure I’m ready to share my time with anyone but Nova. Truthfully, I’m not ready to share her either. For the past five years it’s just been the two of us, and I like it like that. Plus, I don’t want to bring someone into her life just to have them leave. She’s been through enough.” I open my mouth to ask more, but Noah cuts me off. “So no, as much as I want to, I can’t go to dinner with you unless it’s strictly as friends. And even then, there has to be a no-touching, no-flirting, no-looking-sexy rule.” He grins. “I have a feeling if you’re part of the equation, that’s going to be really fucking hard.” I can’t help it; I smile. Noah rejected me, and I’m smiling at him. Because I get it. I understand where he’s coming from. I may not agree with it, but I get it. “So, friends?” I ask. “I’d like that.” Noah’s grin blossoms into a full smile, drawing my attention exactly where it shouldn’t be: his mouth. Full lips stretched across straight teeth and a dimple in his left cheek that I would totally want to lick if we were adulting. Which we’re not. “I don’t think I’ve ever been friends with a girl,” he adds. Still thinking about the dimple, I shake my head. “Yeah, it doesn’t really work out well. We should probably just hook up now and get it over with.” The look on his face is priceless. His mouth drops open, and then he snaps it shut. “Lennon,” he warns, his voice low and hard. “Sorry.” I hold my hands up. “Sorry. It won’t happen again. Can’t blame a girl for trying, though.” I’m not sorry at all. Not in the least. “So, does this mean you’ll let me help around the house now?” I ask. “At least until Nova gets back? Because I really do feel bad about the accident. Plus, it’ll give me something to do. I’m bored as hell over there,” I say, pointing toward my new little home. “I would like that.” So, that’s what I do. In between Game of Thrones episodes, I do whatever I can to help around the house and keep Noah off of his foot, which I quickly realize is a difficult task. It becomes crystal clear real fast that Noah is a do-it-yourself kind of person. Lucky for him, I’m here to shove him back in the chair every time he tries to get up. The afternoon flies by. Between vacuuming, mopping, and doing the dishes, Noah and I talk a lot. Mostly mundane stuff—nothing too personal because heaven forbid we venture into adulting territory. And I see no reason to tell him why I’m here. Not yet, at least. Noah tells me this house used to be his grandmother’s and he practically grew up here. He inherited it after her death and moved in the same week Nova was born. He goes on to tell me all about Heaven and what it has to offer, including his favorite restaurants and shops. When I collapse on the couch at the end of the day, he tells me about the small automotive shop he owns in town. Only it really isn’t all that small. From the sound of it, Noah is making quite the name for himself. Hands resting behind his head, he frowns. “I’m overbooked and understaffed.” “Well, that’s a good thing, right?” I ask. “Job security.” “Yes, but I can’t tell anyone no. I don’t like to turn down business, and neither does my secretary, who’s about to go on maternity leave,” he says, laughing. “Hence the ‘more than full time’ work status you were telling me about?” “Exactly.” “Why don’t you just hire more staff?”

“Sounds easy, I know, but I’m a bit of a stickler. I won’t hire just anyone.” “Hire me,” I blurt. “I can help out while she’s gone.” Narrowing his eyes, Noah shakes his head. “That would be a disaster. Working with someone I’m attracted to? I’d have a walking hard on every fucking day.” A smile pulls at my lips, and my heart stammers in my chest. I like that he’s attracted to me and I turn him on. Makes me think someday he could overcome this notion that we should be just friends. Because I think we could be far more than that. “I get it. But the offer is there if you change your mind,” I say, my words fading into a yawn. Noah rests his head back on the couch. “Tired?” “Exhausted. I should probably get going.” A look passes over his face. I can’t quite place it, but it’s almost as though he doesn’t want me to leave. Unfortunately, I know he won’t ask me to stay. I gather my belongings and head to the front door. “I’ll stop by in the morning.” With my hand on the doorknob, Noah calls to me. “Lennon?” I glance over my shoulder. His eyes dance around my face, and for a second I think that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong, and he is going to ask me to stay. “Would you mind giving me a ride in to work tomorrow? I need to check out the damage on my bike, get it in somewhere to get fixed, and reschedule a few appointments.” Disappointed, I nod. “Sure thing.” “Goodnight, Lennon.” “‘Night.” The walk home is short. My house is quiet and empty as I get ready for bed, but my head replays our entire day together. I’m about to silence my phone for the night when it pings with an incoming text. I grin when Noah’s words come into view. Noah: I forgot to tell you thank you for your help, and your hair looks sexy as fuck. I type out a quick reply. Me: Are you flirting with me, Mr. Cunningham? Because that’s against the rules. Noah: I’m feeling rebellious. I hope he feels rebellious more often. Me: Goodnight, Noah



“Get up.” Planting my fists firmly on my hips, I glare at Noah. He’s on one of those rolling things under a car, so he can’t really see me scowl, but I assure you, I am scowling. Noah’s feet are propped up and his knees bent, but all I can see is the lower half of his body. And the lower half of his body looks damn good. His faded jeans are tight, showing off muscular thighs, and then there’s the small sliver of skin between his jeans and where his shirt has ridden up. I can’t really see much except the happy trail leading — “Lennon.” I blink. “Hmm?” Noah rolls out from under the car, and my heart starts pounding in my chest. Dark strands of hair flop in front of his eye, and when he brushes them away, he leaves a black smear along his cheek. This man is really too handsome for his own good. No one should look edible covered in grease, but by God, I’m tempted to call it chocolate, climb on up, and lick it off of him. “Stop looking at me like that,” he says, his voice low and husky. “I can’t help it,” I whisper. Noah grins, shakes his head, and slides back under the car. Then I remember what I was doing to begin with. “Noah!” I yell. He slides back out, eyebrows raised. “You shouldn’t be working.” Without a word, he slides back under the car. Looking around the shop, I find another roller board thingy and do what any woman would do in my situation. I lay down and slide under the car. Noah doesn’t move when I appear next to him. In fact, he’s still grinning. “Can I help you?” he asks. “It’s dirty under here,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “It’s the undercarriage of a car,” he says dryly. “Here, hold this.” He passes me a long, silver thingy. Almost immediately he grabs it out of my hand and then seconds later gives it back. “Could you grab me a ratchet?” he asks. “Sure.” Without thinking, I sit up, only to smack my head on the car. “Oh, shit! Fuck me.” I wince, rubbing at my forehead. Tears fill my eyes, a few of them escaping. “Shit, that hurt.” Noah is out from under the car first. He grabs hold of my ankles, pulls me out, and yanks me up to

inspect my forehead. “Are you okay?” I am now that you’re touching me. “No,” I whimper, holding on to my head. “Jesus Christ, Noah. What the hell did you do to the girl?” Tommy says, walking up to see what all of the commotion is about. Tommy is one of Noah’s four mechanics. He’s a younger guy, probably fresh out of school, but he seems nice. “He didn’t do anything. I tried to sit up—forgot I was under the car.” “You can’t do that,” Tommy says. Squinting, I look up to see him trying to suppress a smile. “Are you smiling?” “No, ma’am.” He shakes his head, pulling his lips between his teeth. I narrow my eyes and bury my face in Noah’s chest because my head is killing me, and not at all because I want to get closer to him, or because I love the way he smells. “Hurts.” The throbbing in my head is instantly gone when Noah wraps an arm around my waist—funny how that happened—securing me in his lap. “Tommy, can you have Sara grab an ice pack out of the break room?” “She’s at lunch. I’ll grab it, boss.” “Let me see.” Noah tries to pry my hand away from my head, but I resist. “Lennon,” he says, chuckling. “Let me see it.” “This is your fault,” I mumble. “How is this my fault?” “Because, you bamboozled me.” “I bamboozled you?” he asks. “You told me we were coming down here to check on your bike—” “Which I did,” he interjects. “Yes, but as soon as I had my back turned, you made a beeline for the shop. You came here to work.” “You’re right,” he confesses. “There are a few things I can do without putting too much weight on my foot, and I thought I could get them done.” He nudges my shoulder again. “Let me see your head.” This time I let him look at my forehead. Noah’s eyes widen. “Holy shit.” “What?” I reach for my head, but Noah slaps my hand away. “Oh my God, what? Why are you looking at me like that?” Noah busts up laughing. It’s a full-blown belly laugh, deep and raspy, that shoots straight to my core. “Go ahead.” I cross my arms over my chest, completely ignoring the tingling between my legs. “Laugh. Get it all out.” That makes him laugh harder. He gasps, trying to catch his breath. I slap his arm. “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny.” “I’m sorry,” he says, sucking in air. “You’re right; it isn’t funny. But you should’ve seen the look on your face.” “You don’t look sorry.” I scowl. Noah laughs again, and Tommy saves the day. “Come on, Lennon.” Tommy helps me out of Noah’s lap and guides me into the office and over to a plush chair. Tenderly, he holds an ice pack to my head. “Thank you, but I can get it.” I replace Tommy’s hand with mine and close my eyes. A couple of seconds pass, and when the throbbing starts to simmer down I ask, “Do I have a big goose egg?”

A chair squeaks next to me when Tommy sits down. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt my feelings. I probably look like I’m trying to sprout a horn,” I say. “You still look as beautiful as ever.” My eyes pop open when I hear Noah’s smooth voice. He gently guides the ice pack off of my head as I glance around for Tommy. “He went back to work.” Ever so slowly, Noah brushes his thumb across the bump on my head. “You really shouldn’t hurt yourself,” he says softly. “I don’t like it.” Something in the room shifts. The temperature maybe? My body definitely heats. The smell of aftershave and grease tickles my senses. This man is overwhelming and intoxicating, and I can’t help but lean closer to him, the pull in my belly impossible to ignore. “Yes, well, that makes two of us,” I note. His thumb continues stroking slowly back and forth. The air around us thickens, our breath mingles, and with each passing second, the urge to kiss him grows stronger. I’m tempted to pull away, break whatever spell he has me under, but I don’t want to do that. What I want is him. “I’m not allowed to kiss you, right?” I ask quietly. “Because that would be against the rules?” Noah’s eyes drop to my mouth. “Right,” he says, nodding. I lean forward just a fraction, the pull strengthening as his gaze darkens. “I’ve never really liked rules.” Noah’s tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip. His eyes flick to mine and then back to my mouth. “Me either.” Then his lips crash against mine in a first kiss to end all first kisses. Teeth nipping, tongues searching, frenzied hands grabbing, it’s a better than anything I’ve ever experienced. And if there’s one thing I know now, it’s that I definitely like breaking rules, especially if Noah is involved. “Lennon.” My name is but a prayer falling from Noah’s lips. He pulls back just enough to cup my cheeks in his large, warm hands. Once again his lips find mine, only this time his kiss is soft, sensual, and filled with so much passion I’m afraid my heart will explode from it. Literally. My heart slams against my ribs, and I’m unsure if it’s because we’re finally kissing, or simply because I haven’t been kissed like this in way too long. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m lost in the way he makes me feel. The way his tongue plunges in and out of my mouth as though he loves the taste of me and can’t get enough. Rolling his chair forward, Noah gets as close as he can. With each passing second, our kiss grows stronger, and I’m relieved that he hasn’t pulled away. Because if he pulls away, he’ll likely remind himself that we’re just supposed to be friends, and Noah Cunningham and I are certainly not meant to be just friends. Pushing one hand into my hair, Noah cradles the back of my head while his other hand roams down my side, skimming along the hem of my shirt and— “Hey, boss?” The door flies open. Noah pulls back at the sound of Tommy’s voice. “Shit. Sorry.” Spinning on his heel, Tommy darts out of the office as fast as he came in. I don’t have much time to process the whole situation because in my head, my lips are still plastered to his. But the temperature in the room has drastically dropped. Our warm bubble is gone, and in its place is an awkwardness I’m not fond of. Noah runs a hand down his face. “Fuck,” he hisses. Rolling his chair back, he shoves to his feet. Next thing I know, he’s gone, and I’m left sitting in his office, staring at the empty chair he just vacated.

Noah doesn’t come back for several minutes, and when he does it’s only to rip me apart a little bit more. He doesn’t tell me to go home, but the look on his face is all shame and guilt—not something I ever want to see again in relation to me. That’s when it hits me: I shouldn’t have pushed him. He told me he didn’t want any sort of relationship, and I should’ve respected that. “You can go ahead and go.” Noah’s eyes land on everything in the room except mine. “Tommy’s gonna give me a ride home.” Slowly, I stand up. “Can we talk about this?” “There’s nothing to talk about.” Looking at the floor, Noah shoves his hands in his pockets. “We kissed. It was a mistake.” His words sting, and I want to throw them back in his face because that kiss wasn’t a mistake. Not in the least. But it’s no use. He believes what he believes, and why should I push him? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my twenty-four years of life, it’s that you can’t force someone to want you. Parent, friend, or man. “What about your ankle?” “My ankle is fine,” he snaps. “It was a fucking sprain, Lennon. It’s not like I broke the damn thing. I didn’t even need you to drive me here today. I did it so I could spend time with you, which was also a damn mistake.” Swallowing hard, I do my best to suppress the emotion crawling up my throat. I will not break in front of him. I will cry—that is inevitable—but he will not have the satisfaction of seeing my tears. Without so much as a nod, I grab my things and walk away. Asshole.



Noah didn’t text the rest of the day Monday. I spent all of Tuesday setting up my sewing room at home, working on sketches, and reviewing various designs. I basically spent the rest of the evening waiting for Noah to call or text, but nothing. When Charlotte calls on Wednesday evening wanting to have dinner and a few drinks, and I jump at the chance. Now we’re occupying a booth at Dirty Dicks, the local bar, as we shove our faces with grease-fueled food. My mother would be appalled, but thankfully my mother isn’t here, and right now I need to feed my feelings because they’re hurt. Very hurt. In fact, I’ll probably need chocolate after the grease, and wine after that. “Men suck.” Charlotte pops a French fry in her mouth. “They just do. And not just the Oh my God, yes, keep doing it kind of suck, but the kind where you want to throat-punch them, kick them in the nuts, and watch them fall to their knees in pain.” My hand freezes midair as I stare at Charlotte. “What? Too much?” she asks, shoveling another bite in her mouth. I shake my head and finish off the last of my burger. “No, not too much,” I mumble before swallowing. “That’s pretty spot on with how I feel. Although I don’t really want to see Noah fall to his knees in pain. Worship, maybe, but not pain.” “To each her own.” Charlotte shrugs. “So what are you going to do?” “No clue.” The waitress stops by and picks up my empty plate, so I wait for her to leave before finishing. “I’ve never had a man turn me down. Maybe he’s just not in to me.” “No.” Bless Charlotte. She shakes her head adamantly. “Impossible. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. I bet any man in this bar would kill for the chance to be with you.” “You really think so?” I glance around. There are a whole lot of good-looking cowboys in here, but no one that grabs my attention quite the way Noah does. “I know so.” Charlotte takes a drink and scoots out of the booth. “Watch this.” “Charlotte. Charlotte.” I hiss her name several times, but she doesn’t turn around. My eyes nearly bug out of my head when I see her hips swaying seductively from side to side. Charlotte is beautiful, with curves in all the places I’ll never have curves, and I’m crazy jealous of her hourglass figure. Without a care in the world, she saunters up to a group of men hovering around a pool table. Although I can’t hear what they’re saying, I do see the appreciative looks she’s getting. They all laugh and talk, and

before I know it, she’s heading back. Waggling her brows, Charlotte smirks. “We’ve got next game.” “But I don’t know how to play pool,” I say, glancing back toward the group of men, two of whom are looking at me. One of them waves, flashing me a friendly smile, and I wave back. “Those two fine-looking men are Rhett and Cooper. They’re twins,” she says in an excited whisper. “I see that,” I whisper back. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know how to shoot pool.” “Yes, but Cooper does, and one thing that’s sure to get your mind off Noah is that man pressing you up against the pool table as he shows you how to hold the stick,” she says suggestively. Oh Lord. “I’m going to need alcohol for this.” Raising my arm, I flag our waitress, and in a matter of minutes Charlotte and I are staring at four shot glasses filled with Southern Comfort. “To friends,” she says. Clinking my glass against hers, I smile. “To friends.” I tip my head back, eyes watering as the whiskey burns a path down my throat. “Holy shit,” Charlotte hisses, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “That is the most disgusting shot I’ve ever had. Next time I pick the flavor.” She cringes, a tremor running through her body, and I can’t help but laugh. “Deal.” “You ladies about ready?” The deep southern drawl pulls my eyes upward. One of the twins Charlotte talked to is standing next to the table, his blue eyes shining and twin dimples winking, and good God I’m so far out of my league right now that I can’t even see the damn stadium. I’m having mixed feelings about playing pool with this guy, and not because I don’t find him attractive. Because I do. Very much so. And because oddly enough, I feel like I’m cheating on Noah. Which is absolutely absurd, because Noah doesn’t want me. My stomach churns at that thought, and I begin to second-guess the greasy food and shot of whiskey. Charlotte catches my attention and smiles as though she understands the craziness going on in my head. It must be a woman thing. And then, because she’s so amazing, she says, “Almost, Coop. I can call you Coop, right?” she asks, but keeps talking, not giving him a chance to respond. “Lennon has one more shot, and then we’ll be right there.” Cooper gives us a lazy smile, raps his knuckles on the table twice, and walks back over to join his friends. Grabbing the shot glass, I bring it to my lips and tip my head back, allowing the amber liquid to wash away any and all thoughts of Noah. Noah who? Okay, who am I kidding, it didn’t really work, but damn it I wanted it to. And if you want something bad enough, you have to make it happen. That’s another thing I’ve learned in my twenty-four years. Right now I really want to not think about Noah and his stupid lips that aren’t at all soft and his dumb hair that isn’t sexy— “Here, do this one too,” Charlotte says, handing me her second shot. “You look like you could use it. You are breathing, right? Because your face is turning blotchy and red.” I nod. “Heat rash, maybe? I get them all the time,” I say, taking the glass from Charlotte. I chug the last shot. My arms and legs begin to tingle, my lips getting numb. I’ll regret this tomorrow, but tonight I don’t care.

It’s been two days since I kissed Lennon, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her since. That’s not from lack of trying. I’ve buried myself in work, gotten my bike taken care of, and even cleaned out the gutters. But nothing fucking works. She’s stuck in my head like an old, familiar song. That damn kiss. It caught me off guard. A kiss isn’t supposed to affect me the way that one did, and I hate to admit that it scared the shit out of me. I haven’t been this attracted to a woman since Kim, and she nearly destroyed me. But I can’t compare Kim and Lennon, mostly because I don’t know much about Lennon, except that she’s a walking sex bomb with a heart of gold who seems smart as hell. A lethal combination if I’ve ever seen one. I tried to push her away, tried to just be friends, but when she sat in front of me in my office, practically fucking me with her eyes, I lost it. Her warm body pressed against mine, lips softer than butter, and don’t even get me started on the breathy little moans she made while I was kissing her. She consumed me. All it took was the touch of her lips against mine, and the battle was lost. A battle I needed to win. And that’s when I got scared. I don’t have time to be consumed. It’s as simple as that. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. It’s a damn good thing Tommy walked in when he did, or I would have taken it too far. If kissing Lennon sets my body on fire, I can’t even imagine what it would be like if I had her naked. Okay, I can imagine, but I can’t go there. I absolutely cannot go there. Except I want to. Especially after the way I hurt her, and I did hurt her. It was written all over her face, and the look in her eyes has haunted me every second of the last two days. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I walk outside and sit on the porch swing, my eyes instantly locking on Lennon’s driveway. She’s still not home. I should know; I’ve been watching, waiting for her car to pull up so I can go talk to her. Don’t have a fucking clue what I’ll say, but I need to say something. We sure as hell can’t leave things like this. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when my mom’s number pops up on the screen, I push all thoughts of Lennon to the side. “Hi, Daddy!” “Hi, princess!” My heart melts at the sound of Nova’s voice. Sure, I’ve talked to her twice a day since she left, but it’s not the same. I miss her being here—her presence, her toys scattered from one end of the house to the other, her sweet laughter filling the silence. “How’s your camping trip?” My parents had the bright idea to take a road trip with their RV, and of course they insisted on bringing Nova. I, on the other hand, was not invited. Which I was absolutely cool with. A week to myself? Hell

yes. “It’s fun!” she squeals. The background noise coming through the phone is almost too much, and I plug my other ear, hoping to hear Nova better. “We went swimming and saw the mountains and then Papa took me to ride go-karts.” “Go-karts?” “Uh-huh.” “That sounds like fun. Did you beat Papa?” “Of course I did,” she says, as though I shouldn’t have to ask. “Good girl. What else have you been doing?” “We played golf and went swimming again, and then Nana had to buy me a new swimming suit. It’s pink and purple!” “Why did Grandma have to buy you a new swimming suit?” “I ripped a hole in the butt.” I can hear my mom say something in the background, and whatever it is makes Nova laugh. “Nana said my tush was hanging out.” “You farted, didn’t you? Blew the butt right out of your suit. I told you your farts are toxic.” “No, Daddy,” she says, giggling. Nova’s laugh is infectious, and I find myself laughing along with her. Next thing I know, she’s rushing off the phone. “Daddy, my food is here. I gotta go. I miss you and I love you.” “I love you, too,” I say, but my little girl is already gone. “Hi, sweetie,” Mom says, having taken the phone from Nova. “Are you enjoying your free time? Getting some work done around the house like you wanted?” I look down at my ankle, which is still slightly swollen after the work I’ve put it through the last few days, but feeling much better. I know if I tell her about the accident, she’ll turn into a mother hen. “Nah, just been catching up on extra work down at the shop.” “That’s good, honey. Just remember to take some time for yourself too. Enjoy the quiet while you’ve got it.” The quiet is actually driving me insane. “I’m trying.” There’s some commotion in the background, and then Mom says, “Okay, I gotta go before my food gets cold.” “All right, call me again in the morning?” “We will, sweetie.” “And make sure you’re keeping Nova on her sleep schedule. I don’t want her getting off of it or I’ll never get her back on.” “Bedtime is eight o’clock. We’ve got it. Now I have to go. I love you!” The phone disconnects and then rings again a few seconds later. “Forget something?” I ask, answering without looking at the screen. “No, but you did, dumbass.” I frown at Mikey’s harsh tone. “Lennon’s here,” he adds. My heart hammers in my chest. “Where’s here?” “Dirty Dicks.” I fly off of the porch swing. “Dirty Dicks? What the hell is Lennon doing at Dirty Dicks?” “Well, by the looks of it, she’s getting cozy with your cousin.”

Son of a bitch. “Coop or Rhett?” “Coop.” “Don’t let him touch her. I’ll be right there.” “Too late. He was showing her how to shoot pool. Now he’s helping her with darts.” An image of Coop pressed against Lennon’s back as he wraps his hand around hers pops into my head. Fuck! “Keep an eye on her,” I growl, launching myself off the porch. Cooper isn’t a bad guy, and that’s the problem. He’s a good guy, probably the type of guy Lennon deserves, but I’ll be damned if I’m giving her up that easily. Wait, what? The thought causes me to stumble three feet from my car, but the stupid fucking organ in my chest doesn’t allow me to stop and think about it. Five minutes later, I’m walking through the door at Dirty Dicks. My eyes find Mikey first, and I follow his gaze to the back of the bar. Lennon is standing with her right foot slightly in front of her left, arm perched and ready to throw a dart, when my cousin Coop steps up behind her. My blood boils as he rests his left hand on her hip and covers her right hand with his and guides her dart straight to the bullseye. Throwing her hands in the air, Lennon spins around and launches herself at Cooper. This quickly accelerates my boiling blood into a raging inferno. I take two steps forward before Mikey shoots an arm out, stopping me. “Don’t go over there acting all macho.” “Back the fuck up, Mikey.” He shoves a beer at my chest. “How about you drink this, calm down, and tell me why Lennon is here with Coop instead of you.” I take a long pull from the bottle. “Mind your own business.” His face twists with disappointment. “You fucked it up,” he mumbles. “How did you manage to fuck that up? The girl is perfect for you. Even I saw that. In fact, I saw it the second I pulled over on the highway and found you cuddled up between her legs.” “I wasn’t cuddled up between her legs.” “Call it what you want. Doesn’t change the fact that she’s perfect for you.” “You don’t even know her,” I argue. He shrugs. “Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know she’s a good person. And she clearly has feelings for you. Anyone could see that from a mile away, but oddly enough, she has her arms wrapped around Cooper.” “I kissed her.” “Ah.” Mikey nods and then shakes his head. “How did you screw that up?” “Same way I screw everything up. Same way I screwed up Nova’s life.” Downing the rest of my beer, I set it on the bar, instantly regretting my loose lips. “Come on, Noah.” Mikey’s voice is low, and it pisses me off. “You didn’t screw up Nova’s life. Or Kim’s. She made her own choices. You were just doing what was best for your daughter.” I’m a dick. That’s the only way to explain why I turn to Mikey and say, “Should we paint our toenails now and have a pillow fight?” I’m a lucky son of a bitch because Mikey knows me. He knows where my anger and insecurities lie. “Only if you paint mine first,” he says in his most feminine voice. I crack a smile. “Now,” he says, “go get your girl.”



I head to the back of the bar just as Lennon turns around to throw another dart. She hasn’t seen me yet, which is a good thing. This time, Coop hangs back. Good choice considering I’ll rip his arm off if he touches her again. Lennon lines up her dart, tosses, and once again hits a bullseye. “Good aim,” I say. Lennon’s body goes still, and she spins around. Her dilated eyes land on mine, and all of the breath rushes from my lungs. She looks sexy as hell—hair tucked behind her ears, cheeks flushed, and don’t even get me started on her body. She’s wearing blue jeans with a hole in the knee, a low-cut black top that offers me a peek of that fantastic fucking cleavage, and black heels. I’m not a high-heel man, myself, more of a boot or chuck man, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t just change my mind. Something she seems to be inadvertently good at. “Noah,” she breathes, her eyes darting to Cooper. She’s nervous. Good. She should be. “Noah!” Cooper exclaims, pulling me in for a hug. We slap each other’s backs a few times. “Where the hell have you been?” “Around,” I say, my eyes locked on Lennon’s. She swallows hard before asking, “Do you two know each other?” “Sweet Lennon,” Mikey says, joining the crowd. “What did I tell you about Heaven?” “Right,” she sighs. “Small town.” “Noah’s my cousin,” Cooper says proudly, shaking Mikey’s hand. Lennon’s face pales. “Your cousin.” She looks down at her shoes as though they hold the answers to everything. “Of course he’s your cousin.” Her eyes lock on the woman to her left—this one I’m unfamiliar with—and Lennon purses her lips. They seem to be having some sort of silent conversation, and after a few seconds, Lennon clears her throat. “I, uh… I need to get home.” Cooper jumps before I have the chance. “I’ll take you.” “No,” she says quickly, causing hope to rise in my chest. “No need. I—” I take a step forward. “Lennon lives next to me; I’ll take her home.” “No,” she says again. “That’s really not necessary.” “You’ve been drinking.” Her shoulders deflate, and I know I’ve won. “I’ll take you home,” I say again.

Without a word, she walks straight out of the bar and makes a right. Snagging her elbow, I tug her to the left, causing her to stumble conveniently into my arms. She rights herself, takes another step, and stumbles again. Her heels are sexy and all, and I would kill to have them wrapped around my waist, but they suck on this gravel parking lot. Plus, she’s definitely had a few drinks. The question is, how many? Because we can’t have the conversation we need to have if she’s drunk. Which means it’ll have to wait until morning. “Come on,” I say, hoisting her into my arms. “Your ankle!” She slaps at my chest, but I hold her that much tighter. “My ankle is fine.” “No, it’s not, you’re…” Her words trail off, and she stops writhing in my arms. “You know what? Screw it. Hurt your ankle more; see if I care.” She crosses her arms over her chest, fluffing her tits, and my cock jerks. It’s going to be really fucking hard waiting until tomorrow. “You’re mad at me,” I say, stating the obvious. “Why on Earth would I be mad at you?” There’s no mistaking the sarcasm—and the tiniest hint of a slur—dripping from her voice. “I’m sorry.” It’s not much, but it’s a start. “You’re sorry? Sorry for what? For kissing me like you wanted to fuck me after telling me there will be absolutely no fucking? And then running out of the office like a little bitch?” Ouch. “Lennon, I—” “What was wrong with that kiss? Huh? Because I sure as hell enjoyed it. I thought it was pretty damn perfect. You made my toes tingle, Noah! Do you know how many men have made my toes tingle? One. Christian Grey.” “Christian Grey? The rich dude who’s into all that bondage shit?” “Focus, Noah,” she yells. “I made your toes tingle?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” she huffs, dropping her head to my shoulder. Lennon doesn’t say another word, and she doesn’t move a muscle when I load her up in my Chevelle. By the time we pull into my driveway, she’s passed out. Even asleep she’s beautiful. Too beautiful. Dropping my head against the head rest, I run my hands over my face and stare at her. How is it that this tiny little spitfire of a woman has managed to infiltrate my mind and my life? I put up walls, damn it! High fucking walls to prevent something like this from happening. It’s always been easy for me to walk away from a woman. So why can’t I seem to walk away from this woman? Lennon shifts around in the front seat, swallowing several times. I glance between her house and mine. My plan had been to take her home and tuck her into bed, but as it is, I’m worried about leaving her by herself. So, I do what any other respectable southern gentleman would do. As smoothly and quietly as possible, I lift Lennon from my car, walk her inside my house, tuck her into my bed—after pulling off her heels—and I curl up on the couch for what I’m sure will be a restless night’s sleep.

The sun slices through the curtain, jabbing me in the eye, and I moan, rolling over in bed. Only it’s not my bed. Oh shit, not my bed! Hand clenched over my chest, I quickly sit up, my eyes scanning the room. A large mahogany dresser sits against the wall. Other than that, and the bed I’m in, the room is fairly empty. Two laundry baskets sit in the corner, along with an oval mirror, and I see a frame on the floor, propped against the wall—almost as though someone meant to hang it up, but never got around to it. Sliding out of bed, I tiptoe across the room and pick up the frame so I can see what it holds. Nova. My heart slows inside my chest. As much as I don’t want to be at Noah’s house, it’s really a good thing. It could’ve been worse. I could’ve ended up at Cooper’s, and I was determined not to let that happen. I spent five minutes with Cooper last night and knew we would never work. And not because he wasn’t good looking, or sweet and charming, but because he wasn’t Noah. Noah gives me butterflies. Every time I see him or hear his voice—hell, every time I think about him—a whole swarm takes flight inside my stomach. That’s something I’m really going to have to work on, too, considering he and I can never happen. Taking a deep breath, I run my finger over the glass, reminding myself why Noah is trying to keep his distance. I resolve to walk out of this house. Thankfully, the room has an en suite bathroom, so I take a few minutes to straighten myself up before stepping out into the hall. The house is eerily quiet as I tiptoe toward the front door, heels in hand. If I’m lucky, I can make it out of here without being seen or heard. And if I’m really lucky, Noah is already at work. It is Thursday after all, and a quick glance at my watch tells me it’s nearly ten a.m. Noah probably gets up at the ass crack of dawn and has at least four hours of work in before I even crawl out of bed. Another reason why we wouldn’t work out. I sigh a breath of relief when I make it to the front door without encountering Noah. “Stop.” Shit. “I really need to get going,” I say, my hand still on the knob. “Busy schedule today.” Lies. All lies. All I’ve got is a date with Ben and Jerry, and my Kindle, where I’ll cry and fuss over Noah for a few hours before reminding myself that I am a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man. Then I’ll pick myself up, dust myself off, and do what I came here to do: Enjoy the peace and quiet —just me and my sewing machine as I work on more of my designs. Yes. That’s exactly what I need. Noah’s hand lands softly on my shoulder, and I drop my chin to my chest. I should’ve known he wasn’t going to let me get away that easily. “Five minutes,” he says, spinning me around. “I’m listening.” “Would you at least look at me?” he asks. “You’re asking for an awful lot here, mister,” I say, peeking up under spiked lashes—a reminder that I look like I’ve been run over by a train. Feeling self-conscious, I tug a hand through my hair. Or at least I try; Noah snags my wrist. “You look beautiful.”

