Reeve had never had to fire anyone before, but there was a first time for everything. He’d known his employee Rick had a tendency to get a little mouthy and had been disrespectful to both Reeve and Brad in the past, but he’d never been anything but polite and professional to their customers. Until today, apparently. When Mr. Hanson called and told Reeve about the way Rick had acted, Reeve had been humiliated. He’d then apologized profusely and gave the man the following month’s service for free.

As much as he hated to lose the manpower during the busy season, using profanities and speaking in anger to a client was not something Reeve could forgive, and so he and Brad had decided that they had to let him go. As much as he knew he’d done the right thing, he felt like shit as he made his way back to his truck. Mr. Hanson, old and crotchety, could be a real ass, and he hated that Rick had let his emotions get the better of him, but he had, and Reeve hoped this taught him a hard lesson.

On top of that, Reeve was hot as hell, sweating from head to toe, and nearly thirty minutes later than he’d told Emily he’d be. Once in his truck, he started the engine and blasted the air. It was not going to be ideal, seeing her completely dirty like this, but he’d just have to take a quick shower before they could be together.

He smiled to himself knowing that she was in his house waiting for him. He wondered what she was doing. Going through his stuff? Peeking in the refrigerator? He had absolutely nothing to hide considering how anal he was about getting rid of things and not hanging on to anything unnecessary. Maybe she was just sitting on the couch waiting for him. It was possible she hadn’t gone in, but he hoped she had.

It was still a little worrisome, her wanting to get together. He loved the idea that she couldn’t wait until Saturday, but something about the way she’d started the conversation had put his senses on alert.

He pulled away from Brad’s house, which doubled as their business office, and headed toward home. Ten minutes later he pulled into his driveway and noticed that Emily’s car wasn’t there.

“Shit.” He hoped she hadn’t gotten tired of waiting and left. Picking up his phone, he saw a bunch of calls from his mother, many of which he’d ignored earlier. Then two calls and a voicemail from Emily. He listened to her voicemail. The minute she mentioned his mother he felt a pit form in his stomach. By the time he’d listened to her entire message, he felt as if he might be sick.

Throwing the truck into reverse, he flew out of the driveway and then down the street. He was speeding. It was reckless.

He didn’t care.

Oh God, if she went into his mother’s house . . .

No, she wouldn’t allow that. Alice Miller never let anyone into the house. Ever.

When he pulled into his mother’s driveway he cursed out loud when he saw the little black Audi parked alongside the curb. And it was empty. He scrambled out of the truck, slammed the door, and strode up to the porch before banging on the front door because he knew without a doubt it would be locked. It always was so no one accidentally walked in.

“Mom,” he yelled, then pounded again. “Mom, open up.”

The door opened, the horrible smell poured out, and there she was, the one woman in the entire world he would never, ever want to be standing there. In his childhood home. Surrounded by the mountains of shit his mother would never part with. Not even for her son. His entire body inflated with rage that settled deep in his chest, heavy like a physical weight.

“What the fuck, Emily? Why are you here?” He was being a dick, he could hear it in his own furious voice and see it reflected back to him in the round shock of her eyes. He didn’t care. She needed to go.

“I’m so sorry, Reeve. But we did find Mr. Boo.” She tried a timid smile.

He grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her from the house. “You should not be in there.”

“It’s okay, Reeve.” She tripped on a crack in the concrete when he yanked her and Reeve grabbed her shoulders with both arms before quickly letting her go. Emily turned to stare at him, shock on her face. “I know you’re upset, but . . . I said it’s okay.”

He lifted his hands to his head and squeezed, not able to handle what was happening right now. “Emily, stop fucking talking.”

She shut her mouth and stared at him. If he wasn’t mistaken her eyes had gone a little glassy.

He tried to be calm as he spoke but it came out as cold and bitter instead. “I need you to leave here. Right now.”

“Reeve, pl—”

“Now!”

Without another word she scooted past him. He couldn’t watch her go. He could only listen for her car to start and then drive away. When it did he yelled into the house.

“Mother, what the hell is wrong with you?”

It took her a moment, but she finally came down the hall. He’d known she would avoid the confrontation between him and Emily. She knew damn well that he never would have wanted anyone he knew here, let alone inside the house. He would have been fine if Emily never met his mother at all, his shame of this place and this woman ran so deep.

