The next day and a half flew by in a blur of unexpected overtime work and exhausted sleep for Matt. When he could, he stole a minute or two to text Natasha, but by Wednesday morning, he was ready to see her again. When he finished his run, he texted her.

He grinned. It wasn’t. It was another forty-five minutes south, but an hour and a half round trip seemed like a perfectly reasonable price to pay to see two of his favorite happy faces.

She texted him her address.

He stopped at the bakery before leaving town and picked up a dozen assorted sweets, making sure there were two cookies with bright pink icing on them for Emily.

It was too cold to drive with his window down as he headed south. He wasn’t ready for winter again. It would be a long, cold slog until spring.

When he got to Port Elgin, he followed his GPS to the address Natasha gave him to a sprawling ranch close to the park. When he found it, both Natasha and Emily were out front, dressed for the cold weather but otherwise undeterred from enjoying the sunshine as Emily chased a hockey puck around the driveway with a mini stick.

He parked on the street, then grabbed the box of cookies and hopped out of his truck. Natasha watched him, her gaze unwavering, as he waved and strode along the sidewalk. That warm expression, that pleased smile—he’d been right. It was worth every second of the drive.

Emily met him at the foot of the laneway. “Matt!”

“Miss Monkey,” he said solemnly. “Nice stick.”

She waved it in the air. “It’s pink.”

“Of course it is.”

“What are those?” She pointed to the bakery box.

“Treats to have with coffee.”

“I don’t like coffee,” she giggled.

“But you like treats,” he countered, winking at her mom who had come up behind her.

“I love treats,” Emily said solemnly.

“Grab your puck,” Natasha said, pointing to it at the top of the drive. “Then we can go inside and see what Matt has brought you.”

They followed Emily as she sprinted to the house with a happy yell. Natasha kept pace with him, walking side-by-side, and even through their jackets, Matt was aware of her shoulder brushing against his arm. She was wearing the same boots she’d worn to the orchard, without a heel, which brought her forehead exactly to kissing height.

He liked how tall she was.

She glanced sideways at him. “Hey.”

“Nice to see you.”

“You keep saying that, I’m going to believe it.”

“Good.”

Inside was a bright, comfortable family room and eat-in kitchen combination, with a table almost as big as the one at Jake’s house.

“Nice place,” he said, setting the cookies on the table.

“I’ll tell my sister,” Natasha said with a laugh. “But we like it—and we’ll miss it.”

“Any progress on finding…” He glanced at Emily, who’d sank to her knees in front of a basket of stuffed animals.

Natasha shook her head and lowered her voice. “She doesn’t know yet. One thing at a time.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Coffee?”

He followed her into the kitchen space and stood mostly in the way, taking up a lot of room, but not wanting to be too far from her.

It was weird to just want so intently to share space with someone.

She made the coffee like a barista, in a French press with carefully measured grounds and boiling water. “How do you take it?”

“Milk and sugar.”

“Steamed milk or cold?”

“Fancy options. I’ll do steamed, I guess.” That made him think about the dreams she had for the future. Fancy food and drink, quality service. “Where did your love of all things elegant come from?”

She lifted one shoulder as she poured milk into a small pot. “I’m not sure. I remember in high school reading about gourmet food and thinking, That’s cool. I want to know more about that.”

“What’s your favourite?”

“Food?” She cocked her head to one side, thinking on that. She didn’t answer until she’d steamed the milk and poured it with the espresso into two mugs. “Anything French, really. I went to Paris during my first year of school, my only trip overseas, and it was just…I fell in love. More with the desserts than anything else, but the food, too. Cream sauces, perfect vegetables—butter makes everything amazing, of course.”

“I’ve never been overseas,” he blurted out. His brothers all had. He’d been too busy partying.

“Where would you go? If you wanted to, I mean?”

