MISCHA’S MIND WAS WHIRRING when he got back to the office, hopping from one tangent to another with ideas about what came next.

Buying Ash a phone card, and dropping it off. That should be first. Making sure the cleaning staff came one more time before the weekend. Not that he lived in enough of the house to make a big mess. The longer he thought, the longer the list grew.

He had to finalize a layout for the next remodel, though. Fake-engagement planning could wait. He’d put off this design work for almost a week, as stress stole his creativity. He opened the main file on his computer, dragged the floor plan to his larger monitor, and began dropping elements into the layout.

He lost track of time as he fell into the project. Something he hadn’t been able to do for a while. The creative side of this sang to him, it was why he’d gotten the degree in architectural design to begin with, and why he partnered with Tristan after his DM contract was up.

He was surprised when Tristan knocked on his door.

“I’m heading out. Are you staying late?”

Mischa scrubbed his face. “Don’t know yet. What time is it?” He glanced at his other screen. Almost six. “Fuck. Didn’t know it was so late.”

“What are you working on?”

“That fourplex near Rose Park. I figured out how to separate the lobby for the individual units.” He leaned back and gestured to his monitor. “Check it out.”

Tristan came around the desk, and looked over Mischa’s shoulder. He was silent for a moment, before saying, “It’s brilliant. Is it ready for construction?”

“By mid-morning tomorrow. I’ll call the contractor and get us on the schedule.”

“Love it.” Tristan clapped him on the back and stepped away. “You going to be out of here soon enough to hit the bar tonight? You owe me.”

The whirlwind morning rushed back, and Mischa couldn’t hide his grin as he spun his chair, so he could face his friend. “Can’t. I’m spoken for.”

Which meant if Ash wasn’t interested in casual hook-ups, he’d just obliterated his sex life for the next few months. The thought didn’t nag him the way he expected.

Tristan leaned his weight against a low filing cabinet. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not meant to be. I’m engaged.” It sounded not as odd as he thought it would.

Tristan started at him for a moment, mouth drawn in a thin line. “Didn’t we agree that was a bad idea?”

Everyone else should be gone for the night, so there was no reason to keep their voices down. Still, Mischa didn’t want any of these details leaving this room, so he kept his voice low. “We agreed it would be stupid to hook up with a random stranger I just met. It’s like I told Wolfram—I’ve been dating this girl for months, but keeping it on the down-low.”

“It’s like you told... Is she a single mom, too?”

“Close. Raising her younger sister. Parents are gone.”

Tristan crossed his arms. “All right, let’s pretend you have been seeing someone for months, even though I know better, what’s her name?”

“Ash.”

“Blonde and Captivated?”

“Ash.” A hint of possession slipped into Mischa’s voice, and he hid his wince.

“You’re a fucking idiot. I say that because I care.”

The words didn’t bother Mischa. Not coming from Tristan. “You’re jealous,” Mischa teased.

“Of your pretend fiancée? Okay.”

Mischa grinned. “Tell me you don’t love the idea of throwing Ralph’s implications back in his face. Of proving our level of competence doesn’t change based on our relationship statuses.”

Tristan sighed and furrowed his brow. “You make a good point. That whole almost forty and still single. What will people think? bit gets old. Say I’m willing to play along. How long have you been seeing her? Exactly.”

“Six months.” Mischa plucked any missing details from the air as he talked. “Fantastic woman. Like I said, parents are gone, she’s raising her little sister. They’re private people, so she and I have kept things to ourselves. But now that we’re engaged...”

“Yeah, I can do the one-plus-one on the rest. What’s the real story? You barely know her.”

“I was thinking about what you said, about offering her the job. I went to talk to her, and one thing led to another.”

“You boggle my mind.” Tristan sounded amused.

“Right?”

“And she agreed to this.”

“Completely. I laid everything on the table.” He did, didn’t he? Concern nudged his senses that he might have left something out. He didn’t know why it was so important, but he wanted to make sure he was honest with Ash.

