I keep my trembling hands in my lap beneath the table while mother paces Brent’s kitchen.

“Who on earth would do such a thing?” she says again. “Destroy someone’s property like that? Kill their fish?”

“The police are looking into it,” Brent says. “Probably just vandals.”

Thankfully, he's only told her someone broke into my apartment and smashed the fish tanks. The loss of the fish didn’t scare me as badly as the writing on the walls. I see those devil words every time I close my eyes.

TEASE. BITCH. WHORE.

“Well, I’m so glad that you’ll be staying here, darling,” Mother says. “I hate the idea of you being alone. I can stay home, too, if you’d prefer. If you need a hand with –”

“No,” I say sharply. “You go to Vegas with George, Mom. There’s nothing you can do here.”

Brent’s phone rings. After glancing at the screen, he walks out the sliding door, closing it tight before answering.

Mom sighs and the look on her face tells the world what she thinks of Brent. “Such a wonderful man, Izzy. I’m so glad he was with you this evening. He’s exactly what you need. Strong. Solid. Caring. Handsome...”

I stop listening to her long litany celebrating my Not Fiancé, however true.

Brent is all those things. But this is a clusterfuck.

It’s living a lie. One that can’t continue.

I was set to go to mother’s house, even though I knew it'd be hellish, until she said she and George are heading up to Vegas tomorrow for a car show. I really don’t want to be alone, but I can’t stay here. I’ll lose my job for sure. And though Brent and I had some amazing sex the past couple of days, that doesn’t mean we're meant to live together. Even if there's a new reason.

Brent walks back in and I curse my heart. It jumps way too noticeably when he's near.

Ridiculous. I don’t need that any more than I need the rest of this insanity.

If only I’d known what a mess signing up for an online dating site and having one date with a first class douchebag could cause...

I stand to give mom a hug and assure her I’ll be fine. Brent walks her to the front door and yells upstairs for Natalie to come down and say goodbye.

Fine. I wait in the kitchen.

Brent and mother are talking, saying I’ll be okay. I will be. As far as the break-in goes.

I walk to the patio door, stare out into the darkness that's settled over the desert.

What scares me, what really shakes me up, is being here.

At his house.

After what happened this weekend.

I could fall in love. I’m more than halfway there, honestly, and I can't be.

I’ve worked too hard to get what I want. A job at the academy.

I can’t throw it all away for a man I barely know.

My heart skips a beat, telling me he’s near even before I see his reflection in the glass. I close my eyes to his smile. If only it was so easy to shut out everything else.

His warm hands gently settle on my arms, and then he caresses my skin so softly my insides melt. What should be sweetness hurts.

I take a step away. “We can’t do this.”

“You can’t stay alone, Blue.”

“If the school finds out, I’ll be fired. You know that.”

He shrugs. “No job's worth your life. You're a smart lady. You've got to know that.”

There’s frustration in his voice. I’m frustrated, too. And pissed.

I spin around to face him. “Haven’t you ever wanted something, Brent? Wanted it so bad you worked day and night?”

“It’s a job.” He shakes his head. “A fucking teaching job. There has to be a thousand others. Jobs come and go. Can't replace your life, Blue.”

“To you. To me, it's the job. A dream that actually came true.” I twist away from him, as flustered with myself as I am with his lecture.

No one else has ever understood, so there’s no reason he should either, I suppose. Art was the only thing I could focus on after dad died. The only thing no one could take away.

Brent’s arms fold around me from behind, and as badly as I want the comfort, I can’t accept it.

Not from him. If only he was anyone else. Someone who didn’t have a connection to the academy.

“I’ll talk to Jacobs.”

I shake my head. “And tell him what? That you’re my fiancé? That seems to be your standard answer and what got us in trouble in the first place.” I step out of his hold and turn around. “Besides...I don’t want to be your pretend fiancée. Don’t want to be anyone’s pretend anything.”

He stares at me. “I get it, Blue. But you have to know, I wasn’t pretending this weekend, and I don’t believe you were either.”

I wasn’t, but can’t admit it. “This weekend has nothing to do with any of this.”

His glare grows icy. “You’re right. It doesn’t.” He gestures down the hallway. “Your things are in the bedroom across from Nat’s and your car will be here by the time you need to leave in the morning.”

