It started with a kiss...

Ian North is the one person Darcy Maguire can always count on. So when her daughter’s biological father shows up unannounced, she knows Ian will do whatever it takes to help. A kiss, however, is the last thing she expects.

Suddenly their little white lie is out of control. They’re spending Father’s Day with Ian’s family and lying about being a couple. Only pretending isn’t enough for Darcy anymore. Ian is the best father her daughter could have, and she’s ready to make it official. But how can she know for certain where the lie ends and reality begins?

“Darce, it’s been a crazy couple of days. We can’t—”

“You’re right.” She nuzzled his chest. “But what if I told you that I’ve been thinking about this for a lot longer than the past couple of days?”

“You have?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She stood on tiptoe, kissed the corner of his mouth. “And I think you have, too.”

“God, Darce,” he said, and there might have been more but his words were lost as she kissed him, really kissed him, all heat and need and melting into him. She gripped his shoulders and curled against him, kissing him again and again with absolutely no one watching.

“Darce,” he said against her neck. “God, Darce, I’ve wanted you so long, but I didn’t— I can’t—”

“Oh, yes you can.”

His hands landed low, pulling her tight while his hips pushed against hers, and the rush of need had her digging her fingers into his shoulders to keep herself upright.

“We should think this over,” he said even as he molded her to him. “Get our heads clear.”

“I’ve done enough thinking. I want to feel.”

Dear Reader,

Books are often compared to children. I have found this to be truest when considering how parents must learn that what works with one child won’t necessarily work with his or her sibling. Similarly, the process that enabled an author to write one book won’t always come in handy when it’s time to develop the next one.

I explored many different ways to tell this story. Some things have stayed constant all along, such as the main characters (three adults, one baby and a dog, though their names sometimes changed hourly) and the primary issue (the sudden reappearance of a biological daddy makes a pair of friends pretend to be lovers). But the how of telling the story eluded me until my amazing editor Piya said, “Hmm, what if you tried...”

With that, the true direction of this story was revealed. Darcy, Ian and the rest of the characters were free to come to life, take control of the book and make it fully their own. It seems that in writing, as in parenting, sometimes the best thing to do is to put the pieces in place, step back and prepare to be amazed.

I’d love to hear from you, either through my website (krisfletcher.com) or the group blog run by the Superromance authors (superauthors.com). I can’t promise to make the characters behave when you visit, but I can promise a very warm welcome.

Yours,

Kris

A Family Come True

Kris Fletcher

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KRIS FLETCHER has never faked a relationship, but she does take great delight in pulling the wool over her loved ones’ collective eyes. Ask her about the ancient ultrasound incident. People have almost forgiven her for that one.

Kris grew up in southern Ontario, went to school in Nova Scotia, married a man from Maine and now lives in central New York. She shares her very messy home with her husband, some of their kids and a growing population of dust bunnies.

This one is for Larry, who may or may not have been the inspiration for the socks-as-mittens portion of this book, but who definitely inspired the I-love-yous.

Acknowledgments

Renee Kloecker and Jen Talty, who provided peaceful cottage retreats when I needed them most.

My fellow playground mommies, for not being freaked out when I started taking notes on their children’s behavior to refresh my baby-deprived memory. Special thanks to my neighbor Carrie, who patiently answered my questions about life with a one-year-old and indulged my need to remember how it felt to hold a little one again.

The usual people who make it possible for me to write a book—Larry, the kids, the Purples, Agent Extraordinaire Jessica Faust, and Piya Campana, the World’s Most Patient and Insightful Editor.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE MAN HOVERING at the entry to Ian North’s garage was very tall, very blond, and very late.

“Hey, Ian. Long time no see.”

“Xander?” Ian tugged his work gloves from his hands and set them on the anvil where, moments earlier, he had been happily pounding the hell out of a piece of hot iron while singing along to some vintage Queen. With a glance to make sure everything in his home forge could be safely ignored for a few minutes, he ventured toward his old college roommate. “What are you doing back here?”

Xander pulled sunglasses from his face and hooked them casually over the neck of his silky black tee. “I came to get my dog.”

“Your dog? Are you nuts?” Thank God Lulu was having a late-afternoon visit to the park with his landlady and her daughter. “She’s not yours anymore, buddy.”

“Sure she is. I told you I’d be back for her.”

“You said you’d be back in a month or so.” He crossed his arms and widened his stance. “By my count, two years is a lot longer than a month or so.”

Something flashed through Xander’s eyes—something Ian would have sworn was determination if not for the fact that the only times Xander had ever shown real resolve were when sex, beer or his latest get-rich-quick scheme were involved.

“It hasn’t been that long. A year, year and a half, max. I’m here, just like I said I’d be.” Xander peered past him. “What are you doing back there anyway? Making horseshoes?”

Ian thought of the final touches he’d just finished on a detailed picture frame for his dad. Horseshoes. Right. “Not quite. Now, if the only reason you’re here is for my dog, you should leave. I’m busy.”

“That’s it? No ‘Hey, Xander. Good to see you!’ No ‘Jeez, I hope everything was okay.’ Not even a simple ‘Where’ve you been?’”

“I don’t need to ask.” With one finger Ian pushed his safety glasses above his forehead, squinting against the sudden vibrancy of mid-June. In winter, southwestern Ontario was a sea of white, but now the reds of the flowers, the green of the grass and the blue of the sky could be blinding. “I got all the info I needed when the police came looking for you a couple months after you left. Are you on the run or did you land in the pen?”

Xander’s face lost some color. Ian cursed.

“Seriously?”

“It was victimless, okay? A little cyber project that got sidetracked. No one got hurt.”

“Except the little old ladies you bilked out of their life savings.”

“Hey, I don’t do that stuff. I just help people find their way into companies. Nothing with actual individuals.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still— Ah, jeez. You knew you were going to jail, didn’t you? That’s why you left Lulu with me.”

Xander had the grace to look down as he scraped his foot against the cracked pavement of the driveway. “Look, when I left, I knew that the situation wouldn’t be good for a puppy. Then things got out of hand and— Anyway, that’s all in the past. I paid my debt to society. I’m a changed man and I want my dog.”

“Let’s review the facts, Xander. Two years ago—oh, pardon me, not that long but I don’t feel like doing the math—you asked if you could stay with me for a week. In a moment of foolishness I said yes.” Though to be honest, at that time Ian had been new in Stratford, running from a major life curve that had left him shell-shocked and heartsore. Xander’s request had been a welcome distraction. “When the week turned into a month, I didn’t say anything. When you brought Lulu home, I didn’t say anything. When you took off and left me with her and thirty bucks for food—okay, I said some things then, but you weren’t here so they don’t count. Now, though, you’re here, so listen up. She was a puppy when you left. You only had her two weeks. Not yours anymore.” He poked Xander in the chest. “Go back to your computer and do something useful, like making some multinationals pay taxes.”

But Xander didn’t move. “Look, I know I took advantage of you. But I had a lot of time to think while I was away, and I see what an idiot I’ve been. From now on it’s nothing but the straight and narrow for me. I have a job lined up—totally legit—and I’m starting over. Just me, the future and my dog.” Xander’s eyes darted around the garage, lingering on the steps leading to Ian’s second-floor apartment. “By the way, where is she?”

Ah, hell. Ian remembered that tone. Xander’s persistence lasted about as long as a boy band’s fame, but when he first dived into something he gave it his all. Which meant that right now there would be no changing his mind. Only time and the inevitable roadblocks could do that.

The good news was that if Ian could put the guy off for a day or two, Xander would see something shiny and move on. The bad news was that Lulu and company could return at any minute.

If he could just buy himself a little time...

“She’s not here.”

“Why not? Is she at the vet? Is she sick?”

“She’s fine. She’s healthy and strong and she can eat me under the table. She went on an outing with friends.” Vagueness was his ally. At least, he hoped so. “She’s happy here, Xander. If you want a fresh start, do it right. Get yourself a new dog.”

Xander shook his head. No surprise there. “Nope. One of the things they taught us when I was...away...was about seeing ourselves in our new lives. They had us figure out all the details. Every time I did it, Lulu was in the picture. I don’t want any old dog. I need her.”

Ian’s fear level rose from Damn, I don’t need this to Crap, this could get bad. Xander sounded serious. This might still be nothing more than a whim, but given that Xander was the one who’d bought Lulu in the first place, things could get complicated.

Ian hated complicated.

“Listen, Xander, I’m in the middle of a project and I need to get moving. You should do the same.”

Xander shook his head, crossed his arms and leaned against Ian’s prized Mustang. “I’ll wait.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You know,” Xander said with a sigh, “there was a time when you would have invited me in and we could have talked this out over a beer.”

“And there was a day when you wouldn’t have disappeared without so much as a Facebook post. Guess we’re even.” He returned to the anvil and made a show of examining the cross-peen hammer he’d been using. Yeah, it was juvenile, but hey, Xander wasn’t the only one who could trot out the tough act.

Too bad it didn’t work. Xander ambled into the garage, hands in his pockets, eyes darting from the forge to the anvil to the wall of hammers and files.

“You know, Ian, I’m thinking I got us off on the wrong foot here. How about we start over? I walk in and say, ‘Hey, buddy, long time no see.’ Then you say, ‘Xander! Talk about a sight for sore eyes!’ And I say, ‘Same here. How are your folks? How long have you been playing Little House on the Prairie? How’s work and your pretty little landlady and my dog?’”

Pretty little landlady? If Darcy heard Xander describe her that way, she’d be the one hefting hammers. “I have another idea. You see this?” Ian lifted a curved length of forged iron. “I think this would make a great hook. You know, for grabbing your sorry, law-breaking runaway ass and dragging it to the curb before I—”

His words were interrupted by the sound he’d been dreading most—the excited bark of a dog approaching home, followed immediately by Darcy’s resigned laughter. Lulu must have gotten away from her again.

Sure enough, a second later the driveway was a riot of movement and sound as a yipping, panting streak of beagle blend raced closer, dragging her leash behind her. And unless Ian missed his guess, Lulu was heading straight for him, with barely a curious glance in Xander’s direction.

Mine.

Ian raised his hand. Lulu came to a quivering halt at the entrance to the garage.

“Good girl. Stay.”

Xander crouched. “Lulu? It’s me, girl! Come here.”

Lulu whined and cocked her head but didn’t move. Nor did she seem remotely interested in her onetime owner.

Xander pursed his lips—planning to whistle, no doubt—but Ian shook his head. “Save your breath. I’ve taught her to wait there until I tell her it’s okay. Too many dangerous things in here.”

“Oh. Right. I never thought of that.”

Of course he hadn’t. Xander and responsibility were about as well acquainted as rap and polka.

“So, can I go to her?” Xander asked.

Huh. Ian couldn’t remember Xander ever waiting for anything, let alone requesting consent. His motto had always been that it was better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. Maybe the time in jail really had taught him a thing or two.

“Hang on. We have a routine.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

The excited edge to Xander’s voice wasn’t doing much for Ian’s peace of mind, but he pushed himself through the steps. Check the anvil, check the forge, check the—

“Sorry, sorry.” Darcy’s laughing apology made him spin around to see her stumbling up the driveway, one hand pushing a stroller loaded with toys, the other curled around the baby bouncing on her hip. Lulu must have led her on a merry chase. The neck of Darcy’s blouse veered way over to the side, and her shoulder-length, cinnamon-brown hair curled in every direction. She was a flustered mess, but as always, seeing her made him grin. Even despite Xander’s presence.

“I thought I had a good grip on Lu,” she called as she approached. “But Cady decided Mommy was overdressed and yanked my blouse half off, and I had to either switch the leash or risk arrest for public indecency. But I messed up and she got away and I—”

She stopped just behind Lulu, the hand that had been pushing the stroller rising to shield her eyes as she peered into the shadowy garage. Her cheeks turned as pink as Cady’s ruffled sun hat, which had slipped backward, exposing the pale blond head it was supposed to protect.

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.”

