“Mother?” I twist the stubborn doorknob of her house and enter, putting Ryder on his feet. Her house is an old Craftsman, identical to mine in look and layout. Neither of us owns our houses, but renting isn’t bad and at least we are neighbors.

I drop the bag of Ryder’s stuff on the floor and stretch my arms, stiff from carrying a three-year-old and a heavy bag across the lawns.

“Happy New Year.” Mom pads into the room wearing her slippers and robe. She holds out her arms to Ryder. “Come to Grandma.”

Ryder tumbles into her embrace. He snuggles his nose into her neck, and she swings him up and makes a squealing sound that he loves. She lowers her lips and makes smacking sounds against his cheek.

I shake my head at her. “You have to quit picking him up. He’s getting too heavy.”

“Did you carry him across?”

“Well yes, but I’m younger than you are.” She doesn’t have to know that he’s killing my back.

“You stop and I’ll stop,” she says and carries him on her hip into the kitchen. The smell of brewing coffee tempts me to stay awhile. But getting ready with Ryder is always a challenge and never leaves me extra time in the mornings.

“I’m serving breakfast at Angel’s so I’d better head out.” I check the clock. Five-thirty a.m. I linger for a minute, watching them together. “Ryder, be good and I’ll see you later.”

“No,” he says and smirks at me. This is a standard answer for him.

“Yes.” I run over to him and rub his bedhead. Chocolate curls sprout in disarray around his angelic face.

Mom grabs herself a coffee cup from the cupboard. “I forgot to ask if you had a good time last night. Did your concert go well?”

“I wouldn’t call it a concert. I told you. I was stepping in for their lead singer at a bar downtown. Anyway, yeah. It was fine.”

Fine. So fine, I dreamed of gray-eyed Aiden Alesini and his lips and his hands. The way his eyes glittered and locked on me like he wanted me. But not just that. It was the timbre of his voice making everything he said so musical.

And the way he loves his grandmother. Who wouldn’t want that depth of affection directed at her?

This morning, I considered calling the hospital to check on Nonna. It was a stupid thought. They don’t give health updates to strangers.

Mama pours her coffee and takes a quick sip. “Oh good. Don’t worry about me and Ryder. I love the days when you let me have him. We’ll see you later. Oh, wait. Did Jared call again about his visitation with Ryder? Did you two work out a schedule?”

Ryder’s sharp gaze meets mine. Is he watching for my reaction? Does he sense my distrust? I try so hard to hide it.

“I haven’t heard from Jared,” I say evenly. “He’s still on tour. When he comes home—if he comes home—he can see his son.”

Jared. So unreliable, except when it comes to his fans.

Tugging my knit cap down, I turn and head out for the day. My drive to Angel’s Haven takes ten minutes. Traffic is non-existent. With all the businesses closed and partygoers sleeping late, it’s a virtual ghost town and I’m able to park a lot closer than I normally do.

A year ago, I signed up to volunteer at the shelter. I’d started to go a little stir-crazy and it gave me something special to do away from Ryder for one day a week.

I close my eyes and inhale the smell of baking bread—glorious Angel’s Haven bread and the special secret recipe rolls that are my favorite.

Four men, regulars at the shelter, come forward and pick up plastic trays at the end of the serving table. I unwrap foil from stacks of pancakes.

I hum to myself while wiping down the sticky syrup containers. Ralphie, a Vietnam War vet and client who flirts with me relentlessly, saunters to the serving side of the table beside me.

“Good morning, beautiful. You look tired today,” he says.

“A little. Stayed up too late.” I put the blueberry syrup down and pick up the maple. I wipe down the glass container. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m doing mighty fine. I stayed up late, too. Midnight so I could watch the ball drop. They kept the TV room unlocked until 1:00. The warden decided to go easy on the inmates,” he teases.

I smile at him. “Is that right? That’s terrific. Everyone should see the New Year begin.” Without warning, an image of tall, dark, and hot Aiden pops into my brain.

The way he’d focused on my mouth as he leaned in, that heat in his eyes, a slight smile curving his lips. And the press of his lips against mine, so warm and firm. That kiss jump-started my heart, making my body throb from a need for more.

