One Kiss

For twelve years Tristyn Garrett ignored the near kiss with family friend and current boss Josh Slater...until the confirmed bachelor shows up with three adorable little girls in his arms. Making him simply irresistible...

Two Months

But resist she must, especially when she’s trapped for the summer in an RV on the car-racing circuit with the girls and the one man she can’t allow herself to have. Because he broke her heart once—she won’t let him do it again!

Three Kids

Caring for his nieces on the road, Josh needs Tristyn. But the kiss that got away looms large in the small space...till Josh devises a plan: kiss her again and get it out of his system. With three little chaperones, what can possibly happen?

The inadvertent contact made him groan.

Tristyn backed up. “You’re in my space.” When Josh didn’t step away, she said, “Could you please get out of my space?”

“I could...” Instead, he stepped forward, breaching the distance between them.

“Twelve years,” he murmured as he caught her chin in his hand. “It’s a long time to wonder, don’t you think?”

“I guess that depends on what you’re wondering.” Her tone was neutral but he caught her breathlessness.

“The same thing you are.”

She was trembling. Not with fear, she realized. With desire. But going down that path with Josh now would be dangerous. Still, she played along.

“And what is that?” she asked.

He didn’t say the words. He simply brushed her lips with his.

And with that kiss, any thought of resistance fizzled away. In that moment there was only Josh. And the intoxicating sensation of his kiss.

Twelve years ago she would’ve given anything to experience this. Twelve years ago she’d been totally unprepared for this. Even now, she wasn’t sure what to do with the desire that pulsed through her veins.

All she knew was that if she touched him now, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

* * *

Those Engaging Garretts!— The Carolina Cousins

The Last Single Garrett

Brenda Harlen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BRENDA HARLEN is a former attorney who once had the privilege of appearing before the Supreme Court of Canada. The practice of law taught her a lot about the world and reinforced her determination to become a writer—because in fiction, she could promise a happy ending! Now she is an award-winning, national bestselling author of more than thirty titles for Mills & Boon. You can keep up-to-date with Brenda on Facebook and Twitter or through her website, www.brendaharlen.com.

For my readers—thank you!

XO

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Tristyn Garrett didn’t get paid to keep tabs on Josh Slater.

Though her responsibilities at Garrett/Slater Racing seemed ever growing and changing, that wasn’t one of them. So when Dave Barkov came into the building for his nine-thirty meeting with her too-sexy-for-his-own-good boss, she buzzed Josh’s office. As a co-owner of the race team, Josh didn’t always keep regular hours, but he was always there when he needed to be.

So why wasn’t he there now?

“Excuse me for a minute,” she said to Mr. Barkov, and made her way down the hall to Josh’s office. The door was open, but the lights were off and the chair behind his desk was empty. His computer, which was always on, was flashing a reminder of the meeting with Dave Barkov, which Josh wasn’t there to see.

Across the hall, her cousin’s office was also empty, but she knew that Daniel was at the wind tunnel with Ren D’Alesio and his crew chief. She had received no communication from Josh to explain his absence.

Ordinarily she wouldn’t worry about where he was, what he was doing or even who he was with, but Mr. Barkov was a potential new sponsor and this tour of the facilities in Charisma, North Carolina, had been set up weeks ago. She knew because she’d set it up, after ensuring that the date and time worked for Josh. Right now, she was silently cursing the fact that she worked for him.

Their relationship was a mostly, if not strictly, professional one. Josh had been friends with her cousin Daniel for as long as she could remember, and over the past several years, he’d become a regular fixture at family events. He was, in many ways, like another cousin to her, except that she got along really well with all her cousins and her relationship with Josh wasn’t always so amicable.

At the shop, they worked well together because each was focused on the performance of their respective duties. But away from GSR, there was often an uncomfortable...friction...between them.

She blamed Josh for that friction. He seemed to enjoy saying and doing things for the sole purpose of riling her, and even aware of that fact, she couldn’t always control her reactions. Her sisters liked to tease that it was sexual tension and suggested that Tristyn could alleviate the problem by getting naked with Josh, but that wasn’t going to happen—no way, no how, not ever.

But his failure to show up for a scheduled meeting with a new sponsor was completely out of character. Because as much as she occasionally accused him of being immature and unreliable, when it came to the business aspects of GSR, he was the poster boy for responsibility. Of course, he’d sunk a large portion of his own money—courtesy of his interest in Slater Industries, the company owned and operated by his parents—into the business and had convinced her cousin to do the same.

While Mr. Barkov waited, Tristyn called Josh’s cell phone. She also sent a text message and an email, but he didn’t respond to any of her attempts at communication. So she put a smile on her face and apologized to the sponsor, explaining that both the team’s owners were tied up in a meeting elsewhere and offering to either reschedule or give him the promised tour of the facilities herself.

Mr. Barkov opted for the tour.

Two hours later, when he had finally gone and Daniel had returned from his meeting, she gave a perfunctory knock on her cousin’s open door before she stepped through it and into his office. “Where the hell is he?”

Daniel looked up from his computer screen, his dark brows drawing together. “Who?”

She rolled her eyes. “The Slater half of Garrett/Slater Racing.”

“I haven’t seen him yet this morning,” Daniel admitted.

“Because he’s AWOL,” Tristyn said, not even trying to hide her irritation.

“A few hours late is hardly AWOL,” he chided.

“It’s not a few hours,” she argued. “Nobody has heard a single word from him since he left the track Saturday afternoon.”

“He said something about having to deal with a family crisis,” her cousin told her.

Concern immediately edged aside her irritation. “What kind of family crisis?”

Daniel shrugged. “I didn’t ask. I figured that came under the heading of ‘personal’ business, which means it’s none of mine—and none of yours, either.”

Tristyn considered that for a minute before nodding in acknowledgment of the point. “Okay—it’s none of my business,” she agreed. “But I think you should call him.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve tried calling, texting and emailing, with no response, so I’m wondering if there’s a reason that he’s ignoring me.”

Her cousin’s brows winged up. “Is there?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” she said. “But he’s never ignored my communications or been out of touch for so long before.”

Daniel hit the speakerphone button, then punched in his friend’s number. The call went immediately to voice mail—as each of hers had done.

You’ve reached Josh Slater. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.

The beep sounded, then Daniel began to speak. “Hey, Josh. Give me a call when you get this message. I’ve got Tris in my office with a worried look on her face because she can’t get in touch with you.”

“I’m only worried that I’ll have to cover for him when Dave Barkov shows up to meet the crew and tour the facilities,” she interjected. “Oh, wait—I already did.”

Daniel disconnected the call and slid her a look. “And you wonder why he might be ignoring you,” he noted drily.

“He blew off a meeting with a potential sponsor,” she said again.

“He’ll check in soon,” her cousin assured her, but she suspected he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

“Let me know when he does,” she suggested.

Tristyn went back to her desk. As the administrative assistant and head of PR for the team, she had more than enough work to keep herself busy for the rest of the day. By three o’clock, when Josh hadn’t checked in with her or returned Daniel’s call, she picked up her purse and stopped by her cousin’s office again.

“I’m going to detour past his place on my way home,” she said.

Daniel glanced at his watch, frowned. “You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”

Maybe she was a little concerned, because it wasn’t like Josh to be out of touch. The man practically lived with his phone in his hand, answering calls when they came in and responding to emails and text messages right away. But she wasn’t going to admit her concern to her cousin.

“I’m annoyed,” she said, because that was true, too. “I had to work through my lunch today to make up for the time I spent with your sponsor because Josh was a no-show.”

“I’m sure Dave Barkov was more grateful than annoyed,” her cousin said. “After all, you’re a lot prettier than Josh is.”

She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As she drove toward Josh’s condo, she thought about her cousin’s parting remark. While it was true that no one would ever apply the “pretty” label to Josh Slater, there were several others that came to mind. At six feet two inches, with dark blond hair, smoky gray eyes and a mouth that promised all kinds of wicked pleasure, he was tempting. Tantalizing. Hot.

