“I’m a single father.” He took a step toward her.

“And you’re doing a damn fine job with him. That’s not the sort of complications I have going on.” There was a war going on inside her. Logic and desire, for once, completely at odds.

Trey reached up and fisted his hand in her hair. She’d left it down, and the weight of it was heavy on her neck.

He tugged on the curls, forcing her head back as he moved in closer. “I’ve got four brothers—one of them is a movie star, the other is a former child star and we can’t get together without the damn paparazzi stalking us.”

He brushed a soft kiss across her cheek and she felt that light caress all through her body.

“My son has nightmares, convinced that I’ll die just like his mother did, and sometimes I wake up, convinced he died in the wreck that killed his mother. The night my wife was buried, I went out, got completely wasted and managed to get in a fight and I don’t remember any of it—the whole night is a black hole, but whatever the hell happened was enough to turn me off alcohol—even the smell of whiskey is enough to make me sick. I know plenty about complications, Ressa.”

She reached up, fisting her hands in his shirt.

“It’s simple . . . either you want to spend time with me . . . or you don’t.”

He made it sound so easy.

“I’m going to ask you again and you just tell me the first thing that comes to mind—after this, I won’t bother anymore.”

Ressa stilled.

He smoothed a hand down her back and then pulled away.

Only a few feet separated them.

It felt like a mile.

“I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?”

Before she could answer, a voice interrupted them.

“Trey!”

At the sound of that voice, Trey closed his eyes. Staring down at the ground, he muttered, “Son of a bitch.”

“Trey? Hello!”

Her answer lodged in her throat, Ressa turned. Next to her, Trey took a deep breath and she had the oddest feeling he was bracing himself.

She slid him one final look and then met the gaze of the woman in front of them.

It was . . . well . . . June Cleaver.

That was all Ressa could think.

She looked like a modern-day version of June Cleaver. Her ebony hair was cut in a short, sleek bob that accentuated a long, elegant neck. Not that her neck needed the extra accent, but there was a strand of pearls that glowed against oh, so, perfect skin. Her cardigan was mossy green and matched her wide eyes. The cardigan that picked up the green in her full-cut skirt . . . a skirt that looked like a watercolor garden. Roses and lilies against a misty background.

Those mossy green eyes looked at Trey and she all but had her heart written in them. If the woman had handed him a letter declaring her love, it wouldn’t have been any less clear.

“Um . . . hello,” she said, her voice soft, breathy before it steadied. “I thought I’d come see you and Clayton. Since it’s his first day and all. Has . . . school already started?”

“Ah, yeah, well, that’s nice of you, Nadine, but yeah, it’s already started. Clay’s in class, ready to go.” Trey gave her a casual smile.

Casual, maybe, but to Ressa, it looked frayed around the edges.

Nadine shot her another look from the corner of her eye. Some part of her wanted to apologize, just for standing there, and she thought maybe she should just excuse herself—

Trey reached out a hand, rested it on her waist, almost as if he’d read her mind.

“I wanted to be with the two of you.” Nadine’s voice was softer now. Almost a whisper. “He’s been so excited, and you’ve been so worried . . .”

If Ressa hadn’t been standing next to her, she wouldn’t have noticed, the way he tensed, so subtly. But nothing showed in his voice, on his face, as he shrugged. “The first day of school is supposed to be a roller coaster ride, but we handled it.”

She nodded again, looking away. “I can see that. I . . . well. I just want to help, to be there for you. As much as I can.” Another one of those glances at Ressa, and this one lingered.

Unable to stay quiet anymore, Ressa gave her a wide, brilliant smile. “Hi.”

Trey’s thumb stroked her back.

Nadine’s throat worked as she swallowed, her gaze darting off to the side.

“You . . . well, you’ve got the whole morning ahead of you now. It’s going to be awfully quiet at home. Why don’t we go have some coffee?”

Ressa felt, as much as heard, Trey’s sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Ressa said, the words popping out. Her tongue was moving and her brain had no idea what was going on. “Trey and I were just getting ready to head out. We already had plans.”

Trey’s hand fisted in the material of her blouse.

“What . . .” Now Nadine’s gaze flew to her. “But . . .”

“Nadine, this is Ressa Bliss.” Trey let go of her blouse, but not of her. He curled his arm around her waist and he moved closer, pressed his mouth to her temple. “A friend of mine.”

Nadine looked back and forth between them. “But . . . I . . .” She blinked and looked away. “We didn’t have any time to talk today.”

“With Clay starting school, the morning routine has to change.” Trey smiled. “It was nice of you to come by, Nadine.”

She nodded and slid another look back at Ressa.

Ressa felt something cold slide through her—those mossy green eyes had gone chilly.

There was something under that June Cleaver mask.

“That woman is working you,” Ressa murmured as she watched the woman climb in her car a few yards away.

“Nah. Nadine’s just . . . lonely. Her husband died a couple of years ago and she’s shy, doesn’t know how to talk to people very well.”

Shy, my ass. “She’s working you.” Ressa slid away, turning to study him. “And you clearly were falling for it. She’s good . . . I think I almost fell for it, too. What’s the deal about your morning routine?”

Scowling, he rubbed at his jaw. “We started having coffee together in the mornings a while back. We just sit on the porch while Clayton eats his breakfast there. It’s not a big deal or anything. It’s not like we’re dating.”

“Maybe not to you. She thinks she’s got a claim on you.”

Trey rolled his eyes and then moved in, cupping her chin. “And is that why you decided you’d have coffee? Or was that just to distract her?”

“No.” She swallowed and hoped like hell she wasn’t making a mistake. “I want to . . . have coffee.”

His thumb swept over her lip. “Just coffee?”

“For now.” Then she eased back. “But I’m not joking. That woman thinks you two have something going, Trey. Why else would she show up here? That’s a mom thing—or a serious girlfriend thing.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. “She probably just didn’t think about it.”

“She did.” Rolling her eyes, Ressa muttered, “Men. Sometimes you’re so blind.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

She ran her tongue across her teeth. “Well, for one . . . if we’re going to have coffee . . . or anything else . . . you need to make sure she knows you’re not interested.”

“Nadine knows that.”

Ressa cocked a brow, and as Trey’s face went red, curiosity flooded her.

“We . . . ah . . . look, we tried a date. Once. It didn’t work out. At all.”

Cocking her head, Ressa asked, “Was this before or after the coffee deal started?”

“Before. Months before.” He frowned. “Why?”

“Because I suspect she thinks you two have had a lot of dates since then that have worked out—every morning you have coffee together. You need to make her back off. Have her give you some space . . . What?”

He sighed. “She makes you feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. I . . . Fuck. Sometimes when Clayton and I head out for breakfast, just the two of us, she gives me this look and it’s like I kicked a puppy right in front of her.”

“I told you—she’s working you. How do you feel when you keep doing whatever it is she wants? Like just now, when you saw her here? What did you feel?”