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She pouted a little, but she wasn’t too torn up about him leaving because by the time he got to the entrance and glanced over his shoulder to check, her hand was on Rodriguez’s ass.

With a shake of his head and a smile, he headed outside. The humid, night air hit him, not giving him any relief from the heat that had sunk into his body from the club.

Giving the valet his ticket, he waited for his truck. For a minute, he regretted his decision to introduce Lindsay to Rodriguez. She was beautiful, up for a good time, and wouldn’t have demanded any more than that from him.

Then common sense returned, along with the valet driving his truck and parking it curbside. After tipping the guy and getting in, he let his mind drift to white sands, crystal blue water, and days of relaxation.

However, it kept returning to the people he cared about in Holland Springs—his parents in particular. Over the past few years, he hadn’t spent as much time home as he could have. His life wasn’t tied up in anything but baseball. The couple of long-term girlfriends he had were gone and now at twenty-eight, he was firmly in the I’m-too-old-to-party-but-I’m-not-dead camp.

There had to be a happy medium.

Instead of driving to his townhouse, he found himself on Highway Thirteen heading straight toward Holland Springs. In less than forty minutes, his truck was bumping down the familiar gravel road. As usual, the kitchen light was on.

He grinned.

A sense of ease settled into his bones. Yeah, he would stay here for a while and help his parents. Or just spend some time with them.

Vacations could wait. Besides, he could use a change of pace. Nothing exciting ever happened here. Everything stayed exactly as it should be.

Just the way he liked it.

Chapter Four

‡

H
e should have booked the first flight out of Greenville.

Nothing had changed in Holland Springs, and that included his mother’s matchmaking tendencies. She was bound and determined that every single one of her children should be in a serious relationship.

For the first two days, she had suckered him into accompanying her on errands into town and managed to introduce Heath to what had to be every available woman in Holland Springs under the age of fifty without actually accomplishing a single thing on her to-do list.

Now it was Saturday, and she was jumping at the bit to introduce him to the ladies at the Holland Springs Junior Garden club. The club was holding their monthly meeting at Chesson House.

So far, he hadn’t seen Haven once, but he had been introduced to the mayor’s college roommate’s aunt’s niece who had just moved here from Hendersonville. The woman was as interested in him as she was in the begonias on display. In other words, she’d been cajoled and guilted like he had been.

It was so obvious that it was painful.

Either his mother didn’t have a clue, or she was purposefully ignoring the pained looks. He was betting on the latter.

Leah smiled, taking him by the arm as she began to lead him over to a trio of women. “Have I intro—”

Oh shit.
He couldn’t take another round of
look at my handsome, successful, single son
. “I think Dad’s calling.”

Her forehead furrowed. “I would have felt my phone buzz.”

“He’s calling on my phone.” He pretended to glance at his screen. “Missed his call. I’ll call him back. Might be important.” Before she could stop him, he kissed her cheek and gently extricated himself from her grasp before striding away. He headed to the front of the house, where there was nothing but cars and flowerbeds.

Hopefully, he could sit on the front porch and play Trivia Crack on his phone until his mother was ready to leave without being disturbed.

“Baseball emergency?” he heard Haven say.

So much for being undisturbed.

Stopping in his tracks, he turned and pocketed his phone. She sat in a double swing that hung from a side porch, a tabby cat in her lap. The shadows made her look mysterious. But there was no mistaking her pink hair and ruby-colored lips.

Today, she wore a short-sleeved, bright green sweater with a row of white buttons lined up down the center and hot pink pants that ended just below her knees.

“Actually, I was taking a break.”

She tsked. “I can’t believe you abandoned your poor momma to deal with those ladies.”

He bristled. “I didn’t.”

Haven stroked the cat and for a wild second or two, he wished he were the one in her lap. “Too much estrogen back there for a big, testosteroney guy like you to handle?”

“Testosteroney isn’t a word, brain girl.”