Son of a bitch, he’s making this whole staying mad thing hard. And he’s confusing the hell out of me. He’s an ass, he’s sweet, he kisses me, he’s an ass again, he’s sweet again. He’s playing a serious game of ping pong with my heart, and I’m not sure how much I can take. “Look, Noah.” I take a deep breath, trying to find my words. “You don’t have to feel bad for what happened Monday. I pushed you too far. You told me you didn’t want anything more, and I didn’t respect that.” “That’s what I want to talk—” “Please,” I beg, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Please don’t make this harder or more awkward than it already is. I threw myself at you, and you don’t want me, so just let me walk away. Okay?” “I can’t.” Noah pins me against the door. “And you’re wrong. I do want you, more than I should.” Dipping his head, his lips skim across mine, teasing me. “You’re a drug, and I can’t get enough of you.” And then his mouth slams against mine, warm and unyielding. Our tongues duel for power, pushing, pulling, tasting, and somehow, it puts our first kiss to shame. This kiss is so much more. This time our bodies are on fire, writhing against each other, and I get it. I get what he was saying about being a drug, because this is an addiction. He is addicting. “I don’t want you to walk away,” he says between kisses. A moan pulls from my throat, and Noah’s tongue plunges deep, garnering control—control of my mouth, control of my body, and if I’m not careful, he’ll gain control of my heart. This kiss is all-consuming and soul-shattering, and I want more. So much more. “Please,” I beg, though for what, I’m not real sure. Noah’s hot mouth pulls from mine, his lips trailing along my throat as my head falls back against the door with a soft thud. Pushing his body against mine, he brings us flush from chest to thigh, his erection pressing firmly against my belly. I thrust my hips forward, pleading for some sort of friction. Ripping his mouth from my neck, he rests his forehead against mine, our chests heaving. “We need to talk,” he says, breathlessly. “Whatever you’re going to say, will it lead to more of this? Because I really like this.” “Kissing or rubbing?” “Both,” I breathe, nodding my head. “Definitely both.” “If you let me talk, it could probably lead to a lot more than kissing and rubbing.” Oh man. “Shutting up now.” Noah grins and presses his lips against mine again. This time softly, more gently, and promising so much more than kissing and rubbing. He steps back, and I whimper because let’s face it, his body feels fantastic pressed against mine, and I’m not ready for that to be over. “You promised more.” He leads me to the couch and tugs me down next to him. “And you promised to let me talk.” “Oh, fine,” I tease. “But can you make it snappy?” The smile on Noah’s face is nothing short of panty-melting. His cheeks flush, something I’m sure doesn’t happen often, and he glances down before looking back up. “I like you,” he says. “That’s no secret.” My eyes lock onto his cock, which is rock solid and practically throbbing through his jeans. Noah clears his throat. “Okay, I like you a lot. And I’m sorry I pushed you away the other day. I just wasn’t prepared for your kiss to affect me the way it did.” “And how was that?” “I wanted more.” He draws in a ragged breath, running a hand through his hair. “I never want more,

Lennon. Usually once I get a taste, I’m done.” “Well, I’m happy to inform you I’m not your average fling.” He smiles ruefully and nods. “Yeah, I’ve already figured that out, babe. With you, I wanted more. I wanted to keep kissing you. I felt desperate to keep kissing you. I don’t like feeling desperate.” My heart leaps in my chest, and a smile stretches across my face. His words make me happy. Too happy. “This isn’t funny,” he says. I shake my head because no, it isn’t funny, but I can’t wipe the goofy smile from my face. “I’m being serious. I want you bad, probably more than I’ve ever wanted another woman, and that’s frightening because the last time I felt this way about a woman…I ended up a single parent.” I scoot closer to him, reaching for his hand. “Will you tell me about her?” His eyes flick to mine, a look of worry flashing across his face. “You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.” Noah’s eyes shut, his head leaning back on the couch. Several moments pass without a word, and right about the time I open my mouth to tell him to forget about it, he starts talking. “Kim was my high school sweetheart. I was fifteen, and she was sixteen when we started dating. No one thought it would last because we were so young, but it did. Lasted all the way through high school and into college.” Pausing, Noah takes a few deep breaths, his face pinched in pain. My stomach knots with nerves, wondering where this is going. “We went to different colleges a couple of hours away from each other. I wasn’t sure if our relationship was going to survive, but it did. I think my love for her grew during that time. We each had new groups of friends, but I never cheated on her, not once. And to my knowledge, she stayed faithful as well.” “Wow,” I breathe. “That must’ve been hard. When did you have time to see her?” Noah looks up at me. “We drove to each other on the weekends. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked. One weekend during our junior year in college, I went to visit her, and she told me she was pregnant. I wanted to be upset, because we were too young, but I couldn’t find it in me. I was happy, despite the challenges I knew we’d face. Kim was not. She was devastated and angry. She spent that entire weekend screaming at me for ruining her life. I should’ve known something was up, because Kim wasn’t a yeller. Even when she was mad, she somehow always kept her composure.” There are so many questions I want to ask, but none of them seem appropriate so I keep quiet. Standing, Noah paces across the room, stopping in front of a picture of Nova. He picks it up, stares at it for a few seconds, and sets it back down. “I didn’t see Kim for four months after that. She refused to visit me, refused to let me visit her. I drove up to her school, but she was always conveniently gone. I was desperate to see her, to know she was okay, that the baby was okay.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Honestly, I didn’t think she’d have an abortion, but with the way she was acting, I couldn’t be sure. So I skipped classes one Tuesday and drove up there. I parked outside her apartment and waited for her to come home.” When Noah’s eyes find mine again, they’re filled with pain, sadness, and so much regret. “She was thin, so thin, with this tiny little basketball for a belly. Her hair was stringy, and I’ll never forget the hollow look in her eyes. When she looked at me, I knew… I just knew the girl I had fallen in love with, the girl I was about to have a baby with, was gone.” Shaking his head, Noah walks back toward me and sits down. “I didn’t find out for sure until after Nova was born that Kim had been using drugs.” I gasp, my heart breaking. “Oh my gosh, Noah.” “Watching Nova struggle after her birth was the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to witness.”

My heart beats fast and hard in my chest, anger pumping through my veins. How could someone do such a horrible thing to an innocent baby? And to Noah. I can’t imagine what that was like. “I was granted full custody of Nova. Kim tried to fight me, and when she realized I wasn’t going to back down, she switched tactics. She tried to tell me she was sober and wanted to be a part of our lives, but by then I was done. I couldn’t forgive her for what she’d done to our little girl.” Noah’s voice cracks, along with a piece of my heart. “What happened then?” “Kim overdosed on Nova’s first birthday.” The devastation in his words pulls me from my place on the couch and into his arms. I wrap myself around him, offering what little comfort I can. “I’m so sorry,” I say over and over. “It’s okay. Nova’s happy and healthy, and that’s all that matters. She’s all that matters.” His words slam into me with such force that I’m thankful I’m holding on to him. I’m also thankful my face is buried in his shoulder and he can’t see the way his words lance through me, because no matter how silly it sounds, I would like to matter too. “My life isn’t just my life anymore. It’s her life. And I have to be careful about who I let into her life because she’s already been through so much. I don’t want her to know the pain of losing anyone else.” “I get it,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his neck. “You don’t have to explain.”



I tighten my arms around Lennon. The feel of her body against mine is enough to knock down whatever walls were still standing around my heart. I’ve only ever talked about Kim with my parents and Mikey. But I’m glad Lennon knows. It feels right. She feels rights. And she might think I didn’t notice her tensing up in my arms a few seconds ago, and she might say that she gets it, but I don’t see how she possibly could. “I haven’t dated much because of Nova.” Lennon pulls back, avoiding my gaze. My fingers curl beneath her chin, lifting her sad eyes to mine. “I would like for that to change.” “What?” Her brows knit, and I lean in, kissing the bunched skin to smooth it out. “I said I would like for that to change.” “No, I heard you. I’m just not sure I understand what you’re saying. You were very clear about not adulting the other day.” Gripping Lennon’s hand, I open myself, allowing her to see every part of me. Threading my fingers through her hair at the base of her neck, I hold her surprised stare. I find hope and anticipation, and it causes my heart to slam against the walls of my chest with pleasure. “I’m not talking about just adulting. This is different. I’d like to take you out on a date.” Her answering smile is blinding, lighting up a part of my world that has been dark for far too long. And then things get even better because she pushes her hands up my chest, wraps her arms around my neck, and pulls me to her. “If I say yes, does that I mean I can kiss you?” Instead of answering, I plant my lips right on hers. She kisses me back slowly, and when I suck on her bottom lip, she lets out a soft moan. We lose ourselves in the moment, mouths searching, hands exploring, and when my cock pushes painfully against my zipper, I pull back. It’s hard—way too fucking hard—and my body protests. So does Lennon’s. Her lips follow after mine for an instant before turning down in a pout. “I wasn’t done,” she says. I trace my thumb along her bottom lip. Her tongue darts out, and she licks my fingertip before sucking it into her mouth. Fuck me. She’s going to make it impossible to remain a gentleman. It’s not that I don’t want to fuck Lennon, because I do—very much. It’s that I don’t want her to be like every other meaningless hookup I’ve had over the years. If I’m going to do this, if I’m going to step on this

scary fucking ledge, I want to do it the right way. “Tonight,” I say, my voice strained with want. She releases my thumb with a wet pop. “You promised kissing and rubbing.” “I know,” I say, laughing. “And I promise there will be more, but I want to date you. I want to get to know who you are before I explore what you like,” I explain, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t want another fling.” Her perfect lips curl in a mix of delight and desire. “Well, when you put it like that…” “Not so fast.” Standing up, I crowd every bit of her personal space. “I have to go in to work for a few hours, but I want to take you out tonight. Would that be okay?” “I would be honored to go on a date with you, Noah Cunningham. What time should I be here?” “I don’t know what kind of guys you’re used to dating, but that’s not how this works. I’ll pick you up at your front door at seven o’clock sharp.” “Where are we going?” she asks. “I haven’t decided yet.” “But I need to know how to dress.” “Baby, you could wear a fucking burlap sack and still be beautiful.” Lennon curls her fingers around my shirt and tugs me in for a quick kiss. “Don’t be late.” Not a chance in hell, pretty girl.

“Wow,” I say, sliding into a small, half circle booth tucked in the back corner of The Loading Dock. “This place is amazing.” “This is Nova’s favorite restaurant.” “I can see why.” There isn’t an actual wall in the entire place. In fact, there isn’t a ceiling either. Everything from the floor up is one giant saltwater tank, filled with fish of all different colors, not to mention stingrays, turtles, and even sharks. It’s absolutely breathtaking. Noah slides into the booth next to me. “This restaurant is actually a rescue habitat. Some of the turtles and sharks have been injured or caught up in fishing nets. So they come here to get treatment and heal.” “Do they get released back into the ocean?” “Eventually some of them do. Some aren’t so lucky.” “It’s fantastic.” A large, black stingray swims right at me before making a hard left and skimming against the wall. I laugh, pointing. “Did you see that?” Noah doesn’t respond, but I can’t pull my eyes away from the fish to see why. “We don’t have anything like this where I’m from.” “Where are you from?” It takes a second for his words to register, and then I remember we really haven’t discussed anything about me. I’m relieved that we’ve made it this far. I’m not trying to deceive him, but he’s gotten to know me a different way. No preconceived notions, just me. Lennon. And I like that. A lot. “New York. Manhattan to be exact.”

“That’s a far cry from Heaven, Texas.” “It is—” “Hey, Noah.” A tall, thin man with an easy smile approaches our table. He’s dressed casually, but the grease stains on his hands leave me wondering if he works at Noah’s shop. Noah slides out of the booth, greeting him with a man hug. “How are you, Rick? How’s the car running?” “Like a dream, thanks to you.” he says. “I owe you.” Noah shakes his head. “No, you don’t. Plus, it’s a trade, remember? You’re working on my bike.” “Yeah, yeah,” Rick waves him off. “It’s still not enough. I’m just popping some dents out. You rebuilt the whole damn engine.” Our waiter approaches, and after a promise to call Noah as soon as his bike is finished, Rick leaves. The waiter takes our drink order, and I’m relieved when It’s just Noah and me again. “So that’s who you hired to work on your bike?” “Yeah, that’s Ricky. But I didn’t hire him; we worked out a trade.” “Meaning?” “A few months ago he fell on some hard times. His car broke down, and he needed it running because he has a young family, so I helped him. He’s returning the favor.” Could this man get any more perfect? No really, I’m not kidding. “That was nice of you.” Noah shrugs. “He heard about the accident, and lucky for me, Ricky lives and breathes motorcycles.” “So he works at a bike shop?” “Right now he works as a janitor at the school. But his dad used to have a custom bike shop, and Ricky worked there until his father passed away. He inherited the shop, but he couldn’t keep it afloat. He ended up having to sell it to pay off all of his dad’s debt.” I look in the direction Ricky went when he walked away. “That’s so sad.” “Yeah, it is. He’s crazy good at what he does. A few years ago he bought a few pieces of old, rustedout equipment, we got them going, and he started doing some side work out of his garage. I want him to build me a custom bike. We’ve even got plans drawn up.” “So why don’t you do it?” “Money.” Noah shrugs. “I’m not hurting, by any means, but a custom bike is expensive, and I refuse to let him work for nothing.” “I know you said he’s returning a favor, but I’ll gladly pay him for working on your bike.” The waiter stops by, dropping off our drinks, and we order our food. Once he’s gone, Noah shakes his head before taking a sip of his soda. “Because it was my fault and all,” I say, giving him a sassy yet apologetic smile. Sliding his hand under the table, Noah finds mine and links our fingers together. “He won’t charge me.” “Well, if he does—” “He won’t.” Noah pulls our joined hands to his lips and places a soft kiss against my knuckles. “But thank you for offering. Now,” he says, tucking our hands back under the table, “enough about me. I believe we were talking about you.” “There isn’t much to tell.” I shrug. “I was born and raised in Manhattan, where I attended an all-girls prep school.” Noah’s eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You went to an all-girls school?” “I did.” “So there were no boys at all?” I shake my head, laughing at the confused look on his face.

“So you didn’t have boyfriends growing up? There were no proms or making out behind the bleachers after a football game?” “Kids actually make out behind bleachers after football games?” I ask, fascinated. “I kissed my friend Anastasia in the bathroom my sophomore year. Does that count?” Noah’s lips part. “No, that doesn’t count, but I’m intrigued. And yes, kids really make out behind bleachers after football games. It’s like a rite of passage or something.” “Don’t be intrigued,” I say, taking a sip of my tea. “Anastasia was a sloppy kisser. It was short and certainly nothing to write home about.” “Did you write home about it? I mean, is that something you would actually tell your parents?” “Seriously? Did you tell your parents you kissed girls behind the bleachers?” “Good point.” I shrug. “It wouldn’t have mattered. I was closer to my nanny, and she wouldn’t have cared either way. In fact, she probably would’ve just given me a thumbs up and gone about her day.” Noah squeezes my hand. “You’re not close to your parents?” “Not really, but it’s what I’m used to. It’s part of the role.” “And what role is that?” “Love child.” “Explain.” “Striving Broadway actress falls in love with handsome businessman, thus ending his seven-year marriage to his high school sweetheart. Nine months later, I come barreling into the world, and my parents celebrate by jetting off on a trip around the world. Without me.” “That’s kind of fucked up.” “It’s a lot fucked up. But it is what it is. I didn’t know the difference. For the first three years of my life, I thought Helga was my mother.” “Helga?” “The nanny.” “Lennon.” Noah shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t even imagine what that was like for you, and as a parent, I don’t understand it. It took me five years to let my parents take Nova somewhere overnight. I can’t fathom leaving right after she was born.” “That means you’re a good dad. And don’t get me wrong, my parents aren’t bad people; their priorities are just screwed up.” “Yes, but they’re your parents. Their priority should be you.” I take a sip of my drink. “One would think.” “What do your parents do?” “Well, my father is a self-made businessman,” I say, leaving out the fact that his business is actually a Fortune 500 company and that he’s currently Joseph Morgan’s vice presidential running mate for this year’s election. “And my mother was a Broadway actress. She retired a few years ago, if that’s what you call it. Now she spends her days following my father around and annoying me.” Noah opens his mouth, no doubt prepared to pepper me with more questions I’m not ready to answer, and I breathe a sigh of relief when the waiter finally brings our food. “Damn, that looks good.” Noah’s eyes linger on my plate of pasta. “I’m getting that next time.” My heart flutters at the thought of a next time. I knew Noah and I would get along great, so it’s no surprise how fast the night flies by. We spend the next few hours eating, talking, and getting to know each other. I’ve never felt more relaxed or had a conversation flow so naturally. Noah tells me about the summers he spent at his grandmother’s house. We talk about his love for baseball and how he became a mechanic, and then he tells me more about Nova and how hard it was being a single father at the age of twenty. Eventually we veer into Lennon territory, and I tell him about

growing up in the city. He laughs when I tell him that even though I have a license, here in Heaven is really the first time I’ve ever driven for longer than a quarter mile. And then we laugh some more, comparing how different our teenage years were—mine filled with evenings at the theatre and whatever fancy dinner my parents decided to drag me to, and his filled with bonfires on the beach and barn parties with a slew of friends. Eventually the waiter drops off our bill with a subtle, “Pay whenever you’re ready.” Noah’s friend Ricky walks by the table, smiling toward me at the same time Noah pulls out his wallet. “I’m going to use the restroom before we go,” I say, excusing myself. “Probably a good idea because the next place I’m taking you won’t have a bathroom.” I stop, my butt perched at the end of the booth. “Where are you taking me?” Noah grins. “I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.” I can’t remember the last time a man surprised me with something. Finding my ex, Mathis, in bed with my ex-best friend doesn’t count!



“Did you fall in?” Noah asks when I return to the table. “No, I didn’t fall in,” I say, giving him a look. “I just had to freshen up.” That’s a complete lie. Okay, not complete. I did go to the bathroom and freshen up, after I found Ricky for a quick chat. “Let’s get out of here.” Hand in hand, Noah and I leave The Loading Dock and make the short trip into town. Without a word, Noah pulls into an empty parking lot, lit only by two dim streetlights. “This is my surprise?” I look around, confused. Noah gets out of his car and walks around to my side. He opens the door and holds out his hand. “Do you trust me?” “Weirdly,” I say, slipping my hand into his, “I do.” Helping me from the car, Noah shuts the door, wraps an arm around my waist, and guides me though the parking lot. When I finally focus on where we are, I stop in my tracks. “Is that what I think it is?” “Well,” he says, his voice seductive. “I did say it was a rite of passage.” “Oh my gosh, Noah.” I get a giddy feeling in my stomach. Silly, I know, considering I’m a grown woman, and a guy has brought me to a football field to make out, but it’s the thought behind the make-out session that counts. “Are you going to kiss me under the bleachers?” “No.” He shakes his head, leading me toward the large metal stands. “We’re going to kiss on the bleachers. You’ll have to wait to see what happens beneath them.” Noah laughs when I pick up speed, practically dragging him to the bleachers. We climb the small set of stairs, and I squeal as we sit down three rows up. “Holy smokes!” I take a few deep breaths, fidgeting around. “You could’ve warned me that these bleachers would be cold.” In one swift move, Noah lifts me and situates me on his lap. My legs draped over his, I wrap an arm around his shoulder and make myself comfortable. The air is crisp and clean—still warm, yet offering the occasional cool breeze as the sun dips beyond the horizon. As the orange and red hues fade to black, stars scatter across the sky. The sight is utterly breathtaking and not something I’m used to seeing in the city. “It’s so beautiful here. Look at all those stars.” “So. Incredibly. Breathtaking.” I turn to Noah. There are a million beautiful stars in the massive southern sky, and this sweet man only has eyes for me. Something happens inside my heart, inside my soul. Something I’ve never felt before. Something I want to keep feeling.

Noah kisses my flushed cheek. “Breathe,” he whispers. But I find it impossible when he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. He points toward the sky. “Look, there’s the Big Dipper, and over there’s Orion’s Belt.” I scan the black canvas. It’s full of stars, but I have no idea what he’s looking at. “Where?” Noah leans in until we’re cheek to cheek. “See those three stars lined up?” He points to the left, and sure enough, there are three stars in a row. There’s also a flutter in my belly, and I wonder if he can sense it. I wonder if he gets this strange feeling somewhere deep inside every time we touch, or maybe it’s just me. “Now I see it.” “That’s Orion’s Belt. And right over here,” he says, spinning me the other direction, “is Ursa Major.” “You’re really good at this. I couldn’t locate a constellation if my life depended on it.” My back pressed against Noah’s chest, I feel him shrug. He drops his chin to my shoulder. “When Nova was a baby, I started rocking her to sleep on the porch swing. It became a ritual for us. We’d rock and look at the stars until she dozed off. My mom always says I need to break her of it, that she’s too old to be rocked every night, but I can’t. That’s our time, you know?” I nod, a shiver running through me as a cool breeze whips over us. Noah wraps his arms around me from behind, holding me close. “The stars are your thing. I think it’s great. And she’s learning something if you’re teaching her about the constellations, so I’ll have to disagree with your mom on this one. You should definitely keep on rockin’.” “Yeah?” “Absolutely. She’s only little once. One of these days, she’ll spend the evening running around with her friends and then come home and put herself to bed. So you should soak up the time with her while you can. And coming from a child who didn’t have many moments like that, I assure you, she’ll remember them.” “You’re pretty smart, you know that?” “Well,” I say, straightening my shoulders, “I do have a fancy college degree.” “You do? In what?” he asks. “Accounting. I graduated summa cum laude from Columbia.” “You’re a CPA?” “I am. And why are you looking at me like that? Are you surprised?” “No.” He shakes his head, quick to reassure me. “That isn’t it at all. I just wouldn’t have pegged you as a CPA.” “I wouldn’t have pegged me as a CPA either.” Noah draws back. “Then why do it, if it isn’t your passion? Why spend so much of your time and energy on it?” “I didn’t really have a choice.” “You always have a choice.” “Maybe in your world.” I shrug, watching Noah’s face fall. “Not in mine.” “So what is it that you love? If you could do anything, what would you like to do?” My answer is quick. “Sew.” Noah gives me a confused look, but he seems intrigued. “Sounds silly, doesn’t it?” “No.” He shakes his head. “Not silly. Interesting.” “I can do more than sew. I crochet, knit, embroider. If it involves thread, yarn, a needle, or a sewing machine, I can pretty much do it. Helga used to say I have an old soul. She would sit down at night and make her own clothes and purses, and I didn’t have anything else to do, so I’d sit there and watch. One

night, she asked if I wanted to learn, and I jumped at the chance. She taught me everything I know.” “Impressive. Sounds like that should be your profession.” A smile stretches across my face, pride filling my chest. “I’m working on it.” Noah gives my waist a gentle squeeze, encouraging me to tell him more. “I’ve always wanted to have my own bridal boutique. There’s nothing I would love more than to design custom gowns for women. And not just wedding gowns, but prom and bridesmaid dresses, too.” “That sounds like a great dream. You should make it come true.” “I will,” I say. “One of these days. Until then, I’ll keep working on my designs.” “What are you doing in the meantime? Are you hoping to find work here in Heaven?” I shake my head. “No. I quit Markel and Bradshaw a couple of months ago because I wasn’t happy. I’ve saved up enough over the last few years to keep me afloat. For now, I’m taking time off to work on my sketches.” “That sounds like a solid plan to me. I want to see your sketches sometime.” “Absolutely.” Noah brushes his fingers up and down my arm, offering me a bit of reassurance I didn’t even realize I needed from him. “Tell me more about yourself.” Squirming on his lap, I readjust, making myself comfortable. “Let’s see. My favorite color is purple. I like chocolate chip cookies, but despise pie. Pizza is my go-to food, no matter what.” I tap my chin, thinking of something else about myself. “Oh! I can sing my ABCs backward.” “Now this I’ve got to hear.” “I was class treasurer in high school,” I say, ignoring his request. “My freshman year of college, I started a charity called Children Everywhere, and we’ve raised over six million dollars.” His face softens. “Holy shit, Lennon. That’s incredible. What kinds of things does the money go to?” “Well, we do several things, but mostly we assist children in the foster system after they turn eighteen. So many of those children lead horrific lives, and then they turn eighteen and they’re thrown out into the world without any sort of support. So we become their support system.” “How did you come up with that? I mean, why foster kids? Why not helpless animals or abused women?” “Because there was a need. I saw it first hand. There was a girl working at the soup kitchen where I volunteered. At first I thought she was a patron of the soup kitchen rather than a worker, but then I realized she wasn’t; she was simply donating her time like me. We got to talking and became friends, and her story was heartbreaking. She had no one. She’d become a ward of the state at the age of two. Between her third birthday and the time she turned eighteen, she’d been moved to fourteen different homes and suffered so much abuse. It was horrific, some of the things she’d been through. But you know what? She still had this fire inside of her. Despite the challenges she’d faced, the pain she’d been through, she wanted to move past it and do great things. But she didn’t have the resources or the financial support. She was the first person we helped.” “That’s amazing.” “Thank you. We have a charity auction every year to raise money. In fact, it’s coming up in a couple of months. Maybe you can be my plus one,” I suggest, thoughts of a sexy dress with more access to my body than he could possibly dream of, flitting through my head. “Maybe I will. Although I don’t own a tux, and I’m guessing it’s a black tie affair.” A vision of Noah in a tux flashes in my head, and I smile. His grip on me tightens. “Tell me about your friend you helped. Where is she now?” “She’s in med school,” I say with a smile. “We don’t talk much anymore because we’re both so busy, but every once in a while, she calls to check in.” Noah responds by kissing the base of my neck. His lips linger, causing my skin to prickle. “I bet she’s

incredibly grateful to you.” I smile, modestly. “Why leave New York?” Oh boy. I slide my hands along the front of my skirt, trying to think of a clever answer. That makes me feel like a jerk. It was easy to tell Charlotte about what happened because she knew who I was, and she’d already seen everything on the news. But with Noah, I’ve actually had a fresh start. He’s still getting to know me, and I don’t want to horrify him—especially knowing his past with Kim. I’ll have to tell him about my overwhelming past sometime, but I convince myself I don’t have to do it yet. “I just needed to get away.” That’s not a lie; I really did need to get away. I needed my independence, something that has never truly been mine. “I needed to get out of the city. I needed a change.” “So out of all the towns in the country, how did you end up here?” he asks, his warm breath fanning across my skin. “I’m an angel, remember?” He nips the spot he just kissed, and I squeal. “Okay, fine. A friend of mine had some family that lived here a long time ago. She said she spent a few summers here and it was really pretty, so I went with it.” I decide not to tell him Brenna gave me a place to live. He already knows I’m jobless. I don’t want him to think I’m a freeloader, too. “Remind me to send her a thank-you note.” “Hell, no. You will have no such contact with her. She’s a wolf. She can sense a good guy from a mile away, and she’ll sink her teeth into you before I get the chance.” This makes Noah laugh. “You want to sink your teeth into me, huh?” “Um…duh.” Spinning around, I straddle him, wrapping my legs around his waist. Warm hands glide up my back and pull me in close. “This is much better.” The bulge in his pants is nestled perfectly between my thighs, and a rush of heat washes through me. “You know what would make it even better?” I whisper. Running his nose up the length of my neck, Noah makes a sound of appreciation. “Hmmm. What’s that?” “If we did more than kissing and rubbing.” He needs no further encouragement, thank God. Noah wraps a hand in my hair, pulls my head down until our mouths meet, and devours me. My mouth opens in a sigh, and when he takes advantage, shoving his tongue inside, I flex my hips, rubbing myself against him. And, oh shit, he’s hard. So hard and so dangerous because I’ve never wanted a man the way I want Noah. No man has ever set my body on fire with a single look or touch the way he does, or made my soul yearn for so much. With one hand wrapped around my hip, Noah guides me over his denim-covered shaft, and I nearly cry out when his zipper hits my clit. In a matter of minutes, my body goes weak, my knees limp, and I moan into his mouth. Noah pulls back, but I can’t get my eyes to open. My lids are too heavy, my breathing ragged as my hips find the perfect rhythm. “Look at me.” Noah’s voice is gruff, and when I peel my eyes open, he slides a hand up my thigh and under my skirt until his fingers find the edge of my panties. “Tell me you want this.” “So much.” No idea how I found the words because I can barely breathe and when his fingers find the same sensitive spot his zipper had discovered, all the air is sucked from my lungs. My eyes flutter closed as he rubs, exploring every intimate part of me. “My pretty girl,” Noah says, trailing his mouth up my neck. “I want to see you let go, want to watch your face when you come for me. I want every fucking part of you, Lennon, right here.” I nod, my head buried against his neck. What is it about a man with a dirty mouth that is so fucking

sexy? His words are hot against my skin, pushing me further and further toward the edge. His fingers slide in and out of me as my hips rock back and forth, searching for release. I’m fucking Noah’s hand on the bleachers at a football field, completely out in the open where anyone could drive by or walk up and see, and I don’t even care. I don’t care because all I can focus on is the intense pulse between my legs. It’s getting stronger with each passing second, and when Noah curls a finger deep inside of me, I cry out. “Noah.” “That’s it, baby,” he coaxes, rubbing me faster. I have no idea why, but the way he calls me baby tugs at something deep inside of me, and I arch back. “Fuck.” A growl rumbles deep in Noah’s chest as his clever fingers play me like a goddamn piano, with such precision you’d swear he’s been practicing his entire life for this moment. “Look at you.” Leaning forward, he sucks on the skin above my breast. “I can’t even begin describe how sexy you look riding my fingers.” This time his words shove me over the cliff, and my body explodes into a million tiny pieces that fly into the air in rainbow of colors before slowly floating back to Earth. I search for them, trying to put myself back together as best I can, but I have the distinct feeling that after tonight with Noah, I’ll never be quite the same. “Lennon.” “Hmmm.” I melt into Noah, my body completely relaxed. “Lennon.” He repeats my name, softer this time, and when I finally surface, he kisses me softly. “There she is,” he says, running his fingers along my cheek. I smile lazily, nuzzling Noah’s neck. “As much as I want you to take me under the bleachers, I’d much rather go back to your place.” “Thank fuck.”



“Lennon.” Noah’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel, his voice a warning, but his eyes give him away. He wants this just as much as I do. Popping the button on his jeans, I lower the zipper, but when I reach for Noah’s cock, he stops me with his hand on mine. “I’m serious.” His eyes are intense as they flick between me and the road. “I’m barely hanging on here, and when I lose myself, I want to do it buried deep inside that pussy.” Reaching across the seat, Noah palms me, caressing my still-sensitive clit. Pulling myself back out of his lap, I flop against my seat. “Hurry.” “I should make you wait for being so damn impatient. Lucky for you, I’m impatient as well.” Whipping the car into the driveway, Noah parks and jogs to the passenger side. He helps me out, laces his fingers through mine, and all but drags me toward his front door. “Want to look at the stars?” I tease. Noah stops, turns, and the next thing I know, I’m ass over head as he flings me across his shoulder. His hand slips under my skirt, palming my ass. “I don’t want to look at stars,” he says. “I want to make you see them.” My breath quickens, because I want that too. In three long strides, we’re plowing through the front door. Releasing his hold, Noah lets me down gently, my body sliding against the front of him, and then he’s crowding me against the door. “I want to go slow, kiss every inch of this body.” His hands roam, gliding over my hips before cupping my breasts. “I want to suck on these fantastic fucking tits.” “Please,” I beg, consumed with desire. Noah moves his hands into my hair. Lowering his mouth to my ear, he whispers, “But I can’t wait. Because right now, I just need to be inside you. I need to fuck you.” “Yes.” I nod, completely unashamed. “Yes.” Noah’s hands leave my hair, roaming back down and stopping when they reach the hem of my shirt. Swiftly, he lifts it over my head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His breathing is ragged as he skims his finger along the swell of my breasts. Ever so softly, he lowers the straps of my bra and tucks a finger into each of the cups. He pulls, and my breasts spill into his waiting hands. “So gorgeous.” Cupping my breast, Noah brings it to his mouth, his tongue teasing my nipple before he sucks hard. “Oh God.” Gripping the back of his head, I writhe. Noah’s mouth moves from one breast to the other, his tongue flicking and sucking and driving me absolutely wild. I squeeze my thighs together to suppress

the growing throb. “Please, Noah.” Almost before I can register it, my skirt is bunched around my waist and my panties are gone. The distinct sound of foil ripping comes next. “Here. Let me.” I take the package from him and slip it between my teeth while I lower his jeans. His cock bobs heavily between us, brushing against my stomach. Noah hisses when I roll the condom over his thick shaft. “You’re sure about this?” Is he insane? “I haven’t been this sure about anything in a very long time.” He smiles wickedly. “Wrap your legs around me.” Noah lifts me, wedging my body between his and the door. Reaching between us, I position him at my entrance, and he lowers my body until I’m seated on his cock. “Damn, you feel good.” He lifts me, pulling himself out before slamming me back down. I suck in a sharp breath, and he stills. “Are you okay?” More than okay, I think, unable to get the words out. I look down the length of Noah, admiring his sculpted body. Chiseled lines merging with defined dips and ridges, he’s goddamn perfect. Perfect for me. My eyes slide lower to where our bodies are joined. One look at this man sliding in and out of me, and I know for certain he’s ruined me. Because my body was made for him, made for moments like this. “Lennon, are you okay?” Consumed with emotion and still unable to find my words, I nod. That must be all the confirmation he needs, because Noah begins to move faster and harder, with long, deep strokes that unravel me one delicious pump at a time. “Noah.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders. His hips thrust upward, his hands on my ass, ensuring that I keep pace. Lowering his head, Noah kisses and sucks every inch of my skin that his hungry mouth can reach. Closing my eyes, I drop my head against the door, my hips flexing in tandem with his. Blood rushes through my ears, nearly drowning out the sounds of our bodies slapping together and our faint moans and grunts. The heat builds to excruciating levels, tiny sparks shooting down my legs, and in one glorious moment, I lose control. My toes curl, my body jerking, pulsating around his. Noah’s movements become quick, more frenzied. He buries himself to the hilt and growls, pumping several more times before dropping his head to my shoulder. His body trembles against mine, both of us panting raggedly. “Lennon.” Noah kisses the side of my neck and my cheek before his lips find mine. “What are you doing to me?” “Killing you softly, babe, just like you’re doing to me.” He smiles against against the sweat-soaked skin of my neck. “I want more. So much more.” And I give it to him, over and over and over again.

Lennon drags in a ragged breath. Brushing a chunk of hair out of her face, she smiles. Her big, blue eyes meet mine. She blinks several times, her lids heavy, quite possibly with a mixture of pure lust and utter

exhaustion. “I think you broke me,” she says, burrowing against the pillow. After our little stint in the living room, I brought her to my bed, and this time I made sweet, sweet love to her. It wasn’t rough and frenzied like earlier, but soft and gentle, the kind of love she deserves. “One more round.” I’ll probably die if she agrees to another round, but I’ll take the risk if she’s game. “Oh, no.” Lennon shakes her head, her eyes drifting shut. “I swear you’re trying to kill me.” “Death by orgasm.” “What a way to go.” She snuggles against me, her back to my front and, sure as shit, my cock stirs once again. Lennon moans when I guide myself to her entrance, sliding my dick in as deep as her body will allow. “Noah—” “Shh…” I press my lips to her outer ear. “I just need to be inside you.” “I need that, too.” Lennon yawns, her eyelids drifting shut. I sweep my eyes over her naked body, along the sensual curve of her hip, and my fingers follow. Goosebumps rise under my touch, and when I kiss Lennon’s bare shoulder, she shivers. The sensation of having her wrapped around me is almost too much. I’m tempted to pull out, roll over, and call it a night, remind myself that I don’t deserve a woman like her because I don’t have time for someone else in my life, but I’m too damn selfish. This girl is mine. And I have to take what’s mine. Lennon doesn’t resist when I worship her body one last time, and when we roll over and her breathing evens out, her limbs go lax against mine, I realize for the first time in five years that I feel…content. Truly content. It’s as though she completes a part of me I didn’t know was missing. Closing my eyes, I relish the feel of her soft body pressed against mine. It’s in this position, with her hair fanned out around her head and my palm gently cupping her breast, that I fall asleep. Some time later, the sound of the front door slamming startles me awake. The sun is starting to peek through the curtains, but it’s still dim, and a glance at the clock reveals that it’s only six o’clock in the morning. I yawn, lying there for a couple of seconds, wondering if maybe the door closing was all just a dream, and then I hear it: the faint sound of feet pitter-pattering around the living room. “Shit,” I hiss, waking Lennon up. “What’s wrong?” Wrapping the sheet around her chest, Lennon yawns. “You okay?” “Nova’s home.” “What?” she says, a bit too loudly. Quickly realizing her mistake, she covers her mouth with her hands. Slipping out of bed, I tiptoe across the room and flick the lock on the door so Nova can’t barge in, because that’s something she would do. I’ve always had an open-door policy with her, but this is something she most definitely does not need to see. “Daddy?” Nova’s voice carries through the house, and I berate myself for being in a position that doesn’t allow me to go straight to her. Lennon’s eyes widen, and she scurries from the bed, quickly slipping into her clothes from the night before. “Daddy, are you up?” The knob on my door wiggles, and my stomach twists in a knot. “Daddy?” Closing my eyes, I run a hand over my face. “I’m here, baby girl. I’ve gotta get dressed and I’ll be right out.”