Oh, yes, he was very definitely hot.

And she’d already been burned.

* * *

Josh Slater stared at the disaster zone that used to be his kitchen and tried to decide if he should wade into the mess or call a hazmat team. In addition to the pile of dishes from breakfast and lunch, there was a long drip of dried pancake batter on the oven door, toast crumbs on the counter, Cheerios on the floor and a pot with the congealed remnants of mac and cheese stuck to the bottom. He waded into the mess and had just filled the sink with soapy water when a knock sounded at the door.

He wasn’t expecting any more visitors—he’d already had more than he’d anticipated this weekend and wasn’t eager to add to the number. He decided to ignore the summons and pretend he wasn’t home.

The knock sounded again, louder and more insistent this time. He frowned, thinking that if a knock could exhibit personality traits, this one was brisk and impatient, very much like...Tristyn Garrett.

Because she was on his mind, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear her voice come through the door. “If you’re in there, Josh, you better open this door before I call 911 and have the fire department break it down.”

Since she didn’t usually issue idle threats, he wiped his hands on a towel and opened the door. “What are you doing here, Tristyn?”

“Nice greeting.” Her deep green eyes narrowed as they skimmed over him, silently assessing. “You look like hell.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, felt the rasp of stubble on his jaw. Apparently he’d forgotten to shave this morning. But at least he’d showered. He was pretty sure he’d showered.

Tristyn, by contrast, looked stunning. With her slender build, deep green eyes and perfectly shaped mouth, she could easily have made a fortune in front of a camera. Of course, as a Garrett, she was already heir to a fortune. Still, she worked as hard as anyone else at GSR, often exceeding even his expectations—as she’d done again by showing up at his door.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” he finally responded to her comment.

He saw the cool derision in her eyes fade. “Are you sick?” She took a step forward and lifted her hand as if to check his temperature.

He stepped back, forcing her to drop her hand. Since she’d been enticed by her cousin Daniel to work for Garrett/Slater Racing two years earlier, he’d been forced to acknowledge that his best friend’s little cousin was all grown up. But she was still his best friend’s cousin, which meant that even if she looked like every man’s fantasy, she was off-limits to him.

That knowledge hadn’t stopped him from dreaming of her hands on him—frequent and explicit dreams. But he didn’t want her touching him because she felt sorry for him. It was much better if they both respected the walls she’d built between them.

“No, I’m not sick,” he told her. “I’m just exhausted from trying to keep up with three very demanding females.”

As he’d expected, the casual—and yes, deliberately provocative—words erased any hint of sympathy from her pretty green eyes. Now they glittered like emeralds—hard and sharp. “Seriously? You blew off a scheduled meeting with a sponsor because you’re recovering from a weekend orgy?”

Before he could respond, a tiny voice piped up to ask, “Whatsa orgy?”

Ah, hell.

Josh cringed at the sound of the adult word coming out of the little girl’s mouth as he turned to face his five-year-old niece. “I thought you were watching a movie in the bedroom,” he said.

Emily shook her head. “I don’t like the movie—it’s scary.”

“It’s a princess movie,” he pointed out. “How scary can it be?” Although he’d never seen it himself, he’d found it in one of the half dozen suitcases his sister had dumped in his foyer along with her three daughters, so he’d assumed it was suitable for the kids.

“It’s scary,” she insisted.

“This is my niece Emily,” Josh said. “Emily, this is Tristyn.”

“Hi,” the little girl said shyly.

Tristyn crouched down so that she was at eye level with the little girl—inadvertently providing him with a perfect view down the open vee of her blouse. And the view was perfect: sweetly rounded curves peeking over the edge of delicate white lace. He didn’t look away until the lower part of his anatomy began to stir with appreciation.

“What movie are you watching?” Tristyn asked.

“The Princess and the Frog.”

“Are you at the part where the prince goes to see the witch doctor?” she asked.

Emily nodded solemnly, her big blue eyes wide and worried.

“That is a scary part,” Tristyn admitted. “But I watched the movie just a couple of weeks ago with my niece, so I can tell you that the scary part will be over soon, then there are some funny parts and the movie has a happy ending.”

Emily chewed on her lower lip. “For real?”

“For real,” Tristyn promised.

“You wanna watch the movie?” the little girl asked.

“I would love to watch the movie,” she said. “But I need to talk to your uncle for a little bit first, okay?”

“Okay,” Emily agreed, and reluctantly headed back to the bedroom where the “scary” movie was playing.

Tristyn stood up again, tugging down the hem of the short skirt that had ridden up her thighs. She had spectacular legs to go with her tempting feminine curves—an almost irresistible package.

“Is she one of the females who kept you up all night?” she asked him now.

“Yeah,” he admitted, with obvious reluctance. “Emily is my sister’s middle daughter. She has two sisters, Charlotte, who is a couple years older, and Hanna, who is younger.”

Tristyn curled her hand into a fist and punched him in the arm. She put some force behind the motion, but her effort glanced off his biceps.

He lifted a brow. “What was that for?”

“Because you’re an idiot.” She opened her hand, flexed her fingers. “Jeez—your arm is as hard as your head.”

“You’ve often accused me of being an idiot,” he pointed out, ignoring her latter comment. “But it’s never driven you to violence before.”

She just shook her head. “What is wrong with you that you would rather let me believe you spent the weekend participating in an orgy than admit you were taking care of your sister’s kids?”

“Maybe I didn’t want to disillusion you.”

“Into thinking that you had a heart in addition to your hormones?”

He shrugged. “We both know that our relationship is...safer—” he decided “—when you don’t have any illusions about me being a nice guy.”

“Don’t worry—discovering that you spent a weekend with your nieces isn’t going to change my opinion of you.”

“Good to know,” he said.

“Although I am curious about why they’re here—and where your sister is.”

“Long story.”

“And why haven’t you been answering your phone?” she asked.

“Because I can’t find it,” he admitted.

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “I remember answering a text message when I was scooping up ice cream for the girls last night, but I haven’t seen it since then.”

“I assume you’ve looked in the kitchen?”

He hesitated, just a fraction of a second. “Yeah.”

“That didn’t sound very convincing.”

“The kitchen is a bit of a mess right now,” he admitted. “But I’m hoping the phone will turn up as I clear things away.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” she offered, already moving toward the kitchen.

Josh followed, enjoying the sexy sway of her hips—and nearly ran right into the back of her when she halted abruptly in the doorway.

She slowly turned to face him. “This is a bit of a mess?”

“I didn’t have a chance to clear away breakfast dishes before it was time for lunch,” he admitted.

“But you have a dishwasher,” she pointed out.

“Still filled with clean dishes from yesterday.”

She shook her head despairingly. “I’ll put those away while you get the rest of this chaos organized.”

He should have refused her offer of help, but the truth was, he was grateful. He was also appreciative of the fact that every time she bent forward, he could see down her top. Because Tristyn Garrett might be a pain in his ass a lot of the time, but she had a body that seemed to have been designed to fuel male fantasies.

She removed the cutlery basket and set it on the counter, then paused. He gestured to the drawer on the other side of the dishwasher, assuming that she didn’t know where to put the clean forks and knives. But she made no move to open it.

“Um...Josh.”

He immediately shifted his gaze from the nicely rounded curve of her butt to her face, hoping like hell she hadn’t seen him looking where he had no business looking. “What?”

She lifted something out of the basket and held it up. “I found your phone.”

Chapter Two

While his response was a harshly muttered four-letter expletive, Tristyn had to press her lips together so that she didn’t laugh. Because it wasn’t funny.

Well, it was kind of funny.

Because Josh’s phone was as essential to him as the air he breathed into his lungs and the blood that flowed through his veins. A fact that was evidenced by the apoplectic expression on his face.

He snatched the device out of her hand and marched purposefully down the hallway. Curious to see how he would handle this incident, Tristyn followed, her steps faltering when she realized she was in the doorway of the master bedroom.

