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I may have gone a little overboard with the food.

I look around at the assortment of snacks I’ve organized into baskets, and the chilled bowl of diced watermelon I’ve just finished carving. The ice chest is stocked full of juice boxes, soda, and canned water—all of which come from Kingsley Industries latest product release, designed with sustainability in mind. The drink line is planned to hit the shelves in just a few weeks, and thanks to Kira’s quick thinking with her product placement idea, we’re already projecting a major hit.

I take a long look at the food display. The sight of my vision turned to life. But rather than excitement, I’m hit with a pang of sadness.

I miss the days when I was able to work on the stuff I love rather than having to be the bad guy all the time. I used to be able to create and build things that I cared about. These days I spend most of my time combing over profit margins and compliance reports and having to be realistic. Somewhere along the way I stopped being the idea guy and became the one who has to say no to him.

It sucks being a walking buzzkill. No wonder Leo is always so grouchy.

At least these last few days with Kira have made the work feel a little more bearable. She’s given me something to be excited about, even if I know our time together is limited and can never be anything more than a summer fling.

I catch the bleak thought and shake it from my mind. That’s a worry for another day.

Today we’re having a pool party.

But not just any pool party. This one carries a little more weight. It’s not every day you get to make a first impression on the immediate family of the woman you’re casually sleeping with.

It’s a lot of pressure. And I’ve never been the kind of person to do anything halfway. Especially something I have a natural tact for.

I wasn’t lying when I said I love hosting.

I get it from my mom.

I’ve lived in this giant house for almost ten years and haven’t gotten a chance to host anything other than my housewarming party. Being a single guy living in a small town where everyone knows your family doesn’t exactly give you a ton of reasons to throw a party.

If we’re celebrating, it’s either a work thing or a holiday or birthday, which falls under my parents' jurisdiction. And the Kingsleys know how to throw a damn good party. Hell, even Bartholomew, my parents' cat, gets his own birthday party.

When I was younger, I thought my life would follow in my parents' footsteps. I always dreamed of meeting the right person and eventually settling down.

But life had other plans for me. Things got complicated, and I had to improvise.

Which is why I’m a thirty-three-year-old bachelor, with a fear of a real long-term commitment and no personal life achievements worth celebrating outside of work.

My existential thoughts are derailed in record-breaking time when I look up to see Kira making her way over to me, a cheery-looking blonde on her arm.

She’s wearing a white linen cover-up that barely conceals the bright red triangle bikini beneath. All it’d take is one deliberate tug of that thin string around her neck, and I could have her topless…

“Damn, Roman. I did tell you they’re only three people, didn’t I?” She asks, her eyes sending me a warning glare to stop gawking.

I scrub a hand over my scruffed jaw and gather myself.

“Thank you so much for having us today.” The smiling blonde says, looking between us like she’s picking up on our unspoken exchange. “I’m Greer. And this is Sasha…” She gestures to the shy, somewhat gangly, golden-haired boy behind her.

I set the spatula down and shake her hand, offering a fist bump to the boy, which he seems to appreciate. Judging by his gangly limbs and the fuzz developing on his upper lip, I’d say he’s probably around thirteen or so. Which means Greer must’ve been pretty young when she had him…

It’s absolutely none of my business, but I find myself growing more intrigued about Kira’s backstory.

“And this is Evie—” Greer starts, but before I have time to get a good look, the dark-haired little girl streaks past in a blur and cannonballs into the deep end. Her slight body barely makes a splash.

Greer and Kira both clap and cheer, holding up their fingers to give her a perfect score.

Meanwhile, Matilda barks from the edge. Her gaze is locked on the child as she swims to the ladder and climbs out.

“Sorry about that…” Greer widens her eyes and forces a smile as she adds, “She’s full of energy.”

“Don’t worry, I know what you mean. I have a little brother just like that.”

“Which one?” Kira asks, genuinely curious.