“Reeve, you really only have yourself to blame. I ask you all the time to help me and you never will.”

“Goddamn it, Mom. You don’t want help. You want your cats. And everyone’s pity. You want me to make Dad come back. He’s not ever coming back, because he could not handle living like this. Don’t you understand that?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “You were also a difficult child. It was not just my fault.”

Reeve shook his head. He would never get through to her. Deep inside, he knew his mother loved him somehow, but she was ill. Her blaming him for the state of her house had always been her excuse and they both knew it was bullshit. For a long time now he thought he’d finally made it to a stage in his life where he’d moved beyond these issues, but finding Emily here had brought the deep shame and paranoia rushing back.

“Mom, I’m sorry but you’re wrong. You need help. Either that or someone needs to take a match and light this place on fire.” He turned around, ignoring her pleas for him to stay, and made his way to his truck.

As he headed home, his entire body began to shake from the shock. A part of him hoped he’d find Emily waiting for him, but the other hoped to God he didn’t. It turned out not to be an issue because she wasn’t there. Just as well because after this he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to face her again.

* * *

She still couldn’t believe what had happened. The moment Emily drove away from Alice Miller’s home, she made the decision that she was not going to reach out to Reeve. His reaction was out of line. But Saturday morning as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, she began to question that choice. Maybe she was weak, or maybe she couldn’t stop seeing the look of panic and pain on his face.

His reaction had been terrible. Scary, even. But whenever Emily stopped to put herself in his shoes, she felt an inkling of understanding. She knew without a doubt that he’d been completely horrified and humiliated by finding her there. Who wouldn’t be? His mother’s home was the kind of place they featured on reality television. For her to witness it—without his knowing or giving permission—had obviously called out to a very deeply insecure and damaged part of Reeve.

What she couldn’t reconcile was whether that gave him the right to be such an utter dick. It had been humiliating for her, as he stood there and yelled at her like a child. Especially after she’d just crawled across a floor covered in cat poop to locate an animal that hadn’t really been lost at all but just hanging out behind a pile of junk. Reeve hadn’t even given her a chance to explain what had happened. For a woman whose trigger was a man being an asshole, she couldn’t believe that her heart was even giving him the benefit of the doubt on this. But it was, just a little, because when she’d entered that home her heart had broken for him and for his mother.

Nevertheless, he’d been horrible to her and he hadn’t yet apologized for it. So maybe that was it. Before they’d really even started, they were over.

When she could no longer ignore the hunger pains in her stomach, Emily got up and ate some breakfast. She spent the morning working, running on the treadmill, and doing laundry. Anything to keep her mind off the fact that she was originally supposed to have a picnic date with Reeve today.

She wondered if he’d been thinking of her. Did he wish she’d call? Was he waiting for her to apologize? It wasn’t the first time that had crossed her mind, but every time she even considered it, she had to remind herself that she’d tried apologizing that day. Repeatedly, even, and he hadn’t been willing to listen.

Hell, she’d even apologized in her original voicemail.

But what was she supposed to do? Leave a distressed older woman in a hot house? No, she’d done nothing wrong. She knew that. And as much as she understood his reaction, she deserved an apology from him. The worst part was not knowing if that was the real him she’d witnessed. Was that what a relationship with him would involve? Yelling and blaming? The fearful part of her wanted to chalk this up to a lesson learned early and say good riddance. But the rational side wanted answers. Wanted to tell him that it was okay. That she didn’t judge him by the mess inside his mother’s house.

Trying to take her mind off Reeve, Emily spent the afternoon tanning by her pool while she read the newest Becky Bradley book. By the time she’d finished off some cheese and crackers for an early dinner, she’d had it. Obviously, he had no intention of speaking to her about what had happened. That was unacceptable.

Emily took a shower, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Twenty minutes later she pulled into Reeve’s driveway behind his truck. His garage door was open, his Harley sitting inside. At least she knew he was home and hadn’t taken some other woman out on the bike.

She took a deep breath and was about to head for the front door when she noticed the gasoline container sitting on the ground. Then the sound from the background registered. A lawn mower. Heading around the side of his house, she admired the row of white azaleas blooming along the side of his house. It made sense that his landscaping was nice, but it was no less impressive for it. Especially for a bachelor.