“It’s okay.” He walked over to her, automatically taking Cady as she launched herself into his arms.

Xander pushed upright. “Hey, Darcy,” he called as he ambled into the light. “Long time no—”

He stopped abruptly. Darcy’s eyes flew open and she reached across Ian’s chest until her hand landed on Cady’s thigh. A small sound slipped free, one he couldn’t identify because he’d never heard it before, but his gut told him it wasn’t good, especially when she stepped closer to him. His arm went around her shoulders.

Lulu whimpered.

“Darce?” Xander’s voice was filled with confusion and uncertainty and something that sounded like shock. This was more than a simple greeting. What the hell?

Xander shuffled forward as if he’d forgotten how to walk. Darcy pressed closer to Ian. His arm tightened protectively.

As Xander emerged into the sunshine, the light glinted off his very blond hair. Hair that was a perfect match for that on the head now resting against Ian’s chest. The tiny head of the wriggling child who had just celebrated her first birthday.

Two years ago—oh, pardon me, not that long but I don’t feel like doing the math—

All of a sudden the math took on a terrifying significance.

“Ian?” Darcy whispered. “Would you take Cady inside, please? Xander and I need to talk.”

* * *

DARCY MAGUIRE HAD always considered herself a woman of action. In her life BC—Before Cady—there had never been a disaster she couldn’t work around, including the time a blizzard had stood between her mother and a major performance. All that had taken was an hour on the phone, a fistful of money and a snowplow driver willing to serve as a taxi.

If only this could be that easy.

Ian did as she asked without so much as a blink, settling Cady on his shoulder and whistling for Lulu to follow him to the house.

Seeing him holding Cady was a welcome anchor. The rest of her world might be falling apart at the stitched-with-secrets seams, but her little girl was safe and happy in the best possible hands.

Ian had been blindsided. He was probably going to be hurt that she hadn’t trusted him with the truth about Cady’s paternity. But as she watched him walk away, she held tight to the fact that no matter how much she might bungle the next few minutes, Ian would make sure Cady was fed and diapered and kept laughing. This one little corner of the world would be fine.

Meaning Darcy had no excuse to put off the conversation waiting to pounce on her.

At the muffled slam of the screen door, she risked a look at Xander. His blue-gray eyes stayed fixed on the steps that Ian and Cady had mounted. She tugged her neckline and hoped everything was back in place. She didn’t want to find out she’d conducted the most important conversation of her life with a wardrobe malfunction.

Assured that she was as decent as was possible, she pulled herself upright. “Let’s go out back.”

Xander dragged his understandably blank gaze from the steps to her. She led him to the yard and the picnic table where two summers ago she, Ian and Xander had whiled away long summer evenings with a few beers and a lot of laughs. Maybe the vibrations of that laughter still lingered here. Maybe they would make it possible for her and Xander to get through...whatever...with the same purpose: to do what was best for her—their—daughter.

Dear God, she hoped she could do a better job of navigating Cady through whatever came next than her own mother had done for her.

While Xander straddled the bench, Darcy climbed onto the patio table, settling under the shade offered by the bright blue umbrella Ian had added the previous summer. Babies shouldn’t get too much sun, he had said when she’d come home from the hospital with her newborn. And you can’t put sunblock on them, but I know you’ll want to sit outside with her. I thought this might make it easier.

Maybe she shouldn’t have sent Ian away with Cady. For the past year he had been the one she’d looked to whenever she was sure she was screwing up this parenting gig, which usually happened at least twice a day. Every time he would laugh and tell her she was doing fine, and when she would insist that this time she had really blown it, he would shake his head, grin and say, “Just trust me, Darce.”

She really wished she could see him now, rolling his crinkly bronze eyes in the way that meant he thought she was being a total dork but he knew she would figure it out.

“So...” She sandwiched her hands between her bent knees. If she couldn’t see them trembling, she might be less nervous. “I know you must have a lot of questions, but this will probably be easier if you let me talk first, okay?”

His slow nod was chased by a swifter shake of the head. “Wait. First. I— Is she— That baby. She’s really...?”

His question hung in the air between them, unfinished but no less decisive. Once she answered him, she knew the life she had built—her and Cady with a big side of Ian—was all going to change. And most of it would depend on Xander. Someone not family. Someone she knew far less than she should.

It was a feeling she knew all too well, and it was no more welcome now than it had been in the past. Except now it was worse, because it was going to impact Cady.

She took a deep breath. Facts first. Future later.

“Yes.” Damnation, her hands were still quivering. Clamping her knees tighter—right, Maguire, now you remember to keep your knees closed—she forced out the words she’d been dreading for the past year and eight months. “Yes, Xander. She’s your daughter.”

Somewhere nearby a bird let loose with a delighted trill. Talk about surreal. First Xander reappeared, now her life was turning into a frickin’ Disney princess adventure complete with animals performing on cue.

“Holy...”

She knew the feeling. On that morning a lifetime ago, when she had finally dragged her gaze away from the test stick in her hand to stare at herself in the bathroom mirror, she had seen that same horror-movie expression now appearing on Xander’s face. Yet when she looked closely, she saw in his eyes that same contradictory hint of amazement that had gripped her, as well. That had to be a good sign. Right?

“I did try to find you. To tell you,” she added quickly. “But Ian said he hadn’t heard from you since you left, and I—”

“Wait a minute.” He backed up an inch or so. “We only— It was just that one night. Once.”

She didn’t need to remind him that one drunken night and one ancient condom didn’t always add up to zero consequences.

“And you were with what’s-his-name, the jerk who dumped you—”

“Jonathan.” Thank heaven she could say his name calmly now, as opposed to the way she had shrieked it, cursed it and blubbered it back then. “I thought that myself at first, but I did the math, checked when he had been out of town and the last time he and I— Anyway, there’s no way it could have been him.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. But you’re more than welcome to have whatever tests done that you would like. I wouldn’t blame you.”

The lazy grace she had come to associate with Xander that summer had disappeared. “I don’t need— Well, yeah. Maybe I should... Jesus.” Long fingers scrubbed his face. “I don’t know what to say, Darce.”

“It’s kind of a shocker, I know.”

“Yeah, I guess you would.”

His short attempt at a laugh reassured her. At least he wasn’t going to pass out. Nor had he run away screaming or shown more than an understandable uncertainty about his role in Cady’s conception. So far, so good.

She glanced toward the back door, hoping against hope that Ian and Cady would be watching from the window. Of course, they weren’t. Ian most likely had Cady in her high chair, zooming spoonfuls of yogurt toward her mouth while she slammed her “practice” spoon on the tray. Or he would be changing her diaper, making up another installment in the Saga of Lulu and Cady that he was forever spinning for her. Normal. Familiar. Comforting.

Except...oh, that awful blankness on his face when he’d taken Cady from her...

“So, I don’t know where you were, but you could teach classes in disappearing, because seriously, I couldn’t find you. Ian had no idea, either.” Not that she had told Ian why she’d wanted that information, of course. She had told him she was worried about Lulu.

Was that why he had looked so hurt? Because she hadn’t told him the truth?

“I thought about hiring a private investigator, but you know, those guys cost a lot of money and I...well, I had a lot of unexpected expenses, as I’m sure you can understand.” Unexpected expenses coupled with a drastic readjustment of her job. Not that she minded, really. Accompanying her mother around the globe had had its moments, but if Darcy had to spend her life catering to a diva, she would take Cady over her mom any day.

“Expenses. Right.” Xander’s face grew a couple of shades paler. “Oh, shit. I’m going to have to pay child support. And it’s all retroactive, isn’t it?”

“I don’t— Look, that’s important, but, believe it or not, it’s not my biggest priority right now, okay? So don’t freak. I’m not going to sic a bunch of lawyers on you.”

His quivering eased the tiniest bit.

“What did you— Jesus, I didn’t even catch her name. Katie?”

“Cady. Short for Cadence. Cadence Joy Maguire.”

“That’s pretty.”

“Thanks.”

She hazarded another glance at the door. Foolish, she knew. Even if Ian wasn’t juggling child and dog, even if she had completely misread him, he would never spy on her.

But, damn, it would be nice to see his face for a second.

“So she—Cady— Damn. I don’t even know what I should be asking.”

Darcy might be swimming in a sea of uncertainty herself at the moment, but talking about Cady was something she could always do.

“She just turned a year. June seventh. She’s right on target for all her milestones. She has five teeth, and another one is trying to break through, so she’s a little cranky right now, but mostly she’s happy and bouncy. She’s a really amazing little thing, and once we made it past those first few weeks, it’s been the most exhausting and exhilarating rush I’ve ever had.” All true. She had barely ever imagined herself as a mother, let alone a single one, but now life before Cady was a distant memory.

The drumming of Xander’s fingers on the tabletop came to an abrupt halt.

“I want to see her again.”

“Right. Of course.” This was good. Wasn’t it? Every kid deserved to have a dad who wanted to be with her. Some of Darcy’s most cherished memories were of her late father. “We’ll have to work out some kind of schedule,” she said past the lump in her throat. “And I think that while she’s so little, you should visit her here, you know? Until she gets to know you and feels comfortable around you.”

Xander stared at her as if she had spoken in Shakespearean English. “I mean I want to see her right now.”

“Oh.” Relief made her laugh sound fake even to her. “Of course. I... Jeez, I guess I’ve had a few too many sleepless nights. You know, with that tooth coming in.”

He wasn’t talking about taking Cady on overnights or trips or any of those other scenarios that had made her wonder, wildly, if it was possible to stuff a one-year-old back in the womb. He simply wanted to see her now. One bullet dodged.

But not for long, she knew.

Cady was Xander’s as much as hers. He had rights. Moral ones and legal ones. And she would have to honor them.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Darcy. I know Xander is entitled to be in Cady’s life, but could we maybe spread things out a bit here? One step at a time, with lots of space between them?

Inch by slow inch she pushed herself down from the table, amazed that her feet still worked when she stood on them.

A familiar bark interrupted her worry. Inside the house Lulu pawed at the back door, jumping and whining the way she always did when she spotted the freedom of the yard. Darcy stood a little straighter. Lulu at the door meant that Ian would be right behind her, which meant that Darcy would have someone at her side while she introduced Cady to her father.

Not the answer she’d expected to her semi-serious prayer, but she would take it.

“Just so you know, I wasn’t trying to avoid you guys after I left,” Xander said.

Ian appeared, slightly stooped so he could hold Cady’s upraised hands while she walked. He nudged open the door. Lulu bounded forward, leaping and yipping and rolling in the grass at Darcy’s feet.

“You’ll find out anyway, but I’d rather you hear it from me. It sounds worse than it really is.”

Xander was nattering on and she knew she should be listening, but she had to watch Ian. Because he wasn’t coming outside, and he wasn’t looking at her. In fact, if the heaviness in her stomach could be believed, he was doing his best to avoid her gaze.

She edged Lulu out of the way and moved toward the door. She could be strong and get through the next half hour, but not until she’d held Cady, not until she’d seen Ian’s smile that always made her feel she could handle whatever lay ahead.

“The thing is, Darce, you couldn’t find me because I was in jail.”

CHAPTER TWO

XANDER AND I need to talk.

Xander and I.

The words had pounded through Ian as he’d carried Cady into the house, leaving Darcy and Xander alone in the driveway. Alone together.

Xander and Darcy.

He had walked blindly into the kitchen, where he’d come to a sudden stop. Cady had grabbed his chin and Lulu whined at his feet. A distant corner of his brain had whispered reminders about food, water and diapers, but another, more urgent voice had had him perching Cady on the edge of the counter, where he’d held her tight around the waist and stared at her.

Xander.

He could see Xander in her now. The pale blond hair pulled into one ponytail on top of her head like a platinum exclamation point above her rosy cheeks. Legs that were starting to shed their baby fat in favor of lean length. That crooked twist to her lips that he and Darcy had laughed over, calling it her Elvis impersonation. How many times had he picked her up and touched that mouth and sung “Heartbreak Hotel” to her? Her first real laugh had happened during one of those moments.

