Tegan’s smile slips. “Actually, they passed away, about ten years ago,” she says quietly.

My stomach drops. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—” I start to apologize, but she shakes her head.

“It’s fine, really. You weren’t to know.”

“Still, I feel terrible. I can’t believe Ash didn’t tell me.”

Tegan gives me a curious look. “When would he have done that?”

She doesn’t know about our night together, so I quickly cover. “Oh, I’m sure we were talking about our family sometime, that’s all.”

“He doesn’t like to talk about it.” Tegan shrugs. “It was hardest on him, I think. He had to take care of us all, keep a roof over our heads. Not exactly the ideal plan when you’re just out of school.” She gives me a reluctant smile, then checks her phone again. “I’m just going to call my friend Zoey. I’ll be right back!”

She heads out to the yard, but I stay a moment, leaning against the kitchen counter, deep in thought. I can’t believe I didn’t know that about Ash, but somehow, it makes sense to me: the way he acts so serious, as if the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders.

Because for the longest time, it was.

What did he go through? I wonder, trying to imagine. But I can’t, I’ve always had my parents there; always known there was a safety net if I ever fell. Sure, they bring their own burden of expectation, but I never once doubted somebody would be there to help me out when things got rough. But for Ash, there had been no net, just three younger siblings, all depending on him. Is this what pushed him to be so successful, gave him that ambitious drive?

There’s so much more than I realized, lurking beneath his polished surface. He likes to act like he has it all together, the world running in perfect control. His family is grown now, and thriving, but still, Ash seems wound tight enough to break.

Except for that night in the city, when he was totally fun-loving and relaxed.

I sigh. It’s still all way too confusing. I don’t think I’m any closer to figuring him out. And he’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want me to try.

The doorbell rings. “Just a minute,” I call, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans and going to open the door.

I stop dead. Ash is standing on the doorstep. “Someone called about a wrench?” he says, holding up the tool.

My mind goes blank. He’s dressed casually for a change: a plain black T-shirt and dark wash jeans that hug him just right. He’s even got some stubble on that strong jaw of his, and he looks sexy as hell. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since that drunken night, and I wonder if he can tell we’ve just been talking about him.

Don’t be ridiculous. Say something!

“I didn’t think I’d throw such a wrench in the works,” he adds, with a teasing smile.

I blink. Relaxed, wise-cracking Ash was definitely not what I was expecting.

“Wow, that fell flat,” Ash says wryly. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad.”

“No, it was.” I recover the power of speech and smile. “Maybe don’t quit for that stand-up career anytime soon.”

“Damn, I was all set to take this show on the road.” Ash looks around. “I hear you’ve got a guest of honor coming.”

I nod. “Classic Southern Travel.”

He whistles. “That’s a big deal.”

“Tell me about it!” My voice must reveal my panic, because he flashes me a reassuring grin.

“Don’t worry, they love this kind of quaint folksy place. You’ll do great.”

“Umm, thanks.” I pause, confused. This guy changes moods so quickly I could get whiplash. One minute he’s joking with me, the next, he can’t get away fast enough.

As if remembering our last encounter, Ash’s smile turns awkward. “Listen, I’m sorry about the other day. I know I left in a hurry, I just didn’t think… Well, I didn’t want you doing anything you’d regret. What with the beer, and the head injury… I know you weren’t thinking straight.”

Thought didn’t really come into it – try pure lust. I feel a flush just at the memory of how I threw myself at him.

“Oh, don’t worry,” I reply breezily, trying to cover my embarrassment. “It happens all the time. Once I got a concussion, and nearly signed up for pole dancing classes.”

“Really?” he quirks an eyebrow at me.

“What do you think?” I shoot back.

He laughs. “I don’t know. You’re pretty unpredictable.”

Our eyes lock, and for a split-second, I feel the heat surge between us. Then Ryland rounds the corner, hoisting a bucket of something. “You brought it?” he asks, seeing Ash.

“Right here.” Ash holds up the wrench.

“Great, we’re just up on the roof.”

Ash gives me a quick smile. “Duty calls.”

I pull myself together. “Thanks for coming,” I say. “You didn’t have to.”

“It's the neighborly thing to do,” he quips, then heads around back – giving me a front-row seat of just how well his jeans fit.

Suddenly, the day has gotten a whole lot more complicated.

Even with Ash proving a constant distraction, I manage to keep it together for the rest of the day. The guys finish the roof work, and then we all pitch in doing a lightning-fast revamp of the sprawling, overgrown yard: mowing the lawn, cleaning up the patio furniture, and tidying the borders. Even the Petersons help out when they get back from their afternoon walk: Harold turns out to have an eye for wildflowers, while Pamela insists on helping me weed the flower beds.