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My mom stares at him through the phone. She looks him up and down, taking in the broad shoulders, the dark buzzed hair, and the handsome face currently smiling at her.

"Sumner," she repeats slowly, like she’s testing his name to see how she feels about it. "What's your deal? My daughter just wasted five years on a guy who couldn't keep it in his pants, and she works way too hard to get tangled up with another one who's just going to charm his way into her life and then ditch her when things get hard. I raised her by myself because her sperm donor did exactly that to me. So if you're playing games, you can march right out her front door right now."

"Mom," I hiss, my face burning so hot I can feel it in my ears. "Stop."

"I'm just being realistic," she insists. "I watch enough movies to know the ones who seem too good to be true always are."

Sumner shifts his weight, bracing one large hand flat on the counter next to me. He looks straight into the camera. The easy, polite smile drops off his face, replaced by that intense, unwavering focus that gives me the best kind of shivers.

"I respect the hell out of you for raising her on your own, ma'am," Sumner says. "She's incredible. But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere. I happen to thrive when things get hard.”

Now it’s my turn to choke on a laugh.

My mom blinks, her protective glare faltering into pure confusion. "Why does that sound like you two are serious?” She squints at the screen again and turns her full attention on me. "Goldie? What's he talking about? Did you get married in Vegas or something?"

My pulse skyrockets. I take a deep, shaky breath, freaking out on the inside, and then I blurt it out. "Yeah, so, we'rekindofhavingababy. Okay, byeeeee!"

I pull the phone away to hit the red button, but her voice blasts through the speaker.

"Goldie Guinevere Hahn! You better not hang up this phone or I will be getting on the next flight down there!"

I freeze, my thumb hovering over the screen. I bring the phone slowly back up to my face.

My mom is staring at the camera, stunned. Then, a slow, brilliant smile takes over her face. All the suspicion melts away, leaving pure, unabashed excitement. She’s always been a sucker for babies, and I think it makes her sad she never had more than just me.

"A baby? Oh, my god. I'm going to be a grandma." She presses a hand over her heart, her eyes shining. But then she points a finger directly at the screen, zeroing right back in on Sumner. "You said you're in it for the long haul. I'm holding you to that. If you break her heart, I’ll break both of your legs. And kick you in the balls."

Sumner doesn't even flinch. He just nods. "Understood, ma'am."

"I'm hanging up now," I say, my voice coming out as a strangled squeak.

"You better send me ultrasound pictures!" she yells right before I hit the end call button.

I set my phone face down on the counter and blow out a long breath. The kitchen falls into a heavy silence. My pulse is jackhammering against my throat. I stare straight ahead into the living room, trying to get my shit together.

"So... Guinevere, huh?" Sumner asks, his voice rumbling with quiet amusement right behind me.

I drop my face into my hands. "Oh my god. Kill me now."

He chuckles, a low sound that vibrates down my spine. "It’s cute. Unique."

"She watches way too many movies," I say, aiming for a this doesn’t bother me at all vibe, but it comes out muffled through my fingers. "She speaks in quotes. You have to ignore her."

Sumner stays right where he is. His chest is so close to my back I can feel the heat radiating off him. His hands settle on my shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the tight, knotted muscles at the base of my neck. He lowers his head, his mouth hovering right next to my ear as he starts to massage, kneading the tension right out of my skin.

A soft groan escapes my throat before I can stop it. It feels so good.

"I meant exactly what I said to her," he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low gravel that scrapes right against my nerve endings. "I'm not going anywhere, Goldie."

One of those Sumner Wells-patented shivers works its way down my spine. I drop my hands from my face and turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes are locked on mine, intense and filled with so many things it’s hard to pick out just one.

God, I’m so tired of fighting this thing between us. He keeps showing up—every single time he says he will, and a dozen times I never even asked him to—and I'm just so damn exhausted from pretending I don't want more.

His big hands drag down my arms, leaving a trail of stupid, traitorous goosebumps in their wake, before his fingers lock onto my hips. He spins my stool until I’m facing him and steps right between my knees, boxing me in. The absolute audacity of this man. My brain screams at me to say something sarcastic to ruin the moment, but my body goes totally rogue. I just let out a long, defeated sigh and let my forehead drop forward, thunking right against the solid center of his chest.

Sumner lets out a rough sound, like he's been waiting for this. His arms wrap around my back, gathering me up and pulling me flush against his frame. One large hand cradles the back of my head, his fingers tangling gently in my hair.

I melt. The armor I’ve worn for a decade just… dissolves. I slide my arms around his waist, burying my face in the soft cotton of his shirt, and let him hold me. It feels safe. Warm. A little like home. We stay like that for a long time, the only sound in the kitchen the steady, reassuring thud of his heartbeat against my cheek.