Lordy. I could get pregnant from the pure bliss of that kiss.

And then the way he’d rushed to the stage like some superhero, carrying a baseball bat of all things. A shiver slides down my spine and threatens to loop around to my lady parts.

I shake my head. Time to get my thoughts out of the never-never land meant for naive girls. It doesn’t matter if he has eyes that can see into my soul and an unintentional swagger that tells me I’m more than just a mom.

First the dreams and now while I’m awake. That man needs to get out of my head. I blame my active imagination on the fantasy of being his fiancée for Nonna’s sake.

I come back to reality when Ralphie links his arm around my waist and hugs me tightly. I disengage his arm. He sticks out his bottom lip like Ryder does when he doesn’t get his way.

All the volunteers know the rules. Professional behavior at all times. The fine line between friendly and familiar is often a difficult one to maneuver. It feels sort of like walking on ice in spiked heels.

You risk falling and busting your ass.

“You should get your breakfast before things get cold,” I say in a friendly tone.

“You should get yourself a man so you don’t have to boss me around.” He’s gone from flirty to pissy to a millisecond.

“I volunteer,” says a deep voice. Aiden stands on the opposite side of the table, looking fresh and rested except for the puffy eye.

Some guys are handsome, some adorable. Aiden? He’s beautiful. His gray eyes—almost silver in the sunlight—pierce me with a mind-reading intensity.

He flashes me one of his wide smiles, and my knees knock together.

No, no, I tell myself in my best authoritative mother’s command I use on Ryder. But I’m sick of that boring voice in my head.

Ralphie, who still stands with me, steps closer. Not touching, but entirely in my personal space. I want to tell him to back off, but I also don’t want to embarrass him in front of Aiden.

“Are you the one who kept my girl up late?” Ralphie narrows his eyes at Aiden. All I need to ruin this fine New Year’s Day is a fistfight between a seventy-year-old man and the guy who already has one black eye.

I smile. “Ralphie, this is Aiden. Aiden, meet Ralphie. Ralphie, sorry to ask, but can you go ask those ladies at the far table if they need anything? I think some of the volunteers slept in today, and we’re short.”

Ralphie presses his lips together. He knows I am getting rid of him.

“Anything for you, dear,” Ralphie says in a grumbling voice. He pushes up the sleeves on his flannel shirt as if he’s getting ready for some serious work. “He’d better keep his hands to himself. He’s trouble. Look at that black eye. He didn’t give that to himself.” He takes his time walking away, glancing back once as if to catch Aiden doing something he shouldn’t.

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Isn’t he a little old for you?” Aiden raises an eyebrow and grins. “I’m here to volunteer.” He rubs his hands along his thighs, then claps his hands together. “Put me to work.”

“It’s not that easy. There’s an approval process for volunteers.” I widen my eyes as he walks around to my side of the table.

“You’ll vouch for me.”

“I don’t even know you.” I huff as my gaze roams from his face to his broad shoulders and trim waist. He removes his coat. The cotton fabric of his short sleeved T-shirt with ‘Evolutions’ written across the front stretches across his pecs. A tattoo sleeve covers one arm.

Hello biceps.

Did he have those last night? I remember he wore a long-sleeved Dastardly Bastard’s shirt. Between his sexy flirting and hot body, he’s my bad decision waiting to happen.

But I can’t make wrong moves. I have someone else’s future to worry about and Ryder comes first. Always.

“How’s Nonna?” I hand a plate of pancakes to a female client who stares at Aiden. I get that. Looking never hurt anyone.

Get in line, lady. I was here first.

“She’s better,” he says. “The doctor won’t release her yet. He’s running some tests on her heart this morning. I’ll go back when her tests are done this afternoon.”

“That sounds like great news, right?”

“Yeah. I think so. Unless the tests come back with bad news.” His brow wrinkles and he scrubs a hand along the back of his neck. “But you saw her. She’s not a quitter.”

Phoebe, the manager of Angel’s Haven, strolls toward us. It would be difficult to pick her out as manager, with her wearing her jeans and T-shirt. “Good morning. How can we help you, sir?” Her dress is casual, but her tone is all business.

He doesn’t hesitate. He sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Aiden, your newest volunteer…as soon as I fill out the paperwork Makenna’s told me about.” He gives her an even bigger smile than he gave me in greeting.