Reeve’s backyard had a low wooden fence and Emily leaned on it, looking around. When she caught sight of him she sucked in a breath. Gracious, he was too good looking, sporting a pair of navy athletic shorts and a baseball cap.

Nothing else.

The row he was currently mowing had him walking in the opposite direction so she had the pleasure of admiring him for a moment unnoticed. She found it adorably amusing that he had a noticeable farmer’s tan, but even the lightest part of his torso was still more tan than any part of her body. Obviously he still spent a good amount of time shirtless. A shame he couldn’t always be semi-naked. Emily was sure his female clients would have no problem with him working in nothing but tattooed skin and chest hair. Hell, even fully dressed he’d had her employees at LAM salivating at the windows.

When Reeve got to the far end of the row he pivoted the mower with one hand and turned around to head in the opposite direction. Emily’s body tensed, waiting for the moment when he saw her. It took a little bit, and it wasn’t until he was halfway down the row that she saw his head look up and do a double take. She gave a little wave but he didn’t wave back, just kept two hands on the handle. She didn’t miss the way his biceps flexed with tension, as if his grip had tightened upon seeing her. His face hadn’t given any of his emotions away, partly because he was wearing sunglasses.

He finished the strip of grass he was on and let go of the clutch. The silence was a stark contrast from the rumbling engine, and suddenly she wondered if she just should not have come.

Walking over, he took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair before shoving it back down on his head. He was damp with perspiration, chest hair sticking to his shiny skin.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.”

He just stared. She could feel the intensity of his gaze despite not seeing his eyes.

“How are you?” she asked.

He shrugged, his hands settling on his hips. “Good. Just getting some shit done.” His lips went into a flat line and she was tempted to question why getting shit done was preferable to spending the day with her as they’d previously intended. It was all bullshit and once more her anger bubbled up.

“I kept hoping you’d call me.”

He licked his lips, hesitating. “I kept hoping I’d want to, but I never did.”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise at his callousness. Here she had hoped that after having several days to reflect back on what had happened, he’d be able to see things more clearly. Hopefully be regretful. Apparently she had underestimated what a jerk he could be. She tried to think of something to say. Something smart, cunning, and as viciously painful as what he’d just said. But nothing came to mind so she just turned around and began to walk away.

“Damn it, Em.”

She heard the gate open behind her and she picked up the pace. Not quickly enough, because suddenly his warm hand caught her elbow and jerked her around to face him. Instantly she ripped her arm away.

“Don’t you manhandle me again. I didn’t come here for you to treat me like shit, you asshole.”

Reeve sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry. Just . . . please don’t go.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked.

“Because what I just said didn’t come out right. I wanted to call you, Whip. All week I did. I wanted to see you today. So damn bad. But something stopped me. Not you. This has nothing to do with you. It’s me.”

“You had a funny way of showing it on Wednesday.”

“I was angry. Beyond angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been so . . . mad. Ever.”

“At me?”

“Yes, but not really, no. I just . . . I don’t know how to explain it to you. And I hate the way I acted that day. It was wrong and I’m disgusted with myself for how I treated you.”

“You should be.”

“I know, damn it. I said that I was.” He sighed.

“Are you sorry for it?” She hated that her words came out sounding desperate and uncertain.

“Of course I am. I’ve played those moments over and over and . . .” He sucked in a hard breath. “I’m sorry, Emily. Can’t we just try and forget that day?”

“How? It happened. It’s the reason I had to finally come here and corner you. The reason we’re fighting in your yard instead of having fun out on your bike like we were supposed to.”

He nodded, but didn’t respond. He rested his hands his hips once again, and she tried not to watch how his arms flexed, sweat dripping down his torso.

“If I weren’t here now . . . what would have happened? Anything?”

His nostrils flared as his lungs filled. He looked down at the grass for a moment and then finally back up at her. “I don’t know.” The uncertainty in his voice made her want to cry. “But you did. You came to me.”

She breathed in deeply, still short of breath from her adrenaline-fueled anger. Reeve took a step closer. Tired of guessing what he was truly thinking, she reached up and pulled his sunglasses off his eyes.