He walks out of the room. I slump against the counter. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Seriously? I just spent the last four days with this man, loving every minute, and now, when I want nothing more than to feel his arms around me again, I push him away.

He's right and wrong. Both simultaneously.

It's just a job. But it’s also my everything, just like I told him. A chance to put me on the fast track to the goal I set many tumultuous years ago.

I push myself off the counter and head upstairs. Natalie comes out of her room just as I arrive at the door across the hall.

“I’m sorry someone broke into your apartment, Izzy,” she says, “but I’m happy you’re staying here with us.”

I give her a hug. “Thank you.” Not wanting to get her hopes up, I say, “My apartment should be ready for me to move back in just a couple days. I shouldn't be here long.”

“I know. Dad told me. I just want you to know I’m happy that you’re here.”

My heart takes a tumble. Of course, he told her.

This isn’t what he wants either.

Maybe his reasons are different – they must be – but he knows how crazy this is.

I tell Nat goodnight and spend a restless night trying to figure out why Brent keeps letting things go as far as they have. I don’t mean the sex. I mean agreeing to be my pretend boyfriend. Vowing to protect me. Practically telling me he won't take no for an answer.

He might be a nice guy, with the background to make good on his strongman promises, but no one's that nice.

What the hell?

Sure, he loves his daughter, but I can’t believe he’s doing all this just for her sake, either. There has to be more behind it.

But what?

* * *

He’s in the kitchen the next morning, looking far too handsome this early. He's wearing nothing more than a pair of pajama pants. Their tight cut makes me remember the weekend mornings all too well.

“Coffee?”

I shake my head. “I’ll get some on the way to school.”

He sets down his cup. “I'm not blind, Blue. I get this has gone farther than we ever anticipated, but –”

“No, buts,” I say. “I’ll go straight to my mom’s after work tonight.”

“No, you won’t. That call I took last night was from a captain in the sheriff’s department. He’s bringing the papers by tonight for an Order For Protection against Preston Graves. I told him to be here at five. So you’ll still make it to your art class this evening.”

I’m full of protests, but know they’ll be a waste of breath and time. “Are the keys in my car?” I’d given them to Riker last night, for Juan to collect, and deliver my car to Brent’s.

He digs in his pocket and sets them on the counter.

I pick them up and leave the house. The gut sense that came to me last night, that there's more going on, is stronger than ever this morning. I just can’t make sense of it now.

Later, I will.

The day is a total circus. Four days of vacation this early in the year disrupts the routine I’d spent weeks instilling in the preschoolers. There are tears, bathroom accidents and temper tantrums that leave me euphoric when 2:30 finally rolls around.

I've just finished saying goodbye to the last student when the phone on the wall rings. Intuition hits hard, telling me who it is even before I hold the receiver to my ear.

“Ms. Derby?” Sally Jones says. “Mr. Jacobs would like to see you in his office.”

“I'll be there soon. Thanks.” Amazing how calm I sound. Dread pricks my entire body.

I collect my things and leave the classroom. I’ve never been fired before, so don’t know exactly how it happens.

Natalie sits in the front office when I get there, tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want to tell him we went to the wedding with you, but Mr. Jacobs made me. I’m sorry.”

Anger boils inside me as I wrap my arms around her. Whatever I expected from the principal, it isn't this. “You didn’t do anything to be sorry about,” I whisper. “Nothing at all.”

Behind her desk, Sally Jones gives me a nod and then glances towards Mr. Jacobs' office. I’m beyond pissed that he made Natalie cry. “I’ll be back shortly,” I tell her.

I enter the Principal’s office, and as I’m closing the door, I say the first thing that comes to mind, “Brent Eden is going to be furious when he finds out you interrogated his daughter.”

He nods slowly, as if unaffected by what I’d just said. “Then perhaps Mr. Eden, and you, should have been honest with me from the beginning, Ms. Derby.” Sitting down, he points towards the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat. I'll get to it. You came so highly recommended. I’d be extremely disappointed to have to let you go, so I suggest we consider this a warning in the strongest possible terms –”

If his office door opening with a bang doesn't interrupt him, Brent’s angrily distorted face does.

No denying it. That badass attitude I thought was a grand charade exists.

