Pretty girls always mean trouble. They bat their eyelashes, drum up a tear or two, and you find yourself rearranging your schedule.

I’ve spent an hour worrying about her dog falling into the holes I dug near the koi pond. One false scramble after a leaf or frog, and the dog will be trapped in the bottom of a deep hole—the kind I usually cover until a tree is planted, but didn’t, since I was so distracted.

After I finish dressing, I hop into my Jeep and drive the short distance to the Vanderbilts’. If I hadn't inherited my own property from my grandfather, I'd never be able to live in such a beautiful place—green pastures and blue sky everywhere. Two horses graze along the white wood fences that parallel the road.

There are only a few vehicles parked out front, including a white van with a catering logo on the side. She must’ve convinced them to come early after all. I park on the side of the garage so I won't be trapped in case someone pulls in behind me. I figure I don't need to go to the front door. Only guests will be entering the front of the house. The kitchen is closest to the rear of the house, so I get out of my vehicle and walk around back. The sound of the waterfall I created as a water feature in the koi pond gurgles pleasantly.

From somewhere near the patio arbor, voices carry in the still evening. The conversation punches with anger—each word staccato and strained. I freeze before I make the turn, wondering if I've arrived too late to check on things or if some guests are already here.

“You had no right to say those things to Dad.” Kiley must be holding her temper in check, because her words have icicles hanging from them.

“I only did what I thought was best for you.”

“You don’t get to make that decision.”

“I do, as your husband.”

“You aren’t my husband, yet. It’s not too late to back out,” Kiley says. “If you can’t respect me and my decision to work on the show, then I think we need to reevaluate.”

“Sweetheart. Baby. What are you saying? You’re stressed over tonight. That’s all it is.”

He’s using pet names, but they sound false to my ears. The manipulation of a guy who tosses around endearments he’s used with every girl he’s dated—even the one-night stands.

If she buys that load of crap, they deserve each other. I don't hesitate any longer. Walking around the corner, I glance up and act surprised to see them. “Oh, hi.”

She appears embarrassed for a split second when she realizes I must’ve heard them. Her shame is raw and real. My chest tightens to see her so vulnerable.

In the next second, Kiley puts her emotions away. She’s a damned actress.

“Gunner. I didn't know you were coming by.” She gives me a genuine smile—a grateful smile—and something loosens within my chest. I take in her dark hair that falls in gentle waves around her bare arms, the navy silk material of her dress that clings to every curve, her bare long legs and high-heeled sandals that bring her closer to my height.

She's more gorgeous than a sunset over water and as blinding. I kick myself for staring. “Wanted to make sure Dane sent some help for you.” I nod at the guy beside her.

“Hi, I'm Mason. The kitchen is through that door.” He turns and looks at the door as if pointing me in that direction. “And there are still some things to be unloaded from the caterer.”

“He's not here to work,” Kiley says to her fiancé. She takes an almost imperceptible step closer to me, but I see it and Moneyclip does too.

He sizes me up, trying to put a label on me. “I don't understand. Then why are you here?”

“Only to check on things. I also left an uncovered hole in the back lawn that the dog might fall into.”

“No, Westley’s not here.” Kiley takes another step toward me. “That was thoughtful of you. That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

“As long as you're here, you could make a few bucks if…” Moneyclip trails off as he looks at my face.

I rub my hand along the back of my neck instead of punching the asshole. If a guy isn't wearing a designer suit, he must be the hired help. “Mason, right? I—”

She puts a hand out and touches her man on the arm. “Could you go inside and put the wine into the wine case? We want it to stay chilled.” Kiley stares at him with raised eyebrows. “Oh, and I think I heard the doorbell. You'll want to get that.”

He hesitates for an instant, giving me a last, assessing look. Then he turns and enters the house.

She shakes her head and closes her eyes briefly. “Sorry about him. He's not happy with me right now. We were having a disagreement.” Kiley immediately blushes and I can see she regrets revealing this fact to me. She looks out at the back lawn as if searching for something to say. “It's so pretty back here. I almost wish we were having this thing outside.”

I exhale a long breath at her change of subject and give in to her need to pretend everything is normal. “It's too warm tonight. Maybe in a month or two, it will be nice…if you have another dinner party.”

She cuts a look in my direction. “I hope you're kidding. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.”

“And yet your fiancé…”

“Mmmm. Good point. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done to help me. But I need to check the food and make sure we have everything on the buffet table. So, I’ll see you when you come back Monday to do the landscaping in the front.”

