《Broken Hero》


 Chapter 1

    I don¡¯t have time for Lucy Rhodes.


    I¡¯m a former Marine, a ranch owner, and if my sister¡¯s to be believed, a hermit. Since I returned to my small home town, I¡¯ve spent every waking moment turning my family¡¯s ranch into a hotel. The absolutest thing I need is a blondeplication.


    But then little Lucy Rhodeses to town for the summer. She¡¯s running from demons of her own, and somehow, she runs straight into me.


    She awakens something in me that I thought gone.


    She¡¯s young and beautiful, sure, but it¡¯s more than that. She doesn¡¯t look at me like I¡¯m damaged. She listens when I speak, and when she opens up to me, I know I want to spend my life protecting her.


    But as we grow closer, one thing feels inevitable¡­ I¡¯m going to let her down somehow, just like I¡¯ve let everyone in this town down. I don¡¯t know how to be the man she deserves.


    I¡¯m not the man I once was.


    ****


    Lucy


    ¡°Next stop, remont!¡±


    I watch through the window as the town rolls into view. Two-story houses and tree-lined streets, an iron-wroughtmppost on every street corner. I haven¡¯t been back here for years-not since I was a teenager. But it looks just like I remember. Just as small, just as cute, and just as empty.


    I shoulder my heavy bag and make my way off the bus. Everything I own is in it; my whole life. In the span of a few weeks, I¡¯ve gone from a woman with a boyfriend, friends, a job, and an apartment, to a woman with nothing. It¡¯s not an attractive look for a woman who¡¯s nearly twenty-five. The only part I can focus on for the moment is the no job part. I need to find one, ASAP.


    ¡°Luce!¡±


    I spot my aunt and uncle immediately-they¡¯re the only ones waiting by the deste bus stop. My throat closes as I see them. Auntie ire is as rosy-cheeked as ever, wrapped snugly in one of her rainbow-colored ponchos. Uncle Phil is waving so vigorously that the watch on his arm is twisting with every movement. Oh, how I¡¯ve missed them.


    ireughs when I tell her. ¡°We¡¯ve missed you too, sweetie. And we¡¯re so happy you¡¯re back.¡±


    Her drawl is achingly familiar and more pronounced than my own. Nearly six years away in the big city does that to you, not to mention a boyfriend who used to mock it when he¡¯d been drinking. I had tried to fit in real fast after that.


    Uncle Phil hoists my bag into the back of their small van, and we¡¯re off through the quiet little town.


    ¡°remont looks pretty much the same.¡±


    Phil snorts from the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Don¡¯t let appearances fool you. The old pharmacy on Fourth Street and Maple has closed. It went right out of business.¡±


    ¡°And there¡¯s a new bird-watching society visiting,¡± ire adds. ¡°There is some sort of warbler in these parts, hasn¡¯t been seen for a hundred years, and it¡¯s thrown the Ornithological Society into a tizzy.¡±


    Phil taps the steering wheel. ¡°A sparrow. It was a sparrow.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, that¡¯s right. It was a sparrow.¡±


    I grin. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s quite a discovery.¡±


    ¡°It was featured in National Geographic,¡± Phil says proudly.


    ¡°Are you hungry, dear? You must be hungry.¡±


    ¡°A little. It was a long bus ride.¡±


    ¡°Just as well, then. Let¡¯s drop off your things at the studio and then we¡¯ll grab something to eat. How about Ricky¡¯s? Do you still remember that old ce?¡±


    I lean in between the front seats. ¡°How could anyone who has ever spent a day in remont forget about Ricky¡¯s?¡±


    Phil chuckles. ¡°Quite right.¡±


    ¡°Is it still the town hotspot?¡±


    ¡°Oh, even more,¡± ire says. ¡°They¡¯ve expanded the menu. You¡¯ll see.¡±


    Phil parks the van outside the bakery. The hand-carved wooden sign is still as beautiful as it was thest time I saw it, nearly five years ago. By the Rhode. It took me a while to figure out the pun when I was a kid. Located right by Main Street, owned and operated by ire and Phil Rhodes¡­ Typical of Uncle Phil¡¯s humor, and the kind of inside joke only people in this town would appreciate.


    The window disys are full of cookies. There are sugar cookies decorated with colorful icing, cupcakes with borate frosting, and of course-their signature chocte chip cookies. They¡¯re massive and always stuffed with whatever Auntie ire fancied that day. Peanut butter cups¡­ coconut kes¡­ toffee¡­ pieces of candied apple. They¡¯re legendary.


    ¡°I¡¯ve missed this ce.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s missed you.¡± Phil grins. ¡°Come on, Luce. You have to check out the studio.¡±


    The bakery smells the same; sugar and flour, vani and chocte. It¡¯s the apple of my aunt and uncle¡¯s eye and the beating heart of this town. The morning rush for my uncle¡¯s donuts-he only makes them once a week-is out of this world.


    ire leads the way up the narrow stairs at the back. ¡°We finished this just a month ago. You¡¯ll be the first to stay here. Isn¡¯t it perfect? A Rhodes girl actually staying in By the Rhode¡­ fancy that!¡±


    ¡°Thanks again for helping me out like this. I honestly don¡¯t know what I¡¯d-¡±


    ire cuts me off. ¡°Sweetie, don¡¯t you worry about a thing. That¡¯s what family is for. Besides, your uncle and I are just so happy to have you here with us for a while. You¡¯re wee to stay for as long as you need.¡±


    My throat tightens again. She¡¯s so like my mother in that moment, the same almond-shaped eyes, the same kind smile. There¡¯s some grey in her hair now, a few wrinkles around the eyes, but if anything, it¡¯s only made her more beautiful. I spent some of the best summers of my life here, in this small town, with her-far away from my own loving but busy parents.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I whisper.


    She squeezes my arm. ¡°Come now, honey. Let¡¯s get you settled so we can go get some food.¡±


    The small attic is hardly recognizable. The dusty corners where I remember ying with my cousins, chasing them around bags of flour and old sieves, are gone. It¡¯s a transformation worthy of an HGTV show. There¡¯s even white-stained ship on the walls. I know of at least one interior design specialist who would be very proud.


    ire sits down on the small sofa. ¡°What do you think, Luce?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s perfect. It¡¯s so pretty. Did you and Phil really do all this?¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    ¡°We had some help, of course. Gavin from the hardware store helped with the railing over there, and Oliver kindly donated some wood fromst year¡¯s batch of trees, when they cleared areas of the ranch. And-¡±


    Iugh. ¡°Okay, okay. I remember this ¡®it takes a vige¡¯ mentality. If I let you continue, you¡¯ll be citing the woman at the grocery store for her invaluable services.¡±


    ire smiles. ¡°It does take a vige. I know that a ton of them will be happy to see you again.¡±


    ¡°Auntie, I imagine half of them don¡¯t even remember me.¡±


    ¡°Of course they do! Phil and I talk about you all the time, so they could hardly forget, even if they wanted to.¡±

 Chapter 2

    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes. The Lucy cookie sells like hotcakes.¡±


    My stomach decides that it¡¯s waited long enough and lets out a loud grumble. ire smiles and takes my bag, setting it down gently. ¡°This studio isn¡¯t big, and it¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s yours for as long as you need it.¡±


    I pull her into another hug. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She smells of vani and pistachio. ¡°You¡¯ll get back on your feet soon enough, don¡¯t you worry. We Rhodes don¡¯t give up easily. Now, let¡¯s go to Ricky¡¯s before your stomach decides to eat itself.¡±


    The drive to Ricky¡¯s takes exactly three and a half minutes, despite Uncle Phil saying that it is all the way across town. The realization makes me smile. There are no hidden areas in remont, no ces you can get lost in. Things are predictable¡­ safe.


    Phil throws an arm around my shoulders as we walk in. ¡°Does it look the same?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It hasn¡¯t changed at all.¡±


    The same neon sign is up, the same homey booths and oversized menus. Only Ricky¡¯s can manage to have a menu of nearly forty main dishes, all made up of different variations of the same ingredients. I know what I want-I want chicken fried steak, I want mashed potatoes, and I want a side of cornbread. It¡¯s home in a meal and just what I need.


    But as I scan the menu, I spot something odd. ¡°The Morris special? I¡¯ve never heard of that before. Is that a local dish?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. That¡¯s for young Oliver Morris.¡±


    ¡°Not so young anymore,¡± Phil points out. ¡°The boy has to be at least thirty-five.¡±


    I smile into my ice tea. ¡°So not technically a boy then?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s certainly not a boy, and he¡¯s not thirty-five either, Phil. Not a day over thirty-three, I¡¯d reckon. I used to bake his birthday cakes when he was a child, so I would know.¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    Phil shoots me an amused nce and I look away to hide my smile. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re right, Auntie. Who is he?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s the old mayor¡¯s son. yed varsity basketball at the nearby college. Was quite the star. Surely you remember him from when you were here during the summers?¡±


    I open my mouth to reply, but Phil beats me to it. ¡°He was one hell of a yer. Could probably have gone pro, but he wanted to stay close to home.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never had the pleasure. But then, I was only here for a few weeks every summer, and it was a long time ago.¡±


    ire snaps her fingers. ¡°That¡¯s it! Oliver would have been in the Army when you were here. He enlisted right out of college.¡±


    ¡°The Marines,¡± Phil corrects.


    ¡°Oh yes, that¡¯s right. Well, he¡¯s back now.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s turned the old Morris Ranch into a bed and breakfast. Has a standing order with the bakery. A stand-up fellow, Oliver.¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s a great guy, but why does he have a special on the menu at Ricky¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°To honor him, of course! Ricky put that on the menu the second Oliver shipped out for his first posting.¡±


    I look down at the description of the Morris special. It¡¯s¡­ interesting, to say the least. ¡°And, um, is it a best-seller?¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve had it.¡± Phil reads it over. ¡°I think I¡¯ll go for it tonight, actually. Why not?¡±


    I grin. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see this.¡±


    We spend nearly ten minutes talking to the waiter-who ire used to babysit ten years ago-and I have to wave hello to both chefs in the kitchen. It¡¯s simultaneously oppressive, this everyone-knows-everyone environment, and incredibly reassuring. It¡¯s aplete 180 from my life in Das.


    Phil and ire make it nearly half-way through dinner before they broach the topic carefully. I know my mom has already filled them in on a few of the gorier details, but I know I¡¯ll have to face the facts soon enough.


    ¡°Honey, you know we want you here. You¡¯re wee to stay for as long as you need, and there¡¯s always work for you in the bakery.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. It¡¯s been a long time since I was behind a counter.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like riding a bike,¡± ire says. ¡°You never forget how.¡±


    ¡°How about you take tomorrow to settle in, and then you can do a morning shift the day after?¡±


    ¡°That sounds great. Honestly, I¡¯m excited to get back.¡±


    Phil clears his throat. ¡°What happened, Luce? I thought Das was everything you needed.¡±


    ¡°It was, for a while. But then¡­ things changed. My work changed and I couldn¡¯t stay there anymore. I broke up with Kyle, and I wanted to get away.¡±


    Both my aunt and uncle look pleased with thest bit of information, proving what I¡¯d really known for months but been hiding from-he was aplete deadbeat. Word of advice; when your family doesn¡¯t like the guy you¡¯re dating, run, don¡¯t walk.


    ¡°I wanted to get away and rethink things. On where I should go from here.¡± I shrug. ¡°Get some fresh perspective.¡±


    They must sense that there¡¯s more to it, that I¡¯m not saying everything, but they just give me the same, kind smile as always. The concern in Phil¡¯s eyes twists my heart.


    ¡°Take all the time you need, sweetie.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. And while I¡¯m in remont, I was thinking of maybe taking on some clients? In case there are any?¡±


    ire nods. ¡°I can think of a couple of people that might be interested, off the top of my head. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s work for you here too.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I can put up some posters tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°You do that. You¡¯ll be back on your feet in no time, you¡¯ll see.¡±


    I smile at them both and feel more optimistic than I have in weeks. There¡¯s a waiter who knows my name, a small studio above a bakery, and family who cares. And the best ice tea in America.


    I¡¯ll be alright.


    Oliver


    I¡¯ve employed idiots. Idiots who can¡¯t use a wrench, who can¡¯t work as a team, and who can¡¯t seem to concentrate. If it¡¯s too early in the morning, they¡¯re too tired. If it¡¯s too close to lunch, they¡¯re too hungry. Too soon after lunch? Well, then they¡¯re too full.


    Idiots.


    ¡°Boss, I think it¡¯s stuck.¡± Tim runs a hand across his forehead. It¡¯s a warm day in remont, and it¡¯s not even June yet.

 Chapter 3

    ¡°No shit,¡± I sigh. ¡°Are the boards still in ce?¡±


    Tim drops to his knees to check. The heavy rainfallst night turned a whole section of the ranch¡¯s parking area into mud, and one of the four-wheelers is stuck. The n is to pull it out with my truck, but we¡¯ve been at it for nearly thirty minutes and it¡¯s not budging.N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re in ce, but they don¡¯t seem to help.¡±


    Jack clears his throat from his spot in the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Maybe we could leave it? The sun will dry the mud in time and we can crack it.¡±


    My jaw clenches. ¡°It¡¯s in the middle of the parking area. We have a major reservation for tomorrow. Where will the guests park?¡±


    He gives a chagrined smile. ¡°You¡¯re right. Sorry, boss.¡±


    I take another deep breath and force myself to be calm, to focus on problem-solving and solutions. It used to be easy-effortless, even-to pull out the leader side of me. It¡¯s a side that once led a group of soldiers into battle. I might take orders well, but I¡¯m usually better at issuing them. Nearly a decade in the Marines will do that to you.


    ¡°Jack, I want you to elerate-slowly!-when I say so. We need to put the boards in ce by the front tires. I¡¯ll get back in the truck and tow. Listen for mymand, Jack.¡±


    He nods. After a bit of maneuvering and the loud growl of the truck¡¯s engine, the four-wheeler slowly makes its way out of the mud hole. It¡¯ll need a good wash and some care, as will we, but the gravel parking lot is at least cleared.


    I disconnect my truck from the four-wheeler with quick, experienced tugs. ¡°See if you can cover the worst of the mud with a few bags of gravel, if we have any left. We can¡¯t have this happen to a guest¡¯s car.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re on it.¡±


    Jack jumps off of the four-wheeler and pretends to give me a little salute. I roll my eyes at him, but he¡¯s ultimately a good kid. His mother is one of the elementary school teachers, and he¡¯s spending the summer as my farmhand before his senior year picks up in the fall. It¡¯s be somewhat of a rite of passage in town now, spending the summer working up at my ranch.


    I don¡¯t mind-I need thebor. Morris Ranch and Retreat employs nearly twelve people, and I have ns to expand. My family¡¯s ranch has more acres than I know what to do with and some of the most beautiful horse-riding trails in the region.


    I hear a car pull up behind us. The sound of the engine is familiar, as is the chipper voice that rings out across the parking lot.


    ¡°Ollie, there you are! Oh, hi boys. How are you today?¡±


    ¡°All good, Mrs. McKinley.¡±


    ¡°Christ, Tim, call me Sarah. I¡¯ve known you since you were a toddler.¡±


    Tim blushes at my sister¡¯sment and ducks his head. At some point, most of the young farmhands I hire have a crush on her, which, true to Sarah-fashion, she is always entirely oblivious of. Not that she¡¯d care-a happy marriage and two small children does that to you. She still works part-time at the Ranch,muting from her house in town.


    ¡°Hey.¡± I grab the grocery bag she¡¯s carrying and we head towards the main house. ¡°What¡¯s up? How did the meeting with the chef go? Any potential?¡±


    She sighs. ¡°Not that great. I thought we were on to something.¡±


    ¡°He did im to be specialized in Peruvian fusion.¡±


    Sarah shoots me an annoyed nce. ¡°But on the phone, he said he could cook Southern food too. Well¡­ he did, but he couldn¡¯t resist spicing it up.¡±


    ¡°In a bad way?¡±


    ¡°He put ceviche on a cheeseburger.¡±


    ¡°Ceviche?¡±


    ¡°Raw fish.¡± She gives a dramatic shiver. ¡°It was the single most disgusting thing I¡¯ve ever had.¡±


    I can¡¯t help it-Iugh.


    Sarah hits me on the arm. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare say I told you so, Ollie.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t. I¡¯m just happy you¡¯re the one interviewing the chefs and not me.¡±


    She holds the door open for me as I carry the grocery bags inside. We both nod at Mandy, the receptionist, sitting idly behind the desk, and head into the staff kitchen.