Turns out the laugh was on him.

“Mum mum mum.” Cady wriggled within his grasp, a familiar unhappy edge creeping into her voice. He shook his head.

The best way to cure your worries is by helping someone else. His grandmother’s voice was so clear in his head he almost expected to see her walk through the door. She’d drilled those words into him all his life. He had to admit, she had a point. Doing things for Darcy, especially once he had figured out she was pregnant—well, he’d certainly felt better after shoveling her driveway than he had after time spent mulling the mess his life had been.

Though even Grandma Moxie probably would cut him some slack right now.

“Come on, Cady Bug. I bet you’re hungry. How about something to eat?”

He ran Cady’s hands under the faucet, making her squeal, then strapped her into the high chair and raided the refrigerator for cheese cubes and tiny cooked pasta, all while maintaining a nonstop monologue. The words didn’t matter. As long as he kept talking, she would be distracted enough to stay happy.

“Looks like everything has changed, right, cutie? That’s the truth. I always thought that Jonathan the rat bastard was the one who did your mama wrong—oops, don’t cry, I won’t say the M word again—but I guess I blew that one. And you know how I feel? I feel like a goddamned idiot, that’s what I feel like. There’s some words to toss out sometime when M-word isn’t expecting them. Goddamn. Yeah, that should get a reaction out of her. Maybe even an honest one. Wouldn’t that be a change?”

He was overreacting, but so what? Darcy was his friend. Nothing more—but nothing less, either. He would have thought that as her friend, as the person who had brought Xander into the picture, as the one who had fallen in love with Cady the moment she’d arrived—

“Guess I thought wrong. No surprise there, right, kiddo? That’s right, shove the cheese into your mouth. Nom nom. Eat with your fists while you can. Those days will be gone before you know it.”

He dropped into the chair beside the table, his arms, legs and spirits crossed. Lulu sniffed his knee and let loose with a noise that was somewhere between a whine and a moan. He laced his fingers through her silky fur and scratched behind her ears.

“You know something’s wrong, don’t you, girl? Don’t worry. I won’t let him take you.”

“Ru! Ru!” Cady slapped her palms on the tray and threw a piece of cheese to the floor. Lulu snapped it up. Cady broke into the chortles that always accompanied the game. Ian was supposed to make sure the food made it into the proper mouth, but at the moment he didn’t have the heart.

“Laugh now, sweetie.” Despite himself, he angled his head so he could sneak a peek through the lace curtains at the kitchen window. He should have saved himself the effort. All he could see was a fringe of cinnamon—the top curls of Darcy’s hair. Curls that Xander had laced his fingers through while—

Ian jumped from his chair and forced his feet toward the hall, the refrigerator, the small pantry stocked with baby food and diet pop. Anyplace where he wouldn’t be tempted to watch what was happening in the backyard.

But when he narrowly avoided stepping on Lulu, trailing him with her nose to the ground, he forced his itchy feet to halt. He fell back onto the hard wooden chair. He tipped his head toward the ceiling, where the white blades of the fan stirred the air and his thoughts.

He had to get a grip.

So Darcy and Xander had...whatever. So they had made a baby together. It was none of his business. It had happened almost two years ago. It had nothing to do with him.

Except it felt as though it did.

“I frickin’ hate secrets.” Good thing his only audience was a dog and a baby. Neither of them could point out the irony that he, Mr. Honest-and-Aboveboard, had been keeping a hell of a whopper from Darcy for God only knew how long.

“But that’s different.” He patted his thigh. Lulu, who had been gnawing on his shoe, jumped at the invitation and rested her paws on his knee. “It’s biology. That’s all. I’ve been alone awhile. Darcy is right here and cute and single... It’s good that I’ve started noticing her. Proof that I’m really over Taylor. That’s all. Saying anything to her would have been stupid. Pointless.”

Despite himself, he glanced at the window again.

“Too late.”

* * *

IF EVER IAN had doubted that life had a sick sense of humor, it would have been confirmed by the fact that as soon as Cady finished cramming her mouth full of everything within reach, she gifted him with the Diaper of the Decade.

“I think this is the definition of redundant, kiddo.” He tossed wipes into the trash while using his elbow to restrain the sumo wrestler formerly known as Cady. “You couldn’t have waited a bit longer? Maybe let your shiny new dad do the honors?”

She let loose with a wail of protest.

“My sentiments exactly,” he said, though he was well aware that her only concern was her inability to wriggle free. “I know, I know. You want to move.”

Come to think of it, that sounded like a fine idea. He’d given Darcy plenty of time to...whatever...with Xander.

“Let’s crash the party, Bug.”

Lulu barked her agreement and raced into the hall while Ian grabbed Cady. After a fast detour to the bathroom to wash his hands, they clattered down the stairs.

And there he stopped.

Lulu bounded ahead but Ian stayed out of sight of the back door. The dog yipped and Cady pushed at his shoulders, but still he didn’t move.

What if what he felt for Darcy was more than biology?

No sooner had the thought brought him to a standstill than he walked away from it double time.

“Get a grip, North.”

For one thing, he’d been feeling this...whatever...around Darce for a while. Months, at least. If it really was something more than basic instinct, surely it would have grown or changed or something by now.

For another, he and Darcy and Cady had a good thing going. Yeah, he was pissed right now, but when he looked back on it, they’d done a damned fine job with this friendship. He babysat her kid, she walked his dog, they made each other laugh and had each other’s backs. Only an idiot would want to mess up what they had.

Lulu dropped down from the door and gave him a look that could only be described as get over here and let me out, you useless human. Cady lunged forward in apparent sympathy.

“Fine. I’m coming, okay?”

So. Biology. Biology stirred with some kind of...oh, call it confusion...that Darcy hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him the truth. A bruised ego, a hell of a surprise, some understandable jealousy revolving around the bundle of drool and giggles squirming in his arms.

“You want to walk, don’t you, Bug?” He lowered her to the ground and slipped his fingers into her fists. She shrieked something he couldn’t understand, held tight and slapped one foot in front of the other in her version of a beeline for the door while he duck-walked behind her.

“You’re getting good at this, kid. Soon you won’t need me to hold you up.”

What the hell. He’d been debating moving home to Comeback Cove anyway. Maybe Xander’s reappearance was some kind of message that it would be okay to go. Ian’s work here was done, and all that crap.

They had reached the door—well, as close as they could get to it with Lulu doing her best to claw her way through the window. Darcy’s hot-pink top danced at the edge of his vision, but he refused to look at her. He would hand over Cady and take himself and Lulu to the garage, where he could control the fire.

Decision made, he nudged the door open and marched Cady into the sunshine.

“Hello, sweetness!” The forced cheer and slight breathlessness in Darcy’s voice made him wonder if maybe he should have checked the backyard action before walking out. His imagination, helpful as always, offered up some vivid pictures of the reunions he and Cady might have interrupted.

Oh, yeah. As if that was gonna help.

“Here you go.” He could do make-believe happy as well as the next person. “She’s fed and as clean as she ever will be.”

“Did you have a good lunch, lovey? Oh, but you must have painted your clothes with it, right? That’s not what you were wearing a few minutes ago.”

He risked a glance in Darcy’s direction. She didn’t seem any more rumpled than she had when he’d left. “Nope. Can’t blame this one on sloppy eating.”

“Uh-oh. Did you get stuck with a blowout?”

He checked on Xander, who was hovering behind Darcy and staring at Cady as if he wasn’t sure she was real. That diaper would have grounded him pretty fast. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Sorry.” Darcy squatted and held out her arms. “Come here, Bug. We, um, I need to introduce you to someone.”

For one wild minute he considered grabbing Darcy, calling Lulu and hauling everyone into the house before locking the door—with Xander on the other side. Then Cady released his fingers and lurched into Darcy’s embrace.

He was the outsider here. He was the one who wasn’t part of the family.

He was the one who needed to make himself scarce.

“Well.” He stepped aside, patting his leg to call Lulu, who had parked herself between Darcy and Xander. At his signal her ears perked up but she didn’t move. It hit him that she was giving Xander the kind of you should run now look that he wished he could hand out.

That did it. Next lifetime he was coming back as a dog.

“Okay.” He made himself meet Darcy’s gaze, forced a hearty grin. “Well. If you’re all set I’ll get out of your—”

Darcy’s eyes widened and her lips clamped tight. Her sideways glance toward Xander was fast but unmistakable.

Holy crap. Unless he missed his guess, this wasn’t an entirely joyous reunion. In fact, if he had to pick one word to describe the vibes he was getting, that word would be panic.

He didn’t know what had changed in the past half hour, but something sure had shifted. Which meant his intentions of firing up the forge and going all Neanderthal on a piece of hot metal were going to have to wait until he was sure Darcy wanted him to leave.

“Come on, Lulu. Let’s play.”

With that he grabbed a tennis ball from the bucket at the edge of the concrete patio and wandered toward the garden—far enough to give the illusion of respecting their privacy while staying within earshot. Darcy didn’t scare easily. Nor did she willingly ask for help. If she was acting skittish, there was a reason.

Not that he thought Xander posed a physical threat. The man had grown into a con artist with delusions of invincibility, but Ian had never known him to be the violent type. He got queasy playing “Grand Theft Auto.” And when it came to women, well, given the number of nights Ian had spent sexiled to the futon in their dorm’s common room, he was well aware that Xander had something that appealed. No, whatever had happened between Xander and Darcy, Ian was pretty certain it had been consensual.

But something had her spooked. So until she indicated otherwise, he wasn’t going anywhere.

He tossed the ball. It bounced into the garden, disappearing in the twisted vines of Darcy’s snap peas. Crap. Lulu and the garden were a scary mix.

Except Lulu wasn’t there.

He swiveled in time to see Lulu bare her teeth and let loose with a deep growl as Xander’s outstretched hand hovered in midair a few inches from Cady.

“Lulu?” Darcy’s voice echoed his surprise. “It’s okay, girl. Xander is... It’s okay.”

Lulu’s response was to snarl louder. Her message couldn’t have been clearer. Stay away. Mine.

Xander’s head twisted from the dog to Darcy to Ian, then back at Lulu. “Hey, Ian? Could you give us a hand here?”

Well, well, well.

Ian crossed his arms and took in the scene before him. It probably wasn’t smart to feel smug over the turn of events, but at this point he would take what he could get.

“What’s the matter, Xander? Your dog doesn’t remember you?”

The flush in Xander’s cheeks didn’t do anything for his appearance, but it sure made Ian grin.

“Cute. Call her off.”

“Sure, sure.” He took his time ambling forward and stooped to run a hand down Lulu’s back. “Easy, girl. Everything’s fine.”

She continued to glare at Xander. A fraction of the rigidness eased from her stance, but she didn’t move. No doubt she was waiting for some sort of signal. In that case Xander was screwed, because Ian was pretty sure that the only messages Lulu might pick up from him were ones of frustrated protectiveness.

Unless...

Unless maybe he gave Lulu a reason to think that she could stand down because he was stepping up.

He straightened slowly and caught Darcy’s attention—not difficult, as she seemed transfixed by the dog. Certain he couldn’t be seen by Xander behind him, Ian tapped his chest.

Trust me, he mouthed.

She didn’t nod or move, but like Lulu, some of the tension seeped from her shoulders. Message received.

He petted Lulu again, gave her a “good girl” and then—slowly, deliberately—pushed runaway cinnamon curls behind Darcy’s ear.

Behind him, he was pretty sure he heard Xander choke.

Darcy’s eyes flickered to meet his gaze, her expression changing from confusion to acceptance in the literal blink of an eye.

Lulu dropped to her haunches.

Encouraged, Ian shifted to face Xander while taking a step back and sliding his arm around Darcy’s waist. She barely hesitated before snuggling against his side, soft and warm and a whole lot more pliant than was good for his long-deprived body.

Damn. This might not have been such a smart idea after all.

But Lulu had stopped glaring, and Xander’s jaw seemed about ready to hit the pavement, so Ian counted this as a win.