Josh’s bedroom.

Part of her wanted to turn away, to let his private sanctuary remain private. Another part urged her to take a peek. That part won.

Her gaze moved around the space, noting the enormous king-size platform bed centered on the far wall and flanked by a set of night tables that matched the wardrobe, long dresser and entertainment stand. She glanced up at the ceiling—nope, no mirrors. So maybe he wasn’t quite the degenerate she’d always believed him to be.

And while there was no denying this room was a man’s domain, the decor was simple but inviting. Walls painted in a pale neutral tone that reminded her of the sand on a pristine Caribbean beach; pale floors that she guessed were bamboo and that contrasted nicely with the dark walnut finish of the classic mission-style furniture she recognized from the Garrett catalog.

Usually a man’s domain, she clarified, as her attention shifted to the three girls snuggled together on the bed, propped up on a mountain of pillows against the headboard. Emily—the one who hadn’t wanted to watch the scary movie—was on the side closest to the door. In the middle was Hanna—a preschooler, Tristyn guessed, with big blue eyes focused on the screen and uneven blond pigtails sprouting out of the sides of her head. On the far side was Charlotte—obviously the oldest sibling, also blond and blue-eyed, wearing ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with some kind of picture on the front that Tristyn couldn’t see because the girl’s arms were folded across her chest in a posture that she recognized as pure unhappy female attitude.

None of them paid any attention to their uncle. It was as if they weren’t even aware that he was facing them from the foot of the bed. But that might be because they were all mesmerized by the animated feature playing on a television screen that was probably ten inches bigger than the one Tristyn had in her living room.

Josh scooped up the remote and thumbed a button to pause the movie, which finally succeeded in drawing the girls’ eyes to him.

Charlotte opened her mouth as if to say something, then saw the phone in Josh’s hand, slid a quick glance toward the sister snuggled up beside her and closed it again without saying a word.

“Anyone?” Josh prompted.

“I talk,” Hanna offered, crawling to the end of the mattress and reaching her hand up for the phone.

“That would be great, wouldn’t it?” he said, his gaze moving over each of them in turn. “But someone put it in the dishwasher.”

His littlest niece nodded solemnly. “Make it c’ean.”

Tristyn saw a muscle in his jaw flex. “It didn’t need to go in the dishwasher to be cleaned,” he said through gritted teeth. “It was already clean.”

This time Hanna shook her head. “I dwop ice cweam on it.”

Josh blew out a frustrated breath and scrubbed his free hand over his face.

“You did say that you didn’t want to find sticky fingerprints on any of your things,” Charlotte pointed out in defense of her sibling.

“Meaning that I didn’t want any of you to touch any of my things,” he clarified.

His eldest niece shrugged. “Hanna tends to take things literally.”

“She killed my phone.”

The little girl looked up at him. “I so-wee, Unca Josh.” She reached up to take the phone, puckered her lips and kissed the screen before handing it back to him. “All better?”

He sighed again as he dropped the now useless device into the side pocket of his cargo shorts, but one side of his mouth curved in a half smile. “It’s not that easy, kiddo.” He tapped a finger to his cheek. “You have to give a kiss here to make it all better.”

She smiled and held her arms in the air. He slid one of his around her torso, and the natural ease with which he lifted the little girl onto his hip made something inside Tristyn’s chest flutter. She wasn’t usually the type to get quivery over a man, but apparently seeing this strong, sexy male cuddle with a sweet little girl was all it took for her to feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Hanna wrapped both her arms around his neck and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. Then she drew her head back, her nose wrinkling with obvious displeasure. “You’re scwatchy,” she told him.

“Yeah, I forgot to shave this morning,” he admitted, setting her on the bed again.

She immediately returned to the pile of pillows, then smiled at him again. “Movie?” she asked hopefully.

“After your movie is done and the kitchen is clean, we’re going to have to go out so that I can buy a new phone,” Josh told them, as he picked up the remote again.

Tristyn turned to follow him back down the hall. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Believed what?”

“That you’re a marshmallow.”

He stopped then and turned to face her, his brows drawing together over smoke-colored eyes. “I am not.”

“Yes, you are,” she insisted. “You’re all soft and squishy—like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.”

Those eyes narrowed dangerously, the only warning she had before he took two slow and deliberate steps forward. She automatically took two steps back. He laid his palms flat on the wall on either side of her, then leaned in, so that his body brushed against hers. His undeniably lean and very hard body.

“Do I feel soft and squishy to you?” he asked, his mouth close to her ear.

She lifted her palms to his chest, where his heart was beating in a rhythm much steadier than her own, to hold him at a distance. She had to moisten her suddenly dry lips with her tongue before she could reply, but she managed to keep her tone light and casual when she said, “In here.” And tapped her fingers against his rock hard chest. “Your heart is soft and squishy.”

“Because I didn’t yell at a three-year-old?” he challenged.

“You not only didn’t yell,” she pointed out. “You melted. That little girl looked at you with those big blue eyes and said, ‘I so-wee, Unca Josh,’ and it was as if you completely forgot she destroyed an eight hundred dollar phone.”

“It’s just a phone,” he said, conveniently ignoring the monetary value.

“Well, at least now I know why you didn’t answer any of my calls, text messages or emails today,” she noted.

He was still crowding her, standing so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body. So close she had only to lean forward to touch her mouth to his strong square jaw. Her lips tingled with anticipation; her body whispered “yes, please.” She clamped her lips firmly together and pressed herself back against the wall.

“Were you worried about me, Tris?” he asked, the silky tone of his voice sliding over her like a caress.

“No,” she denied. Lied. “I was annoyed that I had to give Dave Barkov the tour of GSR.”

“I never doubted that you could handle it,” he told her.

“That’s not the point,” she said, ducking under his arm and walking away.

He, naturally, followed. “Do you want an apology? Okay—I’m sorry I was out of touch for a few hours.”

She shook her head as she returned to the kitchen to resume the task she’d abandoned earlier. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s not just that you didn’t tell anyone you wouldn’t be at work today—you didn’t even tell your friends what was going on here.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. “Is that what we are, Tris...friends?” he asked, in that same silky voice that could make any woman go weak in the knees.

Any woman but her, of course, because she was immune to the considerable charms of Josh Slater.

“Maybe not,” she finally said, determined not to give any hint of the feelings churning inside her. “A friend probably would have known you have three nieces.”

“It’s not something that often comes up in conversation,” he pointed out. “And since my sister moved to Seattle when Charlotte was a baby, I don’t get to see them very often.”

“That’s why you go to Washington every Christmas,” she realized.

“Not every Christmas.” He picked up the soapy cloth to wipe down the stovetop. “But I go when I can.”

She finished unloading the clean dishes and began to load the dirty ones. “So why are they here now?”

“Lucinda’s manager decided, at the last minute, to send her to Spain. The company she works for is setting up a new distribution center there and her pregnant boss, who was supposed to supervise the setup and train the staff, was recently put on bed rest by her doctor, so the company tapped Lucy to go.”

“Why did I always think your sister worked at Slater Industries?”

“My older sister, Miranda, does,” he told her. “She lives in London with her husband and their kids and manages the office there.”

Which meant that he probably didn’t get to see them very often, either, and perhaps explained why he was always hanging out at Garrett family events. Something to think about.

“How did you end up with so many dishes from two meals?” she asked, as she continued to fill the dishwasher.

“Each of the girls wanted something different for breakfast,” he admitted.

“And you indulged them,” she guessed.

“Well, Emily was up first and she asked for dippy eggs with toast sticks, so I figured I would make eggs for everyone. Then Charlotte woke up and informed me she doesn’t eat eggs—except if they’re in pancake batter. So while Emily was eating her eggs, I found a recipe for pancakes and started making those for Charlotte. By this time, Hanna was awake, too. But she just wanted cereal and seemed perfectly happy with the Cheerios I put on the table in front of her—until I made the mistake of pouring milk into the bowl.”

