“Willa!” Luke comes tearing out of the house like a bat out of hell, socked feet straight down the dirt path and onto the gravel driveway. He knows better but hasn’t stopped talking about Willa since she left yesterday. Poor kid is so starved for female attention that all someone needs to do is climb a tree with him and he has them up on a pedestal.

He comes to a screeching halt in front of her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Willa laughs, all pretty and sexy, with a little rasp—like she smokes or something. And I’m wondering if she does. I didn’t ask her if she smokes.

She crouches in front of him and ruffles his soft hair. “I’m so glad to be here. We’re going to have the best summer.”

“What are we going to do?” His eyes go all sparkly, excitement pouring off him.

“Everything,” she replies, waving a hand in a wide arc. “All the things.”

My brows furrow from their own fruition. I want Luke to have fun, but not too much fun.

She reads my expression because her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Cliff diving. Bull riding. I’ll even teach you how to shotgun a beer.”

I shake my head at her as my lips flatten, already seeing my peaceful summer swirling down the drain.

She’s going to drive me up the fucking wall.

Luke’s nose wrinkles. “Beer is gross.”

She just laughs again. “Smart answer, kid. I’m just joking. But I have lots of fun ideas. Help me get my suitcase inside?”

“Of course!” my son’s sugary voice exclaims as he slides his hand into hers without hesitation.

I groan and stride down the stairs, covering the ground quickly to reach the back of her Jeep at the same time they do. Holding a hand up to stop them, I grumble, “I’ve got this.”

“Very chivalrous. Thank you, Mr. Eaton.”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Mr. Eaton. That makes me feel like an old perv.

Or like my dad. Which is possibly the same thing.

But I don’t correct her, because the old perv part of me likes it. Instead, I open the back hatch and pull out her massive suitcase.

“I want to show you my room!” Luke says, like an excited squirrel with a nut that can’t figure out where to put it.

It’s honestly kind of endearing.

I heave the suitcase out just in time to watch them walk hand in hand into my house, and for some reason, I stop and watch. Unable to look away. Lots of people have walked through that front door.

But somehow this feels different.

* * *

“In bed by eight.”

Willa nods, face perfectly serious even though I’m pretty sure there’s a part of her that’s mocking me. “Okay.”