“What did you say? It’s so loud in here.” He couldn’t have said the boys were at Jack’s. I just had Jack on the brain.

“I’m sorry, Harper. Really. I know this is bad timing and all…with you guys and…but Audrey’s in a bad way, and if you could help us out, I’m sure Jack has had his fill of those two.”

No. No, no, no, no, no. I had to go to Jack’s to pick up the boys?

“Uh, yeah, of course. I can do that. Anything for you guys.” Even go to my ex-boyfriend’s place. Why not? Just because he was a lying, cheating philanderer doesn’t mean he should have to babysit two troublemakers. Although he was the master babysitter, like he proved last time.

“Oh, thank God. We’ve been so worried. He can give you a key to the house. Thanks again.” He hung up quickly, probably scared I’d change my mind.

“Audrey’s sick?” Riley asked, concern etched on her face. She pushed her drink over and concentrated on my face.

“Yeah, I have to pick up the boys. Sorry, I have to go right now.” I stood and grabbed my phone and purse, ready to take off.

“Hold on. I didn’t get your number,” Joe said as he pulled my hand back.

“I have to go,” I said, giving him a fake smile. Before I could snag my hand back, he’d written his number in big script on the inside of my wrist. Great. I turned around and rolled my eyes as I ran out.

It was still light out when I walked outside, and my eyes silently screamed as the sun temporarily blinded me. My hand shaded my face while I hustled to the car.

Don’t think about Jack. Don’t think about seeing Jack and smelling Jack and not being able to touch Jack. Dammit. This wasn’t working. My pulse sped up, and I had to keep wiping my palms on my bare legs as I drove. The skirt I wore was short, but even shorter when I sat down.

Calm down. He was just a man. All I had to do was go in, grab the boys, and leave. Boom. Done. At least that’s what my brain kept thinking. My heart, on the other hand, was cracking in half all over again at the thought of seeing Jack.

Stumbling into his building, I stopped and spoke to the doorman and explained what I was doing there. I didn’t remember Jack’s code, so someone would have to help me out. He was very accommodating.

“Yes, Miss Halle, Mr. McCallister is expecting you.” He followed me into the elevator and swiped his card. Oh God, my stomach twisted and turned like we were on a roller coaster instead of an elevator. I wondered if there was a way to extend the elevator ride for another hour or two so I didn’t have to deal with what I was going to see when the doors finally opened.

We stopped and the whoosh of the sliding metal displayed…pure and utter chaos?

“Here you are, Miss Halle. Good evening,” the doorman said before gently guiding me out of the small quiet box. My feet didn’t want to move, and my brain was just plain old confused with the scene in front of me. The sight I was greeted with was not congruent with how I’d formerly seen Jack’s penthouse.

The man in question strode quickly up to the entryway. “Thanks, Ed. I owe you.”

“No problem at all. Good luck with all your young people.” Ed chuckled before he exited into the solitary cone of silence. Ninety-nine percent of me wanted to escape with him. The other one percent wanted to go search for the lost and wounded that were surely in here.

Jack stood in front of me wearing only basketball shorts and a standard T-shirt. For some reason, I couldn’t stop looking at his bare feet. Was it possible to miss feet? Whenever we lazed around, he never wore socks or shoes, and on those long, quiet days, we often…yeah. Anyway.

Before he spoke, his hand raked through his messy hair. Was that a Cheerio that flew out of his hair? “Harper, look, I—” And that’s all he got out before Nicki barreled down the long staircase.

“You’re gonna need a plunger!” Nicki yelled, toilet paper stuck to his foot as he continued his descent.

“Christ, not again,” Jack snapped as he took off, bounding up the stairs, three steps at a time. I admired his flexing calves before he darted out of view. Hmm, I guess Murray hadn’t warned him that Nicki was a toilet clogger. Some kids just were, I guess?

With Jack gone, I had time to completely take in my surroundings. There was a lot going on here. Namely supreme mayhem.

