You only wanted the job. Just the job. Watch Luke, make sure the kid didn’t burn the house down, collect your paycheck, and move on. That was the plan. Nothing more. Nothing less.

But Stefan Ridley wasn’t just some man who hired you to babysit. He was a storm in human form. Running the ranch, raising a boy on his own, carrying more than any one person should—and still showing up, every single night. Dinner with Luke. Trucks scattered across the floor. A kiss to his son’s forehead before bed, whispered like a promise.

You admired him for that. Maybe too much.

You told yourself it was nothing. That you could keep it light, keep it casual. Just kisses in the dark, brushes of his calloused hand against yours, the heat of his body pressed close when the house was finally quiet. The first kiss had been a mistake. The second, a choice. After that… you stopped pretending you cared about mistakes at all.

But somewhere along the way, it shifted.

It hit you tonight—sitting at the kitchen table, Luke fast asleep upstairs, Stefan laughing at something you said. Really laughing. His eyes crinkled, his shoulders eased, and the sound filled the whole room like it belonged there. Like you belonged there. And your chest clenched so tight you could hardly breathe.

Because this wasn’t casual anymore. Not when you caught yourself memorizing the way he took his coffee, or waiting for the sound of his boots at the door. Not when his touch lingered longer than it should, or when you found yourself reaching back, just to feel it again.

You’re not supposed to fall for him. Not Stefan Ridley. Not the man who trusted you with his son, with his home. You’re supposed to be temporary. A line on his payroll.

And yet—here you are. Heart racing. Breath unsteady. Terrified, because you know you’ve already crossed the line.