Tristyn’s lips curved as she pictured the scene he’d described. “Did she scream like a banshee?”

“I thought the neighbors would be knocking on my door—or Family Services,” he admitted.

“Kylie went through a dry cereal stage,” she told him. “Except for Rice Krispies, because they ‘talk’ when you put milk on them.”

“And this—” he said, scraping the remnants of a pot into the garbage can “—is what’s left of the mac and cheese they all had for lunch.”

“Well, that’s a score,” she noted. “Pleasing all three of them with the same food.”

“Except that Charlotte likes hers with ketchup mixed into it, Emily doesn’t like it with ketchup at all and Hanna’s ketchup has to be squirted on top of the pasta in the shape of a smiley face.”

Tristyn smiled at that image, too. “And how long are they staying?”

“Eight to ten weeks.”

Her brows winged up. “What are you going to do with them for two months?”

He wiped his hands on a towel, then folded it over the handle of the oven door. “I’m thinking I should talk to my grandparents, to see if they’re willing to take them for the summer.”

“Didn’t your grandmother just celebrate her eightieth birthday a few weeks back?”

He nodded.

“And your grandfather’s a couple of years older than she is,” Tristyn pointed out.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But they both play golf several times a week.”

“Which is impressive,” she acknowledged, “but still not as physically demanding as chasing after three kids. And considering that your sister entrusted you with the care of her children, I don’t think she’d be too happy to learn that you dumped them on someone else.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Hire a sitter to take care of them when I’m not here? Which is most of the time during race season,” he reminded her.

She shook her head. “That’s not an ideal situation, either.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Not off the top of my head,” she admitted, closing the dishwasher.

“Well, let me know if you think of something,” he said. “They’ve hardly been here twenty-four hours, and I’m desperate enough to consider almost anything.”

* * *

As Tristyn watched the last half hour of the movie with Josh’s nieces, she tried not to think about the fact that she was in Josh’s bed. On Josh’s bed, she hastily amended. As if that clarification made any difference.

She wondered how many women had passed through that same doorway, laid on this same bed. Then pushed the question aside, deciding she didn’t want to know. Still, she felt as if she shouldn’t be here. She knew now why he hadn’t shown up at work today, and why he would be juggling his schedule for the rest of the week—and possibly the rest of the summer. And now that her questions were answered, there was no reason for her to stay.

No reason except that she’d made an impulsive promise to a little girl. A little girl who was even now pressed against her side, her face turned away from the screen as the Shadow Man’s spirit was taken away by the demons. But truthfully, her promise to Emily was only part of it. She was also intrigued by the opportunity to glimpse a corner of Josh’s personal life and curious to see him interact with the little girls.

She vaguely remembered Lucy Slater from Hillfield Academy. Josh’s younger sister had been two years behind Tristyn—a popular girl who liked to party more than study. She got kicked out midway through her sophomore year and wound up pregnant a couple years after that. By that time, Tristyn was mostly keeping her distance from Josh, so any information she had was secondhand from her cousin Daniel. There had apparently been a hasty wedding, and an even hastier divorce.

Obviously Lucy had gone on to have two more children and was now the mother of three beautiful girls. Three beautiful girls who were in Josh’s care for the summer. Tristyn smiled a little at the thought of how the responsibilities would put a crimp in his usually active social life. Maybe she could offer to help with the girls, because it might be fun to have a front-row seat to the fireworks while he figured out how to mesh his life with the needs and demands of his three nieces.

Except that spending too much time in close proximity to Josh was a risk. Sure, they were friends—or at least friendly—most of the time, but there was also that uncomfortable friction that occasionally reared up between them—seemingly more frequently in recent years.

As Daniel’s best friend and business partner, Josh was almost an honorary Garrett. Because his parents traveled a lot to oversee the various offices and interests of Slater Industries—a multinational investment company—he was often on his own for national holidays, and Daniel’s mom, Jane, always included him in whatever plans the Garretts made. As a result, Tristyn had spent a lot more time with him over the past two decades than she’d sometimes wanted to.

In many ways, Josh had been like another cousin, and almost as bossy and annoying as most of her cousins were—at least from the perspective of a ten-year-old girl who hated to be excluded from their activities because of her age and her gender. She didn’t look at him any differently than she looked at Daniel or Justin or Nathan or Ryan. Not until the summer after she’d turned thirteen, when suddenly being around him made her heart beat just a little bit faster. And she would blush and stutter in response whenever he spoke to her.

Her sisters teased her about her crush on Daniel’s best friend, which she vehemently denied. He was just an idiot boy like the rest of their idiot cousins and all the other idiot boys she knew. Of course, Lauryn and Jordyn didn’t believe her denials. And when Tristyn saw Josh making out with Missy Harlowe (aka Missy Harlot) beneath the bleachers of the football field, she felt as if she’d been stabbed in the heart. This unexpectedly fierce reaction forced her to acknowledge the truth of her feelings, if only to herself. She was in love with Josh Slater.

Later, she’d realized that what she’d thought was love was only an infatuation. Regardless of what she called it, there was no denying that he’d been her first real crush. And seeing him with other girls—and there were a lot of other girls—had broken her heart each and every time. She cried when he graduated from Hillfield Academy, because she would no longer see him at school every day. And she cried again when he went away to college, certain that her broken heart would never heal.

By the time Josh came home with Daniel for Thanksgiving, she had a boyfriend. Mitch Harlowe—Missy’s younger brother—was a varsity athlete and an honor roll student with curly brown hair and eyes the color of melted chocolate. And he looked at her in a way that Josh never had—as if she was the most beautiful girl in the world and he was the luckiest boy in the world just to be with her.

She dated Mitch for more than a year and a half, but they never went “all the way.” She was tempted, but she didn’t want to be one of “those girls.” They did a lot of other things, and Mitch was mostly patient with her—and undeniably relieved when she suggested that, maybe, after prom, they could finally “do it.” He was first in line the day prom tickets went on sale.

She smiled a little at the memory, but her smile faded when her thoughts skipped ahead to that night—and an ending that neither of them had planned.

“You were right,” Emily said, drawing Tristyn’s attention back to the screen where the human-again couple were sealing their wedding vows with a kiss. “It does have a happy ending.”

“It’s not over yet,” Charlotte told her sister. “It’s not over until they show all the names of the people in the movie.”

But a few minutes later, it was over.

“Okay, girls,” Josh said from the doorway. “Time to get your shoes on.”

“That’s my cue to head out,” Tristyn said to them.

Josh looked slightly panicked as she made her way toward the door. “Do you have to go?”

“You’re leaving, too,” she pointed out.

“But I was thinking—hoping,” he admitted, “that you might come with us.”

She didn’t delude herself into thinking that he wanted her company. The simple and obvious truth was that he had no clue what to do with the three little girls left in his care and he was desperate for help with them. And yet she couldn’t resist turning his own words around on him.

“Why is that?” she asked, blatantly fluttering her eyelashes. “Does keeping up with three females require more stamina than you possess?”

Chapter Three

Josh slid an arm around her back and drew her closer. So close that her breasts rubbed against his chest. Even through the layers of clothing that separated them, she felt her nipples tighten and strain against the lace of her bra. She lifted her eyes to his, and the intensity in his gray gaze nearly made her shiver.

“Do you want a demonstration of my stamina?” he asked.

She wanted to push him away, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that his touch affected her. Instead, she rolled her eyes. “Not even in your dreams.”

His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “You have no control over my dreams.”

“Then definitely not in any version of reality,” she amended.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, finally releasing her.

“Positive,” she said, taking just a half step back so that she could breathe without his proximity short-circuiting her brain.

And clearly her brain had short-circuited or she wouldn’t have baited him in such a way. Because even if she was no longer a teenager experiencing her first infatuation, compared to Josh Slater she was still a novice when it came to the games that men and women played.

“In that case, there’s no reason you would object to accompanying me and the girls,” he suggested.