She visibly flinched. “It must be hard to live in a world in which women are allowed to read.”

Keeping a straight face, he said, “Well, since it’s legal and all, maybe
you
can pick one up about manners. I hear Emily Post is popular.”

The cat hissed and jumped off her lap.

Haven narrowed her eyes at him. “Great. You made Gotham angry.”

“Sounds like a job for Batman.”

A light-colored brow arched even as her luscious lips twitched. He knew she wanted to laugh, but her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it. “How long are you staying in Holland Springs?” she asked suddenly.

“Not sure.”

“Is all that matchmaking your momma’s attempting to do driving you crazy?”

She looked halfway sympathetic, so he answered honestly, “Yes, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Her intentions are good.”

Haven’s shrewd gaze seemed to assess him as she stood and walked into the light. The afternoon sun shone on her face, making her skin glow and her eyes sparkle.

“What if I told you that I could get Mrs. Ambrose off your back?”

She told him a lot of things, and most of the time, he had to check for the real meaning. “I can do that myself just by leaving town.”

“But that would hurt her feelings. I know she loves having you here.”

He had to concede the point to her. “I love being here, but I do not like being forced to meet every single woman in Holland Springs. Now she’s bringing in out-of-towners.”

She laughed, the sound making his heart turn over in his chest. He liked the sound of her laugh, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard it. Or at least a laugh that was
with
him and not at him.

“Bless your heart, Heath. If only you could find the right girl to get your momma off your back.” Her hand came around the newel post, fingernails tipped in the same pink color as her pants.

“At this point, I’d do just about anything,” he half-joked.

“I know a girl who could help you out, but you would have to return the favor.”

He had to hear who she had in mind. Taking a step closer to the porch, he tilted his head back slightly. “Who might that be?”

Haven’s gaze dropped away from his. “Me.”

With bated breath, Haven waited for his reply. Either he would laugh off her supposed joke or—

“Are you serious? You don’t even like me.”

“That’s why it would work.”

An incredulous look covered his handsome face. “We can’t go five minutes without fighting.”

“I wouldn’t say that we fight,” she said lightly.

“See, already disagreeing with me.”

“A disagreement is not the same as a fight.”

His lips flattened at her correction. “You have to be in a bad way to ask for my help,” he said, his blue-eyed gaze capturing hers. “What favor do you need?”

“For you to marry me so I can keep Chesson House.”

He didn’t laugh, which was a good thing because she probably would have thrown something at him. But he didn’t say a word either. And that was worse because she had no idea what he was thinking.

Contrary to his opinion of how she viewed him, she actually did think he had a brain. It wasn’t skills only that made him one of the best players on the Buccaneers and in the entire league. Oh, no. Skills weren’t everything. Skills might have gotten him there, but his brain kept him on top.

“Heath?” She had to know what he was thinking; it was the only way she could stay two steps ahead of him. They’d known each other for so long and had danced the same angry dance over the years that she knew how he would react before the words came out of his mouth. However, this was new territory.

“I don’t think that’s funny.”

Letting go of the newel post, she moved to the stairs and jogged down them, then walked right up to him. This close, she was reminded of how big and muscular he actually was. Not overly so, but just enough to get her blood pounding.

“Wasn’t trying to be funny,” she said, tipping up her chin. “I really do need your help.”

“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Arms that were tan and well defined from years of playing ball.

She swallowed down a swoony sigh.

Usually, his nearness didn’t affect her like this. She wasn’t noticing his face, or eyes, or arms. And she most certainly wasn’t noticing the way the sleeves of his button-down shirt were carelessly shoved up his arms in the most enticing of ways.

“I promise I’m not joking. You can talk my lawyer, if you don’t believe me.”

Heath jerked his head toward the back. “Your lawyer is one of the women my mother introduced me to this afternoon.”

Haven felt her eyes go wide. “She’s certainly determined, isn’t she?”

“Yep.”