    ¡°Only because you¡¯d scare them away.¡±


    I scoff. ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°Honestly, you would. You justughed, and that was the first time I¡¯ve heard you do that in a month.¡±


    I put the groceries down on the kitchen ind. ¡°Iugh,¡± I protest. ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t scare them away. It¡¯s their job to impress us, that¡¯s all.¡±


    She rolls her eyes and begins to unpack the bags. ¡°Right.¡±


    Sarah reveals new cemats for the dining-room and golden napkin holders. My sister might be a tad entric, but there is no denying that she¡¯s needed here. Left to me, the ce would look¡­sparse. I know my limits, and design is one of them.


    I decide to change the subject. I can¡¯t deal with another one of Sarah¡¯s you-need-to-live-life-to-the-fullest tirades. She has given them periodically ever since I got back stateside.


    ¡°I looked over the booking for tomorrow. Nearly seventeen guests all in all. It¡¯s the most we¡¯ve ever had, outside of wedding season.¡±


    ¡°And all thanks to that bird! We should make it the ranch¡¯s mascot.¡±


    ¡°I got us listed on the National Ornithological Society¡¯s website for bird-watching friendly hotels.¡±


    Her eyes widen. ¡°That is not a real thing.¡±


    ¡°Believe it or not, it is. I don¡¯t care why theye here, as long as it keeps bringing in the money.¡±


    She snorts. ¡°Dad would be proud.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re bringing jobs and tourism to themunity. As far as I¡¯m concerned, we¡¯re honoring their legacy just fine.¡±


    Her eyes soften. ¡°We are. You are. I didn¡¯t mean it like that.¡±


    I look out the window. Jack and Tim are working side by side, and as I watch, Jack throws his head back andughs at something Tim said. ¡°I know.¡±


    Sarah clears her throat. ¡°Do you want to hear thetest town gossip?¡±


    ¡°I think you can¡¯t wait to tell me.¡±


    ¡°The Rhodes¡¯ niece is in town.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating.¡±

 Chapter 4

    ¡°And apparently she¡¯s going to be staying for a while. I heard it from Mrs. Masters, who heard it from the barber, who heard it from Phil Rhodes himself.¡±


    ¡°This is truly riveting.¡±


    The Rhodes have talked loud and often about their extended family for years. Hell, several of the cookies in their store are named after their favorites. There¡¯s a sugar cookie shaped like a diamond that¡¯s called Lucy, from the old song about Lucy in the sky. When ire Rhodes exined the connection to me once, I had to stop myself from pointing out that the song was really about LSD.


    Sarah shoots me an exasperated nce. ¡°Mock me all you like, but if I don¡¯t keep you updated on this town you¡¯ll be a hermit. I keep you informed.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I like being a hermit.¡±


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t. Besides, John and I have a n to change that.¡± Her tone is firm, and despite being nearly ten inches shorter than me, I know my sister has a will of steel.


    It frequently shed with my own.


    I put my hands on the kitchen ind and brace myself for a Morris show-down. ¡°What ns, Sarah?¡±


    ¡°John has a co-worker over in Huntersville who is thirty-two, newly single, and has a great sense of humor. I¡¯ve met her and she¡¯s just lovely.¡±


    ¡°Dear God, not this again.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve already spoken to her and she¡¯d be willing to meet you. How about a double date on Saturday? I know you¡¯re not busy. You¡¯re never busy.¡±


    ¡°Sarah,¡± I say. ¡°I¡¯m not interested, and I won¡¯t go on any blind dates.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you will. You¡¯ve been alone for far too long.¡±


    ¡°My dating life is none of your business.¡±


    ¡°Your well-being is,¡± she fires back.


    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly fine.¡±


    Sarah raises an eyebrow, like she¡¯s calling my bullshit, and it only makes me angrier. ¡°What do you want? A list of the women I¡¯ve gone out with in the past four years? What will it take for you to back off?¡±


    She scoffs. ¡°A list with a couple of crappy one-night-stands with suppliers or former receptionists won¡¯t sway me. It doesn¡¯t count.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not having this discussion with you. Period.¡±


    ¡°Fine, then don¡¯t. But I know you, Ollie. You¡¯re not meant to live alone. You never used to, not¡­¡±


    The word she doesn¡¯t want to say hangs in the air between us. Before.


    ¡°Yeah, well, things change.¡±


    ¡°Which means they can change again.¡± Her voice is just as steely as mine, and she pats my shoulder as she passes by. ¡°At least think on it, okay?¡±


    The door closes behind her and I¡¯m left alone with my anger. Somehow, she can make me just as irritated as she did as a child.


    I¡¯m not rtionship material. Maybe I was once upon a time, but I¡¯m not anymore. I don¡¯t have the patience or the skills necessary for it. Painful conversations during awkward first dates¡­ Having to handle the expectation that I¡¯m supposed to be charming or entertaining. It¡¯s not for me.


    I¡¯ve wondered more than once if you can ever truly adjust to civilian life-if the paradigm of war ever leaves you. And the memories, all the things I¡¯d seen. Will they ever go away? When I brought up the subject with my sister, she nched. ¡°You¡¯re home now,¡± Sarah said. ¡°That¡¯s all that matters.¡±


    I suppose it was all that mattered, even if it didn¡¯t always feel that way.


    I grab a drink from the staff fridge and head upstairs to my office. It¡¯s where I spend most of my time, and where I can avoid both the staff and the guests. Our frequent five-star ratings for customer service would drop considerably if I was forced to interact with people.


    Austin lifts his head as I enter and his tail begins its familiar swish across the carpet.Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    ¡°Hi, buddy.¡± My hand gets lost in his thick coat, his ck-and-white markings distinct. ¡°Have you been guarding my office?¡±


    He looks up at me with brown eyes, as if to say what else was I supposed to do? The border collie has been by my side since the first day I got him, nearly four years ago.


    ¡°Good boy.¡±


    My email inbox has filled up, just in the short amount of time I worked outside. Business is truly picking up after a couple of sluggish years and it¡¯s showing. Both Sarah and I work longer hours, and we are hiring new people every couple of months. But it took a lot of work to get us here. Being a business-owner was as tough a fight as any I¡¯d battled, although there was considerably less risk to my health.


    There¡¯s an email from Phil Rhodes, who delivers the bread to us every morning. I groan as I read it. He has business out of town tomorrow and wonders if we can pick-up instead. It has to be early though, I¡¯m thinking. We need the goods before breakfast starts for all those birdwatchers.


    I run through the list of employees, trying to find someone who can do it. But I quickly give up and type back a reply. I¡¯ll be there. Getting up early isn¡¯t a chore these days-I barely sleep through the night as it is. Besides, if you want something done properly, and on time, you¡¯re better off just doing it yourself. Sarah might think I¡¯m a hermit, but I¡¯ve learned my lesson.


    You¡¯re stronger alone.


    ire and Phil, in their usual fashion, have been hard at work since the early hours of the morning. I heard them working from my studio upstairs andid awake for a while, listening to the familiar sounds. The scent of newly baked goods-of rye bread and French loaves, of muffins and brown butter toffee cookies-climbed up the stairs until I couldn¡¯t stand it any longer. I crept downstairs to help out a bit with baking, but mostly to eat any of the imperfect ones.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re OK with this?¡± ire asked me as I munched away on a blueberry muffin.


    I hadn¡¯t worked in the bakery since I was sixteen. I¡¯d never worked there alone before either, but I¡¯m not one to back down from a challenge. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. You¡¯ve given me the full run-down twice, and I won¡¯t be baking or making anything. Just handling the cash register and front desk.¡±


    ¡°ire, she¡¯ll do just fine!¡± Phil is waiting by the door, a heavy-looking crate in hand. ¡°You forget that she¡¯s spent years working in the big city. And we¡¯ll only be a phone call away.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± she tells me. ¡°I won¡¯t put my phone on silent, not even during the meeting.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Auntie, but I promise I have it under control. Now go, or you¡¯ll bete.¡±


    She gives me a final worried nce, but Phil shoots me a thumbs up behind her back. The door closes behind them and they¡¯re off, away to a meeting with a potential distributor. Someone passing through town had gotten a taste for their famous cookies and wanted to buy the recipe for national distribution. There was no way they weren¡¯t going to take this chance, and I told them so.


    The store is quiet in their absence. It¡¯s still early, the sun just about to rise, and the ce smells heady from yeast and bread. I look around at the homely environment, this little nest of heaven. It feels like just yesterday that I spent my summer days here. As if the past months of hardship are washed away, and I¡¯m once again young, and hopeful, and happy.


    ¡°I love this,¡± I say out loud. ¡°I love this ce.¡±


    The bakery doesn¡¯t say anything back, but I feel better for having told it all the same.


    It¡¯s nearly an hour until opening, so I sneak back into the kitchen. I can bake exactly one thing, and that¡¯s carrot cake. It doesn¡¯t take long to whip up the batter. My idea is brilliant-I¡¯ll use one of ire¡¯s fancy icing kits to decorate it. It¡¯ll be a surprise when my aunt and uncle get back, to celebrate their good fortune.


    I turn the radio on and sing along while I work. For the first time in a long while, I¡¯m just happy and enjoying the moment. The knot of unease in my stomach is slowlying undone. remont was the right decision.


    I¡¯ve just popped the cake into the oven when I hear a sharp knock on the store¡¯s front door. It¡¯s exactly eight o¡¯clock, and the bakery is officially open.

 Chapter 5

    ¡°Hello! Hi! I¡¯m so sorry, let me just unlock the door¡­¡± I twist the sign from closed to open. ¡°Wee!¡±


    A dignified olderdy steps in. I recognize her immediately-anyone who¡¯s spent five minutes in remont would.


    ¡°Mrs. Masters, it¡¯s great to see you again.¡±


    She blinks at me. ¡°Little Lucy Rhodes.¡±


    ¡°Not so little anymore,¡± I say with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ve grown up. What can I get you?¡±


    ¡°Phil told me you wereing back to stay for a while.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. I¡¯ve missed it here.¡±


    She pats her perfectly coiffed hair and looks me over from head to toe. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve alreadymitted at least five wrongs in her book. ¡°We¡¯re so happy to have you back, dear.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Do you have a standing order?¡±


    ¡°No. I came in to buy a loaf of banana bread, the ones ire makes so well. Do you have any today?¡±N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    ¡°Yes, we do. Let me get that for you right away.¡±


    She watches my every movement as I package the bread, the silence thick. Mrs. Masters is the staunch matriarch of this town, a gossipy olddy with very strict ideas of right and wrong. Aunt ire is both in awe of her and absolutely terrified-an emotion I share.


    ¡°What do you do now, Lucy Rhodes?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m packaging your banana bread.¡±


    She doesn¡¯t appreciate myme attempt at deflection. ¡°Back in Das.¡±


    I square my shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m a massage therapist.¡±


    Her eyes widen. ¡°A masseuse?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m licensed to rehabilitate injuries, relieve muscle pain, sports massage and deep tissue¡­ the works.¡±


    Mrs. Masters¡¯ silence is more telling than any words. ¡°I see,¡± she says finally. ¡°That¡¯s great.¡±


    ¡°I think so, yes. I enjoy it. Here¡¯s the bread.¡±


    She hands me exact change-down to the cent-and gives me a tight-lipped smile. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to see you at church this weekend, if you¡¯re still here then.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Mrs. Masters. I¡¯ll see if I can swing by.¡±


    She stops by the door. ¡°You do that.¡±


    The door swings shut behind her, the small bell attached jingling gayly. I release the breath I¡¯ve been holding. It¡¯s the reaction I was expecting, the same reaction I got in my own hometown when I first started. No matter how much I exin and justify, people¡¯s reactions around these parts tend to be¡­ negative. To be a massage therapist is not a proper profession-and it¡¯s certainly not a respectable one.


    I¡¯ve tried to exin the positive health benefits of self-care and of not having knotted muscles. Of working through sports injuries or hurt muscles. Health is a holistic endeavor. I actively chose this profession.


    But no. They hear masseuse and they hear happy ending.


    And if anyone in remont were to find out why I was let go at myst job and why I had to flee here¡­ it¡¯s too terrible to think of. So, I decide I won¡¯t tell them, at least not right now. I turn up the volume on the radio and set to work on the frosting for my cake. The town is small and I can¡¯t imagine there¡¯ll be another customer for a good long while.


    I¡¯m halfway through a not-so-sessful attempt at creating a carrot out of frosting when the little bell by the door rings again.


    ¡°Just one moment!¡± I wipe at the flour and frosting covering my apron. Instead of making me look presentable, I¡¯m now entirely covered. I look like I¡¯ve just taken a tumble in a mix of batter. Well then. I¡¯ll just have to look ipetent-at least it¡¯ll be an honest representation.


    I turn the corner and put on a big, serviceable smile. ¡°Hi, there!¡±


    The customer has his back to me, looking at a disy of borately decorated cupcakes. A rugged jacket is pulled snug across wide shoulders, thick golden hair tousled on his head. He¡¯s big. That¡¯s my first impression-he¡¯s tall and wide and takes up a lot of space in this small bakery.


    ¡°Did you make these, ire?¡±


    His voice is deep, too. Calm andmanding. ¡°ire did make those, yes. But I¡¯m not her.¡±


    He turns. Cheekbones. Five o¡¯clock shadow. A pair of dark blue eyes look me over. His expression is mildly disapproving, a frown turning down the corners of a wide mouth. ¡°No, you¡¯re clearly not.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m her niece, Lucy. I¡¯m helping out here for a bit. I¡¯m actually from-¡±


    ¡°I know who you are.¡±


    Well then. I shoot him an apologetic smile. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. Are you from around here?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The man was impossible. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    His eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly. ¡°Oliver Morris.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Morris of the Morris special!¡± I extend a hand covered in flour across the counter. ¡°Sorry about the mess. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. I¡¯ve heard a lot about you, too.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you have.¡± He sounds displeased at the notion and regards my outstretched hand for a moment before he shakes it. His hand nearly engulfs mine, fingers rough and warm against my skin.


    ¡°Can I help you with anything?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Can you?¡±


    It takes me a moment to realize he¡¯s looking pointedly at the mixture of cake batter and frosting sttered across my apron. It¡¯s such an ungentlemanly thing to point out that I just blink at him.


    He raises an eyebrow.


    ¡°Um, I think so, but it depends on what you need. If you¡¯re here to order a three-tier wedding cake ready on the double, then no. But I¡¯m great at packaging cookies.¡± I put on my usually winning smile and meet his gaze head-on. Oliver Morris might be the most ruggedly attractive man I¡¯ve seen in years, but I won¡¯t be intimidated by power tactics. I¡¯ve faced worse.


    He seems unfazed by my smile. ¡°I¡¯m here to pick up a standing order for the Ranch. It should be in your logs.¡±


    ¡°What is it exactly?¡±


    ¡°The Ranch orders daily bread rolls and loaves. I send the orders a week in advance to Phil.¡±

 Chapter 6

    I flip through the small ck book next to the register. ¡°And youe to pick them up daily? I thought my uncle delivered?¡±


    Oliver¡¯s jaw tightens. ¡°I¡¯m here to pick them up myself today because of their meeting out of town.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Let me just find the logs. One moment, please.¡±


    My heart rate rises with every passing second as I search for the stic binder I¡¯ve seen Phil handle a million times before. It¡¯s nowhere to be found. An order thisrge must be recorded¡­ and it¡¯s done daily? To the Morris Ranch? They didn¡¯t mention before they left.


    Oliver is quiet, watching me search through the shelves behind the counter. His coiled impatience is palpable.


    ¡°I know the order by heart.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll find it!¡± I¡¯m pretty sure I won¡¯t. ¡°Let me just give my uncle a call, and we¡¯ll have this sorted out in no- Hey!¡±


    Oliver opens the counter hatch. ¡°Twenty-eight whole-wheat rolls, thirty white ones. Two trays of cornbread.¡±


    He strides through the back door and into the kitchen, but I¡¯m right behind him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you can¡¯t go in there!¡±


    He keeps on walking.


    Up close, it¡¯s striking just how tall he is, and so broad across the shoulders. If he felt too big for the bakery, he¡¯s definitely too big for Phil and ire¡¯s little kitchen.


    ¡°Look, sir, I¡¯m sorry about not being prepared for your order, truly. But I can¡¯t have you in the kitchen.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± He doesn¡¯t even look at me.


    ¡°There are rules about this sort of thing. Health codes, and¡­and¡­ I¡¯m sure we¡¯re viting a dozen regtions right now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Will you please get out of the kitchen? I¡¯ll make sure you get your order.¡±


    ¡°Lucy.¡±


    ¡°Um, yes?¡±


    ¡°This is what you were looking for.¡± He hands me a handwritten note. I read it once, twice, trying to make sense of Phil¡¯s scribble as Oliver bends to lift a stack of bread crates. My uncle had very clearly set them aside beside the refrigerators, the note pinned on top.


