Natasha’s phone rang at ten o’clock that night, while she was mid-pour on a tray of pints for a celebrating women’s curling team.

In the past, she’d always turned the ringer off while working, but this was only Matt’s second night alone with Emily. So as soon as she was finished with the tray of drinks, she grabbed the phone, ready to call him back.

But it wasn’t Matt. It was David.

She didn’t bother to leave behind the bar, she just hit the call button. He picked up on the first ring.

“Sorry about the late hour,” he said.

“It’s fine. What’s up?”

“I can come up tomorrow and take Emily for a day or two. I can use vacation time to make up the lost weekend. I shouldn’t have cancelled.”

Natasha leaned against the bar, truly stunned. “What?”

He sighed. “Especially after you reamed me out for overstepping. I just got lost in this project, but we wrapped it up today and I want to make it up to Emily. And…to you.”

She wouldn’t give him a cookie for essentially doing what he’d said he’d do in the first place, but there was something in his voice that softened her heart a little. “We’re having Matt’s family over for an informal get together in the afternoon tomorrow. Could you work around that?”

“Sure. I can take Monday off. Pick her up at three tomorrow, bring her back the same time the next day?”

“That works.” She paused. “She starts pre-school on Tuesday. Do you think you could take her backpack shopping? We were going to do that on Monday.”

“I can do that.”

When she hung up the phone, she stood there looking at the dark screen for quite a while, until Malcolm came out to tell her the kitchen was closing up. She went up on her tiptoes, raised her voice, and announced it was last call for food.

Her boss, and her friend, was looking at her with curiosity when she rocked back on her heels.

“What?”

“You’ve changed.”

“Stress will do that to you.”

“Stress doesn’t usually make you…content.”

She laughed. “Is that what I look like? Content?”

“Don’t knock it. It’s a good look.”

She took a deep breath. “Yeah. I guess it is. And I suppose I am. I’m going to miss it here, though.”

“We’ll have you back any time. Kick the new bartender to wait service.”

She pushed at his shoulder and he held out his arms. Leaning in, she gave him a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

“You’ve been one of the most reliable employees I’ve ever had. The thanks are all mine. Now get out of here.” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket. “Your final pay, in cash. Vacation pay and a small bonus are in there too, because you’re going to do great things and I want you to remember me fondly when you do.”

She took the thick bundle, trying not to get choked up. “That’s not necessary.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “I think it is. So there.”

So there.

“Now get out of here. Go home to your baby and get an extra hour of sleep tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m going to hit on the curling team. If we’re lucky, we’ll close the place down together.”

She held up her hands. “Fair enough. Best of luck.”

When she got home, Matt was passed out in her bed. She crawled in next to him and he slung his arm over her, mumbling something about trolls.

The next morning sped by in a blur of Natasha trying to make her house look absolutely perfect in a casual, it’s-always-been-like-this kind of way.

Which was ridiculous because two of Matt’s three brothers had already been there the day before, but she didn’t even try to talk herself out of the ridiculousness. Some things just needed to be given a white flag of surrender, and neurotically wanting to impress her boyfriend’s family was one of those things.

Matt found her in the apartment. He was carrying the baby monitor. “Emily’s playing in her room,” he said, wiggling the device. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay.” She stepped back from the bookshelf. She’d been collecting hipster-ish decorative items for the last month or so, and she liked what she’d done. A typewriter on top, some nicely bound hardcovers in a few stacks on the shelves, and a couple of decorative pottery pieces for balance. “I think this is missing something, but I don’t know what.”

“Jake wanted to know if he could bring power tools today.”

“What?” She did a visual run-down from top to bottom. Maybe a generic picture frame. Too late for today, but— “Wait, what?”

She whirled around and Matt gave her a sheepish smile. “Hi.”

“Matt…”

“Is this our second fight?”

“No.” But she crossed her arms over her chest anyway. “Maybe. What did you do?”

“Nothing. I swear. I haven’t told any of them anything about the renovations.”

She let her arms swing loose at her side. “Then why does Jake think that I need power tools kind of help today?”

“He knows you’re doing this on your own and he was just offering to help. It’s kind of a funny story, actually.”