“I won't be back.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was only filling in for someone,” I say. It’s not a good idea to return next week. I already want to beat her fiancé for being such a shit.

“What if I tell your boss we need you? Will he let you come back?”

“Listen. You can tell the boss, but it won't make a bit of difference. Travis is showing up on Monday.”

“But I want you.” She fidgets and looks behind her at the back door. The sounds of opening and closing doors tell me that her guests are arriving.

Lord help me. This woman is used to getting her way. Was she this spoiled in school? Probably. But I was so blinded by my crush I couldn't see it. Although I’m my own boss and can decide who works a job, I suddenly don’t want to explain why I won’t be back. I already can’t seem to stay away from her—a very engaged woman—and the more I see her, the worse it gets.

I shake my head. “I’m real sorry about that. See you around, Kiley.” My legs feel shaky as I walk away from her toward the front of the house.

A definite regret settles inside me that things can’t be different. But I'm no thief and she belongs to another man.

Besides, I like women with more substance and heart than Kiley Vanderbilt. A person who gives more than they take. I've only known two women like that in my life: my mom and my stepsister. One no longer graces this earth and the other lives in Missouri.

I get into the Jeep and pull out from the side of the garage. A woman stands next to the catering van, attempting to balance a large cardboard box and some sort of rolling cart. I stop and cut the engine.

“Ma'am? You need help?”

“Si. Por favor.”

I jog over to her and take the box.

“Drinks,” she says.

“Ah.” I wait for her to lead the way. She walks to the side entrance, a door I'd missed in my time working outside the house.

We walk down a corridor and into the kitchen. I glance around for empty counter space and place the box on the nearest empty spot next to stacks of white china, white napkins, and silver platters. I back away carefully so I won't knock into anything breakable. Jesus. You'd think this is the makings of a wedding reception.

“Gracias,” she says.

I smile at the woman and turn to leave the house, going the same way we came in. I'm walking down the short hallway when I hear Kiley's voice from somewhere. She's irate, if the barely controlled timbre of her voice is any indication.

“You called my dad and lied,” she says. “I never agreed to quit the show. You made the choice to—”

Moneyclip interrupts her. “I think you need to start acting like the wife of an attorney. That's all.”

They both come into sight from a doorway in front of me. Kiley walks in front, her head down and studying the floor.

“Maybe I shouldn't get married to an asshole attorney,” she mumbles.

“What did you say?” Moneyclip grabs her arm from behind.

My heart pounds in my ears, my temper riled by what I've seen and heard. I cannot tear my gaze from his hand on her arm. If there’s one thing I won’t stand for, it’s Moneyclip laying his hands on her.

Kiley's gaze flicks up and she sees me. Her face flushes and she gives a confused smile. “Oh. Gunner. What are you still doing here? Are you looking for me?”

“No. I helped your caterer carry a box to the kitchen.”

Moneyclip steps to her side. “Thank you,” he says with a fake pleasant look on his face. “You know the way out?”

What a dick. If he thinks he can dismiss me so easily, he's wrong. “Everything OK here?” I look at Kiley as if we are the only two people in the hallway.

She furrows her brow. “Sure. Only having a little disagreement.”

Her fiancé's mouth twists. “I believe this is private. We don't require your help for anything else.” He drops his hand from her arm.

“Kiley?” I still ignore him.

“I'm fine,” she says. Her tremulous smile, only a tipping at the corner of her mouth, does crazy things to my instincts. She's not fine.

I nod. “If you say so.”

My footsteps slow in the distance to the side door. It's not as though I belong here, lurking in her house, but I don't want to leave.

I strain to hear their conversation, but I can only tell her voice from his. Turning around, I pause and stare toward the kitchen area where the voices are. Their volume increases or maybe I've stepped closer without realizing it.

“Say that to me one more time. I dare you,” Kiley says.

“You’re used to being a daddy’s girl, and you're throwing a tantrum at the wrong time,” he says. “You’re spoiled and don’t know what’s best for you.”

“Don’t you ever speak to me that way again.” There's no mistaking Kiley's words, but now her voice lowers. “I want to talk about us. I think we’ve made a mistake. We want different things in life.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Moneyclip says. “Honey, you’re not that bright. You’re on your daddy’s show only because of who you are. What happens after Forever ends? Next season, you’re out. It’s not like you have a future in television. I’m not going to put up with this crazy talk. You pick now when we have a house full of the people who matter—”

“Do you think I care about those people? We’re talking about the rest of our lives here,” she says. “Get your hand—”

I don't need to hear more. I stride away from the back door and toward the kitchen. When I turn the corner and see them, his hand grips her upper arm. Again.