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Oliver lifts all the crates at once. ¡°They were hidden in the back. Nothing to be ashamed about.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not ashamed. I would have found your order in due time.¡±


    I see his lips twitch, but he doesn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°I can help carry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±


    I follow him in silence as he strides out of the kitchen and through the open counter hatch. His arms bulge around the heavy weight he¡¯s carrying, his legs long and strong. There¡¯s so much of him.


    I open the front door for him and follow him out onto the sidewalk, because how could I not? The man has a dish named after him. He¡¯s a legend, apparently.Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    Oliver sets the crates down carefully next to the pickup truck parked outside and opens the passenger seat.


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of bread,¡± I say.


    ¡°Mhm.¡±


    ¡°So, this is for the bed and breakfast you run?¡±


    He starts loading the crates. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you get a lot of guests up there?¡±


    ¡°A fair bit.¡±


    I purse my lips at Mr. Monosybic. ¡°Are you always this talkative?¡±


    He doesn¡¯t even look at me. ¡°Are you always this interrogative?¡±


    ¡°Only when customers take it upon themselves to do my job for me.¡±


    Oliver looks at me over his shoulder. His eyes are filled with challenge, and briefly veiled¡­ contempt? Disappointment? I can¡¯t tell what he¡¯s feeling.


    ¡°Then don¡¯t give them a reason to,¡± he says.


    The nerve! I watch in silence as he walks around the truck to open the front door.


    ¡°The Morris special is terrible,¡± I blurt.


    He stops with a hand on the door. ¡°At Ricky¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±For several heartbeats, we just look at each other. I think I¡¯ve managed to surprise him. He¡¯s not looking away, and the weight of his blue gaze is heady.


    But then he smirks. It¡¯s a small smile, but it transforms his face and gives life to the otherwise Adonis-like face.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    He closes the door behind him and I watch as he drives away, disappearing down remont¡¯s Main Street and out of sight.


    The famous Lucy Morris, the diamond-in-the-sky Lucy, is a mess. A bbering, unorganized mess.


    I entertain myself the whole drive back to the ranch with thoughts of her. I bet she¡¯llst a week in remont and not a day more.


    I had paid very little attention to the Rhodes¡¯ descriptions of her, but whatever I had expected¡­ well, it wasn¡¯t that. Even frazzled and covered with cake mix, she was gorgeous. Blonde hair tied up with a few loose tendrils around her face. Quick eyes and a bee-stung mouth.


    If I hadn¡¯t been¡­ who I was now, I know exactly what I would have done. Offered to show her around town and give her a proper remont wee. But I¡¯m not rtionship material, and she¡¯s too young and too good for a man like me.

 Chapter 7

    Didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t appreciate beauty where I saw it-not to mention her mouth! I chuckle when I think of her parting words. The Morris special is terrible. It sure was-a terrible idea from the beginning.


    Back at the ranch, the birdwatchers have settled in without a hitch. I even hear Mandy downstairs in reception joke with them from my office. She tells some sort of bird joke and is rewarded with roaringughter. I can practically see the five-star reviews rolling in.


    That afternoon, I walk towards my house-one of the few buildings left not converted into housing for guests-with Austin winding his way between my legs.


    ¡°You¡¯re a clingy bastard, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    He looks up at me with adoring eyes, and I give him a pat on the head, right between two fluffy ears. ¡°Let¡¯s get you some food.¡±


    But the house isn¡¯t empty. Someone is whistling, out-of-tune and very loudly, from the kitchen.


    ¡°Sarah?¡±


    She doesn¡¯t reply, so I follow the scent of vani to the kitchen. Sarah is dressed in a frilly apron, dusting a tray of muffins with icing sugar. Her look of intense concentration dissolves into a giant smile as soon as she sees me.


    I¡¯m instantly suspicious.


    ¡°Hi, Oliver.¡±


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Why do you think I want something? I just felt like baking in this old kitchen again. Have a muffin.¡±


    I take a cautious step forward. ¡°You rarely have time for this. Where are the kids?¡±


    ¡°With their grandma. And I bake all the time.¡±


    ¡°You only ever bake when you need something.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡±


    I cross my arms across my chest. ¡°Yes, it is. When you were in seventh grade you made me blueberry pie and then asked me to do your biology homework.¡±


    ¡°Only because you were better at it than me. You¡¯d been in school longer!¡±


    ¡°I think it was banana bread when you borrowed my car, without asking, and managed to scratch the paint.¡±


    ¡°Coincidental.¡± Sarah slings a towel over her shoulder. ¡°I just like to experiment. And let¡¯s not rehash all those old incidents. It¡¯s water under the bridge.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± I take a seat on the stool by the kitchen ind and grab one of the raspberry-vani muffins. ¡°At least let me have a couple of bites before you hit me with the bad news.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have bad news!¡±


    I taste the still-warm muffin. I had to give it to her-they were great. But what I discover makes me even more suspicious. ¡°You even put pecans in them?¡±


    ¡°Am I the best baby sister or what?¡±


    ¡°Who did you kill and what evidence do I need to dispose of?¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    Sheughs. ¡°You¡¯re too suspicious for your own good.¡±


    ¡°Observant,¡± I correct. ¡°Well-trained.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not really a favor, anyway.¡± She slides into the chair opposite me and grabs a muffin of her own. ¡°It¡¯s more of a really, really, really good idea.¡±


    ¡°If the idea is truly that great, why do I need pastries to be convinced?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re resistant to change.¡±


    I suppress a sigh. ¡°Tell me.¡±


    ¡°Remember the new girl in town that I told you about the other day? The Rhodes¡¯ niece?¡±


    I give a nonmittal nod and reach for another muffin. Yes, I knew the Rhodes¡¯ niece, alright. The image of her shed before my eyes again. Slim and strong, with the eyes of a dreamer.


    ¡°I heard from Mrs. Masters that she just happens to be a massage therapist. That¡¯s what she was working with, back in Das.¡±


    ¡°A masseuse,¡± I repeat.


    ¡°A massage therapist.¡±


    ¡°Right. And what about it?¡± It was thest thing I had imagined Lucy to do for a living, but then again, she was clearly not a baker.


    ¡°Well, I was thinking¡­ we have that building out by the western field. The one with the red roof? It¡¯s very spacious.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s spacious because it¡¯s a reception hall. One that¡¯s in use.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯ve only had use for it twice in the past four years,¡± Sarah says excitedly. ¡°We don¡¯t need it for wedding receptions, either, because it¡¯s too secluded. I have a brilliant idea¡­ let¡¯s convert it into a wellness and spa area! All fancy retreats have them.¡±


    ¡°We already have a gym.¡±


    ¡°No, we have a depressing corner with two treadmills and a few weights. But imagine if we make it into a proper gym with a spa area. A massage room¡­ perhaps even a sauna? We could put the old hot tub right outside it, and then we¡¯d hire Lucy on an ad hoc basis for as long as she¡¯s in town! It¡¯s the perfect solution.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have a problem, so she¡¯s not a solution,¡± I grind out. ¡°The reception hall is useful.¡±


    ¡°But not as useful as a spa section would be. Imagine how good it would look in our advertising! Morris Ranch, Retreat and Spa. A ce to truly rx.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have enough guests for it.¡±


    ¡°Which is why it would work great to hire her as a consultant! She¡¯s already working at the bakery and would onlye up here when needed, whenever a guest books a massage treatment.¡±


    I go to the fridge and rummage around for a can of beer. As ideas go, it¡¯s not Sarah¡¯s worst. I might not be one for all that essential oil stuff, but I would have to be blind not to see the potential value-marily. The same people whoe out here to be close to nature, who want to ride the trails and pick their own strawberries, would also love a hot stone massage and a dip in the hot tub. It¡¯s exactly the kind of fancy shit that city folk pay top dor for.


    Sarah whoops in triumph behind me. ¡°You¡¯re silent. You¡¯re actually silent for once, Ollie. I know what that means. I win!¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t said yes.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re considering it! I can run some numbers if you like.¡±

 Chapter 8

    I roll my eyes. We both know crunching the numbers is my thing. ¡°I¡¯ll do it. But you haven¡¯t spoken to her yet, have you?¡±


    ¡°I popped into the bakery yesterday afternoon, but don¡¯t worry, I didn¡¯t ask her about it, of course. I only just thought of it this morning!¡±


    ¡°Hence, the muffins.¡±


    She puts her hand on her hips and shoots me a look so like Mom¡¯s that I have to smile. ¡°Don¡¯t be a wiseass.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°She seems like a genuinely sweet girl. We¡¯ve had business with her aunt and uncle for ages and they¡¯re nothing if not hard-working. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be the same.¡±


    I take a sip of my beer. ¡°What do we do with the space when she leaves?¡±Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    ¡°Why do you think she¡¯ll leave?¡±


    ¡°Sarah, how often have the Rhodes talked about their nieces and nephews?¡±


    She pouts. ¡°A few times.¡±


    ¡°Every time you buy something in their bakery. Lucy is the one with the dreams, the big city girl. I don¡¯t know why she¡¯s here, but she¡¯s not here to stay. And when she leaves, we¡¯ll be left with an area of the ranch we¡¯ve sunk money and time into but have no way of mizing.¡±


    ¡°We could employ someone else.¡±


    ¡°Who? This town is tiny.¡±


    She throws her hands up. ¡°We¡¯ll find someone! Bring someone in from out of town. If the facilities are here, then they¡¯re here-and we can take it from there.¡±


    I don¡¯t point out that her premise is wed. If a business operated like that, it wouldn¡¯t be operating for particrly long. But Sarah has always been more about the big picture stuff, the ideas. A walking Pinterest board, as she likes to refer to herself.


    She once called me an Excel sheet.


    I took it as apliment.


    ¡°Ollie, please just promise me that you¡¯ll think about it?¡±


    ¡°I promise.¡±


    I say it to humor her-I don¡¯t need to think about it for another second to know that it would be a terrible idea for Lucy Rhodes to spend time up here. It would mean I¡¯d have to interact with her again, deal with the mega-watt smile and the teasing. It would distract the men up here. Hell, it would distract me.


    Sarah resolutely packs the muffins away after I¡¯ve had my fifth and deres she¡¯ll share them with the farmhands. I tell her there¡¯s no need-they couldn¡¯t possibly love her more than they already do. Sarahughs as if it was a joke.


    I drive down to town that evening and head to the Red g to meet an old friend from out of town. It¡¯s the only ce in town open past dinner time where they¡¯ll serve you a beer. It¡¯s also one of the few ces I¡¯m not approached by random townspeople, all who have a story to share about my father or my sister or how they once read about me in the newspaper when I was still in active service.


    There are a few awkward nods and waves when I enter, but by now, the regrs know me well enough to leave me alone. I¡¯m never unfriendly, per se, I¡¯m just not friendly. Nothing personal, but small talk just isn¡¯t in my nature anymore. Maybe it never was.


    Logan is already there when I arrive, a half-emptied pint in front of him. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you, man.¡±


    I put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°You too, brother.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s the Ranch?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re almost fully booked this week.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great. Where are they from this time?¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t believe this. They¡¯re here for a bird.¡±


    Logan frowns. ¡°Bird as in a hot chick?¡±


    ¡°No, I mean a fucking sparrow. They¡¯re all bird-watchers.¡±


    He breaks out into a wide grin. ¡°You¡¯re shitting me.¡±


    ¡°Not at all. I even overheard Mandy pull someme bird joke at check-in and they all doubled over withughter. Easiest guests I¡¯ve ever had.¡±


    His eyes narrow at the mention of my receptionist. ¡°She¡¯s wonderful with stuff like that.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°When are you going to grow a pair and just talk to her?¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to talk to me. Not anymore.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that.¡±


    ¡°I left her high and dry when I enlisted. I get it.¡± He rolls his neck, clearly ufortable with the topic. ¡°It was great of you to give her a job up there, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Of course. With a rmendation from you, how could I not?¡±


    I watch Logan drain his beer and eye the circles under his eyes. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, just a long day, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°My uncle practically ran the shop until it was on its knees, and then left it to me. There¡¯s so much debt, man.¡±


    ¡°Have you thought about closing it?¡±


    ¡°Every day. There¡¯s nothing left for me in over in Grantville anyway. Maybe I should just go back to working as an electrician.¡±


    ¡°I need one at the farm at least twice weekly, so you¡¯d have all my business right from the get-go.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, man.¡±


    We order another round of beers and shoot the shit for a while. Logan and I served together, and we share a familiarity I have with few others. The honest to God¡¯s truth was that without him and the rest of my brothers, I might not have survived. Not the tours I served, and definitely not the difficult readjustment back stateside.


    Logan nods at my shoulder. ¡°Still good?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. How¡¯s the leg?¡±

 Chapter 9

    He frowns and takes a sip of his drink. ¡°Hanging in there.¡±


    We fall intopanionable silence. We¡¯re in the same boat these days.


    It¡¯s not hard to overhear what¡¯s being said in the booth behind me. The men are loud, the music¡¯s low, and Logan and I are both trained to pick up conversations from far away. When I realize what they¡¯re talking about, I¡¯m all ears.


    ¡°Did you see the flyers she put up this afternoon? She¡¯s looking for clients, boys.¡±


    ¡°Yeeeees,¡± one of the men drawl. I recognize the voice: Gavin Whittaker. My hand tightens around my beer. Somehow, boys who were assholes at ten are still assholes at thirty. Funny how that works out.


    ¡°Did you get a chance to see her in person?¡±


    Gavin snorts. ¡°Hell yes. Insane little body. The Rhodes might have had a point, going on about her all these years.¡±


    ¡°Though they never told us what she worked with.¡±


    ¡°With good reason! A masseuse¡­ holy hell. We all know what that¡¯s code for.¡±


    They share a crudeugh, and I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s the alcohol or some amount of innate chivalry, but I turn around. I hit them with a re that used to make my soldiers quake.


    Little Thomas Wiley sees me first and straightens, almost unconsciously. ¡°Hi, Oliver. Didn¡¯t see you there.¡±


    Gavin tips his beer towards me. ¡°Morris! Join us?¡± But then he catches sight of Logan over my shoulder, with his buzz-cut and unfriendly smile. ¡°Oh, but you already havepany.¡±


    I give them a tight-lipped smile. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but overhear your discussion about Lucy Rhodes.¡±


    ¡°Did you see those flyers too?¡± Thomas asks. He was never really a troublemaker in school, but I remember him hanging around assholes.


    ¡°I did.¡±


    Gavin raises an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯ll have to get in line, Morris. I¡¯m guessing most of us here will want to sample her services.¡±


    ¡°You know, we used to have massage therapists in the Marines.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you did.¡± Gavin grins-I want to knock it right off his face. ¡°A girl in every port, right?¡±


    ¡°Licensed, trained massage therapists that worked on overworked muscles and injuries. Tell me, Logan, was that ever enjoyable?¡±


    He doesn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°It hurt like a motherfucker.¡±


    ¡°It really did. Miss Rhodes also happens to be a licensed, trained massage therapist. Proposition her at work, and you can bet your ass that the entire town will hear about it. More specifically, I will.¡±


    I can tell that Thomas is ufortable, sweat shining on his forehead. The others are squirming in their seats and exchanging nces.


    Gavin looks furious. ¡°Who do you think you are, Oliver? Being the mayor¡¯s boy doesn¡¯t make you the mayor himself. A sheriff? Are we in a bad Western movie?¡±


    Logan rises behind me, and I realize that I need to de-escte this and fast. He¡¯s always had a shorter fuse than me, and he¡¯s had more difficulty re-integrating into society than me.


    ¡°No, we¡¯re in remont. And we don¡¯t behave like scum here.¡± I rise too, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Logan. He doesn¡¯t say anything, but his physical presence is enough to make it clear that he¡¯s backing me up.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want any trouble.¡± This time it¡¯s Duncan, Gavin¡¯s younger brother, who¡¯s been following the conversation silently. He worked as one of my farmhands several summers ago. Decent enough guy, considering his unfortunate rtion. ¡°We¡¯re sorry, Oliver. It was just some harmless banter.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it was.¡± I pause and look at them, one by one. ¡°Enjoy the rest of your evening, boys.¡±


    Logan and I leave the Red g and he lets the door m shut behind us. We walk down Main Street without a destination, both of us jacked up on adrenaline and anger.


