Cynthia couldn’t help laughing at the rapid-fire changes in Noah’s expression. It went from disbelief to confusion, back to disbelief, and then settled on a knowing gleam of humor. Everything but the last had been because of her crazy family.

“It’ll be really good. You’ll love it,” Cynthia said, grinning for all she was worth.

He shook his head slowly, his eyes changing as he looked at her. Darkening. Turning hungry while retaining the softness she’d seen in them earlier.

She tried to ignore the flip-flopping of her belly, the sudden perspiration and her need to reach out and touch him. Ellen was in the room, and her anger was palpable. There was a reason for that. Something Cynthia should use as a cautionary tale.

But dang, that kiss had been out of this world. Easily the best kiss she’d ever had. Wild and unruly and out of control. So hot. So full of passion.

No wonder Noah’s kisses were gateways. It was taking everything she had not to drag him up to her room and go for it again. Why did he have to be so sexy?

“That was the secret item, wasn’t it?” he asked softly.

“Surprise,” she whispered, finally taking his phone. “What am I looking at?”

“Shall I set a place for you, Noah?” Cynthia’s mom asked, laying it on really thick. She was the world’s worst matchmaker. Except she’d gotten something right…

“Yes, please, that would be great. You know me, I can’t pass up store-bought pecan pie.” Noah reached between Cynthia’s fingers and entered his code. “Don’t tell anybody that number.”

“1-4-5-6-3-9? Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Oh wow,” she said as the picture came up.

“I’ll have Cynthia call you with the dinner time, in case you can make it before dessert,” Tamie said. “Any time at all, just come on over. Make sure to give her your number so she can call.”

“And the subtlety keeps on coming,” Cynthia murmured. If Noah wasn’t being such a good sport about it, the whole situation would be extremely embarrassing. “This is a really cool picture. Is that a wall? Is it…street art?”

“Yes. Do you remember Colton?” Noah asked.

“You still talk to Colton?” Ellen rolled her eyes. “Birds of a feather.”

“Ellen, can you help me for a moment?” Tera said, heading out of the kitchen.

“With wha—”

Tera grabbed Ellen’s arm and pulled. “It has to do with the kids. C’mon.”

“Yes. And I’ll just… I need to see about the turkey.” Tamie ticked the air with her finger, as if tapping a list. “Yes, I better call to make sure everything will be delivered on time. Bessie, you can help.”

“I’m fine right— Let go. Stop that.” Aunt Bessie waved Cynthia’s mom away, but it did no good. Tamie was already wheeling her out of the kitchen.

Cynthia sagged against the counter. “And yet I got the talking-to for being weird.” She sighed, looking at the picture on Noah’s phone. “This is so good. I love it. It’s familiar somehow, but I can’t place it. What were you saying about Colton? He was the really ho— I mean, the nice-looking gentleman with blue eyes, right? Tall. Large shoulders. Good bo— Athletic?”

He frowned at her. “Colton, yeah.” Noah briefly told her about his friend’s upcoming launch of a large funland-type setup with a mini-golf course and a bunch of other stuff.

“Sounds great.” She handed the phone back and took a step away. She didn’t trust herself to be too close. If she wasn’t careful, she’d go in for another kiss, the likely outcome be damned. “Hey, listen, you obviously don’t have to come tomorrow. With Uncle Art and Aunt Bessie at the table, plus a few of the others, it won’t be a good time.”

“I’m sure I’ll need a break from my own family by then.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and stepped closer. She stepped away. “I’ll make sure to be stuffed by the time dessert rolls around.”

“It won’t matter. You’ll have to eat some. You’ve really backed yourself into a corner on that one.”

“Ah, but you’ll have to eat it, too. You know, because you guys eat it all the time. That means you must love it.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate, but he was right. “Crap.” She laughed. “I ensnared myself with my own joke.”

“Amateur,” he said softly, taking another step closer.

Her stomach flipped for the millionth time. Her perspiration issue was in full force. She looked up into his eyes, her butt now backed up against the cabinet, nowhere to go. Part of her didn’t want to go anywhere, but the rest of her—the scared part—wanted to be anywhere else. His sweet breath showered her face. Electricity filled the air between their bodies, giving her goosebumps.

“Yup. That’s how it starts,” Ellen said. Cynthia jumped, startled. Ellen had returned to her former position, standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, glaring at Noah. “I’m married now, with two kids, thanks for asking, Noah. It was really fun catching up. I’m so glad you asked me to, rather than spending all your time with my younger, single sister.”

“Wow, Ellen. You really know how to welcome in a blast from your past.” Cynthia pushed Noah’s arm to turn him toward the back door. “Real friendly.”

“If you keep going on like this, you’ll see,” Ellen said. “Then it’ll be me making fun of you.”

Cynthia opened the door and stepped out, greeted by the chilly air. “Sorry about that,” she said, but Ellen’s words, so similar to her own thoughts, stung. That’s how it starts. The kiss, the leaning, the long looks—apparently it was a seduction technique he had perfected. And she was falling for it hook, line, and sinker, even though she had sworn she wouldn’t.

