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“Don’t fucking start with her. You will lose.”

He heads toward the door but pauses at the threshold. “Wes?”

“Yeah?”

He smirks again. Smug bastard. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?”

“That you’re hot for the nanny.”

I flip him off over Rosie’s head. “Get out of my house, Julian.”

His laughter echoes as the door closes behind him. I shake my head, letting out a heavy breath. Rosie nestles closer, yawning against my shoulder.

“Your Uncle Julian’s a pain in the ass, kid,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her soft hair.

She sighs, already drifting off.

Twenty-Three

Lena

The morning air is crisp, the last traces of winter fading into early spring as I drive toward Wes’s house. I’ve got my coffee, Rosie’s favorite breakfast snacks in my bag, and the vague hope that today will be one of the easy mornings.

What I donothave time for is stray animals.

But then I see him.

It’s a tiny, scrappy-looking puppy on the side of the road, sniffing around near a cluster of trees.

Just keep driving, Lena. Drive, drive, drive.

I can’t.

Throwing my head back againstthe headrest with a groan, I slow the car. He looks thin, his fur is a mix of matted brown and white, his ribs just a little too visible beneath his fluff. When I roll down my window, he lifts his head, and I swear to God, the moment our eyes meet, I’m done for.

I pull over with a sigh. “Oh, buddy. What’s your story?”

The puppy tentatively wags his tail. When I get out and crouch down, he sniffs my hand, then immediately climbs into my lap.

No collar.

I can’t just leave him here.

My entire life, I’ve been drawn to stray things. The lost, the forgotten, the ones that just need someone to give a damn.

So, yeah. This is happening.

I scoop him up and tuck him into my oversized tote bag, where he promptly curls up like he belongs there.

This is fine. Totally fine. I’ll just run by the vet later and see if he’s microchipped. Someone could be looking for him.

Feeling very responsible and not at all impulsive, I slide back into the car and ignore the little voice in my head that screams,You’re going to get attached.

∞∞∞

By the time I pull into Wes’s driveway, I’m praying this will be like any other morning. Smooth handoff. Minimal eye contact. Just a quick “hi,” “bye,” and “have a good day.”