    ¡°Shit. Who was that guy?¡±


    ¡°remont¡¯s resident dick-head.¡±


    Logan snorts. ¡°He¡¯s that, for sure.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to cut the night short like that.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t mind. Got my blood pumping for the first time in days. Feels good,¡± Logan says. ¡°What about that girl they were talking about?¡±


    I shove my hands in my pockets. ¡°One of the locals¡¯ niece. She got here recently.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no ¡®oh¡¯ to it.¡±


    ¡°Look, nothing against your honor, man, but you wouldn¡¯t react that strongly to just anyone.¡±


    I rub my hand over my face. Their words refuse to leave me. Sample her services. ¡°Fuck. I¡¯m going to have to hire her.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Sarah wants to create a spa section at the ranch and hire Lucy to offer treatments for the guests.¡±


    Logan bumps my shoulder with his. ¡°And for the owner?¡±


    I ignore the insinuation as we head back to the parking lot. ¡°It¡¯ll be amazing for the promo of the site. If we can get another photographer out here, shoot fancy pictures of massage tables and rolled-up towels¡­¡±


    ¡°And she¡¯ll be away from shits like Gavin.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    Logan clears his throat. ¡°Mandy¡¯s good at photography.¡±


    ¡°She is?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Or she was, at least. When I knew her.¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    I throw my arm around his shoulders, myrade-in-arms, one of the few people on earth who knows exactly what it is to have family and friends look at you and see a stranger instead. I rub his hair, virtue of the two inches of height I have on him, and ignore the punch he sends to my kidneys.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to start working at the Ranch, and you¡¯re going to start talking to Mandy.¡±


    He pulls away with a frown, running a hand over his buzz-cut as if I¡¯d mussed it up. ¡°And you¡¯re going to get with the massage therapist,¡± he deres.

 Chapter 10

    I snort. ¡°Don¡¯t hold your breath.¡±


    I¡¯m in the bakery the next day too, alone again, as my aunt and uncle take the chance to run some errands. It suits me perfectly-I can turn on the radio and re-introduce myself to remont again. Quite a lot of people pass through By the Rhode every day, and surprisingly enough, some of theme by just to say hi. Mrs. Masters stops by, buying banana bread and reminding me again about church on Sunday. I meet a Gavin Whittaker, who I remember from my past summers in remont. He seems as insufferable now as he did then.


    Oliver doesn¡¯t swing by for his order-Phil had taken them out on his usual delivery round. I couldn¡¯t deny that I was a bit disappointed by that. The famed Mr. Morris was some serious eye-candy.


    The lunch rush is as hectic as it gets in remont. Phil¡¯s ready-made sandwiches and ire¡¯s quiches sell like hot cakes. I¡¯m heating one up as I¡¯m taking the order for the next, and every time, I say more or less the same thing. Yes, I¡¯m Lucy. Right, I do remember you, how nice to see you again!


    My phone lit up that morning with yet another text from Kyle. I ignored it like I had his many others. They all said the same thing, to be fair. Come back. Let¡¯s try again. Forgive me.


    Not going to happen. I walked in on him and one of my best friends, and that was it. Boyfriend and best friend gone in an instant. It didn¡¯t help that I¡¯d lost my job not soon afterwards.


    No one has texted me about a massage yet. I put up flyers all over town yesterday, so at least I got the word out there. Day three of the new me is going fantastic.


    The bakery turns quiet and calm again after lunchtime, the only sounding from my trusty little radio. I¡¯m packing muffins into little cellophane bags when the bell above the door rings again.


    Big boots, strong legs. A striped button-down and a faint scowling expression. Thick, blond hair that falls down his forehead.


    ¡°Hello.¡±


    Oliver raises an eyebrow. ¡°Hi.¡±


    I make a show of holding the counter hatch shut. ¡°Are you here to argue some more? I¡¯m going to put up a fight this time.¡±N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    Almost despite himself, his lip curls. ¡°No, I¡¯m not here for that. Not that you¡¯d win if I was, though.¡±


    ¡°You underestimate me. It might be thest thing you do, you know.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m shaking.¡±


    ¡°You should be.¡± I bite my lip as we stare at one another. He is the most ruggedly handsome man I¡¯ve ever seen. The rough tan, the thick hair, the tall frame. He¡¯s a man who¡¯s seen the world and knows his ce in it.


    ¡°I heard you work as a massage therapist.¡±


    It¡¯s thest thing I expect him to say.


    ¡°I do, yes. Trained and licensed.¡±


    He rubs his neck. ¡°Have you ever been up to the Morris Ranch?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking to convert a section of the retreat into abined gym and spa area. We have a lot of guestsing in from out of state, many looking to go horseback riding and rx. Sometimes we have bachelorette parties or wedding receptions as well. I¡¯d like to hire you to offer massages to our guests.¡±


    It¡¯s so unexpected that for a few moments all I do is blink at him. Oliver takes a step forward, hands shoved into his pockets. ¡°I heard that you¡¯re looking for clients?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, I¡¯m interested. Absolutely. Very interested.¡±


    ¡°Despite my abominable behavior yesterday?¡± His mouth twists into a teasing smile, and it changes his face entirely, just like it did the first time I saw him smile. From chiseled and ¡®fuck-off and leave me alone,¡¯ he bes handsome and alive.


    ¡°Despite that. As long as you promise not to barge into my treatment room.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d want tobine my work with shifts here at the bakery.¡±


    ¡°Of course. I would like your input in setting up the space, and then you woulde out to the ranch to do the individual treatments, depending on when you have time and when the guests make a booking. I can¡¯t promise a steady ie.¡± He rubs his neck again. ¡°It will depend on the season, and how many guests are interested.¡±


    He¡¯s right. It mighte to nothing. But it¡¯s a chance to do what I love. It¡¯s a chance tobine my work in the bakery with my profession. My mind whispers the third reason, almost inaudibly-it¡¯s a chance to get to know Oliver.


    My answeres quickly. ¡°I can show you my license as well as my diploma. I have experience across fields-I¡¯ve worked both with spas focused on rxation and those who focused on sports massages.¡± I take a breath, nerves dancing like butterflies in my stomach. ¡°If you¡¯d like references, I have-¡±


    He holds up a hand. ¡°No, no, that won¡¯t be necessary. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be great.¡±


    My exhale is one of pure relief. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d like your input in the creation of the spa as well. When does your shift end today?¡±


    ¡°At three.¡±


    ¡°Come to the Ranch afterwards. We¡¯ll sign the paperwork and my sister will show you around.¡±


    ¡°Your sister?¡±


    ¡°She was here yesterday.¡± His eyes fill with exasperated fondness. ¡°Sarah has a knack for decor. The two of you can decide what the space needs, and I¡¯ll get started on the work tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°That sounds¡­ amazing. I¡¯ll be there around four, then.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where the Ranch is?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±Well, barely, but I¡¯ll manage. The idea itself feels ludicrous-insane-that I¡¯ll get to set up a spa here in remont? I¡¯ll get to work with what I love again? If I win the lottery tomorrow, I¡¯ll know for sure that I¡¯m dreaming. But if I am, I hope no one wakes me up.


    Oliver heads towards the door. I watch him, still in a daze. Only when he opens it do I find my voice. ¡°I¡¯m better at massaging than I am at baking. I promise.¡±


    He shoots me that look over his shoulder, the challenging one, the one that made my throat dry yesterday. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have hired you if you weren¡¯t.¡±


    Then he¡¯s gone, and my world has changed yet again.


    Only this time, it¡¯s for the better.


    The spring warmth in remont has been pleasant. Just warm enough to wear a tank-top, but not yet boiling with heat. But when you¡¯re biking along the side of a road, up a hill, under the baking afternoon sun? It¡¯s scorching.


    With sweat running down my back, I pass beneath a beautifully forged iron gate. A sign with the name Morris hangs above, encircled with wrought-iron leaves. Hard to miss, this ce.


    The Ranch itselfes into view. I¡¯ve never been here, not even as a child during the summers spent in remont.


    It¡¯s beautiful. A tree-lined road leads up to a gravel courtyard in front of a huge white farmhouse. Large windows with blue shutters decorate the front. The courtyard is calm, the adjoining parking lot half-full. Pots of flowering hydrangeas nk the stairs up to a wide porch.


    It¡¯s idyllic.

 Chapter 11

    I park my bike next to the sign for reception and head inside.


    The small lobby is as weing as the outside, with neutral, warm colors and a wide oak desk. A woman my age sits behind it, her head bent over a paperback.


    I step right up. ¡°Hi there.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hello! I¡¯m sorry that I didn¡¯t see you there. How can I help you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Lucy Rhodes, and I¡¯m here to see Oliver and Sarah Morris?¡±


    She gives me a wide smile. ¡°Yes, about the spa section, right? The idea is so exciting.¡±


    ¡°It is, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m thrilled.¡±


    ¡°My name is Mandy. I work as the receptionist here.¡± She pats her book. ¡°We¡¯re not always super busy.¡±


    ¡°Are you from remont?¡±


    She shakes her head. ¡°No, I¡¯m from a town a few miles over. It¡¯s a long story, but¡­ Oh, here he is now.¡±


    We fall silent as Oliver emerges from the back. He¡¯s still wearing the button-down and the dark pair of jeans, topped off with a nearly impassive expression. My nerves return as he nods at Mandy and strides towards me.


    ¡°Lucy.¡±¡±Hi.¡±


    ¡°d you could make it. Let¡¯s head out, and I¡¯ll show you the space.¡±


    I fall into step beside him, down the stairs and out into the warm afternoon sun. His steps are long, and I have to move fast to keep up with him.


    ¡°This ce is beautiful,¡± I venture. ¡°I can see why it¡¯s called a retreat as well as a ranch.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s effective marketing.¡±


    I had spent the afternoon at the bakery on my phone, reading up on the ranch¡¯s website in between customers. I have to ask. ¡°So, you offer trail riding? This ce actually has stables as well?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we do. It¡¯s one of the major draws for our guests.¡±


    In the distance, I hear a horse neighing and excitement pulses through me. It¡¯s been many years since I went riding, but the small-town girl I once was is itching to be set free. This ce is heavenly.


    ¡°It¡¯s right up ahead. It¡¯s not much, but it has potential.¡± Oliver points to a small, white building at the end of a short gravel trail. It has a red-tiled roof and a winding path leading up to the main entrance. Behind it, trees form a green thicket. I can hear birds chirping.C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    ¡°Wow.¡±


    He snorts. ¡°It¡¯s probably not what you¡¯re used to, but I think it might turn out well. Give us a chance.¡±


    ¡°No, no, this looks perfect. This ce is beautiful, Oliver.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t respond, just opens the door to the old house. There¡¯s a small hallway, which opens up into a wide, open room. Huge windows line the back wall. They let in plenty of light and a gorgeous view of the meadow, with trees in the background. It¡¯s perfect.


    ¡°We¡¯ve used this as a reception hall at times, but it¡¯s too far off and too small, really. There are two rooms back here that can be used for whatever you like¡­¡± He leads us through the wide space, opening the door to a secondary, smaller room. There¡¯s only a couch in it now, the white walls bare.


    ¡°This could be a treatment room,¡± I say. It¡¯s easy to picture it-the massage table, the soft lighting I¡¯d put in. Fresh flowers. A low bench with oils and materials. It would be tranquil.


    We head back out into the main room. The view from the windows is truly astonishing-nothing but wilderness and Texas summer.


    ¡°Good. Sarah should be here now.¡± He looks down at his watch and the sleeve of his shirt rides up, revealing a tanned forearm. I force myself to look away. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever known a man before who exudes so much¡­man. ire said he was thirty-three, which makes him seven years older than me. He¡¯s nothing like the men my own age.


    I clear my throat. ¡°Your sister? We met the other day, in the bakery, I think.¡±


    ¡°Yes, she mentioned that. This was her idea.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to thank her.¡±


    He nods, looking around at the space. I find it difficult to see any obvious resemnce between the bubbly woman I¡¯d met in the bakery and Oliver, with his quietness and his restless eyes. She felt like hisplete opposite.


    ¡°She¡¯s lovely,¡± I say.


    He snorts again. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re different that way. Sarah is¡­ stubborn.¡±


    ¡°And you aren¡¯t?¡±


    His gaze meets mine, and one side of his lip curls. ¡°Perhaps I am too, sometimes.¡±


    We don¡¯t say anything for a long moment, eyes still locked.


    ¡°Hello! I¡¯m here!¡± A woman¡¯s voicees floating from the doorway.


    Oliver breaks eye contact. ¡°You¡¯rete.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not, Ollie, you¡¯re early. Hi Lucy! I¡¯m so happy to have you here.¡±


    I can¡¯t help but smile in response to her wide grin. Curls bounce around her face, and she¡¯s wearing a bright green dress today. Sarah is a force of nature.


    ¡°I¡¯m happy to be here.¡±


    She reaches out and gives my arm an enthusiastic squeeze. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just so excited about this! I think this space has so much potential, don¡¯t you? You¡¯re going to have to tell us what you need and what you want. I¡¯ve only been to a spa twice, and I¡¯m sure they were nothingpared to where you¡¯ve worked. Did Ollie show you the back rooms? Come, let me-¡±


    Oliver cuts her off. ¡°I¡¯ve shown her the potential treatment room. I¡¯ll let you two brainstorm design ideas in peace. Here.¡± He pulls out a notebook from his back pocket, a pen tucked through the spiral. ¡°Make a list of everything you think is needed and we¡¯ll go through itter. I¡¯ll make sure the work starts first thing tomorrow.¡±


    I smile at him. ¡°Thank you. Truly.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet,¡± he says gruffly. ¡°There¡¯s still a lot of work to do before we get this going.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a downer! This is going to be great, you just have to visualize the finished product. Now go.¡± Sarah shoos him out. ¡°We have interior design to discuss.¡±


    As soon as the door shuts behind him, she turns to me with a wide smile. She sps her hands together. ¡°Tell me honestly. What do you really think of this ce?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing. The room in the back will make for a great treatment room. I have a portable massage table that we can set up, and then change the decor a bit. Is there a bathroom here?¡±


    ¡°Yes, with a shower, too. You just tell me what you need, and I¡¯ll get it. I found some photos online, would you like to see?¡±

 Chapter 12

    We spend nearly an hour looking at Sarah¡¯s suggestions, and I have to give it to her-she has a real eye for this sort of thing. The list in Oliver¡¯s green notebook grows by the minute. Shelves, a huge number of towels, essential oils, an essential oil burner. A changing room needs to be put in ce, the bathroom decor updated. A few chairs for the waiting room¡­


    ¡°There needs to be a no-shoe policy and a shoe rack, right over there.¡± I point at the hallway.


    Sarahughs. ¡°Right. This is a farmhand-free zone.¡±


    ¡°Oliver mentioned something about a hot tub?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we want to install one right outside of this wall¡­ maybe over there.¡± She points through the windows to a spot outside, near the thickets. ¡°I¡¯m thinking that guests could book it in advance.¡±


    ¡°It could be part of some sort of spa package¡­ A one-hour deep muscle massage, half-an-hour in the hot tub, a face mask¡­ There are tons of things we can do.¡±


    Sarah grins at me. ¡°I¡¯m so excited! And I¡¯m really happy that you came to remont, and that I have your help in this.¡± She leans closer. ¡°Between you and me, Oliver is the numbers guy. I had to convince him that a spa was a good idea, but I know this ce has potential.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes. Is there anything else you can think of that we should absolutely have? You¡¯re free to think big here. I¡¯m certainly not a numbers girl,¡± she says with a wink.


    ¡°Yes, actually, thisrge room would make a great yoga studio, or a meditation space. Can you imagine being on your mat here with the sun rising on the meadows through the window? It would be amazing.¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    Sarah¡¯s eyes widen. ¡°Oh my God. You¡¯re right. Yes! We could have yoga sses in the morning when we have big parties of guests, or when we get a group booking for a weekend. Maybe even during wedding season¡­ You don¡¯t happen to know some yoga, do you?¡±


    I smile. ¡°I¡¯ve practiced yoga for years, actually, and I even took a twelve-week course to be a teacher a couple of years ago. But I haven¡¯t taught since then.¡±


    Unexpectedly, Sarah pulls me into a hug. She smells like cinnamon and baby powder, and her hold is strong. ¡°Lucy Rhodes, I don¡¯t know why you decided to move to remont, but I¡¯m damn happy you did.¡±


    ¡°Just make sure you¡¯re here by noon tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely, sir. We¡¯re sorry again about the dy.¡±


    I clear my throat. ¡°Shit happens. I get it.¡±


    ¡°Until tomorrow, then.¡±


    I hang up and let out a groan. The contractors I work with are great-that¡¯s why I keep giving them my business-but they use sub-contractors in turn. Sub-contractors that are okay with subpar work, and shoddy delivery times.


    We¡¯re nearly two days behind schedule on the work on the spa. It¡¯s not much, but I¡¯d like to have the ce up and running before the first wedding reception in June. The spa has already been announced on our website.