“Noah?” “Who is that?” Lennon mouths. “My mother.” Lennon’s face pales, and I reach out for her. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “Just give me a second to figure this out.” “This is not okay,” she whispers back. “Your mother and daughter are outside that door.” Lennon is watching said door as if the devil himself is about to barge in, and I have to admit, the look on her face is a little comical. If we weren’t pressed for time, I’d kiss the shit out of her gaping lips. “My dad, too,” I add, unable to help myself. Lennon’s mouth snaps shut, and she glares at me. “Noah?” my mom hollers again. “Is that you?” I roll my eyes. “Yes, Mother, it’s me. Who else would be in here?” “Just checking, sweetie. You’re usually up by now.” I stride toward Lennon and nuzzle the side of her neck. “I would’ve been except someone kept me up late last night,” I whisper. “Shhh,” Lennon says, giggling and shoving me away. This girl. I can’t get enough of her, and now she’s standing in the middle of my room in her rumpled clothes from last night with flushed cheeks, looking sexy as hell, and my cock is standing at full attention. Clearing my throat, I grab my jeans off the floor and pull them on, along with a T-shirt. “What are you doing back this early in the morning?” I call, knowing my mother is still standing outside the door. She’s suspicious already, I can tell. It’s probably that mother’s intuition she’s always talking about. “You know how your dad is.” Her sigh is audible from behind the door. “I’ll make breakfast and tell you all about our trip.” “Sounds good, Mom. I’ll be out in a few.” I hear her walk away, followed by the theme song to Nova’s favorite TV show. Turning to Lennon, I try offering her a reassuring smile. “You okay?” “Your family is here, Noah,” she says, glancing around the room as though she’s looking for a way to escape. “This isn’t exactly how I envisioned meeting your parents and your daughter. What are they going to think when they see me doing the walk of shame?” She’s right. This isn’t exactly how I would want her meeting my parents—hell, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the notion that I want her to meet my parents. But ushering her out of my house like a cheap date doesn’t feel right either. “How am I going to get out of here?” Her eyes are pleading with me to fix this, to do something to get us out of this mess, but the only answer I can come up with is to walk her into my living room, introduce her to my parents and my little girl, and have her sit next to me at breakfast. I’ve never done anything like this, not since Kim, and the thought terrifies me. But something about it just feels right. Every single time I’m around Lennon, I have this intense reaction. My heart races, my palms sweat, and I get this insane urge to touch her and be close to her. I’ve never had a connection like this with another woman, and that right there should tell me something. It does tell me something. I want her to meet my parents. I want her to meet Nova. I hold out my hand, knowing that if she takes it, if she trusts me enough to do what I’m about to do, we have a real chance of making whatever this might be between us work. “Noah.” She slips her hand in mine, and I pull her close. “Stay.”

Her eyes widen. My legs are restless as I wait for her to say something, anything, half expecting her to dive out the window. “Really?” she asks. “Yes.” Three letters. One word that solidifies our connection. She blinks and then smiles, and it’s enough to bring me to my fucking knees. This woman is going to ruin me for anyone else. I just know it. “Okay.”



Lennon’s hand is trembling in mine. I squeeze it as we step into the kitchen. “Hey, Ma.” “There you are. I threw in some cinnamon rolls,” Mom says, opening the door to the oven and peeking inside. They must not be done because she shuts the door, turns toward me, and takes one step forward. When she sees Lennon, she stops. Her lips fall open before tilting upward in a tentative smile that grows as the situation sinks in. Then she rushes past me and heads straight for Lennon. “Mom, this is Lennon.” Untangling her fingers from mine, Lennon holds her hand out toward my mother. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mom grips Lennon’s hand and tugs her in for a tight hug. Lennon squeaks, but quickly obliges. “She’s beautiful,” Mom mouths over Lennon’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to get cleaned up,” Lennon says. “If I’d known I’d be eating breakfast with you, I certainly would have.” “Hush.” With both hands on Lennon’s shoulders, Mom pulls back. “Don’t you dare apologize.” Lennon glances back at me when my mom leads her toward the table and motions for her to sit down. “Lennon, what a beautiful name.” Lennon beams. “Thank you, Mrs. Cunningham.” My mother scoffs, waving her off. “Please, call me Diane. Mrs. Cunningham was my mother-in-law, and she wasn’t nearly as cool as I am. Now, tell me about yourself, Lennon. Where are you from? How long have you and Noah been seeing each other?” “Come on, Mom.” I urge her away from Lennon. “Can we save the third degree for another time?” “I’m not giving her the third degree,” she admonishes, propping her hands on her hips. “It’s been five years since you’ve brought a woman home. Excuse me if I’m curious about the stunning lady my boy is having relations with.” “Mother, please!” The woman has no damn filter whatsoever. She’s a grown-up version of Nova. Lennon laughs. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” “Daddy!” Leave it to Nova to barge in at just the right time. She barrels into the room and wraps herself around my leg. Bending down, I scoop her up. Burying my face in her soft curls, I hold her tight. “Are the cinnamon rolls ready?” she asks. “I’m hungry.” “I missed you, hungry.” I assault her with a barrage of kisses, and Nova giggles, wriggling in my arms. “I missed you too, Daddy.”

Nova is growing up way too fast, so I hold on a few seconds longer, enjoying this moment. One of these days she won’t throw herself at me and let me hold her, and I don’t even want to think about what I’ll do then. When I open my eyes, they instantly find my mother’s. She’s watching us with a gentle smile, likely remembering a young me doing this exact same thing. My father picks that moment to walk into the room. He flings an arm around Mom’s shoulder and kisses her on the cheek, and I’m all but forgotten as they lose themselves in conversation. This is all it takes. This one moment shines a much-needed light of clarity as I turn to look at Lennon. I will always put Nova first, always, but that doesn’t mean I have to put me last. I want what my parents have. I want someone to stand by me as I raise my daughter, someone to share these moments with me, someone to love. One of these days, I want to sit on my front porch and watch my grandchildren play in the yard, and I want my wife sitting next to me. I’m not sure if Lennon is that person, but I’d sure as hell like to find out. Lennon smiles softly, and my heart flips over, but I don’t have long to analyze the feeling because Nova squirms out of my hold and walks straight to Lennon. “Who are you?” I take a step forward to intervene when Mom throws an arm out, stopping me. Narrowing her eyes, she shakes her head, and I take a deep breath as I watch the little girl who owns every piece of my heart slowly give a tiny chunk of it to Lennon. “My name is Lennon. What’s your name?” Lennon places her elbows on her knees so she can get down to Nova’s level. “Nova. I like your skirt.” Nova reaches out and rubs the material. “It’s soft.” “Thank you. I made it.” Nova’s eyes widen. “You can make skirts?” “She sews,” Mom whispers, elbowing me in the side. “Not many girls sew these days, Noah.” “Yes, Mom, I heard her.” Shaking my mom off, I watch Lennon to see what she’ll say. “I can make just about anything you can wear.” Nova’s eyes widen. “Really?” Lennon nods. “Can you make princess dresses?” “I make the best princess dresses. The kind with lots of sparkles and a skirt that flares out when you twirl.” “Those are my favorite kind,” Nova says, twirling on the kitchen floor. “Can you make me one?” “Nova—” I warn. “I’d love to,” Lennon says, interrupting me. “Can you paint my nails, too? Oh, and do my hair? But not like yours. Yours is messy.” “Nova, that wasn’t nice,” I warn. “It’s okay.” Lennon runs her fingers through her hair. “I did just wake up. I’m sure it’s a disaster.” “Did you stay the night with my daddy?” Lennon’s eyes open wide when she realizes her mistake. “I, uh…” she sputters. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother trying not to laugh. I elbow her in the side before pulling up a seat next to Lennon. Shit. How do you explain something like this? I glance at Lennon for help, but she grabs a glass of juice off the table and takes a sip. I swallow and turn to Nova. She’s watching me with big doe eyes, and I can feel the weight of Lennon’s as well. “Lennon and I had a little sleepover last night. Kinda like when you have Marybeth

come over and play, except Lennon stayed the night.” “But Lennon’s a girl.” Nova looks at me, then at Lennon. “And you’re a boy.” Lennon nearly chokes on her juice, and I reach an arm out, patting her back several times. “Well, sweetheart—” “Does that mean I can have Davis stay the night?” Nova asks, referring to a little boy on her soccer team. “Absolutely not.” No way in hell. I hate to break it to Nova, but she won’t be having co-ed sleepovers until she’s at least twenty-five. Nova frowns. “That’s not fair.” The buzzer on the stove goes off, and my mother, like usual, saves the day. “Come on, sweetie. Help me put icing on the cinnamon rolls.” With a hand to Nova’s back, she guides her toward the oven. “Do I get to lick the spoon?” “Not if I get to it first,” Dad says, pretending to race Nova across the kitchen. “I’m so sorry.” Lennon turns toward me and places a hand on my leg. “I wasn’t thinking when I said that.” “It’s okay.” Lifting her hand, I kiss her palm before setting it back down on my thigh. Lennon worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “I feel bad.” “Don’t.” “Breakfast is ready.” Mom places two pans of cinnamon rolls on the table, and everyone else takes their seats. For so long, it’s just been the four us at family dinners, or in this case breakfast, and I’ve never felt like anything was missing. Until now. Seated between Lennon and Nova with my parents across from us, the room feels full—whole. More than it ever has before. Nova dives into her cinnamon roll with a fervor only a five year old can possess while my mom takes the opportunity to fill us in on the adventures of their camping trip. With a fork in one hand, and Lennon’s fingers wrapped in the other under the table, I get lost in conversation and the quiet simplicity of the moment.



After breakfast, I unpack Nova’s bag from her weekend away and toss her dirty clothes in the washer. Then I walk into the kitchen and stop short at the sight of Lennon standing at the sink. Nova is perched on a chair next to her, and they’re both laughing. Seeing the two of them together like this is overwhelming. In a good way. My feet and legs ache with the need to walk to them and wrap them in my arms, or just be a part of their conversation. But they need this time. If I want Lennon to be a part of our life, they need to get to know each other, and judging by the smiles, it’s going well. Widening my stance, I prop my hip against the doorjamb and settle in for a little eavesdropping. “What’s your favorite color?” Lennon shoves her hands in the soapy water. “Purple. What’s yours?” Nova taps her chin and holds her finger straight up in the air as though a light bulb just went on. “Pink. What’s your favorite food?” “Definitely pizza. You?” “Macaroni and cheese.” Lennon nods, rinsing a plate before handing it to Nova to dry. “Good choice. Favorite princess?” “Ariel.” “I’m going with Elsa.” Stacking the plate on the counter, Nova cocks her head. “Elsa? But she doesn’t have a prince. Every princess needs a prince.” “Maybe she just hasn’t found her prince.” Lennon hands Nova another plate. Wrinkling her nose, Nova contemplates and then shrugs. “Well, when I find my prince, he’s going to be handsome and smart and have lots of tattletoos, just like my daddy.” Lennon chuckles. “Oh yeah?” Oh, hell no, he’s not! “What are you doing?” Mom whispers, walking up behind me. “Shhh.” I point to Nova and Lennon. Nova nods like a bobblehead. “And he’s going to love to clean.” Lennon laughs. “Why’s that?” “Because I hate cleaning my room. So if I marry a prince who cleans, he can clean up all of my messes.” “I like the way you think.” Lennon pulls a soapy hand out of the water and Nova high fives her, sending suds everywhere.

Both girls giggle, and I find myself smiling along with them. Wrapping her hand in a towel, Lennon reaches out and wipes bubbles off of Nova’s face. The way she does it, so gentle and caring, must catch Nova’s attention because her giggle fades into a hesitant yet hopeful smile. “I’ve never seen that look on Nova’s face before,” I whisper to my mom. “That’s the look you used to give me.” She taps my arm, and I follow her into the living room. My mother sits down on the couch, dragging me along with her, and stares at me with that knowing look—the one she’s perfected over the years. “What?” “Don’t what me. You know what,” Mom says. Here we go. I lean back and look at my mom, silently waiting for her to get on with it. “Is she your girlfriend?” “Diane,” Dad scolds from the recliner as he flips through channels, landing on ESPN. “What?” Mom holds out her hands. “Don’t I have a right to know if my son has a girlfriend?” “Your son is a grown man. Let him live his life, and ease up. He’ll tell you when he’s good and ready.” As much as I appreciate my dad trying to give me an out, I know she won’t go for it, and the easiest thing to do is give her what she wants. “I don’t know, Mom.” I shrug. “I guess.” “What do you mean, you don’t know?” “We haven’t exactly put a label on our relationship.” “Is this one of those ‘Netflix and chill’ things I always hear about?” Her hand shoots over to my arm. “Oh my gosh, did we interrupt you? Were you having relations when we came in?” Dad groans, running a frustrated hand over his face. “Diane…” I grimace. “First off, don’t ever say relations again. Second, where did you hear about Netflix and chill?” “Facebook.” “You need to get off Facebook, Mom.” “We’re getting off subject,” she says. “I want to know about you and Lennon.” “How about we change the subject?” Mom holds her hands up in surrender. “Fine. But let me just say this. You’ve put your life on hold to raise that beautiful little girl in there, and you’ve done a fine job of it. Your father and I are so proud of you. But you deserve to be happy, too.” “I am happy,” I stress. Mom shakes her head. “I know you are, but you deserve a different kind of happiness. You deserve to be in love. Don’t think I didn’t notice the stolen glances between you two at the breakfast table. And Noah, the way you smiled at Lennon earlier… I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time. If you have feelings for her like I think you do, you owe it to yourself to label that relationship. It’s time, Noah.” Sometimes my mom just gets me, knows what I need to hear and when I need to hear it. “I’m afraid to move too fast. I don’t want to scare Nova or rush into anything, but what I feel for Lennon…” My gaze drifts toward the kitchen. “It’s real, it’s strong, and it’s a little bit scary.” I half expect my dad to reach over and take away my man card, so I’m surprised when he does the exact opposite. He presses a hand to my shoulder. “That’s how I knew your mother was the one.” He smiles adoringly at Mom. “She scared the shit out of me.” “And you’ve been together ever since?”

“No,” he says, somberly. “I was a coward. I ran away from that feeling at first.” Dad reaches out and pulls my mom up into his arms. “But I’m a lucky son of a bitch because when I finally pulled my head out of my ass, your mother was still there…waiting.” “He made me wait for six long months,” she says, staring into Dad’s eyes with a wistful smile. I can’t believe I’ve never heard this story. “You waited six months?” I ask, a little surprised. Mom grins. “When you know, you just know.” “What do you know?” I spin around at the sound of Nova’s voice and find her and Lennon standing side by side in the living room. The sight of the two of them together is again like a punch to the chest. “Well,” Mom says, bending down to scoop Nova up. “I was just telling your dad about how I fell in love with your grandpa.” Nova’s smile grows. “He’s your prince.” Lennon sits down on the couch next to me, her hand precariously close to mine. When I look up, she’s giving me that sexy little grin I love. Her fingers inch closer until the warmth of her skin is pressed against mine. What I feel from her simple touch absorbs into my skin, seeps through my veins, and infiltrates every last cell in my body. Never in a million years did I think I could feel so strongly about someone so fast. But everything with her, once I got out of my own way, has been incredibly easy. So why complicate things now? Easy has worked for us so far. Without giving it much more thought, I grab Lennon’s hand, entwining our fingers. Her breath hitches, and I look up. Everything stops, and for a brief moment, it’s just me and her. The electricity sparking between us owns the room, and my heart thrashes against my chest like a live wire. Lennon squeezes my hand, and if eyes could smile, hers just did. “Isn’t that right, Lennon?” Lennon blinks several times and turns to Nova, who is seemingly oblivious to the fact that I’m holding Lennon’s hand. “I’m sorry.” Lennon licks her lips nervously. “I, uh… I missed what you said.” My mom just laughs, her eyes glued to our joined hands. “Never mind, dear.” She turns to me. “Noah, what time do you have to be at work?” Shit. “What time is it?” I completely lost track of time, wasn’t even thinking about work. “It’s only eight thirty,” Dad says, looking at his watch. “No,” Nova whines, wiggling out of my mom’s hold. She slinks toward me and falls pathetically in my lap. “I just got home.” It kills me to pull away from Lennon, but I do. I pick Nova up and plant a big, fat kiss on her cheek. “I know, baby, but I still have to go to work. How else am I going to make money to buy you toys?” I ask, ruffling her hair. “Fine,” she mumbles, not at all encouraged by the toy comment. “How about tonight when I get home we have a Daddy and Nova night?” She perks up. “We’ll order pizza and rent a movie—” “And have a tea party!” she adds. “It’s a date.” “Yay!” Nova jumps out of my lap and grabs my mom’s hand. “Come on, Grandma. Now we can go home and unpack your bags.” Mom smiles at Lennon and me as Nova drags her toward the front door.

“Will you do the laundry, too?” Dad asks. “I’m too little to do laundry, Papa!” Nova’s boisterous voice is cut off when they shut the front door softly behind them. “Your parents are amazing,” Lennon says, staring at the door before turning toward me. “Thank you.” “Do they watch Nova all the time?” “She went to daycare up until last year, but when Mom and Dad retired, they started keeping her. Saves me some money, and they get to spoil her.” Lennon laughs. “That must be nice.” “You know what else would be nice?” Standing up, I hold my hand out for Lennon. She slips her fingers in mine, and I pull her into my arms. “Mmmm… What’s that?” she mumbles. I place my lips on the curve of Lennon’s neck. She drops her head to the side, giving me more room. “If you have dinner with us tomorrow night.” I trail my lips along the delicate slope of her neck until I reach her ear. Her entire body shivers, and I grin against her skin. “With you and Nova?” “No,” I say soberly. “With me and Santa Claus.” She swats my arm, and I laugh. “Of course with me and Nova.” Lennon’s lips stretch wide across her face. Funny enough, as her smile grows, so does my heart. Too much. “Well, that depends,” Lennon says, threading her arms around my waist. “On what?” “On what you’re making.” “Baby, I’ll make whatever you want as long as you say yes.” “Yes.” She kisses me. “Yes.” She kisses me again, but this time I slip my tongue between her perfect lips, and she moans, her body melting against mine. But then she pulls back. “No.” Shaking her head, she wipes a finger across her lips. “We can’t kiss like that.” “Why the hell not?” “Because when you kiss me like that, I get all hot and bothered—” I give her a look. “I like you hot and bothered.” She giggles, the sound shooting straight to my cock. “I know you do, but you have to go to work, and if you send me home like this, I’ll have no choice but to touch myself.” Thoughts, meet brick fucking wall. Pulling her body impossibly close to mine, I kiss her. Hard. I throw every emotion, every thought, every need into this one kiss, and afterward her eyes are hooded and her chest is heaving. “Don’t touch yourself unless I’m with you, understand?” My words pull her heavy lids up, and her eyes lock tight with mine. “I want your pleasure to be mine, Lennon.” I’ll never get tired of saying things that make her cheeks flush. Lennon buries her face in my chest and mumbles something, but I can’t make it out.



I close the top of the grill, hesitating at the sound of Nova’s tinkling laughter. Quietly, I slip through the patio doors into the kitchen and watch Lennon and Nova, something I’m finding I enjoy immensely. Seeing the two of them interact makes me hope for things I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. Everything Lennon does makes me fall a little bit more. It’s the way she fits right in with my family, and the way she is with my daughter. It’s how comfortable she looks moving around my house, as though she’s always belonged here. When Lennon showed up tonight, at five o’clock on the dot, she handed me a bottle of wine and walked right on past me and straight to Nova. They’ve been inseparable ever since. “Okay!” Lennon rubs her hands together, way too excited about the cookies she’s about to make. “Dump that in.” Nova, standing on a chair, picks up the cup of flour and dumps it in. “Now what?” “Now we stir.” Lennon offers Nova a giant spoon, but she doesn’t immediately take it. “Here,” Lennon says, motioning for her to do the honors. “But Daddy doesn’t let me stir. He says I make a mess.” Smiling to myself, I wait to see what Lennon will do. Bending down to Nova’s level, Lennon puts the spoon in Nova’s hand. “Practice makes perfect, and if you make a mess, I’ll help you clean it up.” I’m so proud of Nova, my little rule follower. She looks up at Lennon, still unsure. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure,” Lennon says, patting her on the back. With a look of determination, Nova grips the spoon and gets right down to business spinning and whipping the utensil around like it’s her job. Lennon reaches into the bag of chocolate chips, grabs a few, and pops them into her mouth. Then she grabs a few more and pops them into Nova’s, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Does your daddy let you eat the chocolate chips?” Lennon asks, licking chocolate off of one of her fingers. Nova shakes her head, dark curls bouncing around. “No. He says we have to save them for the cookies.” Lennon drops her jaw dramatically, making Nova giggle. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” “I don’t know.” Nova shrugs, continuing to stir the dough, her little arm going slower with each pass. Lennon gives them each one more helping of chocolate chips before reaching for the spoon. “Here, want me to help?” Nodding, Nova pulls the spoon from the bowl, and a chunk of dough goes flying, smacking Lennon

right in the face. Nova’s eyes widen, and Lennon freezes, her hands in midair. Ever so slowly, Lennon wipes the dough off her face with her finger and pops it into her mouth. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Lennon asks, as she dips a different finger into the bowl. She scoops some out. Shaking her head, Nova laughs. “What’re you gonna do with that?” she asks, pointing to the dough on Lennon’s finger. “This?” Lennon asks, twirling her finger around. Nova nods and Lennon puts the dough into her mouth. She grabs the spoon, sticks it back into the bowl, and gets another scoop. “What you should be asking is what am I going to do with this?” Before Nova has a chance to ask, Lennon flings the dough at my daughter, who bursts into a fit of giggles when it splatters against her cheek. “What is going on here?” I step into the room, finally making myself known, and both girls whip around. Nova’s face is lit up like a Christmas tree, her smile unwavering even though she just got caught having a food fight—something she knows is against the rules. Pointing a finger at Nova, Lennon says, “She started it.” Completely surprised at being thrown under the bus, Nova shakes her head, but she’s laughing too hard to form words. I swipe my finger across Nova’s cheek, gathering dough, and put it into my mouth. “Tastes good,” I say, turning my attention to Lennon. The smile dies on my face when I see her holding another spoonful of dough. I narrow my eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Do it!” Nova jumps from the chair and runs behind Lennon. “Do it!” she yells. “Lennon,” I warn. “Noah,” she says, mocking me with her sweeter-than-sin voice. “Put the spoon down—” Cookie dough smacks me in the mouth, cutting off my words, and with a squeak, Lennon drops the spoon and spins around to scoop up Nova. My daughter in her arms, she takes off through the house as I give chase. “Down the hall!” Nova yells, squealing when Lennon makes a hard right around the corner. She disappears out of sight, but I catch up, throwing my foot in front of Nova’s door before Lennon can shut it. I tackle them both, and we all land on the bed. One hand on Lennon, the other on Nova, I tickle them until they’re gasping and begging me to stop. Then I tickle them some more. “Stoooop,” Lennon says, laughing. She squirms, throwing herself to the side, but she can’t seem to escape my fingers of fury. “Oh God!” she gasps, trying to catch her breath. “Stop!” “I gotta pee,” Nova wails. My fingers circle around her belly, hitting the spot along her ribcage that I know will make her squirm, and her face scrunches up in one of those silent laughs. Her mouth is wide open, but not a sound comes out until she sucks in a breath and yells, “You’re gonna make me pee!” I stop tickling Nova. “Well, don’t pee on the bed, silly.” I give her a light shove, and she rolls off the side of the mattress, landing on her feet, and darts down the hall. Taking full advantage of the moment alone, I stop tickling Lennon and instead trail my fingers up her side, grazing the outer curve of her breast. Her laughter fades into a faint moan, and the air around us crackles. I smirk when I see the lower part of her cheek. “What?” “You’ve got something…” I brush my finger along her skin, and her eyes follow my hand when I lift my finger to my mouth. “Did you get it?” she asks, her voice low and husky. I shake my head, lowering my lips to hers. I kiss her softly and drag my mouth along her jaw line. She

trembles under my touch, and the caveman in me wants nothing more than strip her naked and bury myself inside of her. But the father in me knows that’s not possible. “There,” I whisper, kissing her ear. “Got it.” “Hmm… Pity.” We hear the toilet flush, and Lennon slides out from under me. “Time’s up.” “Not quite.” Pushing up off the bed, I wrap her in my arms. “She still has to wash her hands. We have at least—” I don’t get to finish talking because Lennon drives her fingers into my hair and presses her lips against mine. It’s clear she doesn’t want to waste a second, and neither do I. Unfortunately for the both of us, that second is up way too soon. The water in the bathroom shuts off, and Lennon moves away. “You should probably go check on the food.” Fuck the food. I’d rather eat you.

I am screwed. So screwed. I fell in love with Nova, and now here I am, standing outside of her room trying desperately not to fall in love with her father. It’s nearly impossible, what with the way he treats her. How could a woman not fall for someone like him? Sexy, smart, and he’s an amazing father. He’s the whole package wrapped up in delicious ink. Ink that I’d very much like to spend more time exploring. And I’ve only known him a week. Wow, has it only been a week since I ran Noah off the road? Can you fall for someone that fast? I wouldn’t know. I dated Mathis for a year before I fell in love with him, and now, as I watch Noah read his daughter a story and feel the tightening in my chest, I’m not really sure I was ever in love with Mathis. Because this, what I’m feeling tonight, I never felt with him. “The end.” I take a deep breath when Noah shuts the book, determined not to think too hard about things. Just go with the flow. See what happens. No matter what, I can’t regret a single second spent with him thus far. Even when he was being an ass. After our spaghetti dinner, Noah gave Nova a bath while I cleaned up, and then we watched a movie —her choosing of course—and then it was bedtime. We sat out on the porch swing, and Noah and Nova pointed out constellations, laughing at my inability to find any of them, and now here we are. Lucky for me, Noah left the door cracked, probably not expecting me to eavesdrop on their nighttime routine, which is exactly what I’m doing. Nova worships her father, and it’s impossible not to watch the two of them together. “That’s my favorite story,” Nova says, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Caressing Nova’s face, Noah leans down and kisses her forehead. “Why do you like that story so much?” “Because the princess marries the prince.” Nova yawns, curling up against the side of her dad. “You’re my prince, Daddy,” she says, her eyelids bobbing several times before finally shutting.

Sliding off the bed, Noah drops to his knees, nuzzling his face against Nova’s. Her eyelids open, a faint smile pulling at her lips. “And you’ll always be my princess,” he whispers. That thing I was desperately trying not to do? Well, it just happened. I press a hand to my chest, trying to hold on to anything and everything I have left of my heart, but it’s too late. I’ve fallen, and fallen hard. I just hope this beautiful man is there to catch me. Deciding to give them some privacy, and myself a much-needed breather, I step away from Nova’s door and walk into the living room. I grab my sketchpad from my purse and curl up on the couch. My pen meets the paper as our evening on the front porch, watching the sunset and looking at stars, fuels my imagination. I’m halfway through a dress design when my phone vibrates, signaling a text. Charlotte: How was dinner? I have found such a good friend in Charlotte, and I love that she’s checking up on me. She’s the only person here that I really talk to, and she knows how nervous I was about tonight. Me: Great. Three little dots bounce on the screen, and I sit down on the couch, waiting for her message to come through. Charlotte: That’s it? Just great? Come on, throw me a bone. Or a boner. Either will do ; ) Me: There aren’t many details. We ate, we watched a movie, and Nova just went to bed. Charlotte: Ooooh…the child is in bed. Now it’s time to get freaky. Laughing, I shake my head. This woman seriously needs to get laid. Me: There will be no getting freaky! Charlotte: You’re no fun. “I agree with Charlotte.” I whirl around at the sound of Noah’s voice behind me. He walks around the couch and sits down next to me. “What’s this?” he asks, motioning toward my sketch pad. “Just a design I was working on.” I hand him the pad, and he examines it. “Were you reading my texts, sir?” “I like this,” he says, tapping the paper before setting it on the coffee table. “I want to see more.” Grabbing my hand, Noah tugs me toward him until I’m practically in his lap. “And yes, I was reading your text. Does that make you mad?” Tossing my phone on the table, I shake my head. “Not at all.” And that’s the God’s honest truth. “Mathis used to hate when I’d answer his phone or read a text over his shoulder.” I pause before adding. “Turns out there was a good reason why.” “Who’s Mathis?” “My ex.” “We need to rethink our sitting position for this talk.” Noah pulls his wallet and phone from his front pocket and sets them on the table alongside mine. Sliding his hand along my hip, he guides me onto his lap, and I’m not about to fight him. Okay, maybe just a bit, because there is a little girl to think about. “What about Nova?” “What about her?” he asks, situating me until my knees press into the fabric on either side of his hips as I straddle him. Both palms pressed against my thighs, he squeezes gently. “She sleeps like a rock. A tornado could roll through here, and she still wouldn’t wake up.” “Impressive.” Noah smiles. “That she is.”

Splaying my hands against Noah’s chest, I gradually slide them up as I push my body down, grinding myself against his hardness. Noah’s grip on my legs tightens. I love knowing I have this effect on him. “I wasn’t talking about Nova.” “Lennon.” Noah makes a sound low in his throat. “Are you trying to distract me?” “I’m always trying to distract you. Distraction leads to fun, fun things.” And I want to talk about Mathis about as much as I want a bullet in the head. “And I enjoy being distracted, but I want you to tell me about Mathis.” “Mathis who?” Noah chuckles. “Fine. You win.” “No,” I groan. “Don’t let me off the hook that easily. You told me about Kim, so it’s only fair I tell you about Mathis.” “Is that his real name, Mathis?” “Yes.” Laughing, I sit back on Noah’s lap, determined to choose my words carefully. “We met in college. He was my first real boyfriend. At the time, I thought he was perfect. Always the gentleman, he opened doors, held my hand, and took me on fun dates. I should’ve known he was too good to be true.” Sighing, I shake my head. “I was naïve. Young and stupid. In year three, he proposed.” Noah‘s lips part, and I wince. “I said yes,” I say softly. “And in year five, we broke up.” “Wait. That’s it? I feel like there’s an entire story tucked away in there somewhere.” Falling forward, I drop my forehead to his chest and mumble, “That’s because there is.” I take a ragged breath in, and when I release it, I cast my memory back in time to tell Noah what happened: “Mat?” I call out, quickly realizing he probably can’t hear me because Nirvana is blaring through the surround sound. Shutting the door, I drop my purse on the entryway table, kick off my shoes, and walk upstairs. The faint sound of a woman giggling brings me to an abrupt halt. Every hair on my body stands up. I listen quietly, wondering if my ears are playing tricks on me. But sure enough, there it is again, and that’s definitely a woman. Slowly, I tiptoe toward Mathis’s room. The door is halfway open, and what I find nearly brings me to my knees. “That’s it, baby,” Mathis croons. Sliding his hand up the woman’s thigh, he brings her leg around his hip and sinks into her. My stomach churns, and when he pushes his body against hers, the woman drops her head back on the pillow. My entire world tilts on its axis. Oh God, no! Lizzie. My best friend buries her head in my pillow—my pillow—as a breathy moan falls from her lips. I’m frozen in place, completely stuck, unable to move because this has to be a bad dream. It has to be. Mathis wouldn’t do this to me, and neither would Lizzie. They just wouldn’t. Shaking my head, I bring a hand to my mouth and watch the horrid scene unfold in front of me. Neither one of them notices me standing in the doorway. The minutes tick by, and with each passing second, my disbelief and hurt turn more into pure, white anger. Taking my phone out, I pull up my camera, switch it to video, and hit record. I’m not doing it to be malicious—I won’t be selling it to the tabloids. I’m doing it as a reminder, because I know Mathis. He’ll try to worm his way back into my life, and I need to be able to remind myself exactly what happened, remind myself that I deserve better than someone like him. I watch through the screen as Mathis brings Lizzie to the brink. He pumps his hips several more times, and when he collapses on top of her, I tuck my phone back into my pocket.

