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“I don’t hum.”

“You were humming Marvin Gaye. In the shower. With vigor.”

Chuck’s face heated. “He’s a classic.”

“Uh-huh.” Lydia took a sip of her coffee and watched him over the rim. “Well, whatever’s going on with you and your ‘friend,’ be careful. That man’s got a child, a business that’s just hanging on, and in-laws with a grand plan, from what I hear.”

“I know that.” Chuck frowned, tapping his pencil against the table. “I’m not going to mess things up for him.”

“You planning on sticking around this time?”

Chuck had always been the one to jump—jobs, relationships, towns. Even his own family. A lifetime of ugly decisions and stupid exits. Easier that way, to ditch before things got complicated, before he inevitably screwed up and disappointed everyone.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Then I’d suggest you should, before you get any more involved with a single father and his daughter.”

Chuck knew she was right, but something in him rebelled against the warning. “I like him, Aunt Lyd. And Winnie’s a great kid.”

Lydia’s scowl melted. “I know you do. You make sure you’re ready for what that might mean. Candle Bay isn’t Seattle. People talk. They remember. And his little girl doesn’t need another jerk walking out of her life.”

The words stung, but Chuck nodded. “I hear you.”

“Excellent.” Lydia stood, her knees cracking. “Now I’m going to my book club. Erotic romance. Last time someone made a collage, God help me. Try not to burn the house down while I’m gone.”

After she left, Chuck stared at the lumber list again, but his focus had evaporated. Lydia’s question echoed in his mind—did he plan to stick around?

He hadn’t come back to Candle Bay with any intention to stay. It was supposed to be a temporary refuge, a place to lick his wounds and suss out his next move. Seattle had sucked, Jeremy was a jackass, but there were other cities, other opportunities. He could go anywhere.

But now Niall stood before him, with his quiet smile and careful strength. Niall, who got on with it and built a life for his daughter in this sleepy coastal town. Niall, whose lips had been soft and surprised against Chuck’s.

Chuck shook his head to clear it. He was getting ahead of himself. One kiss was nice, but they hardly knew each other.

His phone buzzed with a text from Niall.

Winnie obsessed. Treehouse frenzy over here. Please advise? Then a head-exploding emoji.

Decoration—she should pick colors, styles, plants. All the trimmings. Classic time-waster for crazy clients. Chuck smiled, then typed. Material pickup today. Start tomorrow?

The reply came soon after, starting with two emojis, a thumbs-up and a praying hands. Perfect. Winnie’s at a sleepover tonight if you want to swing by.

Chuck stared at the message, mind tumbling through the NC-17 range of his daydreams. Niall’s place. Tonight. Just the two of them, kid-free.

Please. What time? he wrote back.

Seven? I’ll order Thai.

I’ll bring beer.

Chuck set his phone down, a mix of anticipation and anxiety swirling in his stomach. He knew he should heed Lydia’s warning, should think consciously about what he wanted and what he could offer before he got any more entangled with Niall and Winnie.

But thinking things through had never been his strong suit. And right now, all he could think about was seeing Niall again, alone this time, with no leaky roofs or curious nine-year-olds between them.

Nothing but two men, noodles, and the memory of a kiss that had kept Chuck awake half the night.

NIALL LIVED on the floor over the bookstore. As Chuck approached the residence door, a delivery car pulled away from the curb.

Perfect timing. He shifted the six-pack of local IPA from one hand to the other and rang the doorbell.