“Wait a minute.” Xander’s laugh brimmed with disbelief. “Are you telling me that the two of you...?”

“I don’t know why you seem so surprised.” Ian placed a possessive hand on Cady’s arm.

“But you said...”

Ian was well aware of what he had said when Xander asked him two summers ago if Ian had any designs on his landlady. Ian’s “Are you out of your tree?” had been equal parts She’s involved with someone else and I just got dumped by my fiancée, dumbass.

“Yeah, well, that was then. This is now.”

Darcy set Cady on the ground, straightened, then reached around his back and hooked her thumb ever-so-casually in the waistband of his jeans. His pulse spiked. Oh, hell.

She tilted her head to rest against his shoulder. “I didn’t have a lot of experience with babies, and Ian had helped with his niece so he kind of taught me what to do, and I started relying on him more and more, and the next thing you know he was spending more time in the house with me than in his apartment over the garage. And then it was like— Well, I guess I don’t need to spell it all out.”

All true, but damn. When she said it with that little laugh in her voice he could almost believe it himself.

“Yeah. I guess so.” Xander shook his head. “Look, it’s been a hell of a day, and I’ve already been here longer than I planned.”

That’s right, Xander. Leave. Now.

“But I...” Xander glanced at Ian and Darcy once more, and then shifted his focus to Cady pulling herself upright on Ian’s leg.

“Could I hold her?”

Ian glanced at Darcy, who bit her lip but gave a quick nod.

Damn it. Why did Xander have to come back and put her through this?

“If she fusses don’t take it personally,” she said as Ian pried Cady from his calf and handed her to Xander. “She doesn’t meet too many new people, so she’s kind of shy with strangers.”

Xander held Cady at arm’s length for a breath or two before pulling her closer. His elbows stuck out at an awkward angle, his knees seemed frozen in position and his face held a mix of terror and reverence.

“But I’m not a stranger,” he said, directing the words to Cady. “I’m your dad.”

Ian reached for Darcy’s hand, lacing his fingers through her clammy ones. Her smile was determined but he saw the fear in her eyes.

Cady reared back, staring at Xander’s face without blinking. A hint of a smile lit his face.

“You look like my little sister,” he said softly. “Bethie. I guess she’s your aunt Bethie.”

Ian hid his wince. Darcy—no doubt motivated by her own status as a lonely only child—had mentioned more than once that she wished Cady had a big extended family to dote on her and shower her with frilly pink things and make her feel as though she was the most amazing thing on the planet. Still, he was pretty sure this wasn’t the way she would have chosen to add to Cady’s relative count.

“So, does she talk?” Xander asked. “Or walk or...? I don’t know much about babies, either. Nothing, really.” His laugh was a little stronger, if rueful. “Maybe you’ll need to teach me, too, Ian.”

Darcy opened her mouth, but no words came out. Ian rubbed the small of her back. This had to be killing her.

Ian had been still digging himself out of the mess his own life had become when he’d realized she was pregnant. He hadn’t had a lot left over to focus on anyone else’s problems.

But then it had become obvious that Jonathan—the supposed father—wasn’t in the picture. And Darcy’s own mother had reluctantly agreed that pregnancy and a baby were not compatible with the work she needed Darcy to do. Darcy had put on a brave front while slowly developing a crease in her forehead that had rivaled her belly for size.

Still, it wasn’t until after Cady’s birth that he’d put it all together. He’d come home from work one hot afternoon in late June and found Darcy huddled under the umbrella he’d installed, shaking with silent sobs while Cady slept in her arms. For the first time it had hit him how alone she was, how lost and scared she must have felt.

He had taken the baby and ordered Darcy to get some sleep. And somewhere in the year that followed, he’d figured out that Darcy wasn’t the only one who had benefited from his involvement.

His issues didn’t matter at this moment. Right now his job was to step up and get them through this. The rest could wait.

“Oh, Cady isn’t shy about letting anyone know what she can do,” he said to Xander. “She doesn’t walk by herself yet, but she pulls up on furniture—”

“And legs,” Darcy added softly.

“And then she cruises. You know, pulls herself sideways,” he added in response to Xander’s blank look. “She can crawl faster than Lulu can run, though she’s letting up on that.”

“She has a couple of words.” Darcy’s voice shook a little, but there was an underlying determination that made him want to cheer for her. “She says Mum mum, and Eeeee, which I—we—think means Ian. And Ru for Lulu, though we don’t know if she’s trying to say her name or imitate the sound of barking.”

“You sound like a smart one, Cadence Joy.”

The pride and wonder in Xander’s voice made Ian pull Darcy tighter against his side. She molded herself to him. He was pretty sure that this time she wasn’t seeking to deceive Xander as much as to hold herself up. Didn’t matter to him. As long as he was helping he didn’t much care about the details.

But he couldn’t help but notice how perfectly she fit against him.

Absolutely normal. Proof you’re over Taylor. Biology reminding you that you’re still alive.

It had been hard enough to make himself swallow that line the past few months, noticing Darcy from a distance. Now, with her warmth and softness glued to his side, he was almost grateful for Xander’s presence. At least with an audience Ian was less likely to throw caution to the wind and do something really stupid.

Cady let out a whimper that he recognized as the prelude to a lungful of protest. Darcy moved out of his embrace. The places where she had pressed against him seemed to blink in shock.

“Here.” She scooped Cady from Xander and cuddled the child tight against her chest. “Don’t want her getting scared off at the first meeting, right?”

Everyday words, but he could only guess what they had cost her. He wasn’t sure if he was more amazed by the casual way she tossed them out or by the fact that she returned to his side. He needed no prompting to nestle her against him once again.

Ah, that’s better.

He pushed the traitorous thought aside. Time to convince Xander to leave so he and Darcy could go inside and figure out what to do next. Especially about this fake relationship they had just invented. The one he had to remember was only that—fake.

“So, Xander. What’s next for you? Are you staying here in Stratford?” Say no. Say no.

Xander’s usual confidence switched to uncertainty. “I— Jeez. I have something lined up, a job in cottage country, but...” He ran one finger gently down Cady’s arm. “Things have changed.”

Yeah, they had. Ian could give him that one. Maybe even a few points for rethinking his plans now that those changes had hit him.

But Ian wasn’t backing off until Darcy gave the word.

Cady whimpered and burrowed her head into the cleft between his shoulder and Darcy’s. Xander’s hand dropped away. Ian wasn’t sure if he should feel guilty, victorious or ashamed, so he settled for giving thanks that—for the moment, at least—he was still in the picture.

Darcy spoke up. “She’s getting tired. Xander, why don’t you give me your number and we’ll set up a time to get together again. Let’s see, today is Tuesday, so maybe—”

“Tomorrow?” Xander had never sounded so excited about anything for as long as Ian had known him.

Darcy stiffened a little in Ian’s embrace. “I’ve got a lot going on over the next couple days. How about the end of the week?”

A lot going on? Darcy worked from home and had no appointments other than delivering Cady to and from her mornings at day care. He knew for a fact that she had kept the next few days open, because he was her usual hairdresser-and-dentist babysitter, and he was heading to Comeback Cove Thursday morning.

If Darcy was putting Xander off, it meant she wanted time. For what, he didn’t know. But he’d be damned if he would let her set up something for the days he wasn’t going to be around.

Unless, of course, that was what she wanted...

But no. He hadn’t imagined that wariness that had come over her. Until he knew she felt safe, he was going to stick to her like the snap pea vines clinging to Lulu’s coat as she slinked out of the garden.

“Hang on, honey.” He thought fast. “Did you forget that we’re leaving in the morning?”

“I—”

He turned to Xander, watching them with way too much curiosity. “We’re going up to see my folks, spend Father’s Day with my dad. So it’ll be next Monday, Tuesday, before we get back.”

“Oh, right.” Darcy laughed and elbowed him in the ribs while adjusting Cady. Accidentally? “How could I forget? Like I said, teething, not enough sleep.” She shrugged. “It does a number on me.”

Xander studied them, skepticism apparent in his crossed arms and narrowed eyes. Ian’s stomach clenched. The truth would have to come out at some point, but damn it, he didn’t want that to happen until he’d had a chance to talk to Darcy and find out what she needed.

He slipped sideways, turning to slide his hands around a droopy, half-asleep Cady. “Here. I’ll take her in while you get Xander’s number.”

Darcy nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

He paused, considered and then—before he could talk himself out of it—brushed a quick kiss against her mouth.

He kept it light. Fast. Barely long enough to register the hint of ginger on her breath, nowhere near hot enough to account for the rush of God, yes that hit him even as he reminded himself that it was all for show. It was clumsy, so awkward that if Xander had been taking notes, he probably would have seen through them in a heartbeat.

But, damn, she tasted good.

And, whoa damn, when her lips parted—purely from shock, he knew—he had to drag himself away.

And, hot damn, but if this was a mistake, it was the best one he’d made in a long time.

CHAPTER THREE

TEN MINUTES AFTER saying goodbye to Xander, fifteen minutes after Ian had bestowed the third surprise in her hat trick of shocks for the day, Darcy pulled down the shade in Cady’s room and started the recording of acoustic covers that passed for lullabies chez Maguire. With all the routines accounted for, she turned on the monitor and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it while she breathed.

“Dear God, Maguire, when you mess up, you don’t hold back, do you?”

So much for her carefully organized life. So much for those daily affirmations reminding herself that she was strong, she was independent, she could handle whatever the universe threw her way. In a little over an hour, that had all been blown to hell.

Xander was back.

Which she had been dealing with until she’d found out he’d been in freakin’ jail.

And then Ian had kissed her.

Her fingers rose to her lips and she gave a shaky laugh. Yes, everything else was crumbling around her, but her brain kept tugging her back to that moment in the yard when Ian’s mouth had brushed hers. For one second, maybe two or three, her worries about Xander and custody agreements and criminal acts had been banished by the soft play of warm lips against hers. It had been reassuring and comforting, a welcome reminder that she wasn’t alone, which was, she was sure, the only reason he had done it. And she really hoped that was the only reason she kept coming back to it. It was nothing more than her touchstone, a moment of peace and sanity when everything else was whirling.

A nice story. Too bad her treasonous brain also insisted on reminding her of the infrequent but oh-so-vivid dreams she’d had over the past few months. Dreams in which Ian played a highly significant and usually shirtless role.

Every time she woke from one of those dreams, she spent the next few days staring at the ground or at Lulu or praying that his work would take him out of town for an extended period. Because, seriously, lusting after her best friend?

At least she’d pulled away from the kiss before her long-denied hormones had kicked in. She could not, would not, upset the balance of their lives more than had already been done. Especially not at a time such as this when she could really use a friend.

But how was she supposed to look at him now?

Not that she had a choice. He was in her kitchen waiting for her, as he’d done so many times over the past year. She had to tell him the truth about Xander and find out what kind of criminal DNA was swimming in Cady’s genes, all while feeling as if she’d been plugged into an outlet and was being hit by bolts of electricity at random times and in the worst possible places.

And what kind of parent was she that of all the things that had happened, she continued to fixate on the one that had made her feel better for a minute, the three seconds that had served her?

Dear Lord, she was turning into her mother after all.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook away the thought. She would get through this. She would talk to Ian—talk, Maguire—and send him to his apartment. She would sit at the computer and come up with a strategy. Later, if she was still this...unsettled, she would put Cady to bed and have herself a private film festival. One featuring Harrison Ford in his prime, fully whipped. Tomorrow, she could wake with a clear head and focus on what mattered—getting Cady through this change without turning her childhood into the same kind of convoluted mess Darcy’s had been.

All she had to do was get through the next hour.

* * *

LOOKING IAN IN the eye as she descended the stairs took about as much intestinal fortitude as telling Xander that he had hit the conception jackpot, but Darcy made herself do it. She was rewarded with a glimmer of his usual smile.

Crap. She had forgotten the hurt she’d spotted in his face right after Xander’s arrival. The conversation ahead was shaping up to be as complicated as the ones she’d just navigated.