I applaud them as I saunter into the room. Their heads whip around, and Lizzie scrambles to cover herself. Mathis flies off of the bed, and I have to stifle a laugh. The look on their faces is absolutely priceless, and then they both start yammering as I reach under the bed and pull out a bag I stuffed there several months ago. “Oh God, Leni.” Wrapping the sheet around her body, Lizzie jumps off the bed. “Leni, I’m so sorry. Please—” “What the fuck are you doing, Leni?” Mathis growls, cutting Lizzie off. Stupid fucking asshole. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing? That’s what I want to say, but I keep my lips sealed tight. They don’t deserve my anger or my pain. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Mathis reaches for my bag and tries to pull it from my hand, but I’ve got a death grip on it. “She means nothing to me,” he declares, following me around the room. “She came on to me, and I was weak. I was weak, baby. I had been drinking and—” His words stop when Lizzie smacks him across the face. “You son of a bitch,” she sneers, jamming a finger in his chest. “How dare you make this out to be my fault? You’ve been trying to get in my pants since we met.” “And I didn’t have to try very fucking hard, did I?” I take a deep breath, feeling the blood rushing through my ears. Coupled with the tightness in my throat, I know I’m moments from falling apart. Pulling open a drawer, I scoop out a few sets of lingerie, leaving the ones Mathis bought me behind. I open the closet door and start yanking clothes off the hangers, shoving them into the bag. It isn’t until a hand wraps around my upper arm that I allow the noise from the room to filter back in. “What the hell are you doing?” Mathis yells, pulling me out of the closet. “You’re not leaving.” “The hell I’m not.” Four words. That’s all he’s going to get from me. Four words that will cut the son of a bitch from my life for good. Mathis’s eyes widen, and for the first time since I walked in, I see true fear there. He knows I’m serious. “Please. Please don’t do this.” He holds his hands out, trying to calm me. “I swear to you that nothing like this will ever happen again.” Pushing my way around him, I reach for my sandals in the corner of the room, stuff them in the bag, and head out the door with Lizzie and Mathis hot on my heels. “Leni, please,” Lizzie begs. “Please don’t leave like this. Let me explain. You’re my best friend!” Coming to a sudden stop, I whirl around. Mathis manages not to run into me, but Lizzie slams into his back. “What did you say?” I sneer. Lizzie steps out from behind Mathis. Tears run down her flushed cheeks, and she makes no attempt to wipe them away. “I said you’re my best friend.” I shake my head, but she nods and keeps talking. “Yes, you are. You’re my best friend, and if you’ll just let me explain this—” “There’s nothing to explain. If you were my best friend, you wouldn’t have fucked my fiancé. It’s as simple as that.” I’m both surprised and proud at how calm my voice is. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Liz. Or yours,” I add, turning to Mathis with bile rising in my throat. “You two deserve each other.” “No,” Lizzie cries, throwing herself at me. “Please. Please, Leni.” “Leni.” Mathis’s voice is thick with emotion, but I don’t turn around to look at either one of them. Determined to put this chapter of my life behind me, I simply walk out the front door, get in

my car, and drive to my parents’ house, hoping to talk to Helga. As fate would have it, Helga isn’t home, but my mother is. Lips parted, eyes wide, and that unruly lock of hair in his face again, Noah watches me. “What did your mom say?” he asks, rubbing his hands along my thighs. “She told me to toughen up and get over it.” His hands stop. “Are you serious?” “Yes. She said men like Mathis need to sow their wild oats before settling down and that I shouldn’t really care anyway because Mathis was going to give me everything I’d ever dreamed of.” “And what did you say?” Pursing my lips, I shrug. “I told her I didn’t want to hear it, and I walked out.” “Well, I’m proud of you for standing up to her, and I’m sorry that happened,” he says, his fingers now fiddling with the bottom of my shirt. “Don’t be. Finding Mathis and Lizzie in bed together was the wake-up call I needed. I moved on with my life, and really started to live. I quit caring about pleasing my parents and started to do things for me.” “What kinds of things?” “Well, I quit my job as a CPA and started to focus on sewing and design. I’ve built up quite a portfolio, but there’s always room for more.” “Tell me about your designs.” “Do you find it odd that you’re wanting to talk and all I can think about is getting you naked?” Noah captures my wandering hand, bringing it to his lips. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t want you naked beneath me.” He kisses my knuckles. “But like I told you before, I want us to date, and talking and getting to know each other is part of dating.” “Yes, I’m aware, but so is getting naked. In fact, if you strip me down, I’ll let you get to know me on a much more personal level.”



With her hand wrapped in mine, I lead Lennon down the hall and push my bedroom door open. What else is a hot-blooded man to do when his woman practically begs to get naked? “Tonight’s going to be a little different, sweetheart.” Lennon steps into my room and turns toward me. “What do you mean?” “My daughter is down the hall.” “I thought you said she slept like a log?” “She does, but this is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this with her in the house, and I don’t want to take any chances.” “We don’t have to do anything tonight, Noah. I’m more than happy to go back to the couch and talk.” Lennon closes the gap between us and runs her hands up my arms. “As long as there will be kissing involved.” “I don’t want to talk anymore.” “All the blood has already rushed from one head to other, then?” she asks, flicking the button on my jeans. I nod. “The second you said you wanted to get me naked.” Gripping Lennon’s wrist, I remove her hand from my pants and lock the door. “Now I want you to get naked for me, beautiful.” My eyes trained on hers, I see the exact moment my request registers. Her breath quickens, desire flickering in her beautiful blue eyes—the same desire that’s pumping through my veins. Leaving Lennon standing in the middle of my room, I sit down on the edge of my bed and cock an eyebrow. She swallows, and with a smile designed to bring a man to his knees, she lifts her shirt over her head and tosses it to the floor. The breath catches in my throat. She’s a blessed fucking angel. From her pouty lips to her perky breasts, all the way down to her tight ass. Biting on her bottom lip, Lennon steps out of her shorts and stands in front of me in nothing but a pink, lacy bra and matching panties. “Take them off.” Eyes narrowed, Lennon does as I ask. She flicks the front clasp of her bra, allowing the silky material to fall to the floor. At least that’s where I think it falls; I don’t bother to look because my eyes are full of her breasts. Her nipples pucker under the heat of my gaze, which is drawn downward as Lennon slips off her underwear. “Fucking beautiful.” “What about you?” “Hell, no.” I shake my head, dragging my eyes back up her body. “I’m not near as beautiful as you.”

Lennon fights a smile. “That’s not what I meant.” I grin. “What did you mean?” My pants are already undone, thanks to this gorgeous woman, but the longer she stands in front of me naked, the harder my cock gets. What I’m about to do is going to be torture, but worth every fucking second. She nods toward me. “Aren’t you going to get undressed?” “No.” I shake my head. “Remember I said tonight was going to be different?” “Yes…” Her smile falters. “Well, this is the different part. Tonight is about you.” Pushing off the bed, I close the distance between us in two long strides. Unable to help myself, I run the back of my hand down Lennon’s chest, over a breast, grazing her nipple. Stepping behind her, I flatten my palm against her belly and lower my fingers until they meet her pussy. “Noah—” I cup my other hand over her mouth. Bringing my lips to her ear, I whisper, “Tonight I need you to be quiet.” Lennon glances over her shoulder, her eyes filled with excitement and trepidation. “Can you do that for me?” She nods. “Because we don’t want Nova to hear us.” I slide my fingers along her folds, then push into her tight, wet heat. Lennon moans when I add a second finger and throws her head back against my chest. I quickly withdraw my hand and take a step back. Without my body to lean on, Lennon sags, and she whines at the loss of my hand. “Quiet.” Lennon whips her head around, her eyebrows raised, but she doesn’t dare say a word. “Do you want my hands on you?” She nods. “You’re soaked, Lennon. Are you always this wet when you’re around me?” She nods again, her eyes glazing over. “Get on the bed.” Swallowing hard, she does as I ask, situating herself against the pillows on my California king. I don’t dare get up there with her, because if I do, I’ll have no choice but to fuck her, and right now I have other things planned. Better things. I want to push Lennon’s limits, see how far she’ll go and how well she’ll listen. This isn’t my sort of thing, ordering women around, but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t bring out an entirely different side of me. “Spread your legs.” Leaning back, Lennon slides her heels up the comforter, bending her knees, putting her pussy on full display. My mouth waters at the sight of her swollen clit, and I have to shove my hands in my pockets to keep myself from reaching out for her. “Touch yourself, Lennon. Show me how much you want me.” Lust-fueled sparks shoot through my body, making it nearly impossible to keep myself rooted to the floor. It takes every ounce of control I have not to replace her hand with my mouth when she pushes a finger deep inside her pussy. When she pulls it out, she swirls the pad of her finger around her clit before shoving two more fingers back inside. “Does that feel good?” My voice is as raw as the look in her eyes when her heavy gaze finds mine. “Does it turn you on, knowing that I’m watching, wishing it was my mouth on your pussy instead of your fingers?” I keep my voice low, but firm, and if it weren’t for her eyes flaring to life, I wouldn’t know if

she’d even heard me. “Because you’re turning me the fuck on. My cock is begging for your pussy, begging to be wrapped up inside of you.” “Oh God.” Lennon’s back arches off the pillows, her eyes closing, and just when I think she’s going to moan, she doesn’t, instead pinching her lips together as her fingers move faster. “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” She’s squirming, her hips rocking, urgently seeking release, and when her cheeks flush and her legs begin to tremble, I take a step forward. Wrapping my hand around her wrist, I pull her hand away from her body. Her eyes fly open. They’re wide and wild, and if I weren’t holding on to her, she’d surely smack me, because I just stole the thing she desperately wants. Chest heaving, she watches as I prop a knee up on the bed. Unable to resist, I lift her fingers to my mouth, but Lennon quickly jerks her arm, instead guiding them toward her own. Her lips part, and she slides her fingers into her mouth and sucks. “Fucking hell,” I curse, climbing all the way up on the bed. I situate myself between Lennon’s thighs, her eyes finding mine. “Do you remember what I told you yesterday? Your pleasure is mine, Lennon.” Slowly, deliberately, she pulls her fingers from her mouth, daring me take a taste. “Do you taste as sweet as you smell?” Noah asks. What I want to say is why can you talk if I can’t, but I quickly realize what he’s doing. Noah’s testing me, pushing me, trying to see if he can get me to crack while simultaneously turning me the hell on. When I don’t answer, Noah lowers his head, wraps his lips around my clit and sucks. His tongue plunges inside of me, and I nearly lose the challenge right then and there. Biting the inside of my cheek, I vow not to make a sound, but with each swipe of his tongue I lose a tiny piece of control. I close my eyes and thread my fingers into Noah’s shaggy hair, holding him against me. I rock my hips against his face, silently urging him on and telling him how much I love what he’s doing. My lips part. It’s difficult to stay quiet, to keep my feelings to myself. There’s nothing I want more than to urge him with my words. Yes, that—keep doing that. Faster, Noah, please. Oh God, yes, do that again. Every nerve in my body is firing, and I’m sure one more flick of his tongue will light me up like a firework. “God, Lennon.” Noah pulls back, his voice rough, his focus between my legs. “I can’t get enough of you.” Dipping two fingers inside of me, Noah quickly adds a third, stretching my body. The fullness is almost too much, and my back arches. “Are you as turned on as I am?” he asks. My eyes linger on his broad shoulders. Seeing his big, strong body between my thighs, his mouth glistening and his fingers moving in and out of me, is one of the most erotic things I’ve ever witnessed. I nod, biting my bottom lip. His eyes smolder. “Is it because you can’t make a sound? Or because of us?” Noah pulls his fingers from my body and licks them clean, much the same way I did moments ago. “Because it’s never been like

this for me, Lennon.” His voice is thick with emotion as he crawls up my body. “I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you right now.” My eyes frantically search his, and I break all the rules. “Noah.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull his mouth to mine. “Please,” I beg. “I need you.” When he pulls back, his eyes are brimming with equal parts affection and determination. “Flip over, baby. Get on your knees.” Desperate for his touch, I get up on all fours. With a gentle hand pressed to the center of my back, Noah pushes my chest down against the pillows. Hooking his fingers around my hips he lifts my ass into the air and knees my legs apart. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” As he whispers the words against my flushed skin, his fingers slide up the back of my thigh. He kneads my ass before sliding two fingers inside of me. Thrusting my hips back at him, I try to encourage him to go faster, deeper, harder, but his deep chuckle tells me he’s having no part of it. Clenching my fists against the comforter, I swivel my hips as he slowly drives me insane. My eyes roll back in my head when Noah spreads his fingers, sliding them along my pussy as his tongue dives into me. Lennon followed my lead, trusting me to make her feel good, and the sound of her finally begging, telling me she needed me, pushed me over the edge. I’ll be damned if that plea didn’t turn me on more than her ability to keep quiet while I feasted on her body. Now I’m about to feast on her body some more before I give us both what we’re dying for. Making a V, I push two fingers along the length of her pussy, massaging her clit as my tongue dips inside. She tastes amazing. Like ecstasy. Like paradise. Like forever. And she’s all mine. She’s my little slice of heaven. Lennon’s body tightens, her ass shoving backward at a frenzied pace. I run my free hand up the globe of her ass, smacking lightly before I drag my finger down the seam, stopping when I hit puckered skin. Lennon bucks backward before pushing her face further into the bed, no doubt smothering whatever sounds she needs to make with the pillow. Her body shakes, her clit throbbing against the pad of my thumb, and when I feel her body go lax against me, I move back. Unable to wait a second longer, I slide off the bed and kick my jeans away as Lennon floats back down to Earth. She buries herself in my comforter, a sigh of contentment on her lips. I stare at her, all warm, pink skin and glowing eyes, as she peeks up at me from under a lock of hair. Her grin knocks me on my ass. “I need to be inside of you.” The weight of my strangled words causes her grin to fade. Her eyes drop to my hand, which is wrapped around my cock. With languid movements, Lennon sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed. She lies on her back, tipping her head over the side of the mattress, and looks up at me. Wrapping her fingers around my cock,

she guides me to her mouth. Not exactly what I was thinking, but I’m not about to complain. Her tongue darts out, licking the drop of precum off before swirling around the head and sucking. I groan through clenched teeth. Placing my hands along the soft curve of her neck, I hold her steady as I slide inside her mouth. She moans. I can’t hear it over the blood rushing through my ears, but I can feel the vibrations against my shaft. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” She takes me deeper, as though my words fuel her efforts. I squeeze my eyes shut when my cock hits the back of her throat. “Goddamn, Lennon. So good. So fucking good.” My balls tighten, drawing upward, and I gently pull away. “On the bed, baby. I need to be inside of you.” “You were inside of me,” she says, licking her lips. “Wrong spot, beautiful.” Lennon slides to a sitting position and scoots back on the bed. She spreads her legs. The sight of her, still swollen and wet, will fuel my fantasies for years to come. “Do you want to be in here?” she asks, rubbing a finger along her slit. “Fuck, yes.” “Say it,” she demands, fighting back a grin. My sassy girl just turned the tables, and I love it. Gripping my cock in my hand, I stroke from base to tip. “I want to put my cock inside of your pussy, Lennon.” Her tongue darts out, wetting her pouty lips. I crawl on to the bed, covering her body with mine. The weight of the moment and the emotion I’m feeling settle heavy in my chest. All joking and playfulness aside, I say, “Please, baby.” Oh, my heart. Noah reaches across the bed, snagging a condom from the nightstand. “Let me make love to you.” No man has ever asked to make love to me. Mathis always just took what he wanted. I like this so much more. Noah respects me. He respects my body and my heart, and I know he would never take something from me without asking. Noah’s eyes widen when I wiggle out from underneath him. With both hands on his chest, I press him back against the pillows and crawl on top of him. He digs his fingers into my hips. “I thought you were going to tell me no.” He smiles, trying to infuse the moment with humor, but it doesn’t work. The vulnerability in his voice and his eyes gives him away. “For the record,” I say, taking the condom out of his hand. “I have a feeling I’ll never be able to tell you no.” His vulnerability dissipates, making room for a sexy smile. “Is that so?” I rip the foil, slide the condom on him, and toss the wrapper off to the side. With my hands pressed to his chest, I lift my hips. Noah guides his cock to my entrance, and inch by delicious inch, I welcome him into my body. I lower my elbows to the bed, cradling Noah’s head in my hands, and I swallow his moan with a kiss. My hips move slowly at first, savoring the feel of him as he slides in and out in gentle strokes. Noah’s

hands are everywhere—squeezing my ass, gripping my hips, fondling my breasts. He can’t get enough of me, and I love it. Eventually his hands slide up my spine and tangle in my hair. “You feel incredible,” he whispers, never taking his eyes off of mine. “Noah…” My words trail off because I’m at a complete loss. I’ve never felt anything like this, emotionally or physically. Our connection is indescribable. The need to make him feel good, to bring him to the edge and push him over, grows with each moan. Shifting, I sit up. With one hand on Noah’s rock hard abs, the other behind me on his thigh, I roll my hips several times before lifting up and dropping back down. Noah spends several moments pinching and flicking, pushing me further and further toward the proverbial edge. “If you keep doing that, I won’t last long,” I say as I grind my pelvis against his. “Fuck.” Suddenly he shoots up, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss. I wrap my legs around his waist, rocking into him again. Squeezing a hand between our slick bodies, Noah finds my clit, and I cry out as my orgasm slams into me. My body goes slack in his arms. He pumps once, twice, and a third time before growling out his own release. This moment is beyond perfect, and neither one of us makes a move. We’re both panting, our sweatslicked bodies pressed together, and he’s still inside of me. “Lennon.” Noah presses a kiss to the base of my neck, reigniting every nerve in my body. He cradles my face in his hands and drops his forehead to mine. “What’s wrong?” He gives a slight shake of his head. “Nothing. Nothing with this or with you is wrong. That’s the thing.” He blows out a breath. “It feels so right. It feels like a freefall, and I can’t catch my breath. And the view is spectacular, but—” “Keep falling,” I beg, kissing him. “Please keep falling. Enjoy the view, and trust me to catch you. Because I will,” I whisper. “I promise I’ll catch you.” Noah sighs, his sweet breath fanning my face. It’s a silent sound of relief. A sound that vibrates inside of my soul.



“Go, Nova! Run!” I jump from my chair, watching Nova kick the ball down the field. She’s laughing, her little legs carrying her as fast as they can go. “Run, Nova, run!” She skids to a stop several feet from the goal, rears her leg back to kick, and the ball goes flying into the goal just as the whistle blows. “They won!” I turn to Charlotte and then back toward the field. Throwing her hands in the air, Nova runs straight into Noah’s waiting arms. “Well, if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Charlotte says, popping a Starburst into her mouth. “So sexy.” I drop back onto my chair, watching Noah twirl his daughter. After a few seconds, she wiggles out of his hold and takes off to celebrate with her friends, leaving Noah and a few other men to clean up the bench after the game. “So…” I glance over at Charlotte. “What?” “So how’s it going with naughty Noah and the kid?” “Charlotte,” I hiss, looking around to make sure no one heard. “I never should’ve told you about that.” It’s been five days since Noah and I made love. Late that night I snuck out of his room and out of the house. Noah wanted me to stay, but neither of us wanted to take the chance of Nova finding us in bed the next morning. We’ve spent every evening together since. We’ve had dinner, watched movies, played soccer. Nova and I gave each other manicures and, much to her delight, had an evening of playing dress-up. So while I’ve gotten to know Nova on a much deeper level, I haven’t been able to touch Noah. Turns out, the ultimate cock-blocker comes in the form of a fiveyear-old girl. I’m not usually one to kiss and tell, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t squeal a few sexy details to Charlotte, who has been taunting me with them ever since. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have. I’ll never look at that man the same way again.” Charlotte makes a purring sound, which turns into a chuckle when I shove my elbow into her arm. “Okay, fine,” she concedes, rubbing her bicep. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll stop.” “Thank you.” “So how are things with the cock-blocker?” “Charlotte,” I hiss again. “Are you going to repeat every little thing I tell you?” “No.” She shakes her head, tossing another Starburst into her mouth. “Not every little thing.”

“For the record, things are going fine.” “So you’ve told her about the two of you?” “No,” I say. “Not exactly.” “There is no ‘not exactly.’ Either you have or you haven’t.” “It’s not that easy,” I explain. “Nova is five, and she’s never seen her father date, so we’re going to take things slow. Plus, we’ve only known each other a few weeks. I’m sure there’s some sort of rule about these things.” “There is no rule,” she proclaims around the sugary goodness in her mouth. I snag a Starburst out of her lap. “Why do you only eat the pink ones?” I ask, popping a red one in my mouth. “That’s a stupid question.” “There is no such thing as a stupid question.” Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Bullshit.” She points at me. “You know as well as I do that that’s something parents and teachers tell kids to keep them from feeling like shit for asking a stupid question. And that, sweet Lennon, was a stupid question. Everyone knows the pink Starbursts are superior.” “Says you.” “Whatever.” Charlotte picks out all of the pink ones and dumps the rest in my lap. “Don’t try to change the subject. We’re not talking about my addiction to pink Starbursts; we’re talking about you and your hotas-fuck love life.” “You need to get laid.” “Tell me about it.” “Evening, ladies.” Charlotte and I both peer up, blocking the evening sun with our hands. Mikey stands in front of us in his paramedic gear, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Charlotte perk up in her seat. “Hey, Mikey. Are you working today?” I ask. “You don’t listen very well, do ya?” He grins, shaking his head. “I told you, I always work.” “Right.” I nod, glancing toward Charlotte again. She’s now chewing at a snail’s pace, her eyes roaming over Mikey’s physique, and I see my first opportunity to play matchmaker. I turn back to Mikey. “Mikey, this is my friend Charlotte.” He holds out his hand and Charlotte takes it. “Charlotte, this is Noah’s friend Mikey.” He kisses her knuckles and says, “It’s always a pleasure meeting a beautiful woman.” Charlotte grins. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” “I would if they all looked like you.” Blushing, Charlotte slips her hand from his, and I clear my throat. “Mikey, Charlotte and I are going out for drinks this weekend, if you want to come,” I offer. “We are?” I nudge Charlotte, and she quickly recovers. “I mean, yes, we are. You should come.” Mikey turns his dark eyes toward Charlotte and smiles. Only it isn’t just any smile, because I’ve seen Mikey smile. This smile is blinding. It’s cocky, it’s panty-dropping, and he’s never smiled at me like that. Holy shit, I think he likes her. “Maybe I will,” he says. Then he disappears just as quickly as he showed up. “Well, that was awkward,” Charlotte mumbles, watching Mikey’s ass as he walks away. “Lennon! Lennon!” Nova comes running across the field, sliding to a stop in front of us. “Did you see me make that goal?” “I did! You were the best player out there!” I hold my hand in the air, and she slaps it.

“Come on, Nova!” One of her teammates grabs her arm, dragging her away. “Let’s go to the park.” “Bye, Lennon!” I wave my fingers, watching as the two girls hightail it toward the playground that sits adjacent to the soccer fields. “Houston, we have a problem,” Charlotte says. When I turn to her, she nods toward the field, and I follow her line of sight. Noah is walking across the green grass with a beautiful blond woman. My skin prickles as I take in her long legs, killer body, and stunning rack. “Who is that?” “Not a clue.” “Yes, well, she has a thing for your man,” Charlotte says. I take her words with a grain of salt and smile when they approach. Charlotte stands up first, and I quickly follow suit. “Where did Nova run off to?” Noah asks, looking around. “She went to the park,” I answer. The woman shoves her hand in my face. “I’m Kalyn, Marybeth’s mother.” I vaguely remember Noah mentioning something about Marybeth being one of Nova’s buddies. Taking a step back, I wrap her hand in mine and shake it lightly. “Lennon. And this is my friend Charlotte.” Charlotte matches Kalyn’s fake smile head on, and I’m both surprised and impressed. Charlotte may look sweet as pie, but she has some fire. “Do your girls play soccer, too?” Kalyn asks. Charlotte snorts. It’s incredibly unladylike, and Kalyn crinkles her nose. “Hell, no,” Charlotte says. “We don’t have kids.” “Oh.” Kalyn looks from us to Noah. “Lennon is my…” Noah looks to me for help. We haven’t really defined what we are, and telling Kalyn could potentially lead back to Nova. One thing Noah and I are sure of is that we want to be the ones to tell her. “Neighbor,” I offer. Charlotte gives me the side-eye, but I do my best to ignore it. All of the tension drains from Kalyn’s face, her shoulders sagging with relief. What the hell is that about? It’s like Penny all over again. “Oh good, because I was about to ask Noah out, and that could’ve gotten weird really quick,” she says, laughing awkwardly. My jaw drops to the floor, along with Noah’s. “You what?” he asks. “Well, yeah,” she says. “We’re both single. We get along great, and our daughters are best friends.” She shrugs. “I figured, why not?” I have to give this woman credit for having the balls to not just ask him out, but ask him out in front of two other women. I also want to shove her away, position myself between the two of them, and make it known that Noah is mine, but I won’t do that. And not because of Nova but because of the look on Kalyn’s face. “What do you say?” she asks with a little less certainty. Noah runs a hand through his hair, glancing at me apologetically before turning to Kalyn, who seems to have lost her resolve. “I’m flattered—I really am—but there’s something you should know.” Kalyn glances at Charlotte and me uncomfortably, and it’s clear she doesn’t want to have this conversation in front of us. Rejection is a bitch and hard to weather alone, much less with an audience, so I grab Charlotte’s arm.

“You know what? We’ll leave you two alone. We’ve got somewhere to be anyway.” Charlotte shrugs my arm off and sticks another Starburst in her mouth. “I’ve got nowhere to be.” “Yes, you do. We’ve got that thing.” “What thing?” Charlotte asks. I quickly scoop up our lawn chairs and nudge her toward the car. “See ya later, Noah. Bye, Kalyn. It was a pleasure meeting you.” Noah waves, his eyes begging me not to leave, and Kalyn smiles half-heartedly. “I take back what I said earlier,” Charlotte says, taking one of the lawn chairs from my arms. “That was awkward.”

Later that night, I’m crawling into bed, my sketch pad in hand, when my phone rings. Brenna’s name flashes across the screen. Shit. I don’t want to answer, because I already know we’ll end up in another fight. And I’m sick of fighting. I push the button to ignore the call. I’ve enjoyed my short time here in Heaven, and it isn’t necessarily because of Nova and Noah— although they play a big part. But I’ve enjoyed the quieter life. I’ve enjoyed exploring the little shops in town, getting to know the friendly locals, and seeing the potential all around me. I’m doing what I want when I want without having to answer to anyone. No publicist watching my every move, and no looking over my shoulder everywhere I go, wondering if the paparazzi are hiding around the corner, just waiting for me to screw something up. And I haven’t screwed anything up. I’ve made some mighty fine decisions —both business and personal—since I’ve been here, if I do say so myself. My phone vibrates again, but this time when I look down, I smile. Noah: How is your night going? Me: Better now that I’m talking to you. I snuggle into my covers, waiting for him to respond. Noah: I was going to call, but I didn’t want to wake you up. Me: I’m in bed, but you didn’t wake me up. Noah: Now we’re getting somewhere. Bed, huh? What are you wearing? I can’t help it, I grin. Me: Am I supposed to be wearing something? Noah: Fuuuuuuck Me: I can think of a few ways for you to come warm me up ; ) A few seconds later, my phone rings, and I pull it to my ear. “Hello?” Noah growls. “You’re killing me.” The sound of his voice is enough to send my body into overdrive. “In the best possible way though, right?” Because you’re killing me, too. “You have no idea.” I hear the sheets rustling, and I know he’s in bed. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be there next to him. “I think I have an idea.” “Are you really naked?” “Do you want me to be?”

“Damn,” he mumbles. “I would kill to be over there right now. You know that, don’t you? You know that if I didn’t have Nova here, I’d be there in a heartbeat.” “I know.” My heart melts at his sweet words. “I haven’t been inside of you in days.” His voice is low and raspy, his drawl much more prominent, something that happens when he’s turned on. “Soon.” “Really?” he admonishes. “Because I’m beginning to think it’ll never happen again.” I chuckle. “You miss my body that much, huh?” He’s silent for a few beats, and then he takes a deep breath and blows me away with his words. “It’s more than your body, Lennon. It’s your scent and the way it wraps itself around me. It’s the way your eyes sparkle when you smile and the sound of your laughter throughout my house. And how you are with my daughter. You’re amazing with her. You’re gentle and kind and loving and… it’s everything. It’s you. I miss you.” “Noah?” “What?” “Unlock your door.” I end the call, and two seconds later, I’m hauling ass out the front door in my pajamas. When I hit the bottom step of his porch and find Noah half-naked in front of his open door, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweats, I nearly lose my breath. I’m not sure if it’s the tattoos crawling up his arms, or the way he’s hanging on to the top of the door frame—it could even be his warm, brown eyes, which are eating me from top to bottom—but he looks different. “What took you so long?” His slow, sexy grin pulls me in, and I walk straight into his open arms. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and smile. “I had to put clothes on.” In an instant, Noah scoops me up, kicks the door shut, and is moving down his hall. “Why the hell would you do something like that?”



Noah strides through his house, not stopping until we’re in his room. There he slowly sets me down, but he doesn’t let me go. His arms stay wrapped around my body, his chest moving gently against mine. I wasn’t imagining it earlier; there is definitely something different about him. As I stand here trying to figure out what it is, Noah begins tugging at my clothes. “Let’s get you out of these.” My top goes first, followed by my shorts, and Noah grins when he finds me sans panties. “I told you I was naked.” “What’s it mean?” he asks, looking at my hip. “Nosce ti ipsum.” Brushing a finger over the three words inked on my left hip, I smile wistfully. “Know thyself.” “And do you? Know yourself?” “I’m getting there.” My eyes roam his body, taking in all of his ink. Three stars—one over his heart, one under his left pec, and the other just above his left hip. Clouds cover his left shoulder, traveling down his arm. I reach out, tracing the dove that flies through the sky. “Are the stars for Nova?” Noah nods, watching my finger skate over his body. “Yes.” “Why three?” “One for Nova and one each for my mom and dad.” “The three people you love the most.” It isn’t a question, and Noah doesn’t take it as one. Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he pulls my hand to the star over his heart. “This one is for Nova. I want to add to it. Maybe when I get married, or have more children, it’ll be a cluster.” “It’ll be beautiful.” Maybe someday there will be a star there for me. “What’s the dove for?” “Kim.” I look up. “She’s the mother of my child. She hurt me, but I hope she found peace.” The kindness in his voice says volumes about the man he is. “You gave her wings.” “Someone had to. Now, no more words, baby. I need you.” Before I can reach for Noah’s pants, he nudges me toward the bed, and I crawl under the soft, warm covers, watching as he moves across the room, flicks the lock on his door, and pulls off his pants and boxers.

My mouth waters at the sight of his gorgeous body, and I hold the covers up for him to come join me. Noah crawls into bed beside me, not on top of me as I had hoped. He studies me momentarily and then captures my lips in a slow, gentle kiss. “We need to talk.” Uh-oh. No conversation that starts with those four words can be good. “Okay,” I say. “About what?” My mind flashes back to when I left him standing on the soccer field with Kalyn, and my heart rate kicks up. “Does it have to do with Kalyn?” Crinkling his nose, Noah shakes his head. “Not at all.” He pulls back a couple of inches so he can get a good look at me. “Is that what you think?” The tightness around my chest relaxes. “No, but I wasn’t sure, and—” Capturing my lips again, Noah cuts me off. He kisses me once, twice, and a third time before releasing my mouth. “I told Kalyn about us.” My eyes bounce between his. “What exactly did you tell her?” “Well,” he says, wrapping a corded arm around my waist, “that’s the part I wanted to talk to you about.” “You have my attention.” “That’s good.” Noah runs his fingers along the side of my face, brushing my hair back. “Your attention is a start, but I want everything else.” The look on his face reveals far more than his words. He needs me just as much as I need him, but it’s more than that. It’s affection and vulnerability and that spark of something I saw when I first walked up. “What do you want?” I want to hear him say it. I want the words. “You, Lennon.” A swarm of butterflies takes flight in my stomach. “You already have me.” Noah shakes his head. “It’s not enough. I want what we represent. I want it all.” He takes a deep breath. “When I told Kalyn about us, it felt good. Better than I ever thought it would. And do you know why it felt good?” I shake my head. “Because this feels right. I want this, Lennon.” Noah hauls my body in close. “I want every single part of you. I’m ready for it. I didn’t think I was ready for someone like you, but I am.” My heart stops. “Someone like me?” “Yes. Someone I can spend my days with. Someone who will love Nova just as much as I do. I want you with us for dinner not just occasionally, but all the time. I don’t want to hide you. You’re not a secret. If there’s a soccer game, I want you there—not as my neighbor, as my girlfriend.” “You want a relationship.” Noah meets my gaze. “I do. I’m ready. Whatever this is growing between us, I want it to keep growing. I want to watch it turn into something big and beautiful, and I don’t want to hide it.” Needing to be closer to him, I roll on top of Noah. With my hair as a curtain, I look down at him. “I want that too,” I whisper, moved by his words. “You do?” Noah asks, his eyes wide. When I nod, his body relaxes beneath me. “You’ve always been so open, and I love that about you, but you’ve never asked me to define us.” “This has all happened so fast,” I say. His hands tighten around my hips, silently urging me to give him more. “When I moved here, I wasn’t looking for love. If anything, I was running from it…fast. You came out of nowhere and blindsided me.” Noah laughs. “I think it was you who blindsided me.” A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Best damn day of my life.” “I want us to tell Nova.”

Now it’s my turn to say, “You do?” Noah runs a hand up my spine. He cups the back of my head and guides my mouth to his. “I want to tell the whole world.” My emotions are all over the place, and right now I just need Noah. I need to feel him move inside of me. Straddling his hips, I rub myself against his hard cock, sliding back and forth. “Let’s talk more later. Right now, I need you.” “What do you need, baby?” I grind my hips, applying more pressure and friction. “This. And I want you bare. I want to feel every glorious inch of you.” “Fuck yes, I want that, too. I’m clean. So you don’t have to worry about that.” “Me too. And I wasn’t worried. I know you wouldn’t do anything to put me at risk.” I don’t know how I know, but I do. I feel it deep in my soul. This man would walk through fire before he’d hurt me, or anyone else for that matter. Lifting my hips, Noah slides into me. His eyes widen at the connection, and I begin to move, showing Noah with my body what I failed to say. Lacing our fingers together, Noah pulls me forward. He captures my mouth with his. “Nothing has ever felt as good as this, as good as you.” With his words lingering in the air, Noah takes control of my body. Every stroke of his tongue, every touch of his hands—he makes love to me like no man ever has. Our hips rock over and over again in a slow, sensual pace, our bodies forging a silent promise of a future. I came to Heaven to escape, but what happened is even better. I’ve been found. It’s so ironic and insane, and I know it’s crazy how fast we’re falling, but once you jump, there’s really no turning back. A burn builds low in my belly, my impending orgasm resting on the brink. “Noah.” “I know, baby.” His thrusts get harder, deeper, and less controlled as we both slip into that wonderful oblivion we’re chasing. Noah’s gaze is steadfast, his eyes refusing to leave mine as he brings both of us to climax. We lose ourselves at the same time, with moans of pleasure and promises of more. And to think, this is only the beginning. Sated and completely out of breath, I collapse on Noah’s chest. It takes several minutes to regain my strength, but when I finally do, I kiss his warm skin and meet his gaze. “Thank you.” Noah palms my ass. “You don’t ever have to thank me for that.” “I wasn’t.” I brush my thumb along his lower lip, loving how plump it is from my mouth. “Thank you for being on the road that day,” I say. “Thank you for being so kind and compassionate and open to my crazy ways. But mostly, thank you for showing me what it’s like to be with a real man.” Noah’s eyes smolder, his hard cock—still inside of me—quickly regaining strength. And just when I expect him to say something, his mouth claims mine. The next second he has me flipped over, his strong, warm body pressing me into the mattress. Nirvana. This right here is my nirvana.