“She knows it’s just for show.” Mischa explained as much to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, as to fill in Tristan. “In a few months we’ll break up—amicably of course, the engagement just wasn’t working for her—and go our separate ways.”

“This is still insane, but I’m going to watch, out of morbid curiosity. Because you’re right, I do want to see the look on Wolfram’s face.”

Mischa was glad Tristan was backing him up. Something tugged at his thoughts, though. A snippet of the conversation he needed to focus on, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

Did it have to do with the relationship having a deadline? No. That isn’t it. He grasped for more information, but the idea flitted away.

If it was important, he’d figure it out later.

****

FOR ASH’S SIXTEENTH birthday, her dad bought Kelly a toy car. Not the little Hot Wheels kind. He had one custom designed that was motorized, big enough for Kelly to ride in, and looked a lot like the convertible Mini Ash had been eying.

He also took Kelly to Disneyland. Told Ash she was old enough to stay by herself for a few days, and she couldn’t miss school.

By that point, Ash was used to Kelly getting things she didn’t. The new snub hit her harder than she wanted to admit, though. When she wasn’t in school, she spent most of her time staring blankly at her computer, and wondering why she was such a shitty sister and daughter.

She hit a low two days before Kelly and Dad got back, and found a box of utility razors in the garage. Instead of spending her time in front of her computer that night, she sat on the stool next to her dad’s workbench. She stared at the blades for more than an hour, fluctuating between tears and numbness, not sure what she was doing or why.

Eventually she collected herself enough to go back to her room. The body-wrenching sobbing seemed to cleanse her soul enough to kick her brain back on.

The incident faded from her mind. Her family came home, life went on. Until the day Dad was waiting for her when she got home from school.

“What are these?” He held up the box.

She bit back most of her sarcasm. “Utility razors.”

“Why were they on my workbench?”

“That’s where tools go.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His face contorted in a blink, and his shout echoed off walls. “I knew you were dim, but now you’re trying to kill yourself? Are you as stupid as your mother?”

The question snapped her restraint on years of frustration, hurt, and fury. “She was smart enough to find a way to escape you permanently.”

Her father slapped her hard enough to leave a bruise on her cheek. It was the first and last time he ever struck her.

Ash stood in Mischa’s driveway, looking at the thousands of square feet home that no man could possibly occupy by herself. That day eight years ago was also the last time she’d lived in a house this ostentatious. After the encounter with her father, she packed her bags and walked out. She figured Kelly would be fine; Dad loved her.

“Hey.” Mischa rested a hand at the small of Ash’s back. “You okay?”

“I’m good.” She focused on now and the flutter his touch sent through her. The roar of an engine grounded her further, and she turned in time to see a sporty Subaru park in the driveway.

The guy who climbed out was blond, gorgeous, and would have made pre-teen Ash swoon.

He let out a sharp whistle, and waved. She started to return the gesture when she realized it was for Mischa. A moment later he reached them. He winked at Ash before turning to Mischa. “Sorry I’m late. Couldn’t get away sooner.”

“Yeah. You just wanted to make us do half the heavy lifting.” Mischa’s reply was good-natured. “Tristan, my stunning fiancée, Ash. Ash, this is Tristan.”

“I know.” The response slipped out before she could stop it. “I mean, nice to meet you.” The little girl in her was giddy. Ash wasn’t that girl.

Mischa raised his brows. “You know?”

“Silver medalist, freestyle snowboard, two-thousand-two Winter Olympics.”

Mischa shook his head. “Hang on. I have to understand. You know who he is, but didn’t know who I was?”

“The woman’s got taste.” Tristan smirked.

Ash shrugged. “I was nine. Snowboarders are—were—sexier than skateboarders. You know?”

“I don’t, actually,” Mischa said. A smile lurked under his scowl.

“I totally do.” Tristan clasped her fingers and kissed the back of her knuckles.

She tugged her hand back, fighting a flush. “I mean as a general statement. I’m not saying in this case. Rather, I guess I just did, but I didn’t mean...” She was digging herself deeper with every word. The two pairs of eyes on her confirmed it.