“Any friend of Makenna’s is a friend to us.” Phoebe slips her hand into his for a shake. “We’re shorthanded this morning. I suppose some volunteers forgot to set their alarms. We’ll skip the paperwork for now and get it later.”

I shoot Phoebe a disapproving look, but she fails to even turn her gaze to me.

“Aiden,” Phoebe says. “I need help with some food boxes on the loading dock. You don’t have any back issues I should know about?”

“No, ma’am. You need something lifted? I’m your man.”

“Come with me. We’ll do one paper—a release of liability.” She looks him up and down, then winks. “In case we strain those muscles. You can sign the rest later.”

I shake my head in disbelief. Really? Oh, come on Phoebe. Quit calling attention to things I want to put out of my mind.

I need to get back to work. He is in my way. I didn’t come into Angel’s Haven with the purpose of getting all hot and bothered.

Aiden follows her to the kitchen, and I fight the urge to watch him go.

I don’t see him for the rest of the morning. I guess that Phoebe finds other tasks for him that kept him out of sight. Good. I don’t need to look at him.

Because I know without a doubt that my resolve to be disinterested might melt like snow on a sunny day if I spend any more time with him.

Phoebe has done me a favor without even knowing it.

* * *

At eight o’clock, I step outside to call Jared. He answers on the first ring as if waiting on my call.

“Hi Mak,” he says.

“Hey. I thought you were coming to get Ryder this morning.”

“Things ran late. We got off the tour bus at 1:00. I’m really sorry. I’ll get him tomorrow.”

I stand straighter, remembering my vow to lay down Mak’s law. “Yeah. About that. I said you could have him today. That meant today. We have a schedule.”

“I’m dying to see him. I bet he’s grown. Do you realize what my boy means to me? It’s killing me that I’m not around.”

A pang of guilt momentarily slices into my conscience. I brush it aside. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not going to make me feel bad—”

“I’m not. I know why you did what you did. It was a mistake to marry Nina. If I had known you were pregnant with my son—”

My heart seizes in my chest. I can’t breathe and I sure as hell don’t want him to know this topic still hurts. I inhale through my nose and smile as if his words don’t mean a thing to me. “But we can’t go back. It’s water under the bridge.”

He sighs into the phone. “I’ve missed two years of Ryder’s life. I should’ve divorced Nina a long time ago. We could’ve made it work. I’m taking advantage of every minute you’ll give me.”

My throat tightens and tears well in my eyes. “There is no ‘we’ in this situation. If you want to build a relationship with Ryder, that’s good. But you have to stick to the schedule or call and let me know ahead of time. I understand that you’re on tour and your schedule is crazy, but he’s going to get older and know the schedule. He’ll know that he doesn’t come first.”

“I know.” The line beeps. “Just a second. Can you hold on?”

He doesn’t wait for my response and he clicks over to the other call. I exhale and sing to myself while I wait.

He clicks back to me. “Mak? I need to go. I’ll make it up to him. Tomorrow. Please.”

“OK. Tomorrow. Pick him up early.” With trembling hands, I pocket my cell. Talking with Jared always does this to me. The easy relationship I had with him years ago seems to have occurred in another lifetime.

When lunchtime finally arrives, another volunteer comes to take my place in the dining room so I can take a break. I head toward the exit, needing fresh air and some time to myself.

“Hey, wait up.” Aiden strides across to meet me at the door.

“How did you know I’m on break?”

He gives me a wolfish grin. “I begged Phoebe to let me take my break with you.”

“Begged, huh.” I shake my head. He’s incorrigible. Like Ryder with an agenda for more cookies. And this guy possesses loads of charm with a face that probably earns him an entourage everywhere. He certainly knows how to sway the ladies, as he’s proven with Phoebe.

He takes a step closer. “Yeah. I thought I’d take you to lunch. I have a favor to ask involving Nonna and her thinking we’re engaged.”

I push through one side of the double door. Engaged? I’d almost forgotten about Nonna’s misunderstanding. “Oh? You’re not going to suggest we get married, are you?” My heart does a funny leap against my breastbone and I take a deep breath. Of course, he’s not. I laugh at myself.