She looked at him in disbelief.

He soldiered on. “He brought up today in a vague way, and I thought maybe he was offering to not come, and I told him that was silly—”

“That is silly.”

“Right.” Matt cleared his throat. “He thought so too. He wasn’t offering that. He was offering help.”

“I don’t need help.”

She could tell it was taking all of Matt’s self-restraint to not look at the door to the old, ugly bathroom behind him.

“Well, okay, I need to figure out what I’m doing with that,” she said. “But not today. No tools.” She marched past him and tugged the door to the bathroom shut. “And the tours of this space won’t include the bathroom.”

He held up his hands. “Your call, absolutely.”

She marched right back to him and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Thank you for telling them nothing.”

“Just so you know, he’s going to find a way to offer help again.”

“And I’ll find a way to dodge around it.” She lifted her chin defiantly, and Matt kissed her there, and then on her neck, and behind her ear.

Then he brushed his lips against her temple. “You are fierce and gorgeous. You can do anything. But there’s nothing wrong with a little nepotism to get you a deal on some sub-contracting work.”

She poked him in the belly button. “Can you go to the store and buy some fresh flowers?”

“Of course.” He kissed her quickly. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she murmured as he pressed the baby monitor into her hand. She turned around, doing another visual sweep of the space.

She loved it. They were almost ready for photos to go on the rental site. She just needed the bedding to arrive. And people might not book it without fancy bathroom shots, but she was willing to gamble and make the listing live without those.

Maybe.

A decision for tomorrow, either way.

When Matt got back from the store, his arms were full of flowers. Four mixed bouquets, which split up into every mason jar she owned and still filled a big water jug, too. That went on the kitchen counter, and the mason jars went over to the apartment.

“Now we really need to get it shiny tomorrow for photos,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to waste these gorgeous flowers.”

He caught her by the waist and spun her around. “If the only thing they do is make you smile today, they aren’t wasted. Put on music and we can dance.”

“Your family will be here soon.”

“So? They can see us dancing.” He brought their bodies together, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and kissed her.

“Music,” she whispered.

“I’m good.” He swayed, rocking them to a silent beat, and she let him lead until Emily’s feet hit the stairs. He kissed her knuckles as she slid out of his arms, making her melt all over again.

“Mommy!”

She cleared her throat and fought back a smile. “Yeah, baby?”

“People are here.”

Which meant Emily had been playing with her ponies in Natasha’s room—her and Matt’s room, now, her skipping heart reminded her—so she could see out the front window.

Tasha didn’t mind that. “Okay,” she called out as a knock sounded at the door.

Showtime.

She got to the door just as Emily was turning the knob. “Maybe let Mommy…” she murmured, but it was happening.

Her three-year-old was welcoming guests to their house, and okay, that was adorable and fine.

Everything was fine.

Except she was flustered from Matt’s silent dance in the kitchen and the flowers and everything.

“I’m Emily,” her daughter announced. “Hi.”

Tasha pulled the door open and found Jake on the other side. Beside him was his wife Dani, who had their son in her arms. “Welcome,” she said. Then she smiled. “Come on in.”

As soon as they were inside, the couple traded armfuls. Jake took their kid, and Dani grabbed the bag he’d been carrying. “Hi,” she said, stepping forward, letting Jake deal with the snowsuit-clad child. “I brought wine. Red, white, and sparkling.”

They were going to be best friends.

“I’ve got six kinds of cheese and extra large wine glasses,” Natasha said. “Follow me to the kitchen.”

Matt met them in the doorway. “Hey, drinks!”

“For ladies,” Dani said, giving him an innocent smile. “Wait until the others are here, and we’ll see who all is drinking. There may not be enough to share.”

He raised his hands. “No drama. I’m no threat here.”

Tasha laughed. “Wow.”

Dani winked. “This is going to be fun. And I love your house, by the way.”

“It’s a work in progress.” Something she’d be saying over and over again, she was sure.

“But amazing bones. What a good find.” Dani held out the options. “What do you want to open first?”

“We can start with the white and go from there.”

“I like the way you think.”

Another knock sounded from the entranceway. Matt got that one, and from the exponential increase in volume, she guessed the other two couples had arrived.