Mischa rested a hand on her cheek, holding her gaze. “It’s fine. I promise. Just keep one thing in mind.”

“What’s that?” How did he steal her breath with such simple gestures?

He brushed his lips over hers. It was intoxicating, and rapidly becoming one of her favorite things. Which would make it easier to play nice in public. “The thing about snowboarders is they need that extra cushion of fluffy snow as a safety net. You should hear him bitch if he has to lay it down on anything less than eighteen inches of fresh powder. But,” Mischa drew his lips along the hollow behind her ear, speaking in a stage whisper, “skateboarders aren’t afraid of coming in hard and fast.”

“Ouch. I don’t have a counter for that.” Tristan laughed. He shook Ash’s hand. “Seriously, though. It’s nice to meet the woman who’s going to make my best friend into a decent man.”

“I’m not sure I’m capable of that.” She kept her tone light, drawing another round of laughs. The lighthearted aura the two radiated chased away the shadows lingering from her memories.

Tristan helped Mischa relocate hers and Kelly’s boxes from the SUV to the living room. As he gave her a tour, she struggled with the same disoriented feeling that had haunted her since he proposed two days ago.

“Why do you need so much space?” she asked, after he showed her the four bedrooms upstairs, plus a fifth that was his master bedroom. Her dad kept a huge house, but that was as much for show as practicality. She didn’t think Mischa fed his ego the same way.

“I host a lot of up-and-comers.”

That was reasonable, and made him even more attractive. She picked out two bedrooms on the second floor, down the hall from him. No reason to spread people out over the house.

Emma’s mother dropped Kelly off a short while later.

When Mischa showed Kelly around, she stopped in front of the door leading to the basement. “What’s down there?”

“Basement apartment,” Mischa said. “No one’s down there right now. You can stake your claim if you want.”

Ash might have let the last few days pass in a blur, but this offer pushed a new button. “She’s fourteen. She doesn’t need her own place.”

“It connects to the house. It’s more like giving her own room, plus a fridge and a microwave.” Mischa sounded as though it was the most reasonable thing ever.

And maybe it was. But it crawled under Ash’s skin and settled in and made her itch. She appreciated the way he made school work so easily for Kelly, but it had taken Ash a long time to establish that she made the rules.

Mischa wasn’t trying to override her authority, just be friendly. She had to remember that. “I don’t know,” Ash said.

“Please, Ashy.” Kelly looked at her with wide eyes.

“Please, Ashy.” Mischa mimicked the voice and expression.

She knew he was playing, but it didn’t alleviate her creeping concern. “Don’t.” She tried to keep the aggravation out of her voice.

“Lover’s quarrel already?” Tristan interrupted.

Mischa wrapped an arm around Ash’s waist. “Nope.” He nodded toward the basement door. “Kelly’s stuff goes down there.”

Ash clenched her jaw. It wasn’t a big deal unless she made it one. And it wasn’t as though he was using gifts to pit Ash and Kelly against each other. Mischa was just trying to make a good impression.

It didn’t take long to get their things where they belonged, despite the fact that Mischa wouldn’t let Ash carry anything heavier than her laptop. It was a little after one when the delivery guy showed up with pizza.

Kelly looked as at home as the men. She took a stool at the breakfast bar in a kitchen bigger than the place they just left behind, and dug into a slice of ham and pineapple. “What now?” she asked between bites.

“I cleared my calendar. Tristan stood across from them, leaning against a counter. “Rest of my day’s open, and it’s not like we’re getting lai—”

“I’ll show you the pool.” Mischa talked over him.

Ash didn’t suspect Kelly had any more difficulty interpreting the unfinished sentence than she did. “We don’t want to get in the way, or cramp anyone’s style.”

“You’re not,” Mischa assured her.

“In fact, I just remembered I’m having dinner with my sister tonight.” Tristan pushed away from the counter. “It was lovely meeting you, ladies.” He bowed, then turned to Kelly. “And as soon as there’s decent pack on the mountains, you’ll get your snow feet. Learn a real sport.”