Holy shit. “Take your hand off her,” I say only inches from both of them.

“How did you get back in?” He releases her. “I suggest you turn around and leave before I make sure you're off this property.”

“He's not leaving.” Kiley rubs her arm where he grabbed her.

“What? Something is going on here. Kiley, have you been messing around with the lawn boy?”

She doesn’t respond, her face surprised and ashen at the accusation.

Moneyclip misinterprets her expression of shock. “I know you’re stupid, but I didn’t peg you for a cheater. You cunt. I should’ve known, since you put out anytime, anywhere.”

The surprise is gone from her face. She shoves him in the chest. “You stuck-up, small-penised bastard,” she screams, loud enough to be heard two counties over.

If I weren't so pissed, I'd laugh my ass off. The guests in the house heard that one. There's a moment when I consider the consequences of my next words. Oh, what the hell. “She hasn't done anything with me. Yet.” My lips part in cocky smile that says I certainly know how to please a woman. “After tonight, I'm thinking I might be able to persuade her.”

He lunges toward me, his right hand balling into a fist. Before his elbow lifts, I step forward with an uppercut and his teeth click together with a sickening pop. He falls back three steps and his body hits the kitchen counter.

“No!” Kiley inserts herself between us. She grabs my hand and yanks. “Come on. Please.” She pulls at me. Her hand is small in mine.

I search her face, trying to figure out what I should do about the mess I've made.

“You’d better leave before I call the police.” Mason pushes away from the counter.

“Take me away from here.” She tugs once more and we're running through the back of the house and out the door. Her shoes make clipping sounds as they hit tile and then brick.

I turn and the guy still isn't following us. What kind of idiot would take a punch and then let a guy leave with his woman, the one he had planned to marry? “What about your guests?”

“I didn't invite them. He can deal with dinner.” She tugs at my hand again. We're at the edge of the grass and she takes off her heels. “Where's your vehicle?”

I point. “Beside your garage.” I'm not sure what to think about the way she's holding my hand as if she's afraid to let go.

“Hurry. Before I chicken out.” She does let go now and runs faster than I'd thought she'd be able to in a dress.

Her long hair streams out behind her in the moment before I move. Then I'm chasing after her to the Jeep.

She stands beside the vehicle in her dress, those high-heeled shoes dangling in one hand and her other hand on the sidebar. I grin and grab her by the waist so I can lift her into the passenger side.

She settles into her seat and the dress rides high on her thighs. I'm glued to the expanse of tan skin. She lifts one perfect eyebrow brow. “You coming?”

“You bet.” I run around to my side and hop into the driver’s seat. My grin makes the corners of my mouth hurt. How long have I been smiling?

I glance sidelong at the woman beside me—a rich girl with no idea of the mess she’s making for me. Her dad has a good head on his shoulders, but he’ll likely fire me for running off with his daughter during a swanky dinner party. I work hard for a solid reputation in my landscaping business. I would hate to lose Ed’s respect more than the fact that I could lose his business.

But if Ed Vanderbilt thinks I could persuade his daughter to do anything she doesn’t want to do, then he doesn’t know Kiley.

“You sure about this?” I ask.

She widens her eyes and laughs. “You have no idea. I’m one hundred and fifty percent sure.”

I start the engine and drive straight over the lawn and around the cars parked in the driveway. It’s a long, paved drive to the highway, and we pass the hole I dug the other day and had to refill at her orders. I stop at the end. “Where are we going?”

She looks panicked for a second. Then she regains her composure. “Drive to your favorite place. Where is that?”

Is there such a place? My initial instinct is to respond that I don’t have a favorite. I love being under the open sky, and I’m a total blank on where to take her.

Then it hits me. I take a quick left turn, almost as if I should hurry before she thinks better of leaving with me. The tires protest at the acceleration from zero.

When I look across at her, she’s smiling as widely as I am. My heart stutters for an instant, forgetting to beat. I look back to the road and pray I won’t regret this.

Because Kiley choosing to be with me instead of placating her fiancé—even if he’s an asshole and it’s only for this night—is too good to be true. And all really good things don’t last.