Peyton was nearly to the bakery when her phone dinged with a text message. She swiped her thumb over the screen. It was a photo of Scott’s abs. The first even semi-dirty text Scott had ever sent her. She smiled in spite of the fact that Scott was now trying to seduce her, and she was never going to survive.

This normal-relationship-versus-seduction thing was confusing. The normal stuff seemed sexy, the sexy stuff seemed normal—or at least really natural—and she wasn’t sure which side she was on. Or he was on.

She was a little early to be getting to work, thanks to rushing out of his house after “helping” him shower, so she headed in the direction of the gazebo at the center of the town square. She took a few shots of the notes and drawings from the kids in Sapphire Falls that decorated the white wooden structure that many called the heart of the town. They were all get-well wishes for Scott. She sent them to him with a simple “aww, how sweet”.

There. Little kid artwork. That had to be the opposite of sexy.

Peyton started for the bakery again, still smiling in spite of herself. She took a deep, contented breath at the sound of the little bell tinkling overhead as she pulled the door to Scott’s Sweets open and stepped inside. Her eyes immediately went to the bakery case full of new, brightly frosted sugar cookies.

The plate of six she’d taken to Scott but hadn’t really taken to Scott was still on the seat of her truck. Because the question remained—did she want to keep him? Or more accurately, should she keep him?

She’d decided somewhere between brushing her teeth last night and mixing pancake batter that morning, that she was going to at least meet him partway while they were playing house. He wanted more than sex. She could give him more. Or try.

She just did not want to be her mother. Scott was already Dan, more or less, so Peyton had to put some effort into being better, being a more equal partner than Jo had ever been, even if it was for only two weeks and was more of a flirtatious game between her and Scott than an honest-to-goodness commitment. She might not want to turn into her mother, but she still got itchy at the “C” word. Still, she could do better than naughty nurse costumes and going sans underwear around the house.

Like pancakes. And nice texts. And not getting him off in the shower…

“Morning!”

Peyton jerked her thoughts away from Scott’s bathroom and back to the bakery. Where she was just standing and staring at the cookies she’d made last night. She looked up at Adrianne and pasted on a smile. “Hi.”

“I see you were busy last night,” Adrianne said, gesturing toward the bakery case.

“Yeah, I came in to get prepped for today and then had some time on my hands,” Peyton said, moving around the front counter toward the back room.

“Well, they look amazing and the place smells divine,” Adrianne said. “Thank you.”

Peyton’s smile was completely genuine as she took in the details of her boss’s appearance. Adrianne’s long blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and tendrils were already escaping the elastic band. She had on light blue capris and a white T-shirt, but the shirt had a purple smudge on the hem that looked like a fingerprint made of grape jelly. The brown streak across the top of her right sandal was definitely dirt and she was wearing only one earring.

“You okay?” Peyton asked.

Adrianne nodded. “Sure.”

“You, um, lost an earring.”

Adrianne’s hand flew up to her ear, then she laughed. “No. I just didn’t put it in. I was in the middle of getting ready when Carver and Jefferson suddenly shouted “Eureka!”

Peyton grimaced then grinned. Carver and Jefferson, Adrianne and Mason’s sons, had inherited their father’s penchant for science and nearly uncontainable curiosity for how things worked and for actions and reactions. They were constantly mixing things together, taking things apart, putting things in the microwave, and throwing things out of windows to see what would happen. Even at their young ages. And, of course, there were the many living things they brought into the house. Peyton figured Adrianne had a lot of years of yelling things like “no, your brother can’t fly!” and “whose three-headed-grasshopper is this?” and keeping a fire extinguisher very close by.

“Eureka is code for ‘something bad just happened’?” Peyton asked.

Adrianne laughed, but her love for her boys was clear in her smile. “Or something bad is about to happen.”

“Mason is out of town?”

“D.C. until Thursday,” Adrianne confirmed. “The boys are over at Phoebe’s now. They’re playing with Kaelyn and Joe this morning,” Adrianne said of her best friend’s daughter and husband.

