I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not like this.

But when Ava invited me to spend the summer at her dad’s house in the hills—far from the noise, the boys, and the rules-I said yes before she even finished texting. I needed an escape. I needed space. I just didn’t know the space I’d find myself craving would be him.

Her dad.

Damon f**king Walker.

Tall. Rugged. Veiny forearms. Perpetually shirtless with that half-greased tool belt slung low on his hips. Forty-two and carved like he belonged in a SHOW titled Divorced Dads Who'll Ruin You. I hated how often I stared. How often I imagined. And how I was...