“If you’re on your own with her all day, you might need that,” I said.

“You’re probably right.” He stood from his seat and walked toward me. Slowly, the clean, fresh scent of him took over my senses, and I held my breath to keep from getting dragged into the storm of wanting him. When he was only inches from me, I stiffened.

“Sorry, I just wanna get to the coffeepot,” he murmured.

I glanced beside me to see the pot and let out a little sigh of relief mixed with regret. “Oh, right.”

“Look, I know I’ve already said it, but thank you so much for taking care of Dylan’s room like that. I really appreciate it. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

His gaze trailed over me, and I felt that all-too-familiar heat creeping up the back of my neck, ready to flood my cheeks.

“No problem at all, really. Well, I better be off.”

I kissed Dylan good-bye and waved to Max, then scooped up my bag and rushed to my car.

When I was safe behind the wheel and on my way, I cranked up the radio and rolled down the windows, letting the warm early September air fill my lungs. Without Max around, I finally felt like I could breathe. Use this time to be myself without the eggshells and worries. Some time to reflect.

For the better part of the drive, though, all I could manage to do was reflect on him.

What was his deal? I knew that he was fond of his mother, had done well in school, had been friends with the same group of people for most of his adult life, but the one thing he never mentioned? Women.

Aside from Dylan’s mother, there was no hint that he’d ever been with someone, and yet . . . A man like that had to get around, didn’t he? Between his rich, dark hair and his deep, dark eyes, women probably threw themselves at him pretty regularly. Did he go along for the ride, or was he a relationship guy?

I didn’t know. All I knew was this Max, the one who was new to fatherhood. When things settled down and he’d accepted his role in Dylan’s life, would he get back to dating again? And, worse, would he parade these women around the house, right in front of me? Or maybe he would take them to hotels or stay over at their house for the weekend. I’d have to make excuses for him to Dylan, knowing all the while where he was and what—or who—he was doing.

I gripped the wheel tighter, hating the knot that was tying up my stomach.

My interest in Max’s dating life was all professional, of course. His relationships with women were sure to affect Dylan in the long term.

Nice try, loser. Plenty of single parents date.

Besides, if it was all about Dylan, then why did I feel murderous when I thought about him taking another woman into his arms, or worse, his bed?

I agonized over that very thought until I reached the parking lot of the salon where I was scheduled to meet Lara. When I pushed open the doors, a little chime tinkled, and I found her sitting in the waiting area, looking up at me.

“I hate this hour-drive thing,” she said with a scowl. “I like you close.”

I waved my hand. “Hello to you too.”

“Well, obviously hello.” She hugged me swiftly, then motioned to one of the girls behind the counter to let them know we were ready. They led us back to a room with a tiny waterfall and a row of chairs with deep, jetted basins for our feet.

“I signed us up for mani-pedis,” she explained. “Hope that’s okay.”

“Perfect.” I relaxed into my chair and let out a deep breath.

“Long week?” she asked.

“You know how it is starting a new job.”

“And being constantly surrounded by Mr. Hot Bod? Can’t say that I do,” Lara said, and the woman working on her heel looked over at me.

I smiled at her, then turned back to Lara with gritted teeth. “Please, for the love of God, don’t call him that.”

“Fine, fine, call him what you want. How is it going with him?”

“With my boss? He’s fine. Happy with my performance.”

Lara waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, is he now?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose between two fingers. “Do we have to go over this every time we talk?” I’d just spent the whole ride over remembering all the reasons I had to stop thinking about Max, and now Lara seemed determined to drag me back to ground zero again.

“I’ve just been thinking. You know, it might be fun.”

“What?” I asked.

“Getting down and dirty with Mr. Boss Man.”

“He has a name,” I shot back.

“Max, then. Do you think he might be interested?” Lara asked.

She knew me too well for me to hide my blush, so I looked away. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

“So he is interested,” she squawked, clapping her hands together gleefully. “Juicy. Do tell.”

“There is . . . a sort of mutual attraction. But I told you before, I’m done with guys for now. The last time I got involved, I wound up homeless. I live with this guy too, remember, and I’m sure you don’t want me sleeping on your couch again.”

“It depends. How many pints of ice cream are you going to buy me?” she asked. “I kind of loved having all those flavors in the freezer at any given time.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Lara.”

She held up her hands. “Fine, fine, you’re probably right. Look, but don’t touch.”

“Exactly.” I nodded.

I should get that tattooed on me, just as a constant reminder.

As the day progressed, though, as much fun as I was having catching up with my bestie, I couldn’t help but wonder how Dylan was. If she missed me. If her daddy missed me.

But it was exactly that—the thoughts of Dylan and how much I missed her grinning face—that had me feeling more sure than ever.

Most relationships didn’t work out. That was straight statistics. Which meant that even if Max and I dated, we’d likely fail, and then what? I’d lose my job, again, my home, again, and worse? I’d lose Dylan.

It was too big of a risk to take, no matter how sexy Max was.

Look, but don’t touch.

My new mantra.

If he could just do the same, we’d be golden.

Chapter Eleven

Max

I rounded my truck and gazed into the bed, wiping a bead of sweat from my face.

“Shit,” I murmured. I’d forgotten Zach’s favorite beer, and given his reputation for being picky, he wasn’t likely to forgive me for it. Quickly, I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted Matt to bring some with him, then loaded the grocery bags and boxes into my arms and made for my front door.

I couldn’t deny that a certain amount of guilt was settling in the pit of my stomach—not that it was my fault. I probably should have told Addison that the guys were coming over for the first football game of the season, but I hadn’t wanted to bother her while she was with her friend yesterday. Then, by the time I saw her this morning, she was so harried with cleaning and caring for Dylan that it completely slipped my mind.

Now, though, I was going to have to give her a heads-up barely five minutes before the guys were due to walk through the door.

When I got to the kitchen, I called for Dylan and Addison, then settled my bags onto the counter and looked around. The house was quiet, and I was on the brink of heading upstairs to look for them when I heard a shrill laugh through the back window.

Turning on my heel, I headed for the back door and opened it to find Dylan sitting in a little two-piece pink bikini with white polka dots, her chubby belly jiggling with peals of laughter as a sprinkler moved back and forth, spraying water over her head.

Standing above her, trying to convince her to toddle over the sprinkler, was Addison. Who, as it happened, was also wearing a bikini.

And it was nearly as small as Dylan’s.

My cock thickened and I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the long, trim length of her legs and the golden skin exposed by her dark blue suit. My eyes must have been bugging out of my head, and I blinked before I heard the front door open behind me.

Shit.

“Hey, where are you?” Matt’s voice echoed through the house as he walked through to the kitchen, swiftly followed by Zach. “I didn’t stop. I just told Zach he was going to have to suck it up and drink real beer for a change.”