Four different boxes of puzzles were scattered on the tile floor around me. All opened, all dumped indiscriminately, creating one large puzzle salad.

In the kitchen were freshly baked cookies lying on the stove and counter, and several were mashed into the floor.

Crumbs? Everywhere. Toys? Also everywhere. Not one square inch of Jack’s space failed to be covered with some kind of toy, cookie, cracker, or piece of clothing.

At least at their own house Audrey had a handle on the damage they could do. But here, it was a freaking free-for-all.

Beep, beep, beep. I heard the noise and glanced around to see if anything was on fire. Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if something had unknowingly been ignited.

“Yaaaaaaay, suppertime.” A rosy-cheeked cherub came running into the kitchen. Oh God. My breathing stopped. Dark waves surrounded her face full of sweetness. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered at me as she smiled. Just like her daddy.

“Is that noise the stove?” I asked the itty-bitty chef in training.

She giggled. “Yep. We wanna eat and watchashow,” she said, mashing the last three words together to make one. Her voice melted my ever-loving heart. A desire to pick her up and kiss those chubby cheeks overcame me.

“You do? Well, how about we check the oven first?” I suggested, praying it wasn’t some kind of fancy duck à l’orange or lobster bisque.

“Daddy says no touching stoves,” she said gravely, shaking her finger at me. This kid should be in commercials. This kid who also had a mother.

“Maybe we should get your mommy to help?” I asked, wondering if Beauty Queen was somewhere under all this mess.

“What? Mommy don’t live here, silly. She’s with Peter. Daddy is here. Just Daddy.” I see. Beauty Queen had moved on, it seemed. Although I was sad for any child whose family wasn’t together anymore, I had to admit part of me was relieved that her dad didn’t cheat. Well, not with me anyway. Who knows what led to their breakup.

“Harper, grab the crap out of the oven, will ya?” Jack screamed from the top floor. Yikes, he was still in the bathroom. I knew it was horrible of me. Impolite even. But I laughed at the display before me and also at the one I imagined going on upstairs.

Oven mitts. Check. Make sure all kiddos were nowhere near me. Check. I opened the oven, and a familiar smell assaulted my nose. The gasp that came out could be heard for miles, I was sure of that. Chicken fingers and French fries. Good Lord. What was the world coming to? Mister-I-Don’t-Eat-Processed-Food had an oven full of exactly that.

The battered goodness sizzled and popped as I placed the pan onto the gas stovetop. Where was my phone? I needed to take a picture of this for proof.

“Are you taking a selfie with my chicken fingers and fries?” Jack said belligerently, now halfway down the stairs. Oops. Caught.

“Just checking the lighting in here,” I said with an evil smirk on my face.

“Yeah, riiiight,” he said, eyeing me suspiciously. “Will I be seeing a video of all this on social media later?” he asked, swinging his arms out.

I shrugged. “Not quite sure yet.” I tapped my index finger on my lips, perhaps just a bit more seductively than I meant to.

“Okay, move your gorgeous ass over before you get grease on that outfit,” he said, looking me over, lingering a bit longer than acceptable on my legs.

“Jack said the A word,” Levi screeched with glee as he tore through the living room and up the stairs.

“Hey, little boy. Get down here and sit like a normal human being. Who said you could tear through Jack’s house like it was a playground? And who made all this mess? It looks like a warzone in here. Jack invites you two over, and this is how you thank him?” I said, frowning at the sad-faced kid dragging his feet.

“It was mostly Nick’s fault,” he mumbled, sticking out his bottom lip.

“Was not,” Nick shouted from the living room while jumping from cushion to cushion in his underwear. Just underwear.

“Nicki,” I said a little louder than intended. “Where the heck are your clothes?”

“I dunno,” he answered, a bit out of breath from his exploits.

“Well, I suggest you find them. Boys who don’t wear clothes don’t get to sit at the table for supper.”

