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Marc drew back a little. “Sunshine, I hate to bluntly burst your bubble, but I’ve known Blaze a long time—long enough to know he’s never begrudged me flirting with a woman he set his sights on. If you want the real truth, in those cases we were very good at sharing.”

My jaw dropped. I wasn’t surprised—I mean, I’d read dozens of reverse harem romances, but to meet someone who’d actually done that…It had to be more common than finding a unicorn, but it didn’t feel that way.

“Blaze was never territorial over anyone, Harper. Not the way I’ve seen him with you,” he revealed, and I chastised my heart for wanting to beat just a little faster in my chest. “You know he warned me to stay away from you?”

I choked. “Now, I know you’re lying.”

“Scout’s honor.”

I rolled my eyes. “After what you just told me, the last thing I can imagine is you being a Boy Scout.”

“Fair,” he chuffed. “But I’m not lying. He told me to steer clear of you.”

“Maybe because he thinks I’m crazy.”

“He said it was because his life was complicated enough, which is how I knew it was a lie.”

I picked at a fry from my plate, swirling it in ketchup for a second before I couldn’t help but ask, “Oh?”

“When Blaze thinks someone is coming on too strong, he usually encourages me to jump in to take some of the heat off him.”

“And does that work?”

Marc winked at me, and flashing me a devilish grin, said, “I can be pretty persuasive.” And for a brief moment, I could see how possible that was.

“Harper!” Paisley came running over and grabbed my legs.

“What’s up?” I looked down at her popsicle-smeared face. Looked like the kids had started on dessert early.

“Where’s my dad?” She panted. “I have to ask him a question.”

I turned, but Blaze—and Aria—were gone.

“I’m not sure…” I scanned around. “Did you check inside?” What would they have gone inside for? Maybe the bathroom? Something from the kitchen?

Some privacy?

I shuddered. I was losing it. Blaze wasn’t going to hook up with a woman he’d just met at my family’s cookout.

“I’ll look.” She darted for the stairs up to the back deck and the sliding door inside.

I was about to say I’d go with her when Gigi blocked my path. “Harper, sweetie. Did you try your special jam?”

Translation: did you read the label?

“No, not yet. I will though, I promise,” I told her. It wasn’t a lie; she’d asked if I’d tried it and I hadn’t, but of course, I’d read the label.

Her head wobbled side to side, that knowing smile of hers pinned to her face. “I know you will.”

Why did it sound so ominous when she said it like that?

“Special jam?” Marc’s eyebrow popped as soon as she shuffled away.

“It’s nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “But you know what, I think I’m going to head out.”

I was surprised I’d lasted this long. It was shockingly draining when you were constantly trying to avoid the man you were living with.

“What? I heard there were s’mores coming,” Marc protested.