“Paris sounds good.” He rubbed his jaw. “Australia sounds amazing. South Africa, Hong Kong. Sean ran a race in Peru once, and he raved about it. I always thought I’d have time to travel with him later on.”

Natasha searched his face. “You can’t now?”

Matt blinked at her. “Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“You don’t know about…” He took a deep breath. He’d just assumed she knew, but there hadn’t been that much media coverage—Sean being a total asshole and refusing interviews had helped with that. “Ah. My brother—Sean, the youngest—was injured in Iraq earlier this year. He’s fine. Now. The spring was a bit rocky.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Matt…”

“He’s really fine.” He swallowed hard. “Shall we dig into the cookies?”

“Yeah…” She didn’t move though. “That must have been upsetting.”

He reached for her and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For being sweet.”

She squeezed her arms around him. It took her a minute to pull away, and part of him knew he should give her a bit more information. But he didn’t want to talk about the spring. He didn’t want to talk about any of the things that were ugly and upsetting in his life, not when there were pink cookies on the table.

As soon as Emily saw them, she sat at the head, right in front of the bakery box. Natasha gave her an indulgent smile and went all the way around, sitting on the far side. Matt took the seat directly across from her and then helped Emily open the treats.

“Cookies!” she squealed. “Mommy, they’re pink.”

Natasha leaned in to take a look, and smiled. “And some of them are French,” she said as she picked up a purple macaron. “Delicious.”

He grinned. “A lucky coincidence, but let’s pretend I knew you liked those.”

“Where did these come from?”

“A bakery in Pine Harbour.” He pushed through the awkward beat there. “I picked the ones for Emily, and asked for assorted others.”

“The pink ones are for me?” The three-year-old beamed at him, and he gave her his full attention.

“Yep. Both of them, but you should save one for tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Matt took a sip of his coffee and groaned in appreciation. “So good.”

Emily nudged the box of treats towards him. “Cookie?”

He took a peanut butter one and devoured it in three big, nervous bites. “Thanks,” he said after washing it down with more coffee.

Natasha watched him, and he looked right back. He had a million questions for her, and he didn’t know where to start. Wasn’t sure what was off-limits, if anything, and what might be awkward.

Emily had the conversation covered, though, at least as long as she had a cookie to eat. “Matt,” she said slowly as she licked a sliver of pink icing off the edge of one flower petal. “Where do you live?”

“In an apartment in Pine Harbour.”

“Apartment.” She repeated it slowly.

“Part of a house.”

“I live in part of a house.”

“Hey, that’s something we have in common.”

“Okay.”

Natasha smothered a giggle, and he remembered she’d said that was Emily’s go-to response lately.

He fingered the bakery box, and Emily gave him a cross look. “Just one cookie.”

“For you. You’re little,” he teased, but that was a mistake because the cross look intensified to a serious scowl. “Okay, I’ll save one for tomorrow, too.”

“Are you coming here tomorrow?”

A pang zapped through his chest. “I have to work tomorrow. But I’ll see you next week at our cooking class,” he promised.

She leaned in. “For colouring?”

“You bet.”

Natasha made them each a second cup of coffee, and Emily went to play. He leaned across the table and rubbed his fingertips against the edge of her hand. It was the most intimate contact they could have today, and from the way her gaze softened, he knew she felt it as keenly as he did. “I’ll see you next week, too.”

Two promises he meant with all his heart.

But he’d need to break them, because at the end of the week it started snowing, and didn’t stop. His overnight shift ran four hours overtime, well into Monday morning. The first bite of winter had caused two bad car accidents and he wound up stuck with a long off-load delay at the hospital.

Between the long shift, lack of sleep, and the crappy road conditions, he knew it wouldn’t be safe to drive to Port Elgin for the cooking class. He swore under his breath and pulled out his phone.

He’d dream of more than that. And when he woke up, he’d be texting her again, because they needed to see each other sometime this week.

He needed to see her. Hold her.

Kiss her and breathe her in.