The sound of my phone alarm startles me awake. Reaching for the nightstand, I quickly shut it off. Yawning, I stretch my arms and look over at the alarm clock. 6:00 a.m. Way too early for me to get up, but I want to make Noah and Nova breakfast. Arching my back, I roll over and come face to face with the most spectacular view. Noah is next to me, flat on his stomach, one arm tucked under his head, the other draped around a pillow. The sheet is bunched around his hips, and I already know that if I raise the blanket, I will find him naked as the day he was born. His skin looks so smooth and soft in the morning light that I can’t resist reaching out and touching him. I run a finger along his bicep, tracing the outline of one of his tattoos. He stirs at my touch, but doesn’t wake up, and I kiss the spot my finger touched before slipping out of bed. I don’t make it far because a big, strong arm wraps around my waist, pulling me backward into an equally hard chest. “Where do you think you’re going?” Noah’s voice is raspy from sleep, and it wakes up all of my lady parts. “I was going to make you and Nova breakfast,” I say, wriggling my ass against his erection, which is pressed against me and growing by the second. “There’s something poking me.” Noah’s grip around my waist tightens. “What the hell do you expect? My girl is naked and rubbing all up on me and oh look—” Noah’s hand slides up. “There’s a boob.” My eyes nearly roll back in my head when he massages me. “Are they always this soft in the morning?” “I wouldn’t know—” My words break off into a moan when Noah flicks my nipple. “If you keep doing that, you won’t get breakfast.” “Are you on the menu?” Next thing I know, Noah has my back pinned against the bed and is shouldering his way between my thighs. “Now this is what I call breakfast.” With the first pass of his tongue up my slit, I arch off the bed. Driving my fingers into his hair, I grip it tight, ensuring that his face stays right where I need it. “Noah.” “Hold on, baby. This’ll only take a minute.” Six minutes later, I slide out of bed with a stupid-ass grin on my face. Noah is relaxed against the pillows, arms tucked behind his head with a smug smile. “Stop looking at me like that.” I toss a pillow at him. He laughs, catching it mid-air. “What?” He tosses the pillow to the side and holds his hands out. “A guy can’t smile after eating his girlfriend’s pussy? Breakfast of champions, if you ask me.”

I roll my eyes, grab my pajamas off the floor, and tug them on. “What do you think Nova would like for breakfast?” “She’ll be good with a bowl of cereal.” “No,” I scoff. “The first breakfast I make her can’t be a bowl of cereal. How about pancakes?” Noah’s shit-eating grin fades into a gentle smile. “She loves pancakes.” “Pancakes it is.” I tiptoe out of Noah’s room and move quietly down the hall. I’ve maneuvered around his kitchen enough to know right where the pots and pans are. I grab a skillet and heat it up on the stove while I whip up enough pancake batter for the three of us. “You look good in my kitchen.” Noah’s arms wrap around my stomach. He places his chin on my shoulder as he watches me. “I could get used to this.” My stay in Heaven was supposed to be temporary. It wasn’t my intention to grow roots, but I have, and standing here, it’s blatantly clear that if I want this to work, I’m going to have to tell Noah the truth. I’m going to have to tell him about my parents and the mess that brought me here. I can only hope he’ll understand once I explain it, and I vow to tell him everything sometime in the near future. I pour the mixture into the skillet and turn in his arms. “Me too.” Placing a chaste kiss on his lips, I shoo him away. “Now go before I burn the pancakes.” “Maybe I want to watch you cook. Is that a problem?” he asks. “It is when you’re touching me.” His voice drops deceptively low. “You like me touching you.” Oh God, I do. So much that I’m considering scrapping breakfast all together if he’ll keep sprinkling kisses along my neck the way he’s doing. “I can’t concentrate when you’re doing that.” He smiles against my skin and adds his tongue, sucking lightly. “That?” “Yes, that. Ohhh—” Noah brings his lips to my earlobe and bites gently while his hand settles on my ass. “And that too. That’s good.” The smell of pancakes burning jerks me out of my Noah-induced haze, and I push him away. Okay, I try to push him away. Turns out Noah isn’t keen on letting me go. “Noah Cunningham,” I say in my best commanding voice. “You take one giant step back.” “Not a chance in hell.” He makes another move for my neck, and I whimper. “I’m trying to impress your daughter.” That must do it. With a sigh, Noah releases my ass and pulls back. He cups my face in his hands and brings my mouth to his. “Thank you.” “For what? For burning pancakes? Because that’s what’s about to happen.” Reaching around me, Noah turns the heat down. “No. Thank you for wanting to impress my daughter even though you don’t have to. Nova already thinks you’re a princess; that alone gives you an in.” “Do I smell pancakes?” Noah steps back and we both look over at Nova, who’s standing in the doorway wearing her Little Mermaid pajamas. Yawning, she rubs her eyes and ambles toward us. Brown curls stick up in every direction, and one section of hair is plastered to the side of her face. She’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. She looks at me and offers a sleepy smile. “Did you have another sleepover?” My eyes snap to Noah, and he quickly swoops in. Picking Nova up, he sits down at the kitchen table and settles her on his lap. But before he can say a word, Nova looks up at him and says, “It’s okay if you did.” Noah’s lips part. “It is?” “She’s your friend.” Nova makes it sound so simple.

“Well…” Noah’s eyes dart to mine, and I give him an encouraging smile. He adjusts Nova on his lap and clears his throat. “What if Lennon were more than just my friend?” I hold my breath, waiting for Nova to say something, but she just stares at Noah with her nose scrunched. Finally, after several long seconds, she says, “What do you mean?” Noah takes a deep breath, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he comes up with an explanation a five-year-old will understand. “What if she were my girlfriend?” The breath rushes from my lungs when I see Nova’s face light up. “Like a princess?” “Kinda,” Noah says, laughing. Nova frowns. She fiddles with the bottom of her night shirt and then looks up at her dad. “Will I still be your princess?” “You will always be my number-one princess,” Noah says, kissing her nose. I move across the room and sit down next to them. Nova looks at me. “We can both be Daddy’s princess,” she says. In all of my years, I’ve never felt so loved and so easily accepted. Pressure builds behind my eyes and a smile stretches wide across my lips. “I would love that.” “Can I have pancakes now?” Nova asks, and just like that, the moment that Noah and I were stressing about is over. “Well, I think I burned them.” “That’s okay.” Nova hops off her dad’s lap and grabs my hand, tugging me toward the stove. “We can make more.” And that’s what we do. Nova and I spend the next twenty minutes making new pancakes, and when we’re all done, she helps me clean up our mess while Noah gets ready for work. As we’re putting the dishes away, Noah comes into the kitchen. “Nova, I need you to go change your clothes and pack a little bag of things to keep you busy. You’re coming to work with me today,” he says, grabbing his boots from behind the door. “What?” she whines, slumping down in the chair. “Why? I hate going to work with you. It’s boring. I thought I was going to Grandma’s.” Noah looks up at her. “Please don’t argue with me, sweetheart. Grandma isn’t feeling well. We’ve got to get going. Go get dressed, and pack a bag.” Nova slinks from the chair and down the hall with a full-on pout. I wipe my hands off on the kitchen rag and drape it over the sink. “Is your Mom okay?” “Yeah.” Noah blows out a heavy breath, looking up at me after tying his boots. “She woke up with a bad toothache, and the dentist could get her in first thing this morning. I’ll bring Nova to work with me, and she’ll come by and get her when she’s done.” “What about your dad?” Noah shakes his head. “He’s already got plans. It’s really no biggie. She’s come to work with me before. She’ll be fine.” “I’ll keep her,” I blurt. Eyes wide, Noah studies me. “What? I’m fully capable of watching a five-year-old girl for the day.” Sure, there are a few orders of business I’ve got to take care of, and a contract on a building I have to sign, but I can do those things after Noah picks her up. Noah stands and stalks toward me in all of his muscular glory, and I can’t help but notice how his work shirt accentuates all of his tattoos as his biceps flex against the fabric. He gives arm porn a whole new meaning. I swallow as he wraps those delicious arms around me. “I wasn’t insinuating that you weren’t capable; you just caught me off guard, that’s all. But if you really want to take Nova, I’m sure she’d love that.”

“Good.” I pat his chest and make him take a healthy step backward before I climb his body like a tree. “It’s settled. She’ll come with me. I’ll just plan on keeping her until you get off. Tell your mom to enjoy an afternoon to herself.” “I’m ready to go,” Nova moans, dragging her bag into the kitchen. Noah picks her bag up from the floor. “Change of plans, kiddo. How would you like to spend the day with Lennon?” Nova’s eyes sparkle when she turns to me. “Really? I get to go with Lennon?” “Really,” Noah says, earning a giant hug from his daughter. “I want you to be good for her today, okay?” “I will. Thank you, Daddy.” “Don’t thank me,” he says, smiling at me over Nova’s shoulder. “Thank Lennon. She’s the one who offered.” “Thank you, Lennon,” she says, unwrapping herself from her father. She runs across the kitchen and throws herself against my legs. Squatting down, I engulf her in a tight hug. She buries her face in the side of my neck and says, “I promise I’ll be good.” Something blossoms inside of me, a warmth starting in my chest and radiating out, filling me with so much love. I’ve loved a lot of people in my life—my parents, Helga, Mathis, at one time Lizzie, and quite possibly Noah. But nothing, none of those feelings are the same as what I have for Nova. It’s a simpler kind of love. It comes easy, without any rules or guidelines. It just is, and I tighten my hold on her, trying to preserve the moment. Eventually she pulls back and looks at me, and I’m nearly knocked on my ass because everything I’m feeling I see reflected back at me in her eyes. “We’re going to have so much fun today,” she whispers, as though Noah isn’t privy to that little piece of information. “Then what are we waiting for?” I whisper back. I grab Nova’s bag, she takes my hand, and out the door we go. “I don’t even get a kiss goodbye?” Noah calls. I glance over my shoulder—something Nova doesn’t even bother with—and blow him a kiss as we walk out the door.



“Hold your arms out to the side.” Nova does as I instruct, and I wrap the tape measure around her bust, followed by her waist, and then her hips. Probably a little overboard considering she’s only five and flat as a board, but I want the princess dress to fit perfectly. I measure her height and decide to go for the length of her arms just in case I add sleeves. “What are all of those numbers for?” she asks. “I need all of those numbers to make your princess dress.” Nova bounces around. “I can’t wait. Is it going to be poofy?” “Do you want it poofy?” I ask. “Yes, but not too poofy.” “Got it.” I nod. “Just enough poof.” “And I want it to fan out when I twirl.” “That I can do.” “And will it have sparkles?” I stop measuring and look up, giving Nova a really serious look. “It wouldn’t be a princess dress if it didn’t sparkle. Do you know what color you want it?” I ask, finishing my measurements. “Can I have any color I want?” I had planned to have some material shipped here, but I’m not sure I want to wait that long. I’m anxious to get started on Nova’s dress, so I’ll probably just take her to the fabric shop I saw in town and let her pick out what she wants. “Any color.” She taps her chin. “Hmmm… Maybe purple.” She quickly shakes her head. “No, pink.” Biting on her bottom lip, Nova thinks some more. “How about yellow, like Belle?” “Yellow is a great color,” I say, rolling the tape measure back up. I tuck the measurements under the sewing machine so I won’t lose them. “How about we go shopping and you can pick a color, and then we can go grab lunch.” “Can we take some to Daddy?” “That’s a great Idea.” I gather my purse, and Nova follows me out of the house. I make sure to lock the front door and grab the booster seat off the front porch. Thank God Noah thought to leave it for me. I wouldn’t have even thought about it. Once Nova’s all buckled in—and trust me, she’s buckled in; I checked four times—we make our way into town. Turns out Sew Lovely, the little shop I’d found, is so much more than just a little shop. It’s

fantastic—a sewing girl’s dream—with fabrics of all different textures and colors and patterns. I was concerned I wouldn’t find the quality silk I needed to make this dress, but Deb, the owner, took me to her secret stash in the back. Lucky for me, Deb is a grandmother and had ordered silk to make her granddaughters dresses, and she had some fabric left over. Nova’s eyes instantly lock on the yellow, so that’s what we go with. After matching up some thread and choosing sequins and lace, Nova and I wave goodbye to Deb and lug our haul to the car. Of course, I can’t walk away with just silk because I found a killer pattern for a quilt, so I had to buy material for that as well. Needless to say, I’ve got enough side projects to keep me busy for quite sometime. Nova and I make a quick stop at the deli and pick up sandwiches and chips, enough for the entire shop. Then we head over to surprise Noah.

“Noah, there’s someone here to see you,” Sara hollers. I slide out from under a car and look over. Nine-months-pregnant Sara is sitting in her roller chair in the doorway looking absolutely miserable. “What are you still doing here? I told you to quit coming in. You need to rest, and if that baby decides to come into this world while you’re at work, I will not be happy.” Sara rolls her eyes. She brings a hand to her swollen belly and rubs lightly. “My doctor says I’m fine to keep working, and I really don’t want to stop yet.” “I know you don’t.” Sara and her husband, Danny, are old friends of mine. We grew up together, and they mean a lot to me. A couple of months ago, they ran into some financial problems when Danny got laid off from his job. “But I told you, I’m paying you twelve weeks of maternity leave, so don’t worry about that. You won’t lose any money, I promise.” Sara’s eyes well up with tears, and I push up from the creeper, wiping my hands off on a shop rag. “Stop worrying so much,” I say as I approach her. “Thank you, Noah.” She grabs my hand, gives it a squeeze, and then pulls me down close. “Lennon’s a keeper,” she whispers. “Don’t screw it up.” She flashes me a sweet smile before rolling back into the office. Where the hell did that come from, and how does she know Lennon? I follow her into the office to find Nova and Lennon standing by the front desk. “What are you guys doing here?” Bending down, I give Nova a kiss, and because I’m so damn happy to see the two of them together, I throw all my worries and anxieties out the window. Leaning forward, I plant a soft kiss on Lennon’s lips. She blushes. My cock twitches. And Tommy lets out a whistle from the other room. “We brought you lunch.” Nova seems completely unfazed by my show of affection toward Lennon as she roots through the bags on the counter. She pulls out sandwich after sandwich until she finds the one

she’s looking for, which she hands to me. “Your favorite.” I take it from her, amazed at how much food they brought. Lennon must be able to read my mind because she says, “We brought enough for the whole shop.” “And chips too,” Nova adds. Sara pushes up from her chair, and I move to help her, but she holds a hand out. “I’m fine,” she says. “Stop treating me like I’m going to break.” “I’m not treating you like you’re going to break. I’m treating you like you’re going to pop.” “Your dad’s a little protective, you know that?” Sara says, looking at Nova, who nods her head. “What do you say you and I take these sandwiches out back for the boys?” Nova drapes a bag over her arm and Sara grabs the chips. When they’re out of the office, I turn to Lennon. “You didn’t have to do this. But thank you.” She takes a step toward me, her soft vanilla scent permeating the air. “I wanted to, and you’re welcome. In fact,” she says, dropping her voice seductively low, “if you’re really grateful, I can think of a few different ways you can repay me tonight.” Ah, fuck. Now I’ve got a hard on. “Oh yeah?” Lennon nods, running her hand down my chest. She peeks over my shoulder, most likely to make sure no one is watching, and then she palms my dick. “Babe.” I grab her wrist. “I have to go back out into that shop and spend another four hours with several fucking dudes. I’m gonna need you to either stop, or slip into my office over there.” I nod to the door in the corner. Lennon wags her eyebrows. “Oooooh… I’ve never had office sex before. You know, it’s always been a fantasy of mine to go down on a guy as he sits on the phone behind a desk—” I moan, dropping my head back. “You’re killing me.” Laughing, Lennon removes her hand and kisses me on the cheek. “Sorry. No more workplace groping —” “Unless you can deliver.” “If your daughter weren’t here, I would.” “Speaking of Nova, how’s she been today?” I ask, unwrapping my sandwich. I take a hearty bite as Lennon tells me their trip to the fabric shop, and by the time she’s finished, so am I. “Did you even chew your food or just swallow it whole?” she jokes. I pat my stomach. “I’m a growing boy. Speaking of food, what do you want to have for dinner tonight? I think Mikey is going to join us. He has the night off.” “Whatever you want. I’m up for anything. Oh! Speaking of Mikey, I’m totally playing matchmaker.” ”What do you mean you’re playing matchmaker?” “I swear he and Charlotte had a moment at the soccer game, so we’re all going out for drinks this weekend.” In the back of my mind, I knew a moment like this would come: the stark reality of what it’s like to date as a single parent, the reminder that there are reasons I might not be a good fit for Lennon. She’s young, beautiful, and vibrant, with the whole world in front of her and nothing holding her back. I don’t see Nova as holding me back by any means—that girl means the world to me, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything—but I’m a single father, and my time isn’t really my time. “I can’t.” Lennon’s face falls. “What do you mean, you can’t?” “I’ve got Nova.” “We can get a sitter. Maybe your mom can…” I shake my head, and Lennon’s words trail off. “My parents watch her all week long. I refuse to ask them to help out on the weekends unless it’s an

emergency.” Understanding washes across her face. “Right. I understand.” “But you should go. Have fun with your friends and stop by the house afterward.” “No.” Lennon grabs my hand. “I’d rather stay home with you and Nova anyway. I’ll just tell Charlotte I can’t go, and if she decides to go out with Mikey regardless, it’s her choice.” “Lennon—” “I said it’s fine. Now stop. It’s not a big deal.” “What’s not a big deal?” Nova asks, running into the room. Lips pursed, I give Lennon a stern look. “This conversation isn’t over,” I whisper before turning to Nova. “Geez, you’re nosy.” She gives me a wide grin and grabs Lennon’s hand. “What do you two girls have planned for the rest of the afternoon?” “A tea party!” Lennon looks down at Nova. “I was thinking more along the lines of a nap.” Wrinkling her nose, Nova shakes her head. “I don’t take naps.” “Bummer.” Lennon looks up at me. “I guess we’re having a tea party.” Nova tugs on Lennon hand, but I manage to squeeze in a kiss for both of them before they head out. My two girls. I stand at the door, watching as Lennon loads my daughter into the car. Then I watch them pull away, and I keep watching until Lennon’s car disappears. When I turn around, Sara is standing against the desk, a sly grin pulling at her lips. “You’re in love,” she says in a sing-song voice. “No, I’m not,” I lie, walking past her. Of course I’m in love with her. “You know,” she hollers, catching me before I slip out the door, “the sooner you admit it to yourself, the easier it’ll be.” Oh I’ve already admitted it to myself. Now I have to tell Lennon.



Nova is in the middle of pouring me a glass of imaginary tea when my phone rings. I glance down and see my mother’s name flash across the screen. What in the world could she possibly want? I haven’t heard a word from her since I left New York, and normally she has her assistant call me if she needs something. So if she’s calling, it can really only mean one of two things: either she dialed the wrong number or something is wrong. Wetting my lips, I look at Nova and back at the phone. Fuck it. She hasn’t bothered to call until now, so why should I interrupt my tea party to answer? I shouldn’t. There. That’s settled. Setting my phone on the table, I pick up the cup of tea—pinky poised in the air—and take a dramatic sip. “Oh, no!” Nova gasps, setting her glass down. “You drank from the wrong glass. That’s poison.” Wrapping my hands around my throat, I pretend to choke. “Help me.” “I can’t help you,” Nova exclaims. “The only thing that can save you is the prince.” Toppling out of the chair, I land softly on the floor. Nova rushes around the table with her stuffed frog and presses his face to my lips. “There,” she sighs dramatically. “You’re saved.” Propping myself up on an elbow, I wipe a hand across my forehead. “Whew! That was a close one.” She nods and takes her seat again at the table. “Now for the real tea,” she says, pouring me a new glass. When I reach for it, my phone lights up again with my mother’s name. I know she didn’t dial the wrong number twice. “Nova, I’m going to go into the kitchen and answer this call. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” “Okay. Can you take these grapes with you, please?” she asks. “We’re done with them.” I take the bowl, and Nova shoves a doll in my seat and goes about her tea party. Once I’m in the kitchen and out of earshot, I answer. “Hello?” “Lennon.” My mother’s curt tone instantly pisses me off. Rolling my eyes, I stuff a grape in my mouth. “Mother,” I say, equally as curt. “How is Texas?” she asks. “Better than New York.” She scoffs, but lucky for her, she doesn’t try to argue with me. It’s an argument she won’t win. “Have you talked to Mathis?”

I sputter, inhaling chunks of grape before coughing them back out. “No. God, no. Why would I talk to Mathis?” “He feels horrible about what happened.” “He should.” Why the fuck does she want to talk about Mathis? I pace the kitchen. The thought of talking to Mathis makes me twitchy, and I have to do something to keep myself occupied. “He apologized to your father and me. Then he took us out to that fancy restaurant you two used to eat at. What was it called?” Her voice is too sugary sweet, her words luring me into answering, but I bite my tongue. “What do you want, Mom? Is this why you called? You want to talk about Mathis?” She sighs, and the disappointment is obvious. She’s never tried to hide it. She’s been on me for a while now to give Mathis another chance. “You need to get over it, Lennon. I think you’ve made him pay enough for his indiscretions, don’t you?” “Do you even hear yourself right now? After everything he’s put me through, you still want me to marry him? You’re insane.” She tries to interrupt, but I’m having no part of it. It’s time she listens. “Mathis and I have been over for a year. A year, Mother. And we’re not getting back together. Ever. It will never happen, so get that through your head. And when I do decide to get married, you can bet your ass it’ll be to a man who deserves my love, one who would rather die than hurt me, one who wouldn’t think about treating me with anything less than the respect I deserve.” “You two were together for five years, Lennon. And you’re going to throw all of that away because of one mistake?” “Mistake? Mistake! Him fucking my best friend was a mistake?” I yell, quickly remembering Nova in the other room. I glance around the corner, and she’s still playing, seemingly unaware of my outburst. “He cheated on me!” I whisper-yell, frustrated that I have to defend myself. “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Don’t even get me started on the hell he put me through after that.” She sighs. “Does this have to do with that neighbor guy of yours? What’s his name?” My blood runs cold as she clicks her tongue. “Nick, is it?” “How do you know about him?” “No, not Nick. Noah.” I can hear her snap through the phone. “Handsome thing he is, cute daughter, too. Although her story is a bit tragic, don’t you think?” The hair on the back of my neck stands up at the mention of Nova. “Answer me. How do you know about him?” “You’re my only child, Lennon. Did you really think I’d let you run off to a foreign town and not keep tabs on you?” “I didn’t run off,” I argue. “That’s neither here nor there. I wonder what Noah would think of his precious Lennon if he knew the truth behind what brought her to Texas.” Vibrations pulse through my body. My heart slams inside my chest, my teeth threatening to chatter because of all the adrenaline pumping through my veins. “What makes you think I haven’t told him?” “Oh, come on, Leni. You don’t think your own mother knows you?” Not really. But damn it if she isn’t right about this. “You wouldn’t do that to me.” “I would.”

I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. None of it’s true. You know that; he’ll know that.” “It was all over the news. All I would have to do is show him a few articles, maybe a clip from TV, and he’d wash his hands of you faster than you could blink. You’re lucky he hasn’t already figured it out.” “No.” Pacing across the kitchen floor, I stop in front of the window and stare at Noah’s house across the yard. “He would believe me. All I have to do is explain, and he would believe me.” “Really? You think he’d be that forgiving, after everything he’s been through? After everything his daughter has been through?” “None of it’s true!” I yell, infuriated. “You know damn well those drugs weren’t mine!” “A picture is worth a thousand words.” “Pictures lie. God, Mother.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I can feel a few tears slip. “Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just let me be happy?” “You can be happy,” she says, her voice losing some of its edge. “With Mathis. You two are cut from the same cloth. Sure, he’s made mistakes. What man hasn’t? But he’s atoned for them.” Running a hand over my face, I collapse onto a kitchen chair. “We’re talking in circles, and I really can’t do this with you right now. I have company.” “Mathis is coming to get you.” Her words stop me cold. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why she keeps pushing him on me. Why does it matter so much to her? “Excuse me?” “He’s coming to Texas, and you will talk to him.” “No, I won’t.” “You will,” she repeats, a hard edge to her proper voice. “If you just listen to what he has to say, I know you’ll see things more clearly. You two can stay there for a couple of weeks, continue to let things die down, and use the time to reconnect. It’ll be good for both of you. And then you can come home and put everything behind you.” “You’re not listening to me—” “No! You’re not listening to me. Do you think it’s easy being married to your father? Living up to everything he represents? No. But it’s not about me. It’s about him. He’s given me the life I’ve always wanted—the sort of life Mathis can give you, if you’ll just let him.” “Did it occur to you that maybe I don’t want that life?” “Why on Earth wouldn’t you?” My heart drops. She’s never been a big part of my life, popping in and out when it’s convenient for her, but it’s clear now just how little she knows about me. “I shouldn’t have to explain it to you,” I say, and then I hang up. Seconds pass, maybe minutes or hours. Who the hell knows? But our conversation plays on repeat in my head, and I know I need to talk to Noah. It’s time he learns the truth, and I’d rather it be from me than someone else. My thoughts are interrupted by knocking on the front door, and I take a deep breath before I go to answer. Scary as the prospect may be, I resign myself to telling him as soon as the opportunity presents itself. The door swings open, and Lennon’s usually vibrant face is flat, her eyes void of the sparkle I’ve come to expect and love.

Love. There’s that word again. It’s hard to believe I fell in love with her after such a short time. But I do, I love her. I Love everything about her. I love the way she smiles at me, all sexy and sated, after a round of crazy-hot sex. I even love the way she looks moving around my house like she owns the damn place. And let’s not forget how much I love the way she interacts with my daughter. Lennon is everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman—sexy, sweet, kind, loyal, funny, smart. What’s not to love, besides the current look on her face? “Everything okay?” Lennon shivers slightly as a breeze whips through the air. Her eyes are full, round, and filling with tears, but it isn’t sadness I see, it’s pain. That’s heartache in its purest form shining back at me. “Lennon.” I pull her into my arms, and she curls herself around me, holding on as though she’ll fall if she lets go. And that’s okay with me because I like her here. Scratch that, I love her here, in my arms where I can keep her safe and whisper away her demons. “Tell me what’s wrong. Did Nova do something to upset you?” Shaking her head, Lennon pulls back and wipes a hand across her nose. “No. She’s been perfect. She’s in the other room having a tea party. It’s my mother.” I nudge Lennon into the entryway of her house and shut the door. “What happened?” “My mother happened.” Shit. “Keep talking.” “She called. I haven’t heard from her in a freaking month, Noah, and she called to tell me I need to give Mathis another chance.” Just the mention of his name makes me angry. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Over my dead body will Lennon take him back. She’s mine. “After everything he did?” Lennon nods, sniffling. “Can you believe that? Mathis and I broke up a year ago, and she still wants us together. She’s my mother, Noah…” Tears fill Lennon’s eyes again, spilling down her flushed cheeks, and I thread my fingers through her hair, holding her to me. “She should want me to be happy, but she…she threatened me, and—” The hand I’ve been running along Lennon’s back stops. “What do you mean, she threatened you? With what?” When Lennon untangles herself from my arms, her red, puffy eyes dart around the room, refusing to look at me. “It’s nothing.” “It’s not nothing if it’s got you this worked up.” Pressing her fingers to her eyes, she wipes away the wetness. She finally looks up at me, and for a moment I think she’s about to speak. But then… “Daddy!” Nova zooms toward me, stopping short when she sees Lennon. “What’s wrong?” she asks. Lennon bends down until she’s eye to eye with my little girl. “Nothing,” she lies. “I’m just having a sad moment, but you know what?” Nova shakes her head, still looking unsure about Lennon’s tears. Placing her hands on Nova’s arms, Lennon gives her a tremulous smile. “I had so much fun with you today. Can we do this again soon?” Still looking uncertain, Nova nods. “I had fun today, too.” She takes a hesitant step forward and then another until she’s in Lennon’s arms. She wraps her arms around Lennon’s neck and squeezes with all her might. “Please don’t cry.” Nova’s words have the opposite effect, and when Lennon squeezes her eyes shut, another wave of tears rushes down her face.

“I love you,” Nova whispers, glancing up at me. Those three words from the heart of my daughter to the woman I’ve fallen for shatter me in the best possible way. “I love you, too,” Lennon replies, running a hand down Nova’s back. “So much.” Hearing this nearly causes me to lose my shit. Lennon had already knocked down the walls around my heart, but if there was even a chunk of concrete left, she just obliterated it. After several long seconds, Lennon pulls back and once again wipes the wetness from her face. “You two should go home and get dinner started. Mikey will be over soon.” “Nova, go gather your things,” I say, watching Lennon closely. She looks about two seconds from breaking, and my skin prickles the same way it used to with Kim, leaving me to wonder if Lennon is hiding something from me. I quickly shake the thought away, because Lennon is nothing like Kim. “What else did your mom say?” I ask softly. Shaking her head, Lennon takes a step back. Her sad eyes find mine. “My mom was just being my mom.” Lennon glances at Nova as she runs back toward us, bag in hand. “I really don’t want to talk about it right now, if that’s okay with you?” Placing my hand under her chin, I turn her face toward me. “But we will talk about it?” Lennon nods. “Good.” I kiss her gently, hating the way her puffy lips feel against mine. I don’t like it when either of my girls cries. “You’re coming over for dinner, right?” “Is it okay if I skip tonight? I just really want to be alone.” “I’m not sure I want you to be alone.” “My mother isn’t like yours, Noah,” she says, her eyes hardening. “She isn’t loving or kind. Never has been, and all of a sudden it’s clear she never will be. Whatever hope I had of that is gone, and I just need to be—” Her voice grows thick with emotion, and she takes a second to collect herself. “I just need to be alone. I need to process this, figure out how to move forward.” “You’re going to process it with me.” My words cause a spark in her eye. Did she really think I was going to let her deal with this by herself? She’s mine now. We deal with this shit together. “We’re going to process this,” I tell her again. “You’re not alone anymore, Lennon. We’ll deal with your mother together.” I cradle her face with my hand, and she rests her cheek against my palm. “Thank you.” “You don’t have to thank me; this is what relationships are about. Now, go relax. Take a bath, sew, read a book, invite Charlotte over for a glass of wine and watch a chick flick—whatever it is you need to do to clear your head. I’ll check on you later, and we’ll talk it out.” With one last kiss and a promise to call Lennon after dinner, Nova and I slip out the door. We’re halfway across the yard when Nova tugs on my hand. “Daddy, is Lennon okay?” “Yeah, sweetie, she’s going to be fine. We’ll make sure of it.”



After Noah leaves I cry. A lot. And then I scream and yell and cry some more, because this isn’t fair. Life isn’t fucking fair. Why was I born to such unloving parents? Why did I allow myself to get involved with someone like Mathis when there are men like Noah in the world? Clenching my fists, I yell at the top of my lungs. It feels good, so good to get all of that tension out, so I do it again. Pushing my fingers into my hair, I pace around the house, trying to make sense of everything. But it’s nearly impossible. All of it—my mother, Mathis, Noah, that night—is one tangled mess in my head, and I can’t seem to straighten it all out. Maybe I need to get the hell out of here. Frustrated and angry, I grab a bottle of wine, my purse, and my keys, and charge out my front door. Tossing my stuff in my car, I shoot Charlotte a quick text to let her know I’m on my way, and I make the short drive into town. Thank God for Charlotte, because not even twenty minutes later I find myself perched in a shop chair with a glass of wine in one hand and a package of Starbursts in the other—sans pink ones, of course. “Your mom’s a real bitch.” That’s putting it mildly. “Tell me about it.” “You don’t really think she’d tell Noah, do you? I mean, not that you have anything to worry about, because it isn’t true, but…” “I don’t know.” I take a sip of my wine, contemplating, and as much as I hate to admit it, I do think she would say something. “I wouldn’t put it past her.” “You know you have to tell him first.” I nod, lifting my head to focus on Charlotte. “I know. I was always going to tell him; I’ve just been waiting for the right time.” “Is there ever a right time to tell someone about the past?” “Probably not. But I wanted him to get to know me for me and not for who my parents are or who the tabloids say I am.” Charlotte nods as I talk. “And he has. Listen—” Taking my glass, Charlotte refills it and hands it back. “Noah is a great guy, the best of the best. He may be upset that you kept this from him, but he’ll be levelheaded about it.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “You think?”

