“Can I kiss you at the end of the night?” he asked.

She didn’t have to think about that for long. “If you still want to at the end of this night, then yes.”

“Then I can brave just about anything.”

If she was the swooning type of girl, that might have done it.

“We’ll see,” she said flippantly, instead of throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him right now.

Though maybe she should. Just in case he was no longer inclined to kiss her at the end of the night…

“So let’s go,” he said, stepping back and moving to open her car door. “Let’s get this night started.”

Yeah, that’s what they should do. She should show him what being in her real life actually meant. He’d probably be in Aiden’s office with his checkbook out, trying to buy his shares back tomorrow morning.

“The deal for the guys to buy your shares is just in process?” she asked as she slid into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah. Paperwork and shit,” he said.

“Okay.” That was good. They could just tear the paperwork up tomorrow. “Get in.”

He loped around the front of the car with a huge grin and got in.

“This is going to be fun,” he told her.

“Sure.” Though she had to admit the idea of millionaire, playboy, computer genius Dax Marshall witnessing a Kelsey-Cassie-Aspen showdown could be entertaining.

They drove the few blocks to her childhood home, her pointing out a few things in town—like the ice cream parlor and the arcade. Those seemed like places Dax might like.

She pulled into the driveway behind Aspen’s shiny red sports car. Her dad had given it to her for her birthday four months ago. She’d already had to fix a dented fender and pay a speeding ticket. Kelsey didn’t have a car and relied on friends or Jane to get her to and from school because she refused to ask Cassie or Aspen for rides. Or for anything really.

Jane turned off the ignition and took a deep breath as she focused on the front door. Everything seemed really normal looking at that front door. The house was a typical two-story with white siding and dark gray trim and shingles. The lawn was well cared for, thanks to Kelsey and Jane, and the flower beds looked great. Also a Jane thing.

She would admit keeping the house up and doing chores kept Cassie off Kelsey’s back and gave her less to complain to Jack about, but Jane did it for more than just that.

This was where she’d grown up. Everything here was dear and familiar. The new fixtures were Cassie and Aspen. And, of course, the furniture Cassie had insisted on buying. But the house and yard, the structure, the big, solid, unchanging parts were still Jane’s home, and she took pride in keeping it looking nice.

Not that she thought Cassie would let it go. She’d never live in a dump, that was for sure. But she would have hired someone to do things like the yard work and tree trimming and landscaping. Probably even housekeeping. That would mean dipping into her joint account with Jack. The account that paid for his nursing home stay and his medications and the things he needed. Jane wasn’t about to let Cassie get them to the point where her carpets were being steam cleaned before Jack’s prescriptions were being filled.

“This is it,” she finally said to Dax. “You ready for this?”

“I have no idea,” he said. “I’m not sure what I’m preparing for exactly, so I don’t know how to prepare.”

She smiled. “Fair enough.” She opened her door.

“So still no hint?” he asked, also pushing his door open.

“Nope. I walked into the break room one day to find a wall knocked down, a cappuccino machine, and a Ping-Pong table moved in, and an UNO tournament going on. This is payback.”

That was not fair. What he was about to walk into was nothing like a break room with a Ping-Pong table. Because a break room with a Ping-Pong table could be fun.

There was nothing fun about walking into that house with two dramatic teenage girls who had no real adult supervision and were intent on making each other miserable.

“I do love surprises,” he said. He rounded the bumper and came to stand by her, studying the front of the house. “I think this is going to be fun.”

Jane snorted. “Dax, I think we’re about to walk into the one place even Ping-Pong can’t make better.”

He got a thoughtful look on his face.

“Challenge accepted.”

Oh boy. There was something about this guy saying those two words that made a tickle of trepidation go down her spine.

He grinned down at her. “Grant gets that same look on his face when I say that.”

Dax followed Jane up the front steps to her dad’s house. It was quaint. That was a good word for it, he decided. It was the kind of house you saw in movies. It was two stories, had big front windows that probably glowed with a soft yellow light at night, warm and welcoming. It also had a big front yard where he would fully expect to see a dad and son playing catch after dinner, a guy pushing a lawn mower over the grass on a Saturday afternoon, and a big old snowman in the winter. It was a family home. He would be sorely disappointed if there weren’t a thousand Christmas lights dangling from the eaves in December, and he almost didn’t want to look at the huge oak tree for fear there would not be a tire swing hanging from a branch.

Jane knocked on the front door and Dax asked, “Did you ever have a lemonade stand out on the curb?”

She glanced over her shoulder and nodded. “Yeah. A couple of times.”

Dax put a hand over his heart and breathed out. “Thank God.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, looking bemused.

“This house was made for having a lemonade stand out in front of it,” he told her. “How about a dog. Did you have a dog?”

“We did when I was little.”

“Perfect.” He grinned and looked around. “Did you pile leaves up in the fall and jump in them?”

She still looked puzzled. “We did.”

“And you hung a wreath on this door at Christmastime, right?”

The door was perfect for a wreath.

She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Awesome.”

“What is going on?”

“This is a picture-perfect family home.” He pointed to the flower beds. “Those are perfect. And…” He took the chance and glanced at the tree. “There’s a damned tire swing.” He grinned. “Perfect.”

Jane looked around too. “It’s pretty… typical.”

“It is. And I love that. I’ve never jumped in a leaf pile or had a lemonade stand,” he said.

She looked up at him. “Huh.”

“It’s kind of tragic, don’t you think?”

“I never really thought about the fact that some kids don’t do those things. But it makes sense. Kids who grow up in apartments in the city wouldn’t, I guess. Those are just things I took for granted.”

He nodded. “Those things just always seemed like the epitome of childhood.”

“Because of movies and TV,” she said.

“A lot of it, yeah.”

“Well, a house that has a pile of leaves or a lemonade stand out front isn’t automatically perfect,” she said. “Remember, that’s just the front. The stuff you can see.”