    I rise from my desk, and like clockwork, Austin gets up from his sprawl by my feet. He shakes out his fur and stretches.


    ¡°I know how you feel.¡± My muscles are sore-the familiar ache in my shoulder is back from the recent days of construction work. The fucking thing has never been the same since I got shot, despite all the hours at the physical therapist¡¯s office before I delisted. It¡¯ll never be the same again, but I know I¡¯m a hell of a lot luckier than many others. I made it back.


    I look out across the courtyard and the rest of the ranch. It¡¯s easy to see this ce and remember the good times, Mom hangingundry or Sarah ying fetch with the dogs. Bread rolls fresh from the oven and the sound ofughter. Now, all I hear are farmhands cussing or the house staff¡¯s pleasant chats with guests.


    I can clearly see the spa¡¯s roof in the distance, the tiles shining bright red in the sunlight. A small truck is parked outside, and I know without seeing the logo who it belongs to.


    Logan has been here for two days in a row, getting the electricity fixed in the spa. It¡¯s minor work, and I suspect he would have finished it in a couple of hours if he wasn¡¯t taking his sweet, sweet time doing it. I¡¯m pretty sure I know why, too-the answer is spelled Mandy.


    I¡¯ve pretended that I haven¡¯t overheard the low conversations in reception, or the awkward pauses when I walked through. Whatever happened between the two of them, Logan¡¯s not sharing, but I can tell there are still feelings there. Lord knows Logan needed a woman¡¯s touch in his life. The dark circles under his eyes weren¡¯t getting any better.


    My eyes still trained on the spa, I see a lithe figure step out through the front door. Even from this distance, I can see the hair shining under the spring sun.


    I look down at Austin. ¡°What do you say, bud? Should we go for a walk?¡±


    His tail starts to wag and he sets off down the stairs. I follow him, knowing all too well that we¡¯re really doing this for my benefit and not for his.


    Because since Lucy starteding up here every other day to check on the work, I¡¯ve done all I can to get glimpses of her. Seeing her smile, even when it¡¯s not directed at me, has be one of the best damn highlights of my days.


    Because I¡¯m breaking my own rules when ites to her.


    Jack and Tim wave at me as I walk past them, busy trimming the flower beds along the courtyard. I nod. They¡¯re goodds, but I would be lying if I said that I haven¡¯t noticed them paying extra attention to thewn in front of the spa sectiontely.


    I¡¯d me them for it if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that I¡¯m heading there for the same purpose myself.


    Sarah and Lucy are sitting on the small bench outside the entrance to the spa, bent over a clipboard. Their heads are touching, light to auburn.


    They look thick as thieves.


    ¡°This treatment looks great. Three hours long?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It should be great for guests looking for rxation, rather than the ones who want to be¡­ well, sporty. We¡¯llbine a few elements.¡±


    ¡°The face mask sounds like a treat. How expensive is that to purchase in bulk, though?¡±


    Lucy gives a small, excitedugh, and the sound makes me want to smile. I feel like a creep, standing here watching them, but I don¡¯t want to interrupt quite yet.


    ¡°It¡¯s not expensive at all! It¡¯s a ssic spa recipe, but the ingredients are actually quite cheap. A mixture of carrier oils, y and a couple of essential oils. Does wonders for the skin without costing a fortune.¡±


    Sarah ps her hands excitedly, the same way she did as a child. ¡°Can you show me the recipe?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send it to you.¡±


    Austin bounces up next to me, having finished examining the new flower beds, but he doesn¡¯t share my desire to stay unseen. He runs on ahead with all the eagerness of someone expecting a warm wee.


    The girls look up.


    ¡°Austin!¡± My sister is all head rubs and floppy ear tugs, but Lucy nces up at me. Her eyes grow still. Theughing ease she had with my sister is gone.


    But she doesn¡¯t look displeased, either. Just¡­ aware.


    I¡¯m aware of her, too. Aware of the way her hair curls behind her ear or how she frowns slightly when she¡¯s focusing hard. I saw the strap of her dress slip down her shoulder a few days earlier, revealing a bare, freckled shoulder. I had to turn away from the sight.


    Her eyebrow rises. ¡°Hey.¡±


    Sarah follows her gaze. ¡°Ollie! You¡¯re just in time. We¡¯re reviewing the final draft of the spa menu.¡±


    Lucy taps a pen against the clipboard. ¡°It still needs a bit of work.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s basically finished.¡± Sarah waves a hand, the one not upied with giving Austin a belly rub. He looks like he could faint from pleasure, tail tapping rhythmically against the dry ground.

 Chapter 13

    ¡°Alright,¡± I say, looking straight at Lucy. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it.¡±


    I think I unnerve her sometimes. Good. She certainly unnerves me too.


    She clears her throat. ¡°We don¡¯t want to make it so long that guests get overwhelmed with options, so we settled on eight treatments.¡±


    ¡°Eight?¡±


    She looks up at me. ¡°Yeah. Thest spa I worked at had twenty-nine. Eight is a great number for a smaller, family-owned ce with only one therapist.¡±


    ¡°Ollie¡¯s never been to a spa,¡± Sarah interjects, as if covering for me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him.¡±


    I don¡¯t like my little sister¡¯s interference. ¡°I thought it sounded like a lot, actually. But by all means, you¡¯re the expert.¡±


    Lucy nces back down at her list. ¡°The first three are all one-hour massages, the ssics. Swedish-which is a hot oil massage for rxation. A deep tissue massage, where clients can request specific areas. It¡¯s more painful but also more effective.¡± She shrugs. ¡°If the clients work at an office they¡¯ll already know and love this. And finally, a sports massage.¡±


    ¡°Sports?¡±


    ¡°It focuses on the pain caused by exercises. Sore muscles, essentially.¡±


    ¡°Perfect for people who¡¯ve gone trail riding.¡± Sarah winks at me. ¡°Which is what I¡¯m going to write in the description underneath on the website.¡±


    I nod. I have to admit, it does sound like a recipe for sess. But, what do I know?


    ¡°What are the other five?¡±


    ¡°Packages,¡± Lucy responds. ¡°Massage, meditation, facials. A dip in the hot tub. Eighty-minute massage sessions and rxation. That sort of thing.¡±


    This is far from myfort zone, but I can see the economic profit in all of this. ¡°This sounds expensive.¡±


    ¡°It can be,¡± Lucy says, but I can see that that¡¯s not important for her. ¡°Although we should charge significantly less than they do in the big cities.¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    ¡°I¡¯ll do some research,¡± I say. ¡°We can set the prices together tomorrow if you¡¯ve settled on the menu.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be done by then. Should Ie to your office?¡±


    I imagine her up there, the door closed behind us. For a second, the image of her across my desk shes through my mind and my body starts to respond in kind. I push the wild image away. Focus, Oliver. ¡°Yes.¡±


    The sound of loud drilling picks up from inside the building. ¡°Logan still working away?¡±


    Lucy nods. ¡°He has been, all day. A real hard worker.¡±


    I can¡¯t help it-I grin. I imagine him wiring, un-wiring and re-wiring the same section of wall just to drag this job out for as long as possible. All because of Mandy. Such a hard worker.


    ¡°He is,¡± I say.


    Her eyes narrow-as if she thinks I¡¯m making fun of her. Before I can say anything else, Sarah gets up. ¡°I have to go and pick up the kids. It¡¯ste.¡±


    ¡°See you tomorrow?¡±


    Sarah smiles. ¡°Of course, Luce. I¡¯ll probably see you in the bakery first. I need some cookies for Sophia¡¯s afterschool ballet ss. We¡¯re having a recital.¡±


    She heads past me, rising to her toes to press a quick kiss on my cheek, and I¡¯m left reeling. Luce? They have gotten awfully chummy this past week.


    ¡°Bye, Ollie.¡±


    ¡°Bye.¡±


    She disappears. Left on the sunny patch of grass is just me and Lucy and a very bored Austin, who has decided that rolling around on the dusty gravel path is an excellent pastime. Lucy watches his antics and a sweet, soft smile spreads across her lips. She looks peaceful.


    ¡°He¡¯s a real treat, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°He likes you.¡±


    Her smile broadens. ¡°Oh, does he?¡±


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t said a word to me all day.¡± She frowns, her eyes yful. ¡°I was wondering if it was something I¡¯d said.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just not that talkative,¡± I say. ¡°But trust me-he wouldn¡¯t be showing off these antics to just anyone.¡±


    ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Austin chooses that moment to flop down on all four, goingpletely limp and letting out a massive sigh. He thinks we¡¯re here to stay and he might as well make himselffortable.


    Lucyughs, and the sound is as enchanting as the first time I heard it. Laughteres easily to her, and she gives it freely, but each time it seems to genuinely thrill her. It¡¯s never stilted or fake.


    ¡°No, now he¡¯s very clearly bored with me, Oliver.¡±


    ¡°Then he¡¯s an idiot,¡± I say. Ites out much softer than I intended, and she nces up at me in surprise.


    I clear my throat. ¡°Staying long today?¡±


    ¡°No. There¡¯s nothing more to do. I¡¯ll finish the treatment list tonight and have it ready for you tomorrow.¡±


    Lucy gets up from the bench and dusts off her shorts. Austin, d that we seem to be on the move, weaves between her legs. Sheughs again, and I¡¯m just as struck as before.


    We walk back to the main house.


    ¡°So, Logan and you, you go way back?¡±


    I nod. ¡°Years.¡±


    We fall silent again and I can tell she wants me to borate. But the story is either one word or ten thousand-there are no in-betweens. I learned a long time ago that when people say they¡¯re there for you, when they say they want to listen, they don¡¯t. They want you to give a few chosen sentences, ones designed to be appropriately sad and appropriately honorable, so they can fit you into their preconceived notions. Too much honesty, and you¡¯ll frighten people away.


    It¡¯s partly why I haven¡¯t tried to talk about it in a very long time. But maybe I should try, at the very least.


    I clear my throat. ¡°We served together.¡±

 Chapter 14

    ¡°In the Marines?¡±


    I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that she knows. People will have told her all kinds of stories.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I say. ¡°He lives a few towns over.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not very talkative, either,¡± she says, a smile in her voice. ¡°But he seems great. Handy with a drill.¡±


    ¡°Not very talkative either? Are you referring to Austin again?¡±


    Lucy shoots me an amused nce, biting her lip to keep from smiling. ¡°Yes. Who else could I possibly be referring to?¡±


    I give a show of ncing around. ¡°Beats me, because I¡¯m often told I¡¯m a chatterbox.¡±


    It¡¯s ame joke, and I¡¯m reminded again of how long it¡¯s been since I¡¯ve done anything like this, but then sheughs like I¡¯ve said something funny. Like I¡¯m good at this. At having a conversation about normal things with normal people. At making jokes.


    Her grin is wide now. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say you don¡¯t actually know yourself very well.¡± She makes a show of counting on her fingers. ¡°Not very spirited, he says. Has a ¡®small¡¯ ranch and is a chatterbox. What will you call yourself next?¡±


    She¡¯s flirting with me. Adrenaline is rushing through me, kicking me into action.


    ¡°Easy-going,¡± I say. ¡°Laidback.¡±


    Lucy chuckles again and the sound is a victory. ¡°mboyant.¡±


    ¡°Social.¡±


    She frowns at that. ¡°You¡¯re social.¡±


    ¡°Right. Ask anyone in town.¡± All the people who¡¯d wanted the boy who was prom king back and got a scarred man instead.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to ask anyone,¡± she says as we walk through the half-empty parking lot. ¡°I prefer to get to know people all by myself.¡±


    We reach the parking lot and I look around. ¡°Where¡¯s your car?¡±


    ¡°I usually bike here.¡±


    ¡°You bike from town?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s not far.¡±


    I frown. The roads are small, and cars often drive at very high speeds. ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem safe.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a very good cyclist.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you are. I¡¯m heading into town this evening anyway. Why don¡¯t I give you a lift?¡±


    She pauses, her eyes widening. ¡°Oliver, it¡¯s safe, I promise. You don¡¯t have to-¡±


    I wave her off. ¡°I¡¯m going down anyway. Come on, I¡¯ll throw your bike in the back of the pickup.¡±N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    Lucy bites her lip, deliberating for a moment. Say yes, I think. Don¡¯t let this conversation be over. Let¡¯s prolong this for a little bit longer.


    Finally, she shrugs. ¡°If you insist, Mr. Laidback.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    We handle the practicalities inpanionable silence as I lift her bike up and until the back of my truck. It¡¯s a shoddy thing, rust visible on the frame.


    I frown. ¡°How old is this thing?¡±


    Lucy shrugs. ¡°Very. Phil has had it since I was a kid.¡±


    She should have a car, or at the very least, she should have a better bike. I don¡¯t say any of this as I hold open the passenger seat door for her. She jumps in, her hair flipping behind her, and it smells like perfume and woman. I shake my head at myself and climb into the driver¡¯s seat. I should focus on things I can control-like keeping her talking.


    ¡°Where are you from? Originally?¡±


    ¡°I grew up in Acton, a few hours north.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s bigger than remont, right?¡±


    ¡°It is. Have you ever been?¡±


    ¡°A few times. You have that massive antique sale every year, right?¡± I say and see her grin out of the corner of my eye.


    ¡°We do! You¡¯ve been?¡±


    ¡°Sarah¡¯s dragged me with her a few times, to get pieces for the guest rooms.¡±


    She must have heard my tone, because Lucy¡¯s voice is teasing. ¡°Your favorite day of the year?¡±


    ¡°Better than Christmas,¡± I say.


    Sheughs again like I¡¯m funny-like she¡¯s enjoying mypany. ¡°At least it¡¯s paid off. The ranch is gorgeous. I can¡¯t believe you grew up in that ce!¡±


    ¡°It has its charms,¡± I say. The Morris family¡¯s pride and joy, the Mayors¡¯ home, the ¡®Morris Mansion¡¯ as my grandfather liked to refer to it.


    Endless fields pass by outside, the way to town one I could drive in my sleep. We¡¯re not far now. ¡°Where do you want to be dropped off? At Phil and ire¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m staying at the bakery.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±Sheughs at my obvious confusion. ¡°There¡¯s a studio on the floor above. My uncle renovated itst year.¡±


    I remember the small space he wanted to transform, the material I¡¯d gotten for him with my truck. ¡°But it¡¯s tiny.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not! The perfect size for one. Besides, I like helping out at the bakery and it¡¯s where I spent parts of my childhood.¡±


    ¡°So you were here as a kid?¡±


    ¡°I spent a few weeks here most summers, yeah.¡±

 Chapter 15

    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    She nces at me with a smile. ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you around. I would have remembered if I did.¡±


    ¡°Auntie said that you were serving elsewhere for a long time. I guess we were just never here at the same time.¡± She has spoken to her aunt about me. The idea gives me a strange rush of satisfaction.


    ¡°I was away for nearly eight years, so it makes sense that I missed you.¡± I nce at her long legs, just lightly tan from the spring sun, and add what I¡¯m thinking without censure. ¡°It¡¯s a shame I did, though.¡±


    Lucy grins, but I grip the wheel tighter. Why did I say that? It¡¯s been forever since I¡¯ve done this. This kind of hesitant, flirty, sober conversation with a woman. We turn onto on Main Street, and I pull the truck to a stop in front of the bakery.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get the bike.¡±


    She thanks me after I¡¯ve lifted it down, as if I¡¯ve done something difficult. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride, Oliver.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡±


    I stay in ce, watching her roll the bike towards the bakery¡¯s front door. She pauses, her keys in her hand, and turns back to me.


    ¡°I would have remembered you, too,¡± she says. ¡°If I had seen you before.¡±


    It¡¯s amazing how quickly the spaes together. A week and a half from our first meeting and there¡¯s a fully functioning therapy room, an updated bathroom with a rain shower head and a changing room.


    Oliver is rarely around. I see him sometimes, from therge ss windows in the spa, striding across the courtyard or signing off deliveries. He doesn¡¯t walk-he always strides. Like he has a purpose, and he knows you want to know what it is, but he¡¯d be damned before he deigned to share it with anyone. It takes me a while to admit it to myself, but seeing glimpses of him are some of the best parts of my days.


    But if he¡¯s making himself scarce, his sister is decidedly not. Sarah pops into my studio at least four times during my first day, wearing a crazier hairstyle each time. Half the time she just wants to say hi and the other half she has a brilliant suggestion for an air diffuser or a name suggestion for a treatment.


    She¡¯s growing on me.


    I¡¯ve got my first client in nearly two solid months. Nerves and excitement had mingled in my stomach all morning, but once I started the treatment, my hands remembered exactly what to do.