He didn’t attempt to stop her, only squinted a bit as his eyes adjusted to the evening sun. When their gazes met, she realized maybe that was a mistake. Looking into Reeve’s blue eyes was possibly her kryptonite. He smelled like clean sweat and grass clippings and it was all she could do not to reach out and lay her palm on his chest. But first, he owed her a lot more than an apology.

“How do I know I won’t see that side of you again?”

His brow furrowed, and he absentmindedly scratched at his chest. “This is going to sound like a load of bullshit, but I don’t think you realized what that moment was like for me. Finding you there.”

She began to speak but he interrupted her. “Just . . . please let me get this out. I’m not trying to make excuses, Emily. But you have to understand something. No one. Not one person, that is important to me, has been into my mother’s house. Not ever. I had every intention of keeping it that way for the rest of my life.”

“But why? That’s her home. It has nothing to do with you.”

“How does it not? I grew up like that, Em. That was my life.”

She bit her bottom lip, unsure of what to say. “I’m so sorry. I hate that. And I hate that me being there upset you, but I could not have left her alone. She’s your mother. You also need to understand that there is nothing about her that makes me think less of you.”

His eyes pinched shut and his hands instantly threaded through her hair. He tugged her toward him and kissed the top of her head, almost in frustration.

“I don’t deserve you being here, Emily. Do you know that?” He whispered into her hair.

She lifted her hands and latched onto his wrists, holding him to her. “Yes I do.”

He chuckled. “Will you please stay? I’m almost finished,” he said.

There was no refusing this man. Not today, anyway, and she might regret the decision at another time, but in this moment it felt right to have his hands on her. “Okay.”

He pulled back and looked down at her. “Thank you. And can I ask you a huge favor?”

“What?”

“Go into my kitchen and get me a glass of water while I hurry and finish up?”

Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? One minute you’re throwing out insults and the next you’re asking me to wait on you? You’ve got some balls.”

Reeve smirked. “You should know,” he said as he made his way back to the mower.

She followed him through the gate and then headed for the deck and then straight into the kitchen. Once inside she couldn’t help looking at his home in a new light. She’d noticed before that it was very clean. Minimal almost to the point of empty, and now she wondered if that was on purpose. Most people had things strewn about their kitchen cabinets. Coffeemakers, toasters, napkin holders, stacks of mail, and such. Reeve had nothing. Emily stepped into the living room and realized it was the same way. There was a bookshelf holding some very neatly arranged video games, books, and DVDs, but that was basically it. Everything was tidy. Was that the result of having a mother who was a hoarder?

Rooting around the cabinets—which were also rather empty except for what was necessary—she finally found some glasses and filled one with ice and water. She headed back outside and made herself comfortable on one of the patio chairs. Reeve mowed several more rows of lawn before taking a break. He walked up to the deck, and she handed over his glass.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a long drink. She watched his throat as he swallowed over and over, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Everything about him screamed virility. It was no wonder she couldn’t stay away from him. He handed her the glass, which was now just ice, and got back to work.

There was something very domestic and calming about sitting here on his back deck watching him do yard work. As if this were just a normal Saturday night. She was almost tempted to pull out her phone and settle back into her book, but that seemed silly since she had a real-life man to admire right in front of her.

The monotonous sound of the mower soothed her as she watched him walk slowly up and down the backyard. She could sit here and watch him all evening. The flexing of his abs as he leaned forward and then pulled the machine back toward him; how his butt looked in those shorts.

When he was finished he pushed the mower back to the front and Emily went inside to refill his water glass. She heard the sound of the garage door, and then he was coming through another door into the kitchen. She turned from the sink and handed the glass to him, once again watching him closely as he drank it.

“Thanks.”

Setting the cup down on the counter, Reeve stepped into her space and put his hands on her jaw. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

She stared up at him, not missing the look of uncertainty in his eyes. That was new. He’d been so sure of himself every other time they’d been together, especially when it came to anything physical, and it reminded her how the past few days had reopened an emotional wound for him.

Emily pretended to consider it, despite the fact that she wanted nothing more. “I guess so.”

His lips quirked the slightest bit and then he leaned down to take her mouth in a kiss. It was tentative at first, but quickly turned hot. Within seconds he was done with subtlety or teasing, and began to consume and taste every inch of her lips and tongue. She let him have what he wanted from her, and planned on getting what she wanted in return.