Tucking away his phone, he grabbed his bag and headed outside, the cold nip of early morning bracing. Another week and he’d need a heavier coat. Summer was gone and winter was fast approaching.

The brief, beautiful autumn hadn’t been nearly long enough.

Things often happened in threes, Tasha believed. After her text messages with Matt, she got an email from David, asking in the most polite way—full credit to Sable, Tasha decided—if they could come up on the weekend for another visit with Emily.

She took a deep breath and replied in an equally polite way that yes, of course that would work, and Emily would be thrilled.

So when her phone rang at the end of cooking class, she knew before glancing at the screen that this was the third thing to discombobulate her world today.

She was not wrong.

The number on the screen was that of the real estate agent in Wiarton. Emily was helping move the chairs in the sunroom at the back of the restaurant, and Mrs. Cargill waved Tasha toward the front doors. “Take the call, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thanks,” she murmured before tapping the green icon to accept the call. “Hello?”

He introduced himself again, then dove right into it. “The house you looked at has dropped in price. I thought you might like to know, in case that changes your budget at all. There may be other offers coming in because of the reduction.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “How much of a drop?”

He told her and she fisted her hand in the air as she did a happy dance.

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll give it some thought.” Her voice sounded so reasonable. Nothing like the riot of feeling in her chest.

She needed to talk to her sister.

Did she want to put in an offer? Could they still go in with a low-ball starting point if she was flexible on everything else? And why was her heart filled with excitement at what should be a terrifying, nauseating prospect?

She fired off a quick SOS text to Meredith, then went back to collect Emily from Mrs. Cargill’s careful watch.

“Your friend didn’t come today,” the older woman said. “Matt.”

“He had to work,” Natasha said.

“I wanted to ask if he was related to Dean Foster.” Mrs. Cargill’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe try to wrangle myself an invitation to the wedding, whenever they get around to setting a date.”

“Uh…” Natasha laughed, not following. “Pardon?”

“His brother, dear. He’s engaged to Liana Hansen. The country music singer. But they seem to be one of those modern couples, in no rush to actually tie the knot.”

“Oh.” It was weird that other people knew more about Matt’s family than she did, but she’d blocked all things Foster out of her peripheral radar four years ago. Huh. “Well, I won’t be going to the wedding either, so there you go. We can miss it together.”

By the time they got home, Meredith was waiting for them. “I took a personal afternoon,” she said. “Shall we do a girls’ trip up to Wiarton just to look at it again?”

“Look at what?” Emily jumped up and down.

Natasha lifted her daughter up and kissed her cheek. It was too soon to tell her about moving, wasn’t it? She might not understand the concept anyway. “A house Mommy and Auntie Mer saw on the internet. We can stop and get hot chocolate on the way, too. Sound like a plan?”

“Yay!”

They called the realtor from the car. He met them at the house for another walkthrough. Emily danced from room to room with wonder in her eyes, and didn’t ask why they’d come to see an empty house.

Natasha tried hard not to cry. This was all happening too fast.

“Go for it,” her sister whispered. “Step one in the Big Dream Plan. We can co-sign the mortgage if need to be.”

So with Meredith squeezing her hand so hard it hurt, Natasha agreed to put in an offer with as few conditions as possible.

“I need a home inspection,” she said, her voice shaking. “But everything else can be waived. Oh God, did I really just say that?”

The realtor chuckled. “Be sure.”

“I’m sure.” She nodded. “Let’s do this.”

“Do what, Mommy?” Emily launched herself into Natasha’s arms.

There was a long to-do list before Tasha would feel right answering that question. Maybe it was to protect her own heart more than Emily’s, but she didn’t want to get her daughter’s hopes up too soon.

First she had a bunch of hurdles to clear with the bank, and who knew what the home inspection might find.

Then she needed to figure out what she was going to do for a job, and childcare.

Then she could tell Emily they were moving to a beautiful old house they would make all their own.

One thing at a time.