“Maybe we can grab a bite somewhere else? Ralphie seems to be a little possessive of you.” He follows me outside, then strides ahead of me and pivots. He takes several steps while walking backward, stumbles a little and I reach out quick to grab his arm.

“OK. Lunch. There’s a food truck that parks a block over in a vacant lot. Morty’s Subs.” I lead the way and don’t say anything for a block. “You always get your way with the girls you meet?”

“Yes.” He tucks his hands into his jeans pockets and gives me a sidelong glance through his lashes. “Because I’m determined.”

We turn the corner and stroll toward the vacant lot where Morty parks his food truck. I sneak a glance at Aiden. He smiles a lot, even when doing something as mundane as walking.

And though he wears his coat again, it’s unbuttoned and his shirt pulls across his chest. My hands itch to go walking across the tight material.

He accidentally passes me with his long strides and I find myself studying his ass. Muscular thighs that fill out his jeans.

This is bad. Very bad.

Relief fills me when I see the food truck. During weekdays, customers wait from the window all the way down the street. Since today is a holiday and lots of offices are closed, no one stands in line.

“Hi there Sweetheart.” Morty leans onto the window frame. His white apron looks clean and pressed, not a good sign. He needs to make some sales so it will be worth opening up shop today.

“Hey. Can we get a couple of sandwiches?” I study the menu posted in the window.

“Sure. You want your usual?”

I nod and look at Aiden. “Yes. And can I have extra tomato?”

“Extra anything you want,” Morty answers.

“What’s your pick?” I ask Aiden. “I’m buying.”

“No way. I can’t let you buy my lunch.” He smirks as if I’ve said something crazy.

“Well, OK. Dutch it is.” I hand Morty a twenty. “If someone hungry passes by, please serve him a sandwich on me.”

“You’re the boss.” Morty takes the bill and sticks it inside his register. “And you?” he asks Aiden.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having.” He removes his wallet from his back pocket. “Morty, is this woman always so stubborn?”

Morty takes the money and hands Aiden his change. “Ever since I met her. But she’s a good one. Always paying it forward. They’ll be right up.”

Morty leaves the window and I make a point of checking the time on my phone. “So what’s this favor?” I ask.

Aiden leans against the side of the truck. “Do you always get straight to the point?”

“Yes,” I study Morty’s truck menu, even though I have it memorized. It’s either that or stare at Aiden and try not to drool.

“My grandmother raised me after my father died. That woman means the world to me and what you did in the hospital—pretending to be my fiancée—that meant a lot. Did you see her face? You gave her the will to live.”

I fidget uncomfortably, tucking my hands into my jeans pockets. I want to ask about his mother, but it’s not the sort of thing you ask strangers. “It was nothing. She seems nice and you care about her. I know how important family is.”

“Here’s my problem. Last night, the nurse said Nonna will be listed under Critical Care until she stabilizes.”

“Oh. I hope she’ll be better soon.” My throat tightens. I know what it’s like to lose someone. To feel the void that person leaves behind.

“I’m going to ask you to do something huge. I’ve no right to ask this of someone I don’t know, but I don’t feel like you’re a stranger. If Nonna weren’t…” Aiden rubs a hand over his forehead.

“Ask. What is it?”

“Could you come back to the hospital with me to see her? As my fiancée? It’s the woman’s dying wish and I can’t see myself breaking her heart.”

My eyes grow wide. “You’re kidding. You want me to lie to her?”

“Lie? It’s a simple misunderstanding and one for a good cause. I’ll tell her the truth if she pulls out of this and gets released. If Nonna doesn’t make it, she dies a happy woman.”

Dies. She’s the only family he has in the world. My skin feels prickly and my chest aches for him. If I didn’t have Ryder and Mama, I’d be alone. How could I bear it? I’d do anything for either one of them. I’d beg, borrow, or steal. A temporary lie seems harmless compared to what I’d do. Without a doubt.

The deli truck window slides open and Morty sticks his head through. “Order up.”

Aiden takes both white takeout bags from the ledge. “Thanks, we appreciate it.”

“Bye, Morty,” I say.

“See ya,” he answers and disappears into the depths of his truck.