Dani gave her a sideways grin. “They’re all great.”

Sure, but one of them was a famous country music singer. In all of the chaos of the weekend, she’d forgotten that bit. It seemed quite removed from her quiet romance with Matt, but Dean had been Liana Hansen’s bodyguard two years earlier, and they’d fallen in love.

So now a Nashville celebrity was in her house, which meant that standing next to Jake’s wife sharing wine like besties was no longer the weirdest thing about this afternoon.

She swallowed a big gulp of wine. “I’ll go say hi.”

Dani held out her hand for Natasha’s wine glass. They were definitely going to be great friends. Weird and wonderful.

“Hi,” she said, and the whole exchange of pleasantries started over again.

“We brought Tennessee whiskey,” Liana said, holding out two gift boxes. “But honestly, I’m more of a tequila girl if we’re talking about the hard stuff. Probably neither of them are appropriate for this afternoon, but we’ll have to do this again without the men and children and then we can truly get to know each other.”

Natasha’s cheeks pinked up. “That sounds awesome.” She took a deep breath. “Can I get you something a little less potent to drink right now?”

Sean’s wife, Jenna, a midwife, declined wine because she was on call, but Liana said she would join them.

“Jenna, can I get you water or juice?”

“Water would be great.”

“I want milk, Mommy,” Emily interjected.

“Lead the way, baby.”

After Natasha handed glasses all around, she hoisted Emily up onto the counter and gave her a plastic cup. Then the guys joined them, and there were eight adults and two kids—Calvin got a cup of milk, too—squeezed into the kitchen.

“We weren’t sure we’d ever get to meet you guys,” Dean said from his post right behind his fiancé. One of his arms was wrapped around her waist and she was leaning fully against him. “I mean, before the wedding, of course.”

“Oh, have you set a date?” Jenna asked, pulling out her phone.

Natasha was momentarily amused that Mrs. Cargill’s gossip had been somewhat accurate, and the date was still up in the air. Or had been until recently.

“We’re thinking about Victoria Day,” Liana said in her southern lilt. “My band will get a kick out of the May Two-Four nickname for the long weekend, and we can play up the Canadian details. That’s if it works for y’all.”

Sean nudged his wife. “Jenna’s the only one who schedules that far in advance, probably.”

“I’m booking the weekend off right now,” she murmured. Then she lifted her head and looked at Natasha. “How about you? Will you be renting out the units by then?”

How about her? She’d barely met these people and they were asking about her calendar for a family wedding.

“Uh…” She smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Yes, we’ll be renting them out then, but, uh…it’ll be fine.” Slick, she was not.

But then Matt was beside her, sliding his fingers through hers and giving her a gentle squeeze, and it didn’t matter.

“How are the renovations going?” Sean asked.

Natasha gestured at the definitely-not-renovated kitchen they were standing in. “This part hasn’t even started yet.”

Everyone laughed. It wasn’t that funny, but they were kind.

She pointed at the interior door to the apartments. “We can go take a look if you want to see? They’re works in progress. One has more work done on it than the other.”

“Are they the same size?” This time it was Jake asking questions. Of course he was, he was a builder.

But Natasha wasn’t intimidated by him, his job, or their history. She knew her house inside out now. “Upstairs is a bit smaller, because of space taken up by Emily’s bedroom, but downstairs has this little hallway, so it’s pretty close.” She let them into the first apartment. Matt’s bed was set up in the sleeping nook of the studio space, and the red velvet couch was front and centre, facing the door, with her homemade coffee table with hairpin legs in front of it.

Liana let out a wolf-whistle. “Hello.”

Natasha grinned. “Thanks.”

Jake did a slow prowl, looking at her paint job, the new trim she’d installed, and the floors she’d painstakingly refinished. “Very nice,” he finally said.

“What’s through this door?” Dean asked, pointing to the bathroom.

“Part of the work in progress—the bathroom. But I haven’t started in there yet.”

Jake glanced at her, then at Matt. She didn’t blink.

Finally he nodded again. “Looking forward to seeing it when it’s all done, then.”

But as everyone else filed upstairs, following a climbing Calvin and a very concerned Emily, Jake hung back.