Matt slept until dinner time, then woke up, texted Tasha, and got himself ready for work.

She didn’t reply until he was already at the station, getting ready for his shift.

She sent back a big, grinning emoticon.

He pumped his fist in the air.

She didn’t text again over the course of his shift, and when he crawled into bed the next morning, he fired off a quick message so she’d know he was thinking of her.

When he woke up mid-afternoon, she hadn’t replied yet.

He had another shift that night, but that was it for the week. The next day, Wednesday, was a parade night, but he could probably escape the armouries at ten, which would get him to Bailey’s by eleven at the latest.

At least one hour in Tasha’s shift for him to sit at the end of her bar and tell her she was pretty.

It took her ages to respond, but when she did, she made him smile.

As he was reading that, his dick getting a little thick at the idea of her wanting to make out again, another message popped up.

His phone rang.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked breathlessly.

“Not at all.”

“I’m just driving to work, so I’ve only got five minutes, but this way I can talk on hands-free while I drive.”

He needed to be at work in twenty minutes himself. He dropped onto his couch and put his feet up. “Sounds perfect. So—the house. I want to hear everything.”

“I told my sister it’s like step one in the Big Dream Plan. Part rental property, part bed and breakfast, it gives me some different options if one route doesn’t work out.” She described a big, turn of the century house that had been badly broken up into three units, none of them quite big enough to rent out to maximum profit at the moment. “But I bet there are hipsters in the city who would love to rent the studios for a weekend in the country, if it’s packaged properly,” she said with all the confidence in the world.

And he bet she was right.

“So it’ll be a lot of renovation, which I’ll have to do myself, and a crazy amount of hustle to get it done fast enough so I can be making money by the spring,” she added, laughing. Less confident now, more shaky, but still excited. “Was it just last week that I was telling you about this as a wild dream type of thing?”

“You’re going to run with this,” he said. He could picture it, exactly as she’d described. “You know exactly what you want, and now you’re going to make it happen. It’s going to be incredible.”

“I hope so. Okay, I’m at work, so I need to go. I’ll…see you tomorrow night?”

“Absolutely.”

She exhaled in his ear, a soft, warm rush of air that warmed him from the inside out. “I can’t wait.”

After the texting the day before, Matt was pumped as he drove to Port Elgin late on Wednesday night. He liked whatever this was that he was doing with Natasha.

He liked her. A lot.

And when her face lit up as he walked into the bar, something solid and warm shifted inside him.

“You kicked everyone out just for me?” He gestured at the empty bar.

She pointed to the back corner. “One group still there.”

“How late are you open tonight?”

“Another forty-five minutes.” She smiled as she wiped down the bar. “And then I close up on my own tonight, because the kitchen’s already shut tight.”

Hot fucking damn. “Can I help stack chairs?”

“You sure can.” She winked at him. “I offer the best dates. Vomiting customers, manual labour…”

“Bring it on.” He shrugged out of his coat and sat at the bar. “You also make amazing lattes and mixed drinks, too.”

She laughed. “What do you want tonight?”

“Just a Coke is fine.”

She set a bowl of pretzels in front of him too, and he checked his messages while she headed to the back to check on her last customers.

Her hair was braided tonight, a loose plait that ran down her back, revealing more skin than he’d seen before. He found himself transfixed by the curve of her neck and the play of her muscles just above the neckline of her shirt.

Tonight, he wanted to kiss her there.

One day he would kiss her everywhere.

“They’re just finishing up,” she said when she came back.

“Cool. Busy night before this?”

“Not too bad. Which was good, because I have a million lists to make.” She pulled out a notebook from a hidden shelf under the bar. “Planning, packing, budgeting…it’s insane. Total whirlwind. And I had to give my notice here tonight, too, which was bittersweet, although Malcolm wants me to stay on until Meredith leaves and I lose my nighttime childcare. I’ll work weekends, at least, and drive back and forth. It’ll give me time to find something in Wiarton.”