    The client tenses under my hands and I rub the offending muscle a bit extra. ¡°This bit is sore.¡±


    She gives a weakugh into the massage table. ¡°Tell me about it!¡±


    ¡°You work at a desk?¡±


    Her ponytail bobs as she nods. ¡°All day.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing the riding this morning didn¡¯t exactly help with the pain?¡±


    She mumbles something I don¡¯t catch, but it sounds like ¡®made it worse.¡¯


    ¡°I¡¯ll focus on your upper back and neck for the remainder of the session,¡± I say. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can get some of those knots out. Just let me know if the pressure is too much.¡±


    She gives another nod and I get to work.


    From her ent, I¡¯m guessing she¡¯s from the north-east, and Mandy told me this morning that her sister might want a massage tomorrow as well. Apparently they hade here for some time away from city life, to disconnect and reconnect.


    I can see the newly installed hot tub outside from the window in my therapy room. Oliver has talked about building a deck around it-something about spotlights and deck chairs-but so far it¡¯s just sitting out there, right by the forest glen.


    The more time I spend up here, the more I think the ranch might truly be a small sliver of paradise. Little wonder Oliver rarely leaves it!


    I let my mind wander as I knead the tension in my client¡¯s shoulders and neck. Inevitably, as it so often does these days, it is wandering back to my old life in Das.C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    My ex-boyfriend texted me again this morning. This time it was the outrageous kind, not so much begging for me toe back as telling me I¡¯d been terrible for not letting him exin his reasons.


    I didn¡¯t want to hear Kyle¡¯s reasons. What the hell did he mean, really? Reasons for why he had slept with my best friend? A lifetime seemed to have passed since that dreadful day all those weeks ago. His nearly daily texts made it more than clear that I¡¯d been a fool for a good long while.


    What hurts more is that none of my coworkers have been in touch. It ended ugly between me and the spa, sure, but the fact that no one reached out at all¡­ Not even a single, short text message. I¡¯d spent nearly every lunch breakughing with Lindsey and Tom, but they dropped me immediately after the news broke.


    I¡¯ve made new friends in remont. Sarah was as sweet as she was asionally mad, and she gives me her full support in nearly every creative idea I have. I¡¯ve gone from being unemployed to essentially running my own little spa. Mandy and I have eaten lunch a couple of times over thest week and it turns out that we have a lot inmon.


    And then there¡¯s Oliver.


    I didn¡¯t know why, couldn¡¯t pinpoint the reason, but I feel alive when he¡¯s around. The way his eyes settle on me without mercy or pretense-as if he sees everything I am. Or maybe it¡¯s the fact that he is nearly a head taller than me and so handsome it stops you dead in your tracks.


    I¡¯ve been hooked from the beginning; from the first time he came into the bakery.


    I¡¯m sure it got old-he had to have learned to recognize the tell-tale signs, the blushing cheeks and the lingering looks. The sudden pause in a woman¡¯s conversation when she sees him. I¡¯ve seen it myself with some of the female guests catching sight of him striding across the courtyard, though Oliver never seemed to care.


    If he¡¯d been living in a bigger city, he would have women throwing themselves his way. Maybe he does, even out here. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me.


    It doesn¡¯t help, either, that he seems so modest about his good looks. He could exploit them to high heaven and yet I haven¡¯t seen the trace of a girlfriend or a female friend.


    I shake my head and return my focus on what¡¯s before me. Treating a neck and shoulders damaged from hours in front of aputer has been a daily urrence at all ces I¡¯ve worked at. So many people spend months living with headaches and poor sleep, all from tensions here.


    I grab a hot towel from the towel warmer and gently wipe away most of the massage oil from my client¡¯s upper back. She groans again, and I smile. ¡°You¡¯ll be sore here as well, now. Do you have a heating pad at home, by any chance?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I use it across my stomach sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Try warming it up and draping it over your shoulders after a long day of work. It¡¯ll help your muscles rx after the continuous strain fromputer work.¡±


    She thanks me and I leave the room, gently shutting the door behind me to let her dress and finish up. The room outside is beautiful. Soft flooring, soft lighting-a sofa for waiting. Through the floor to ceiling windows in the back, there¡¯s a wide-open view to the meadows. The tall grass is golden under the midday sun.


    I¡¯d been so lucky ining here.


    After Anna leaves, I toss the used towels in theundry and make sure to leave the space clean and locked. I triple-check that the lights are off and the hot tub isn¡¯t running: everything¡¯s in order. I¡¯m running a one-woman spa and the buck stops with me.


    The sunlight is warm on my face and the scent of freshly mowed grass hangs in the air. I never want to leave this ranch. It has everything-everything I had missed in Das but never admitted to myself.


    Grabbing my home-made lunch, I make my way through the buildings. It took me days just to stop getting lost in the vastness of the Morris Ranch, the many outhouses and pens and cabins.


    I stop at the sound of a horse neighing loudly. Jack and Tim are working with one of the mares, using a long-line to warm her up. They wave hello and I hold up my lunch bag.


    ¡°You guys up for a break anytime soon?¡±


    Tim hands the reins to Jack and jogs towards me. ¡°I wish! We have to prepare some of the horses for a party of trail riders this afternoon.¡±

 Chapter 16

    I shield my eyes from the sun and smile at his sweaty, happy grin. ¡°Sounds fun.¡±


    ¡°How was your first client? How did it go?¡±


    ¡°It went great!¡±


    He high fives me and runs back to the pen with a see youter! I really had lucked out with this ce. The entire ce is youthful, driven by kind-hearted, hard-working people. Mandy already spoke about a barbecue in a few weeks.


    After circling around the low stables, I finally arrive at my destination. The ranch overlooks a wide sloping field of wildflowers. It continues for ages, the edge disappearing in a haze of trees. I don¡¯t know why it hasn¡¯t been converted into a field for crops, but I¡¯m happy it hasn¡¯t.


    There¡¯s a cute two-story house here, too. It¡¯s white and wooden with a wrap-around porch and blue-shuttered windows. I take a seat on the bench beneath the porch, overlooking the meadow.


    I¡¯m sure there are guests staying inside, but out here is a free-for-all, I reckon. I begin to eat my sandwich, apanied by cicadas and sunshine. The sun on my skin feels like summer and new beginnings.


    I¡¯m deep in thought when a shadow bounds past. Austin stops dead in his tracks in front of me, his tail starting to wag.


    ¡°Hey there, buddy.¡±


    Austin pads closer and I rub his dark ears. Border Collies really are some of the best dogs. His head cocks to the side as he looks at the food in my hand.


    ¡°I can¡¯t give you any of this, you know. I¡¯m sure it has a bunch of stuff that¡¯s not good for you.¡± I look down at my pastrami sandwich and back to his pleading puppy eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve never had a pet, so I don¡¯t know. Can you digest sesame seeds? Blink once for yes, twice for no.¡±


    Austin blinks zero times.


    I sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll have to err on the safe side, buddy. Sorry.¡±


    A deep voice rings out behind me. ¡°Austin, get back here!¡±


    The dog bounds off and I watch his movements as he runs past the bench, up onto the porch, and to the waiting side of¡­ Oliver.


    Not-wearing-a-shirt-Oliver.


    Has-a-six-pack-Oliver.


    I blink at him. There¡¯s not a single rational thought in my head. My mind is upied with the expanse of tan skin and therge, red scar that snakes down his side. His hair is wet and he¡¯s holding a towel. Thank god he¡¯s wearing pants, because the V that disappears down the waistband is distracting enough.


    He looks as surprised as I feel. ¡°Lucy?¡±


    ¡°Oliver?¡±


    That¡¯s when I see it-the open door behind him. Theck of a number on the house should have tipped me off, or the fact that there are no perfectly maintained hedges and flower boxes here.


    ¡°Oh my god. This is your house, right? Like, your house-house?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry, I didn¡¯t know, or I wouldn¡¯t have¡­¡± I grab my backpack and my water bottle. My half-eaten sandwich goes straight back into the bag. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to intrude.¡±


    ¡°Are you having lunch?¡±


    I nod. ¡°Yes. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°I need to eat too.¡± He runs a hand through damp hair. It¡¯s dark when it¡¯s wet, so different from his normal blonde color. ¡°I just need to pop on a shirt, and then I can join you.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Yeah, sure.¡±


    ¡°Stay there.¡±


    I sink back onto the bench and watch as Austin flops down at my feet. He¡¯s panting in the heat and I can rte more than I want to. Get a grip, Lucy.


    Oliver returns with a big pitcher of ice tea, a sandwich of his own and a box of muffins. The scent of soap and man washes over me as he takes a seat next to me, putting the food between us. ¡°Sarah bakes asionally, and her muffins are pretty good.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I swallow my embarrassment. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, again. I wouldn¡¯t havee here if I¡¯d known.¡±


    He waves my apology away. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I know this ce can be confusing at first.¡±


    ¡°It can. You must have gotten lost all the time as a child.¡±


    His small smile is back, the one that tugs at the corner of his lip and hints at the existence of a dimple. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve always had a good sense of direction.¡±


    I pull my legs back up underneath me and look at his strong profile. ¡°Did you ever y hide-and-seek here with cousins and friends?¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    He nods, and I shake my head. ¡°You must have won a lot, with the home-field advantage.¡±


    Unexpectedly, a triumphant smile spreads across his features. ¡°Every time.¡±


    Iugh, and his smile grows wider still. The sunlight casts shadows across his sharp, chiseled features. His damp hair curls just slightly at the temples and I force myself to re-focus on my lunch.


    ¡°How did your first treatment go?¡±


    ¡°Great! I think she really enjoyed it, but hopefully, she¡¯ll fill out one of those customer review cards and we can see what I can improve on. It was so great to get back to massaging,¡± I say. ¡°It¡¯s been a couple of weeks.¡±


    He nods and unwraps his own sandwich. ¡°You really like it, don¡¯t you?¡±


    It¡¯s not phrased like an usation, but it¡¯s not filled with understanding, either. ¡°I do. But it¡¯s more about the health aspect, the holistic part of it. So many people don¡¯t take care of themselves and their bodies, or they abuse their muscles in positions they¡¯re just not meant to be in. Taking an hour or two out of one¡¯s day to work out, or to meditate, or to do yoga-that¡¯s life-changing. I don¡¯t want to sound preachy but I think a lot of people could be helped with more self-care.¡±


    ¡°You like taking care of people.¡±


    ¡°I like helping people take care of themselves. I know that might sound pretentious, but-¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t. It sounds very noble, actually.¡±


    No one has ever used that word to describe what I do, and for a few moments, I have to look very intently at my sandwich to avoid getting misty-eyed. Thements I¡¯d been getting over the past couple of weeks made me sound anything but noble, even though I knew I had done nothing wrong.


    ¡°You okay?¡±


    I nod. ¡°Yeah. Thank you. How about you? Do you like running this ranch?¡±


    He takes another bite and looks out across the fields. I thought I¡¯d asked an easy question-not the one I wanted to ask, about his scars and his past and how he must know everything about nobility-but he seems lost in thought.

 Chapter 17

    Finally, he turns to me. ¡°I do. It¡¯s a challenge, and it¡¯s a lot of responsibility at times, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯m suited for anything else.¡±


    His answer makes me sad, but I nod anyway. ¡°Well, don¡¯t say that. From what I can see you run pretty much all of this single-handedly. That¡¯s a CEO right there.¡±


    Oliver scoffs, but he catches on to my teasing. ¡°Forbes called about a profilest week, but I turned them down.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not in it for the fame?¡±


    He shakes his head, face magnanimous. ¡°It¡¯s about the people, Lucy.¡±


    We grin at each other. I¡¯d found Oliver attractive before, but with a wide smile on his face? It transforms himpletely. The dimple I¡¯d only seen hints of is on full disy, his eyes sparkling. The fact that he seems tough so rarely is a crime, but if he did it more often, I was in real danger of bing yet another woman falling at his feet.


    ¡°So, tell me,¡± he says. ¡°What¡¯s best-working at the bakery or working here at the ranch?¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°No, no, that¡¯s not a fair question. You can¡¯t ask me that.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because in one option I work with my family! I can¡¯t choose.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be hard-pressed to find a person in this town who gossips less than I do,¡± he offers. ¡°Mrs. Masters and I are barely on speaking terms. Your secret is safe with me.¡±


    I narrow my eyes at him. ¡°I know what you¡¯re doing.¡±


    He looks innocent. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°You want me to admit that working here is the best.¡±


    ¡°I would never fish for praise,¡± Oliver says. ¡°I was raised better than that.¡±


    Iugh again. ¡°Sure you were. But¡­ and you promise it¡¯s just between us?¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    He nods, and his eyes are serious now, as if this whole thing wasn¡¯t just a silly joke. ¡°I promise.¡±


    ¡°Working here is great. I love it. I actually love it¡­ just as much as I love selling bread in town.¡±


    Oliver groans. ¡°Coward.¡±


    He reaches for one of the muffins and I watch as he peels back the parchment paper. His hands are broad across the back, nails short, the skin slightly rough. They¡¯re the hands of a man who works. His body was the same, from what I¡¯d seen-the body of a man who uses it daily. They¡¯re his tools, and he¡¯s in full control over both.


    I grab my own muffin and we fall intopanionable silence.


    He clears his throat. ¡°So, why did youe to remont?¡±


    Oh.


    I look down at the muffin in my hand, the small bits of raspberry, the white chocte chips. The story is long and not particrly ttering and I really want to leave it all behind.


    ¡°I wanted to get away from the city for a while,¡± I say. ¡°I wanted to¡­¡±


    ¡°Escape?¡± His face is impassive, but his eyes are softer.


    I nod. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°This ce is good for that. It¡¯s a retreat, after all.¡±


    I snort. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    He reaches out, his fingers just barely touching my cheek as he brushes a strand of hair back behind my ear. He¡¯s so close that I can see the small specks of light in his blue eyes.


    ¡°Well,¡± he says. ¡°You¡¯re wee to use this as an escape for as long as you need it.¡±


    I watch Lucy walk away from the farmhouse, her bag slung across her shoulder, bare legs tickled by the too-high grass. She smelled of citrus and was easy to talk to and hell if I wasn¡¯t hot for her. I wanted to slide my fingers through her hair and pull her close, and then closer still.


    I could swear that her eyes flicked down my chest earlier. She¡¯d seen my scars for sure-at least some of them. But she hadn¡¯t asked, even if I could guess what she was thinking.


    She¡¯de to remont to run from something or someone, and I¡¯ll make sure she has a job here for as long as she needed it. But I don¡¯t for a minute think she¡¯ll stay for long.


    But she¡¯d stillughed at my jokes and smiled as if she didn¡¯t want to be anywhere else. It had been a long time since anyone had been thatfortable around me who wasn¡¯t my direct family or my Marine buddies.


    When I¡¯de back to this town, it was like it had changed shape. I didn¡¯t fit here anymore. The light, pleasant conversations I¡¯d grown up having with these people felt torturous now. I wasn¡¯t who I¡¯d been before, and no one knew how to deal with that-least of all me.


    But Lucy didn¡¯t know me from before.


    She only knew me from now.


    And she still found me funny.


    Myst rtionship had practically been over before it began. I was emotionally unavable, she¡¯d said. There, but not really there. She¡¯d cried when I woke up from a nightmare once and I¡¯d had tofort her, still sweaty from the experience myself. She¡¯d left me after a few months and gotten upset that I hadn¡¯t seemed sad by the split. Thest I heard, she was married now, living a few towns over. Good for her; one of us should find happiness.


    Since her, I hadn¡¯t seen the point in even trying. I wasn¡¯t boyfriend material, not husband material-I could never be like Sarah¡¯s husband John.


    I knew all of this, but my mind kept returning to thoughts of Lucy, like a broken record on repeat. I saw her eyes widen, I felt the silkiness of her hair through my fingers, and my body grew hot and tense as I imagined how she¡¯d feel in my arms. It had been so long since I¡¯d felt a woman¡¯s soft body against mine.


    Hourster, she¡¯s still present in my mind-even with Logan in my office, a beer in his hand. He leans back in his chair. ¡°The spa turned out really well.¡±


    ¡°It did. All thanks to your electrical work, of course.¡±


    He raises his beer. ¡°Anything for you, man. I also managed to get a look at the girl that Gavin got you riled up about. Lucy?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± he pauses. ¡°Let¡¯s just say that I can see why you got angry.¡±


    I put down my beer.


