My sneakers struck the pavement in a familiar cadence that felt so much better on a road than a treadmill. Winters House was a haven, but it was also becoming a trap. Or, it would if I didn't push the boundaries of my life. It was too easy to stay home, to bury myself in work. Especially with Sophie there.

With Sophie around, why would I want to leave?

If I wanted my life back, I had to start living it. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone running in the neighborhood, though when I'd lived here full time I’d done it every day. Buckhead was an urban anomaly: big lots, bigger houses, and winding lanes shaded by old-growth trees.

If someone dropped you in the middle of Buckhead, you'd think you were out in the country and not just north of the heart of Atlanta. Minutes away you’d find busy streets, high-end shopping, office buildings, and freeways, but here in the silence of early morning, I was surrounded by the trees and only the occasional passing car.

I had plans for the day, and they started with a run. When I got back, I’d hit the weights in the gym before I took a shower. A few hours of work, and then I was taking Sophie to lunch. We were having a family dinner that night to celebrate Annalise's return sometime that afternoon. Before the hordes of Winters descended, I wanted Sophie to myself.

The night before had been beyond anything I'd expected. I won't lie. Since the night we’d met when I grabbed her in the dark, I'd been imagining getting Sophie naked. I'd had my hands on her, and I knew what she was hiding under that bulky robe and her starched camp shirts.

For almost as long, I'd known this was about more than her body. Meeting Sophie had been a one-two punch—I touched her, I heard her voice, and I knew.

Sophie Armstrong was it for me.

Coming back to Winters House should have been it. Should have been the thing that made me feel at home. I'd grown up there. But when I'd walked through the door, I'd only felt out of place. With Sophie, I was home.

Everything about her called to me. Her stubbornness, her kindness. The deft way she handled Amelia—keeping her out of trouble without trying to squash her spirit. Her smile, and the sweet, soothing tones of her voice. It didn't hurt that she was sexy as hell and looked like an angel with all that silvery blonde hair and those green eyes.

By some kind of fucking miracle, she seemed to see something in me that she liked. We hadn't known each other long, but I knew in my gut that Sophie wouldn't have slept with me for sport. The way she kissed me, the way she’d stayed with me that night in the library. Sophie never would've let that happen unless she felt it too.

We had a chance for something if I didn't manage to fuck it up.

I wasn't going to fuck it up.

I grinned, remembering the way she’d gotten me to agree to talk to a shrink. Smart, stubborn, and a little sneaky. I liked it. It didn't hurt that she'd agreed to see one herself. I could deal with my own mess. I'd seen this kind of thing before. I knew what I was dealing with, and I knew it would be a lot easier to handle with help.

I just didn't want to go. Who did? No one. Especially guys like me. We spend our lives training to handle every eventuality. To never give up. To push to the end. Seeing a shrink is like admitting we can’t handle it. Fuck that. I can handle anything the enemy can throw at me. I've proven it over and over.

I could handle anything except the nightmares and the insomnia. The volatility and bursts of temper. That shit wasn't me.

It had been just over a month since I'd made my way out of that hidden camp in the desert. Too soon to expect to feel normal again. Fuck, I had no idea when I could expect to feel normal again. Another reason seeing a shrink wasn't a bad idea. All the times I’d given that advice to other guys, never thinking I’d have to take it myself.

If not for Sophie, I might've spent who knows how long insisting I could handle it on my own. One look into her green eyes, wet with tears, and I hadn't been able to say no. I could've gotten through my shit on my own. Eventually.

Sophie deserved better. Her husband had been dead for two years, and she was still trapped by fear. She deserved to move on. She deserved to feel whole and strong. Seeing a shrink wasn’t a magic pill that would fix everything, but it was a start.

I’d call Cooper first thing and see if he could recommend anyone. I knew he'd have a name for me, and I hoped he'd have one for Sophie as well.

Thirteen years ago I'd walked away from my life. I was ready to take it back. Sophie was my catalyst. She was my reason.

All those long months locked in a cell had given me time to plan. I’d decided I was coming home, decided I was taking back my place in my family and in our company, but it hadn't seemed real.

I'd walked through the doors of Winters House feeling out of place and off balance, as if my goals were a consolation prize. All my dreams felt like something to do because I didn't have anything else. I was alone, alive when I hadn’t expected to be, aimless and lost. Until Sophie.

She made me want more. For her, I wanted to be the man I imagined I could be. I wanted to give her everything she should have. A home. Stability.

Love.

Let's not bullshit around. I couldn't help but laugh at myself. Sophie had proven she was more than capable of providing her own home and her own stability. But I could give her love. I just had to convince her she wanted it.

I turned the corner on the loop that would take me back to Winters House and mapped out my strategy to win Sophie. She already had feelings for me, or she wouldn't have let me in her bed. And she liked having me there. No one was that good at faking it.

Sophie had loved the way I touched her, the way I’d fucked her. I wasn't above using sex to win her over. It wouldn't be a hardship for me. Finally getting into Sophie's bed might've been the high point of my life.