She rubbed her temples. Couldn’t anything ever be simple?

“Headache?”

It was as good an explanation as any. “Yeah.”

“Need anything?”

This was the Ian she knew—helpful and supportive. The caregiver. The trusted friend, not the Lust Igniter.

“I’ll be okay after I grab something to eat. Thanks.” She glanced around. “Lulu?”

“I think she’s worn-out. Last time I saw her she was heading for her basket.”

“I’m jealous.”

There was nothing but the usual amount of concern on his face when he studied her. The inner caveman that had shown up while they were outside must have departed with Xander. Thank heaven.

“We should talk,” he said slowly. “But if you’re not up for it right now...”

“No. I mean, yes.” She blinked and dredged up a smile. “I’m fine. But I think, maybe, this calls for a beer. Want one?”

“God, yes.”

She pulled bottles from the refrigerator, grabbed a jar of salsa while she was there. “Can you get the chips?”

He didn’t hesitate before opening the correct cupboard and snagging a bag of tortilla chips from the top shelf, where she stored them out of her everyday reach. It hit her as he moved with easy confidence around her kitchen how thoroughly entrenched he was in her life. He knew his way around her kitchen, he dragged the trash to the curb every Thursday, he changed her daughter’s diapers, all without asking how or where or when.

She really couldn’t blow this.

“Let’s go out on the porch,” she said when he pulled a chair from the table. The front porch. Public. Less chance of her breaking down. Or, worse, reliving that kiss and feeling tempted to do something truly stupid.

He raised an eyebrow but picked up the monitor and followed her outside.

She set the food on the small wicker table and climbed into her favorite hammock swing suspended from the roof. Ian settled in the oversize chair he had added to the porch last summer, the day he’d announced he was signing up for baby rocking duty.

After a scoop of salsa on a chip and a long, welcome draw on her beer—damn, she had needed that—she was as ready as she would ever be.

“Okay.” She ran her nail beneath the label on her bottle. “I have a million questions, and I bet you do, too, but first and most important, thank you. You got me through something I kind of knew would have to happen someday, but I sure wasn’t looking forward to it. Having you here made the whole situation— Okay, so it got kind of screwy there for a while, but I—”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

She blinked. He was jumping straight to that?

“I don’t want you to think— I mean, it was all for Xander,” he said in a rush. “You know that, right?”

“Of course.” Stop weeping, stupid hormones. “It’s fine. We were winging it, and, okay, maybe I wouldn’t have done that, but it worked, and that’s what matters.”

“Good.” He grabbed a chip but instead of eating it, he stared at it as intently as if a secret code were printed there. “I had no idea that you and Xander— But I wasn’t planning to pull the whole act out there, especially not if you’d been glad to see him. But when I came outside you looked scared when I said I would leave, so I... I don’t know. Reacted.”

She thought back, replaying the sudden appearance of Caveman Ian. Now it made sense. “Ohhh. Yeah. I was kind of spooked. Xander had just told me where he spent the last— Jeez, I don’t even know how long he was in jail. Or what for.” She peeked at Ian. Good. He’d lost the pinched look around his eyes. “Do you?”

“He didn’t go into detail, but based on his past run-ins—”

“Past run-ins?” It was a miracle she still had enough air to speak given the way her breath had flown from her lungs. “You mean this wasn’t the first time?”

“Easy, Darce. He’s not a hardened criminal, okay? He had some brushes with the law when we were in university, but never anything that led anywhere. And nothing violent. It’s all cyber stuff. Breaking into corporate accounts, things like that. As far as I know, he never does anything against individuals. I’m sure in his mind he’s some kind of modern-day Robin Hood.”

“Oh.” Some of the tension seeped from her shoulders. “Thanks. That helps.”

He nodded and stuffed the chip into his mouth. She had a feeling it was her move.

“Here’s the story,” she said at last. “Xander and I never had a real thing. So you weren’t interrupting a reunion of long-lost lovers or anything like that.”

The relief on his face told her that he had indeed been wondering. But was he glad to know he hadn’t intruded, or relieved that there wasn’t anything to interrupt in the first place?

Not that it mattered, of course.

“Remember when Xander was here and you went away over Labor Day weekend?”

“Right. For Hank’s wedding.”

Now, why did the mention of his brother’s wedding make him tense up again? Maybe it had something to do with his ex-fiancée. From what Darcy had gleaned from the bits and pieces Ian had let drop, the ex had continued living in Comeback Cove.

“Well, that Friday night was when Jonathan and I broke up.” She snagged a chip and snapped it in half.

“Jonathan.” There was a hint of a question in his voice when he mentioned her ex, and she knew what he was asking.

“I know. You thought he was Cady’s father. I’m sure everyone thought that, but fortunately—or not—he isn’t. That night—well, let’s just say it didn’t end gracefully.”

Call her the Queen of Understatement. On their six-month anniversary she had thought it might be safe to ask what he saw in their future. What she had ended up seeing was his back as he’d run as far and fast as he could.

“Anyway, I made a horrible scene, then came home and went out in the backyard and got rip-roaring drunk. When I got to the maudlin stage and decided I needed a babysitter, I went up to the apartment looking for you, forgetting you weren’t there.”

“But Xander was.”

Oh, if his voice were any more neutral, he would have been beige. “Yep. I bawled all over him, and when I was cried out he said he’d help me get back to my place. I think his intentions truly were honorable, but by then I was starting to sober up and I didn’t want to, so I grabbed some vodka and convinced him to join me. And things kind of...escalated.”

Silence hung between them. On the street, a car cruised past, bass thumping out the windows. A kid shouted to a friend on the other end of the block.

“It was one night,” she said, leaning forward, praying with everything she had that he would believe her. “One stupid, drunken night when all I wanted was to forget.” Forget Jonathan’s heavy sigh when she’d screwed up her nerve and had posed the question, forget the disgust on his face when she had started to cry, forget her panicked drunken certainty that she would never be held again. “I woke up the next day and thought of everything that could have happened and had a major freak-out.”

“And Xander?”

“Was already gone.”

He eased back into his chair. “That’s no surprise. I mean,” he added hastily, “not to say anything about you. Or your... Crap.”

“Are you blushing?”

As if she’d unplugged a dam, he turned even redder. “This isn’t the easiest conversation.”

No. But considering he had watched her stomach explode during her pregnancy, seen her nursing nonstop in those first weeks when she was too exhausted to make more than a token attempt at covering up and listened to her complain about every oozing, aching body part, his reaction was unexpected. And surprisingly sweet.

“I’m sorry. I won’t tease. I know what you mean.”

“All I was trying to say is that Xander isn’t one for the long haul. As I’m sure you noticed.”

Which brought them straight to her biggest fear regarding Cady.

“I don’t care that he took off the next day. Frankly, if I had been able to lift my head without feeling like I’d been shoved into a tornado, I might have done the same thing. It wasn’t my finest moment.” She leaned forward, arms resting on her knees, trying to decide how to ask what she needed to know without revealing too much. “But it’s different now. You’ve known him longer than I have. Do you think he has it in him to stick around, or would he be one of those guys who, you know, only stays long enough to mess up everything?”

Ian studied her for an unnervingly long moment. At times she swore he could read her mind. This was one of the moments when she longed for a way to shield her thoughts from him. It was one thing for him to know that he was her most trusted friend. It would be quite different if he figured out that to her, what they had was the closest thing she could imagine to the family she’d lost when she was too young to appreciate it.

“Ah. Gotcha.” At last he lifted his beer for a long draw. She’d seen him do that hundreds of times over the past couple of years. Why, this time, did she have to force herself to stop gazing at the lines of his neck? Why did she find herself swallowing in tandem with him?

Why did she suspect she was now the one blushing?

He finally lowered the bottle. “I don’t know,” he said. “Back in school, Xander was a goof but basically a straight-up guy. Since then...I don’t know. He changed.”

Not the answer she wanted, for sure.

“I got the feeling you wanted some time to figure out what should happen next with him,” he said. “That’s why I said what I did about us going to Comeback Cove.”

Oh, holy crap. Yet another twist that had slipped through her grasp. Thank God Cady was safely tucked into her crib. At this rate, Darcy wouldn’t trust herself to keep a hamster alive.

“Yeah, about that.” She sat back in the hammock, watching him carefully for signs of hedging. “Where did that come from?”

“I dunno. We were pulling off the ‘we’re a couple’ thing, and Lulu growled, and I thought, damn, what if Xander comes back when I’m not around? Remember, I didn’t know what was making you so skittish. I thought maybe you were afraid of him for, well, for more than just Cady’s sake.”

It took a moment for his words to register. “You thought he raped me?”

“Not really. But I thought there might have been some...coercion.”

Her indignation melted. No wonder the poor guy had let his inner caveman fly.

“No,” she said softly. “Nothing horrible happened.” Nothing especially mind-blowing, either, from what she could remember, but no way was she going to say that. Ian was already flashing as red as the fire in his forge. “Things got lousy and complicated, and, yeah, I’m not looking forward to refiguring everything now that he’s back. But Cady is the best part of my life. No matter how much I curse my own stupidity, I have absolutely no regrets.”

He nodded and rocked back in his chair, but didn’t look as though he believed her.

“What?” She snagged another chip. “You’re trying to say something but you don’t know how. I can tell.”

“Jeez, Maguire, can’t I hide anything from you?”

Ah, that was more like it. Teasing, complaining, fake indignation—everything she usually associated with Ian. That post-kiss lust—okay, that had been interesting, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin their easygoing swing.

“Don’t tell me you were serious about me going to Comeback Cove with you?”

She hadn’t thought it was possible for him to turn any redder. She was wrong.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he said, setting his beer on the table. “One, we—I—led Xander to believe we’re a couple. So if I go without you it might look strange.”

“Because people who are together never do anything separately. Right.”

“To paraphrase Indiana Jones, I’m making this up as I go, okay?”

Boom! She had a sudden image of Ian in a leather jacket and fedora, a whip in his hand and a smile that could melt a thousand Arks on his lips.

Looked as if she was going to have to come up with an alternate plan for the evening.

“If you come with me it would give you time to figure out what happens next. Maybe talk to a lawyer. Have you done that yet?”

“No. I should have, I know, but when he vanished off the face of the earth, it kind of slid down the priority list.”

He nodded. “You need legal advice, and we need to decide what to do when Xander shows up expecting to see us as a couple. Since I was already planning to go home—”

“Not until Thursday.”

He shrugged. “So I’ll go a day early. My mother will be ecstatic. At the time, saying that you were coming along seemed like the best solution.”

“Hmm.” It seemed pretty caveman to her, but, she had to admit, it was nice to know he’d been trying to help.

“Besides,” he added so casually that her skin prickled in warning, “your grandmother is there, and she would love to see Cady.”

She’d always known that renting to the grandson of her grandmother’s best friend would come back to bite her someday.

“Did Nonny pay Moxie to make you say that?”

“Get real, Darce. You could use some time. I’m going to Comeback Cove anyway. And Helene would give her eyeteeth to have you and Cady under her roof for a few nights.”

Did he have to sound so reasonable? Getting pissed off at him would be so much more satisfying than understanding him.

Except he had a point.

She dipped a chip into the salsa, focused on creating the perfect blend of tomato, onion and peppers. It took a lot of effort.

“You gonna eat that or hang it in an art gallery?”

She glared. “Don’t interrupt my stalling tactic to discuss your stalling tactic.”

His laugh, low and reassuring, was like having someone pour warm water over her—soothing and welcome and oh so comforting.

“I know your intentions are good.” She swirled the chip through the salsa again. “But going to Comeback Cove? That seems extreme.”

“What’s so extreme about it? One phone call, a few hours packing, a few more to drive, and there ya go. Instant breathing space. You have time to sort things through, and when we come back, you’ll be ready to do...whatever you decide is right. But you won’t be making it up as you go anymore.”

He had a point. Again.

“I don’t want to upset Cady’s schedule. She’s already wonked with this tooth. I think she needs to stick to familiar places and faces right now.”

