English professor Gavin Dozier hasn’t had much luck when it comes to love. When his last boyfriend cheated on him, he was driven to experiment with women. Sex with Marian, though, had its own dangers, and before he knew it, he was a father. Now estranged, the only thing Gavin and Marian have in common is their daughter Evie, a precocious seven-year-old who stays with Gavin every other weekend. While out with her daddy, Evie meets the heavily-tattooed Brody Phelps, a sketch artist with serious talent who still dresses like a brooding punk rocker, even though he’s in his thirties. Brody is instantly attracted to the sexy college professor, but knows Gavin is out of his league -- the man has a kid, which probably means he isn’t gay, and besides, Brody never even graduated from high school. Guys like Gavin don’t go for guys like him. But when Evie leaves Gavin’s cell phone behind, Brody has the perfect excuse to meet up with them again. To his surprise they hit it off, and when he asks Gavin out, the professor accepts. Even though Evie brought them together, will her demanding personality pull them apart? Is Gavin ready to trust his heart to someone else again? Can Brody overcome his own fears of inadequacy and let Gavin in? And what will Marian have to say when the father of her child starts dating again?

Never Met a Stranger

“Tonight’s good.” Gavin checks his watch again, and realizes he has to get moving nowif he doesn’t want to run late. “Look, Mare, I have to get going. How about I stop by at what, five thirty? Six o’clock?”


Her voice is warm and inviting in his ear. “See you then.” 38


Monday evening after his last class, Gavin texts Brody a quick message—love u, will talk later—then heads over to Marian’s. He’s been looking forward to her spaghetti all day; funny how he doesn’t think about it for months and then, after she mentioned it, he can’t get it out of his mind. She’s a traditionalist when it comes to pasta. No twists or shells or fancy little things with hard to pronounce Italian names for her. It’s thin spaghetti and nothing else. When Gavin lived with her, he once made the mistake of buying fettuccine noodles instead and she refused to use them. “I’m not making fettuccine alfredo,” she argued. “I’m making spaghetti. The name of the dish is the type of pasta you use.”


Chapter 50