    Logan looks at me for a moment before he breaks intoughter. ¡°Okay, okay, but Oliver, you¡¯ve been dropping hints about Mandy since I got back. I have to give as good as I get, man.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, anyway. She¡¯s too young.¡±

 Chapter 18

    ¡°And what are you, middle-aged? You¡¯re thirty-three. Get your head out of your ass.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s¡­light.¡± I frown, not knowing how to exin it the right way. ¡°Anyway, you know I¡¯m shit with women.¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    Logan bangs his hand against the table. ¡°And that¡¯s just astounding to me. You literally don¡¯t have to lift a finger and they flock anyway.¡±


    Plenty of my fellow Marines had been big on sleeping around, same as the guys I¡¯d yed football with back in college. I¡¯d tried it, and it had been surprisingly unsatisfying. ¡°You know that lifestyle is hollow, man.¡±


    He looks away, and I can see his jaw tense. ¡°I know. Mama raised you right, and all that?¡±


    The door to my office opens and Sarah bursts in. She takes a long-suffering look at Logan and me, her gaze flicking between our beers.


    ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d think the two of you don¡¯t have any work to do.¡±


    Logan gives her a crooked grin, one he¡¯s always been able to charm her with. ¡°Just making sure Ollie doesn¡¯t work himself into an early grave.¡±


    Her eyes soften as she nces back at me. I know she worries about me-she has for years-even though I¡¯m the older brother.


    It¡¯s another piece of guilt for me to carry around.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    She puts a thick piece of paper on the table. I recognize the Morris logo, but not the cursive script scrawled across it. ¡°Lucy¡¯s first client left a rave review. I looked her up, and she actually writes for a newspaper in New York.¡±


    ¡°We should ask if we can put the review on the website, for the spa section.¡±


    Sarah nods. ¡°And who knows? Maybe she just happens to write for the travel section¡­¡±


    ¡°This is great. Good thinking with the review cards.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Sarah nces at Logan, and I can tell she wants to say something else, but not in front of him. Rare are the times she will censor herself in her sisterly critique and I groan inwardly. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be subjected to another lecture soon enough, and I¡¯d just gotten her to shut up about the blind date thing. There are a few strategies to counter my little sister.


    I choose diversion. ¡°Wedding season ising up. A few couples have been in contact to ask for a tour of the property. Can you do it?¡±


    It works. ¡°Yes, of course! I love wedding season. Are there more bookings this year thanst?¡±


    ¡°If bookings keeping in at the current rate, yeah, there will be.¡±


    Sarah drapes an arm around Logan¡¯s chair. ¡°Weddings are the best, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    He nods.


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of electrical work in hosting weddings. All those string lights.¡±


    I have to hide a smile as he nods again. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯d be happy to help out.¡±


    She straightens. ¡°Great! We¡¯d love to have you. Well, I¡¯ll talk to youter. Text me with the dates for the wedding guests.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    Logan groans the second the door shuts behind her. ¡°You¡¯ve roped her into this too?¡±


    ¡°Into what?¡±


    ¡°Into your grand scheme of getting me around here as much as possible.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t say Mandy¡¯s name, but he doesn¡¯t have to. It¡¯s clear in every line of his body. ¡°Sarah¡¯s a hopeless romantic. I didn¡¯t have to say a thing.¡±


    It¡¯ste when I head down to the stables. Rare are the times when I have time to ride these days, but I try to check up on the animals whenever I can. This was once a working ranch, my grandfather¡¯s pride and joy, and although we only have a few horses left, I¡¯m proud of that. There¡¯s a bit of Texas still, amongst these pruned and plucked guests from out-of-state.


    I¡¯m halfway across the gravel path when I hear shrieks andughter. The sound is unmistakably feminine, though I hear male voices too. My steps quicken.


    I turn the corner and my heart stops.


    John and Tim are spraying Lucy with the garden hose, the one used to cool down the horses. Her sundress clings to her body, soaked to the skin, and herughter rings clear. Every shape and curve is visible through the fabric. Strong thighs, red hips. The cotton clings to a smooth stomach and even from this distance, I can see that her nipples are hard from the cold.


    John swings the hose around, hitting Tim, who lets out a massive shriek.


    ¡°But I¡¯m not muddy!¡±


    Lucy looks up. Our gazes lock, and I see her eyes widen with surprise. I step forward and turn the knob on the faucet, cutting off the water supply. The spray putters and dies in John¡¯s hand.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    Tim looks shell shocked. ¡°Sorry, boss.¡±


    ¡°We were just having a bit of fun,¡± John says. ¡°It¡¯s warm out.¡±


    Lucy clears her throat. ¡°I slipped in some mud by the east paddock. Tim offered to help me clean off, and, well¡­¡± She crosses her arms across her chest and looks away, her cheeks flushing a violent shade of red.


    This won¡¯t do.


    It won¡¯t do at all.


    ¡°So you three decided to have a wet t-shirt contest on my property?¡±


    The silence is terrible, and some of my anger fades. Idiots. ¡°Tim, go change into dry clothes. If you don¡¯t have any, you¡¯re relieved for the rest of your shift. John, I want you to mow some grass. Find some far, far away from the main building.¡±


    They both nod. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    They¡¯re gone within a heartbeat and I¡¯m left looking at Lucy, who¡¯s shivering and blushing and still practically naked. I shrug out of my nnel and hand it to her.


    ¡°Here.¡± Her hair is half-wet, a tendril curling down her neck. I look away as she shrugs into my button-up, pulling it tight around her body and hiding the outline of her full breasts from view.


    She looks down at the ground and I have no idea what to say. I¡¯m angry and annoyed and aroused and protective and jealous of my fucking farmhands.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    Lucy nods. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m sorry. I really did slip in the mud, and I didn¡¯t mean for it to escte like that¡­¡±

 Chapter 19

    ¡°You were raised in the country,¡± I say. ¡°You can take care of yourself.¡±


    It¡¯s the wrong thing to say, apparently, because she looks away again and her blush deepens. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It was unprofessional.¡±


    I can¡¯t argue with that-it was. It¡¯s also not her fault. ¡°There¡¯s a shower in the staff changing room in the main house. I¡¯m sure there are fresh clothes around, as well. Just ask Mandy or-¡±


    ¡°I have an extra set,¡± she says quietly. ¡°Thank you, though.¡±


    And then she¡¯s off, walking away from me with the jerky movements of someone who would rather run but knows they can¡¯t. My shirt is big on her. It looks good, with the shape of her legs entirely visible through the clinging fabric of her dress. The need that sweeps through my body at the sight nearly takes my breath away.


    ¡°Fucking hell.¡± I¡¯m no better than the men I im to despise-than fucking Gavin Whittaker. I need to have a talk with my farmhands.


    And I need to have a talk with myself.


    She¡¯s not mine; not to protect and not to defend. And she¡¯s certainly not mine to lust over. And yet, I have a feeling that I won¡¯t be able to get the sight of her body, luscious and wet, out of my mind.


    I¡¯m so embarrassed.


    It¡¯s all I can think about as I turn and toss that night. Despite the open window, the sheets cling to my skin. The sleepless hours give me plenty of time to run through what happened again, and again, and again.


    I had tripped and gotten mud all along my bare leg, right up to the edge of my dress. It was embarrassing, sure, but a minor incident. Tim had been kind enough to help me out.


    John had knocked him aside, and the water had gone everywhere.


    It hadn¡¯t been more than a few seconds before I was soaked entirely and a water fight began, and somehow, Tim got sprayed too. It would have been a fun, slightly unprofessional encounter if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that Oliver saw us.


    And he didn¡¯t just see us. He saw all of me.


    If I¡¯d had a spoon, I¡¯d been tunneling my way to China before he¡¯d even opened his mouth. And the whipsh strength in his words, the anger in his eyes-he¡¯d called it a wet-t-shirt contest.


    You can take care of yourself.


    He¡¯d had handed me his shirt, and I couldn¡¯t decide if it was a gant gesture or if it made me feel mortified to be asked to cover up.


    I¡¯d barely walked out of there with my dignity intact. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to show up tomorrow for my next appointment with my head held high.


    This couldn¡¯t be happening again. I couldn¡¯t screw up this job-not with this sort of thing!-and not when I¡¯d tried so hard to make it work.


    I feared I¡¯d lost the way Oliver looked at me, the mixture of challenge and interest in his blue eyes. My days were better when I saw him, however brief the encounter.


    As I work in the bakery that morning, I make myself a promise. I can¡¯t be the slightest bit unprofessional. No more sitting on his back porch, no more lounging with Mandy in reception. No more wet t-shirt contests, God forbid.


    I can¡¯t screw this up.


    The morning shift runs smoothly. Both ire and Phil are there, and seeing their sweet interactions is more than enough to cause a corresponding longing in my own heart. They have what my parents did, before the divorce. What I hope to one day have.


    I overhear them talking in the kitchen as I¡¯m stacking baguettes in the front.


    ¡°Are you making sugar cookies today? It¡¯s been a while since you made those.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± ire says. ¡°Sarah called mest night. There¡¯s a PTA meeting at the school tomorrow and she¡¯s wondering if I could make a batch of end-of-school-year cookies for her.¡±


    ¡°End-of-school-year cookies?¡±


    I hear her happy reply. ¡°A graduation cap, or red apples. A green chalkboard. There are tons of options!¡±


    I nce back just in time to see Uncle Phil press a kiss to her cheek. ¡°You¡¯re the beating heart of this ce. You know that, right?¡±


    I smile as I finish up the rest of the stacking. Sometimes I think I¡¯ll never find what they have, but seeing it up close gives me hope.


    My stomach is a ball of nerves as I cycle up to the ranch after lunch. My client isn¡¯t for another two hours, but I want to make sure everything is prepped and ready. And if I can, I want to talk to Oliver and apologize for the incident yesterday. I won¡¯t be able to let go of what happened if I don¡¯t see him-see in his eyes that I didn¡¯t mess something up.


    Mandy¡¯s standing on the porch by reception when I arrive, giving me a massive wave. ¡°Hiya!


    ¡°Hey.¡± I park my bike. ¡°What are you doing out here?¡±


    ¡°Waiting for a delivery. They called and said they should be here any minute.¡± She leans in closer, and I can see her eyes are sparkling. ¡°I heard you had some fun yesterday with the boys.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t remind me.¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    ¡°Why not? Did something happen? Tim and Jack didn¡¯t do something wrong, did they?¡±


    ¡°No, not at all. We were just ying around. But I think we annoyed the boss a bit.¡±


    Mandy waves that off. ¡°He¡¯s like that with everyone.¡±


    I¡¯m not really sure if I agree with that. ¡°Not with his sister, or with his friend, Logan.¡±


    She frowns. ¡°Yeah, well, men don¡¯t always act the same around everyone.¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re right about that,¡± I say, thinking of Kyle. ¡°Do you know if Sarah is around?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s in the staff kitchen. Why?¡±


    ¡°I want to talk to her about something. See youter?¡±


    Mandy smiles and I head through reception, back to where Sarah is carefully folding napkins. She seems to have a hand in all kinds of pies, but I haven¡¯t missed the fact that it¡¯s Oliver who¡¯s here from sun-down to sun-up.


    She grins at me. ¡°Lucy! Are you ready for your next client? Here, have a croissant.¡± She pushes one my way across the kitchen ind. ¡°We have some left-overs from the breakfast buffet.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m stuffed. I have an idea I want to talk to you about.¡±


    ¡°Shoot.¡±


    ¡°You know how we spoke about maybe having yoga in the spa? In the main room?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve already included it in the package we¡¯re putting together for wedding receptions and bachelorette parties. It¡¯s a great idea, Luce.¡±


    ¡°What if we had a weekly ss for people from town? It would bring in extra ie and it might introduce the spa to the people of remont. Give back to themunity a bit.¡±

 Chapter 20

    Sarah¡¯s eyes ze over. ¡°Oh my god, Lucy. That¡¯s perfect! We are definitely doing that. I¡¯ll be there, of course. I know at least¡­ five women who would love to join a yoga ss. No, ten. At least ten.¡±


    I chuckle. ¡°We could order yoga mats in bulk and I can set up the main space. Maybe we could do it on the weekend?¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t sh with church,¡± she says immediately. ¡°Mrs. Masters would have a fit. Saturday noon? That feels like a good yoga time.¡±


    ¡°Sounds perfect.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Lucy, I¡¯m so happy you came to work here. So few of the people from town have been up at the Ranch since it opened as a retreat and I¡¯ve been trying to think of more ways we could get involved in themunity, but this is perfect. We¡¯ll have the massage treatments posted in the spa by then, as well.¡± She winks. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure we get some more work for you, don¡¯t you worry.¡±


    The ball of nerves in my stomach lessens, just a tad. She¡¯s not Oliver, but she clearly likes me still-despite my little garden hose incident. I just have to make sure that I keep it that way; professional, helpful and positive, that¡¯s my new creed.


    But then Sarah shoots up from her chair. ¡°Oliver¡¯s upstairs, I just saw him. Let¡¯s ask him what he thinks right away.¡±


    ¡°If he¡¯s working, I don¡¯t think we should bother-¡±


    But Sarah¡¯s already by the stairs. ¡°Oliveeeer!¡±N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    I hear the half-snarled, half-yelled response. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Can youe down for a bit?¡±


    I hear heavy footsteps heading down the stairs only a few secondster. For such arge man, he moves surprisingly fast. His body is just another weapon in his arsenal. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if he secretly worked out at dawn, running the trails around the ranch. I think of the scar on his torso. I think of his abs.


    I think of how angry he was yesterday.


    Oliver stops by the doorway and my heart does a double take. He¡¯s just as handsome as he was yesterday.


    ¡°What do you want, Sarah?¡±


    ¡°Lucy had the best idea. Here, have a seat. Do you want a croissant?¡±


    I see him shake his head from the corner of his eye, gaze flicking to me. ¡°No. What idea is this?¡±


    I put my hands down on the kitchen ind. ¡°We could have yoga sses in the spa for the people of remont.¡±


    ¡°Yoga?¡±


    ¡°Lucy is also a licensed instructor,¡± Sarah says. ¡°We could run a trial session on a Saturday. It would introduce everyone to the spa and we could hand out brochures with the different treatments.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not guests.¡±


    ¡°I know that, silly,¡± sheughs. ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s perfect! We haven¡¯t really done anything to give back to town.¡±


    Oliver¡¯s frown deepens, and I¡¯m fairly sure that of all possible arguments, that one is definitely not going to convince him. ¡°We could ask for reviews or testimonials and use them on the website. Running a trial session will also allow us to iron out any kinks before I potentially run a ss for actual guests. And having a weekly ss allows guests to join if they want, without having to schedule a private session. That would work for when the Ranch is only half-booked.¡±


    I hope I¡¯m making sense. I don¡¯t know how you run a hotel, but I do know a bit about running a spa-and a bakery.


    Oliver is looking straight at me and I can feel the heat creeping up again, just thinking about yesterday. His eyes give nothing away. I can¡¯t tell if he hates me and wants to fire me or if he¡¯s forgotten all about it the hose incident. Somehow, I doubt it¡¯s thetter.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good idea,¡± he says. ¡°What do we need to order?¡±


    ¡°Yes! You¡¯re the best thing that¡¯s ever happened to us, Luce.¡± Sarah grins and leans over the ind to give me a high five.


    I feel like pulling a face at the exaggerated praise, especially with him there, but I force a smile. ¡°We need yoga mats,¡± I tell him. ¡°Maybe around fifteen. I think that¡¯s the maximum amount of people that willfortably fit in the big room. We already have speakers and essential oil burners, so that¡¯s it, really.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all? Really?¡±


    I nod. ¡°It doesn¡¯t take much.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll start calling people,¡± Sarah deres. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can get fifteen people together before next Saturday.¡±


    Oliver holds out a hand to stop her. ¡°Only if Lucy is ready andfortable with that. It¡¯d be quite soon,¡± he tells me. ¡°And you already know how people from town can be.¡±


    ¡°I am. I will be. I¡¯m just really thankful for the chance to work here, doing this sort of thing.¡± I hold his gaze and the tension between us builds, just slightly.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sarah grin. ¡°Well, I have things to do. See youter, you two. Ta ta, as the Brits say!¡± The door shuts behind her.


    I clear my throat. Without thinking much about it, I reach for the croissant on the table, desperate for something to do.


    Oliver runs a hand through his hair. The silence is deafening.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry-¡±


    ¡°I think I-¡±


    ¡°Sorry?¡±


    He shakes his head. ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    I bite my lip. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about yesterday. Truly, I didn¡¯t mean for that to happen. I¡¯m not usually unprofessional, and I hope I can prove that.¡±


    Oliver¡¯s gaze softens, just a bit, and I see the man I shared lunch with again. The one who tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and made my mouth dry. It¡¯s impossible to forget how physically impressive he is, or how attractive he is, but at times like this¡­ all that is second to his eyes.