With that, Tristan was gone.

“I almost forgot. Wait right here.” Mischa sprinted up the stairs, and returned a moment later with a plastic case in one hand, and a large box under his arm.

He handed the plastic case to Ash. “A housewarming gift.”

It was a CD with Master Remix #1 scrawled on it in black Sharpie. The gesture made her smile, and she couldn’t resist the desire to tease. “What is it?” She turned it over in her hands.

He stared at her. “A mix CD. A bunch of songs. Like a playlist.”

“I, um... Thanks?” She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a laugh from slipping out. His flustered expression made the teasing worth it. She pulled her phone from her pocket, and tapped the clamshell against the side. “I don’t think it fits.”

“It goes in a CD player. Like the one in your car?”

She didn’t know how much longer she could keep a straight face. “You mean that slotty thing above the radio? I thought that was an aux cord holder. You said this was a playlist. Does this plug into the internet? I don’t see an outlet. It’s kind of thin to have built-in Wi-Fi. Can I stream it?”

He gritted his teeth and studied her, his mouth twisted to the side.

A giggle escaped, turning to full-blown laughter. “I’m so teasing you.”

Mischa grinned. “Funny. And I mean that. It’s more personal this way. And you can listen to it in my car.”

She kissed him on the cheek, then pulled away quickly at the impulse. Was that allowed? They were supposed to sell the relationship, right?

His expression said he didn’t mind.

Kelly cleared her throat.

“Right.” He turned to her and handed over the box. “For you. I’m sorry if I ruined the last one.”

Kelly flipped the lid off, and gasped. She pulled out a new skateboard. The pink wheels glinted under the kitchen lights, and a stunning mural of roses and skulls decorated the top. “I love it. Can I ride it? It looks too nice to ride.”

Ash agreed. Something like that had to be worth several hundred dollars.

“You’d better ride it. I keep the pool drained, specifically for that. I’ll show you.” Mischa pointed toward the back patio.

The deck was concrete, leading to a kidney shaped pool with no water in it. As a swimming pool, it wasn’t big enough for anything more than lounging and a little playing. Empty, it was a one-person skate park.

“No way.” Kelly handed Ash her new board. “Be right back. No one is going to believe this. You said pictures were okay, right?”

Mischa opened his mouth, then glanced at Ash. She hid her smile at the subtle deference. “Pictures are fine as long as they follow the normal rules.”

“Yay.” Kelly sprinted inside.

“There are rules around pictures?” Mischa asked.

“Nothing with her face goes on her public Instagram, and nothing with personally identifiable information goes on Finsta or Rinsta.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mischa said.

Kelly returned with her phone, and grabbed the board back from Ash. “Gimme.” Kelly sounded playful and childish.

Ash rarely saw her sister let go. It would be nice if that was an option here.

Kelly set the skateboard on the patio, and snapped a few pictures. She jabbed her phone, then handed it to Ash. “Posted. No one is going to believe me. So epic.” She looked at Mischa. “Teach me to do tricks.”

“Kel-bel...” Ash stopped short of a warning that would come off as nagging.

“It’s okay.” Mischa didn’t look fazed by any of this. She wouldn’t mind learning how he did that. “I have to know what you can do first,” he said to Kelly. “Show me your best move.”

Her expression dropped, and she looked at her shoes. “No.”

“Why not?” Mischa’s question was kind.

“Because I just started. You’ll laugh at me.”

“I won’t.” Mischa strolled toward the pool, and waited near the edge. “Even I didn’t start out a master skater.”

“I know.” Kelly kicked an invisible spot on the ground.

“So, show me.”

Kelly let the skateboard roll to the bottom of the pool, and hopped in after it. She glanced up, and Ash gave her what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Kelly kicked off, skated up the edge of one wall, then back down.

As she picked up momentum, her hesitation faded. A few minutes later, she rolled to a stop, and looked at Mischa, expectation and terror on her face.

