By the time dinner was done and Damon’s family left, it was nearly ten o’clock. I was pooped.

“I’m heading out, so if you need anything, just call me and I can be here in a second. If you want, we can carpool to work.” Damon sounded a little hesitant.

“I drop Bee off at school at seven-thirty.”

“We can both drop her off and then head into the office if you’d like. How far is her school?”

“Across town.” I was transitioning back into bitch mode, but I needed to make sure that he didn’t think that with Bee upstairs we were going to continue where the kiss had left off.

“Well, she only has two more weeks, right?”

“Yep,” I agreed. “But then I’ll have to take her to the community center, they’ll watch her all day while I’m at work.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at work then.” Damon didn’t move, he just stared at me, and I felt the weight of his gaze pressing in on me. He moved closer, but I took a step back.

It was an awkward move, but I needed him to know that this wasn’t happening. I needed to know it, prove to myself that I could handle this. “Good night.”

“Good night, Katy.” He headed for the door then stopped and turned to face me. “If you tell me right now that you don’t feel a single thing for me, that there’s no spark, then I won’t try again and will consider myself lucky to have the world’s best assistant. If you do feel a spark, then just know we can go at any speed that you want, but we are going.” He waited for a few seconds.

His words blanketed all thoughts in my head. I couldn’t have said a word if I’d wanted to, and truthfully, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. I knew I should push him away, that the cons outweighed the pros, and that if this went sideways I would be worse off than before I met him. But a tiny part inside me that I wanted so desperately to ignore was whispering that I needed to trust someone. Have someone that I could talk to that had the vocabulary above a third grader. And damn it all to hell, I missed being held.

* * *

“Morning.” I waved to Jenny as I passed her office, smiled at her quintessential eighties-era suit with the shoulders pads that looked like she was ready to take the field. I wasn’t sure how she moved her neck with those things, but she did and always glanced over to give me a wide smile.

“Morning, George. Morning, Damon.” I moved to my office and set my purse and lunchbox under my desk. My comfort level not just in my position but also with the people had quickly made this my favorite job ever. Jenny had mentioned she’d worked here since Damon was little, and the woman in HR had been here for twenty years. I could totally understand that. I could see myself staying here. Well, provided I didn’t totally fuck it up and start thinking about doing all kinds of sexy things with my boss.

I was printing off applications for permits when my phone rang. “Christakos Construction, this is Katy, how may I help you?”

“I need to speak with Damon Chris Tacos.” I fought to hold back my laugh. That was a new one.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Christakos is in a meeting. I’m his assistant is there something that I can help you with?”

“Yes, this is Winona Jeffries. My husband and I purchased the property in phase three, and I just drove by the property. They have poured the concrete. You have to go out there and see, they’ve messed up.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jeffries. Can you be a little more exact? How did they mess up?”

“Our home, it’s supposed to be thirty-seven hundred square feet, that concrete slab is probably the size of my garage, it’s tiny. I tell you, tiny. T-I-N-Y. It’s so tiny that if I dropped my handkerchief in there, I’d have wall to wall carpeting.”

“I get your point, Mrs. Jeffries, it appears small. But that is normal.” Thank God Damon had gone through all of this with me and some of the calls I could expect. “First of all, remember that your house is two-story, so the concrete will only appear to be half the size of your square footage. Once the walls go up, you will get an idea of how large your home truly is.”

“Katy, I think you’re wrong. There is no way that can be my house. My shoes won’t fit in there.”

“Mrs. Jeffries, Christakos Construction has been in business a long time and has earned their stellar reputation by doing their job right. Trust me on this. You will be surprised once the walls go up.”

“If it isn’t, I’m getting the Better Business Bureau involved.”

I let out a soft sigh. “I would encourage you to.” We disconnected, and I pulled out the Jeffries’ file, made note of her call, and then flipped the file shut.

Damon had warned me about these kinds of calls, and all I needed was a suspected haunting and possible sinkhole, and I would have bingo.

“Hungry for pizza?” Damon stood at my door, keys in hand.

I pushed out a deep breath and tossed the file back on top of the stack. “Sure, why not.” I had brought peanut butter and jelly, but in no way did that compare to pizza. I followed him outside and was too busy contemplating how exactly he managed to be so self-assured without being intimidating to realize we were walking to his truck.