Taking a chance that her touch would throw him off balance, she carefully placed her hand on his arm, right at the spot where bare skin met cotton. His skin was hot and roughly smooth in that way men’s bodies were.

His muscles rippled, and she fought back a gasp. Successfully.

The corner of his mouth kicked up, like he just knew she’d barely contained herself.

Show off.

She didn’t say those words, but she wanted to. Badly. Only she knew if she did, that he’d tell her no, and spend a day or two more at the most before leaving. Then she wouldn’t have any other option but to sell.

An orange leaf glided down between them, landing partly on her hand and his arm. The wind picked up slightly, stirring the air between them.

It had been the warmest September on record, and the heat wave had carried into October. Usually, her breath would be coming out in white puffs and she’d be in jeans, not capris pants.

“I really do need you—your help,” she began, hoping against hope he believed her. “When my grandparents passed, they left the business in trust until I married. But if I were single by the time someone wanted to buy Chesson house, then I’d have to sell it.”

“Would our marriage be a secret?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She made a face. “No. How else would your momma leave you—?” It hit her then. He didn’t mean a secret from anyone who lived here in Holland Springs. Her heart pinched. “You mean would I tell Bella?

He worried his bottom lip. “Yeah.”

“We could send her an invite, if you want.”

“Up to you.”

You are such a bad, bad liar
, she thought sadly. He wanted Bella to see him moving on with his life. “I’ll invite them, but she probably won’t come since she’s on her honeymoon.”

His jaw hardened. “Bella’s married?”

She nodded. “She and Liam got married a couple of weeks ago—I thought you knew.”

His eyes closed briefly. He put on a smile, but not before she glimpsed the grim pain in his eyes. She didn’t know what to make of that at all.

“It wouldn’t be for long, if that’s a problem. I only need enough time to get the house in my name, and then we can go our separate ways.”

“We’ll get a divorce?”

She shrank back at little, not from him, but from the word. He made it sound so real. “But the two of us can sign a prenup—I don’t want your baseball earnings or anything you own.”

“You don’t want anything from me,” he said.

A shaky sigh left her. “Right.”

“Just my name.”

“Oh, not even that. Just the piece of paper filed with the clerk of—” She swallowed at the dark look on his face.

“Do you realize how emasculating your proposal is? How fucking awful it is to be told that you’re only worth a piece of paper?” He pulled away from her, shaking his head while his jaw worked.

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s…” She looked away and then back at him again, for once allowing him to see the vulnerability she hid from the world. “I don’t want to sell Chesson House, Heath. It’s my home. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I need you to help me. You’re the only guy I can trust to keep his word.”

His dark blue eyes searched her face. She felt raw, exposed, and she wanted to run away from him and hide. Pretend she hadn’t said a word and that there wasn’t an invisible countdown in her head.

“Damn it, Haven. I don’t know what to say.” Uncrossing his arms, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You can’t just spring something like this on me and be so…honest, for once.”

That’s because if you knew the truth of how I’ve always felt, you would mock me.
Or worse. “If you need some time to deliberate, I can wait a day or two, but not much longer than that. The buyer is rather persistent.”

He nodded. “I’ll let know you tomorrow night.”

“Do you want me to call you or—?”

“No, I’ll come by here,” he said.

Haven watched him go to his truck, pulling out his phone along the way. Her stomach roiled, then knotted all up. She pressed her hand against it, wishing she could stop the surge of overwhelming feelings of hope and desperation as they got all tangled up in one another.

“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.” Turning, she went inside, grabbed another moving box, and started packing it.

Chapter Five

‡

I
t was becoming clearer than ever that his mother wasn’t letting up. Everywhere he’d gone today, there had been women casting glances his way and whispering to one another.

While he knew his money and looks were a draw, there was no way in hell that
every
single woman he came across just so happened to be
looking for him all day
. Or had been
dying to talk to him and get all caught up on old times
.