“You like bartending.”

She nodded, looking around the space. “Yeah. I do. I think I can give myself three months to focus on the house and try and get the studio apartments ready for rental, but then I’ll need to find a new job, and the reality of childcare costs mean that’ll have to be a daytime position…so like, waitressing?” She made a face. “Which is way less fun. Reality. Blargh. What a buzzkill.”

He laughed. “Well, here’s hoping you find something not buzzkill-y, and the rental units really take off.”

She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I do need to stay realistic, too. This is a big opportunity, but it’s also a big risk. That’s something I would have been all over when I was younger, but now…”

You’re still young, he wanted to tell her. Young, gorgeous, perfect. But he knew what she meant. She’d lived a lot in the last few years, and he knew a little about losing the innocence of youth in a hurry. She knew a lot more.

“Tell me more about young, adventurous Natasha.”

She tossed her head back and groaned. “The player girl? She was wild.”

He’d had a taste of that wild. He knew it was still inside her. “What did she want her future to look like?”

That got him an amused look in response. “Not quite this. But she didn’t know how good it would feel to have a toddler’s arms wrapped around her neck, either, so… the dream shifted a bit to accommodate that. For a long time, I didn’t think the dream was in reach at all, and now I’m making crazy lists.”

The party in the back corner approached the bar, and she broke away to settle up. Then she followed them to the door, holding it open until the last customer was through. After she swung it shut, she tossed the deadbolt with a happy sigh.

“So,” she said, approaching him on his side of the bar. “We are all alone.”

“Good.” He pulled her into the open V of his legs and kissed her. As soon as their mouths connected, a rush of relief pulsed through him. Yeah, he’d missed this.

“What are we doing?” she whispered breathlessly after he’d had a thorough taste of her.

“Making out. Maybe I didn’t give you a good enough demonstration.”

She laughed. “Yes, please show me again.”

He did. But he knew what she’d meant.

This was quickly becoming something regular. He was making time for her twice a week, easy, and half the time she was off-limits, physically. Not that he minded sharing his time with her with Emily.

He wanted to see them both, get to know them both.

He was tumbling hard for a woman he’d only kissed a few times.

She was right to ask what they were doing, and he was a coward for avoiding the conversation by kissing her instead.

“So…,” he said slowly as he rubbed his hands over her body. “What are we doing? You are being a very good friend to me.”

“In this time of need?” She said it lightly, because she had no idea.

She’d shared a lot about her life and her dreams. Her fears. Maybe it was time for him to do some sharing of his own.

“Yeah.” He chased her mouth again, and she kissed him. Her hands traced the muscles in his neck, her touch light enough to make him shiver, and then she tangled her hands in his hair.

“What do you need?” She whispered the question against the corner of his mouth.

“You. As a friend.” He didn’t have many of those, and none anything like Tasha. She made him want to open up about all sorts of things he couldn’t even name.

“Friend with benefits?”

He hadn’t meant it like that, and if he had, it would be more friend with responsibilities, he wanted to say. But maybe his head was in a different place than hers. Maybe it was too soon to dive deep into the mess of his complicated feelings. “Yeah,” he rasped. “I guess. No pressure.”

She went still in his arms. “No pressure is good, but I don’t like the idea of you having other friends with benefits, for the record.”

He burned at the thought of another man getting under her skin. “Deal. I’m all yours, and only yours, for however long I can be of service.”

“That’s really important to me. David…was flexible with the truth—and fidelity. I promise you can’t hurt me with the truth, but you can harm me with lies. Even lies of omission.” Her eyes glittered as she said the last sentence, and Matt wanted to pound her ex into the ground.

He held up his fist between them, his pinky finger extended. “I promise to be straight with you. You know I’m attracted to you, but while I really want to get you into bed, I can take my time with that. There’s no-one else, and there won’t be anyone else. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She let out a watery laugh. “For some really weird reason, I believe you.”