The door slams shut and in two steps Brent slaps a hand on the desk hard enough to knock over a photo. “Who the fuck do you think you are? What I do, what my daughter does, outside of this school, is no business of yours.”

“Now, Mr. Eden, listen here, I –”

“No, you listen. If you and your fucking academy cared more about your teachers and students than you do your rules and regulations, you’d have had Preston Graves charged for breaking and entering.” Brent slams a hand on the desk again. “But you didn’t. So, that slimy little bastard breaks into Ms. Derby’s apartment, destroys her stuff, kills her fish, and leaves her no choice but to file a restraining order against the bastard. And what are you worried about? If she’s fraternizing with a student and her old man outside of school? How fucked up is that?”

Jacobs looks shocked. “He-he broke in to –”

“Yeah. Just a couple days ago,” Brent answers. “Tore the place up.”

“Well, this is a new development, I hadn’t heard –”

It's hard not to smile, watching Jacobs go pale with a thousand ugly legal implications invading his head.

“Then listen good. Right now.” Brent waves a hand towards me. “If Ms. Derby can’t be friends with my family outside of school because Nat's a student, then I’ll pull her out. I'll raise hell for a refund. And I'll make sure everybody knows this place puts red tape over real safety. There are plenty of other schools just as good as this one.”

I jump to my feet. “You can’t do that!”

“No, there aren’t!” Jacobs says at the same time.

“I can,” Brent says to me before turning to Jacobs. “And there are.” Brent sets both hands on the desk and leans towards Jacobs. “Last chance, bub. You'd better get a handle on what you’re trying to cover up with this rules bullshit, or I’ll expose your dirty laundry. Every damn bit of it.”

The air goes so still a shiver tickles my spine.

Jacobs goes bone white as he slowly lowers himself onto his chair.

Brent straightens. “I’m sure you'll have a change of heart. Agree Ms. Derby's done nothing to put her employment here in jeopardy. And once you’ve apologized to her, you owe my daughter one, too.”

Jacobs nods.

The next few minutes, which include the apologies Brent demanded, are subdued. I can’t help but question what sort of cover up Brent kept referring to.

If it was just rules, which every parent agrees to when they enroll their kids, the academy would have the upper hand. Jacobs wouldn't be scared out of his skin. I don’t ask until after we're all at his place, later.

“I have no idea,” Brent says. “It was the only thing that made sense. Calling the bastard's bluff with one of my own. It worked. Probably a few laws on the books that would've landed him in hot water over you and Graves, the break-in, giving a predator access to the school. Hell of a lot worse than his dumbass rules with you and me.”

We're in the kitchen and Natalie's upstairs. I’m still suspicious. “All schools have rules about teacher and student relationships.”

“Which they need to, but Jacobs blew this one out of proportion.”

I step closer to the kitchen island separating us. “And what about you? Didn’t you blow up, too? Threatening to send her elsewhere?”

“No.” He leans across the island, laying a hand on mine. “I was telling the truth. Don’t know why you love that school so much, but you do, and if it means you losing your job, then fuck yes, I’ll send Nat to another school.”

I try to pull my hand out from under his, but he grasps it tight.

“That’s what Natalie would want, too,” he says softly. “No lie.”

I shake my head, heart sinking to depths of confusion I never knew existed. “No. I'd never allow that to happen.”

He keeps his tense hold on my fingers as he walks around the edge of the island. Stopping in front of me, he takes my other hand. “Just like I won’t allow Jacobs to bully you.”

Damn!

The question I’d asked myself all night comes out. I can't hold it in any longer.

“Why?” I shake my head. “Why are you doing all this, Brent? It doesn’t make sense.”

I can’t pull my eyes off him, and also realize just how over my head I am in all of this. Pure instinct is what kept me going last weekend. Instinct and pleasure. Unbelievable pleasure.

It was a game. Mindless fun.

Back here, in Phoenix, it’s real life, and it's far from carefree. I’ve never done anything like this, and don’t know what to do. If there are rules for this sort of thing, or not.

“Does this make better sense?” he asks, moments before his lips meet mine.

The kiss is so soft, so sweet and gentle, my insides melt at the same time a fire sparks.

He does that.

Makes me forget everything except how perfect we can be.