He was right. For the past dozen years, most of their public interactions had been civil—if occasionally adversarial. It was only when they were alone together—which she tried to avoid, if at all possible—that they tiptoed around one another. But if she went along, they would have the barrier of three little girls to prevent them from rubbing one another the wrong way and creating a familiar and dangerously tempting friction.

“Let’s go get you a phone,” she agreed.

* * *

As soon as they stepped through the doors of the electronics store, Charlotte and Emily made a beeline toward the video games on display. Josh opened his mouth to call them back just as a young salesman stepped up and Hanna announced, “I has to go potty.”

With an apologetic glance toward the store employee, he shifted his attention to his youngest niece. “Why didn’t you go before we left home?”

“I didn’t has to go before,” she said with unerring logic. “I has to go now.”

He looked at the salesman, who shook his head. “Sorry, we don’t have any public restrooms here.”

“There’s a coffee shop next door,” Tristyn pointed out. “I’ll take her there.”

“Thank you,” Josh said.

As they turned around and went back out the door, he caught up with Charlotte and Emily. “You can stay here to look at the games or whatever,” he told them. “But stay together.”

“Okay,” they agreed, each already with a controller in hand and attention fixed on the demo game system.

The hopeful employee was still hovering beside him—no doubt working on commission. “Can I help you find something, sir?”

“I need a new phone,” he admitted, and handed over his dead—albeit squeaky clean—iPhone 7.

Tristyn returned with Hanna just as the tech guy—who had been attempting to work magic on Josh’s SIM card—gave him the bad news: none of the information could be salvaged. Which wasn’t really a surprise but a disappointment nonetheless.

“All of those names and numbers...gone?” Tristyn asked, feigning horror. “The cute little messages with kissy-face emojis from all of your girlfriends...gone? Your electronic little black book...gone?”

He slid her a look. “No worries—I have a real little black book for all of the important names and numbers.”

“I have no doubt,” she said.

Josh passed his credit card to the salesman. A few minutes later, he walked out of the store with his new phone, which indicated the time to be 5:26 p.m.

“I’m hungry, Uncle Josh,” Emily said.

“It’s not even five thirty,” he noted. “What time do you guys usually eat?”

“Five thirty,” Charlotte told him.

“I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” he acknowledged, mentally inventorying the contents of his refrigerator to determine if he had anything left to feed them. “What do you like to eat?”

“Pizza,” Emily announced.

“Chicken fingers,” Charlotte countered.

“S’ghetti,” Hanna chimed in.

“Well, at least we have a consensus,” he said drily.

“What’s a sen-sus?” Emily asked.

“It means agreement,” he told her.

Her little brow furrowed.

“He was being sarcastic,” her older sister explained.

“Oh,” Emily said. Then, “What’s scar-tas-tic?”

“Sarcastic.” Tristyn enunciated the word for her. “And it’s your uncle Josh’s way of trying to be funny, but he’s not.”

“S’ghetti,” Hanna said again.

“You had pasta for lunch,” Josh reminded her.

“Not s’ghetti,” she argued.

“What’s your vote, Tristyn?”

A peek at her watch made her grimace. “Actually, I—” she glanced at the girls’ hopeful expressions “—I think going out to eat would allow everyone to choose what they wanted.”

“And it would give my kitchen a reprieve,” he agreed.

“I just need to make a quick call first,” Tristyn said.

He offered his new phone.

“I’ve got my own,” she reminded him, tapping the screen as she stepped away.

“Can we go eat now?” Emily implored. “I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” Charlotte said.

“As soon as Tristyn’s finished with her phone call, we’ll go.” He didn’t pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping on her call, and though he heard only bits and pieces of one side of the conversation, it was enough pieces to put together and figure out she was canceling plans for dinner with someone else.

“You had a date,” he said, when she’d disconnected the call.

She nodded.

“You didn’t have to cancel,” he told her, though he was secretly pleased that she’d done so. And grateful that she would be sticking around to help him out with the girls for a little while longer.

“Well, my car’s still at your place, and by the time we drove back there and then I drove home to change, I would have been late, anyway.”

“I’m sure your date wouldn’t mind waiting...especially if you promised to make it up to him later.”

“So what’s the plan for dinner?” she asked, deliberately ignoring his comment.

The question was answered with renewed calls for “pizza,” “chicken fingers” and “s’ghetti.”

“All of those are on the menu at Valentino’s,” Tristyn pointed out.

“But what do you want to eat?” he asked her, as he led the girls back to his truck.

“Are you buying?”

“It seems the least I can do to thank you for your help today,” he told her.

“Then I want steak,” she decided. “A nice thick juicy steak.”

He buckled Hanna into her booster seat, then stepped back so that Emily could climb into hers while Tristyn opened the door on the other side for Charlotte. “From Valentino’s?”

“No, from The Grille. So I’ll have the seven-layer lasagna tonight and take an IOU for the steak.”

He lifted a brow. “You’re trying to wrangle a date, aren’t you?”

“Ha!”

“Is that where you were supposed to go for dinner tonight?” he asked, settling behind the wheel and securing his own seat belt.

“I’m not discussing my plans with you,” she told him.

“Who was your date with?”

“Refer to previous answer.”

He should let it go. It really was none of his business, but he was curious. “Was it a first date?”

“Refer to previous answer,” she said again.

“Because I haven’t heard you mention that you were dating anyone.”

“Should I add my social engagements to the itinerary of GSR’s monthly meetings?”

“That would be helpful,” he agreed.

“Well, it’s not happening,” she told him.

Her response didn’t surprise him. What surprised him was how much he sincerely wanted answers to his questions. But for now, he decided to be satisfied with the knowledge that she’d canceled her date to have dinner with him.

* * *

The waitress introduced herself as Sydney, recited the daily specials as she handed out menus and filled their water glasses, then left them alone to peruse the offerings.

Valentino’s didn’t specifically have a children’s menu, but they did offer child-sized portions of any of their entrées.

Charlotte frowned as she scanned the options. “There’s no chicken fingers on the menu.”

“The cook will make them,” Tristyn assured her.

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s made them for my niece before.”

“I want pizza,” Emily reminded them all.

Tristyn pointed to the section of the menu that listed the various options and toppings, but Emily wanted only cheese.

“Pep-ro-ni,” Hanna said.

“You said you wanted spaghetti,” Josh reminded her.

His youngest niece shook her head. “P’za.”

“Pizza with pepperoni?” he asked, seeking clarification.

She nodded, and then said, “I has to go potty.”

“You just went when we were at the store,” he reminded her.

“I has to go agin,” she insisted.

He looked at Tristyn, who sighed. “This is the real reason you offered to buy me dinner, isn’t it? So that you could escape bathroom duty.”

“Well, I can’t take her into the men’s room, and there’s no way I’m walking into the women’s,” he pointed out.

“I hafta go, too,” Emily said.

“Charlotte?” Tristyn prompted.

She shook her head.

“Why don’t you come, anyway, to wash up before dinner?” Tristyn suggested.

So she herded the three girls off to the ladies’ room, leaving Josh alone at a table for five. Thankfully, he knew what everyone wanted, so when Sydney passed by the table again, he was able to place their order.

Charlotte and Hanna returned first, and Josh was settling his youngest niece into the booster seat again when Tristyn’s sister Jordyn came over. Jordyn was married to Marco Palermo, whose grandparents had started serving pasta in the original downtown location of Valentino’s almost fifty years earlier. Recently, Marco had spearheaded the expansion of their business with Valentino’s II. He and his wife had also recently expanded their family with the addition of twin boys, who were now about nine months old.

“Gemma told me that Josh Slater had come in with four gorgeous females, which I thought was a little excessive—even for you.” Jordyn winked at him before turning her focus to the girls.

“These are my nieces Charlotte and Hanna,” he told her. “Emily must still be in the bathroom.”

“She stuck her hands up under the faucet and sprayed water all over her shirt,” Charlotte explained. “Tristyn’s drying it off under the hand dryer.”

Jordyn’s brows lifted as she turned back to Josh. “My sister Tristyn?”