“You know those boys are going to turn sweet little Kaelyn into a hellion,” Peyton teased.

Adrianne snorted at that. “Sure. She’ll be the one getting funding for them for all their crazy inventions.”

Peyton loved that. It was true that Kaelyn was already showing all the signs of being the social, know-everyone-and-charm-them-into-doing-anything-you-want-them-to-do girl that her mother was.

Peyton’s phone dinged with another text just then, and she smiled even before seeing that it was from Scott.

My house smells like you. Cinnamon and sugar. I’ll never be able to eat another Snickerdoodle without getting hard.

She laughed lightly. That was sexy, but also funny and sweet. Dang, the guy was good. She walked to the bakery case and snapped a photo of one of the cinnamon rolls on the top rack. She sent it back to him with imagine the fun we could have with some cream cheese frosting.

She sent it and then froze. She swore under her breath. Crap, that was sexy and flirtatious. That wasn’t normal and sweet.

She was going to have to focus.

“Everything okay?”

Peyton lifted her eyes to Adrianne again. And she’d forgotten her boss was standing right there. She could have sworn she felt her cheeks heating, even though she never blushed. Or almost never, anyway. “Yeah, everything is great,” she said with a smile. And it was. It was confusing and she wasn’t very good at not seducing Scott, evidently, but things were good anyway. “Sorry, Scott’s just…hungry.” Okay, her cheeks definitely heated at that.

Adrianne nodded. “That’s right. I heard you were helping him out. How’s he feeling?”

Sexy. Charming. Full of it.

Which were some of her favorite things.

“Good,” she finally said. “Better overall. But still hurting some.” She frowned as she thought about that. He had been shot only two days ago. He should be focusing on getting better, not getting her into bed.

“Well, take him anything he wants from here,” Adrianne said.

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Of course. I’m going to get started on the truffles.”

“Sounds good. I’ll head to the back,” Peyton told her.

Adrianne grabbed an apron from the hooks by the swinging door to the back room. She would work at the table behind the front counter and wait on customers for the morning. Peyton would be in back, mixing dough, baking and decorating until lunchtime.

Peyton grabbed an apron too, and was just tying it behind her back when her phone dinged again. She smiled automatically, anticipating Scott’s reply to her frosting comment.

But the message wasn’t from Scott. It was from Dan.

Your mom is going into rehab. I’m dropping her off on a Wednesday. Thought maybe we could have dinner Thursday night.

Peyton felt all of her euphoria dissolve instantly.

Jo was going to rehab. Again.

Peyton scrubbed a hand over her forehead. She did not want to have dinner with her father. That probably made her a bad person, but dammit. The only reason he wanted to see her was because he couldn’t be alone. She never got dinner invitations when Jo was home.

She typed in a quick response—can’t do dinner, but maybe lunch.

She couldn’t just leave Scott on his own and have dinner with her dad. She had promised to be there to help Scott while he was healing. Yeah. That was why she couldn’t have dinner with Dan. Definitely. So what if Scott was getting around fine on his own and had a ton of friends and a mother who could help him out with meals if needed? Peyton had promised to be there and she would be, dammit.

And so what if it was a great excuse to avoid eating with Dan?

An hour later, she was still wound up about it. A mixture of guilt and frustration twisted through her. In spite of the brightly colored cookies she was decorating. And that pissed her off too. Decorating always calmed her down and made her happy.

Of course, maybe if she wasn’t decorating, she’d be throwing things or swearing instead of just thumping mixing bowls and measuring cups down on the counter harder than necessary. Thankfully she was using the plastic ones.

“Everything okay?”

She looked up and felt herself blush as she found Adrianne standing in the doorway that led into the kitchen from the front of the bakery.

“Sorry. Just…grumpy.”

Adrianne joined Peyton at the prep table and looked over the flower- and butterfly-shaped cookies that were cooling on the racks, waiting for frosting. “These are for Emma’s garden club?” she asked.

