LITMIR.BIZ

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was if they agreed to take time off their jobs. You can’t blame them for wanting to get you back for scheduling this trip right during the middle of baseball season.”

      He grunted, but smiled to himself because he’d definitely outplayed his dad and brothers with that negotiation maneuver.

      “Besides,” Angela continued, “deep down, you know your family is looking out for your best interest.”

      “Story of my life,” Kaleb said as he flicked on the turn signal. A few years ago, he would’ve been annoyed, but now the high-handed move was completely expected and Kaleb would’ve suspected something was wrong if his family hadn’t tried to protect him in some way. Old habits were hard to break and all that. He didn’t begrudge them their motivation, even when he grew exasperated with their tactics. “So, tell me how the testing of the avatar prototype went.”

      “It went great for the preliminary rounds. A couple of minor glitches to work out but our software team is on top of it.”

      “Have them meet with the graphic artists to go over—”

      “They’re already on it, Boss Man,” Angela interrupted.

      “What about the negotiations with the record label to let us use that song for the intro to ‘Zombies vs. Alien Pirates’?”

      “The legal department is drawing up the contracts this week.”

      He made a right turn onto the long dirt driveway leading to the house Kane had refurbished last year. Kaleb wasn’t ready to call it a night quite yet, though. An unexplained restlessness simmered in his belly and he reached for his tablet on the passenger seat. He pulled up his electronic calendar on the screen as he steered the truck with one hand. “Where are we at with those new health care benefits for the administration staff?”

      “They decided that they’d rather have a sushi chef in the cafeteria than affordable insurance, so HR is actively screening applicants at every Japanese restaurant in the greater Seattle area.”

      “Really?” Kaleb jerked his head up, stopping in front of the barn that had been converted into a garage.

      “No, Kaleb. Not really. But I left a very good-looking date and a warm cup of sake so I could step outside of Sensei Miso’s and take your call.”

      Angela had been the first person Kaleb hired when he’d started Perfect Game Industries, which meant that she’d been with him since before he could legally drink alcohol and, therefore, felt free to give him her opinion—along with any other unsolicited advice she deemed suitable. Funny how in his quest to start a business that was completely independent of his family, he hired the one person who acted like his long-lost big sister all the time.

      Which was probably why he sounded less like an authoritative boss and more like a petulant little brother when he replied, “You could’ve said as much when you answered the phone.”

      “Kaleb, you and I both know that my salary more than compensates me for these after-hours calls. But you’re supposed to be on vacation. That means that all your vice presidents and department directors are getting a vacation from you micromanaging us.”

      “I’ve never micromanaged anyone in my life,” Kaleb shot back, using his finger to scroll through his online notes to see if there was anything he’d missed regarding the marketing staff.

      “Whatever you say, Boss Man.” Angela’s tone wasn’t the least bit deferential.

      “You don’t know micromanagement until you’ve spent a day with the Chatterson family.”

      “If that’s an invitation, I’m calling the company pilot right now and telling him to fuel up the Gulfstream.”

      “Perfect. Tell him that when he drops you off, he can take me back with him. Actually, bring that new admin assistant from accounting with you. I hear he’s been angling for your job since he started. I bet he’ll be glad to know that the position is finally opening up.”

      “You mean the one who wore the Bobby Chatterson retro jersey to the company roller-skating party last month? Yeah, I’m sure he wouldn’t be above taking a bribe from your old man, either.”

      “Are you done with the sarcasm?” Kaleb asked. If he wanted to deal with people giving him a hard time, he’d drive back to Kylie’s house. Or even to Molly’s. How did he always inevitably surround himself with so many know-it-all women?

      “You started it,” Angela pointed out. “Seriously, though, Kaleb. You’ve hired the best of the best to work for you. The least you could do is trust us to handle things while you enjoy your vacation.”

      Kaleb would hardly call this trip to Sugar Falls a vacation. He’d much rather be at the office dealing with things himself, rather than delegating. But he’d made a promise to his parents to at least try.

      Just like he’d made a promise to a petite, blue-eyed blonde that he’d keep her secret safe. He looked at the digital calendar on his smartwatch. Nine more days to go.

       Chapter Four

      Molly had only been in Sugar Falls for seventy-two hours, and already she knew why the locals didn’t go to the restaurants on the weekends. She took a tentative sip of her coffee minus the cream and sugar—thank you very much, unreliable pancreas—as Hunter swiveled in the counter stool next to her, trying to locate a customer he might know from school or the Little League field.

      “Man, this place is packed for a Monday!” Her nephew seemed intent on not using his inside voice.

      “It’s Memorial Day weekend, bud.” She handed him one of the laminated menus with the Cowgirl Up Café logo printed on the front.

      “I told you we shoulda gone to the Donut Stop. At least there we could’ve run into someone we actually know.”

      Yeah, that was the exact reason why Molly’d shot down his suggestion first thing this morning. Well, that and the fact that she wouldn’t have been able to order anything other than a starchy, cream-filled sugar bomb. She hadn’t been back to Duncan’s Market since Friday and Hunter had already exhausted the supply of leftover pizza for his past two breakfasts.

      She was supposed to be the fun aunt. The aunt with no rules. The aunt who all the nieces and nephews begged to come chaperone their school dances or to take them and their friends on tours of Blackhawk helicopters. Or at least she would have been if she ever spent some quality time with any of them.

      She’d like to think she’d been mostly fun this weekend, going hiking and kayaking and bike riding. But she’d also been feeding her growing twelve-year-old nephew a steady diet of canned soup, which was about the least exciting thing on the planet to eat.

      “Finally!” Hunter all but shouted over the noise of the crowded restaurant. “Hey, Kaleb, there’s a spot right here!”

      Molly’s shoulders froze, her coffee mug suspended halfway between the Formica counter and her clenched jaw. She should’ve gone to the Donut Stop and risked a maple-glazed-induced coma. Her pride forbade her from turning around to make eye contact with Kaleb, thereby encouraging him to accept Hunter’s invitation to sit by them. But her curiosity told her pride to go pound sand.

      That zapping electrical current shot through her body again. She shouldn’t have looked.

      He was still wearing those serious glasses, paired with jeans that were meant to look sloppy but probably cost more than her officer’s mess dress uniform—which was the most expensive thing she owned. His green T-shirt displayed a replica of the blueprints for the Millennium Falcon, and Hunter immediately commented on their apparent shared love of Star Wars as Kaleb warily approached.

      “Are you sure you don’t mind me joining you guys?” Given the way his eyes were fixated on her face, he was directing the question toward her.

      But Hunter answered

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