Levi belly-laughed at his brother’s big eyes and wide-open mouth. Jack’s daughter climbed down from her chair and toddled into the living room and dug out some wrinkled clothes from under the couches. Hmmm, I wonder how those got under there? She handed them to Nick.

“What do you say?” I asked him after he forgot his manners. Again.

“Thank you, Ava,” he said, yanking on his pants and shirt faster than the wind. It was likely overkill to get him to thank the sneaky little girl who probably hid his clothes on purpose, but Nicki should have kept his freaking clothes on his body in the first place.

Ava. The sweet, little cherub’s name was Ava. Finally knowing her name gave me goose bumps for some reason.

The three of them ate in companionable silence, munching away on the crunchy mechanically separated chicken product. Jack sighed and cut up some fruit for them, trying to balance out their plates. It looked sad, and I may have giggled.

I never expected to have such a change of heart so quickly, but seeing Mr. Perfect in the middle of such an astronomical fail—in his mind—was reward enough for the three weeks of heartache he’d caused. Well, not quite, but it was definitely a start.

“How come Auntie Harper gets to draw on herself? Mom always yells at us and gives time-outs when we do that,” Nick said, frowning as he dipped his fries into a huge lake of ketchup.

“What are you talking about? I don’t draw on myself,” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

“Right there, on your arm.” Oh shit. Jack grasped my arm with both of his hands and turned it over to display Joe’s phone number. He sharply inhaled air, but breathed out fire as his eyes told me exactly what he thought of me and the number sequence temporarily tattooed on my wrist.

“Oh, that’s prolly just her phone number. Our teacher did that to Evan when he couldn’t remember his,” Levi countered. Helpful as always.

“Auntie Harper, don’t worry. Alls you need to do is sit down with Mom at the kitchen table. She won’t let you up until you learn it,” Nicki said, picking off the batter from his chicken.

“Mom said she would tie me to the chair if she had to. But our number is easy to remember, and I’m really smart, so it only took one whole day,” Levi added. “My butt got sore from sittin’ so long, but I know it now. Most of the time.” He shrugged, still chewing his fries with an open mouth.

This whole conversation would have been cute, funny even, if a certain crazy caveman weren’t still latched onto my arm with the look of murder in his eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jack ground out through clenched teeth. The boys were still too busy giving lectures about phone numbers and all the times they drew on themselves—and each other—to hear Jack, thank goodness.

I had no answer for Jack, other than to stare at him in fear. I’d never seen that possessive look he was giving me before. On anyone. The man was incensed. The thick vein in his neck was throbbing and his nostrils flared. Yikes.

He pulled me to the oversized kitchen sink and squirted a gallon or two of soap onto my arm and commenced scrubbing, washing, rinsing. Repeat. Whatever writing implement Joe had used, it was on there for life. Slightly faded, but still more than legible.

“Relax, it’ll come off eventually,” I said, attempting to take my arm back. Mr. Caveman was not having it, though.

“Have you memorized it yet? Because I have, and I’m about thirty seconds away from calling the douche who touched you and wrote on you and fuck knows whatever else.” His eyes reached into my soul and I stood there, unable to breathe. Jack was livid at the thought of me being with someone else. He assumed the worst and, boy, was he infuriated.

“Nineteen days. Nineteen days you wouldn’t answer my calls, texts, nothing. And now I see that you’ve moved on? Not even three weeks and you’ve found someone?” he said, his voice low and trembling. The man was trying his best to rein it in, but he was failing miserably.

“First of all, you lied to me. There’s nothing more to discuss,” I hissed, and again tried to take back my arm.

“There’s a fuck of a lot to discuss, and you just cut me right out of your life. No explanation required. How could you do that? Yes, I should have told you, but to just—”

“Daddy, more fries?” Tiny Jack interrupted us, face full of smiles and rainbows.

“One second, honey. Daddy needs to help Harper with her graffiti,” he spouted off, then turned and opened a high cabinet and brought out a bottle of whiskey.

