I slept late the next morning. I'd fallen asleep with the scent of Sophie in my nose, sweet and sultry and out of reach. Just being near her was soothing. She had an inner calm, a strength about her, beneath the gentle exterior. When I was with her, something deep inside me relaxed, even as other parts of me came to life. The sound of her voice eased my mind, but being near her woke my body.

I was starting to love that shapeless, bulky, cotton robe. It showed absolutely nothing, but when I'd pulled her against me, and those soft breasts had pillowed against my chest, it had taken every ounce of restraint I possessed to content myself with stroking my fingers down her arm. She probably knew I'd wanted to kiss her. Any other woman and I might have.

I wasn't sure if I held back because I was afraid to scare her off, or because I didn't want to take advantage of a woman who was essentially an employee in my home. I hadn't hired her, Aiden had. Still, it was a fine and fuzzy line, one I was sure Sophie was acutely aware of. I'd meant what I said. She was safe in Winters House. Safe with me.

I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to strip off that robe and get my hands all over the soft curves beneath. The flush in her cheeks when I'd pulled her to me, the way her breath caught in her chest—I wanted that. I wanted more. I just had to figure out how to swing it.

It felt good to have a project aside from getting my life back in order. I couldn't remember the last time I’d been this interested in a woman. In getting laid, sure. Who wasn't interested in getting laid? This wasn’t so simple. I didn't just want to fuck Sophie and leave her. For one thing, we were living in the same house. A one night stand was essentially impossible. And, not to knock anonymous sex, because anonymous sex could be great, but Sophie was more than that.

Just the sound of her voice was enough to calm something inside me I couldn't reach myself. I wanted her in bed, no question, but almost as much as that, I simply wanted to be with her.

When had I ever wanted conversation with a woman almost as much as I wanted to fuck her?

The last thing I needed was one more problem to solve, but the challenge of Sophie felt less like a burden and more like a puzzle. I could be patient, but I would figure her out.

I already knew she was skittish about men after her marriage. It was probably for the best that she hadn't wanted to talk about it. I needed some time to get used to the idea that she'd been married to a man who had, at the least, left her so tied up in knots she couldn't sleep.

How he'd done that… I'd find out from her eventually. I wasn't going to push. There wasn't any doubt in my mind that he'd hurt her, one way or another. There'd been such relief in her eyes when she told me he was dead, it had been a punch to the gut. I'd take my time with Sophie, give her the space she needed, but she’d decide she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I refused to doubt that.

I took a quick shower and jogged down the stairs. With her exceptional radar, Mrs. W met me in the front hall, a regretful expression on her face as she informed me that I'd missed breakfast, and Abel, the cook, was out at the market.

I started to shrug and reassure her I could wait until lunch when she said she’d just served tea and a snack in the living room for Sophie and Aunt Amelia.

I shot Mrs. W a grin that had her smiling back before I turned to the open double doors of the formal living room. Voices came from inside, Sophie's and Amelia's. No one else.

A quick check over my shoulder told me that Mrs. W had disappeared, leaving me alone in the front hall. A furtive glance into the room revealed Sophie and Amelia at the far end, side-by-side on a couch by the fireplace.

Sophie's lap was covered with some kind of white netting. A stack of ribbons lay over one knee. Wedding stuff. Amelia sipped tea from the tray on the table in front of them. They hadn't spotted me or heard my conversation with Mrs. W. Probably because they were bickering good-naturedly over the tea tray. I leaned against the wall beside the open door and eavesdropped.

“Hand me another cookie from the tray, would you?” Amelia asked.

“No more cookies. We'll see what we’re having for lunch. Depending on how it will affect your blood sugar, maybe you can have another cookie then.”

A suspicious silence, then I thought I caught the sound of skin striking skin. In an indignant voice, Amelia said, “Did you just smack my hand?”

In a calm, low tone, Sophie said, “I told you, no more cookies.”

“You can't spank me like I'm a toddler.”

“Then don't act like one,” Sophie said, a thread of amusement weaving through her words. “Why don't you let me talk to Abel about trying some of the low-sugar dessert recipes I found?”

“Low sugar is like low fat. Might as well not have it at all,” Amelia grumbled. I wouldn't argue with that sentiment. I tended to agree.

It sounded like Sophie did as well because she sighed and said, “I know it stinks. But this is reality, Amelia, and you have to deal with it.”

“I don't know why Charlie had to hire such a sensible nurse,” Amelia grumbled again, but I could hear the affection in her voice. To my surprise, Sophie giggled and said, “Probably because the family was afraid you'd burn the house down. I shudder to think what you would've gotten up to if you had a nurse who was as much of a troublemaker as you are.”

“Well, Charlie always was a clever girl,” Amelia admitted, making Sophie giggle again. I wished I could see her face when she laughed like that. It made her smooth, low voice sound like a mountain stream, clean and light, like joy made real. I almost stepped into the room, but her giggles faded and I stayed where I was to hear more.

