There was nothing in Autumn's meager wardrobe that screamed Food Network chic. In any case, most of her outfit was going to be covered up by an apron. So she grabbed the first clean shirt she saw and tossed it on with her one and only pair of jeans. The apron was hanging up in the kitchen and still had streaks of flour and blood on it with chocolate stains across the front. Well, it was too late to throw it in the wash.

As she walked down the stairs, she thought about what Corbin had said to her the other day. Were they really similar? Even if his story was true, the difference was in the fact that Corbin was successful and she was not. Most days, she felt as if she was just spinning her wheels. Whatever the outcome of these little "dates", she just hoped to walk away with her dignity—and a paycheck.

By the time Corbin arrived at eight, Autumn had a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls keeping warm under a cloche. Dusting her hands off, she took a deep breath and went to answer the door.

The first thing Autumn noticed was the bouquet of pink roses in Corbin's right hand. Second was his outfit: grey trousers paired with a light blue button-down shirt that was slightly open at the collar. Autumn took a slight step back. Was it hot in here or was it her?

It was the oven.

Definitely the oven.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, turning the exact shade as the flowers. "Thank you." She honestly wasn't expecting anything.

Corbin smiled, holding them out. God, why did he have to look so endearing? "I have some for Jordyn, too," he said, revealing three multi-colored daisies with a white rose in the middle in his other hand.

Autumn took the rose bouquet and promptly stuck her nose in the middle. Oh, they smelled nice. Better than the cooked blood she'd smelled recently. "She's still sleeping and probably won't be up until noon. Oh, please come in," she added hastily.

"Stayed up too late watching movies?" Corbin inquired, shutting the door behind him.

"I wish." Autumn laughed wryly. "She streams."

"Streams?" he asked as they walked to the kitchen.

"Yes, she's been playing video games with a group of friends over Twitch for the last year."

"I confess, I have no idea what that is," Corbin said and took a seat at the kitchen island, laying Jordyn's flowers on the countertop.

"It's a website where people can watch other people play video games."

"They do?"

"Yes. It's absurdly popular with kids." Autumn slid behind the counter and grabbed two tall glasses from a cabinet, filling them with water. "She doesn't have a large following, but she's doing well so far." If anyone in the family could be successful, Autumn hoped that it was her daughter.

"Interesting." Corbin leaned on the counter. "I'll have to look into that."

"I'm warning you, it's a big rabbit hole." Autumn popped the flowers into the glasses and set them next to the sink. They were simple arrangements, nothing over the top—and they did look very lovely. She did notice that he chose smaller bouquets over those that were more elaborate and expensive, which she appreciated.

He smiled. "I like learning about new things."

"Well, when Jor gets up, you can pick her brain as much as you'd like." Hopefully, the kid remembered their talk from the day before and didn't pester Corbin into buying her followers subscriptions. "I wasn't sure what you liked to eat for breakfast, so I just made more cinnamon rolls." She gestured to the cloche. "But if you're sick of them, please tell me."

"I don't think I'll be sick of them for a while," he told her, lifting the lid with a grin.

Where was he putting them all? Autumn wondered, passing him a plate. "Coffee?"

"Please."

As Autumn prepped the Keurig, she pulled out pots and pans and arranged them on the counter. It was a little dance that she'd perfected over the years—staying in motion got things done quicker. It also kept her from overthinking everything.

"Go ahead and eat," she urged when she saw that Corbin hadn't touched the rolls. "I nibble as I go." She had some leftover blueberry muffins from a few days ago that needed to be finished up. Jordyn hated blueberries.

"Are you certain that I'm not distracting you?"

She was saved from that rather loaded question by her daughter. Jordyn tromped down the stairs, still in her pajamas, her thick, curly hair tied up in a bun. In one hand was her phone; in the other, her drawing tablet.

"Hey there," the teenager greeted Corbin, plopping onto a stool next to him. She set both devices down in front of her. "I don't think we've formally met. I'm Jordyn." She stuck out a hand, which Corbin promptly shook.

"It's nice to meet you, Jordyn. I'm Corbin."

Autumn stood back from the counter, one hand cupping her chin. That kid never voluntarily got up early during the summer.

