“Oh my God.” She panted beneath him. “We broke the bed. Are you okay?”

Liam heaved the headboard up so she could slip out from underneath him. When she was safely away, he lifted it onto the floor and gave a satisfied growl. “Now, that was good sex. Where’s my phone?”

“You are not posting a picture of this.” Daisy’s heart pounded as she surveyed the destruction. “What if someone in my family saw it?”

“It’s just for me.” He grabbed his phone and snapped a quick picture. “But if anyone did see it, they’d be jealous that you are with a fucking sex machine who is so powerful he ripped your headboard in half.” He curled his arms, popped his biceps. “The Hulk is no match for the power of these pythons.”

“I see another python is also proud of the fact that my room is destroyed.”

Liam cupped his semi-erect length and gave a manly tug. “The desk is next. Or should we do it on your dresser? You’ve got a weapon of mass destruction at your beck and call. Just point me in the right direction.”

Laughter bubbled up in her chest. She loved this playful, joyful side of Liam. Maybe he’d never really had a chance to embrace that part of his personality when he was growing up, but he was definitely making up for it now.

“Are you seriously comparing yourself to a weapon of mass destruction?”

“Look at this room.” He opened his arms wide. “We rocked the fucking world.”

Daisy made her way across the broken shambles of the bed. It didn’t look girlie anymore. They’d managed to knock off the pink duvet, and all the fluffy pillows, and tangle the delicately flowered sheets in a heap.

Definitely time for a change.

“Where are you going”—he growled—“wiggling that sexy little ass at me?”

Daisy looked back over her shoulder and smiled. “You said something about a desk?”

• 23 •

 Friday, 3:30 A.M.

 DAISY: Are you awake?

 LAYLA: I am now.

 DAISY: I had sex with Liam.

 LAYLA: Is that your idea of a joke? It’s too early in the morning.

 DAISY: We broke my bed and my desk and my collection of Disney princess teacups.

 LAYLA: OMG. I can’t even . . . Are you CRAZY?!!?

 DAISY: Maybe.

 LAYLA: He’s supposed to be your FAKE fiancé.

 DAISY: It was just a onetime thing. I’m about to send him home. He’s sleeping on my collection of stuffed pigs because there are splinters in my sheets.

 LAYLA: What are you going to do when your dad comes home?

 DAISY: Tell him I had a nightmare.

 LAYLA: I hope it’s a nightmare and Sam is going to wake me up and I’ll be in my bed not texting you in the middle of the night.

 DAISY: It was soooooo goooood.

 LAYLA: Stop. You’re hurting my eyes.

 DAISY: He’s waking up.

 LAYLA: We need to talk about this. Send him home now. Don’t do anything stupid.

 DAISY: GTG. He wants MORE!

* * *

• • •

SUNDAY morning, Liam drove up the narrow lane leading to the distillery, with Jaxon bouncing excitedly in the back seat behind him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to visit but he was shocked at the state of disrepair. The white wooden fences were gray and worn, the low stone walls crumbling, and the cobblestone drive was bumpy with holes. Looking at the run-down buildings and rusted barns, he wondered if Daisy would think their arrangement wasn’t worth the effort.

He’d spent a lot of time during the last couple of days wondering what she thought. What would she do if he texted her before their next date for no reason other than to see how she was doing? They hadn’t made a rule about texting, but they did have a rule against developing feelings. It was a stupid rule and he was stupid for agreeing to it, especially because the feelings were already there. And now that he’d slept with her, he was even more certain that the feelings he was having were going to get him into trouble, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Go faster, Uncle Liam. I want to see the horses.”

“Sorry, bud.” He caught Jaxon’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “This is your mom’s car, and I don’t want the gravel to chip the paint. She might not let us go on any more adventures together.”

A few minutes later, he rounded the final bend of the long road and parked outside the visitor center alongside Joe’s blue pickup truck. As soon as he stepped out of the car, he could smell the grains cooking, the scent of slightly sour bread. It was a smell he associated with his grandfather, and he felt a sudden pang of sadness in his chest.

Jaxon ran across the gravel to see the horses in the neighboring field as soon as Liam helped him out of the car, stopping briefly to say hello to Joe who had come out to greet them.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you out here.” Joe wiped his hands on his coveralls before shaking Liam’s hand. At seventy-five, he was slightly stooped, his dark hair thinning and gray, but he was still strong and fit, his mind as sharp as it had ever been.

“It’s been a while and I’ve been wanting to stop by. When Lauren asked me to look after Jaxon today, I thought we’d make a day of it.”

Joe sighed. “Good idea, since it’s all coming down in a couple of weeks anyway.”

“No one is tearing it down,” Liam said firmly. “Your job is safe, Joe, and the jobs of the other employees here, too.”

Joe lifted an eyebrow. “So that girl you told us about at the will reading . . . She’s real?”