“She’s the only Tristyn I know,” he acknowledged.

“She was supposed to have a date with Rafe tonight.” Then she shook her head. “Apparently her plans changed.”

“That might be my fault,” he acknowledged. “She saw that I was overwhelmed by the prospect of cooking another meal for three fussy kids and obviously took pity on me.”

“We’re not fussy,” Charlotte interjected. “We just like what we like and don’t like what we don’t.”

“Which is exactly what their mother used to say when she refused to eat what was put on the table,” he acknowledged.

“How long have you been staying with Uncle Josh?” Jordyn asked Charlotte.

“We got here yesterday, and we’re supposed to stay for the whole summer,” she said, her glum tone clearly indicating her displeasure.

Josh wasn’t overjoyed, either, but he couldn’t see a way out of the situation for any of them. “My sister’s in Spain on business for the next eight to ten weeks.”

“The whole summer with Uncle Josh,” Jordyn mused. “That should be...interesting.”

“For all of us, I’m sure,” he remarked drily.

But Charlotte was shaking her head. “He doesn’t have any cool stuff and I had to sleep with Emily.”

“In my bed,” he pointed out. “While I slept on the sofa.”

Jordyn chuckled softly. “Oh, yes, it will be an interesting summer.”

“How are Henry and Liam?” he asked.

“If I had my phone handy, I’d bore you with a thousand pictures,” she said, her deep green eyes—so similar to her sister’s—suddenly going soft and dreamy. “They are the lights of my life.”

“Along with your darling and devoted husband,” Marco said from behind her.

Jordyn grinned as she glanced over her shoulder. “Along with my darling and devoted husband,” she dutifully intoned.

The aforementioned spouse slid an arm across her shoulders. “You said you wanted to have a quick word with Gemma while I went to the kitchen to grab a tray of lasagna for the potluck tomorrow, and when I came out of the kitchen, you were gone.”

“Gemma told me that Josh was here, so I came over to say hi. And now I’ve met his nieces Charlotte and Hanna—and this must be Emily,” she said, as his third niece and Tristyn made their way back to the table.

“And now we really have to go,” Marco urged. “We’ve already been away longer than we planned and your mom has a ton of things to do before the picnic tomorrow, none of which she is getting done with Henry and Liam underfoot.”

“You’re right, we have to go,” she agreed. But she gave her sister a quick hug before she turned to Josh again. “Are you taking the girls to the parade tomorrow?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” he admitted. But if he had, he would have answered with a resounding no. He’d barely been able to keep track of them in an electronics store; he didn’t want to imagine the nightmare of trying to keep them together in the midst of the crowds that gathered to celebrate the Fourth of July.

“What parade?” Charlotte asked.

“The Independence Parade is part of Charisma’s ‘Food, Fun & Fireworks’ celebration,” Jordyn explained.

“I wanna see the fireworks,” Charlotte told Josh.

“I wanna see the fun,” Emily chimed in.

“I wanna see some food,” Tristyn interjected. “Tonight. I’m starving.”

“I starvin’, too,” Hanna said, clearly not wanting to be left out of the conversation.

“And Sydney’s on her way with your food right now,” Marco said, gently nudging his wife away from the table.

“See you at the park tomorrow,” Jordyn called back over her shoulder, though Josh wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or—more likely—her sister.

* * *

Charlotte polished off her chicken fingers and ate most of the fries on her plate; Emily ate two slices of the individual cheese pizza she’d wanted; and Hanna ate one slice of her pepperoni pizza—but only after picking off all the pepperoni—and half of Tristyn’s garlic bread. Josh offered her some of the spaghetti that came with his chicken parmesan, which was what she’d originally wanted, but she wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

He was waiting for the check when Tristyn noticed that Hanna had fallen asleep at the table.

“Because she didn’t have her nap at two o’clock,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly. “And now she’s going to be awake until midnight.”

“How was I supposed to know that she should have a nap at two o’clock?” he wondered.

“It’s in the book,” his eldest niece informed him.

“And when did I have time to read the book?” he asked.

Charlotte just shrugged.

“The book?” Tristyn said.

“Is actually a binder,” he told her. “Filled with about four hundred pages of instructions from my sister on what her daughters like and don’t like, dosages for medications, if required, and apparently nap times.”

“Only Hanna has a nap,” Charlotte said. “Emily and me are too big for naps.”

He looked at his youngest niece, her head flopped back against the chair. “What do you think the odds are of me getting her home and into bed without waking her up?” he asked Tristyn.

“Not anything that I’d wager on,” she told him.

But when they got back to his condo, she guided Charlotte and Emily into the elevator while he carried Hanna. He laid her carefully on the narrow cot his sister had brought along with all their other paraphernalia, then helped Tristyn supervise while Emily and Charlotte had their baths and got ready for bed. By the time their teeth were brushed, it was almost eight o’clock—and he was ready for bed, too.

And then, as soon as the other girls were tucked in, Hanna woke up, and he got to go through the whole routine again with her. But being ready for bed didn’t mean that she was ready to sleep. In fact, she seemed completely revived after her “nap” and ready to play.

“I’m thinking Charlotte was right,” Tristyn told him. “She’s going to be awake now until midnight.”

“Lucky me.” He sighed. “And the other two will probably be awake at the crack of dawn, like they were this morning.”

“You should take them to the parade tomorrow,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because I think they’ll enjoy it, and you know the whole Garrett clan will be at the park to help you keep an eye on them afterward.”

“I almost forgot tomorrow was the Fourth of July,” he admitted.

“It follows the third every year,” she pointed out.

He laughed softly. “That’s assuming I knew today was the third. I’m not even sure what day of the week it is.”

“Monday,” she said, heading toward the door.

“Thanks for all of your help,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“I hope canceling your date tonight wasn’t a problem.”

She shook her head. “I’ll see him tomorrow.”

That revelation surprised him. “You guys must be pretty serious if you’re introducing Rafe to your family,” he commented.

“He’s already met my family,” she said, then she frowned. “Wait a minute—I never told you his name.”

“Your sister mentioned it.”

“What else did she mention?”

He shrugged. “She didn’t tell me how long you’ve been dating him...or if you’re sleeping with him.”

Tristyn rolled her eyes. “You really don’t understand the concept of boundaries, do you?”

“I’m guessing that’s a ‘no,’” Josh continued. “If your relationship was at that stage, you wouldn’t have bailed on him tonight.”

She frowned. “What kind of logic is that?”

“The undisputable kind. Because if you were sleeping with him—and he was able to satisfy you in the bedroom—you wouldn’t have let anything interfere with your plans to be with him,” he said.

“Of course, the other possibility is that you are sleeping with him but he’s lousy in bed.” Then he shook his head. “But no, I can’t imagine you would still be with a man who wasn’t able to meet your needs.”

“You do realize this whole conversation could be categorized as sexual harassment,” she noted.

“Are you feeling harassed?”

No, she was feeling...aroused, she realized uneasily.

Which, she was certain, had absolutely nothing to do with Josh but was simply a result of the topic of their conversation—and the fact that she hadn’t had sex in almost two years. A sexual hiatus that she’d considered ending tonight.

She wondered what it said about her relationship with Rafe that she hadn’t hesitated to break their plans—that she had, perhaps, even been a little relieved to have an excuse not to take that next step right now. She liked Rafe—she really did. He was handsome and sweet and kind, and she always had a good time with him. But for some inexplicable reason, she wasn’t eager to get naked with him.

Or maybe the reason wasn’t inexplicable at all.

Maybe the reason was standing right in front of her.

She pushed that unwarranted and unwelcome thought to the back of her mind. “I’m going home now,” she told Josh.

“And if you were sleeping with him,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, “you’d probably be stopping by his place on your way home to—”

“Good night, Josh.” And with those final words, she opened the door and made her escape.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy to escape her own thoughts and feelings. Because the truth was, simply being in the same room with Josh stirred her up far more than being in Rafe’s arms ever did.