What an absolute mess.

“Do you want to go to the swings again?” Noah asked.

Cynthia stopped just outside of the door, staring at the rosebushes, thinking about where she was in life. She blew out a breath. She needed to use her head for once. “You know what…I think I might just hang out here, if that’s cool.”

Surprise flitted across his face. “Cynthia, look, about Ellen—”

Cynthia held up her hand. “It’s cool. I was around for all that. It’s fine. But I’m exhausted, and I really need to spend some time working on my job situation. You know, the ‘not having one’ part. People might not be hiring now, but I can still do some research. As fun as it is around here, I don’t want to be here forever.” She smiled, trying to ease the sting.

He nodded slowly, shifting a little on his feet. “Sure. Have a good night, okay? Oh, and…here.” He handed over his phone. “Put your number in there.” When she hesitated, he said, “Your mother said so.”

“Do you want me to pretend I don’t know the code, or…”

“I watch porn in a private browser. I’m good. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Yikes. TMI.”

He laughed. “Kidding.”

“You’re totally not,” she muttered, having a hot flash. She definitely needed to get back inside. Alone. She tapped in her number, pressed the call button, and then hung up. “I have your number, too, so I’ll text you tomorrow with whatever my mother tells me to send. While she hovers over me to make sure I do it right, of course.”

“Awesome. I’ll get the text, read it, and then answer, all while enjoying my privacy.”

“Yup. Great. Rub it in.”

He laughed, but then his eyes took on a familiar intensity. Her middle turned to mush, and the ache between her thighs begged her to step forward and end the torture.

“Bye,” she said, turning around quickly and stepping toward the door. Her foot hit a loose rock, the dang decorative ones that Aunt Bessie had kicked up with her wheelchair last night when she’d tried to escape with butter. Cynthia tilted off balance. She had time for a swear word before she fell. Her face smacked into the decorative glass of the door; her shoulder hit the wood of the frame. She started to slide down the surface.

“Uh oh. I gotcha.” Strong hands grabbed under her pits.

“No, no, no!” She tried to twist away, realizing that she’d rather fall than bear the embarrassment of revealing her sweating problem to him. He was too strong, though, and he hefted her up.

Seriously? Who grabbed falling women by their armpits?

“I’m good,” she said, struggling away. “Sorry…about the…” Oh dear God, it was just getting worse. “So I’ll just…” She turned the door handle, her face burning and her pride long gone. So much for a quick exit. With a final “Thanks, sorry,” she shut the door behind her, breathing heavily.

“Don’t trust him, Cynthia,” Ellen said.

Cynthia jumped. The last thing she’d expected was for Ellen to hang around like a poltergeist.

“Don’t trust him,” her sister said again. “He’s not the type of guy that can be tied down. Do you know how many actual girlfriends he had throughout all of high school?”

Cynthia exhaled all the breath from her lungs, emotionally exhausted. “No. And I don’t care.”

“Three. That’s it. The rest of the time he spent playing the field.”

Cynthia frowned. “Oh. I didn’t think he’d had any.”

“He practically didn’t. He only had three.”

“Well…that was one more than me.”

“That’s different. You couldn’t get a guy. He could get any girl he wanted.”

“Don’t break it to me gently, Ellen, it’ll be too mushy.” Cynthia slouched as she walked toward the kitchen entrance. “Did he cheat on the girlfriends?”

A crease formed between Ellen’s over-tweezed brows. “Not like he had the time. He was only with them for a short while. The longest relationship was only a year, and that was in tenth grade.”

“Number one, any amount of time is long enough to cheat. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to tell you that. And number two, my longest relationship in high school was eight months, and that was in ninth grade. So this chat isn’t exactly stroking my ego.”

“He screwed around a lot, Cynthia.”

“So did you, Ellen. So did I, but it was in college when guys stopped laughing at me and trying to throw me in trash cans.”

“Are you hearing what I’m telling you? He’s a slut. He’s bad news. You need to steer clear.”

“Awesome. Good pep talk.” Cynthia walked past her sister, strung out and tired of fighting the pull of Noah. Even now, she felt a tug in her middle, urging her to run after him and cling to his side. It wasn’t just the phenomenal kiss. This had started on their other visit to the grocery store, the one where she’d literally run into him. With each moment since, the need to be near him had magnified, and she suspected it would continue to do so.

“I’m in an awful fix,” she muttered to herself as she walked through the house, heading toward her room.

“Sometimes—”

Cynthia jumped for the second time in five minutes, only then seeing Aunt Bessie loitering in the shadow of the stairs.

“—it is our perceptions that are the problem.”

Cynthia stared at her aunt, sitting still in a random place in the house, poised to jump-scare anyone passing by.

It wasn’t just Cynthia’s perception that Aunt Bessie was batshit crazy—that was really happening.

“Thanks, Aunt Bessie,” Cynthia mumbled, continuing up the stairs.

“Often, the risk is worth the reward,” Aunt Bessie called after her. “Wait until tomorrow, then seize the day!”