“Good point. But you know sometimes a distraction is all she needs to get herself back on track.”

Must he always be right?

“What about work? You’re not off tomorrow, and I’m swamped.”

“Everyone’s out of my office tomorrow anyway. Training. As for you—” his eye roll would have made a teenager proud “—you work from home, remember? Take your laptop with you.”

“And how much will I get done without being able to drop Cady at day care? I know she’s only there part-time, but I get a heck of a lot done in those three hours.”

“Hello? Doting grandmother?”

Damn him. “But...Ian, look. You have a close family. It’s nothing for you to call and say, ‘Hi, Mom. Change of plans. I’m coming home early.’ It’s not like that for me and Nonny.” At least it hadn’t been lately.

“Actually,” he began, but then gave an impatient sort of shake. “Whatever. It was just a suggestion.”

“Wait a minute. Actually what?”

“Nothing that matters right now. You would really rather stay here?”

“Yes, I would rather stay here.” At least, rather than go to Comeback Cove. “What are you hiding?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’re hiding something and you know it.” About his family? Or was it the ex?

Nonny had alluded to some issue back when she’d called to ask Darcy to rent to him. At that point, Darcy had simply wanted someone to keep the grass cut and the house safe when she was traveling for her job as personal assistant to her mother—something that used to happen a lot, since Sylvie juggled careers as an actress, an author and a coach at the Stratford Festival. All that had mattered at that point was that he be polite, solvent and not inclined toward murder. The fact that he was one of the North brothers—part of the big, noisy crew that had both terrified and fascinated her on her childhood visits to the Cove—had been a happy bonus.

It wasn’t until he’d been around for a while that Nonny had mentioned a broken engagement. It was only in the past few months that Ian himself had said anything about it, and then only an occasional, casual reference—“Taylor and I went there”—the way he would talk about an old friend. Never any details. And try though Darcy might, she had never been able to get Nonny to spill. It was Ian’s story to share, she’d insisted.

Damn her moral code.

He stretched long legs out in front of him. “Sorry, Darce, but when it comes to hiding things you kind of won that round.”

Busted. “Okay. I’m not one to talk. If it matters, I can’t count how many times I was tempted to tell you the truth. About Xander, I mean.”

“I believe you.” He paused. “For the record, I was kind of tweaked that you hadn’t said anything. Not that you owed me or anyone an explanation, but I thought... Anyway, having heard the whole story it makes sense. In your shoes I would have done the same thing.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” She smiled before pouncing. “So...actually what?”

“Actually, I’d better call my mother and tell her I won’t be coming home for Father’s Day after all.”

“Wait— Who— What?”

He stretched his arms high overhead, reaching toward the robin’s-egg blue of the porch ceiling. “You heard me.”

“You’re not going.”

“That’s right.”

“Because of me?”

“No. Because of Xander.”

“But I told you, he never... I mean, damn it, Ian. I appreciate everything you did today, believe me, but I don’t need a babysitter. This is my mess and I will get through it.”

“I know you will.”

“So?”

“So maybe I want to hang around and see what happens.”

Oh, no. The caveman was supposed to be gone.

“What are you gonna do, Ian? Shadow me for the rest of my life in case Xander catches me all alone?”

“Nope.”

She waited. Nothing else seemed to be forthcoming.

She eyed the beer. Maybe if she shook it up and sprayed him...

“Why are you so determined to do this?”

He shrugged and grabbed the bottle—jeez, it was as if he really could read her mind—and rocked back in his chair. “Honestly? I don’t know. But it feels right.”

“Because you don’t trust Xander? Or— Wait. Do you think I’m dumb enough to get drunk and pregnant again?”

“No!”

The shock on his face reassured her. No one was that good an actor, and, having spent much of her life haunting stages waiting for her mother, she should know.

“Then what’s the problem? Ian, I’m a big girl. I don’t like this situation, but I’ll manage. I know I was a total basket case when I first had Cady, but on the whole, I’m organized, competent and reasonable. I can handle this.”

“I think that’s it.”

“What’s what?”

“I know you can handle this. Alone.” He leaned forward, quietly serious. “But what kind of friend would I be if I made you do that?”

Oh.

She had no comeback for that one. Maybe because it was so unexpected.

Maybe because she couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel that her happiness mattered to them.

“Make you a deal,” she said softly. “You want to be a friend to me? I’m all for that. But it’s about time I returned the favor. See, I have this suspicion that I’m not the only one who’s been dealing with things solo for too long.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that sometimes you get this look like...” Almost like the way he had looked when she had handed Cady to him and told him she had to talk to Xander. “Like someone just pushed you over a cliff.”

He tipped the chair back. The soft creak of the rocker made her wince and wonder if she had pushed too far.

“Fine,” he said at last. “Since you’re coming with me anyway—”

“If I go with you,” she reminded him, though it was pretty much an auto-response. She wasn’t at all surprised when he waved it away.

“Everything will come out one way or another. You might as well hear it from me.”

He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and stared out at the road. She gave him the time it took to eat one chip. As soon as it was gone she stretched out her foot and nudged his leg.

“You falling asleep on me, North?”

“Trying to figure out where to start.”

“Well, you know what the song says. Start at the beginning.”

“The very beginning,” he corrected.

“Details, details.” She bit her lip, debated and decided to go for broke. “Is it about Taylor?”

“Yeah.” But the way he drew out his reply told her there was more to it than that. “Okay.” He blew out a short breath as if readying himself for a race. “You know that I spent some time working in Tanzania.”

“Right. A year, right?”

“Not quite. Well, it was just before I came home that Taylor ended things between us.”

“So much for absence making the heart grow fonder,” she said softly.

He grimaced. “In a way that’s what happened. Me being away gave her time to realize that her heart was actually fonder of someone else.”

The word that slipped out of Darcy’s mouth was one she never would have let herself utter in front of Cady.

He shrugged. “It sucked, but it happens. And even though I didn’t think so at the time, we were lucky that she figured it out when she did.”

“You have a strange definition of luck.”

“Hey, lemons, lemonade. It’s over. It’s in the past. It was rough, but then it got better.”

“And yet you still miss her.” Which really shouldn’t bother her as much as it did.

“Actually, I don’t.” He raised a hand before she could give voice to any of the retorts bubbling inside her. “I know. If I’m over her, then what’s the big deal?”

“Thank you for being the one to say it. I don’t think I could have managed without more swearing.”

“Yeah, well, you might want to save the bad words for when they really matter.”

“When they really matter? What could be worse than having your fiancée leave you for someone else?”

“Easy,” he said. “When the someone else is your brother.”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE SILENCE THAT greeted his announcement went on so long that he started to think she might have choked on her chip. When he finally made himself look—because, yeah, he hadn’t wanted to watch her face while he’d said it—he saw that her mouth was hanging open, her hand on her chest.

Maybe he should have eased into it a bit more gently.

“Oh, Ian.”

Her soft whisper hung between them. She probably needed a minute to process it. After all, it had been two years and he was only now able to talk about it.

“I never...” She huffed out a breath that sounded like equal parts disbelief and indignation. “You don’t need to tell me anything else. I shouldn’t have pushed. But, damn, that was a shitty thing to do.”

Maybe it was because he hadn’t talked about it for so long, but despite her assurance that he didn’t have to say anything, he wanted to explain. “Yeah, well, to give them credit, everybody tried their damnedest to keep it from happening. Taylor even moved to get away from Carter.”

“It was Carter?” Her laugh was short and laced with relief. “Oh, jeez. I knew you had gone to Hank’s wedding, and for a minute there, I thought—”

“Good God, Darce. I’m no martyr.”

“Thank heaven for that. So, she moved?”

“Right. He knew she was leaving, and he agreed. Everybody thought they were doing the right thing, splitting up, trying to keep it from ripping the family apart, but then Moxie put things together. From what I hear, she practically had to push Carter onto the plane herself.”

“Wait a minute. They betrayed you, and then your own grandmother— Holy crap.”

Everyone in his family had been a wreck. After all, no matter how it played out, one brother was going to end up hurt. But Darcy was the first one focused solely on him. Hearing the indignation in her voice, seeing the way her usually fluid movements were now tight and choppy—well, it was more of a comfort than he would have expected.

“Moxie was right. Not that I was a big fan of the idea when it happened, but... She said it would be worse if Carter and Taylor tried to pretend nothing had happened. Something about resentments building up.” He shrugged. “It hurt like hell, but she had a point. Once the truth was out we knew what we were dealing with.”

“Well, it must have helped to know that it couldn’t possibly get any crappier.”

“Yeah, there was that.”

She leaned back, arms crossed, watching him. “So if Taylor moved and Carter went after her, why are you living in Stratford now instead of in Comeback Cove, where you could have had the support of your family? How did you end up being the sacrificial lamb?”

“Breathe. It was my idea.”

“So much for your ‘I’m no martyr’ line.” She sat up straighter, eyes flashing. “That sucks. As does your family for letting you go.”

She wasn’t saying anything that he hadn’t thought to himself at some point. Funny, though, how much different it felt coming from her.

“Carter and Taylor said they would leave, but remember, we all worked in the family business. I had to think of what was best for Northstar Dairy, too. I had already been gone for almost a year. Everyone was used to that. It made sense for me to be the one to move. Plus,” he added, just to prove he was no candidate for sainthood, “Comeback Cove is a small town. My choices were to stay and be stared at or let them stay and, well—”

“Be the hottest gossip in decades?”

“That’s about it.”

“Good for you.”

“I’m not sure that I should be congratulated for it,” he said. “But it seemed like the best choice at the time.”

“So you decided to move, and you picked Stratford.”

“More like Helene told Moxie about you needing a tenant, and it was far enough from home that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew, and I was up for anything that didn’t require me to do a whole lot of thinking.”

“And here I thought you chose it because you wanted to walk the streets where Justin Bieber grew up.”

Ah, the Sass Queen was back.

“So,” she said after a moment. “That explains why you haven’t gone home much since you moved in.”

“Yeah.”

“Once in two years, unless I’ve forgotten something.”

He glanced sideways. “Your point, Darce?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but wonder why you’re going back now.”

The truth sat heavy in his gut. Part of him longed to tell her about the charitable foundation Moxie was adding to the dairy—the foundation she wanted him to lead, if he could handle being home. If Xander hadn’t reappeared he might have said something, but Darcy had had enough shockers for one day.

Besides, nothing was definite. What was the point of worrying her when he wasn’t even sure himself if he could do this?

“It’s time,” he said at last. “I don’t want one piece of my past to take over the rest of my life.”

“Very wise.”

“Plus, it’s Father’s Day, and my mom is throwing a big thing for my dad. I don’t want to hurt him by being the only one of his kids to not show up.”

“Did it ever occur to you that the only reason your mom is doing this is to force you to come home?”

“Of course it is. Ma hates hoopla. You know how she spends Mother’s Day?”

“How?”

“She goes to church, then goes back to bed and spends the whole day there, alone. She reads. She naps. She orders pizza for dinner. It’s been like that since we were kids.”

“Oh, my God, seriously? That sounds like the best Mother’s Day ever. What a smart woman.”

“A smart, overworked woman who needed a break.” Much like the one swaying softly in the hammock across from him.

“Someday I’m going to do that. It sounds like bliss.” Her voice switched from wistful to practical in the space of one quick sigh. “But anyway. You. You think you’re ready for this?”

“It’s been two years.”

“I can do math, North. I didn’t ask you how long it had been. I asked if you’re ready.”

Correction: a smart, overworked, stubborn woman. “I think so.” Especially when sitting on a porch with the setting sun wrapping them in shadows, surrounded by Darcy’s laugh and her fierce concern and—yeah—that damned pink top that dipped a little lower than she probably realized.

Taylor was a very distant memory when he was with Darcy.

“I think I’m ready,” he said. “But there’s only one way to find out for sure.”

“You blacksmiths. Always shoving things into fires.”