Chapter Four

The Independence Parade was always the opening event of Charisma’s Fourth of July celebration. Although Josh enjoyed the festivities at Arbor Park, where the processional ended, he didn’t usually seek out a spot on the parade route to watch the various groups and floats go by. Of course, he didn’t usually have three little girls with him, but as soon as Jordyn had mentioned the parade and fireworks at the restaurant the night before, his nieces had been clamoring to attend. On the plus side, because they were in a hurry to get out of the house, they didn’t grumble too much about having sandwiches for lunch.

Shortly before one o’clock, Josh was piling the girls into his truck again because he knew that all the best viewing spots would be gone at least an hour before the parade started. It was a beautiful, clear day, which meant that the sun was in full force. Thankfully, Charlotte had reminded him about the bottle of sunscreen that her mom had packed, and he’d rubbed them all down before they left his condo and brought the bottle along to reapply as necessary. They were all wearing hats, too, but he still worried that they were likely to bake in the North Carolina sunshine.

There were some trees along the parade route, but those coveted spots were all occupied by the time he’d parked and herded the girls toward the end of the route, where they would be closer to the park for the other festivities when the processional ended. He hadn’t gone too far before he found Tristyn’s other sister, Lauryn, with her husband, Ryder, and their kids, Kylie and Zachary. Lauryn and Ryder rearranged their grouping to make room for Josh and his nieces to join them. Charlotte and Emily sat on the curb with Kylie, while Zach and Hanna perched on top of the chest cooler behind them.

He saw the speculation in Lauryn’s gaze as she looked at the three girls, so before she could ask, he turned to Ryder and questioned him about the restoration he’d recently completed in Watkinsville, Georgia. That topic kept the conversation going for a while, then Ryder said, “But we’ve got an even bigger project under construction right now.”

“What’s that?” he asked, at the same time Lauryn rolled her eyes at her husband.

“We were going to wait awhile before we told the whole world,” she reminded him.

“Josh isn’t the whole world—he’s practically a Garrett,” Ryder argued. “And since we’ve told the rest of the family—” he turned back to Josh “—he should know that we’re going to have another baby.”

“Congratulations,” Josh said, offering his hand to the handyman.

Though technically the baby that Lauryn was expecting would be her first with Ryder, her new husband had formally adopted the children from her previous marriage on the same day he’d married her, so that they officially became a family.

Josh couldn’t resist teasing Lauryn, asking, “One baby or two?”

“One,” she said quickly, firmly. “I have them one at a time. Jordyn’s the overachiever—and the twin gene came from Marco’s family.”

“One at a time works for me,” Ryder said. “Because making them is half the fun.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how much fun you think it is when you don’t get to sleep through the night for the first three months,” his wife quipped.

He snaked an arm around her waist and drew her close to his side. “You won’t be doing it on your own this time,” he told her.

She looked up at him, her expression filled with love and gratitude. “I know,” she admitted. “But I still think your plan to fill our house with six kids is a little over the top.”

“Six?” Josh echoed, stunned. Because six was twice as many as he was responsible for now, and after three days, he was beginning to doubt whether he would make it through the summer with his sanity intact.

“I think he just wants an excuse to build a really big house,” Lauryn confided.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about an extension—” Ryder stopped abruptly when his wife held up a hand.

“I think I hear something,” she said.

“Is it starting?” Kylie asked.

“I think it might be,” her mom said.

Josh could hear it now, too—the drums and pipes that indicated the approach of a band from somewhere in the distance.

“I can’t see,” Hanna said.

“There’s nothing to see right now,” he told her.

But as the parade drew nearer, so did the crowd, edging ever closer to the curb. As a result, the little ones had trouble seeing past the bigger bodies, so Ryder lifted Zachary onto his shoulders and Josh did the same—a little uneasily—with Hanna.

The firm grip his youngest niece had on his hair suggested that she was as uneasy as he was—at least in the beginning. But she giggled when the fire department squirted the hot crowd with a hose and clapped when the majorettes paused in front of them to twirl and spin.

After the parade, he thanked Lauryn and Ryder for sharing their curb space, then directed the girls toward the park—where they spent almost an hour in line to have their faces painted before they went to get ice cream. As they made their way toward a cluster of picnic tables, his gaze avidly searched the crowd for a familiar face. He saw plenty of people he knew, but not the one person he most wanted to see.

They succeeded in snagging a picnic table in the shade—a minor miracle—and Charlotte and Emily mostly managed to finish their snacks before they melted. Hanna wasn’t nearly as successful, and by the time she’d given up on the soggy remnants of her cone, she was covered nose to chin with chocolate ice cream.

“Apparently you’ve got a lot to learn,” Tristyn teased as she set her cousin Andrew’s youngest daughter, Lilly, onto the bench with her ice-cream cone and offered Josh a container of wet wipes.

He hadn’t seen her approach, but his initial jolt of surprise was quickly supplanted by pleasure. And the pleasure grew as his gaze skimmed over her, from the ponytail on top of her head to the skimpy tank top that molded to her curves and short shorts that highlighted her mile-long legs.

“The first rule of child care,” she continued, “is never go anywhere without wet wipes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he promised, gratefully removing a disposable cloth from the container and clumsily attempting to remove the sticky residue from his niece’s face and hands. He glanced up at Tristyn. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

He was hoping she would object to the label, but she only said, “He’s helping set up the tables.”

Then, in a not-so-subtle attempt to change the topic of conversation, she turned her attention to his nieces to ask, “Did you guys see the parade?”

They responded enthusiastically and in great detail, their words spilling over one another so that he wondered how Tristyn could understand anything they were saying. As he continued to clean up Hanna, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Emily had stood up on the bench and was wiggling around.

“What are you doing?” he asked, horror dawning along with comprehension.

“I got ice cream on my shorts,” she told him, attempting to push the offending garment over her hips.

“Well, you can’t just take them off,” he admonished.

“But they’re sticky.”

The glint of amusement in Tristyn’s deep green eyes had him fighting to contain his own smile.

“Let’s see if I can help you get rid of the sticky,” Tristyn offered, taking a wipe from the container and scrubbing at the drip on Emily’s shorts.

Josh appreciated her help. He’d quickly discovered that taking care of three little girls was a lot more work than he’d anticipated—and gave him a whole new respect for his sister. He’d also realized that sharing the responsibility with someone else—with Tristyn—made it not just easier but more enjoyable. He continued to wipe ice cream from Hanna’s hands and face while Tristyn cleaned Emily’s shorts and Lilly sat quietly eating her ice cream.

“There you go,” Tristyn told Emily.

The little girl frowned at the wet spot.

“They’ll dry in just a few minutes,” Josh promised, anticipating her complaint. “Probably less in this heat.”

“Look, Unca Josh,” Hanna implored. “Bawoons!”

He turned to follow the direction her finger was pointing and saw a couple of clowns making balloon animals for the kids who had gathered around.

With a sigh of resignation, he returned the container of wipes to Tristyn. “When are the fireworks?” he asked wearily.

She laughed softly. “Not for hours and hours yet.”

“Do you want to come with us to get balloon animals?”

“Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “But I promised Rachel I would bring Lilly right back after she had her ice cream.”

“I guess I’ll see you later then,” he said, letting Hanna tug him away from the bench.

“No doubt,” she agreed.

After the girls each had a balloon animal in hand, Josh steered them toward the Garretts’ usual picnic spot.

His best friend’s family had expanded over the past several years, as Daniel and his brothers and cousins all got married and started families of their own. Now there were kids ranging in age from nine months to twelve years, and his nieces were immediately accepted into the fold.

Although Charlotte was a few years younger than Maura and Dylan, they were letting her hang out with them; Emily was playing on a nearby climbing structure with Kylie and Oliver; and Hanna had apparently become new best friends with Jacob and Zachary. The family wasn’t finished expanding yet, either. Ryan’s wife, Harper, was about six weeks away from her due date and, as he’d learned a few hours earlier, Tristyn’s sister Lauryn was scheduled to add to her family around Christmas.