It can't keep happening. It’s not the answer to any of this.

It takes all my effort to pull away. “No. None of this makes sense. You didn’t want to be my prop, my pretend boyfriend. You said –”

“I know what I said, Blue.” He frames my face with both hands. “And I thought you knew I meant it at the time.”

“Thought?”

“I was attracted to you before.” His fingers comb my hair. “You saw the pictures I drew. From the moment I met you, I couldn’t get you out of my head. Still can’t. Shit happened. Drew us together. Still happening.”

That’s true, but it’s no answer. “Okay, fine, but –”

“Quiet. You’re putting too much thought into this, Blue.” He kisses my forehead. “You no longer have any worries over losing your job. So let’s just go slow and see what happens.”

Again, he’s right, but I’m still not convinced. Maybe because I’ve always been wary of relationships. Seen too many broken hearts.

Maybe the job at the academy wasn’t my ultimate goal. Or maybe it was just an excuse to not have to be in a relationship of any kind.

“It’s too much,” I say loudly. “All of this. It’s just too, well...complicated.”

He slides his hands down to my shoulders. There's a simple answer in his touch that makes my blood seethe. “Doesn’t have to be. Quit thinking. Stop doubting. Saying we're impossible before we're even anything.”

“Jesus, it's not like that. How can we be? The school. My family.” I shake my head, battling back tears. “It’s gone too far, too fast.”

“We’ll slow down then,” he says. “Set boundaries.”

“Boundaries?”

He nods. He's trying so hard. “You name them.”

“Well.” I step back so I can think. It's harder than it should be while he’s touching me. My mind becomes focused on only one thing then. “No more charging into the Principal’s office and pounding his desk like a Neanderthal, for one.”

“Okay.” He shrugs.

He agrees so fast I haven’t had time to think of anything else, other than how badly I want him to kiss me again, and then do a few other choice things. This is impossible, however he wants me to think otherwise. Staying here with him. “And no kissing,” I say.

He lifts a single brow. “Bull.”

“Not in front of Natalie, I mean.” I bite my tongue softly, but it's too late. I can't stop a strained smile.

“Whatever, fair enough,” he says. “Anything else?”

Nothing comes to me. How could it when he’s staring. Knowing I want more than kisses. “I’ll let you know when I think of something else.”

He steps forward and touches the end of my nose with one finger. “Got it.”

Walking toward the hall, he gives me a wink. “I'll order a pizza for supper while you do your thinking. That shit always makes me hungry enough to eat a water buffalo.”

Flustered because I’m not sure I gained any ground, I yell after him, “No anchovies!”

He laughs.

I spin around and consider banging my head against the countertop. The marble countertop.

Despite all this tension and heart-to-heart madness, I'm no closer to finding out the truth. The missing piece that's hanging in the air between us. Invisible and omnipresent like dark matter.

There has to be more than meets the eye here. I feel it in my bones. Deep down.

Has to be more for him wanting to be my boyfriend so bad. Pretend or not. Attraction aside.

It’s not like I’ve had guys lined up out the door. The only reason I signed up for that dating app was because I knew Megan’s wedding was just around the corner.

No, I hadn’t known which corner, but they’d been looking at rings since Christmas, so it was inevitable. I’d just wanted a man by then. A 'man friend,' as mom would say.

Nothing more than that.

Instead, I accidentally ordered up a fucking psycho. Preston.

Who I’m rescued from by a dream come true. A complicated, overprotective beast with a heart of gold under his fuck-the-world exterior. A man who also might have the best dick on the planet, which I’m now telling myself I can’t play with.

Fucking idiot. Crazy. That’s what I am.

That's what he does to me.

That's what this is.

I’m still in the depths of chiding myself when the doorbell rings. A moment later, voices and footsteps sound in the hallway. It's too soon to be the pizza man.

I step away from the counter and try to busy myself at the sink, getting a glass of water. Which I damn near choke on when I recognize the stocky cop standing beside Brent.

“Izzy, this is Captain Bob Dawson from the sheriff’s department,” Brent says. “He’s brought the paperwork for you to sign for the OFP.”

Oh, we've met.

He’s the one who gave me a ticket weeks ago. And was extremely rude about it.