“You can trust me. We’re on the same page. I like having you in my arms, but I like coffee and cookies with Emily, too. I'm never going to be mistaken for Mr. Right, but I’m not playing here, either.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You're kidding, right? You’re exactly Mr. Right, at least on the surface.”

“I’m generally understood to be a shameless flirt and have historically been a bad bet for more than a single night, although I’m more than happy to break that tradition for you.”

She gripped his hair and tugged gently, looking him right in the eye. “That’s the weirdest pitch for dating someone I’ve ever heard. ‘Give me a chance, I’m terrible.’”

“You should, and I am.”

“I could match you, I'm sure. I'm so not the girl you bring home to impress your parents.”

“Yeah, that’s not a concern for me. I make my own decisions.”

“Again with the right words.”

“It’s the truth. I know we’ve been over this ground before, but it can’t be said enough. I really like you.”

“I like you, too.” She smiled. “So…something simple. No strings.”

“Simple is my middle name.”

“Did you recently have a name change?”

He tugged her and kissed her gently after laughing against her mouth. “Yes.”

“I like it.”

“Yeah? Good.”

He embraced her again, a searing kiss this time that made him want to do inappropriate things to her. Setting his hands on her hips, he lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the bar. She spread her legs and made room for him.

“Is this okay?”

“He asks after doing it.” She grinned. He liked how she bounced back to happy, no matter how worried or distracted she might get. “Yes, this is fine.”

“Fine?” He squeezed her knees and tugged her right to the edge. If he stood on the ledge, she was at exactly the right height for him to rock his pelvis up against her body. “I can give you a lot more than fine.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes blazed at him. “Show me.”

He dragged his knuckles up her thighs, over the hard press of her muscles against her jeans, and onto her hips. Her eyelids drifted low and heavy as he squeezed there, his thumbs brushing her belly, then higher.

Under the t-shirt.

Bare skin.

Sure hands.

“Matt,” she breathed.

“You’re so beautiful.” He cupped her breast, squeezing and toying with her flesh the way she’d liked in the orchard. “So sexy. I can’t get enough of you.”

“Soon I’ll have a place all to myself.”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about that. I want you to sneak me in and out of your bedroom. Your living room. Hell, I’m happy to make out with you just inside the entranceway.”

“I want to do a lot more than make out,” she whispered, and he ground his cock against the apex of her thighs.

Hell yeah. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel your skin against mine.” She ran her fingers over the tendons in his neck. “Feel your weight on top of me.”

Jesus. Yes. “Soon, baby.”

“I needed this tonight.”

“Me too.” He stole a kiss, sucking on her tongue, her lips, the corner of her mouth. Worth the drive for this kiss, this conversation, another step forward into the unknown territory of a complicated, adult relationship.

He kissed her hard enough to push away the remaining weirdness about her history, his track record, and any problems that might stand in their way.

Right now, there was only this. Two bodies and zero space in between.

“I want to get you off,” he murmured, and she stiffened. “Not here, I know.”

She tipped her head back and rocked her hips against him.

So tempting. He gave in and ground against her, showing her just how much he wanted every inch of her.

But when she pulled back, he dropped his head to her shoulder and counted to ten.

She dragged in a deep breath. “Soon. I’m moving in two weeks.”

He nodded.

“Holy crap,” she said breathlessly. “I’m moving in two weeks. It doesn’t feel real.”

“I can help. I’m pretty strong.”

“Oh, I wasn’t—” She cut herself off. “That wasn’t why I said it.”

He held her gaze. “Friends, remember? Friends help on moving day. That’s a rule.”

But it probably wasn’t one she’d had a lot of benefit from over the years. He knew she wouldn’t want to rely on him in any way, because she’d been burnt, over and over again—and at least once by his own flesh and blood.

“I want to help,” he gently added. “Tell me where to be when, and what to bring.”