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and Quentin were having a baby.
    Frustrated, Allison slumped back into her chair in defeat. “No, you don’t see, Mom.”
    She’d meant to use the co-habitation issue as a hook to gain some maternal support by making it clear why Connor living with her in the townhouse was an untenable situation. Unfortunately, the plan had backfired: her mother was looking pleasantly surprised.
    â€œWell, what I do understand,” Ava said, “is that there’s a perfectly nice young man in there.”
    Allison stared moodily out at the lawn and wondered idly how Connor would have liked being called “a nice young man.”
    â€œAnd, if someone were interested, I’d say she couldn’t do better.”
    Allison nodded at Liz. “Can you see her counting the grandbabies? You and Quentin have opened the floodgates.”
    Liz righted the baby, who’d finished feeding. “Well, you have to admit, Connor is a catch.” She added, at Allison’s look, “If you were interested, I mean.”
    â€œSpeaking of grandbabies—” Ava took Nicholas from Liz and placed him over her shoulder to burp. “As much as I love this little sweetheart, my only regret is that Quentin and Liz didn’t have time to plan a formal wedding.” Ava stood up and started pacing, looking at Allison over the baby’s head. “So, my darling, I suggest you make sure to take those long, hot showers by yourself. Leave the cold ones to Connor.”
    â€œMom!”
    Liz looked momentarily shocked and then started giggling.
    Ava headed to the doorway, a smile on her face.
    â€œWe don’t even like each other!” Allison called to her mother’s retreating back. “We mix like oil and vinegar!”
    She turned back to Liz. “Why am I explaining myself?”
    â€œI think you’re protesting too much.”
    She grabbed a pillow from a nearby chair and tossed it at Elizabeth, who laughed and ducked.
    Â 
    The next week was a blur for Allison. Connor had finished seeing to the security system installation at the townhouse, and she and Connor had settled into a regular routine. Each morning, no matter how early, she made it to the front door only to discover Connor was already waiting for her, car keys in hand. If she didn’t call him at the end of the day, he’d phone her and ask when he needed to pick her up at the office.
    She tried to dodge him on Wednesday, but he just showed up at her office anyway and waited a half-hour for her to finish working. She’d felt like a heel, no matter how much she told herself he deserved it for barging into her life and her house.
    Yet, despite doing her best to treat him as if he were no more than a speck of dust on the wall, the two of them continued to rub up against each other. His papers and computer were set up in a corner of her study and his personal belongings were in her house.
    But what really bothered her, she admitted to herself, was the intimacy of their living situation. She’d been trying to make a point to her mother when she’d used the words sexually awkward, but the truth wasn’t far afield.
    On Thursday morning, as she was getting ready for work, she’d realized the shirt for the outfit she was putting on was hanging in the hall closet. Knowing Connor was showering, she’d dashed out of her bedroom clad only in her bra and skirt.
    She’d just turned to head back to her bedroom, pleased to have found the shirt she’d sought, when the bathroom door had unexpectedly opened and her gaze had collided with Connor’s.
    His only covering was a towel riding low on his hips. Half-naked, he paradoxically loomed even bigger and more imposing than he usually did.
    Her gaze moved downward, taking in lean but sculpted muscles and a line of hair that traveled down a flat stomach and disappeared from view at the top of his towel.
    When her gaze connected with his again, she felt herself