“Absolutely. He might be upset at first, but you can explain everything, and then you two can put it behind you. That night doesn’t define you, Lennon.” Now if only Noah will see it the same way. “I know. You’re right.” Charlotte blows on her fingernails and buffs them on her shirt. “I’m always right.” I tip my glass toward hers, and she clinks it softly. “I’m sorry,” I say. She pulls her glass back. “For what?” “I won’t be making it for drinks this weekend.” “Pssh.” She waves me off. “Don’t think twice about it.” I draw in a nice, big breath, and when I blow it out, I try to let go of all of my insecurities. Tomorrow night after Nova goes to bed, I’ll tell Noah everything: who my parents are and the real reason I came to Heaven, and then we’ll have crazy make-up sex and all will be good. I smile to myself as the bell rings on the front door of the shop, signaling someone’s entry. I glance at my watch and shoot Charlotte a look. “You expecting someone?” She shakes her head. “Be right there,” she hollers, handing me her wine glass. Charlotte peeks her head around the corner and whips back around, eyes wide. “Oh shit. Okay.” I set both glasses down and reach for my purse. “Stay calm. I’ve got mace,” I whisper. “No,” she whispers, laughing. “The guy who just walked in is hot.” “Oooh,” I croon. No one is as hot as Noah, but I can play along for the sake of our friendship. “How hot is hot?” “Like three-piece suit, just-walked-off-the-set-of-an-Armani-ad hot. Tall. Blond. Lean.” Charlotte fans herself and whispers, “Wish me luck.” Then she disappears around the corner. I can hear them talking, but with the music coming through the speakers, I can’t quite make out what they’re saying. Three seconds later, she walks back around the corner. “Did you get his number?” I ask, looking at my phone. “Or maybe you need me to leave so—” “He’s here for you.” The bleak tone of her voice brings me to full attention. Charlotte’s lips are pressed into a grim line, the color gone from her face. There are really only two men who could elicit that sort of reaction from someone: my dad or Mathis. And since my dad isn’t blond, that leaves only one option. With a calm I didn’t know I possessed, I tuck my phone in my pocket and stand. Charlotte wraps a hand around my arm. “Want me to come with you?” “No.” I shake my head and round the corner. If I was any other woman, the sight of Mathis—tall, freshly shaven, and dressed to the nines—leaning against the front counter would surely drop me to my knees. He’s always been breathtaking. Well-dressed, perfectly tousled blond hair, a sleek, square jaw without an ounce of stubble, and a devastating smile that apparently—behind my back, of course—made women everywhere drop their panties. Lucky for me, I see past what’s on the outside, and his inside is ugly. “What the hell are you doing here, Mathis?” “I see you’re still mad at me,” he says, giving me a cocky smile. There’s nothing I want more than to reach out and smack that look right off of his face, but that would mean I’d have to touch him, and I will not touch Mathis Perry. “Gee, I wonder why.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I put on my invisible armor. Mathis is good at charming his way out sticky situations. “Did you really come here to rehash all of the reasons I hate you?” My words hit their mark, and Mathis’s smile falters. “Hate is such a strong word to come from such a

beautiful mouth.” His eyes roam over my body, but the look doesn’t affect me the way it used to—the way he wants it to. “You changed your hair. It looks nice.” “Enough, Mathis,” I growl. “What the hell are you doing here?” “Isn’t it obvious?” He holds his arms out. “I came for you. I want you.” “You lost me when you screwed my best friend and then again when you told the cops—” “And you never let me explain…or apologize,” he interrupts. Is he serious right now? “There’s nothing to explain, Mathis, and I don’t want your empty apologies. You stuck your dick inside another woman when you were in a committed relationship. You lied and got me arrested. Created rumors I still can’t get rid of.” Not much gets to Mathis, but surprisingly, he flinches at my words. “Lizzie meant nothing to me,” he says. “She was a mistake.” “Then what about the rest of the women that you cheated on me with? What were they?” Fuck. Why am I even doing this with him? “It doesn’t matter.” I wave my hand dismissively. “Even if I could move past your sexual indiscretions—which I can’t and won’t—do you really think I could get past everything else you’ve done? We’re over, Mathis. You need to understand that.” “We’re not over,” he says, eerily calm. “We’ll never be over, Leni. You. Are. Mine. We belong together. We deserve this.” I open my mouth to talk, but Mathis keeps talking. “Your parents thought it was best you get away, and it probably was, so I let you come here and have some time to yourself. But if you think for one second that playing house and shacking up with some lowlife single dad would—” My hand whips through the air so quickly that even I don’t see the impact coming. Mathis’s head reels back when my palm connects with his cheek, cutting off his hateful words. “Don’t you ever speak about Noah like that again,” I seethe, closing the distance between us. I shove at his chest, anger and adrenaline pumping through my veins, sending him back another step. “He’s twice the man you’ll ever be.” “He’s no one,” he spits, gritting his teeth as he rubs his jaw. “He’s a fucking mechanic.” Blood pumps through my body with so much force that my head throbs. My skin is on fire. “I don’t care what he is or what he does, because he’s mine!” I yell. “He’s kind and gentle. He compliments me and treats me with respect, and I love him more than I ever loved you.” No truer words have ever come from my mouth. I love Noah. I love him. My only regret is that the first time I said so, it wasn’t to him. “You barely know him,” Mathis throws back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charlotte peek around the corner, phone pressed to her ear, and I can only imagine what’s going through her head. This isn’t me. I don’t fight and sling hateful words at people. This is what Mathis brings out in me: the worst. And I’m done letting him influence me. My love for Noah seeps through my heart, filters through every cell in my body, and plants itself in my soul. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, my anger slowly dissipating. “You’ve been brainwashed.” Mathis shakes his head in disgust. “You can’t fall in love with someone that fast.” Just thinking about Noah and the times we’ve spent together makes me smile. The food fight. Making out on the bleachers. Cooking dinner. Having a tea party with Nova. Making love to him—oh, yes, all the

times we’ve made love. “I did. I fell madly in love with him and his daughter. This is my home now; they are part of my life. You are not.” Mathis’s chest heaves harder with each word I say. His fists clench tight at his side, fire blazing from his eyes. He’s never hit me before, and I’ve never been scared that he would, but instinctively, I take a step back. Mathis grabs my arm. “I’m your life,” he growls, yanking me forward. The front door flies open, the bell above the door clanging loud against the glass as Noah storms into the shop. His eyes lock on Mathis’s hand as Mathis spins around. “Let her go.” Noah’s voice remains calm, but I can tell he’s anything but. Mathis glares at Noah, and they have some sort of stand-off. After several seconds, I jerk my arm away, and Mathis lets me go. I run straight into Noah’s arms. He wraps me up, pulling me tight against his side. “You hurt?” he asks, examining the red finger marks on my arm. “I’m fine,” I whisper, the emotion from everything finally catching up to me. “You make everything fine.” He kisses me softly, and Mathis cackles loud and long from where he’s retreated across the room. “Well, isn’t this fucking beautiful?” he declares in a voice that can only mean trouble. I bury myself against Noah, because when I’m in his arms, nothing Mathis says can get to me. “Kind of surprising,” Mathis says, taking a step toward us, “that you’d choose another druggy after what happened to Kim.” Except that—that can get to me. Noah’s body goes rigid against mine, but I rejoice when he keeps his arms firmly locked around me. “Wait?” Mathis wags his finger at Noah and me. “You did tell him, didn’t you?” “Mathis.” I shake my head, silently pleading with him. “No one needs to hear any more of your lies. Why are you doing this?” “Why am I doing this?” he admonishes. “Because you’re mine.” His voice booms through Charlotte’s shop, loud and strong. “You’re a St. James. Your father is likely going to be our next vice president.” I feel Noah’s eyes on me as Mathis speaks, but I can’t look up. Not yet. I don’t have the courage. So I stay focused on Mathis, absorbing each hateful hit, one syllable at a time. “Do you really think he’s going to let you be with someone like him?” he spits, motioning toward Noah, who has now released his arm from around my waist. “What’s he talking about?” Noah says softly. Closing my eyes, I gather every last bit of courage I can find and hold on to the knowledge that Noah and I are meant to be together, and that he will forgive me for what I’ve kept from him once he understands. When I open my eyes, Noah’s watching me curiously. He doesn’t look pissed, but he sure as hell doesn’t look happy. “Oh, this is getting better by the minute,” Mathis says. “You failed to tell him that part too, didn’t you? Well, let me do it for you—” “Mathis—” “Lennon is heir to the Barrick-St. James empire, and oh, what an empire it is.” “Mathis, don’t,” I plead. “Her father, Christopher St. James, owns one of the biggest companies in the country and will likely be your next vice president. But it gets better,” he says, taking a step toward Noah. Hate for Mathis overpowers every other emotion I’m feeling, and it pushes me forward. I shove at his chest, but he just laughs at me. “Her mother is Renee Barrick, one of the most powerful A-list celebrities in the country. You’ve

heard of her, right?” I push again, harder and harder, shoving him back each time, but he doesn’t stop. My anger only fuels his until his words explode around me. “And tell him about the drugs, Leni.” “You son of a bitch! You know damn well those weren’t my drugs.” I take a step toward Mathis. When his eyes shift, I quickly whirl around to face Noah. “Don’t listen to him,” I beg, rushing toward him. But Noah doesn’t spare me a glance. His eyes are on Mathis. I grab his hand in mine. “He’ll say anything to rip us apart. He’s lying. Don’t listen to him.” But Mathis isn’t done. “Tell him about the arrest and the tabloids and the drugs and how your parents forced you out of town.” Desperately, I grab Noah’s face and pull it toward mine. His eyes are cold and lifeless. “Please. Please look at me Noah. You know me. I should have explained all of this a long time ago—” “How the fuck did you not know?” Mathis says, flinging his words at Noah. “Don’t you watch the news? Her face was plastered everywhere for weeks. She’s Leni Fucking Barrick, for God’s sakes.” Mathis turns toward me, shaking his head. “This is ridiculous, and this is exactly why you shouldn’t be with someone like him. He’s no one.” He jabs a finger toward Noah, who finally reacts. Stepping around me, Noah stalks forward, his giant frame eating the space between them as he crowds Mathis against the wall. Mathis squares his shoulders, puffing out his chest as he prepares to go head to head, but I know I can’t let Noah get into a fight. I won’t let him stoop to Mathis’s level because of me. “Noah—” I take a step toward them, but someone grabs my arm, stopping me. I twirl around. Charlotte shakes her head. “Let him handle this,” she whispers. A part of me is pissed at Charlotte for calling Noah, the other part of me grateful. But I yank my arm out of her grip. “Get the fuck out,” Noah growls. “Fuck you—” Noah’s arm whips back and his fist connects with Mathis’s face. The crack rings loud through the small space, and Mathis’s head flings to the side, blood spewing everywhere. Covering his nose and mouth, Mathis tries to stop the bleeding, but it’s no use. Blood seeps through his fingers and runs down his chin. “This is really who you want? Someone like him?” Mathis screeches at me. Noah pulls his arm back once more, but I lunge forward, wrapping my hands around his bicep. “Yes.” I tug on Noah’s arm, and he lowers it, but I don’t let him go because I need to be touching him. I need the connection. I need to know we’re okay—that we’ll be okay. “He’s everything I’ll ever want. He’s so much more than you’ll ever be.” With a disgusted shake of his head, Mathis plows out the front door, leaving a trail of blood behind him. “This isn’t over,” he calls over his shoulder. The door slams shut, and Noah shrugs out of my hold. “Noah.” I take a hesitant step toward him, but he dodges, stepping around me. My stomach drops, dread rolling through me. “Please, let me—” “Would you just give me one goddamn second to process this?” he shouts, pacing away from me. Running his hands down his face and through his hair, Noah takes several deep breaths. His body vibrates with energy, the vein on the side of his neck pulsing, and all I want to do is close this rift between us. The enormous gap I created. “Please,” I beg, trying again, but Noah whirls around. “Fine.” Noah turns to me, nostrils flared, chin held high. “You want to talk? We’ll talk.” I hate the

tightness in his voice, but mostly I don’t like that my secrets are hurting him. “Who the fuck are you, Lennon? Or is it Leni? Is your last name Barrick or St. James? You’re my goddamn girlfriend, and I don’t even know your real fucking name.” His voice rises with each word, and I flinch as it gets louder and louder. “Calm down, Noah.” Charlotte steps up next to me, no doubt to give me strength, and oh, how I wish I could absorb some of hers right now. But I can’t. I created this mess, and I’ve got to be the one to clean it up. Noah nods toward Charlotte. “Did she know?” Charlotte opens her mouth, but I rest my hand against her arm. “Charlotte recognized me when she first saw me.” Noah heaves a frustrated breath, his eyes darting toward Charlotte. “Would you give us a minute?” She purses her lips, and I can tell she doesn’t want to leave. She knows the truth, and it’s killing her that Noah is upset with me. But after several long seconds and one glare toward Noah, Charlotte turns and walks toward the back of the shop. Clearing my throat, I run my hands along the front of my jeans and tell Noah everything he wants to know. “My full name is Lennon Barrick-St. James. Renee Barrick is my mother.” His brown eyes bore into me. “You told me she was a Broadway actress.” I nod. “She was…when she first started out. Since then her career has…grown. And she did recently retire from acting. I didn’t lie to you about that.” “And your father?” “Christopher St. James. He’s Joseph Morgan’s running mate for the upcoming election. My mother wouldn’t change her last name, so they hyphenated mine. In my parents’ world, I’m known more as Leni Barrick.” “In your parents’ world,” he mumbles to himself before running a hand through his hair. “What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, your parents’ world?” “They live a different life than we do, Noah. They’re all glitz and fancy dinners and charity auctions. They wouldn’t know the meaning of a hard day’s work if it slapped them in the face.” His brows dip low. “You say they, but that’s your life, too. That’s the life you come from.” I shake my head. “Yes, I was born into that life, but that’s not who I am. Why do you think I was never in the public eye? Why do you think no one here knows who I am? I’m nobody, Noah. Until recently, I hadn’t been in the news in years. I’ve worked my ass off to separate myself from that world for a reason —because I don’t want that life. I don’t want what it represents. I don’t want to be a product of my environment.” “And yet you lied to me.” The pain in his eyes it too much, and I walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Instead of talking to me about it, you lied to me.” Noah’s arms hang limp at his sides, and I hate it. The familiar burn starts in my nose, and it’s only a matter of seconds before my eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry,” I sob, burying my face in his chest, absorbing his warm scent because I’m absolutely terrified I’ll never smell it again. “I just wanted a fresh start. I wasn’t trying to be deceitful. You have to know that that wasn’t my intention.” He scoffs. “I don’t know what to think. You kept a part of yourself from me. I gave you everything, put all of my secrets and insecurities out there for you to see, and you fucking kept yourself from me.” “I didn’t—” “Yes, you did,” he counters. “You told me the basics and kept the important things to yourself. Don’t you think I had a right to know who I was getting involved with?” I look up at him. “I didn’t leave out the important parts. I left out the parts that could influence the way

you looked at me. The important parts aren’t who my parents are, or what they do for a living. It’s not how big of a house I lived in or how large my trust fund is. I wanted you to look at me for who I am on the inside, not on the outside, and you did. You know me, Noah. Nothing has changed.” “Really?” He stares down at me. “Everything has changed, because right now I feel like I don’t know you at all.” “See? You’re doing it right now. You’re judging me because of who my parents are, because of the life I come from.” “No,” he growls, pulling out of my hold. “I’m judging you because you lied to me, because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me who you are.” “You know who I am!” I yell, frustrated that we’re talking in circles and equally grateful he hasn’t brought up the other bomb Mathis dropped. “No.” He shakes his head sadly. “The world knows who you are.” Dropping his chin to his chest, Noah grows quiet. When he looks back up and those brown eyes go liquid with pain, I know what’s coming next. “And the drugs. Drugs, Lennon! You were arrested?” he booms. “Noah…” My eyes grow wide. “You have to let me explain.” “I can’t fuckin’ do this,” he shouts. My blood runs cold. “What do you mean, you can’t do this? You have to do this; you have to let me explain.” Noah turns toward the front door. I wait for him to turn back to me, but he doesn’t. In three steps, he has his fingers wrapped around the door handle. “You can’t leave,” I plead. “We need to talk about this. You can’t walk away from me—from us.” Finally, he whirls around, giving me the chocolate eyes I crave. “This isn’t me walking away. This is me leaving so I can get my fucking head straight before I say something I’m going to regret.” With that, he rips my heart from my chest and walks out the door. I stand frozen as Noah climbs into his car, and somehow, I manage to keep myself under control until his taillights fade into the night. But the moment they disappear, the world crashes down around me. I fall to my knees, the weight of what just happened too much to bear. My heart breaks and while every part of me wants to blame Mathis and my mother, I have to own some of this too.



Mathis—fucking prick—must’ve called the media. By the time I hit my front door, I’ve had two calls from local reporters wanting a statement on my “love affair with New York’s hottest socialite.” I hung up both times. “Nova’s asleep.” I nod. “Thanks, Mikey.” I shut the front door and kick off my boots. “Charlotte called me two hours ago and said you left the shop. She wanted to make sure you made it home okay.” “Charlotte needs to mind her own goddamn business.” Grabbing the remote, I shut off the TV and move into the kitchen, hoping Mikey will catch my drift and get the hell out. He doesn’t. “Wanna talk about it?” Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I twist the top and chug, not stopping until the whole damn thing is drained. All the while, Mike watches silently from the doorway. After I’m finished, I toss the bottle into the trash, grab another from the fridge, and walk back to the living room, stopping in front of Mike. “What do you want to discuss, Mikey? That the entire world knows who my girlfriend is except me? That she knows everything about my life, and yet I know nothing about hers?” Mathis’s words rotate over and over in my head, taunting me. As much as I don’t want to believe them, I can’t get them out of my fucking head. Kind of surprising that you’d choose another druggy after Kim. Druggy? Lennon? My heart doesn’t want to believe it, but my heart has been wrong before, and I sure as hell don’t want to go down that road again. I won’t go down that road again—and neither will Nova. “Or do you want to chat about how, apparently, our dear, sweet Lennon has a past with drugs?” Mikey’s lips part, and shock—similar to the way I feel about it—crosses his face. His mouth opens and closes several times as he shakes his head. “Noah, man, I don’t even know what to say. You know Lennon. Do you really believe she’d do drugs? She certainly doesn’t seem to be using now.” Opening my next beer, I take a swig and shrug. “I don’t know what to think. She lied to me about her family. Why the hell wouldn’t she lie to me about something else?” “Have you asked her?” His words light me up like a fucking bottle rocket. “I don’t want to fucking talk to her. I trusted her,

Mikey. Gave her every last fucking piece of myself, and she gave me nothing. Nothing!” I yell. Mikey’s eyes dart down the hall and then back to me. “Quiet, man. I know you’re upset, but you don’t want to scare Nova.” He’s right. I don’t want to scare her. It’s bad enough that I might be ripping someone she loves from her life. And this is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. Stalking toward the front door, I yank it open. “I wanna be alone.” He nods, walking toward me, stopping when we’re shoulder to shoulder. “Talk to her, Noah. I know you’re hurting, buddy. Maybe she kept some serious shit from you, and I’m on your side, but don’t shut her out without hearing what she has to say.” “You done?” “Yeah.” He claps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Call me if you need anything.” My only response is to grunt and slam the door when he leaves. With the bottle perched at my lips, I turn to the all-too-quiet living room, which is saturated with memories of Lennon—laughing as she chased Nova down the hall; snoring softly when she fell asleep during the movie, tucked up against my side; smiling as Nova performed a dance routine on the fireplace hearth. The images shoot through my head like rapid-fire bullets, and I hate it. Taking another long pull from the bottle, I walk into my bedroom, but Lennon follows me there, too. She’s everywhere—her pajama shirt thrown across my bed, purple flip flops tucked in the corner. With every breath I take, I can smell her. It’s the smell of sunshine and flowers, and I fucking hate that too. Anger has been brewing inside of me since the second I walked into Tease, and now I can feel that anger preparing to explode, unleashing an avalanche of pain. I have to get it out. I have to work through it. Stalking back through the house, I head for my garage where there’s an old punching bag hanging from the rafters. I haven’t hit that damn thing in years, but right now it’s exactly what I need. With each swing, I growl and curse, letting the rage flow freely from my body and into the bag that sways under the strength of my arms and legs. I kick and punch, and I don’t stop until my chest is heaving, my arms and legs ache, and sweat pours down my face. Then, and only then, does the fog lift, and I realize what I have to do. With a loud sigh, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and return to my house. Every step is fueled by adrenaline, which only increases when I grab my laptop from my dresser, fire it up, and type Lennon’s name into the search engine. My blood runs cold, sucking all of the heat from my body as I’m hit with an onslaught of pictures and articles—all dated a couple of months ago, not long before she came here. Leni Barrick goes on week-long drug bender. Leni Barrick is at it again! Leni Barrick can’t stop, and this time she’s bringing her on-again/off-again boyfriend, Mathis Perry, along for the ride. Each article is accompanied by at least one picture, and I click on the first one, enlarging it. It’s Lennon and Mathis walking toward a car. His arm’s around her as though he’s holding her up—or maybe she’s holding him up. It’s hard to tell because the pictures are grainy. They’ve got a coat draped over their heads, no doubt trying to shield themselves from the cameras. Several more shots follow that one, all of them of Lennon and Mathis as they duck into a car. But it’s the last one that causes my heart to stop. Lennon’s lifeless eyes are glassy and red as they connect with the cameras. Surrounded by dark circles, they’re void of any happiness, and Lennon looks so much like one of my final memories of Kim that it steals the breath right out of my lungs. Pushing my fingers into my eyes, I drop my head, trying so hard to justify what I just saw. Maybe she was sick, or maybe she had been crying.

Or maybe she was high. Taking a deep breath, I look back at the computer and continue to scroll. My previous thoughts are erased when a picture pops up of Lennon pressed against a cop car. Her cheek is smashed against the white hood, her hands cuffed behind her back, and the sight is almost too much to bear. Then I see a plastic bag in the officer’s hand. “No,” I breathe. With a shaky hand, I zoom in, and my entire world tilts on its axis. “Fuck,” I hiss. Shoving up from the couch, I pace around the living room. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I know Lennon. She might not have given me all the details of her background, but I know her heart. At least I think I do. I’ve seen what drugs can do to a person. Not once have I looked at her and suspected she’s on drugs. This has to be a mistake. There has to be an explanation. With a resigned sigh, I vow to hear her out, but the pictures are pretty damn incriminating. Lennon’s mug shot is next, only she doesn’t look like my Lennon at all. Her hair is longer—blonder— and her face is thick with makeup, somehow making her eyes look much bigger than I know them to be. Black streaks run down her red cheeks, and her eyes are filled with so much sadness that I want to reach through the computer and comfort her. Socialite Leni Barrick was arrested Saturday night for possession of a controlled substance. Charges have yet to be filed against the daughter of vice presidential candidate Christopher St. James. The next photo was clearly taken on a different night, and closer inspection reveals it to be from several days before her arrest. She’s with Mathis again, but their clothes are different, and they aren’t being arrested. They’re in what looks to be a high-end nightclub. Socialite Leni Barrick appears to have danced herself into another round of media scrutiny Lennon has a drink in one hand and her other pressed to Mathis’s back. She appears to be whispering something in his ear. Seeing her that close to him makes me want to punch the little fucker all over again. Instead, I jam my finger against my mouse, flipping to the next picture. There are several more of the two of them huddled close together, only this time Mathis looks like the one who’s upset. And then I get to next picture. Leni Barrick makes her parents proud one blow at a time She’s sprawled out on the sidewalk, her skirt bunched around her hips, putting her long, gorgeous legs —as well as her red thong—on full display. Her eyelids are droopy, and it looks as though the picture was snapped either as she fell or as she was scrambling to get up, because the terror on her face is evident. I scroll down to skim through the article attached to the photo. Leni Barrick met with Mathis Perry and a group of friends for a night out on the town. The group started at Blue, a burlesque-style club, and ended the night at Glass House, where they dropped nearly 20K on drinks in less than an hour. After stumbling out of the club (pictured above) at 2:00 a.m., Barrick snuggled in the backseat of a car with Mathis, whom she claims she’s no longer connected to romantically. A source close to the couple tells us both Leni and Mathis love to party, and their tastes don’t stop at alcohol. But what does Daddy Dearest think of Leni’s extracurricular activities, and will they affect Joseph Morgan’s run for the presidency? I can’t read any more. As much as I want to devour every single article I can find, I can’t. For my own

sanity, I have to walk away. But before I shut everything down, I print some of the pictures and articles, because I want Lennon to look me in the eyes and deny what’s right in front of me. As much as it pains me to say it, I’m not so sure she can, and I can’t have a woman like that around Nova. I knew she was too good to be true. Setting my laptop on my dresser, I crawl into bed. But it’s useless to try to fall asleep, because all I can think about is Lennon and how much it’s going to hurt when I have to let her go. Then I’m reminded that this is all her fault, and the anger starts all over again. By the time morning rolls around, I’ve gotten an hour of sleep. On pure adrenaline alone, I’m able to get Nova dressed and to my mother’s, all the while fielding and dodging Nova’s questions about when she’ll see Lennon again. And then, I text Lennon.



“It’s over,” I say, looking down at the text Noah sent me at eight o’clock this morning. I’ll be at your house at nine. We need to talk. “He’s coming to break up with me. I can feel it in my bones.” “It’s not over.” Charlotte grabs the phone from my hands and puts it on the end table. “He said he wants to talk, so all you have to do is explain everything to him the way you did to me, apologize your ass off, and then boom—make-up sex.” “I’m not sure it’s going to be that easy, Char. You didn’t see the way Noah looked at me last night, like I was a complete stranger, or a monster. He was disgusted, and I don’t blame him.” I walk to the window and pull the curtain back, both surprised and relieved that the paps haven’t shown up at my door. Not that I’m that newsworthy, but last night Charlotte fielded several calls at her shop from reporters wanting to know where I’ve been and who my new “mystery man” is. “You’re not going to win him back thinking like that.” “Maybe I need to walk away now before I hurt them more than I already have,” I say, staring at Noah’s front door, just wanting a glimpse of him. “Well, that’s a stupid thing to do. Now’s the time for you to fight for him, fight for the life you want. You need to show him how much he and his daughter mean to you.” I shake my head, feeling helpless. “I don’t know how to do that. He’s not going to believe me.” “You don’t know that.” Letting go of the curtain, I turn to Charlotte. “Did you see how pissed he was last night? And that was because I didn’t tell him who my parents are. How the hell am I going to explain away a drug-related arrest?” “Easy.” Charlotte looks at me like I’m stupid. “You’re going to tell him the truth, and if he loves you as much as I think he does, he’s going to believe you.” For the first time since last night, hope blooms in my chest. “You think he loves me?” “Lennon.” Charlotte wraps me in her arms. “He wouldn’t be so hurt if he didn’t. You made a mistake not telling him.” She pulls back to look me in the eyes. “You’re human. We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you weren’t doing it to be malicious or to hurt him, and he’ll see that.” “Let’s hope—” Both of us turn toward the front door when my words are cut off by three loud knocks. “Here’s your chance.” She slaps my ass and pushes me toward the door. “I’m going to slip out the back.” “Hey, Charlotte?” “Yeah?” she says, glancing over her shoulder.

“I always wanted a friend like you. No matter what happens today, nothing changes us. Got it?” Tears fill her eyes, and she nods jerkily before walking out the back door. With a deep breath, I tell myself that no matter what, we can overcome this, and I open the door. Noah looks exhausted. His hair looks as though he spent the night running his hands through it, and there are dark circles under his eyes, no doubt caused by yours truly. I have to shove my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie to keep from reaching for him. “Hey.” “We need to talk.” His clipped tone leaves me feeling dejected, and I scoot to the side when he steps into my house. Noah has a stack of papers clutched in his hands, and I don’t miss the small tremble rolling through them. My eyes roam up his arms, over his face, and toward his jaw, which is clenched tight, and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to throw myself at him and beg for forgiveness. Handing me the first piece of paper, Noah asks, “Is that you?” I gasp when I see what’s on the paper—a photo from the first night I went after Mathis. He had called me, threatening to kill himself if I didn’t at least talk to him. “Yes, that’s me. Mathis called and—” “And what about this?” he asks, completely ignoring me. “Is that you?” My stomach rolls when Noah holds up a picture of me getting arrested. Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick. “Yes,” I choke out. “But it’s not what it—” He tosses another photo at me, and a sob rips from my throat as my own eyes stare back at me from a mug shot. “Were you arrested for drug possession?” Tears well up in my eyes and all I can manage is a small nod. “It was the worst day of my life.” “I bet it was,” Noah says. “I want to know what drug you were in possession of when you were arrested.” Squeezing my eyes shut, a rush of tears falls down my cheeks. “They weren’t my drugs.” He scoffs. “I bet they weren’t. Funny though, that’s the same thing Kim said to me after she got arrested.” My eyes snap up at his hateful tone. “Now answer the question.” I stare at him, but it’s not my Noah I’m looking at. This is a shell of the man I fell in love with. He’s cold and angry and hurt, and I should’ve been honest from the beginning. “Cocaine and heroin.” When Noah flinches, my knees buckle, and I have to reach for the back of the couch to keep from falling over. “Noah, please, let me explain.” Vehemently, he shakes his head, and for the first time since he walked in the door, I see emotion in his glossy eyes. “I trusted you, Lennon. I brought you into my home, into my life—into my daughter’s life—and into my heart. Because you’re here.” He places a fist over the left side of his chest. “You’re in my heart. How the hell am I supposed to get you out?” “You’re not.” I shake my head. “Don’t get me out. I can make this right, I promise. You just have to give me the chance to explain.” Noah laughs mirthlessly. “I’m not sure I want you to explain.” That’s what I was afraid of. I take a step forward, but Noah holds his hands up, refusing to let me any closer, and it pisses me off. He says I’m in his heart, yet he won’t let me fucking talk. “I’ve traveled this road before, Lennon, and I vowed never to go down it again. These pictures tell me everything I need to know.” Picking up the articles and photos, Noah tosses them at me. The papers scatter to the floor in a wild mess. That’s exactly how I feel right now. Noah looks up at me, tears in his beautiful

brown eyes. “Don’t you dare compare me to Kim,” I yell. “We’re nothing alike. The situations are nothing alike, and you’d know that if you’d let me fucking talk.” “You want to talk?” He holds his arms out the side. “Fine, explain it to me.” I take a deep breath, relieved that I’m finally getting somewhere. “Mathis threatened to kill himself if I didn’t talk to him, and I couldn’t take that chance.” Noah’s nostrils flare at the mention of Mathis’ name, his jaw clenched tight, but I push forward, desperate to get my side of the story out. “I found him at a club, finally got him to leave with me, and we got pulled over. I didn’t know Mathis had drugs on him. He lied and told the cops the drugs were mine, and I was arrested. But they weren’t mine, Noah.” “You lied to me.” “About what? About my parents?” “I don’t give a shit about your parents,” he roars. “I don’t care what name you fucking go by. What I care about is that you kept something of this magnitude from me.” “I was going to tell you about the drugs and about the arrest.” “Were you?” he asks, shaking his head. “You had to know it was going to be a problem for me.” Noah runs a hand through his hair, over his face. “I can’t do this.” “That’s it? You’re just going to walk away? You’re not even going to try to understand where I was coming from?” “You didn’t give me a choice,” he says, his words broken as a lone tear slips down his cheek. That tear is my undoing. My anger dissipates and is replaced by fear and doubt, because he let me explain, and it didn’t make a difference. “I can fix this. I can fix us. You just have to let me.” Noah shakes his head. “I can’t. Nova is my entire life. She’s everything, and she deserves everything in return. As much as I want to believe you, I don’t. You kept something huge from me…” Noah’s voice cracks, his words trailing off as he tries to regain his composure. “You’re only telling me now because you don’t have a choice. How can I trust that you aren’t keeping something else back? I won’t do it, Lennon. I can’t.” Then he turns to go. “Noah, wait!” I plead, chasing him toward the door. I reach for his arm, but he shakes me off, refusing to slow his pace. He’s out the door faster than I can keep up, and I stumble down the porch steps behind him, losing my balance and falling to the ground. He doesn’t look back, and I scrounge to get up, running after him. This can’t be the end. Noah stops abruptly and whips around, his face stopping me in my tracks. “Why are you doing this? You’re making this so much harder. You need to stop. Stop, Lennon,” he begs, breaking my heart all over again. “I can’t,” I sob, shaking my head. “I swear I’m not keeping anything else from you. You have to believe me. I just wanted you to know the real me before all the bad stuff came out.” Furrowing his brow, Noah stares at me—it’s cold and brittle, but his eyes are still on me and that’s all that matters. He’s all that matters. “I love you, Noah.” He flinches at my declaration, and I scramble toward him. “I love you, and I love your daughter. So much.” “Don’t.” “I love you.” With each declaration, I can see him breaking a little bit more, so I keep saying it,

hoping he’ll finally believe me. “I love you. I love you so much. You’re my entire world, you and Nova. You’re all I need,” I sob. He shakes his head. “Yes, and I will make this right. I will fight for you because you two are mine,” I declare. “You’ll always be mine, and I’m not going to walk away from that. I’m not going to walk away from you, because I love you.” “You don’t know the meaning of love,” he says, the fight draining from his body. “If you loved me, you would have been open from the beginning. You had a million chances to tell me the truth, a million different opportunities to come clean, but you didn’t. Every single day you kept something from me, because you knew it would be a deal breaker. If you loved me the way you say you do, you would have found a way to tell me about the drugs and the arrest. I should’ve heard it from you, not from Mathis. Not from the internet.” “You don’t get it.” I swipe at the tears streaking down my face. “For the first time in my life, I had a man—you—looking at me and falling for me and not because of my name or who my parents are or how much money I have, but because of me. Because of Lennon. Because of who I am on the inside,” I say, a hand clenched over my heart. “Do you know what it feels like to have to wonder if someone is trying to be in my life just to get closer to my father or to our money? It’s horrible. It’s a cold, empty feeling that I never want to feel again, and you showed me it doesn’t have to be like that. You showed me that someone can love me for me. You and Nova showed me that the kind of life I’ve always wanted is possible, and I want that life with you, Noah. I came here to get away from that mess with Mathis. So the last thing I wanted to do was bring it up when I met someone new. And after you told me about Kim, I was scared that if I told you about the arrest, I would lose you before I even really had you.” My voice cracks. I squeeze my eyes shut, allowing the tears to fall, opening myself up, showing him my heart and my soul and everything in between. “If you would just listen to me—believe me—you’d realize I’m telling you the truth. You know me! I’m not a drug user. Give me a chance to make this right, and I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving to you that I’m not that girl—” I point back to the house, to the pictures lying on my living room floor. “—and that you can trust me, because you can trust me. I just need you to love me enough to give me that chance.” I wait with bated breath for Noah to say something. The seconds tick by, his eyes searching mine, and I can tell his heart is warring with his head. The sound of a car pulling up vaguely registers, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut, but I can’t look away from Noah. He’s a part of me now, and if he walks away, I’ll undoubtedly fall apart. I see his answer before the words pass through his lips. Heartache and pain shine in his eyes, and I know he’s done. “Don’t,” I beg, sobs wracking my body. “Please don’t.” “I have to,” he whispers. Noah turns around, walking away from me, and I lunge forward to grab his shirt. But he keeps going, and I fall to the dew-soaked grass. My feet slip as I try to get up, and two strong arms wrap around me from behind, keeping me from going after him. “Shhh. Calm down.” I collapse against Mikey as Noah walks through his front door, shutting me out. “Oh God,” I cry, my shoulders slumping forward. But Mikey doesn’t let me fall; he just holds me. He doesn’t try to tell me everything is going to be okay, and I appreciate that. But his presence doesn’t waver as I cry and scream for everything I’ve lost, for everything I’ll spend the rest of my life dreaming about, and only when my body goes limp against his does Mikey scoop me up and carry me into my house. The next day goes by in a blur of tears. Sometime during the day Mikey leaves and Charlotte shows up again. They try to calm me down, but it’s no use. How can I calm down and be at peace when the person who owns my heart walked away?