"You're up early," Autumn remarked casually.

Jordyn shrugged. "Only did one game last night. And besides, did you think I'd sleep through this?" She gestured at Corbin, whose eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Your mother said that you play video games online?"

Autumn smiled and rolled her eyes. Corbin had released the hounds. Taking advantage of the opportunity provided by her daughter, she grabbed Corbin's coffee, laid it in front of him, and began working on the red velvet cake pops.

"I do!" Jordyn picked up her tablet, powered it on, and flicked through a few images. "I also make my own thumbnails."

"May I?" Corbin asked, reaching for the tablet.

"Sure."

"I paint, you know," he said, looking at Jordyn's work.

Autumn paused and cocked her head, one hand in the container of dried blood.

"Oh? What?" Jordyn reached for one of the cinnamon rolls and popped it, whole, into her mouth.

"Landscapes, wild animals."

"Oh, like Bob Ross."

Corbin laughed. "Yes, just like Bob Ross."

Autumn turned her head away to hide a smile as she measured out the dried blood and poured it into a large mixing bowl.

"I see that you favor a vibrant color palette with a cartoony style," he continued, examining one of the thumbnails more closely. "What does this anthropomorphic blue skunk represent?"

Jordyn grinned. "That's my avatar. Mom used to call me 'Stinky' all the time as a kid because, well, I farted a lot. I don't anymore," she added hastily as Autumn choked on her own spit.

Corbin chuckled politely. "I won't comment on that."

"So," Jordyn said, shifting on the stool, "do you have any tips for me? I'm afraid they might be too generic."

"Well, let's see. Do you have any scrap paper?"

Jordyn hopped off the stool. "I'll see if I can find some." She ran up the stairs and disappeared into her room.

Autumn set the bowl of rehydrated blood on the counter. "Thank you," she told Corbin.

"For what?" he asked, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll.

"For helping her. That's really kind of you."

He shrugged. "I see a budding artist and I just want to help. She is very good for her age, you know."

"I know. I used to doodle all the time as a kid. I'm glad that she's got a better eye than I do."

Within moments, Jordyn thundered back down the stairs with a handful of paper and some pencils. "Here," she said, plunking down on the stool.

Corbin picked up a pencil and angled a sheet of paper in front of him. "Okay, let's see what we've got here ..."

Smiling to herself, Autumn returned to baking. She'd never had concerns about how men would react around her kid and vice versa because she didn't have any intention of dating. But here was Corbin, sitting easy as you please at the counter, a sticky roll in one hand and a pencil in the other, going over color theory, blocking, and perspective with Jordyn as if they did this all the time.

For the first time since Jared broke her heart, the barriers Autumn had thrown up as protection began to lower. Corbin was attractive and rich, but he also appeared to be genuine and kind. Please don't be too good to be true, she prayed as she filled the cake pop tray with batter.

An hour later, Corbin's cell phone rang. Frowning, he pulled it out and grimaced at the name on the display. "I'm afraid that I have to go," he announced, standing up.

Autumn set the piping bag she'd been using on the cake pops on the counter. "I'm sure it's important."

"I wish it wasn't," he muttered. Turning to Jordyn, he pointed at one of the sketches they'd been working on. "Continue with this exercise; see how the technique I taught you feels. Then we can move onto its digital application."

"Sure!" Jordyn replied, gathering the papers towards her. "I really appreciate this, Mr Westbrook."

"Corbin," he told her gently. Turning to Autumn, he said, "Perhaps tomorrow?"

"You know where to find me," she said. "Oh, and don't forget to take these with you. I need to know what you think." She passed him a plate with a dozen red velvet cake pops on it.

"I will," he replied, accepting the plate. Nodding to the two women, Corbin left the cottage.

Autumn watched him go; when the door closed, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Already, the room felt different without Corbin in it. And strangely, she missed his presence.

"Mom?"

Autumn looked at her daughter. "Yes?"

"You have to keep him."

Laughing softly, Autumn gathered up the dirty bowls and pans and began loading them into the dishwasher. "We'll see," she said. For now, she had lemon cookies to bake.