I’m hoping the captain doesn’t remember my face, but considering my car in the driveway, there really isn’t much hope.

“Hello, Captain Dawson,” I say, trying not to grit my teeth.

“Ms. Derby.” He gives a shallow nod. Then he sets some papers on the counter and pulls a pen out of his shirt pocket. “If you’ll just complete these forms, and sign them, I’ll have them sent to the judge promptly.”

“Thank you.” I take the pen and slide the papers closer.

Brent and the Captain talk while I read the instructions and check the appropriate boxes. I’m in the midst of explaining what happened at my apartment in as few words as possible when the doorbell rings again.

Brent excuses himself to go get the pizza.

The captain steps over and leans against the island. My nerves are already shot, and his closeness makes my spine ice up.

I really don't like this man. Something weird about him. Police officers are supposed to make you feel safe. With him, it's the opposite.

“How long have you known Brent Eden?” he asks, glancing at the lines I’ve completed.

It's hard not to turn and look him in the eye. I don’t think that's anyone’s business and keep my attention on the papers. “A while.”

“Did you know his brother? David?”

I don’t glance up. “No.”

“Ah. Just curious. Brent’s done a lot of work for the department, and I’ve known him for years. It’s too bad what happened to Dave.”

I’m curious, but don't dare ask. Not with that strange, soft edge in his voice.

I sign the last page and slide them all over to him. “Done, officer. Anything else you need from me?”

Brent and Nat enter the room, chattering away. Thank God. Natalie sets the pizza box on the counter.

“Got all I need right here, Brent,” the captain says. “I’ll head out now. Better get at that pizza before it gets cold.”

Brent walks him outside while Natalie and I set the table.

She’s still a bit subdued, so I turn the subject to the pizza, pretending I’ve never had Mike’s before. Her demeanor changes instantly, and by the time Brent returns, we're laughing and comparing local pizza joints.

After we eat, Brent insists on driving us both to the school and sits in the back of the room the entire time. By the time we get home, the stress of the last two days is dragging on me.

I go upstairs, take a bath, and then crawl into bed. I hear Brent come upstairs. I don’t want to imagine how comforting it would be to flop down next to him, feel those strong arms wrap around me. But tonight's not the night or the place for it.

I shouldn’t be so selfish. This isn’t easy on him, either.

He’s as stressed as I am. I can tell.

Even though I’m tired, I know I won’t be able to sleep, so I pull out my tablet to read. I don't get far. None of the books I’ve downloaded hold my attention tonight, so I open up my web browser, and before I even realize it, I’m typing David Eden into the search bar.

There are plenty of people by that name, and I only need to pay nine dollars and ninety-nine cents to shady background sites to learn all about them.

Snorting, I narrow my search. Including Brent’s name in quotes helps, but the only things that come up are Davey’s obituary on several different websites.

That creepy cop is why I’m more curious now than before. Why in God's name did he ask me about Brent's dead brother?

It makes no sense and it's eerie as hell. I don't just dislike Captain Dawson. He freaks me out.

I sigh, shutting off the tablet. “You don’t like him because he gave you a ticket,” I whisper to myself. It's not very reassuring. “Just go to sleep. Stop trying to make a mountain out of every molehill...”

An hour later, I’m still wide awake, and seriously contemplating sneaking down the hall to Brent’s bedroom, apologizing for being so foolish earlier, and begging him to let me crawl into his bed. Preferably naked.

It's wrong, but there are a few walls between his room and Nat's. If we're careful, there isn't a chance we'll wake her.

The click of the door opening has me sitting up, and the dark silhouette that appears in the doorway a second later sends my heart soaring.

He walks in and closes the door behind him. “Nat's sound asleep.”

“Oh?” It’s all I can think to say.

He steps closer to the bed. “I’m not, Blue. Wide awake.”

“Same,” I whisper, slowly flipping back the covers, exposing the wide-open space beside me.

He’s not even completely on the bed before we’re kissing. Seriously and deliciously. Tongues fused, thrashing, hot omens of things to come.

Pulling his mouth away, he says, “I suggest no boundaries once she’s sleeping.” He cups one of my breasts firmly, rolling the nipple between his fingers. “None whatsoever.”

I slide my hands under his T-shirt. “Sold.”