Amelia went on, “She's extra clever since she has you helping out with the wedding. Doesn't she know you're my nurse, not her wedding slave?”

“You could help too,” Sophie said.

“I'd love to, but you know, my arthritis.” I pictured Amelia holding her age-spotted hands in the air as evidence. Just like with the cookie, Sophie didn't let her get away with anything.

“You don't have arthritis, Amelia Winters. And Charlie isn't the only Winters who’s clever. I've never had a patient who kept me on my toes as much as you.”

“Hey, I'm not just a patient. I'm your friend.”

“And it's a good thing we are friends,” Sophie said with mock seriousness. “If I didn't like you so much I might have already smothered you in your sleep.”

This time, Amelia was the one who dissolved into giggles. I loved hearing that almost as much as Sophie's laugh. Amelia had always been a prankster, the one dependably fun adult in a sea of proper grown-ups. The last fifteen years had been as hard on her as it had on the rest of us, but for different reasons. While we’d been dealing with losing our parents, she’d watched as a terminal illness has slowly taken the love of her life. By the end, we’d worried we’d lose Amelia, too. It was good to have her home and happy once again.

The heavy front door of Winters House swung open, and Charlie stepped inside as if conjured by Sophie and Amelia's conversation. Dressed in worn jeans and a faded gray T-shirt, her auburn hair a mess of waves and curls that suited her to perfection, she started across the hall to the living room, a smile spreading across her face as she spotted me. I held up a finger to my lips and met her before she got to the living room doors, turning her down the hall to the library.

“Why were you hovering outside the living room?” she asked, giving me a sideways glance.

Without shame, I said, “I was eavesdropping. Are you here to do wedding stuff with Amelia and Sophie?”

“Just for an hour or so. Sophie offered to help. She is an absolute angel. I don't know what Lucas and I were thinking trying to throw a wedding together in six weeks,” she said, tucking a curl behind her ear.

“How complicated can it be?” I asked. “It's a hundred people, and you're getting married at the house.”

Charlie elbowed me in the ribs and made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat. “Shows what you know. I got a wedding planner to help, but there's just so much to do. I'm kind of wishing we’d decided to elope.”

“Not unless you take the rest of us with you,” I warned.

“Yeah, I know. It just seemed like this would be so much simpler when we decided on a Christmas wedding. I didn't realize how many details were involved.”

“Too late now,” I teased, leading her into the library and shutting the doors behind us.

“What's up?” Charlie asked, setting down her tote bag stuffed full of fabric samples, magazine clippings, and notebooks.

“I need a favor,” I said, not sure what Charlie's response would be.

Charlie and I had always gotten along well, but she'd been ten years old when I left home. We were never tight the way she was with Aiden.

Typical of Charlie's determination and open heart, she shoved her hands in her back pockets and said, “Anything.”

My family was grateful I was home and alive. I wasn't above using that to my advantage. I sat in one of the leather armchairs, propped my ankle on my knee, and leaned forward. Charlie took a seat in the chair opposite me, curling her legs beneath her.

“I want to go back to work,” I said. Charlie's eyes flared with surprise, but she said nothing. I went on, “Aiden's not ready to have me at Winters, Inc. He won't talk to me about coming back. He won't talk to me about anything.”

The last part was hard to admit. Aiden and I had always been closer than cousins. Closer than most brothers. I owed him. I knew it. But I couldn't start paying him back if he wouldn't even talk to me.

Charlie's eyes were guarded as she said, “Do you want me to talk to him?”

I shook my head. “No, Charlie, but thanks. Aiden and I have to work this out ourselves.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

“I know you're not working at the company anymore,” I said. “But you still know almost everything about Winters Inc. A hell of a lot more than I do after being gone over a decade. I have a lot of catching up to do. I know you're busy, with the wedding and with the house you and Lucas just bought, but if you could find some time here and there to get me up to speed, I'd appreciate it.”

Charlie's words were careful when she spoke. “You know all of my information is six months out of date.”

“It's a lot more accurate than mine,” I countered. “I'm headed out today to get a new phone, laptop, everything I need to get back into normal life. I've kept up with the company on a superficial level, but if I'm going back to work, I need a much deeper grasp of the company's holdings, plans for expansion, everything. I can do a lot of the research on my own, but I need your help, Charlie.”

Charlie leaned forward and braced her elbows on her knees. Her ocean blue eyes were intent when they met mine. “You need to give Aiden time,” she said.

“I know,” I started to say, but Charlie cut me off.

“This isn't a guilt trip, honestly. I was too young when my parents died to judge anyone else. But Aiden was so alone after you left. He needed you. All this time he understood why you were gone, but he's missed you so much, and then we thought you were dead—”

Charlie blinked and swallowed hard. On and off over the years, I’d felt guilty for leaving, but never as much as I did just then. I was a selfish fucking asshole who'd abandoned my family. I sighed.

“I don't know how to make it up to him,” I said. “To all of you. But I'm home now, and I'm not leaving again.”