Peyton nodded. “I have honeybees and ladybugs too,” she said. “She wanted simple sugar cookies to go with the tea and coffee, but I showed her the decorated ladybugs and she loved them. I also talked her into doing dirt cups—chocolate pudding with crushed chocolate cookies on top and gummy worms.”

Adrianne grinned. “That’s awesome. What can I do to help?”

Peyton laughed and felt some of her frustration melt away. “You’re the boss. You do whatever you want.”

Adrianne shook her head. “This is your party. Just tell me what you need.”

It was her party? Not really. It was Emma’s. But the ideas to make it special and something Emma would love had been Peyton’s. She had to admit that made her feel good. “Well, how about frosting butterflies? We need lots of yellow. It’s Emma’s favorite color.”

Adrianne gave her a smile. “Wonderful.”

They worked for almost five minutes without talking, applying different colored frostings and designs to the butterflies. But eventually Adrianne asked, “What happened?”

Peyton sighed. “To make me grumpy?” she asked.

“No offense,” Adrianne said. “But I know you’re staying with Scott. Sometimes suddenly being with someone almost twenty-four-seven is tough. And it’s my experience that men who are not feeling well, or who are being told not to do things they want to do, can be especially difficult.”

Peyton laughed at that, feeling something warm unfurl in her chest. Adrianne was talking to her woman to woman about men trouble. She almost wished Scott was her problem, so she could commiserate. Obviously, she was around Adrianne a lot and she was fascinated by Adrianne’s relationship with her husband, Mason. Mason was a genius. Literally. Which made him different from the other guys in Sapphire Falls. In a really great way. But no, Peyton’s issues were with another man entirely.

“It’s my dad,” she confessed. “Or my mom, actually.”

Adrianne gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry to assume it was Scott.”

Peyton waved that off. “He hasn’t been exactly easy, but…” She trailed off as she thought about Scott and how it had been to be essentially living with him. “Actually, he’s been very…great,” she finally said. It was hard to come up with the right word. It hadn’t been easy, but it hadn’t been a hardship either. It had been tempting. That part had been hard. But that part had also been fun. And frustrating. And yeah, actually, kind of great.

“So what’s up with your dad?”

Peyton had never shied away from talking about her parents. Everyone knew everything anyway. Dan and Jo’s relationship, Jo’s illness, how Peyton figured in—or didn’t—had been well-known facts in Sapphire Falls long before Peyton was old enough to tell, or keep, secrets. That was, strangely, something she’d always been kind of grateful for. She wasn’t the type to hide her feelings. When Peyton was happy, people knew it. When she was pissed off, they knew it. She was terrible at poker.

“He just texted to say that Mom is going to rehab. Again. And he wants to have dinner while she’s gone.”

“That’s great, right?” Adrianne asked.

Peyton wished it was great. She wished she could summon even a fraction of the hope and happiness she’d felt the first time Jo had decided to go to rehab.

But this was the fourth time. And all together, her stays equaled about fourteen days.

“Well, he only wants to see me because he doesn’t have anything else to do while she’s gone,” Peyton said.

“How long is rehab?”

“It’s supposed to be thirty days.”

Adrianne didn’t say anything, but she gave Peyton a questioning look.

“Jo’s never stayed thirty days,” Peyton said. “She’s never even stayed seven in a row.” Which was, of course, why it had never worked. Then again, it could have been the fact that Jo didn’t really want it to work. After all, if she was stable and sane, Dan wouldn’t have to be at her beck and call. “She always calls after a few days, tells him she’s miserable, and he goes to get her,” Peyton said. “He can’t handle having her gone, so he never pushes her to stay. Usually she agrees to go after her doctor or therapist really insists, but that motivation only lasts so long. So, anyway, Dan will only invite me for dinner for the first couple of days. Because he knows she won’t be there much longer than that.”

Adrianne just nodded. Everyone knew how this went. Peyton was plan B. Maybe even C. And Dan almost never got beyond plan A. Jo. All the time. He went to work—though he took calls from her at least twice a shift, and he’d had issues with bosses because of it. But otherwise, he only did things that involved his wife.

