Tate—always a night owl—was sitting at the counter, tinkering on his laptop, when Mitch walked into the room. Darkness pressed in from outside, just a twinkle of lights across the water reflecting in the glass. Tate leaned back in his chair. “She finally go to sleep?”

Mitch opened a cupboard and pulled out a mug. “You mean pass out from crying? Yeah. Finally.”

Tate chuckled. “Gotta admit. All those years you spent helping Ryan with Julia, I never saw you as the father figure. Not until tonight.”

Mitch scowled as he poured coffee into his mug. “Don’t get used to it. She’s not my kid, and her mother has made it more than clear she doesn’t want her to be my kid. I am not, and never will be, dad material.”

Tate was silent for a moment. The strong, bitter coffee went down hot, but at least it cleared the last of the cobwebs from Mitch’s brain. He took another sip, wishing it would clear away that lingering ache in his chest too.

“What are you gonna do?” Tate asked quietly.

What he wanted to do was drink himself into oblivion and pass out just like Shannon. What he had to do was call the woman who’d just shit kicked him in the groin and tell her her daughter was over eight hundred miles away. With him.

“Consider moving to a deserted island.” He pulled out his cell and cringed when he saw seven missed calls from Simone.

So much for passing out.

He punched in Simone’s number. Then drew a deep breath and steeled himself for what was about to happen next.

Simone answered on the first ring. “Mitch? Is Shannon with you?”

Just the sound of her voice caused his stomach to tighten with a mixture of pain and stupidity. He clenched his jaw. “She’s here. And she’s fine.”

“Oh, thank God. I’ve been going out of my mind. Put her on the phone.”

“She’s sleeping.”

“Well, wake her up. She’s in some serious trouble for this stunt.”

He leaned back against the counter. Across the kitchen, Tate watched with interest. “No.”

“This isn’t funny, Mitch. Put her on the damn phone.”

Simone was good and fired up. The woman rarely swore. But that only fueled Mitch’s own rage. “It’s three o’clock in the freakin’ morning, Simone. She’s tired and upset and already feels like crap, thanks to you. So forgive me for not waking her so you can lay into her and make her feel worse.”

“Wha—?” Shock reverberated through the line. Then, steadier, Simone said, “Where are you? I’ll come get her.”

Bullshit. She wasn’t coming up here and fucking up any more of his life. She’d done enough of that already. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What? No. Just put her on a plane in the morning, and I’ll meet her in San Francisco.”

She didn’t want to see him. Yeah, that made this all the more fun. “And leave her feeling abandoned all over again? I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure we’ve both fucked things up for her enough for one week. I’ll call you tomorrow when I know our flight time.”

“Wait, Mitch. Have her call me.”

Now she didn’t even want to talk to him? Oh yeah, this was just so fucking excellent.

“Not if she doesn’t want to. And right now, you’re like the last person on the planet she wants to talk to.”

“Mitch—”

“You know what, Simone?” He rolled right over her, his own emotions melding with Shannon’s, leaving him vibrating with anger. “You’re just gonna have to learn to deal with disappointment. I sure have.”

He clicked End before she could protest and slid the phone into the back pocket of his jeans. A tension headache—or maybe it was a hangover headache—was taking up space right behind his eyeballs. He rubbed two fingers over his brow.

“That sounded like it went well,” Tate said from the table.

“About as well as a car crash on the 101.” Mitch tossed his coffee in the sink and headed for the living room. “I’m tired. If Shannon wakes, make sure she doesn’t escape, would ya? The last thing I need is her mother all over my ass because she got away.”

“At one time, you would have liked that.”

Yeah, he would have. And part of him still did. But as he’d told Simone, disappointment was something he was learning to live with.

“That’s because I’m a sick son of a bitch.” Mitch turned for the stairs. “But like you, Kendrick, thank the stars above, I’ve finally come to my senses.”

“Yeah,” Kendrick muttered from the kitchen in a less than enthusiastic tone, “we’re regular old rocket scientists, aren’t we?”

* * *

Simone stared at the phone in her hand in utter disbelief.

He’d hung up on her.

“She’s with Mitch?” Kate asked where she sat next to Simone on the sofa. “Oh, thank God. What did he say?”

“He—” Simone was still too shocked to think. She knew Mitch was pissed at her after the scene at his house, but this was different. He’d all but accused her of being a terrible mother. Which, she couldn’t help but agree, she was. She swallowed hard. “H-he said he’s bringing her back to San Francisco tomorrow.”