Just remembering the way she’d taken me, her gasps and moans, the feel of her heavy, full breasts in my hands, the way her fingers gripped my hair as she rolled her hips into mine.

Time for a new train of thought. Running with an erection is not fun, though that wasn't a problem I'd had before.

I needed to think. I needed a plan. I didn't think getting into Sophie's bed would be the problem. She might even invite me back if she wasn't second-guessing herself this morning. No, the hard part would be bringing our relationship into the open. As far as I knew, other than Aiden's vague warning before he left on his trip, no one had any idea there was something between us.

Knowing Sophie, she'd want to keep it that way. She’d say she worked for my family, which made me off-limits. Except, I was pretty sure Aiden would kick me out of the house before he'd fire Sophie.

If Aiden fired Sophie, Amelia would go ballistic. No one wanted to handle Amelia if she was pissed. I shuddered to imagine the shit she would pull without Sophie to rein her in. Sophie's position in Winters House was safe. I just had to prove it to her.

I tried to catch her at breakfast, but Mrs. W informed me that she and Amelia had left while I was in the shower, planning to eat out and then go for a walk in Piedmont Park and the Botanical Gardens.

After a few not-so-subtle questions I learned they didn't have any plans for the afternoon. I sent Mrs. W a wink and went upstairs to tackle the rest of the homework I'd gotten from Charlie. She’d said she had more when I was done with this batch and was ready to move forward. I was starting to get a picture of the scope of the company's dealings.

I wasn't ready to get back to work, but I would be soon, with Charlie's help. While I was at my desk, I made a few calls, nailing down details on wedding stuff too small for the planner to bother with. I sent Charlie a quick update email and let her know I’d be stopping by later.

When I was done, I touched base with the head of the Sinclair Security team at the house checking the alarm. So far they hadn’t been able to find a weak point in the system, but they were going to keep looking until they did. Someone was getting into Winters House without setting off the alarm. No one would be safe until we figured out how they were getting in and stopped them.

I was waiting in the kitchen when Sophie and Amelia returned, their cheeks flushed pink from the cold, Sophie laughing at something Amelia had said. She stopped short when she saw me, the color in her cheeks deepening to red. Her eyes met mine shyly, then flicked away.

To Amelia, I said, “If you two don't have plans, I'd like to borrow Sophie for a few hours.”

Amelia gave me a speculative look. “That depends. What did you want to do with her?”

“I thought I would take her out for lunch, then to Annabelle's for a hot chocolate. I have to stop and see Charlie, and I thought Sophie might want to see their new project.”

“It's not my day off,” Sophie started to say, but Amelia cut her off.

“Don't be silly. When a handsome young man wants to take you out to lunch, you don't spend the afternoon with an old lady.”

Sophie rounded on her, sending me a quick glare before saying to Amelia, “I can spend my afternoon how I want. And you are not an old lady.”

“Are you saying you don't want to go to lunch with Gage?” Amelia asked, sweetly. This was going better than I'd hoped. If Amelia was on my side, Sophie didn’t have a chance.

Before Sophie could answer, Mrs. W bustled in the kitchen and, seeing Sophie and Amelia, said “You're back. Will you want lunch or did you eat? Abel went to the market, but I can fix you a sandwich—”

“Soup and a sandwich are fine for me,” Amelia said. “Sophie and Gage are going out for lunch.”

Mrs. W turned and looked from Sophie's face, flushed and annoyed, to mine. She smiled and said, “That's lovely. You two have fun. The rest of the family will be here around five for pre-dinner cocktails, so make sure you’re back by then.”

“We will be,” I promised.

Sophie stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I can make my own decisions, and I never said I was going anywhere. It's not my day off. I shouldn’t—”

I stepped in front of her. Looking down, I said quietly, “Sophie, would you please take the afternoon off and come out to lunch with me?”

She let out a breath and stared up at me, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “Gage, I don't think we should—” she cut off and looked quickly from Amelia to Mrs. W, taking in their unabashed interest in our conversation. “It's not a good idea.”

“Why isn’t it a good idea?” Amelia interrupted in a strident voice. “Is there something wrong with my nephew?”

Sophie attempted a retreat, but her back hit the kitchen island, and she was stuck. She shook her head, looking at the three of us ranged around her and said, “Of course not. Of course, there's nothing wrong with Gage. But we shouldn’t—I can't just leave Amelia and—”

She sent Mrs. W a beseeching look. I braced. Mrs. W was notorious for her strict adherence to the line between help and family. Amelia might be on my side, but Mrs. W would be on Sophie's.

She shocked the hell out of me when she tilted her head to the side and studied Sophie, then me, and said, “I'll keep Amelia company, Sophie. Go out to lunch with Gage.”

We all stared at her in shock. Mrs. W went on, as if nothing were unusual, and said, “Gage, help get Amelia settled in the dining room. I'm going to make her soup and a sandwich, and I'd like a moment alone with Sophie.”