He opened the door for me, and I paused, my eyes flicking between the step bar and the actual cab. There was no way. I couldn’t climb up while maintaining one ounce of professionalism in my skirt. I backed up a step, colliding with a very solid, very warm chest, and his hands found my hips.

“Here, let me help you up.”

He didn’t give me a second to protest before he walked me forward and lifted me, my ass landing in the seat of the truck, but something—I wasn’t sure what—was left in the parking spot. Oh, that was my resolve at trying not to have inappropriate thoughts about my boss because his heat and his hands had my imagination turning me into a total hussy. I wanted to let out a sigh at the romance of it all, the cliché boss boinks secretary scenario.

At Antonio’s, we grabbed a table and sat across from each other. After snagging one of the menus that was stacked behind the napkin holder, I opened it and looked at the items. “What do you like on your pizza? I usually get just cheese, well, extra cheese.”

“No veggies?” he’d asked, as if affronted.

“Nah. Veggies will kill you.”

“What?”

“How many times do you hear about someone choking to death? It’s always the stuff that’s good for you. I can’t help but think to myself, I bet gooey cheese or a doughnut wouldn’t have done that.”

When the waitress came by, Damon was still laughing at my no vegetable joke as he ordered a large pizza half with everything and half with extra cheese only.

Our lunch was relaxed and comfortable, when the server brought our pizza, I went into mom mode, grabbing the plates and sliding a slice with vegetables onto it for him before serving myself. When I handed it to him, our eyes locked and I stilled, plate frozen in the air between us.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so used to being the one that serves.”

“It’s okay, my mother still does it, and I’m thirty-six.”

“You are?”

“Wow. Don’t go planning my funeral yet. Thirty-six isn’t that old.”

“No. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I just hadn’t thought about it. Maybe because I forget that I’m twenty-six, I feel older than I am.”

“Sometimes life experiences make us grow up, just don’t let them make you grow old. You need to have some fun, get out every now and then.”

“Easier said than done.” Well, for me anyway. He didn’t have a kid that he was responsible for.

He laughed and shook his head as he took the plate from me. “You would be surprised by how easy it is when you have the right people around you.”

I didn’t comment back, but thankfully, the air between us stayed casual as we ate. When we were done, he again refused to let me pay, and we headed back to the office, only to find Ariel and Sophie in George’s office.

“Hey, Pops. Soph, Ariel.” Damon’s love for everyone radiated as he walked over and placed a kiss on top of each woman’s head. “What are you two doing here?”

“Hi, everyone.” I waved. “I’ll be in my office.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here. We’re actually here to talk to Katy.” Sophie stood and walked toward me, Ariel following behind. “We wanted to invite you out tonight. We get together once a month for a girls’ night out, and we’d love it if you joined us.”

The invitation sounded genuine, but I still shook my head. “I’d love to, thank you for the offer, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” I slid one foot back to begin my escape. “But it was nice seeing you two. Bee and I will see you this weekend, I’m sure.”

“Wait.” It must be a family thing because Sophie’s hand struck out and wrapped around mine before I could make my getaway. “Please? If you’re worried about Bee, Harlow has been asking for a play date with her, so I figured the girls could all play while we went out. Those two will have Carter dressed up and sitting down for a tea party. It’s worth going out just to put him through it.”

I reminded myself to stop and think before throwing a fit. They weren’t trying to be overwhelming; they were just being welcoming. Bee had been asking to play with Harlow, and Damon had said that I should go out. The thought of it, the thought of doing something for myself . . . just because, was like a snowflake in a desert. Foreign and strange and maybe a bit welcomed. She’d be with Carter. Bee knew Carter. She liked Harlow. Bee had spent time with Harlow while Carter watched them at the community center. Carter genuinely cared about Bee, he’d protect her regardless, they had this bond and more than once Bee had told me about him cloud watching with her. He was also the only cop I actually trusted. Taking a deep breath, I did something that I’d never imagined doing.

“Okay.”

“Yay.” Ariel clapped. “We’ll pick you up just before seven.”

“I’d like to drive. You know, just in case. For emergency. I’ve never left Bee except at the community center or school.”

“The three of us will be together in Sophie’s car. Believe me, if there were an emergency, we’d leave with you. We wouldn’t let you handle it alone.” Sophie’s kind eyes sparkled the same rich chocolate as Damon’s.

Sophie and Ariel left, and I got back to work. Their words slowly slipping into my mind throughout my afternoon, not alone.

“Hey, you have a minute?”