“I’m not planning any long heartfelt talks with either Carter or Taylor, if that’s what you mean. I’ll settle for being in the same room without going bat-shit crazy.”

“I’ll pack some of my mom’s happy pills, just in case.”

It took him a second to process her meaning.

“You’re coming with me?”

“Only because I think you’ll need the moral support.” There was a slightly evil cast to her grin that made him feel as though his beer wasn’t sitting well. “And I always thought Carter was a snot-nosed brat who acted like he was better than the rest of you, so I’m going to love being able to mock him silently anytime I see him.”

“Darce—”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll behave. The last thing I want is to make things worse for you.”

“Damn. I was going to tell you that you didn’t have to keep it silent.” He shrugged. “Listen, this is nothing compared to you and Cady, but so you know—the whole reason Xander came back in the first place was because he wanted Lulu.”

“He what?”

“Yep. Something about seeing himself in his new life, walking the straight and narrow with his faithful canine companion at his side.”

“You’re kidding.” For a second the indignant light in her face faded to something more like worry and fear and something else, something that made him want to gather her close and stroke her hair and promise her that everything would be okay.

Lucky for him, the moment passed as quickly as it had appeared.

* * *

NO MATTER HOW much she longed to sleep in the next morning, Darcy pushed her reluctant self out of bed while the sun was just beginning to brighten the sky. If she was going to have herself and Cady ready for a ten-o’clock departure, she needed to take full advantage of the golden hour before her girlie started moving.

She threw laundry into the dryer, fired up her laptop and tossed jars and pouches of baby food into a bag, all while waiting for the coffee to brew. As soon as it was ready she filled her mug and carried it to the porch for what was usually the best fifteen minutes of her morning.

Too bad she had to spend it calling her mother today.

Sylvie was in London this week, meaning it was already late morning for her, meaning there was a decent chance she would be awake. No guarantee, but the odds were high. Darcy couldn’t count how many times in the past year she had given thanks that her own sleep cycle had come from her father instead of her mother.

“Darcy?”

Yep. Mom might technically be awake, but alert and functional were still hours away. If luck was really on Darcy’s side, she could get through this conversation before Sylvie woke up enough to become annoyed.

“’Morning, Mom. How’re you and the queen this fine day?”

“Don’t be an ass, Darcy. You know very well she’s touring Japan this month. Why on earth are you calling at such a teeth-numbing hour?”

“A couple of things. The copy edits for the new book came in yesterday. I’ll have those turned around within the week, and then I’ll send them to you for final approval. If you need me over the next few days, I might be a bit slow in getting back to you because Cady and I are going to Comeback Cove. And I finalized your Sydney itinerary and will send that to you in a few minutes.”

“That all sounds— Wait. You’re going where?”

So much for that great strategy.

“Comeback Cove.”

“For the love of God, why?”

Because my friend needs me. Because I need some breathing room between me and the Amazing Reappearing Biological Daddy. Because the family I idolized when I was a kid has been broken, and I want to help fix it.

Of all the reasons for this trip, there was only one Darcy would even think of sharing with her mother. “Ian was driving up anyway, and Nonny hasn’t seen Cady since right after she was born, so it seemed like good timing.”

“Assuming there’s ever a good time to be bored silly.”

Darcy often wondered what on earth her parents had seen in each other. Sylvie was a mercurial, nightlife-loving actress, while Paul had been a quiet, small-town homebody. Sylvie was all about the next excitement. Paul had been all about the moment. Sylvie loved Darcy in a bemused sort of way, as if she were never quite sure where this child had come from and what she was supposed to do with her. Paul had been a hands-on, deeply invested father.

But Paul was dead. Sylvie was not only alive, but provided a major chunk of Darcy’s hard-earned income. So on many levels it behooved Darcy to keep her mother placated.

“You know how it goes. Sometimes you have to make these sacrifices for the sake of family.”

“I suppose. It was so much easier when your father was alive and I could let him deal with those issues.”

Darcy had been called many things in her life, but she was pretty sure she had never before been an issue.

“Fine, then. Go do what you must. When will you be— Oh. Hold on a second.”

There came the rustling sort of crackle that made Darcy suspect the phone had been relegated to the side of the bed, followed by a lazy “Good morning, Matteo,” and something that sounded way too much like a long and welcoming kiss. Oh, goody. There was nothing as delightful as trying to conduct a conversation with Sylvie when her latest boy toy was in the room. All it took was one studly thing to make an appearance and Sylvie Drummond—sometimes known as the most driven woman on two continents—turned into a rather embarrassing pile of goo.

“Mom? Hello?”

“Oh. Darcy.” The throaty quality to Sylvie’s voice made Darcy want to shove her fingers in her ears and sing la la la, not paying attention. “I thought you had hung up.”

Yep. Testosterone walked in, five hundred brain cells marched out.

“Sorry. I need to confirm some dates with you. Before you get too busy,” she couldn’t help but add.

“Of course. Fire away.”

Darcy rattled off the requests, knowing full well from the faraway mmm-hmms on the other end that her mother’s focus was elsewhere. Sure enough, as soon as she paused, Sylvie pounced.

“You know, dear, why don’t you email all that to me? I’ll go over it later.”

Later, as in sometime when Matteo wasn’t around.

It had been this way for almost as long as Darcy could remember. It seemed like mere weeks between the time Paul died and the parade of new friends/uncles/possible new daddies had begun. As an adult, Darcy could look back and see that, yes, Sylvie had gone quite a while without adult companionship, and, yes, it was rather pathetic that she became so dependent on them so quickly. Most of the time Darcy rolled her eyes and gave thanks that she was no longer young enough to have to tag along when Sylvie decided to follow her latest love. Seeing the world was fine and dandy, but Darcy had inherited her father’s love of home. She was quite happy to spend her days in her snug little house, just her and Cady. And, usually, Ian. Who had turned out to deliver the kind of kiss that left her wishing it had gone on just a little longer—

Oh, no. Inheriting Sylvie’s hair and eyes was one thing. Inheriting her man-induced dizziness was quite another.

“Okay. I’ll email you. Better run, Cady’s waking up,” she lied. “Say hi to Matteo for me. I’ll talk to you next week.”

She ended the call quickly in case any rogue Sylvie genes were being activated by the contact, distant though it might be.

“At least that’s behind me,” she said to the robins perched in the crab apple tree next to the porch. They didn’t seem remotely impressed with her amazing strength and fortitude.

Though maybe that was because they were mind readers who knew that while a part of her was busy shaking her head over Sylvie, another part was reliving that quick kiss with Ian and wondering about the justice of a world where a grandmother was seeing more action than her daughter ever had.

* * *

SOMEWHERE IN THE TALK of Darcy coming along on this trip, Ian had forgotten one major point: the actual car ride.

He gripped the steering wheel and tore his focus from the traffic in front of him to do one of the status checks that had become routine after three-plus hours on the road. Cady: snoozing in her car seat. Lulu: probably asleep in her crate, if the blessed lack of yipping was any indication. And Darcy: swaying in the passenger seat, singing softly to whatever was coming out of the laptop perched on her knee. In denim shorts and headphones she looked more like a college student than a hardworking mother.

For the first time he wondered if talking her into coming along might have been a mistake. Being so close to her in the car was stirring up a crap-load of feelings, most of them pertaining to that stupid kiss. How was he supposed to prepare himself for a seriously awkward family reunion when his eyes kept drifting away from the road and over to where her shorts exposed a whole lot of leg? Long, slightly tan, totally toned leg.

And the humidity had seized control of her hair, making it extra wavy. Each curl was like an individual finger beckoning him closer.

And when she really got into the music, she did some motion with her shoulders that made her breasts jiggle beneath her T-shirt. All in all, being in the Mustang with her was way too dangerous, given that they were on a busy highway and he wasn’t supposed to be noticing her.

If he could think of something to get her talking at least the seat-dancing would stop. If only his brain cells weren’t being hijacked by his—

Thank God, right at that moment she hit a key with a flourish, punched the air and let loose with a little “yeah, yeah, yeeeeah,” before letting out a sigh of what he assumed was satisfaction.

“Ha! Take that you brain-stealing piece of busywork!”

“What were you doing this time? Something for your mom?”

“Nope. One of my other clients.”

“Ah. Another website?”

“Honestly.” This time her sigh held nothing but exasperation. Lucky for him, he could tell it was totally fake. “Author assistants do more than build sites, you know.”

“I know, I know. You set up contests, format ebooks and...other stuff.” He could go into more detail, but he didn’t want her to know how closely he’d paid attention to her work talk.

Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how much he’d picked up about it, either. It smacked too closely of being...well...too close.

“Very good. You get an A for listening.” She closed the lid on the laptop. “But this time I was planning a social media campaign. Not horribly complicated, but it’s a royal pain. I’ve earned a break. So.” She peered out the window. “Where are we? Belleville?”

“Not quite. We just passed the Trenton exit. About halfway there.”

“Good.” She twisted slightly to look behind her. He glanced her way. Mistake. Between her movements and the grip of the seat belt, her neckline was pulled sideways. He tore his gaze away, but there was no erasing the image of peachy skin and white lace that was now branded into his brain.

Yep. This trip was a serious blunder. Time to remind himself of the real reason she was sitting beside him.

“I think Xander believed the lines we fed him yesterday. About us being—”

“Right.” She sounded surprisingly flustered for someone who had spent the first hour of the drive soothing a wailing child and a howling dog without breaking a sweat. “I have to say, you did a great job. Of pretending, I mean. If the business world ever loses its appeal, have me introduce you to some of my mother’s cohorts. They might be able to make use of you.”

“Given some of the stories you’ve shared, I’m gonna say thanks but no thanks.” Especially because he hadn’t been acting so much as indulging his own needs at that moment—not that he would ever tell her that part. “But at some point we’re gonna have to come clean with him.”

“Yes. We should.”

Huh. She didn’t seem to have any ideas. Not what he expected from Darce.

“It’s your call,” he said slowly. “You’re the one who has the most at stake here. But I’m thinking, once we get back, we should probably be up front with him.”

“Right. I can tell him I was caught off guard by the jail thing, and you picked up on that and wanted to help.”

She was saying the right things, but they weren’t ringing true. But maybe she wasn’t sure how Xander would react. After all, she’d really known him only a few weeks.

“I can explain it to him. He might take it easier from me.” And if not, then Ian would rather any anger be directed at him than Darcy.

“You don’t need to—”

“Yeah, I do. It was my idea, remember? All you did was play along.” And he would forever be glad she had. Even not knowing everything that was happening, it had felt damned right to hold her close, to stand between her and someone who had caused her to look at him with that fearful appeal in her eyes. He might not be able to do a lot for Darce and Cady now—he didn’t have the legal knowledge to give her the advice she needed—but he had given her that.

“Still, I think if I explained things from my point of view, he’ll understand.”

“He probably will. But let me break it to him first, give him a chance to process it. You can go into the details later.”

“I don’t—”

“Darce. Trust me on this one, okay? It’s a guy thing.” Mostly his own thing, but let her think it was Xander’s ego on the line, not his. That would simplify life for all of them. “He’s going to be pissed, and he’s going to want to be sure that it was all for show.”

“And why should he have any say in that? He’s Cady’s father, yes, but that’s as far as it goes. He has no say as to what I do with my life, as long as Cady is safe and happy.”

“He just found out he has a daughter. Yesterday, when you first saw him, your instinct was to give her to me and trust me to take care of her. I took her inside. I fed her. I changed her frickin’ diaper.” And then I went back outside and kissed you, and everything changed, but I’m not going to dwell on that. “Cady is his daughter, but right now I’m the closest thing to a dad that she has. That’s going to eat at him. He’s going to want to know how deeply I’m tied to you two.”

Another reason why they had to end this farce sooner rather than later. The longer it went on, the more Xander would believe in it.

Ian’s own beliefs were totally irrelevant.

“I suppose you’re right.” The laughter had fled from her voice.

“I wasn’t blowing smoke last night when I said he’s basically a decent guy.”