“But you’ll go,” Adrianne said.

Peyton shrugged. “For lunch. But yeah.”

“I think it’s nice,” Adrianne commented casually as she picked up a spoon and added some blue food coloring to the blue icing she was using, darkening the color.

“What?”

“That you’ll have lunch with him. Even though it’s crap that you only get time with him when your mom’s gone and that it hurts your feelings a little. You’ll still go because you know he needs someone to have lunch with.”

Peyton sighed. “It’s pathetic. But yeah, that’s our routine.”

“It’s not pathetic, Peyton.”

“To let someone treat you like that? To be there even when they don’t really appreciate it and they’re just using you?” she asked, willing herself not to cry as the words made all of the emotions well up suddenly. God, this sounded way too much like her and Scott, and it made her stomach knot. “For him to not realize that he’s doing to me what Jo has always done to him?” she added, her voice quieter.

“What has she done?” Adrianne asked.

“Expected him to be there no matter how she’s treated him, without thinking about how he never says no, without ever once saying ‘I appreciate you’.” She looked up at Adrianne, appalled that she was spilling all of this. But Adrianne Riley was a sweet, accepting, loving woman who saw people. She really saw people. It was what made her perfect for her quirky, genius husband, who had a hard time relating to people sometimes. Or a lot of the time. “That’s the thing,” Peyton said. “Jo says ‘I need you’ or ‘I miss you’ or ‘help me’, but she never says that she appreciates him or loves him. And there’s a difference I think. Between needing someone and loving someone.”

Adrianne seemed to think about that and then she nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“And part of the difference,” Peyton went on, “is that if you love someone, you want to do things for them too.”

Adrianne nodded. “Agreed.”

“And Dan doesn’t appreciate me or love me. He doesn’t reciprocate, not really,” she said, feeling tired suddenly. “But I still show up.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, silently frosting and decorating. Until finally, Adrianne said, “Loving someone when they don’t deserve it, or even want it, is the hardest and best thing there is.”

Peyton looked up. But strangely, it wasn’t Dan and Jo she thought of with Adrianne’s words. It was Scott.

He cared about her. She knew that, deep in her gut, and she hadn’t really deserved it. Or wanted it.

And yet, it was one of the best things in her life.

God, she really was like her mom—she’d been going along just expecting Scott to be there, and she’d never said thank you. Or acknowledged that it meant so much to her.

Well, she was getting better about that. She was learning. Unlike her mom and rehab, Peyton could be made aware of something and actually make a change. She was definitely taking him cookies tonight. No qualms or hesitation.

“Thank you,” she finally said to her boss. “And just so you know—I appreciate you. I love this job.”

Adrianne smiled at her. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. The candy is my thing. You’re the cake and cookie girl.”

Peyton felt warmth swirl through her. She knew, of course, that Adrianne preferred making the truffles and fudge and caramels, but she was glad that Adrianne liked Peyton’s work. Adrianne had always been great about letting Peyton try new recipes and had encouraged her learning and practicing new things with cake decorating. “Actually, I wanted to show you my idea for Hope’s shower cake,” Peyton said.

The whole theme for Hope’s baby shower had come to her one day while she’d been doing a chocolate and banana cupcake.

Five minutes later, Adrianne laughed and shook her head. “Wow. This is amazing. If you want to take on the whole shower, I know Delaney would be all for it.”

It was true that Delaney Bennett, one of Hope’s sisters-in-law, wasn’t the party-planning, foodie type. Delaney built custom cupboards and cabinets. With her own two hands. She wore tool belts, she had calluses, and she made no excuses for barely knowing how to use the measuring cups in her kitchen. She didn’t care.

“Well,” Peyton said, feeling a touch shy. “I don’t want to horn in.”

“Honey, Hope is your sister. If you want to plan her shower, do it. Just let us all know what we owe you and what you need.”

Hope’s friends—Delaney, Adrianne, Phoebe Spencer—and her other sisters-in-law, Lauren and Hailey, were planning the shower. But when Adrianne had asked Peyton to do the cake, she’d been thrilled.