“Here, have some of my fries. I’ve got a bunch,” Nick offered her.

“A bit early in the evening for booze, no? Especially with children around? Geez, Jack,” I snarked and shook my head.

He glared at me, but still didn’t release my arm. With one hand, he unscrewed the bottle and let the cap fall where it may. Then he tilted the bottle over my arm.

“What are you doing?” I gasped as the cool amber liquid splashed onto my arm. Jack said nothing. He just grabbed a towel and wiped gently at the faded numbers until they disappeared. One more rinse and he chucked a fresh towel at me.

His hands on the edge of the sink, he let his head fall. “After everything we went through, you just tossed it. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.” He lifted his head enough to lock eyes with me, and that hit me. Hard.

“You failed to mention an entire human being with half your DNA. How long did you think you could keep that a secret? And a W-I-F-E?” I countered, still pissed off, but I had to admit something. Witnessing how mad Jack was in person and watching him unravel before me shined a whole new light on the situation.

He was pissed.

Eyes rolled back as he shook his head, he said, “Ex-W-I-F-E. Very, very ex.”

I took a deep breath to calm myself, figuring one of us should remain sane. “Well, how was I supposed to know that?” I said, fists clenched at my side. “She comes waltzing into the restaurant with your mini me calling me your ‘girl of the week.’ What would you think?” I asked, eyebrows raised in question.

Deflated, he ambled over to me and set both his hands on my shoulders. The heat from his skin penetrated my skin as well as my resolve. “I’d think your boyfriend was a spineless D-I-C-K for not telling you. I’d think you deserved better than him treating you like that. I’d think that’s a really C-R-A-P-P-Y thing to do to someone you love.”

My eyes, ears, and heart did a double take. Did he just say what I thought he said? “Did—”

But I was cut off with, “I’m sorry, Harper. From the bottom of my worthless cold heart, I’m sorry. So many times I wished I could go back and…ahhhh. I wished I could go back and not be so afraid of scaring you off. But that’s exactly what I did anyway, frightened you away.”

“Why didn’t you trust me? You should have told me.”

“You said you never wanted K-I-D-S, and I was terrified you’d give up on me, on us, before I even got my foot through the door.” He squeezed my arms.

“Well, you got more than your foot through the door. That’s for sure.” I sighed.

His beautiful deep brown eyes squinted at me. “Yeah,” he said and smiled his sexy-ass grin. “Forgive me?” he asked, rubbing his rough hands up and down my arms. Gently, he lifted my chin with his index finger. “Harper Halle, I am so in love with you, sometimes I can’t see straight. You’ve stolen my heart like no one else, and there’s no way I can get through this life without you. I’ve been a complete basket case since the night you left. Can you forgive me? Please?” he whispered the last part against my lips, and there was no willpower left in me to fight. His words, his touch, his mouth. It was all too much.

My lips met his halfway in a sensual reunion. I felt weightless, like I was floating in his arms that wrapped around me, pulling my more than willing body into his. Eagerly, I put my hands behind his neck to clutch him to me for as long as I could. His tongue entered my mouth and fought with mine, showing me how much he missed me. The kiss wasn’t a kiss so much as a declaration of you’re mine. There was nothing to do but give in. Let me clarify that. There was nothing more that I wanted to do than give in to him.

I breathed in his cologne, and my mind’s memory rejoiced. Instantly, my body relaxed into his, and he groaned, “I missed you so much.” His arms crushed our bodies together as he held me close.

“Me, too,” I murmured against his hard, muscular chest. His heart beat triple time against my cheek.

“Shit,” he said and stopped moving.

“What?” I asked, looking up at his blank face.

“It’s quiet.”

“Okay?” I laughed, not knowing what he was talking about.

“It’s way too quiet. Nothing good happens when these three are quiet. Trust me,” he said while his eyes searched the vicinity for naughty children.

Realization kicked in, and I whispered, “Oh shit.”

“Exactly.”