“Hey,” he said. “If you need anything, let me know. No pressure, but the offer stands even if you don’t need it right now.”

She could say no again. But she’d done that once already, and actually, she did need something. “Do you know any plumbers who might be available sooner than later? And a tile guy? I can afford to pay a bit more for expediency.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek as he glanced back toward the bathroom. “Can I take a look? How big is it?”

“Sure.” She led him to the bathroom and he peeked inside.

“What are you thinking? Tub or shower?”

“Whichever is faster to install in here. I’ll do the opposite upstairs, probably.”

He nodded. “Smart. Okay. Yeah, I can find you a guy. I’ll make some calls, but then I’ll put them in touch with you directly and you can deal with them from there.”

“Thank you.” She meant it to her very core.

He gestured around her first rental space. “This is great. Good job. I wish I’d thought of it, to be honest.”

“Maybe I’ll let you be a silent partner on my next project.”

He laughed.

She wasn’t kidding. Escape Inn Pine Harbour would need a good contractor.

David and Sable arrived as everyone was leaving. Natasha thought about offering them the same tour she’d given Matt’s brothers, but decided she didn’t need to open herself up to that kind of punishment.

“How was the drive up?” she asked politely as Matt helped Emily into her coat.

“Pretty good,” Sable said.

And the conversation ground to a halt there.

Great.

After a quick last hug and kiss, Emily was out the door. Matt closed it behind them and gave Natasha a look.

“What?”

“That was a roller coaster of a day,” he said, advancing on her.

“It was.”

“And it’s done now.”

“I know.”

“Aww,” he said, catching her by the hips and holding her close. He kissed her lightly. “Come on, let’s have a shower. You may feel better about everything when you’re squeaky clean.”

“I’m not in the mood for sex right now.”

“Who said anything about sex? I’m talking about the world’s greatest shampooing and totally platonic back washing.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “What do you know about platonic back washing?”

“Zero experience. But I have a lot of enthusiasm and outside of technical skills, I’ve found that carries me a long way in general. Probably true for being your faithful and agreeable eunuch in the shower.”

“Nobody said anything about a eun—”

“Manservant. Naked butler. Take your pick.”

She was laughing now, even though her heart hurt. “Naked butler has a certain ring to it.”

He took a deep bow, all of his muscles rippling. “At your service, Ms. Kingsley.”

She sighed. “I think I only drank half a glass of wine today. How do you feel about getting a little tipsy?”

“I feel great about that.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her into the kitchen. The bottle of white wine was half empty and the red hadn’t been touched. “Which do you want?”

“Erm…”

He opened the fridge. “Wait. I have it.” He pulled out the bottle of sparkling wine Dani had brought. “Let’s drink this.”

“The white is already open.”

“And it will keep a day or two.” He started to unwrap the foil. “Let’s celebrate. First family get together done. Civil child transfer accomplished. And other than the bathroom and a few details—I haven’t forgotten the picture frame—the apartment is done. You are a goddess and I want to drink this out of your belly button.”

“How about a flute?”

He winked at her. “We can negotiate the details as we make our way through the bottle.”

“Your brother is going to help me find tradespeople for the bathroom.”

“Good. More reason to break out the bubbly. Let’s keep listing the good news.”

“We’re going to be drunk before dinner, aren’t we?”

“And how.”

She reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him in for a kiss. Not a light one, either. A full-on passionate reason to celebrate. “I love you,” she breathed when they came up for air.

He twisted the cork out of the bottle with a resounding pop. “I know.”

It took them two hours to empty the bottle. Then they ordered dinner to be delivered from the pub, and once it arrived, they ate it on the floor in the kitchen.

“Maybe we should bring your table here,” Natasha said as she stole one of Matt’s fries.

“Or we could buy a nice big dining room table for the living room. Fill the space between the couch and the kitchen.”

“I don’t—”

He pressed his index finger against her lips. “My present to you, since I’ve just moved myself into your house.”

She needed more wine. “Okay.”

“And I’m going to start helping in other ways, too. Fair warning.”

“We can argue about that when we’re sober,” she whispered.

“What are you thinking now?”

“I want to do tequila shots.”