“I’d love to do it,” she finally said.

“Awesome.” Adrianne gave her a quick hug. “I’ll tell the girls.”

Peyton felt herself grinning as she returned to her cookies. In spite of Dan’s text.

She might not own her own business, or get voted favorite teacher every year by her students, or fly to Washington, D.C., to lobby Congress like the other women in Sapphire Falls, but if there was a party going on within twenty miles, she was the go-to girl. And, even if she knew nothing else for certain, she did know that her parties always kicked ass.

* * *

Scott heard Peyton’s truck pull into the driveway and he felt his body tighten.

Just from the sound of her truck.

Damn, he had it bad.

He forced himself to continue stirring the sauce, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. But as Peyton banged into the kitchen, making even coming through a door loud and attention-worthy, he admitted that this was extraordinary. Peyton Wells was coming home. To him.

Okay, maybe it was because she kind of had to. Maybe it was temporary—for now. But it was still something worth noting and appreciating.

He glanced over, playing it cool, to find her standing in the middle of his kitchen staring at him.

“Hey,” he greeted her.

“You’re making spaghetti?”

The scent of garlic and oregano filled the air, and the pan of garlic bread was cooling on the counter next to the stove, where a pot of noodles boiled. It seemed self-explanatory, but Scott nodded. “Yeah. Do you like spaghetti?”

He was stunned to see her eyes fill with tears. She dropped her purse on the floor next to her and crossed the room in three strides. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek into his chest.

Scott hesitated for only a second before folding his arms over her and hugging her close. He just held her for a few seconds, waiting to hear what was going on.

Finally, she pulled back and looked up at him. “You’re fully clothed.”

He was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, but his feet were bare. “Pretty much,” he agreed.

“And you’re cooking.”

“Um, yeah.”

“And you’re not even trying to be sexy, are you?” she asked.

“Well…some things are really hard to help,” he told her with a little grin. “But no, I guess not.”

“And I still want to take all of my clothes off and beg you to do dirty things to me.”

His body hardened almost instantly and he had to clear his throat. “Damn, girl.”

She hugged him again, and then stepped back. “Do you know how long it’s been since I walked in the door after work to dinner already being made? Not to mention a big hot guy doing it?”

His heart softened even as everything south of there stayed hard and on alert. “I’ll do it every night.”

She shook her head. “I’m so confused.”

“About what?”

“I thought when you said you were going to be seducing me, it would include a lot of nakedness and dirty talk. I was prepared for that. But making me spaghetti…I mean, should the smell of oregano make me wet?”

Good God. And the thing was, she wasn’t trying to be sexy right now either. This was Peyton, having a conversation with him and just saying what was on her mind. Without realizing that saying she was wet was making his tongue tingle for a taste that was definitely not oregano.

“I can honestly tell you that if the smell of oregano makes you wet,” he said, noting his voice was definitely huskier now, “then you can expect to come home to a lot of pasta dishes in the future.”

She gave him a smile that made his heart turn over in his chest. “Yeah, I’m definitely confused about the sexy thing and the relationship thing. One minute you’re going for normal and I’m not wearing panties. The next minute, I’m flipping pancakes and you’re jacking off in the shower. And now this. I’m turned on by something totally normal that you weren’t even trying to make sexy. What side are you on, Hansen?”

He knew exactly what she meant. Her texting him the photo of the gazebo that morning had made him want her as much as having her hands on him in the shower had. He gave her a slow grin. “All sides. Every side.”

“I’m in trouble,” she said with a sigh.

He hoped so.

They ate at the table and talked. Peyton told him about Dan’s text and Jo’s planned trip to rehab. Scott told her that he really didn’t want her to have lunch with Dan.

She frowned. “Why not?”

“Because he makes you feel bad,” Scott said, trying not to grit his teeth. He’d had words with Dan in the past, but he’d gladly go over there and tell the man to back off. Of course, Peyton was his daughter and was a grown woman who could make her own decisions. Which was the only thing keeping him from driving to Dan’s right now.