Eventually the pain turns back into anger. He said I’m in his heart, yet he doesn’t believe me. If he truly loved me, wouldn’t he believe me? Wouldn’t he want to give us chance? I call Noah several times, leaving message after message, begging him to talk to me, and when he starts sending my calls to voicemail, I resort to texting. Not once does he respond, and eventually Charlotte takes my phone away from me. “Come on, sweetie,” she says, tugging me up from the little ball I’ve formed on my couch. “Let’s go outside and get some fresh air.” I follow her idly out the front door. My hair is no doubt a complete disaster, my makeup from yesterday probably smeared all over my face, and I don’t give a damn. It’s probably going to be like that for a while—me not giving a damn. Because I lost my reason. At least that’s how it feels. Curling my legs under me, I ball up on the porch rocking chair, and Charlotte takes a seat on the front steps. I can’t help it; my eyes instantly lock on Noah’s house, which is dark. Not a single light is on, his car is gone from the driveway, and I can’t help needing to know where he is and what he’s doing. Is he hurting as badly as I am? Has he listened to my voicemails and read my texts? Where is Nova? What will he tell her? Does she hate me? Shaking my head, I stand up. “I can’t do this.” The tears start all over again. “Yes, you can.” Charlotte pushes me back in the chair. “Your life is not over, Lennon.” “Really?” I scoff. “Because I don’t think it can get much worse than this.” “That’s because it’s still raw. Everything just happened, and you’re not looking at your life with clear eyes. Give him some time. Noah is a sensible guy—” “He doesn’t believe me, Charlotte,” I argue. She shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s it at all. I think he’s scared to believe you. All this brings back the pain of what happened with Kim.” “Okay, I can see that. But how do I convince him I’m not Kim and I won’t hurt him like she did if he doesn’t give me the chance?” I feel frustration and panic rising. “Nothing I tell him makes a difference!” “Give him time to miss you. He’s hurt and scared, but I think he’ll come around.” I want to believe her, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. “What if he doesn’t?” “Well,” she sighs, glancing at me. “Then you’ll pick yourself up, dust yourself off, learn from your mistakes, and move on. If Noah isn’t smart enough to realize what a great person you are, it’s his loss, because you are a great person. You have this big, giant heart, and someday that heart will be yours again. When you choose to give it away, you can handle things differently.” A car pulls into Noah’s driveway, capturing our attention. “Noah,” I breathe, scooting to the edge of the chair. Charlotte places a hand on my leg, silently telling me not to go after him, but when I see Nova, all bets are off. She catches sight of me, and before Noah can grab her, she comes bounding across the yard. I leap off the porch and run straight for her. We slam together, her arms wrapping around my neck with so much force that it takes my breath away, but I don’t move or ask her to loosen them because I just need to hold her. Finally, she lets go, and she’s all bright eyed and smiling. But her smile dims when she sees my tears. “Why are you crying?” she asks, wiping my face. “Because I missed you,” I say, giving her a tremulous smile. “I missed you, too!” Noah walks up behind her, and I gaze up at him, just waiting for him to look at me, but he doesn’t. His

eyes are locked on the back of Nova’s head, his hands shoved in his pockets as he lets us have our moment. Eventually his eyes slide to mine, and I see the slightest slip of his armor. For a brief second I see the grief and pain he’s feeling, and I also see love. But just as quickly as it appears, the look is gone. “Come on, Nova.” Noah places a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got to get you ready for bed.” “Can Lennon come over and tuck me in?” she asks, and I know he hasn’t told her a thing. “You know what?” I say, pulling her in close like I’ve got a secret. “I can’t come over tonight, because I’ve got something really special I have to do.” Her eyes grow big. “What is it?” “I have a princess dress to make,” I whisper, smiling when her smile grows as big as her eyes. “It’s gonna be so pretty.” Her voice is filled with wonder, and emotion crawls up my throat because that’s one of the many things I’m going to miss about Nova—her youth and innocence. “Nova, we’ve got to go.” Noah’s tone leaves no room for argument, and my beautiful little princess wraps her arms around me one more time with a promise that she’ll see me later. I hope so, sweet girl. Slowly I stand, watching the two people I love with every last piece of my heart walk away. The front door shuts, and I stare at it for several seconds—or maybe it’s minutes or hours. By the time the sun dips below the horizon, wrapping my bleak world in a dark blanket, I’ve convinced myself Charlotte is right. Noah just needs time. Once he cools off and really thinks things through, he’ll come to his senses. And if he doesn’t… Well, that’s just something I’ll have to deal with when the time comes. For now though, there’s no way I can live in this house day after day, watching Nova and Noah, and not want to be a part of their lives. Completely defeated and not at all ready to move on, I turn toward my house. Charlotte is standing on the porch with her hands clenched in a ball under her chin. Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I walk toward her. “What do you need?” she asks. I shake my head. “I can’t stay here. I can’t look at his house day after day and not want to go over there and beg him to talk to me.” She nods her head, a sheer gloss covering her eyes. “I understand. What are you going to do? You’re more than welcome to come stay with me for a while.” “Thank you, I appreciate that, but I’ve got to go back to New York anyway. I have to finish getting things ready for the Children Everywhere auction.” Charlotte knows all about the auction, and considering she worked her way through the system as a child, the charity holds a special place in heart as well. “Want me to come with you?” she asks. “I can close up shop for a few days, help you get started, see New York.” “Thank you, but I would never ask you to do something like that.” “You don’t have to ask. I’m offering.” “I know you are, and I love you for that. But I refuse to let you close your shop for me. I’ve got a full staff in place to help with the event. Plus, I’ll be crazy busy with more than enough to keep me occupied. The auction’s in three weeks.” “I’m going to miss your crazy ass,” she says. I half laugh/half sob and pull Charlotte into my arms. “You’re the crazy ass.” We hold on to each other until our tears are dry. “When will you go? Want me to help you pack your stuff?” she asks. I nod. “That would be great. But there’s one thing I have to do first.” Charlotte cocks her head to the side, and I grab her hand. “Follow me and I’ll show you.”



Charlotte has helped me pack what I need to take to New York, and the rest we’ll leave for later. I still hope I’ll have a reason to come back here soon. It’s taken me all of the last two days, but I’ve finished the most gorgeous dress I’ve ever made—and I’ve made a massive amount of dresses. The material is perfect and will look amazing on Nova. I add sequins and rhinestones everywhere so she’ll have the ultimate glitter effect when she twirls. A smile tugs at the thought of her dancing in the living room with Noah. If only I could be there to see it, and to see her face when she unwraps the box and tries the dress on for the first time. After spending an endless number of hours making it perfect, I went to a little boutique in town and bought a pair of shimmery dress-up heels to go with it. Folding the dress, I place it gently in a box, along with the shoes and a white envelope. I wrap it all up in sparkly pink paper and top it with a shiny purple bow. “Perfect.” I place the box on the couch next to me. With a resigned sigh, I make one last pass through the house to make sure I didn’t forget anything I’ll need while I’m gone, and then I walk Nova’s box over to her house. I haven’t seen Noah or Nova since that evening in my yard, and it hasn’t been for lack of trying. My heart flutters in my chest when I see that their living room light is on. With a big, deep breath, I knock twice and hope beyond hope that Noah doesn’t slam the door in my face. If I’m lucky, maybe Nova will answer. If I’m really lucky, Noah will be thinking differently about us. The door cracks open, and Noah stares back at me, his face a blank mask. “What are you doing here, Lennon?” I’ve never had good luck, and it doesn’t start now. Squaring my shoulders, I vow not to throw myself at his feet. Not that I don’t want to, because I really, really do. But I can’t make him believe me, and I certainly won’t beg. The resignation in his eyes slices at my heart. “I, uh…” I hold up the gift-wrapped box. “I brought something for Nova. Is she here?” His eyes narrow. “No, she’s not.” “Oh…okay.” I look back at my empty house, wondering if it’s worth my time to hang around until she gets home. “Will she be back soon?” “No.” I turn back to Noah. It’s clear he doesn’t want me here and doesn’t want me around his daughter. One would think I’d be used to that feeling—of not being wanted—with the way my parents are, but I don’t

think a person ever gets used to that. “Will you give her this?” I lift the box toward Noah, and he opens the door wider, taking it from my hands. “Please tell her that I love her and I’m thinking of her every single day.” Noah’s eyes harden. “Don’t do this.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Don’t make this harder on her than it’s already going to be.” Noah tries to hand the box back, but I take a step away from him, refusing to take it. “I’m not trying to make things harder,” I tell him. “But I promised her a princess dress, and I don’t break promises.” “You also promised that you’d catch me if I fell,” he sneers. “Instead you let me land face first, and if I was hesitant about moving on before, I’m damn sure I’ll never leap like that again.” My cracked heart shatters, falling in tiny little pieces around me. “You’re wrong. I would’ve caught you. I still will if you give me the chance. But you never jumped, Noah. You have to meet me halfway. The truth is, I love you. And I love that little girl. I would fight for both of you until the day I die, but I can’t fight for someone who won’t fight for me. I deserve better than that. So goodbye.” Lennon turns, fleeing from my life almost as fast as she entered it, and the ache in my chest gets stronger with each step she takes toward her car. When she pulls out of the driveway, I feel like my fucking heart is being ripped from my chest and dragged along the road behind her. After finding out about the drugs, I thought it would be easy to forget about her, to push my feelings aside. It hasn’t been easy at all. In fact, it’s been damn near impossible. I think about her all the time, and when she showed up at my door, I was reminded of just how strong my feelings for her remain. But I can’t act on them. Despite what I feel for her, I can’t let her back into our lives because she’s clearly not who I thought she was. Even if she’s telling the truth, I’m not sure it’s worth the risk. Pissed off that I’m letting my feelings for her override the anger I need to focus on, I slam the door shut and stalk down the hall, ignoring Nova when she pops her head out of her bedroom and asks where I’m going. In my bedroom, I toss the box on my dresser and stare at the offending glittery paper, trying to decide whether or not to give it to Nova. And the fact that I’m even considering not giving it to her makes me a top contender for worst father ever. Nova will love the dress, I’m sure of it. She’ll probably love it almost as much as she loves the woman who made it. But can I stand to see her in it day after day? Will it be a constant reminder of the life I could’ve had—the life I almost had? Who am I kidding, that life is a lie now.

For three long, lonely weeks, the box stays on my dresser. I’ve stared at it. I’ve cursed at it. I’ve even picked it up and thrown it in the trash—only to drag it back out seconds later. Now it’s sitting on the coffee table, bearing the weight of my heavy gaze. The past three weeks have worn me down more than I ever could’ve imagined. Nova and I only had Lennon in our lives for a short time, but we feel her absence every day. I’m not sure who misses her more,

me or Nova. It took a week for Nova to start asking questions. Where’s Lennon? Why hasn’t she come by? Can we go see her? In week two, I told her that Lennon wouldn’t be coming back. I made up some bullshit about Lennon having to go home where her family is. She’s too young for the truth. Even without it, she was a complete mess. Seeing my daughter cry like that was my undoing, and it was the first time I really second-guessed my decision to remove Lennon from our lives. But then I looked at the pictures on the internet and reminded myself that she isn’t the person I thought she was, and I can’t let someone like that into our lives. So here we are, on day twenty-one of fucking misery, and the guilt has eaten at me so much that I have to give Nova the dress. I hope it will give her a nice memory of Lennon, as I can never tell her the truth. As much as I hate it, it isn’t right for me to keep something from her I know she’ll love, especially when it was made with so much love. I’ve never—not once—doubted Lennon’s love for Nova. In a fit of anger, I may have said some things suggesting as much, but my heart knows Lennon loves my little girl. It’s that sentiment that drove me to bring the box into the living room. “You’re finally gonna give it to her, huh?” I nod, looking up at Mikey. “Looks like it.” “You’re doing the right thing.” He hands me the beer he just pulled from the refrigerator and takes a seat next to me on the couch. “How ya holding up?” “Still don’t want to talk about it, Mike,” I warn, taking a pull from my bottle. “Okay,” he concedes—a little too easily. It typically takes him at least three tries before he gives up. Fucker is relentless these days. “How about we talk about Ricky.” “Interesting change of subject.” “He’s reopening his father’s shop.” “No shit?” No idea how he’s managing that, but good for him. “Yup,” Mikey says, taking a drink. “Big ol’ building downtown. New equipment and everything.” Now that’s fucking strange. “How the hell is he doing that?” Ricky’s been up front with me about the debt he was left with after his father’s death. His dream has always been to reopen the shop, but that kind of equipment would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars that Ricky doesn’t have. Downing the rest of his beer, Mikey puts his bottle on the coffee table and stands up. “You should go down there and ask him yourself.” “Or you could just tell me.” Because I don’t feel like going anywhere. I feel like staring at this goddamn box. Maybe if I stare long enough, it’ll reveal just how the fuck I’m supposed to move on once it’s opened. Or maybe answer the one question I can’t seem to get out of my mind: Did I make a mistake? A grin stretches over Mikey’s mouth. “Where’s the fun in that? It’s a great story, and he should be the one to tell you.” I glance again at the box on the coffee table. My mom took Nova shopping today and won’t be home for another hour or so. What the hell. “Let’s go.” “Thought you’d never ask.” With way too much pep in his step, Mikey walks to the door. What the hell has gotten into him? I’m careful not to look at Lennon’s house as we climb into Mikey’s truck and pull out of the driveway. Every time I catch a glimpse of it, the feelings start creeping back in. Who am I kidding? They’ve never really left. But I’ve done a damn good job of trying to suppress them, and when I look at her house, I have to spend a couple of days pushing them back down again. So it’s best if I don’t even go there.

We make the short drive into town, and I’ll be damned if there isn’t a brick building on the main drag with a large sign that reads Custom Cycles. Mikey parks in front, and we head inside. Ricky spots us as soon as we walk through the door. “Noah!” Wiping his hands on a rag, he comes over and offers his hand for a shake. “I’m glad you stopped by. I’ve got something to show you.” “Looks like you’ve got a lot to show me. Congratulations, man. When did all this happen? I knew you were wanting to do it, but I didn’t think you were planning it this soon.” Ricky shakes his head. “I wasn’t.” The smile on his face is permanent. “I swear to God I was gonna tell ya, but it all happened so fast. Plus,” he says, nudging me in the arm, “I’m sure Lennon told you everything.” Huh? “Lennon?” My eyes move from Ricky’s bright-ass smile to Mikey’s grin. “What does Lennon have to do with all this?” I look around to find boxes strewn about and tools and equipment lying all over the floor. It’s obvious he still has a lot of work to do. “She didn’t tell you?” Ricky asks, his smile finally faltering. “Shit,” he hisses. “Maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell you either.” “Tell me what?” I ask, growing frustrated. Ricky looks to Mikey for guidance, but Mikey throws his hands up. “Just tell him, man.” “She’s gonna fucking kill me, isn’t she?” “Probably not,” Mikey says. “She’s already invested this much. If you’re dead, you’re no good to her.” Ricky glares at Mikey and then turns to me. “Remember that night I saw you at The Loading Dock?” “Yes.” “Well, I ran into Lennon outside of the bathrooms, and she asked me about Dad’s old shop. She said she wanted to see some of my designs, so we exchanged emails, and I sent her some photos.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I shake my head. “And…” He shrugs. “And the rest is history.” “What am I missing?” Ricky holds up his finger. “Hold on. I have something you have to see.” He disappears into the back of the building, and I turn to Mikey. “Why in the world would she invest in a motorcycle shop? She knows nothing about motorcycles. And no offense to Ricky, but she doesn’t even know him.” Mikey claps a hand on my shoulder. “Because of you, Noah. She did this for you. She trusts you. Lennon is an investor. That’s what rich people do. You talked Ricky up, and she believed you and trusted you, so she went with it.” “She told you all that?” “Nah.” Mikey shakes his head. “But she told Charlotte.” My jaw nearly hits the fucking floor, but Ricky returns before I can ask anything else. “Here.” Ricky jogs toward me. “Check this out.” He hands me a piece of paper with a computerized drawing of the custom bike I’ve discussed with him. “What is this?” “That’s your bike.” Ricky shoots Mikey a look. “Is he for real?” “Be patient,” Mikey says, laughing. “He’s processing a lot right now, and I’m guessing any minute he’s gonna lose his shit.” “I’m right here, assholes,” I growl. “And I know it’s the fucking bike I want, but what is this?” I wave the paper in front of Ricky’s face.

“It’s not the bike you want,” he says, grabbing the picture out of my hand. “It’s the bike you’re going to get. It’s already in production. It’ll probably take me about six months or so, but you’ll have it by next summer.” I’m at a complete loss for words. “I…I can’t afford this right now. You should’ve talked to me first, Ricky.” He shrugs. “It’s already paid for.” Blood starts roaring through my ears. “What do you mean, it’s already paid for?” “Lennon paid me for it. She’s—well, you—are the first client of Custom Cycles. And she didn’t hold back, brother. You’ll have the best of the best.” A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I reach for the closest thing to hold on to, which happens to be Mikey. I can’t believe this. “Why would she do this?” I don’t even realize I’ve spoken the words aloud until Mikey answers. “Because she loves you.” My head snaps up. “Don’t look so surprised,” he says, laughing. “Why didn’t she back out after we broke up?” I ask, my world spinning faster and faster. “Wait. You guys broke up?” Ricky asks. Mikey waves him off. “They’re just taking a break. Noah here is about two seconds from realizing he made a huge fucking mistake, at which time the break will end and the prince and princess will live happily ever after.” “You watch too many Disney movies with Nova,” I mumble. “Your fault, dude. You made a such a cute freaking kid. I can’t tell her no. Now, what about Lennon?” “I can’t do this, Mike. All of this is great. The shop and the bike—which I can’t accept—but it doesn’t change anything.” “It could change everything.” “You believe her?” I ask hesitantly, because I already know the answer. “I do, because I know her.” “She was arrested for drugs, Mikey.” I shake my head, still in disbelief over that one. “How can I believe her when she says they weren’t hers? That’s just what Kim used to say to me. How do I put someone like that in my daughter’s life?” Mikey looks at me in utter disbelief. “When are you going to stop making excuses and realize that Lennon isn’t Kim? Son of a bitch, Noah, I’ve never known you to be such a prick.” “This is my life, Mikey,” I yell, jabbing a finger into my chest. “This is my daughter’s life.” “Yes.” He nods. “I get that. So do the both of you a favor and pull your head out of your goddamn ass and bring that woman home.” I run my fingers through my hair as prickles of regret stab through my chest. Suddenly I realize I can’t hide anymore—and that’s what I’ve been doing. Hiding. All this with Ricky and the bike confirms what I should already know—what I should never have doubted. The Lennon I got to know is the real Lennon. She’s kind and good, and she came to Heaven doing her best to move past a difficult situation. In the midst of everything else, I lost sight of what I already knew. I look at the clock. Nova should be home any minute. Suddenly I’m even more anxious to see the dress Lennon made for Nova. “What if I—” “No what-ifs, man. You can’t do that to yourself, and you can’t do that to her. You have a decision to make. You either believe the girl, in which case you need to apologize your ass off for being such a fucking dick, or you don’t believe her, and you let her go for good.”

I swallow hard. She’s a part of me. Why has it taken me this long to accept that? “I need to get home.” Mikey smiles. “By all means.” He motions toward the door. “Let’s get you home.”



When we walk through the front door, Nova is sitting on the couch, staring at the box on the coffee table. “She’s been waiting for you to get home,” Mom says. “Is this for me, Dad?” Nova asks, fingering the bow on top. I smile, and it isn’t the dead, lifeless smile I’ve been faking for the last three weeks. It’s genuine and filled with so much hope that I’m afraid I might burst. “It is.” She looks up, her eyes wide with excitement. “Is it from Lennon?” I sit down next to her on the couch and hand her the box. “I guess you’ll have to open it and find out.” That’s all Nova needs to hear. A second later she’s got the bow ripped off and she’s tearing furiously at the paper. She pulls off the top of the box and begins to squeal. “It’s my dress!” she yells, sending tissue paper flying across the room. “It’s so pretty. Look at it. And shoes! She got me matching shoes!” Nova strips out of her clothes in the middle of the living room, shimmies into the dress, and slips on the shoes. “Do I look like a princess?” She goes up on her tiptoes and twirls, the silky material flaring out around her in waves. “The most beautiful princess,” I say. “So pretty,” my mother adds. Mikey holds out his hand. “Can I have this dance, Princess Nova?” Giggling, Nova slips her hand into Mikey’s. He twirls her around the room, the rhinestones on her dress sparkling with each dip and turn. Laughing along with Nova and Mikey, I scoop up the wrapping paper. Wadding it up in a ball, I throw it in the box and notice a small white envelope. I grab it from the bottom of the box and pull the letter out. My dearest Nova, You finally got your dress! I hope it’s everything you wanted it to be and more. Every single second I spent making it, I was picturing you spinning around the room with your prince. I want you to think of me every time you put it on and know that I’m always thinking about you. Always. I love you, sweet princess, more than you’ll ever know. XO, Lennon Squeezing my eyes shut, I hold the letter to my chest, hating myself for not giving the dress to Nova sooner. I take a deep breath, building up enough courage to read the letter again, and I do, twice more—

absorbing her words this time, letting them penetrate the walls of my heart. Sadness and regret take root deep in my bones as I remember the look on Lennon’s face when I walked away—when I refused to believe her. It’s the look that’s haunted my dreams ever since. The room around me grows silent, but all I can do is think about the letter in my hands and the girl in my heart and how shitty I feel. I need to make this right. “Mikey.” I look up and everyone is staring at me. Mikey and Nova have stopped dancing to look at me curiously. “Everything okay?” he asks. “I need to see Lennon. Think you can help me with that?” A slow grin spreads across his face. “I can’t, but I know someone who can. You’re going to need a ton of pink Starbursts.” Pink Starbursts? “Go,” my mom says, pulling Nova from Mikey’s arms. We rush from the house and stop by three different gas stations on our way to Tease. Each time, Mikey sends me in to raid their candy section while he talks on his phone. As he drives through town, I open every package of Starbursts we’ve purchased, pulling out the pink ones. We walk into Tease. People are milling about, with several other stylists working on customers’ hair, but Charlotte is sitting at the front desk, sipping on a soda as though she was waiting for us. “Took you long enough, Cunningham,” she says, eyeing the bag in my hand. “I’m guessing you’ve pulled your head from your ass and now you need to find Lennon.” “Mikey seems to think you can help me.” Charlotte purses her lips, watching me as though she’s trying to decide if she wants to help or kick me out. “I made a huge mistake, Charlotte—biggest mistake of my life. I didn’t believe Lennon, and I should have, and I need to get to her. Can you help me?” A smile breaks over her stoic face. “She told you about her charity, right? Children Everywhere?” I nod. “Yes…” “This weekend is the Children Everywhere ball.” Shit, we talked about going to that together once. “And I have two tickets,” Charlotte adds. In one motion, I step up to Charlotte’s desk and drop more than fifty pink Starbursts in front of her. Her eyes grow wide. “I would’ve given them to you regardless,” she says, picking up a pink square. “But this is appreciated.” I shoot Mikey a glare, but he just shrugs. “Give me the damn tickets.” Charlotte pops a Starburst in her mouth, reaches into the front drawer of her desk, and slaps the tickets into my hand. “Fuck this up, and I’ll fuck you up.”



I smooth my hands down the front of my dress and take a deep breath. This is it. I’ve worked endlessly over the years to get Children Everywhere off of the ground, and tonight is a reminder of how much good we can do. I’ve needed to keep busy, so I’ve spent the last weeks working on designs, sending them off to some of my contacts in the fashion industry, and I’ve finalized every last detail for tonight. I can’t wait to see how everything turns out. I’ll admit that this event came at the perfect time. Going around the city with Jane, my assistant, to pick out centerpieces and tablecloths and sample the food choices has kept me occupied. When I’m knees deep in details and seating charts, I’m able to stop thinking about Noah. It’s been in the evenings, when I draw a warm, hot bath and try to relax, that he invades every last spot in my head. But I’ve thought about it a lot over the last few days, and I’ve come to realize Noah was right. Regardless of whether he believes me about the drugs or not, I’m not a good fit for him and Nova’s life. There’s a soft knock on the door, and Brenna peeks her head around. “Can I come in?” I see her reflection through the mirror. She looks as gorgeous as ever in her black, floor-length, strapless gown, but there’s something off about her, something in her eyes. “Are you okay?” I ask. “Well, that depends. Are we okay?” Dropping my blush in my makeup bag, I fold my arms over my chest and turn toward her. “You want the truth?” She blinks twice. “Of course. You’ve been home for three weeks, and you’ve barely said two words to me.” “You hurt me, Brenna.” It was Brenna who suggested to my dad that I get out of town, and when my dad gets an idea in his head, he doesn’t let it go. It’s not lost on me that had I not gone to Heaven, I wouldn’t have met Noah, but I’m still pissed at her. “You took it upon yourself to tell my father what’s best for me,” I say. “I’m a grown woman, fully capable of making my own mistakes, cleaning them up, and deciding how to live with myself. I don’t need you—or anyone else for that matter—making decisions about my life for me.” That’s exactly what Noah did. He took my choice away. He decided what was best for both of us when he chose not to believe me. But maybe that’s what I needed from him. Being back in New York, working on the charity auction, and fielding calls from my parents and Mathis and the press has made me realize that no matter what my heart wants, my life is too messy for Nova and Noah. “I know—”

“We were friends first, and I realize it’s your job to look out for my dad when it comes to his reputation and the media, but I am not included in that package.” “Leni—” “So next time you get some crazy idea in your head that involves me, just forget about it. I allowed my father to dictate how to handle the media this last time, but I assure you he will not dictate how I handle things moving forward, and if you don’t like that then…then…suck it!” Fists planted on her hips, Brenna cocks a brow. “Are you done?” I nod. “I think so.” “Good. Because I came to tell you I’m sorry, and you’re right.” “Of course I’m—wait, what?” Brenna sighs, her arms falling limply at her sides. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have interfered. I love working for your dad. It’s my dream job, but you and I are friends, and I need to do better at separating the two.” “Right.” I nod. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” She grins. “Am I forgiven?” I can forgive her—that part is easy. But I can’t forget the way she treated me. “Of course I forgive you,” I say, pulling her in for a hug. “Don’t mess up my hair,” she says. “Took a team of people to make me look this good.” “Oh, shut up.” I roll my eyes. “You crawl out of bed looking gorgeous. Me, on the other hand, I could use your team. Where are they?” I ask jokingly. “You don’t need a team,” she whispers, tugging at a strand of my hair. “You’re beautiful the way you are.” “Thank you.” I turn toward the mirror, taking one last look at myself. I decided against my usual team for this event, because the big fancy coiffure and airbrushed makeup just isn’t me. Instead, I did it myself. Beachy waves on my shoulder-length hair, enough makeup to disguise the pale look of my skin—a stark reminder of my lack of sleep—a hint of mascara, and voila. I’m good to go. Minus the heartbreak I’m always trying to hide. I would give anything to have Noah here with me tonight, but I know that’s not going to happen, and it’s for the best. “I love that dress. Is it a Barrick-St. James original?” Looking down, I smooth my hands over the pale yellow chiffon. It has a simple plunging V neck with a wide empire waist and a slit straight up the front, stopping midthigh. The slit was for Noah, so he could slide his hand up my leg under the table as I desperately tried not to scream in front of a dozen or so charity donors. And then later, after Nova was asleep, I’d have him pin me against the window of our hotel suite and make slow, sweet love to me. And I wouldn’t care at all that anyone on the streets below could see, because I would only be able to concentrate on one thing: Noah’s mouth as it— No. I can’t keep torturing myself like this. I thought every day it would get easier, that I’d eventually stop thinking about him every single second, but I was wrong. If anything, it’s gotten harder. Noah is the first thing I think about when I get up, and I fall asleep every night with visions of him in my head. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll never meet another man like him, and at this rate, I’ll still be pining for him when I’m old and gray. It took me two fucking weeks to fall in love with him. Why can’t it take just that long to fall out of love with him? But none of that matters. My feelings don’t matter because I want what’s best for Noah and Nova, and that’s clearly not me. My life will probably only get crazier once my dad and Mr. Morgan win the election. I’ve done a good job at staying out of the media, until recently of course, but it’s going to become

increasingly more difficult. My past would be thrown in Noah’s face over and over again, and that’s not fair to him. “Lennon.” Brenna touches my flushed skin, and I shake my head. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Just spaced out there for a second. What was your question?” “I asked if you made your dress.” I scoff. “Of course I did.” “It’s a beautiful color.” I smile to myself, picturing Nova in her yellow dress as she twirls around her house…that is if she even got the dress. The look on Noah’s face that day was anything but happy, and as much as I hate to believe he would keep it from her, I just can’t be certain. And if that isn’t a punch to the gut, I don’t know what is. Tears burn my nostrils, and I break eye contact with Brenna to keep myself from crying. Lowering my head, I remind myself what tonight is all about. I’ve worked damn hard to make Children Everywhere a success, and it deserves my undivided attention. I need to hold my shit together, make it through the night. “Want to talk about it?” Brenna asks. “Not really, no.” I sniff. Brenna snags a Kleenex off the sink and hands it to me. “He’s very handsome,” she says, garnering my full attention. “And his daughter is beautiful. I can see why you would be drawn to them.” Bringing the Kleenex to my face, I blow my nose and the stare at Brenna. “Let me guess, my mom told you about him?” She shakes her head. “Mathis?” Solemnly, she shakes her head again, and this time she pulls out her cell. “Have you been paying attention to the news at all?” she asks, flipping through something on her phone. “Forgive me if I shy away. The media hasn’t exactly been my friend lately.” “Well, they haven’t exactly been Noah’s friend either,” she says, offering me her phone. On the screen is a picture of Noah getting into his car, followed by several more pictures of him. I scroll down. There are photos of him walking in and out of work and others of him with Mikey, but it’s the picture of him holding Nova, shielding her from the cameras, that causes dread to settle low in my gut. “What is this?” I cry, shoving the phone back at her. “Are they harassing him and Nova? Why didn’t someone tell me this sooner? He must think I’m a bitch for not doing something about it.” Brenna blocks my path when I go to step around her. “First,” she says, “you can’t control where the paparazzi go. Second, Noah has handled himself surprisingly well. Lastly, I’ve already taken care of it.” “What do you mean, you took care of it?” “It looks like a lot of pictures, but it’s really not. It was mostly just local media trying to get info on you, which he hasn’t given, in case you were wondering. Noah has been tight-lipped about everything. I made a few calls, and let’s just say things have died down.” Okay, that was vague. “What do you mean, they’ve died down? What did you do?” “Leni, in case you forgot, your father is a very powerful man. Don’t worry about what I did.” Brenna stuffs her phone in her clutch and leans over the sink, checking her reflection in the mirror. When she stands up she asks, “Can I be honest with you for a second?” “I expect nothing less.” Her face softens, and she smiles. Grabbing my hand, she leads me out of the bathroom and guides me to the edge of my bed. “It’s probably for the best,” she says, sitting down next to me. “What is?” “What happened with you and Noah. I’m sure the breakup has been hard on you, but it’s for the best.”

I don’t know why this is any of her business. But as I stare at her quizzically, she continues. “You and Noah live two incredibly different lives. Your father is likely going to move into the White House, and your mother lives in a house that’s bigger than the White House.” “You think I don’t know that?” I scoff. “You think I don’t realize that all of this—my life—would inevitably be difficult for Noah and Nova?” Brenna looks at me, head cocked to the side, lips pressed together as though she doesn’t know what to say. “This is my life, Brenna. I’ve been the one to live it, not you. I’m well aware that I’m a Barrick-St. James, and the media will follow me wherever I go. I know my name guarantees that I’ll never be rid of them.” And what kind of life is that for a kid? I remember how hard it was growing up in that world, how hard it was to fly under the radar. I don’t want that for Nova. Especially with her mother’s past. The image of Noah shielding Nova from the cameras rolls through my head. I don’t want that for him, or her. That’s the kind of life I was running from, but it doesn’t seem to matter how far or fast I run; that’s the life I was born in to and the life I seem destined to have. As much as I hate the thought of Noah and Nova moving on, having a life without me, it’s a thought I need to get to used to. Clearing my throat, I meet Brenna’s gaze. “I’m not going to have this conversation with you. I appreciate you helping Noah out with the media, but moving forward, I want you to butt out. No more running interference. I’m done.” “Leni.” Brenna places a hand on my arm, but I shrug her off and stand. “Can you give me a minute?” I step back to the mirror, grab my earrings from the dresser, and put them on. “I need to finish getting myself together for tonight.” Brenna walks toward the door and looks back at me. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, Brenna. Really. Now, if you don’t mind.” The look on her face tells me she doesn’t want to leave, but when I raise my eyebrows, she steps out the door, shutting it softly behind her. I look up at the light, trying desperately to keep my tears in because I need to hold myself together. I have a speech to give and people to interact with, and they deserve my very best. I take several deep breaths and eventually regain my composure. Then I find my phone and shoot Charlotte a quick text. Me: I love you, Char. You’re my best friend. Her response is instant. Charlotte: You better not be crying. Charlotte: And the feeling is mutual. I’m sad she couldn’t make it tonight, but I understand. The flight here was way too expensive, and her stubborn ass refused to let me pay for it. Me: Is it bad that I already wish tonight was over and it hasn’t even started? Charlotte: I have a feeling tonight is going to be epic ; ) Me: You’ve been eating too many pink Starbursts again. Charlotte: *gasp* NEVER! Me: Goodnight Charlotte: Call me first thing in the morning and tell me all about it! Me: Will do. Tucking my phone in my bag, I give myself one last onceover in the mirror. With a Kleenex, I lightly dab my eyes, searching the dredges of my soul for any remaining strength. I smile and straighten my spine. I might not look like I’m falling apart on the outside, but inside I know Noah is gone from my life forever, and that makes even the good things I have left seem hollow.