Matt groaned. “I started this, didn’t I?”

“You did.” She laughed. “I’m so sorry.”

He dug out the bottle Liana and Dean had brought and she found shot glasses.

“You don’t have limes, though.” He grabbed the salt shaker. “Do we need this, bartender?”

She inspected the bottle. “I’m guessing this is a hundred bucks a bottle. This is going to be straight up. You ready for this?”

“No. Pour them anyway.”

The first went down easy.

“Another?”

“You know it.”

The next one made her head spin, and she grabbed the front of Matt’s shirt again. His mouth was wet and red and she wanted his tongue in her mouth like whoa.

“Easy,” he said as she tried to climb him.

“I love you. Did we celebrate that earlier? With the bubbly?”

“I think so.”

“One more shot.”

“Ah…”

But she was already pouring them. This one was a little heavy on the pour, which was fine. The hundred bucks a bottle tequila was fine shit.

“Bottoms up,” she said, lifting her glass in the air. “And then you can take me upstairs and discover the hot pink thong I’ve been wearing all day.”

He waited a beat, then tossed the shot back.

She followed suit, and as soon as her glass hit the counter, he had her up and over his shoulder.

“Matt Foster, put me down.”

“In a minute.”

She shrieked as he carried her through two doorways and up the stairs. How he managed to do that without whacking her head on anything, she wasn’t sure. But the next thing she knew, he was dumping her on the bed.

"Get naked," he growled.

"Demanding." She laughed as she tugged him down, too. “You first.”

He unzipped his fly and shoved his jeans down his legs. She would never tire of this unveiling. His long, muscled legs, lightly dusted in soft hair. The powerful flex of his thighs, the tight nip of his body at his hips.

The thick, straining erection between his legs.

"Touch yourself," she whispered before peeling off her shirt. She watched wide-eyed as he worked his hand up and down his shaft. "That's gorgeous."

"Pants off," he reminded her. “I want to see that pink thong.”

"Yeah. Sure." She worked at her fly, which took more effort than she’d have expected—thanks, tequila. Then finally crawled off the bed and kicked her jeans free. After she got naked, she climbed onto the bed again, perching between his legs.

His eyes were liquid heat as he watched her watching him. He lifted his hand away from his cock and it flexed in the air, bobbing and growing under her perusal. “You want this?”

“So much. I want it all.” Put a baby in me, she wanted to say. Thanks, tequila. Again.

By the end of the night, it might slip out, and she was just drunk enough to think that might be okay. She stroked her hand over his calf, and just up onto his thigh. He lifted his leg.

She kissed his knee as she watched his fingers drag back across his hip, his belly, then around the base of his erection.

So big.

So heavy and masculine.

Scootching onto all fours, she drifted her mouth higher up his thigh. He smelled good. The booze made her head swim, or maybe that was just him.

Her gaze zeroed in on his hand. He was moving it faster now, his index finger knuckle rocking over the sweet spot just beneath the head.

"Do you want to take over?"

She shook her head. "You keep doing that. Ignore me."

"Hard to ignore how good your breath feels."

She exhaled as she smiled, and his skin tightened up. Goosebumps and flexing muscles. She licked a line along the edge of his groin, then over his balls and up the underside of his cock. He tasted like clean musk, like sex.

“I love you,” she whispered before she took the thick, straining crown in her mouth.

His taste exploded on her tongue and her head swam. She wanted to ride him, but the condoms were…somewhere. So she swallowed him instead, licking and sucking at his length as he moved beneath her.

“Come here,” he whispered.

But when she pulled her mouth off him, the whole world tilted on its axis.

And then she hiccuped.

He started laughing, and she rolled onto her back.

Clumsily, he followed her, pressing one of his heavy, muscled legs between hers.

“Oh God,” she whispered, rocking against his thigh. Another hiccup shook her body.

He laughed harder.

“I’m so drunk.” She groaned and flopped back, barely missing kneeing him in the junk.

“I know, baby, me too.” He kissed her head. “We’ll pick this up again in the morning.”

That made her groan again. “The morning.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. It’s the thing that comes after the night.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his chest. God, he smelled so good. “I don’t think I’m going to like the morning.”