Connor watched her with Ivy. They were both so beautiful. The daughter that they’d created, and the woman he’d loved for half of his life. He watched them play in the front yard, watched Ivy scream as Neve tickled her. This was like a dream.

His dream. The dream he never knew he had.

Some men dreamed of fame and power and women. But this, this was his fantasy come to life. Neve, in all her natural beauty, and Ivy, the perfect combination of the two of them. They were all he wanted, all he’d ever wanted. And still, he was haunted. He knew it was too late. He’d never get Neve back. All he could hope for was a relationship with Ivy, his daughter. Their daughter.

As if on cue, Neve saw him standing at the curb. A momentary flash of a smile passed across her face before she quickly changed it into a scowl. It had been quick, but he’d seen it.

Didn’t that prove that her first reaction to him could, one day, be something other than pain? There was still softness in her gaze, she just covered it quickly.

His first feeling when he looked at her had changed too. Now, first and foremost, he felt protective. He’d do anything so that she never had to hurt again, never had to go through the suffering she had endured because of him.

He’d die before he let something happen to her or Ivy. They were his, even if they never really could be.

“Are you going to come into the house?” Ivy asked, pulling on his hand. She was sneaky, this daughter of his. Just like he’d been when he was a kid. Just like Cyrus had been.

“I am indeed, sport. Lead the way,” he offered, sparing a minute to glance over at Neve. Her emerald eyes flickered with awareness, but she didn’t say anything. He held out his hand, unable to stop himself. He’d loved holding her hand. Something about the way his roughened grip was double the size of her own soft hand had always made him feel like he was enveloping her.

She hesitated for a moment and he felt the tug on his other hand as Ivy tried to drag him along, oblivious to the dilemma that was currently waging in her mother. After a few seconds, Neve reached out and grabbed his hand. He felt the shock of it slide up his arm and into his chest. But his fingers instantly grasped hers tightly. His thumb brushed over the back of her hand lightly, and the tingle increased. Her eyes shot up to his and they locked gazes, the moment frozen in time.

Neve’s breath hitched as they seemed to be thrown back in time, the sensations of déjà vu overtaking them in waves. He felt her fingers trembling in his and he squeezed to help her relax. He wanted this night to start off well, not make her feel uncomfortable.

She shook her head slightly, asking, “Where’s Cyrus? I thought you were bringing him?”

“I was. I am. He’s coming a little later, just in time for dinner of course. The kid literally hasn’t stopped eating since I got back.”

Neve laughed, the sound like a tinkle of bells that made him grip her hand even tighter. “I can understand that. I remember what you were like when you were that age.”

He smiled, thinking back. “I could demolish two pizzas and still have room for your mom’s lasagna.”

She laughed again, a natural smile lighting up her face. It made him ache somewhere inside. “And breadsticks.”

He chuckled. “Got that right. At least that hasn’t changed. Got any breadsticks?”

Her laughter lit him up inside, making him feel warm. This, this is what we used to have. Easy banter, gentle touches.

More than anything he wanted to keep this moment going.

“I’d like to say my appetite has dulled with age, but it’s still there – I never seem to be able to get enough.”

She gasped lightly, and he looked back at her, letting go of Ivy’s hand as the child scampered ahead of them into the house.

He looked at her, confused. What had he said? It had been going so well. He’d been talking about food and…ugh.

His mind chastised him. The innuendo suddenly hit him. He’d been talking about insatiable appetites and how it hadn’t dulled with time. He’d truly meant food, but now that he thought about it…to her, it probably seemed to apply to other areas as well.

“Neve, that’s not what I meant,” he said, carefully trying to tread water and back away from the situation without her becoming upset by what she may have perceived to be an advance.

But she surprised him again. Instead of reacting like he’d expected – affronted, angry – she just grinned mischievously.

“So, it has dulled with age, then? That’s a shame. You were always so…ravenous.”

He gulped as he listened to her tinkling laughter as she went into the house ahead of him. He’d been frozen to the spot from shock by her unexpected and funny comment.

Well, damn. She’d beat him at his own game. He was left ogling her denim-clad rear and gaping after her. Had she just…no, she couldn’t have meant that. Had she?

Fascinating and dangerous and so, so damn sexy. She’d be the death of him. He was sure of it.

He followed his two ladies up into the house, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. This was just an innocent dinner, not an invitation to seduce the love of his life. He sighed. He needed to stop thinking of her in that way.

She had been the love of his life. She wasn’t his anymore.