"You should probably take her seriously." I take a drag on my beer. "I hear she's real handy with a rifle."

"Liv-bug." Autumn picks up a small toy house and some figures that look vaguely like plastic people with oversized heads. "Look at this! Wouldn't you like this instead?"

I take another drag on my beer while Autumn negotiates with her child, handing the toy to Luke when she successfully negotiates a trade. "Hide this someplace or get the batteries out of there. Or else you're a dead man."

Luke laughs. "No sense of humor."

"I'll remind you to have a sense of humor when I buy Olivia her first drum set. Next week."

I listen to them playfully bicker back and forth as I sit on their beige sofa in the ranch house. This home is so unlike anything I ever thought my brothers or I would ever have. This place, with its white walls and whitewashed floors and airy curtains hanging on the windows, a trail of kid's toys running from the living room into the kitchen, is the opposite of the kind of place we grew up. Hell, I've never lived in any place like this. I feel as uncomfortable as I can, sitting here in my jeans and boots like I'm going to muck up all of Autumn's nice things.

It's funny how Luke's adapted to this life, I think as I watch Autumn looks up at him lovingly before he wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her tight against him. It's like he was always meant to be here.

For a split second, I feel a pang of jealousy.

"Luke made hors d'ouvres." Autumn's voice breaks through my thoughts.

I look at Luke. "Well, la-de-dah. Are we having tea with the Queen, too?"

"Keep talking and you'll get nothing," Luke says. "They're bacon-wrapped jalapenos."

"Could you keep an eye on Olivia for just a second, Killian?" Autumn asks. She turns around and follows Luke into the kitchen without waiting for my response.

"Uh..." I eyeball the kid who is attempting to shove one of the plastic people into the chimney on top of the house where it clearly doesn't fit. She becomes increasingly upset and smashes the figure against the house a few times, finally stopping when she looks up and notices that Autumn and Luke aren't in the room. She eyes me warily.

"So ..." I hope she doesn't move. Or cry. That would be bad. After I returned to West Bend, I came over here for dinner once before, at Autumn's insistence, but they didn't leave me alone in a room with the kid.

Olivia points at an inflatable plastic ball beside the sofa. "My ball."

"Yep. Your ball," I repeat. So what am I supposed to do here? Do I talk to the kid like we're having a normal conversation?

"Ball!" she yells, louder and more insistent this time.

"Yeah, dude, I get it. Ball." I hold it up to her. "Do you want me to throw it?"

She claps and tries to grab for the ball. "Yes. Throw ball!"

Alright, I can do this. I toss the ball gently to her, but she drops it and it rolls across the floor. She stares at me for a moment, her expression indignant. Then her eyes well up with tears.

Oh shit.

And she starts wailing, screaming and flailing her arms wildly like I just took away her birthday.

Autumn walks out from the kitchen with a plate in her hand, and I hold both of my hands up, looking warily at the kid who's standing in front of me screaming accusatorily.

"Uh...I threw the ball and she dropped it," I start.

"The ball! Him! The ball!" Olivia wails, her scream hysterical now.

Autumn sighs loudly. "It's right here, Liv." Autumn speaks calmly to her, handing her the ball.

"I thought she wanted me to throw it," I say sheepishly.

Autumn shrugs. "She's a toddler," she explains. "They scream. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, sure," I say. But that's just confirmation of what I already know, and that's that I don't fucking understand kids.

11.

Lily.

"I know that running by the bakery is boring," I admit. "But I'll be just a few minutes. You can have a snack and then we'll head to swim class. We won't be late."

"Can I have a double chocolate cupcake?" Chloe asks casually.

"Don't push your luck," I tell her, looking at her in the rearview mirror. She catches my eye and gives me her best sad puppy-dog look. "I have fruit and cheese sticks at the bakery."

"Ugh, gross." Chloe rolls her eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh.

"Why are you giving me the 'ugh, gross' thing?" I ask, distracted as I turn down the main street in town. "You like that stuff."

"It's fiiine."

"Not as good as double chocolate cupcakes?" I tease.

"I don't like cheese sticks anymore."

"Uh-huh. Since when? You had them yesterday."

"Since today."

"Fine. We'll find something healthy and non-cheese stick for you, then."

"And a cupcake after dinner?" she asks.

"Maybe. If you get your homework done and clean up your room."

"Mo-om," she whines.

"What?"

"That's really not a fair trade," she says. "I have to do math and it sucks. Plus, there are a lot of toys in my room to clean up."

"Life's not fair." I turn into the parking space in front of the bakery. "And if you have too many toys, we should definitely get rid of some of them."

"What?" she squeals. "No way."

"Yes way." I unbuckle her from her car seat and she jumps out of the car, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She walks ahead of me, bouncing on one foot and then the other as she skips the cracks in the sidewalk like she's playing hopscotch, her brown ponytail swinging back and forth.