Kate and Ryan exchanged glances. She saw it from the corner of her eye. But she was too upset to care what they were thinking.

“Don’t worry, Simone,” Ryan said. “Mitch has been taking care of Julia for years. He’s very responsible. I’m sure everything’s just fine.”

From the leather chair across the room where she lay splayed over the armrest, Julia huffed. “Sure. Responsible. That’s Uncle Mitch. He’s only forgotten to pick me up from practice and school and stuff five, maybe six times. The best was the time I had to wait at the softball fields, in the rain, for two hours because Dad was on a trip and Uncle Mitch totally spaced me off.”

“Julia Anne Harrison,” Ryan snapped. All eyes shot his way, and his jaw clenched as he visibly tried to hold back his temper. “That’s not helping.”

Kate pushed from the couch. “I think it’s time Julia went back to bed.” Her mother shot the girl a look. “Before she’s grounded for a second lifetime.”

Julia heaved out a sigh but stood and shuffled toward the stairs, her chestnut hair a wild mop of curls around her face, her fuzzy pajama bottoms too long and dragging on the floor. She paused with one foot on the bottom step, one hand on the newel post, and turned to look back into the living room. “For what it’s worth, we didn’t mean for anyone to get mad. We were just trying to help.”

Her mother sighed. “Julia—”

“No. Wait.” Emotions shot through Simone’s chest, pushing her to her feet and forcing her to step into the entryway. “How on earth could you or Shannon possibly think running away would help anything?”

“Shannon wasn’t running away. She was just trying to fix things. Like what happened with my mom and dad.”

Ryan moved into the entry behind Kate. “What do you mean?”

Julia’s gaze settled on Simone. “It’s like when my mom left after all the reporters were bugging us. My dad was really upset, see, but he didn’t go after her. And we didn’t know if she was coming back, even though Dad said she would eventually. But Mom got to the airport and saw this other family, and when she came back, she said looking at them made her realize what was important. That we were important. But Uncle Mitch doesn’t notice people in the airport, so he wouldn’t realize the same thing. And Shannon and I decided he needed someone to, you know, make him see what was important. That’s why she went up there. Not to run away, but to make him come back.”

The room was quiet except for the tick of a clock in the adjacent living room, and Simone’s stomach churned with a mixture of regret and sadness that nearly did her in.

Kate looked up at Ryan, standing behind her, and whispered, “How does she do that?”

He blew out a breath and moved around his wife toward his daughter on the stairs. “I don’t know. She’s too smart for her own good.” He laid a hand on Julia’s shoulder and nudged her up the stairs. “Come on, Miss Smarty pants, it’s time you went back to bed and stopped acting like a forty-year-old.”

“Dad, you’re not even forty.”

“I know. Don’t remind me.”

A tiny smile curled one side of Julia’s mouth as she slipped her hand into her father’s. “Am I still grounded for the rest of my life?”

“The jury’s out on that at the moment.”

The pair moved up the stairs and disappeared, and, dazed, Simone sank onto the couch in the living room once more. Resting her elbows on her knees, she dropped her head into her hands and just focused on breathing, because it was the only thing she could do at the moment. “I’ve made such a mess of everything. Mitch hates me. Shannon hates me. There’s no way this is ever going to get better.”

Kate sat next to her and rubbed a hand down her back. “It will. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it’ll get better. If there’s one thing I’ve learned after everything Ryan and I went through, it’s that nothing is impossible. If you love someone enough, you’ll find a way to work it out.”

Loving enough wasn’t Simone’s problem. It was everything else getting in the way of that love. She dropped her arms. “You don’t understand what’s happened. Mitch is never going to forgive me.”

Kate’s features softened. “Mitch is one of the most understanding people I know. You just have to talk to him, Simone—really talk to him—and tell him the truth about whatever’s going on with you. He’ll understand. Give him a chance.”

Simone wasn’t so sure. Maybe once, but not after she’d lied about how she felt. Why would he ever trust her again? She barely trusted herself.

She rubbed a hand over her aching head, her heart and mind at war against each other, her body caught in the middle. “The only thing I’m sure of right now is that I need to fix things with Shannon. Only then can I think about Mitch and making things right with him. Or at the very least, civil.”