“Not leaving would be a start,” Charlie agreed. “I'm just trying to say be patient with Aiden. He wants you here. And I know he wants you back at Winters Inc. He does. He just needs time.”

“We've got time. And I don't expect him to hand me one of the executive suites. I'm not looking for your old job. I'm not remotely qualified at the moment. I got a degree in economics while I was in the Army and I started my MBA, but then my schedule got… unreliable and I had to put the MBA on hold. I wasn't thinking about coming home back then, so it didn't seem like a big deal. I'm going to look into transferring into a program here, but I haven't walked through the doors of Winters Inc. in over a decade.”

I suddenly felt like I was in a job interview. Charlie studied me thoughtfully. For a minute, I thought she was going to turn me down.

I would've understood if she had. Aiden was pissed at me, and Charlie adored Aiden. She loved all of us, but Aiden had practically raised her. Then, surprising me, she leaned back in the armchair and grinned.

“Did anyone ever tell you why I left Winters Inc.?” she asked. I realized no one had.

“No. I guess I just assumed you were tired of the corporate life and wanted something new,” I said.

An explosive laugh burst from Charlie. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and bent forward, her shoulders shaking with the force of her mirth. When she had her breath back, she said, “Oh, hell no. I was working eighty hour weeks. I had zero life. A lot like Aiden, actually. He kept telling me to slow down, stop working so much. But there was so much to do, and I didn't want to leave him alone with the company.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” I started to say, guilt a heavy weight in my gut when Charlie laughed again and waved her hand in the air, dismissing my apology.

“Not the point,” she said. “So one day he calls me into his office, sits me down, and fires me. Fucking fires me. Complete with security escorting me from the fucking building.”

A giggle escaped, and Charlie wiped away a tear. I stared at her, dumbfounded.

“He can't fire you,” I protested. “You have an equal share of stock in the company. And you worked your ass off. You could've gone to the board and—”

“I know, but I wasn't going to go to war with Aiden over my job. The bitch of it was I never liked working for Winters Inc. I only did it because I thought I should, because I thought it was what Aiden wanted. And Aiden fired me because he thought it was what was best for me. Bossy asshole.”

“That was why you stole his whiskey,” I said, putting the pieces together. Charlie grinned again.

“So totally worth it,” she said. “And that was when I met Lucas, so it all worked out, but I haven't forgotten Aiden turning my life upside down because he thought he knew what was best for me. I owe him one.”

“So you'll help me?”

“I'll help you,” Charlie agreed.

“I know you're busy. With the wedding and everything, if you want to wait until after the holidays we can do that.” I didn't want to wait. I wanted to start taking my life back right away. To my relief, Charlie shook her head.

“A lot of what you have to do, you'll do on your own, anyway. Just off the top of my head, I can think of piles of research you need to get through. You can review what I give you and then we'll go over it together. By the time I'm done with you, Aiden won't be able to put you off anymore. He needs you back at the company, even if he doesn't want to admit it. This time, I know what’s good for him, and he's going to suck it up whether he likes it or not.”

I got up from the armchair. Charlie stood with me, and I pulled her into my arms, kissing the top of her head. “Thanks, sweetheart,” I said. Her arms wrapped around me and squeezed tight.

“We all missed you so much, Gage. I know things are crazy right now, with the weddings and the holidays and Aiden being an ass, but we're so glad you're home.”

“Me too,” I said, speaking the truest words that had ever passed between my lips. Not a day had gone by that I didn't miss my family, miss Winters House. Wrapping my arm around Charlie’s shoulder, I turned us to the door of the library. My stomach growled, and I hoped there was enough of whatever was on the tea tray Mrs. W had brought Sophie and Amelia to tide me over until lunch.

An idea occurred to me, a fucking brilliant idea, and I said, “Give me a job. Wedding stuff,” I clarified. “I'm not doing anything else right now, other than whatever homework you have for me, so let me help with the wedding.”

Charlie stopped dead in the doorway of the library and stared at me, her blue eyes wide, brimming with amusement and relief. “You want to help with the wedding? Even Lucas doesn't want to help with the wedding.”

“Doesn't Lucas have a new job? And you guys bought a new flip house? Sounds like he's got his hands full.”

Charlie slipped her arm through mine, and we started toward the living room again. “He does. He seriously does. And he's not a wedding stuff kinda guy. Not that you are either, but if you’re willing to help, I'll take it. The wedding planner squeezed us in last-minute after I begged and she doesn't have time to manage everything the way she normally does. I've got lists coming out my ears. I don't know why coordinating a renovation feels like fun, and throwing together a wedding is making me crazy, but it is. We probably should've waited, but we just wanted to be married.”

“Consider me at your disposal then,” I said, as we walked into the living room. Helping Charlie with her wedding would ease some of my guilt at asking her for her time when she was slammed with her own commitments.

That it would give me an excuse to be near Sophie was just a bonus.