"I don't think we need to get rid of my toys, mom," she says, holding open the bakery door for me, suddenly congenial.

"You don't, do you?"

It's almost four and the bakery is empty. Generally, I try to have things completely wrapped up by the end of the day so I can pick up Chloe from school and focus on her for the rest of the afternoon. But I need to grab some paperwork to work on while Chloe's at swimming lessons, and check on the delivery that should have come this afternoon.

I walk quickly through the store toward the kitchen. "Pull out your homework and start working on it," I tell her. Why she has so much homework in first grade, I just can't understand. I don't think I had homework when I was her age. "I'll grab you a snack."

"I don't like the math problems," she calls.

"You have to do them anyway."

The back door in the kitchen is open, and I stop short when Killian enters from outside carrying a fifty-pound bag of flour over his shoulder . . . shirtless. Sweat glistens on the wide expanse of his muscles and I just stand there for a second with my mouth open, gawking at him.

Shit. I'm leering at him like I've never seen a bare-chested man before. Except I have. I've seen a bare-chested Killian before, in fact. The image may be burned into my brain.

Killian sets the bag of flour down on the floor and wipes his brow. "Didn't expect you back here," he says.

"Oh?" I ask, forcing nonchalance into my voice. Sound casual, Lily. Like you're not gaping at his pecs. Or his abs. Or the tattoo that covers his chest and winds up over his shoulder and down his bicep.

I forgot what I was going to say.

Killian smirks like he can read my mind as he reaches for his shirt on one of the shelves.

"Hey mom!" Chloe yells, barging through the swinging doors. "Ugh. Totally gross. Why is your shirt off? I don't need to see that."

I laugh at her bluntness, but choke and wind up coughing loudly. Killian scrambles into his shirt, and when I look up, I think I see a faint blush on his cheeks. Oh my God. Is the caveman embarrassed?

"I didn't know anyone was here," he says.

Chloe walks over to the refrigerator and throws open the door with a bang. "You're probably getting sweat everywhere, you know," she yells. "Did you know sweat contains bacteria?"

"He's bringing in a delivery, Chloe," I say.

"It was warm outside," Killian explains.

Chloe reappears with a bowl of cut-up fruit. "No, it's not," she argues. "We had to wear jackets at recess today, and East took his off, and then Mrs. S told him to put it back on so he didn't catch a cold."

"That's not really how colds work," Killian says. "Is East a kid?"

"Yeah," Chloe says, popping a grape into her mouth. "That's his name. East."

Killian snorts. "Who names their kid something dumb like that?"

I clear my throat and glare at Killian. "Do you have anywhere else to be?"

Chloe's eyes get wide. "See, mom?" she asks, looking at me and then back to Killian. "I said it was a stupid name and I got two of my toys taken away because mom said I shouldn't say mean things. This guy just said 'dumb'."

Killian shrugs. "Some things are self-evident."

"Mr. Saint shouldn't have used the word 'dumb'," I say sternly. "Because we don't call people dumb. How would you like it if someone called you those things?"

"I didn't call East dumb!" Chloe protests. "I said his name was stupid, and I didn't say it to him, I said it to you. If I said it to him, that would be mean."

"We don't say other people's names are dumb!" I reiterate firmly.

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest. "He said it."

"He's an adult, and sometimes adults say stupid things," I blurt out. I immediately regret my choice of words.

"You just said stupid! Now you have to lose a toy."

"I don't have any toys to lose." I think I hear Killian cough and then clear his throat. Of course. I'm sure he assumes I'm a hard-up single mom with a drawer full of battery-operated toys. Okay, so that's not far removed from reality. "Why don't you take your fruit out to the table and do your homework?"

Chloe ignores me. Instead, she looks at Killian through narrowed eyes and pops a piece of pineapple into her mouth. "Are you working for my mom?"

"He's helping out for a little bit, yes, Chloe. What did I say about your homework?"

"This is a bakery," Chloe says, frowning as she looks at him. "Only girls work in bakeries."

"That's not true," I say. I swear I've taught her better than that.

Killian interrupts. "You've never seen a male chef?" he asks, his voice gruff. "Men can work in bakeries just fine."

"How would you like it if someone told you that you couldn't play with something because it was a boy's toy?" I ask.

"That's what East says at school whenever I try to do math," Chloe complains. "He says girls can't do math."

"Well, there you go, East does sound like a stupid kid," Killian says.

"Killian!" I hiss. I'm going to kill him.

"I know." Chloe nods sagely as she looks at Killian. "But I'm not going to tell him that because that would be mean. I'll just think it in my head when I look at him."

"Homework," I growl.

"I'm going!" she says. "But don't forget swim lessons!"

"I'll only be a few minutes. You have time to do at least five math problems."

"Two," she says casually, as she walks out the door.

"This is not a negotiation!" I call. When she's gone, I turn to look at Killian. "That's not true," I admit, exhaling heavily. "Everything's a negotiation."