“Perfect.” He clapped. “Can you do a kick flip?”

Kelly shook her head.

“Board flat on the ground, and stand on top of it,” Mischa said.

Ash was surprised and pleased with his patience. She settled into a deck chair to watch.

He spent a couple of hours coaxing Kelly through simple steps, and making her practice each part until she had it right.

The sight tugged a string of melancholy in Ash. She and Kelly both missed out on a lot, with the way they grew up, but she felt like Kelly had missed more than Ash did.

She was having so much fun right now, though. Laughing in a way Ash rarely saw, and dropping the sarcastic edge she usually adopted around new people.

The thought lingered in Ash’s head, tying into and giving voice to concerns she already had but couldn’t vocalize. This arrangement wasn’t just about public displays of affection, or a place to stay for a few months.

She and Kelly had relocated a few times over the years, usually when the rent climbed wherever they were staying. This was different, though. She wasn’t just introducing someone new into her life, she was changing Kelly’s. In a bigger way than she expected, and it was only day one.

She prayed it wasn’t a mistake.

As the afternoon wore on, Ash saw her sister getting frustrated. Too many spills were wearing on her.

“Maybe we put the brakes on this for the day,” Mischa said, as Kelly landed on her ass for the fifth time in as many minutes. He offered her a hand, and tugged her to her feet.

“I almost have it.” A whine leaked into Kelly’s protest.

Mischa pulled himself up the edge of the pool with no effort. Muscle rippled under a T-shirt that clung to him after an afternoon of physical exertion in the sun.

Ash bit the inside of her cheek as she watched him move. Holy hell, this man was every level of daydream material. She wanted to draw her finger along the lines on his chest, and trace that single drop of sweat sliding down his neck.

“So you’ll almost have it tomorrow, too. And then you will have it.” He reached down to help Kelly out.

Ash thought about interrupting, and reminding her sister to be nice, but Mischa seemed to have it under control.

“I guess.” Kelly pouted.

Now Ash stepped in. “We still need to unpack. Kelly, go set your room up.”

“Does that mean I can stay down there?” Kelly asked.

The simple question was enough to quell one of Ash’s concerns. “Yes. Go.”

As Kelly scurried away, Ash didn’t know what she was supposed to do next. “We’ve intruded on you enough for the day. Thank you for everything.” Manners told her the words were appropriate, but they felt oddly formal with Mischa. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Wait.” Mischa grabbed her wrist.

It was loose enough she could break away without effort, but his rough fingers against her skin erased any desire to do so.

“Did I overstep today? Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He twisted his mouth in amusement. “To both?”

“Kelly and I have been alone for a few years, and Dad was a stricter with me than her.” Her voice caught on the half-truth. “Oldest/youngest syndrome, or something.” She tried to laugh and make light of it. Why was she telling him this? And why wouldn’t the words stop? “I’m not her parent, so it’s weird for me to find that spot between good guy and bad guy...”

“It looks like you’ve done okay so far. Unless she’s a terror when there’s no one else around.”

“She’s not. Kelly’s ninety-nine percent angel.”

Mischa studied her with that searching expression that stole her breath and fuzzed her thoughts. “That would make you one, too.”

“Huh?”

“You’re sisters. If she’s an angel, you’re one, too. Ангел мой.”

Her insides melted at the Russian. To her untrained ears, he’d said angel moy. She didn’t know what it actually meant. She could guess, but assuming seemed dangerous. Either way, she wanted to hear it again and again.

“Anyway, are we good?” Mischa asked.

“We’re good.” She wanted to close the last few inches between them. Place a palm on his chest and feel his heartbeat—was it racing like hers? Or maybe she’d steal a kiss.

She stowed the impulses, and tugged her wrist free, ignoring the disappointment that spilled inside. “I’ll be upstairs.”

But walking away didn’t erase the memories of his kisses. His kindness. How drop-dead hot he looked with his shirt plastered to his chest.

If she didn’t figure out what she wanted, at least short term, it was going to be a long couple of months.