“Wow,” I say, smiling at the sea of faces. “We’ve got a beautiful crowd of people with us tonight. I want to start by thanking each one of you for coming out to support Children Everywhere. It warms my heart to know you love this organization as much as I do. You’ve opened your hearts and your wallets, and I’m proud to announce that we’ve blown last year’s donations out of the water.” The crowd erupts in applause, and I smile back at them. “Every penny raised here tonight will go directly toward assisting young men and women. Your kindness doesn’t go unappreciated, and you should rest easy knowing that your donations will help fund much-needed education. They will give our at-risk youth a chance to thrive. Tonight, because of you, we’ve raised over two million dollars!” The crowd erupts again, and everyone jumps to their feet. I step away from the podium to applaud them, because I’m not the one who did all of this. Sure, I put it together, but if it weren’t for their giving spirit, none of this would be possible. “Thank you,” I say, stepping back up to the podium. “Thank you for coming out and for all of your generosity. The band will be here for the next hour, so please, dance and enjoy the rest of your evening.” I step off the stage and make my way through the room, personally thanking some of our biggest sponsors and supporters. As the crowd dissipates, I move toward the bar. I’ve played hostess for four hours. My feet are killing me, and I’m in desperate need of a glass of wine. I’m standing at the bar, talking to the bartender about what a great turnout we had, when my mother steps up beside me. “Mathis called me,” she announces. When the bartender hands me my glass, I finish off most of its contents in one gulp. There isn’t enough alcohol in the world to prepare me for this conversation. “Did he now?” I ask, turning toward her. My father appears behind her, placing a hand on her hip. “Leni. Amazing event tonight,” he tells me, his eyes scanning the room, no doubt looking for the quickest exit. He balked at coming, said it would be a pain in the ass with all of the security he’d have to bring. “I certainly can’t complain,” I respond, returning my glass to the bartender for a refill. “I’m sure you could’ve managed to find one more seat,” my mother says haughtily. Taking my glass and stepping away from the bar, I drop my voice, ensuring that my words are delivered to no one other than my parents. “Mathis Perry will never be invited again. He will never be a part of my life again. Remember that.” “You say that now, but—”

“No, Mother,” I growl. She casts a glance to the left, and I quickly look around to make sure no one heard me. There aren’t a ton of people still here, but I don’t want to take any chances. “Whatever it is you’re about to say, forget it,” I whisper. “I will not take him back. I won’t even be cordial when I see him. He’s nothing to me.” Her eyes grow wide, shooting daggers. “You will be cordial to him—” “Why should I?” I hiss. “What has he done to earn my respect?” My father seems completely oblivious to our argument, his attention drawn to something else in the room. “Why should you? How about because his father has been a huge source of support for your father’s campaign,” she sneers, shaking her head. “If he pulls his contribution, your father and Joseph could lose the election. Is that what you want?” she asks. Oh my God. My stomach rolls. I knew my mother was self-centered, looking out for what’s best for her and my father, but I didn’t think she’d stoop to this level. “Is that why you want us back together so bad? Because you’re afraid Joseph won’t pay for Daddy’s precious campaign?” Wrinkling my nose, I shake my head. “I can’t believe you. You care about some stupid election more than your own daughter.” “Keep your voice down,” she admonishes. “You’re being dramatic.” “I am not being dramatic,” I hiss, so frustrated I don’t give a damn who hears me. This is my event anyway. “I’m pissed. You don’t give a damn about what I want and what’s right for me. You’re all about the money and the social status, and that’s not who I am.” “It is who you are—” “You don’t know who I am.” Desperate for a breath of fresh air, I hike up my skirt and weave through the ballroom. I don’t stop until I’m in the courtyard, at which time I double over and suck in a deep breath. How could my mother be so heartless? Who am I kidding? I knew she was like that; she’s proven it time after time. But I can’t help it. She’s my mother, and I wanted to believe that somewhere in that cold heart of hers was a place for me. It’s obvious now that I was wrong. She’s never going to change, and I can’t be a part of this family— of this life—anymore. This life isn’t for me. And my parents, even Brenna—they’ll never be the family I need them to be. I stand up straight, resolve settling deep in my bones. I went to Heaven to try to find myself, to prove that I could be who I want to be, and I’ve done that. If I’m being honest, I did it even before I went to Heaven. I’ve created a thriving charity, and I’ve built up a portfolio of dresses that people are showing quite a bit of interest in. And I’ve done it on my own, mostly from the comfort of my living room, whether that living room was in New York or Texas. So where does that leave me now? One thing I know for certain, I don’t want it to leave me here. I don’t want New York to be my home. Getting my own space, away from my parents and so-called friends is imperative to my well being. Just because I can’t have a life with Noah and Nova doesn’t mean I can’t make my life what I want it to be. I’m through with letting others control me. I can do this. I take a deep breath and smile, happy to have a plan. I’ll take my time, find somewhere that’ll suit me. Somewhere like Heaven. I close my eyes at the thought of Heaven, wondering what Noah and Nova are doing right this second. She’s probably having a tea party, and he’s— “Lennon.” Oh great, now I’m hearing Noah’s voice. Am I truly, finally losing it? Pressing my hands to my ears, I rub, trying to drown out the sound, but then a large, warm hand lands on my back, shooting a spark straight up my spine.

I know that hand. That touch. Noah. I turn around and come face to face with him. His dark hair is an utter mess, and I wonder how many times he’s run his hands through it. He’s wearing a tuxedo and a nervous smile. His gaze drifts up and down my body appreciatively before finding my eyes, but when he does, what I see there causes hope to spark in my chest, which I quickly push away because I’ve already accepted that we can’t be together. I won’t be my mother. I will put Nova and Noah first. I’ll just use this chance to have the closure I need. It’s possible that’s why he’s here anyway. For closure. Truly, why is he here? He’s wanted nothing to do with me. There’s something different about him tonight, and I’m not talking about the exquisite cut of his tux— which looks damn good on him—I’m talking about the look in his eyes. “Are you okay?” his smooth voice rolls over me, wrapping me in its warm southern drawl and waking up parts of my body and soul I thought were lost forever. For the first time since coming back to New York, I feel like I’m actually home. “What are you doing here?” I ask. Noah looks around at the lush courtyard outside of the ballroom, and my eyes follow his. There’s a fountain the size of a small house in the middle, and it’s surrounded by rows upon rows of lush bushes and brightly colored flowers, all separated by stone walking paths. The beauty of the garden is something out of a magazine, and one of the main reasons I chose this particular venue for the ball. “I’m actually lost,” he says, turning back toward me. “I don’t mean here in the courtyard,” I say, reaching out to touch his cheek, needing to feel him one last time and assure myself that I’m not dreaming. “What are you doing in New York?” Unable to help myself, I run his hair through my fingers. I jerk my hand back, only to have Noah catch it on the way down. “Keep touching me,” he whispers, cupping my hand in his. He tugs me closer, his scent—clean and woodsy—washing over me. It’s intoxicating, and oh, how I’ve missed it. “I’ve missed you so much, Lennon. I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I’m sorry for not coming after you sooner, and I’m even more sorry for not believing you.” This can’t be real. Noah and I broke up. He didn’t believe me. He’s in Heaven, and I’m in New York, I remind myself. This has to be a mistake. I’m dreaming, or maybe someone spiked my drink. Yes, that must be it, and now I’m hallucinating. I look down, and there are his big, callused hands wrapped snugly around mine. Emotion creeps up my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push his face from my head and pull my hands from his grip, and it works. The warm touch of his hands is gone, leaving mine cold, but suddenly that warm touch is on my face. Then his soft lips find mine, and my eyes fly open because this is real. Noah’s brown eyes stare down at me with so much love and affection, and more than a little determination—it’s an image I’ll remember as long as I live. “I understand what you were trying to tell me. I believe you. If I’m not too late, I’d like to hear your side of the story,” he says, slowly lowering his hands. “All of it.” This is what I had been hoping for, the chance to explain everything with his trust in me allowing him to believe it. But now that I seem to have that, I’m not sure what to do with it. Suddenly all my plans are unclear. Will this change anything? Swallowing, I decide just to take it from the beginning. “Mathis and I had been apart for nearly a year when he called me one night. He was drunk, trying to apologize for cheating on me, and threatening to kill himself. He said he missed me and he couldn’t live without me.”

I shake my head, remembering my panic. “I didn’t really think he’d kill himself, but it wasn’t something I could take a chance with. Foolishly, I went to him, found him at a club with our friends, and stayed by his side all night, trying to talk him down. It was pointless, because he wasn’t himself. He was in a very altered state. On our way out of the club, it was all I could do to keep him upright, and a few feet from the car, he went down and took me with him. “Of course the paparazzi were there to capture every glorious moment, including the part where my skirt flew up around my face. As you’ve seen, pictures from that night were splattered across the internet in a matter of hours. It was the single most embarrassing moment of my life, and I had no idea it was about to get worse.” I pause, wondering if any of this matters. “Please, keep going,” Noah says, his face calm, his eyes warm. Reliving this is the last thing I want to do, but I will, for him. “The next day, Mathis apologized. He swore he’d just been drunk and would never really hurt himself. He begged me to forgive him. I wasn’t in love with him anymore—probably never had been—so I reminded him that we couldn’t get back together, but I forgave him, thinking it would be good closure for us both. “So when he made a similar call to me a few nights later, once again threatening to kill himself, I got pissed. Now I could see he was doing it to jerk me around, playing with my emotions. So I hunted him down, and I screamed and yelled at him, and he screamed and yelled back. At one point he got mad, threw me up against a wall, and then instantly backed down, pleading with me to forgive him. “I just wanted to be done, Noah. Done with Mathis. Done with the games. Done with that part of my life. I knew we had to sit down and have a serious talk so I could get through to him, so we agreed to go back to my parents’. Only we didn’t even make it three blocks down the road. I was driving us, and we got pulled over. The cops found cocaine and heroin in Mathis’s car.” Blood rushes in my ears as I remember how pissed I was. “I didn’t even know he was using, and when the police confronted him, he lied and told them the drugs were mine. Long story short, we were both arrested. He came clean a few days later, and the charges against me were dropped. But by then the damage was done. The story was already everywhere. The media and paparazzi were relentless. Pictures from those nights haunted me, and they haunted my father, putting a strain on the campaign. My father forced me to take a drug test, which of course came back clean because I’ve never touched drugs in my life, and Mathis’s father forced him into rehab. He finally admitted he’d started using not long after we broke up. “For weeks I was followed every single day. And my father couldn’t leave his house without being bombarded by cameramen just waiting to assault him with questions about me, and that’s when he and his assistant got the bright idea that I needed to get away—away from the city and the media and Mathis. “I was frustrated and angry at the whole situation, but determined to make the best of it, and then I met you,” I say, looking Noah in the eye. “I met you and realized none of that stuff mattered. Mathis didn’t matter. The lies and articles, none of it mattered.” Noah brings his hands back to my face. “I need you to forgive me, Lennon.” “I understand why this was hard for you to hear and process, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should’ve said something when you told me about Kim, but I was scared to lose you. I should be the one asking you for forgiveness. I would give anything to rewind time and tell you sooner. I’m so sorry, Noah. I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that.” With my face cradled in his hands, Noah shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize, Lennon. I should’ve believed you. I should’ve trusted what I already knew about you, not what I saw on the internet.” “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I understand why you didn’t.” He hugs me for a moment and then says, “You invested in Ricky, Lennon. Why did you do that?”

My eyes widen. Of course Noah found out about that. “Because you believe in him, and I believe in you, and it seemed like a good investment.” “And you made my daughter a dress. Why?” “Because I love her.” I smile, picturing her in it. Noah gives me chagrined look. “I didn’t give Nova the dress right away.” “Oh, no?” I ask. “And that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done,” he adds in a rush. “She loves the dress, Lennon. She loves you.” God, that hurts, knowing I won’t get to see her in it. “I’m glad she likes it.” “I don’t want to talk about Nova. I want to talk about you and us and how sorry I am. Finding your letter to Nova and finding out what you’ve done for Ricky reminded me of who you are, reminded me of all the reasons I fell in love with you. They—okay, and Mikey—gave me the motivation I needed to get off of my ass and re-evaluate everything you’d told me, as well as my life.” He just told me he’s in love with me, and I desperately want to hear him say it again, but I won’t ask. I don’t know what to think or what to do right now. Finally I say, “And what did you find out after you sorted through everything?” “That my life is better with you in it. Nova’s life is better with you in it. You bring a peace that I didn’t know was missing. You fill a void I didn’t know was empty, and I was a fool to push you away.” “How did you find me?” “It wasn’t hard.” Noah grins that panty-dropping grin, and I instinctively push myself closer to him. “I spent nearly fifty bucks on Starbursts, but once I handed over all the pink ones, Charlotte gave up her tickets for tonight.” My heart constricts. “Did you come by yourself? Is Nova here?” I ask, looking around. “No. Mikey came with me. He’s here somewhere. Probably at the bar.” We both laugh, and then Noah’s face grows somber. “About that apology I owe you…” I squeeze Noah’s hands, using them for leverage to keep me upright, because these are the words I’ve been waiting for, the words I’ve needed to hear. “It was wrong of me to believe the media over you. I was shocked and hurt, and I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. For a second, it was Kim all over again, and all I could think about was Nova and how I didn’t want to put her through that, but I wasn’t fair to you. I lost sight of us there for a minute, but I’m done screwing up.” I give him a look, and he shrugs. “Okay, I’m sure I’ll still screw up. But I promise I’ll never second-guess you again. I’ll never walk away without truly hearing your side, and I swear to God, if you let me, I’ll love you, Lennon, with every fiber of my being, every second of every day for the rest of my life.” “Noah—” “Lennon?” Jane, my assistant at Children Everywhere, pops her head out the door. “Almost everyone is gone, but Trevor Fallon has been looking for you. He wants to have a few words with you before he leaves.” I nod. “Thank you, Jane. I’ll be right there.” I wait for her to duck back inside before looking at Noah. “I’m sorry, but I need to go talk to him.” “Don’t apologize,” he says. “This is your event. Do what you need to do. I’ll wait.” I smile, still unsure what all of this means. He flew across the country to see me, to apologize and hear what I had to say. Maybe I should reevaluate my previous thoughts and plan. If we’re both in this for the long haul, ready and willing to work

through whatever life throws our way, maybe there’s hope for us after all. But first, Mr. Fallon. With a hand pressed to the small of my back, Noah leads me into the hall where Trevor is waiting. “I’ll be over here,” he whispers, kissing my cheek. I watch him walk across the floor and take a seat at the near-empty bar next to Mikey. Mikey glances over his shoulder once Noah is seated and catches my eye. He waves, and I wave back before turning toward Trevor. “Thank you so much for coming tonight, Trevor,” I say, leaning in for a hug. He kisses my left cheek and then my right. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. This is quite the organization you’ve got going.” “Thank you. It means so much to me.” “It shows. But I wasn’t exactly wanting to talk to you about the charity.” I tilt my head to the side and smile. “What can I help you with?” “Your designs. They’re beautiful. Perfect, really. And just what my line needs.” Pride and excitement and a million other emotions fill me up, along with a giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I want to jump up and down, throw my hands in the air, and give myself a high five, but I don’t. Instead, I clasp my fingers together in front of my body. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. I put just as much love into my designs as I do this charity. They’re my passions.” “You’re special, Lennon. There’s just something about you that people love. Whenever you get some time, I’d like for us to sit and down and see if we can work out a contract. I want you on my team.” “I’m flattered, Trevor. And it would be a honor to work with you, but I have to be honest. I don’t plan on staying in New York.” I look around the room at the chandeliers, the crystal glasses scattered on the tables, and the few remaining people dressed in designer gowns and suits, and I know my decision to leave is the right one. “I want to get away from the city; I want to be somewhere quiet.” Somewhere like Heaven. Trevor smiles warmly. “I don’t care where you are, Lennon. That’s details. I just need you.” Perfect answer. “I’d like that.” “Great.” Reaching for my hand, Trevor kisses my knuckles. “We’ll keep in touch. Get settled wherever you’re going to be, and then reach out. You’ve got an amazing career ahead of you, Lennon, and I want to be part of it.” Pressing my lips together, I nod, desperately trying to keep my excitement bottled up until Trevor is out of the room. Once he’s gone, I do a little happy dance right there in the ballroom. “I love seeing you smile like that,” Noah whispers from behind me. I whirl around and throw myself at him. He wraps me in his arms, pulling me close as I squeal in delight. “That was Trevor Fallon,” I squeal. His smile is bright, but he shakes his head. “Who is Trevor Fallon?” “He’s with one of the top fashion houses in New York. And he wants to work with me. He loves my designs.” I laugh, hugging him tight again. “I can’t believe this.” “Congratulations—” His words are cut off by the band announcing their final song of the evening. They begin playing a slow rendition of Christina Perri’s “Arms.” “Dance with me.” Noah laces his fingers through mine, and I let him lead me to the middle of the dance floor. Lowering his mouth to my ear, Noah whispers, “Everyone’s staring. Do I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe?” He laughs, and tears well up in my eyes. My heart is so full. Full of love, but also spinning because I

still don’t know exactly what to do about him and Nova. “No.” I run my fingers through his hair, lacing them together at the back of his head. “They’re staring at you because you’re incredibly handsome, and they’re all wondering how I got so lucky.” I wrap my arms around Noah’s neck, holding on for dear life because I can’t quite convince myself that keeping him is the right thing to do. My mother’s face keeps swimming before my eyes. I breathe him in, enjoying the feel of his hands pressed to my lower back and the steady beat of his heart against my chest. What I wouldn’t give to bottle this moment up and pull it out later, when I’m lonely and missing him. If only Nova were here, the night would be perfect. But it’s a good thing she’s not, because when the song ends, I stop swaying and slowly step back. Wrapping his hand in mine, I lead Noah off of the dance floor and back outside to the courtyard. Once we’re alone, and out of earshot, I look up at him. “I love you so much.” Noah opens his mouth, probably to repeat those three little words, but I can’t bear to hear them, not when I’m still so unsure about our future. I know I love him, but I’m still not convinced I can put all my baggage on him. I press a finger to his lips. “Just let me get this out, okay?” His eyes cloud, but he nods. Removing my finger, I place my hand over his heart. “You taught me more about love than anyone else in my life, and I’ll cherish that forever. You were my first true love, Noah Cunningham, and you’ll be my last, because I know I’ll never feel for another man what I feel for you,” I vow, my voice shaky. “Lennon—” “But I don’t know if we can be together.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, unable to suppress my tears. The look on Noah’s face tears me apart, but I won’t let that stop me. “This is my life, Noah,” I say holding my hands out. “I’m leaving New York; I can’t stay here. But it doesn’t matter where I go, or what I do—I can’t change where I came from or who I am. And when my father and Mr. Morgan get elected, things will only get worse. There will be paparazzi and cameras and reporters. I can’t bring that craziness into your life…into Nova’s life.” Noah’s eyes grow wide, his grip on me tightening. My chin trembles, and I swipe a finger under my eyes. “She deserves so much more than that. You both do.” My voice cracks, but I keep going. “My past will be shoved into our faces. They’ll undoubtedly compare me to Kim, and what is that going to do to Nova? She’ll end up hating me, and I won’t be able to live with myself.” Noah grips my hands. “She could never hate you. She loves you. We both love you.” His words are quick, and his desperation slices through my chest. “This is nothing. We can handle this. Our relationship is so much stronger than you’re giving it credit for.” I shake my head and Noah quickly grabs it, stopping me. “Yes, it is. It’s so strong. I know I didn’t give you that impression, because I was stupid, but you have to believe me. You have to believe in us. We can make this work.” My body sags, along with my heart and my soul. “I can’t ask that of you,” I whisper, removing his hands from my face. “I’m doing what’s best for you and Nova.” “No,” he shouts. “You leaving will never be what’s best for my family. You are what’s best for us.” He pulls me in close, fear in his eyes. “Let them throw it in our face, let them dig up dirt and write story after story. I don’t give a damn. Honestly, I don’t think it’ll come to that. But if it does, we’ll face it together because we’re stronger together.” I have to look away as tears roll down my face. “You say that now—” “I’ll say it always,” he interjects, tilting my face up. “We’re good together, Lennon. You’re it for me. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t care about your name or your past; I care about you.

“I’m sorry, Lennon. I hate myself for letting you walk away. I hate that I wasn’t strong enough to believe you right away, but I can’t take that back. We can’t rewind time, but I promise I’ll never doubt you again. Please don’t doubt yourself. Don’t doubt us.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Please don’t apologize.” “Do you believe me?” he whispers, cupping my face in his hands. I nod, shakily. “Open your eyes and look at me,” he pleads. I open my eyes and see all of the love I’m feeling shining back at me. “I believe you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. God, Noah, I can’t apologize for that enough.” “No more, baby.” He kisses me softly—once, twice, and then a third time. “No more apologies. I just need you. You’re the missing piece in my and Nova’s life, and I won’t replace you.” With Noah standing in front of me, professing his love and promising to stand by me, all of the reasons I had for staying away from him seem to fade. Because I feel the same way. Noah and Nova are the missing pieces in my life. “Lennon.” I blink, focusing on Noah’s voice and his strong body pressed against mine. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” “I’m thinking I don’t want Nova to grow up the way I did—hiding behind every corner, spending her days in a stuffy house to avoid the cameras when she should be out having fun, being a kid. I don’t want her to have to deal with the media and accusations and rumors—” As the words come out of my mouth, I finally allow myself to believe Noah and I can make this work. “But I won’t let that happen, because I’m not my parents,” I finish. “I’ll protect her and shield her and teach her better than my parents ever did. They’ve shown me what not to do.” Relief passes over Noah’s face, and his brown eyes go liquid. He pulls my mouth to his, but this time it isn’t sweet or innocent. His tongue plunges deep, battling my own. Claiming me. Claiming us. Breathless, I look at Noah. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re sure you want to put up with everything I could bring?” “I’ve never been more sure of anything. I love you, Lennon.” My body relaxes with relief against his. “I love you too. So much.” “Does this mean you’re coming home with me? Because that’s where you belong.” “I love the sound of that. And yes, I’ll come home with you. But I can’t leave right now.” His smile fades. “What do you mean?” “I need to stay here to clean up and finalize distribution of all the donations.” The thought of him getting on a plane and going to Texas without me is devastating. “When does your flight leave? Can you stay with me tonight?” I ask. Noah shakes his head. “I can’t. I have to get back, and Mikey already booked our flights.” I pout, and he chuckles. “Stay. Finish up whatever it is you need to finish, and then come home to me.” His voice drops seductively low. “But don’t take too long, because I can’t wait to get you naked.” His eyes rake up and down my body. “Make sure you bring that dress with you too. It’s fucking sexy, and all I can think about is stripping you out of it.” Oh God, I want that too. So bad. If there weren’t people out there counting on me, I’d be tempted to let him take me right here. “I’ll bring the dress.” “And the heels,” he adds, kissing his way down my neck. “I want them digging into my back when I fuck you.”

I nod. “Definitely the heels.” His warm lips trail over my collarbone. My nipples are peaked, pressing against the soft material of my dress, and I cry out when Noah slips a hand through the front slit of my skirt to finger the edge of my thong. “Next time, no underwear,” he whispers, claiming my mouth once more. Someone clears their throat, startling me, and I pull away. “Noah, dude, what are you guys doing out here?” Mikey asks. “I hope you’re not fucking her because that’s—you know what? Never mind. I hope you are fucking her, because that’s hot.” “We’re not fucking,” I say, flatly. “Too bad.” He looks at me, no doubt taking in my flushed cheeks and puffy lips. “Quit staring at my fucking girl,” Noah says, thumping Mikey in the arm. “I refuse to apologize. She looks hot in that dress.” Noah shoves Mikey toward the door. He steps inside and the door slams shut, silencing his laugh. “Where were we?” I slide my arms up his chest, fisting his coat in my hands. “You were just about to give me a kiss goodbye.” Noah crinkles his nose. “I don’t like that word very much.” “I don’t either. Good thing it’s not really goodbye.” “No?” I shake my head. “No. I’m going to finish up here, tie up a few loose ends, and I’ll be back in Heaven before you know it.” Noah’s answer is to kiss me, and I’m not going to complain because I’ve missed his lips. I’ve missed his whole damn body, and I’m going to work like crazy to get home as soon as I can. “I’ll call you when my flight lands,” he says. “I’ll be waiting.” Noah opens the door to find Mikey still standing there smiling. “Are we all happy now? Are Mom and Dad back together again? No more fighting?” Noah and I look at each other and laugh. He leads me down the hall, and we say goodbye one last time by the front entrance. I watch him slide into a taxi, and when I can no longer see the taillights, I rush down the hall and kick my butt into high gear, because I need to be where my heart is. And my heart is on its way back to Heaven.



I’m fucking exhausted. Mikey and I didn’t step off of the plane until one o’clock this morning, and then we had an hour-long drive home from the airport. I talked to Lennon on the phone for another hour before crawling into bed, and after that I fell into a peaceful sleep. I don’t think I’ve slept that well since before Lennon left. My heart is at peace because she’s coming home. I’m exhausted and could easily use another ten hours of sleep, but knowing that Lennon and I pushed our way through the storm and have come out on the other side has supplied me with enough momentum to get through my day. I yawn and roll the windows down to keep myself awake as I drive home after work. I want nothing more than to take a long hot shower before I go pick up Nova. Yawning again, I pull into my driveway and slam on the brakes at the sight of Lennon sitting on my front porch swing. Her hair is blowing in the wind, along with the skirt of her dress, and she’s wearing the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen. Throwing the car in park, I step out and shut the door. Lennon stands, a clear plastic container in her hands. Tucking my hands in my pockets, I lean a hip against my Chevelle, soaking in the sight of Lennon in a pink gauzy dress. It’ll look damn good on my bedroom floor. “Took ya long enough to get here,” I say. Tilting her head, Lennon smiles. “I’m pretty sure the three Red Bulls I drank are the only thing keeping me upright. But I’m here.” She holds up the Tupperware. “And I brought you some muffins; thought you might be hungry.” My eyes rake over her—the soft curve of her hip, her long, toned legs. It’s going to be fun exploring her delectable body, reacquainting myself with every inch. In fact, why wait? Pulling my hands from my pockets, I move toward her. “I don’t like muffins.” “No? I can make you something else. Pancakes, maybe?” She gives me a playful look. “I don’t like pancakes.” I move swiftly toward her, and my cock twitches when I see her rub her thighs together. “Cinnamon rolls?” she asks. I shake my head. “Nah. Too sweet.” Lennon’s tongue darts out, wetting her lips. “Bacon?” “I’m not in the mood for bacon.” In two long strides, I’m on the porch. I take the box from her hand and toss it aside. “What are you hungry for?” she asks, looking up as I press my body against hers. I wrap my arms around her waist, savoring the way she melts into me. “You, Lennon. I’m hungry for you.” Angling my head, I slam my lips against hers, and our mouths mold together in a timeless dance. My

heart swells with more love than I thought it capable of, and when it’s about to burst, I pull back. Lennon is panting, her bright blue eyes shining up at me. I see the love in her, and I know…I just know that this is it. She is it. We’ve both had to push past our fears and give love a second chance, but once I discovered the truth about Lennon, I knew I couldn’t have it any other way. “I love you, Lennon.” She grins. “Not nearly as much as I love you.”

“Are we going to stand here all day?” Nova asks, tugging on my hand. “No, just a few more seconds,” I answer, staring at the sign hanging above my boutique. My boutique: Lennon’s Threads It’s nestled on the corner of Main Street, two doors down from Charlotte’s shop. Shortly after moving in with Noah, I started looking for a building, and when this little beauty popped up, I snagged it. It’s been months, and I still stare up at the sign in awe every time I walk through the door. A lot has changed since I moved to Heaven. My father and Mr. Morgan won the election. The media has died down, choosing to focus on my father rather than me, which I’m thankful for. I get the occasional phone call asking for an interview about Children Everywhere, which I’m still managing, with help from Jane. Mathis finally gave up on trying to win me back, and I heard from my mother that he was spotted at the country club with Lizzie. Speaking of my mother, she’s come around…about as much as I think she ever will. We talk from time to time. Our relationship will never be great, but it’s a start in the right direction. “Come on,” Nova urges, giving my hand another tug. “I want to try that dress on.” I blink, pulling myself out of my head. “It isn’t your dress. You do know that, right?” She rolls her eyes, something she’s getting good at. Who knew kids did that at such a young age? Nova tugs me inside and runs straight for the dress, which is hanging on the children’s rack at the back of the store. It’s cream-colored lace with a pink sash, and it also happens to be a custom-made flower girl dress. I’ve been lucky. In addition to the contract work I get from several high-end boutiques in New York and L.A., and my work for Trevor Fallon, I’ve had a steady stream of local projects since the day I opened. I use the room in the back to sew and sketch, and the front of the store holds the dresses I’m working on, as well as the ones I have for sale. “Be careful, Nova. I’m not finished with that yet; I don’t want you to bust a seam.” “I won’t,” she hollers from one of the dressing rooms. I’ve used Nova as a mannequin a few times with this particular dress, and she’s taken a liking to it. Who knows, maybe one of these days I’ll get to make her a similar dress for my own wedding. The thought brings a smile to my face. “You look happy.” Two strong arms wrap around me from behind, and I whip around, smacking Noah in the chest. “What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?” “I wasn’t sneaking. The bell above the door rang when I came in. You were just in La-La Land.” I can’t deny that. La-La Land is a place I find myself in a lot now that I’ve moved in with Noah and

Nova. I’m constantly dreaming about getting married and growing our family. Noah and I talk about it all time, and I’m getting antsy. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” I ask. “I should, but I brought you a surprise.” Noah turns around, and I gasp when I see him reach for a small black box on my front desk. Heart in my throat, I wait as he brings it to me. Slowly, he opens the box, revealing… “A cupcake?” It’s a mini cupcake from the bakery next door, Sweetie Pies. “Yes, it’s your favorite.” His smile falters. “That is your favorite flavor, right? Double chocolate fudge?” “Of course it is.” Swiping my finger over the icing, I scoop it into my mouth. “This would taste better if I could eat it off you,” I whisper before kissing him gently. Noah groans. Pressing a hand to my lower back, he pulls me against him, pushing his erection against my belly, making sure I understand just how much he likes that idea. I set the cupcake on a side table and lace my arms around his neck. “Daddy, look!” Nova bursts out of the dressing room. Noah and I break apart as she spins around. “Isn’t it pretty?” “It’s beautiful.” He drops to a knee in front of her, and I smile, watching them talk. “Almost as beautiful as the girl wearing it.” Nova beams back at him. “It’s a flower girl dress!” “It is?” She nods, winking awkwardly at Noah, and it’s cute as hell. “I want one just like this.” “You do?” he asks, reaching in his pocket. “Well, I think we can make that happen. But first…” Pulling another small black box out of his pocket, still on one knee, Noah turns to me. Nova giggles, jumping up and down, and it takes me a couple of seconds to realize what’s happening. “Oh my gosh,” I gasp, covering my face with my hands. “Lennon.” Noah tugs my arm, pulling my hand from my face. “We’ve got something to ask you.” Overwhelmed with emotion and desperately trying to keep myself composed, I smile. “Will you marry us?” Nova blurts. “Yes!” I drop to my knees in front of them, pulling them both into my arms. I kiss Nova first, whispering, “You little sneak.” She giggles and runs off, leaving me alone with Noah. “Now it’s my turn.” Noah pulls the ring from the box and slips it on my finger. “Lennon Barrick-St. James, will you marry me?” “Yes.” Cupping his face in my hands, I drop my forehead to his. “Yes. A million times yes.” “It’s about time we make it official,” he says with a laugh. “You’ve been my fiancée a long time, remember?” My smile grows wider, remembering the lie that—along with my car—brought me into Noah’s life, permanently, it turns out. “Lennon Cunningham,” Noah whispers, kissing me softly. “I like the sound of that.” THE END

First and foremost, I have to thank my husband, Tom. The endless amount of support and encouragement you give me while writing is truly amazing. Thank you for making sure the house stayed clean, the laundry got done, and the kids were fed. Thank you for taking over nighttime duty so that I could stay up late and write. Your love and support is what gets me through the day and I’m so incredibly thankful for you. Keshia Langston. ‘Thank you’ seems so insignificant. We spent endless nights working through this plot. You encouraged me, supported me, and laughed with me. Your kind words, and friendship has been the highlight of many of my days. Thank you for always being there, no matter the question or concern. You mean so much to me and I love you <3 You’re my bae ;) Kristen Proby. Somehow we managed to find each other in the chaotic Facebook world, and I am so happy we did. We literally spend every single day together, and it’s because of those sprints that I was able to finish this book. You kept motivated, and going. Beyond the writing, you’re also my friend, and I cherish you so very much. We can talk and laugh about anything and everything and friendships like that don’t come around very often. Jessica Royer Ocken, my amazing editor. Thank you for being patient with me, and for taking my often scrambled prose and transforming it into something beautiful. Your opinion means the world to me, and I am so grateful that you edited this book. You’re stuck with me forever. A big huge thank you to Sara Eirew for creating such a beautiful cover. You know my vision better than I do. Stacey Ryan Blake, aka the best damn formatter in the world, thank you for making the inside of my books look beautiful. And, thank you for putting up with all of my last minutes changes. You’re amazing and you’re never getting rid of me ;) Last and certainly not least, thank you to every single one of my readers and all of the bloggers. Thank you for taking the time to read my books and share them. Thank you for begging for Lennon’s story. I hope you swooned over Noah just as much as I did. Your support means so much to me and without you and I wouldn’t be doing what I love.

K.L. Grayson resides in a small town outside of St. Louis, MO. She is entertained daily by her extraordinary husband, who will forever inspire every good quality she writes in a man. Her entire life rests in the palms of six dirty little hands, and when the day is over and those pint-sized cherubs have been washed and tucked into bed, you can find her typing away furiously on her computer. She has a love for alpha-males, brownies, reading, tattoos, sunglasses, and happy endings…and not particularly in that order. Follow KL Grayson here Facebook Twitter Goodreads Instagram Spotify You can also find her at www.KLGrayson.com KL Grayson Newsletter Sign up



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