I leaned back in my chair and stretched, taking in the way Damon’s body filled out his jeans and his pale blue button-up shirt. At some point, he’d rolled the sleeves, which gave him a casual but still powerful look. “Sure.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and get Bee so you can get ready and go out with the girls? If you don’t mind, I’ll come by and entertain her while you get ready.”

I smiled and gave him a slow nod, too shocked by these people to answer with words. I thought about the fact that it seemed I’d gotten more than a job—I’d gained friends, and it stunned me into silence. That was something I couldn’t remember ever truly having. When I was around these people, around Damon, a four-letter word danced in my head and my heart: hope. Could I trust someone not to hurt me?

* * *

On my way out, I called the school to let them know Bee was parent pickup, and they assured me that she would be there waiting.

Turning my blinker on, I scooted over into the parent pickup lane and waited my turn as car after car was filled with a child or two.

I jumped when a horn honked. Glancing forward, I saw that the car in front of me had pulled forward and then I turned to my rearview. Fucking soccer mom Suzy and her best friend Tits Magee were in the car behind mine, laughing about something.

I glared. Five feet, she really thought five feet was going to make that big of a difference. I wasn’t getting out of my car this time. No, I was going to piss her off instead—her and her perfectly coiffed bottle-blonde hair. I bet if I pulled it out, she’d have brown roots. At least I didn’t have to dye my hair.

As the car in front of me scooted up, I found satisfaction in keeping a small distance between us and just when I saw the stuck-up bitch put her car in park, I’d inch forward. It was entertaining, and I decided to do it every time that woman was behind me. I felt relaxed and vindicated as I saw the woman in the Porsche Cayenne get pissed as I continued my game. Finally, I made it to the front of the line, and Bee ran up to the car with some snotty ass brat right behind her. She said something, and I saw the hurt cross my girl’s face.

“Hey, Bee bug, what was that about?”

She rolled her eyes. “That was Tawney.”

I watched the mean girl get into the Porsche Cayenne, of course. Somehow it seemed fitting.

“Is her mom driving the vehicle behind us?”

“Yep. That’s Miss Manday.” Bee turned around and got her seatbelt fastened.

“Manday? You mean Mandy?”

“No. Manday. Like Monday.” Bee twisted the air vents to face her.

Oh, like Man-Day, since the black widow probably devoured them, or some other creature that ate the souls of hapless, unsuspecting people, a man a day. “What was she saying to you?”

“Mom.”

It wasn’t so much that she said my name as it was how she said it that had me looking over to her. On her face, all I could see was that her little eight-year-old world was crumbling. I didn’t always stand up for myself, but I sure as hell would fight for my kid. Her one word was a plea, and I totally understood it. She was begging me to let it go.

“Hey, kid, you know that you’re the peanut butter to my jelly, right?” That got me an eye roll. “You know how you feel when you get something amazing?”

“Like my Kindle?”

“Exactly, just like when the Santas gave you your Kindle. You were so excited that you told everyone, you even told strangers that you’d gotten a Kindle.” Bee laughed at the memory.

“Well, there are kids who act just as crazy, but for the opposite reason. They are used to getting everything they want. So, when they don’t get something, instead of getting excited like you did, they get mean. They still share their feelings with everyone, even strangers or people who had nothing to do with it, but it comes out as meanness.”

“But she has so much. She needs to be happy with what she has.” Bee’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“Sweet cheeks, truer words have never been spoken.”

When Bee and I arrived home—shit, this wasn’t home, this was Tristan’s house—I saw Damon’s truck over at his house, which gave me pause. Why did his brother need a house-sitter when anyone could stop by and check in on the house?

“Damon.” Bee raced off to meet him as he approached, and I let the thought slide away.

“Hey, Bee bug.”

An odd feeling crept over me when he called her that, that’s what I called her. It wasn’t jealousy. I didn’t mind. It was just weird because I couldn’t remember using her nickname in front of him. I needed to pay more attention to what I said and when. Comfort. Comfort was the beginning of all ruination. You get comfortable and things slip. You get comfortable and let your guard down. You get comfortable and then people can dangle something from a string in front of you.

“I’m doing some work over at my house. Bee’s welcome to come help while you get ready.”

“Thanks, but she needs to take a bath and get a few things together. She’s going over to Harlow’s. Maybe another time.” I took Bee’s backpack from her and headed toward the house. “Come on, Bee, let’s go.”