“OK,” I said, “so what are our options?” I set the plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies down on the coffee table, next to our bowl of popcorn, still steaming hot and coated in butter.

Carly held the TV remote in both hands and directed at the sixty-five-inch on the wall, flicking through the kids section on Netflix. “Captain Underpants, or Star Wars Clone Wars, or this one Boss Baby movie.”

“Which do you think is the best?”

“I like Captain Underpants,” Carly replied, scrunching up her nose as she smiled. “He’s funny.” She tucked her PJ-enshrouded legs beneath her little body and reached for a cookie.

“And your dad would be OK with you watching Captain Underpants?”

“Yeah, he said I can watch anything I want as long as it’s in the Kids part of Netflix. Do you want to watch Captain Underpants?”

“Sure,” I replied and sat down next to her. Truth was, I couldn’t have cared less what we watched. I wasn’t much of a TV person. I was into reading and the odd documentary. Beverly claimed I was a grandma trapped in a young woman’s body. But that had only been because she’d found a packet of Splenda in my tote bag, once. Or maybe it was because I liked working with kids, and I told really boring stories?

“Today was the best day,” Carly said, as Captain Underpants started. “I love baking cookies. And dinner was yummy too.”

“I didn’t know kids liked broccoli,” I replied. “You shocked me.”

“Broccoli is yummy.”

Maybe it’d helped that I’d cooked a creamy cheese sauce with it. Then again, it had been pretty easy to find something nice to cook in a house like this. The pantry was stocked, the fridge practically overflowing, and there were recipe books galore. Dinner had been a treat to make, and Carly had been a sweetheart all day.

We’d had a minor issue earlier on in the day, but a time-out and a talk had resolved it relatively quickly. Bryan had me thinking I’d have a few tantrums to deal with, but Carly was, for the most part, pretty chilled.

She giggled hysterically at the Underpants antics on the screen, and snuggled closer to me, resting her head on my arm.

Was she always this trusting? I hoped not. But it was a good sign, too, that she was willing to make strong emotional attachments with parental figures. OK, switch off the analytical brain for a second and enjoy the show.

Except switching it off meant thinking about Bryan instead, and that was a recipe for disaster. Not creamy broccoli bake.

A door slammed at the front of the house, and I jerked upright, my heart beating a mile a minute.

“What’s wrong?” Carly asked.

“Nothing, honey. I think I just heard the front door. I’ll be right back, OK?”

“OK,” she said, and settled back, totally unconcerned.

God, I hoped it was the front door. What if it was something else? What if—? What if what? What if nothing. Don’t bring your paranoia here. This house is safe. It has an alarm system.

Regardless, I rose from the comfy leather sofa and walked out of the massive living room and into the entryway.

The door was closed, and Bryan stood in front of it, holding his phone in his hand.

Relief crept through me but was swiftly replaced by tension. My muscles tightened up, my shoulders lifted. He was home, and he looked just as good as when he’d left. I took advantage of this moment—he hadn’t seen me yet—to admire him.

Tall, big, blond, and with those strong hands holding a briefcase in one and the phone in the other. He tapped the toe of his boot on the tiles and muttered under his breath. Finally, he lifted his gaze and caught mine.

“Riley,” he said, and it came out hitched.

“Bryan,” I replied. “You’re here early. I mean, I was under the impression that you’d be working late tonight?”

“No, not tonight.” He put his phone down on the entrance hall table, then lifted a finger, crooking it in my direction. “Talk to you for a second?”

It was as if that finger had tugged on a cord attached to my midriff. I moved toward him, hating myself for that reaction to his presence. I cleared my throat. “Is everything OK?” I asked. He was technically my boss, now, even if it weirded me out to the core.

We’d slept together, chatted every day for more than six months, and now there was this distance between us. Self-imposed and totally necessary, but it was still odd.

“Talk to me in here,” he said and walked into the kitchen.

I followed him into it and stood at the kitchen island, placing my palms on the marble top. He walked around to the other side of it and stood ramrod straight, staring at me. “Everything go well today?” he asked.

“Yeah, it was a pretty good day. Carly and I had fun.” I smiled at the memory of it. “And don’t worry, I didn’t feed her anything unhealthy for dinner. We had chicken and broccoli bake. But she is having some popcorn and cookies now while we watch TV. Hope that’s OK?”

“That’s fine,” he said then paced a step to one side, halted, paced a step to the other side.

“Are you OK?” I asked. “You seem tense.”