“I feel sorry for him,” she said. “But it’s also all his own fault. So I’m just torn.”

After they were done eating, Peyton joined him at the sink and they rinsed and loaded the dishwasher together. Scott didn’t say anything about it. For one, it was a strange thing to love and to be turned on by. For another, it just didn’t require any talking. She put the last plate in the rack and closed the dishwasher, then turned to him with a sigh. “Well, I guess now you have to watch Grey’s Anatomy with me.”

Scott dried his hands on the dishtowel by the sink and then handed it to her to do the same. “Grey’s Anatomy, huh?”

“Well, you were all sexy with the spaghetti and everything. Now we do something normal.”

“And you watch Grey’s Anatomy?”

“Religiously.”

“Okay,” he agreed, making it sound as if he was very put upon. “But you have to sit with me on the couch.”

“Okay,” she said, “but you have to keep your hands to yourself.”

He grinned. “No can do.”

She sighed, as if she were very put upon. “Fine. But every time you touch me, I’m going to tell you a fact about the show that you don’t care about.”

“Deal.” He didn’t know much about Grey’s, but he did know it had been on for a long time. That meant lots of facts. And that meant he could do a lot of touching.

But two hours later, he was hooked.

On sitting with Peyton, watching TV. On rubbing her feet—and the little sounds she made when he did it. And on freaking Grey’s Anatomy.

After finding out he’d never seen a single episode, she’d insisted they start at episode one, season one. She’d run to her house quickly to get the set of DVDs she owned and they’d settled in. Scott had been all about her purple toenail polish—even after she’d put socks on when he’d commented about how much the polish turned him on—and rubbing her feet, and just feeling her up against him. She sat close, with her legs stretched over his lap, even while maintaining she was on the couch with him only because he insisted. She ran her fingers through the back of his hair almost absentmindedly while she watched TV. And she simply smiled and gave a soft sigh whenever he turned his head and kissed the inside of her elbow, or her neck, or her cheek during commercial breaks.

But he hadn’t pushed for more nakedness or said anything particularly sexy or even touched her anywhere else. For two reasons. One, she seemed completely content and happy, and damned if he was going to do anything to change that. Sex would be good—or fucking amazing—too, but he loved this peacefulness, and once he’d found out that Heather and Tess were the only people who had seen these DVDs with Peyton, he’d decided he was just fine like this, thank you.

Oh, and because he got into the show.

It would never be better than sex with Peyton, but it only took three episodes for him to be fully invested in Meredith and McDreamy and Izzie and everyone else.

But finally, he yawned and had to admit he was fading. It was the fucking pain pills, but he still needed them and he knew his body was still healing.

“Bedtime,” Peyton said, pointing the remote at the TV and stopping the show.

“But—”

“You can watch more tomorrow while I’m at work,” she told him.

Well, he probably wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t that into it. But he really did want to find out what George was thinking. Okay, so maybe he’d watch one episode. Two at the most.

“Fine.”

“Let me help you up.”

“You’re coming to bed too, right?” he asked. She hesitated and he reached for her hand. “Spoon me, Trouble. That’s all I ask.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Well, okay, as long as there’s no forking.”

And even that made him hard. And soft. At the same time. In very different parts of his body.

* * *

She was officially pathetic.

Watching the guy sleep had been a little creepy, but lying awake to listen to him breathe? God, help her.

She should get up. She should go to the Come Again and study.

But she didn’t want to. She wanted to lie here, with Scott’s hand on her boob, and listen to him breathe.

And not doing something she should, so that she could keep doing something easy that just felt good, was exactly what Jo would do. Which was the thought that pushed Peyton up to sitting and then out of the bed entirely.

She’d been listening to him breathe.

Fuck.

She quickly pulled on leggings and a hoodie, slipped on her tennis shoes, and grabbed her computer.

The Come Again. Coffee. People who weren’t Scott. That was what she needed.

And that was what she got until about two a.m., when she slipped back into Scott’s bed.

And listened to him breathe until two-thirty.