Aiden walks beside me, giving me sidelong looks the entire way as if I’ll make a run for it and break free of his request.

“Quit looking so hopeful,” I say and watch a limousine slowly pass us on the street. “You’re really asking a lot.”

“I know. But I also think you know it’s important or I wouldn’t ask.”

That’s not the only reason he’s asking. He trusts me on some level with one of the most precious things in his life—his Nonna. And even though I shouldn’t get involved—because he’s going to be personally hard to resist—I can’t say ‘no.’

“So, fiancée,” I raise one eyebrow. “We visit her and I hope she doesn’t ask me something that gives us away. Right?”

He chuckles at me as if I’m trying to be cute. “We can go over a few things and get to know each other. Believe me, she’s so excited about you that she won’t notice anything is off. You’ll be lucky if she lets you talk.”

“And how do we get to know each other in the five minutes we have before we get back to the shelter?”

“I ask you a question. Then you give me an answer. We take turns doing this until we know everything there is to know. Let’s begin with what you do.”

I snort. “I’ve been a volunteer here at Angel’s for a year. Maybe a little longer. I write songs and sell them. I’ve had some lucky breaks, so it pays the bills. I take care of Ryder. End of story.”

He gives me an easy smile. “Now, me. I’m a fitness trainer at Evolutions,” he says. “I take on private clients as well. I’m saving money to start my own business and looking for investors. I spend my free time training for triathlons.”

I’ve never met anyone quite like Aiden. He seems different. Driven. Decisive. Not drifting along on a tide of creative bliss or hoping to figure out what to do in life.

“Tell me more about Ryder,” he says.

For some reason, I don’t expect the question. Most people ask about my songwriting and which songs are mine. They ask if I have hits done by famous people.

Most people ask about Jared if they realize I know him.

“Ryder.” I tuck my head down and can’t stop the grin tugging at my mouth. That kid is my savior and my heart beats for him. “He’s sweet and stubborn. He likes to wake to the sound of his favorite television shows. He loves doing things with his hands—building blocks, coloring, car tracks. And he’s so dang smart. He does things way beyond what the books say a three-year-old should be able to do.”

My face grows hot. I’ve gotten carried away talking. I peer at him to see if he looks bored. There is that smile again.

“Is he musical like you?” he asks.

I laugh. “He sings a lot. Sometimes he sings words that don’t make sense, but yes, I guess he is.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. With you as his mom, musical talent is in his genes.”

“Well, thanks.” I falter, not knowing how to do this. I haven’t had anyone interested in what I have to say for a long time.

We walk in silence back to Angel’s Haven. Once inside, I lead the way to the breakroom in the back. It’s actually an oversize storage area with a portable card table pushed against one wall. We sit across from each other and unpack our lunches from Morty’s truck.

The buzz of an overhead florescent light serves as background noise to the sounds of rustling foil and paper. Some female laughter causes me to look toward the door. “Spirits are high today. Sometimes, it’s sad around here during the holidays.”

“That’s understandable.” Aiden nods and bites into his meatball sandwich. He finishes chewing and grins. “My spirits are good. I just got engaged.”

I take a bite of my food and shake my head at him.

“I owe you,” he mutters and opens a package of catsup. “When can you go with me to visit? Tonight?”

“I can’t,” I answer. “I work here all day and then I’ll have Ryder tonight. I don’t think I should bring him. I’ll ask my mom if she’ll babysit. Maybe tomorrow night? Send me a text and we can arrange a time.”

Grabbing a napkin and a pen, I jot down my number. “Here you go.”

He pushes his catsup to the middle to share and I drag a french fry through it. Capturing my hand, he bends toward me. “OK. That’ll be great. I’m serious. I owe you big time. Anything you need or want, ask and it’s yours. I mean anything.”

You. I’d love to have a sweet guy like you to call my own. Someone to talk with about my day. Someone who would make me feel wanted. Someone to kiss.

The thought makes me catch my breath. When I was a kid—before Daddy died—I thought all things were possible. But that was a long time ago. I bury the dark thoughts in those recesses of my mind I never visit.

For today, I’ll pretend he’s mine and I am his. A harmless ruse, only to protect the failing heart of his little old grandma.