In fact, looking around at the various couples and groups, he realized that Tristyn was the only one of Daniel’s cousins who wasn’t yet married—and he wondered if the guy she was with planned to change that.

Marco had introduced Josh to Rafe when he arrived, which was how he’d learned that Tristyn’s date was also Marco’s cousin and the head chef at Valentino’s II.

“So you’re the reason that Tristyn canceled our plans last night,” Rafe commented, as he shook Josh’s hand.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, as Marco moved away to help his wife set up a portable play yard for their boys.

“No need to be,” the other man assured him. “She explained the situation, and I know she’d never walk away from a friend in need of help.”

Though Josh couldn’t deny the accuracy of the description, it still grated on his nerves that Rafe was so dismissive of the time Tristyn had spent with him. It was as if the guy was so secure in his relationship with her, he had no worries about his girlfriend hanging out with another man. Admittedly, she’d been hanging out with another man and three kids, but still.

“There you are,” Tristyn said, a smile lighting her face as she made her way toward them. And for just a second, Josh thought she was talking to him. Then she linked her arm through Rafe’s, effectively dispelling that notion. “Your nonna’s looking for you.”

“And I’m hiding from her,” Rafe admitted. “It’s my day off and I don’t want to talk about tweaking any of my recipes or any other restaurant business today.”

“Then let’s take a walk before dinner,” she suggested, leading him away. “I saw your aunt brought cannoli, which means that I need to get a head start on burning off the extra calories.”

Not wanting to watch them wander off together, Josh purposely turned in the other direction.

* * *

Josh spent some time hanging out with Daniel and Kenna and their kids; chatted with Harper about her return to WNCC—the local television station for which she now produced the morning show—and her plans for juggling her promotion with a new baby; and congratulated Braden and Cassie on their recent engagement. All the while, he kept a close eye on his three nieces, who were more than happy with their new friends. When the food was finally set out—the selection covering most of two picnic tables—everyone dropped what they were doing to get in line. Since Josh hadn’t brought anything to contribute to the potluck, he bought a couple platters of burgers and sausages from the Fireman’s Picnic—another Fourth of July tradition, which brought together the local ladder companies to cook up various offerings, with the proceeds going to support the children’s wing of Mercy Hospital.

“I haven’t seen you eat anything,” Jane Garrett said, handing him a plate piled high with a double-decker cheeseburger, potato wedges, pasta salad and baked beans.

“I wasn’t going to go hungry,” he assured her. “I just wanted to make sure the girls were taken care of first.”

“Tristyn helped the little one with her plate, but the other two managed to take care of themselves.”

“The little one’s Hanna,” he said. “Emily is playing with Kylie, and Charlotte is with Maura and Dylan.”

Jane smiled. “They’re beautiful girls.”

“Those Slater genes always come out on top,” he teased.

“And still, you don’t have any of your own running around here.”

“And still, I somehow ended up responsible for three kids,” he noted wryly.

“Your sister obviously trusted you to take care of her daughters.”

“My sister obviously had no other options,” he countered.

His friend’s mother shook her head. “Don’t go selling yourself short.”

He chuckled. “No one’s ever accused me of doing that before.”

“I’ve known you a lot of years,” she reminded him. “And I’ve admittedly known you to coast if you thought you could get away with it. High school English class, for example, when you decided to watch a movie rather than read the book it was based on in order to write a report.”

Josh took a bite of the burger, so that he’d be too busy chewing to be able to respond to her allegation.

“I’ve also known you to show an incredible amount of focus and determination when something matters to you,” she continued. “The success of GSR in such a short period of time is proof of that.”

He swallowed. “Thank you,” he said cautiously.

“Now I’m wondering when you’re going to show that same level of commitment in a personal relationship.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he assured her. “I’m perfectly happy with my life just the way it is.”

“I do need to worry about you,” she countered. “My other boys are all married now and have wives to take care of them. You’re the only holdout.”

He smiled. “You do realize I’m not actually your fourth son?”

“Of course I do. And lucky for you that you’re not, or the thoughts you have when you look at my youngest niece would be highly inappropriate.”

He nearly choked on a potato wedge. He coughed, cleared his throat. “You think you can read my mind now?”

“I don’t need to be a mind reader to recognize lust in a man’s eye,” she told him.

“Jesu—Jeez,” he hastily amended. “I don’t—I mean—” He blew out a breath. “Okay, this is incredibly awkward.”

Jane just chuckled. “I’ve watched you watch her for years,” she admitted. “And I’ve been wondering when you’re going to stop watching and actually do something to get the girl.”

“I’m not,” he told her. Reminded himself.

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because Tristyn’s a keeper,” he answered honestly. “And I’m not the kind of guy who’s looking to keep a woman.”

She smiled knowingly. “It’s been my experience that most guys think they’re not that kind of guy—until the right woman comes along.”

* * *

Tristyn was pleased to see that Josh had brought his nieces to the Fourth of July celebration. She wasn’t pleased to realize how often her attention wandered in their direction throughout the afternoon. She told herself that she was just making sure the girls were having a good time, because she could imagine how difficult it was for them to be away from everything and everyone that was familiar for the summer. But after some initial hesitation, they appeared to have found their niche with the other kids. And the truth was, she spent a lot of time watching Josh watch the girls.

“Has your friend figured out what he’s going to do with his nieces for the summer?” Rafe asked, proving that he was aware of the focus of her attention.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “But they were only dropped on his doorstep a few days ago.”

“You mentioned that when you called last night.”

She tipped her head back to look at him. “I’m really sorry I bailed on you at the last minute.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “If I had three kids dumped on me, I’d be grateful for an extra set of hands.”

“If you had three kids dumped on you, your mother and nonna would both be there in a heartbeat. Josh’s family is...scattered. His other sister is in London, his parents are in France—or maybe Germany. His grandparents are local, but I don’t know that they’d be able to keep up with three kids.”

“Then he’s lucky he has you,” Rafe said.

Though his tone was casual, his word choice seemed deliberately odd to her. “He doesn’t have me,” Tristyn replied.

“Are you sure about that?” he probed.

She felt her cheeks flush. “Of course I’m sure.”

“Because while you’re doing a pretty good job of pretending that you’re not looking at him, he’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s watching you,” Rafe said.

“Josh is Daniel’s best friend and business partner, which means he’s like another cousin to me—as if I didn’t already have enough,” she said lightly.

“One of the things I’ve always liked about you is that you’re forthright and honest,” he told her. “So I’m going to assume that you’re not being deliberately deceitful now but are in denial of his feelings and your own.”

She frowned, not finding either of those options particularly appealing.

He took both her hands. “When I first met you, at Marco and Jordyn’s wedding, you completely took my breath away. After I spent some time with you, I was pleased to discover that a woman so incredibly beautiful could also be warm and witty and fun. And while it’s been frustrating—for both of us, I think—to try to mesh our schedules to spend time together, I always suspected that wasn’t the only obstacle between us.”

“Rafe,” she began, not sure what else she planned to say, just certain that she didn’t like the direction she could see this conversation headed.

But he didn’t seem to expect her to say anything else. He only dipped his head to kiss her. On the forehead.

“I have to go to the restaurant to do the prep for tomorrow,” he said.

“I thought you’d decided to stay for the fireworks and save the prep for the morning,” she reminded him.

“I think I’d rather get it done tonight,” he decided.

Tristyn watched him walk away, feeling guilty and remorseful—and maybe just a little bit relieved.

* * *

The girls were tuckered out long before dark, but they didn’t want to leave before the fireworks. So Josh, with Hanna snuggled in his lap, settled in where he could keep an eye on Charlotte and Emily, who were sprawled on the blankets spread out on the grass for the remaining children. Several of the couples with little ones had gone: Jordyn and Marco had taken Henry and Liam home after dinner; Daniel and Kenna had followed a short while later with Jacob and Logan; and Braden and Cassie had slipped away with Saige soon after that.

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