He waved away the question, halted again, and glared at me. “You’re sure everything was fine.”

“Yes.” And a smidge of anger bit at the back of my throat. Seriously, he was doubting me, now? Why, because of the conversations we’d had? Did he think I was, what, not fit to look after his daughter because of the mistake we’d made yesterday?

Bryan scratched under his beard and walked to the fridge. He opened it, reached inside and brought out a bottle of water. “Want one?”

“No, thank you.”

He unscrewed the cap, glugged some of the water back, then closed the bottle again and set it down on a countertop. “There were no interruptions today?” he asked. “No one came around here? No visitors?”

“No,” I replied. “Why? Look, you’re acting really strange. Is there something I need to know? Something you’re not telling me?”

“No. There’s nothing you need to know.” Finally, Bryan’s shoulders dropped, and he relaxed slightly.

That didn’t help me, though. I stiffened in response to his relief. He was seriously worried about something, and that gave me the creeps. What if it was—?

“Daddy!” Carly rushed into the kitchen and around to him. He bent, his stern expression crumbling into a smile, and lifted her into the air. He spun her around once, then hugged her tight. “Why didn’t you come say hello?”

“I was just about to,” Bryan replied, and pinched her nose. “I was just chatting with Riley about your day. Did you enjoy it?”

“It was the best!” Carly laid a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. “We baked cookies. And we had broccoli in our dinner, and it was yummy.”

“That’s great, sugarplum.” He hugged her tight. “What are you up to now?”

“We’re watching a movie and having cookies, and then I’m going to bathe and read The Princess in Black. I can’t wait.”

Bryan set his daughter down, smiling, now, and it was easy, genuine. Made my heart beat faster. “That’s awesome. Look, honey, I’ve still got a few things to straighten out with Riley. I’ll come through and watch some TV with you in a second, OK?”

“OK,” she said then hurried out of the kitchen. Carly did everything at full speed whether it was baking or watching TV. She was out and in the living room in record time.

I sniffed. “What do you need to straighten out with me?” I asked.

“Your sleeping arrangements,” he said, and his gaze dragged over my body, from the top of my head to my chest, where it lingered for a moment, then lower, to my waist, my stomach, my—“I know you weren’t prepared to stay here tonight, but I’d prefer it if you did.”

“Why?” I asked, hiding my hands behind my back and gripping one of my thumbs in my palm, placing pressure on it. The teensy bit of pain helped keep myself present, rather than obsessing over what he looked like naked, or when he came.

Need for him simmered behind my eyes, overpowering my concern about the questions he’d asked.

“Because I want you here,” Bryan said.

I swallowed, audibly.

“For Carly. I might have to leave early tomorrow morning,” he said. “I know we still have to discuss compensation for you, and hourly fee, but I’ll pay you more on top of your base rate if you’ll stay here nights.”

If it was what Carly needed, then I was happy to help. But the way he spoke was… it was too heated. As if there was more to it, something behind what he’d said. “I can stay for Carly,” I said. “That’s fine by me.”

“Good,” Bryan said, “that’s good.” He circled the kitchen island and came closer to me, the scent of his spicy cologne washing over my skin.

I squeezed my thumb harder. “All right. I might have to head out tonight, though, just to get my things from Bev’s place.”

“I can help you with that. Give me her address and I’ll have someone fetch them for you. Sound good to you?” he asked, halting too close to me. Another inch and we’d be on top of each other.

I held my breath to keep from inhaling him and losing my grip on my resolve.

“Yeah, that’s good.” I let the breath go again. “Thank you.”

“I’m here to make you comfortable,” he said, and his voice hitched, slightly. The warmth of a smile spread across his lips. “Glad we got that all sorted out. The address?”

“Sure. Yeah.” Christ, he was so intense. I scribbled down Bev’s address and handed it to me, then watched him make the call. He walked across the kitchen floor, a pace that was leisurely, but still… he was so tense. And so broad-shouldered.

He hung up and smiled at me. “All sorted out. If you’ll ask your friend to pack you an overnight bag?” He drew closer again. Heat spread through my limbs.

“Will do. Thanks –”

“Daddy! Riley!” Carly yelled from the living room. “Come look at this! Come see.”

The tension snapped between us, like an elastic band pulled too tight. “We’ll discuss this later,” Bryan said then brushed past me, leaving a wake of his heat, of his smell, and of my need. He was out of the kitchen and heading across the entry hall before I could blink.

I swayed on the spot and braced myself on the counter.

God, help me get through this night.