“Except for wanting to take Lulu away from you.”

Crap, was that it? “Darce. He’s not going to try to take Cady away from you. Even if he wanted to, he just met her and he just got out of jail. He has enough to deal with already. Cady is probably the brightest spot in his life right now, but I guarantee you this, he’s smart enough to know he’s not in any position to try to be more than a very part-time dad for a long time.”

“I know. But...everything is happening so fast, and...”

He waited for one breath, then two. “And?”

“I...” She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just me being—”

Three short beeps interrupted her words and had her diving for her phone. Damn it. Of all the lousy timing.

She pulled the phone from her bag, checked the display and frowned. It hit him that she’d been doing that a lot on this trip.

“Someone text-stalking you, Darce?”

“What? Oh.” Her laugh sounded strained. “No, I...well...I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I might have a bit of a problem. With, um, Nonny.”

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means,” she said bleakly, “that I left a message for her last night, but she still hasn’t called me back.”

CHAPTER FIVE

THANK GOD FOR rest areas.

Darcy stepped stiffly out of the car and allowed herself one blissful moment to stretch every possible bit of her body before she had to dive back into Mommy mode. She reached overhead, clasped her hands, lifted her face to the sun and pulled everything she could pull.

“Dang, that feels good,” she said out loud.

She hated being confined. It hadn’t helped that the farther they went, the more she’d started to worry. About Nonny’s silence. And how Ian was going to readjust to his family. And what Xander’s reappearance would do to her family.

The worrying, however, had been almost a relief compared to the other thoughts that had flooded her imagination—thoughts of what would happen if Ian were to stop asking her about things she was already obsessing over. If, instead, he were to lift his hand from the wheel and settle it on her knee and remind her that Cady wasn’t the only one who could benefit from some distraction once in a while.

Between the fretting and the lusting, she had a pretty good idea how it would feel to be a jack-in-the-box, all coiled tight and ready to spring. If she were to take off right this minute, how many laps could she do around the crowded parking lot before Cady started crying?

The thought turned out to be purely hypothetical, for right then her little bundle of joy let loose with an impatient wail. Lulu joined in, setting the entire backseat in chaos.

Darcy glanced across the hood of the car to catch Ian’s eye. “Pay you a hundred bucks to deal with them.”

“You think I’m that easy?”

“Fine.” She huffed out an exaggerated breath and grabbed the handle, giving thanks yet again that Ian had opted for the four-door model. If she’d had to maneuver around a two-door when she was this stiff, she probably would sprain something.

Stifling a groan, she bent and reached for her squirming, wailing daughter. “Shh, Cady Bug. Shh. I know you want to get out of there. Give Mommy a minute.”

A sharp bark from Lulu cut through the indignant cries. Darcy looked up to check on the dog and saw that Ian, also bent over on the opposite side of the car, seemed to be focused on her. Or rather, on the spot where her shirt hung free at the neck, giving him a prime view of Cleavage Central.

“Oh, these stupid straps.” Pretending to fiddle with the buckle, she reached forward so her arm was closer to her body, pressing the shirt against her skin. Movement at the edge of her vision told her that Ian had backed away and was now staring intently at the latch on the crate’s door. She slipped the buckle and pulled her sweaty child free while chattering nonsense to sidetrack anyone who needed it.

“There you go, sweet cheeks.” So he’d been given a free show and he’d taken advantage of it. Okay. There was nothing there he hadn’t seen during the endless months of nursing.

“Are you ready for a diaper change? I bet you are.” It didn’t mean anything. They’d been in an awkward position and he was a man, and God knows, even a monk probably would stop and look if a woman’s shirt gaped open. Biology might not be destiny but it sure held the upper hand at times.

She slung the diaper bag over her shoulder, closed the car door with a quick hip check, jiggled Cady and finally looked for Ian. Luck was on her side. He was bent over and away from her, clipping the leash on Lulu’s collar. Not only did it mean she didn’t have to face him right away, but she also had a prime view of his—

“Crap!”

At that his head jerked around. “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. The diaper bag started to slip.” Smile. Carefree. Don’t think about his butt. “We’ll meet you back here in a few.”

“Sounds good.”

Was he as eager not to look at her as she was not to look at him?

She popped Cady on her shoulder and aimed for the building.

“Darce?”

So close, so damn close to escaping...

“Listen, if you want to get her changed and bring her back to me so you can have a few minutes alone, feel free.”

Oh.

She made herself turn around.

“Sure. That would simplify things.”

He grinned. “Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?”

Yep. Friends. That’s what they were.

“Friends are good, right, Cady?” She glanced back to be sure they were out of earshot. “Friends are wonderful. We all need friends. Looking down someone’s shirt when she’s bending over, that doesn’t mean anything. Neither does noticing that someone has a really great butt.”

Cady twisted, her palm smacking Darcy in the face.

“Ow! You know, you could just tell me I’m being an idiot. There’s no need to get physical.”

Physical.

She dealt with the diaper in record time and returned to the parking lot. Ian held tight to Lulu’s leash while she barked and ran in happy circles.

“Here you go.” She handed the baby over gladly. “There’s a line, so I might be a while.”

“Not a problem. Take your time.”

Damn. Not only did he have a killer butt and arms that were all muscle and sinew thanks to his hours working at the forge, he knew the ultimate way to a mother’s heart: giving her the ability to go to the bathroom alone.

“I hope I see your mom while I’m there.”

“Why’s that?”

“I need to thank her for raising you so well.”

His eyebrows lifted. “It’s not possible that I’m a great guy on my own? There had to be a woman behind it?”

She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder. “I can’t believe you have to ask that. See you in a few. Be awesome, Cady.”

She strolled back to the building, reveling in the moments of freedom that lay ahead. Well, as much as a girl could revel while simultaneously trying not to fret. Or drool. Or remember how right it had felt to snuggle against a welcoming body, even if it was only make-believe.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, checking once again for messages or emails. Nothing.

So much for not worrying.

The line had gone down so it took only a few minutes for her to rejoin Ian and company, now standing, crawling and sniffing around a picnic table in the grassy area off the parking lot. He was on the phone but pointed to her cooler and blanket on the table before taking off toward the building.

She spread the blanket on the ground, set Cady in the middle—yeah, that was going to last—and unpacked food. By the time he returned she was doing her best to get some banana into a child who was determined to spend her precious free time cruising and exploring instead of eating.

“Think you’re fighting a losing battle there, Darce.” Ian tossed a piece of cheese to Lulu, who snapped it up.

“If I were you, I’d focus on helping. Otherwise I’m going to be feeding her while we drive. Do you really want mashed banana all over your car?”

A low blow, she knew, but desperate times and all that crap.

He reached for a tiny square of peanut butter sandwich just as she did. Their fingers tangled in a fleeting caress. For a moment the kiss was back, hovering between them, thick and pulsing and almost visible.

For a moment she couldn’t quite draw a deep breath.

She grabbed the morsel and twisted away. “Come on, Bug. Open up. Let’s see if Mommy can hit the moving target.”

She didn’t dare look at him again. Not yet. Far safer to focus on Cady, to call comments over her shoulder, to keep Ian on the fringe of her awareness instead of in the center.

If only safe didn’t feel quite so much like deprivation...

She was sinking into her own sandwich when he steepled his fingers and tapped his thumbs together. “So,” he said. “I have a confession to make.”

“That sounds ominous. Did you finally decide that you should let me drive?”

“I called Moxie. To, uh, ask about Helene.”

So much for a peaceful few minutes to eat.

“Look,” he hurried on, “I know you two aren’t as close as you used to be, but I’ve known her all my life.”

“So have I.”

“Yeah, but I’ve spent more time with her. And for her to not answer a call from her only grandchild—well, it’s not her. Not at all. I was worried something might be wrong.”

She could give him that. The thought of Nonny, hurt and alone, had crossed her mind more than once in the past hours. She didn’t want her grandmother to be injured. God, no. But in a way that had been better than thinking Nonny was ignoring her.

“I knew that if anything was wrong Moxie would know, or find out fast. So I called. And the thing is, Darce, Helene isn’t home right now. She’s on a cruise. To Alaska.”

“Alaska?” Dang. She hadn’t known her voice could squeak that way.

“’Fraid so.”

“Okay. That certainly puts a new twist on things.” She set her sandwich on her plate and tried to think. “We’re well past the halfway point in the drive, so it doesn’t make sense to turn around.”

“Especially since Xander will be there.”

So much for her plan to put off thoughts of him until tomorrow. “I guess Cady and I can find a place for a night or two and then take the bus back.” Though in a tourist town in summer that might be more than her budget could handle. “Or— Oh, does Moxie have a key? Maybe we could stay at Nonny’s anyway.”

“I asked. Seems Helene was taking advantage of this trip to have some work done in her kitchen. It’s nonstop construction and there’s no water.”

Didn’t it figure? “So, a hotel, then. Maybe Moxie could recommend a place that won’t be too expensive and doesn’t mind a teething baby.”

“She already did.” His smile did nothing to reassure. “Her place.”

It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. “You mean stay with you and your family? I can’t do that. I haven’t seen them since...jeez, since the last time I was up there. High school, probably. That’s a long time, North.”

“Doesn’t matter. Moxie is Helene’s best friend. You were at the house every summer. I’m living with you. Sort of,” he added with an altogether too-endearing blush. “You’re practically family.”

“Well, not to me.”

He sat back, arms crossed, and grinned in a most maddening way—as though he knew something she didn’t.

“What?” Now her stomach hurt.

“What what?”

“You have that look. Like you know something I don’t know and you’re savoring the moment.”

He shrugged and pulled an apple from his bag. “Just thinking.” One eyebrow quirked. “About what Moxie will say to that.”

Her own memories of the formidable Mrs. North, combined with the stories Ian had shared over the years, gave her a moment’s concern. But on the other hand...

“Look, I not only was raised by a diva, I spent most of my adult life making sure she got everything she wanted the minute she needed it. I have out-conned hotel managers, stage managers, agents and, worst of all, other divas. And I can do it in three languages. Four if you count swearing in German. There’s no way Moxie can make me stay at your family’s home.”

But, piped up a sly little voice inside her, if you stayed at the house, it might give you more chances to see Ian and Carter together. See if they need a hand reconciling and all that.

Not a bad point. She’d be more inclined to listen if she could be sure the voice wasn’t being fueled by those sneaky hormones.

Ian bit into the apple, backhanded juice from his chin and let loose a grin. “You know, I think I should call the rest of the family. Maybe sell tickets. This could be the smackdown of the century.”

“What smackdown? I don’t need to get violent. I’ll just say, ‘Thank you very much. That’s incredibly generous, but I can’t possibly.’ Which will be even easier if you drop me someplace before you go home.”

“Are you kidding? That’s like handing my head to her on a silver platter. It’s going to be hard enough going home already. I’m not making Moxie pissed off before I even walk through the door.”

Guilt tugged at her. She’d forgotten that he was walking back into a situation loaded with land mines.

“And that’s precisely why you don’t need me around. You and your family need to get past this on your own without tiptoeing around some stranger—”

“Almost family.”

“—and her baby.”

“Very true. At least, when it comes to you.” He pointed to the child clinging to the picnic bench. “It’s Cady I really want.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“She’s the perfect diversion. If things get too intense, all I have to do is hold her up and make her blow raspberries, and there ya go. Crisis averted.”

“Cute and possibly correct. But my kid is not going to be your auto-distraction.”

“Not even for a day or two?”

She was on the edge of giving him a resounding no when she heard the plea beneath his words. He was only half joking. And being a guy, he probably didn’t even know it.

Just like he probably had no clue that the only one he really wanted to avoid was Carter. She didn’t think it was simply an oversight that had led him to tell her about Taylor and the broken engagement but never once mention Carter’s role.

Unbidden, she remembered Ian walking into the backyard after Xander had dropped his jail bomb. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life, except maybe the anesthesiologist who administered her epidural. She had desperately needed someone nearby, someone she could trust to keep her steady while the rest of the world swirled around her.

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