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have barked at you like that,¡± he says. ¡°Tim and Jack were goofing around, and I figured you needed help. If they ever bother you, youe to me, okay?¡±


    ¡°They weren¡¯t bothering me, truly. I really did fall in the mud. For a yoga instructor, I¡¯m not always the most graceful.¡±


    ¡°What were you doing out by the east paddock?¡±


    I want to hide from his gaze, from admitting the truth, from letting him see so much. I don¡¯t. ¡°I wanted to say hi the horses.¡±


    Oliver¡¯s lip curls. ¡°You like horses?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m from a small town, remember?¡±


    ¡°Do you know how to ride?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s been years since Ist did it.¡±

 Chapter 21

    He runs a hand through his thick hair again, and it does something to me. It makes me want to rece it with my own, to stretch up on my tip-toes, to see if those wide shoulders are as hard to the touch as they look.


    ¡°You¡¯re free to go for a ride on the trails whenever you want,¡± he says. ¡°As long as we¡¯re not booked for a guided trail ride that day.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±He nods. ¡°Really. I can take you out myself one day. If you¡¯d like to.¡±


    ¡°I would, yes. Thanks.¡±


    Oliver nods, and for a second, he doesn¡¯t look like a gruff Marine or my six-foot-two boss. He looks pleased, and a little bit unsure of himself. It makes my chest tighten.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring your nnel tomorrow,¡± I say. ¡°I¡¯ve washed it, too.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about,¡± he says, a hand on the doorway. ¡°And Lucy?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t eat that croissant. There are fresh ones in the cupboard by the fridge.¡±


    He walks up the stairs and I¡¯m left with a warm glow in my chest, a riding date semi-confirmed with my too-handsome-for-his-own-good boss, and a yoga ss to teach.


    If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say life was pretty perfect.


    Damn, but Lucy Rhodes is gorgeous. It¡¯s all I can think of these days.


    I walk out to get something from the boot of my car and I see her leaning against the door of the studio. I catch a glimpse of her hair shining in the sunlight and her long legs on disy, and it¡¯s like glimpsing a piece of heaven.


    She has a direct hotline to my groin and to my chest, making both tighten at the sight of her. It¡¯s all too easy to imagine gathering her by the waist and pulling her close. Sliding her tank top to the side and touching my lips to her lightly freckled skin. I¡¯m not a boy in puberty anymore, but damn if she doesn¡¯t make me feel that way.Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    Hiring her was a mistake. I¡¯d told myself I was humoring my sister, but in reality, I was humoring my own curiosity. The problem being, of course, that having her work for me hasn¡¯t sated my curiosity in the least.


    It¡¯s only piqued it.


    I nce at the clock by my desk. It¡¯s just past three in the afternoon. Most of the guests would be out for the day, and Lucy¡¯s client would have finished about fifteen minutes ago. I should be able to catch her before she bikes back to town.


    Thankfully, Jack and Tim are not working today-so I have no one to avoid as I walk the gravel path down to the spa. Austin pads along beside me, his tongue out.


    Lucy¡¯s client emerges from the spa just as I¡¯m heading up the path. She flicks back expertly dyed hair and runs a hand over her dress. Damn. I thought I¡¯d be in the clear. Thedy arrived two days ago with her husband, but whenever he¡¯s away, she entertains herself by flirting with me.


    Her eyes light up when she sees me. ¡°Mr. Morris himself, if I¡¯m not mistaken?¡±


    ¡°Hello, Mrs. Reston. How was the treatment?¡±


    ¡°Oh, just wonderful. It¡¯s important to stretch every now and then, release all the tension. But then, I¡¯m sure you know that.¡±


    I don¡¯t return her smile. ¡°Sure.¡±


    She nces back to the spa, and then towards me. I don¡¯t like the heavy meaning in her gaze. ¡°Is it time for your treatment, Oliver? May I call you Oliver?¡±


    ¡°Just checking up on my employees. Have a good day, ma¡¯am.¡±


    She chuckles. ¡°Ma¡¯am. I¡¯m not that old. See youter, then.¡±


    As she passes me, her hand grazes my arm, across my bicep. It takes considerable willpower to resist pulling away. She saunters off and I head towards the spa.


    Lucy is standing right inside the door. She¡¯s wearing an amused smile, her eyes alight with mischief.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°That must happen all the time, right?¡±


    I shrug. ¡°asionally.¡±


    She¡¯s still smiling as she folds arge white towel. ¡°It must get tempting.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯d sleep with my guests?¡±


    Lucy looks up. ¡°No. I didn¡¯t mean to imply that you did.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. But for the record, I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Good to know.¡± She puts a stack of clean and folded towels away. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Are you done for today?¡±


    ¡°I am, yeah.¡±


    I lean against the doorframe. ¡°Let¡¯s go horseback riding.¡±


    A grin spreads across her face. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. If you¡¯re still up for it.¡±


    ¡°Of course I am, are you kidding me? Let¡¯s go.¡±


    I can¡¯t help but smile at her enthusiasm. ¡°Come on. Austin can be our guide.¡±


    She gives me a wide, warm smile as we head to the stables. Her happiness is infectious. ¡°I¡¯m going to insist you wear a helmet, you know.¡±


    She scoffs. ¡°I¡¯d be mad if you didn¡¯t. What kind of establishment are you running here, Mr. Morris?¡±


    ¡°I ask myself that daily.¡±


    She chuckles. ¡°Well, you¡¯re rated close to five stars on TripAdvisor, so you¡¯re clearly doing something right.¡±


    We¡¯re greeted by the familiar smell of hay and horse. Two of the mares whinny loudly, probably in the hopes that we¡¯re bringing food. Lucy stops by Ginger and runs a hand down her smooth, auburn neck. ¡°Aren¡¯t you a pretty girl?¡±


    I stop at Whiskey¡¯s pen and watch as they interact. ¡°Do you visit them often?¡±


    ¡°I try to swing by every day, actually. I hope you don¡¯t mind?¡±

 Chapter 22

    ¡°No, they needpany.¡± Whiskey is nibbling at the pocket of my jeans and I gently push him away. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring anything, boy. Next time.¡±


    ¡°Is he yours?¡± Lucy asks. ¡°Well, technically, I guess they all are, but-¡±


    ¡°He is, yes. About half the horses belong to the ranch. The others belong to people in town. They use this as a boarding stable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nice of you.¡±


    ¡°We have the space, and most horses likepany. Come on. Let¡¯s saddle up.¡±


    I¡¯m ready to help her up onto Ginger, but Lucy swings up gracefully on her own. She¡¯s still in those tight pants and the visual nearly gives me a semi. I¡¯m far too attracted to this girl for my own good, or for hers, for that matter. Last night I had woken up hard and panting, the image of her half-soaked dress seared into my mind.


    I need to get a grip.Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    ¡°Are you good up there?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m great. This really is like riding a bike, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°It is. Don¡¯t let the horses hear youpare them to bikes, though.¡±


    Lucyughs again. We set off down the path behind the farmhouse, Whiskey taking the lead. He knows these trails just as well as me, and I won¡¯t have to give much direction, which leaves plenty of time to talk to Lucy-to get her tough again.


    She¡¯s tracing patterns along Ginger¡¯s neck. ¡°Did you ride often as a kid?¡±


    ¡°Yes. My dad was big on that sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°He was the mayor, right?¡±


    My voice is dry. ¡°You caught that, did you?¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be. It¡¯s practically associated with the Morris name here. My grandfather held the position for about a decade, too.¡±


    ¡°The first family of remont,¡± she teases softly, but I hear the hesitancy in her voice. I hate that it¡¯s because of me; because she doesn¡¯t know how I¡¯ll react. I hate that people are careful around me. I hate that I¡¯ve given them a reason to be.


    ¡°Exactly. My mom was practically a First Lady, hosting town luncheons and organizing church bazaars.¡± I hold up two intertwined fingers. ¡°She was like this with Mrs. Masters.¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t have been easy to grow up with parents like that.¡±


    It takes me a moment to reply. ¡°It wasn¡¯t always, no.¡±


    ¡°Did they have high expectations?¡±


    I nudge Whiskey on ahead and tug at the saddle. The only way to stop making people ufortable around me is to stop shutting down.


    ¡°Some,¡± I finally say. ¡°My father wasn¡¯t thrilled when I enlisted after college.¡±


    More like ballistic. For a long while, allmunication had passed through Sarah. And then they¡¯d passed, far too early, in an ident that never should have happened.


    Lucy makes a small humming sound. ¡°That must have sucked, Oliver.¡±


    I can¡¯t help it-I let out a surprisedugh. ¡°Yeah, it did. It sucked.¡±


    The teasing is back in her eyes, and it¡¯s like she knows I¡¯ve reached my limit. ¡°But then you ended up back here anyway. Circle of life.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not mayor yet.¡± I tip an imaginary hat. ¡°Just amon rancher, at your service.¡±


    Lucy nudges her horse closer to mine. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know aboutmon.¡±


    ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°No. You made quite the impression, you know. Walking into By the Rhode on my first day.¡±


    I¡¯m not looking at the trail at all at this point. If Whiskey wants to take us to hell and back, I¡¯ll let him. ¡°I remember.¡±


    ¡°I had no idea where your order was.¡±


    ¡°No, that much was obvious.¡±


    Her eyes are sparkling. ¡°And all the while, you just stood there, looking at me. You ass, did you know how nervous I was?¡±


    ¡°Why do you think I took matters into my own hands?¡±


    ¡°Right, you stormed into the kitchen because you¡¯re altruistic.¡±


    ¡°Call me Mother Teresa.¡±


    Lucyughs. ¡°You¡¯re impossible.


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re not what I thought you¡¯d be. What I assumed on that first day.¡±


    She shields her eyes from the sun. ¡°And what did you think I¡¯d be like?¡±


    Whiskey sidles closer to Ginger, nibbling at her harness. ¡°A big-city girl. Afraid of getting dirty. Vegan.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with being vegan?¡±


    ¡°Nothing in particr, I guess,¡± I say. ¡°But you¡¯d be hard-pressed to fit in here.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were that narrow-minded. You¡¯re probably the most well-traveled in this town, you know.¡±


    She¡¯s likely right, but I don¡¯t want to think about my postings. ¡°Why did youe back here?


    ¡°I heard there was a reception hall being terribly misused. I had no choice but to step in.¡± Her green eyes dance with mirth. Our legs touch, wedged in between the horses. I could reach out and rest my hand on her thigh.


    ¡°How kind. You¡¯re so generous,¡± I say dryly.


    ¡°I¡¯m very phnthropic.¡± She flutters hershes in a dramatic gesture, and I can¡¯t help but smile at her. Our eyes catch and hold. Her gaze is warm in mine, and for a few eternity-long seconds, there¡¯s nothing but this. Us together on a leafy trail in the middle of summer.

 Chapter 23

    Austin barks loudly. The sound breaks the tension between us, and we look towards the dog instead. He¡¯s pacing in front of us, tail wagging excitedly.


    Lucy urges Ginger on. ¡°What have you found, boy?¡±


    Whiskey and I follow mutely. It gives me time to recover from her freckled skin and rosy lips. She¡¯s like a cursed mirror in a fairytale; if I look too long, I¡¯m caught.


    ¡°What did he find?¡±


    I hear Lucy¡¯s intake of breath and smile. We¡¯ve reached the look-out spot. She halts Ginger and jumps down, reins in hand, walking to the edge of the glen.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± she breathes.


    Fields stretch out endlessly, the afternoon sun making the wheat look like liquid gold. It smells like summer, the sounds of nature all around us, soft earth beneath our feet.


    ¡°It is.¡± I swing down from Whiskey. ¡°It¡¯s one of the things I missed most when I was away.¡±


    I¡¯ve seen this view a thousand times, but it still has the same heart-stopping effect. The horses are happy for the break and start to nibble at the grass lining the trail.


    Lucy sits down on the ridge, cross-legged, her back to me. Her hair shines in the sunlight. I take a seat next to her, a hand on the ground to steady myself, and try to ignore the ache in my shoulder.


    We watch the view in silence for a few minutes. Our knees touch, but she doesn¡¯t move away.


    ¡°Have you ever done physical therapy for your shoulder?¡±


    Of course, she still noticed. ¡°Yes. I worked on it after the surgery.¡±


    ¡°But it still hurts?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± I say. I¡¯d rather hack the damn arm off than admit that to her.


    She nods like I¡¯ve confirmed something-but not like she believes me. ¡°I could try massaging it some time, if you want. I¡¯ve had patients before who¡¯ve had scarred muscles that needed careful manipting.¡±


    The idea of her soft hands on my skin sends a pure shot of desire racing through me. ¡°Yeah. Maybe.¡±


    Lucy nudges me. ¡°Or you could do yoga with Sarah and me tomorrow. We¡¯re running a trial session with Mandy before next weekend¡¯s grand opening.¡±


    ¡°Yoga¡¯s not really for me.¡±


    ¡°There are some great positions for your shoulder,¡± she says, butughs when she sees my pained expression. ¡°Okay, okay, I¡¯m sorry. I won¡¯t push you.¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    It¡¯s not the yoga that pains me-it¡¯s the mention of positions. My over-active imagination has more than enough fodder already. She doesn¡¯t say anything else, and I try to focus on the view and not on her warm body sitting so close to me.


    ¡°What¡¯s the best view you¡¯ve ever seen?¡±


    ¡°Ever?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±The imagees to me immediately. It¡¯s of a distant time, on distant shores, but the view is brandished in my memory. ¡°I saw the sunrise over the Wadi Rum desert in Jordan once. We were stationed there, and during a full-night of training and drills, the sun rose across the dunes. The desert looked red, colored by the dawn.¡±


    Her eyes are soft. ¡°That sounds beautiful.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± I murmur. It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve thought of that morning. ¡°How about you?¡±


    ¡°This view.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t say that.¡±


    ¡°Why not? It¡¯s the truth.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re making me look bad. Now my answer sounds unappreciative.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve probably seen this view a thousand times, Oliver. It¡¯s my first time. Cut me some ck,¡± she says, shooting me a teasing smile.


    I feel an overwhelming urge to wrap my arm around her, to pull her close and see if her hair smells as good as it did those weeks ago. If she¡¯d melt into my side.


    I resist.


    ¡°You drive a hard bargain.¡±


    ¡°I have two older siblings. I¡¯ve had to learn.¡±


    ¡°Youngest of three?¡±


    She nods. She has a band of freckles from the sun, smattered across her nose.


    I clear my throat. ¡°Well, you know what they say.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±¡±Third time¡¯s the charm.¡±


    Her eyes soften, looking into mine. ¡°tterer,¡± she murmurs.


    There¡¯s no thinking anymore. There are only her eyes, her lips, and the distance between us closing as we lean in. I can feel the faint exhtion of her breath against my lips.


    One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.


    I kiss her.


    Her lips are soft and tentative against mine. She tastes like sweetness and she¡¯s kissing me back so gently it hurts. I can feel my chest tighten, my stomach dip, and I¡¯m lost. I want more-I want everything.


    I pull her against me, align our bodies so that we¡¯re touching. Her heartbeat is wild against my chest. Every part of her is soft, soft where I¡¯m not, and it¡¯s exactly like I suspected-she melts into me. Her breasts tten against my chest and I can¡¯t help the faint groan that escapes me when she runs her tongue along my lower lip.


    All of my blood rushes south. I usually pride myself on my cool head, but it¡¯s a thing of the past as our mouths move in sync. Her tongue meets mine hesitantly, but I¡¯m too hungry for her to give any respite.


    Her fingers in my hair drive me wild and I¡¯m tugging, lifting, fitting her onto myp. My shoulder has sure as hell never felt less pain than it does right now. Her legs wrap around me and I¡¯m conscious of my hands around her waist-of forcing them to stay there, of not grabbing a hold of her luscious ass. I want her closer still; I want to know what her skin feels like, what she tastes like, and it¡¯s taking all of my self-control to go slow.


    Her kisses turn sweet again. She¡¯s tugging at my shoulders and releases a soft, faint sigh of pleasure against my lips. It¡¯s the most beautiful sound I¡¯ve ever heard.


    Lucy pulls back, but I¡¯m not ready yet. I lean forward and press a final kiss to her soft lips. Sheughs breathlessly when we break apart. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen, but her eyes are teasing when she looks at me. I keep my hands around her waist. They belong there-she belongs in my arms.


    ¡°Whoops,¡± she murmurs.

 Chapter 24

    I smooth my thumbs up her ribs, just barely grazing the underside of her breasts. ¡°Is that a good kind of whoops?¡±


    Lucy blushes further, and I¡¯ve changed my mind. It¡¯s not a sunrise over a distant, foreign desert. It¡¯s this; Lucy with tousled hair and flushed cheeks, nestled in my arms.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean toe on to you,¡± she says.


    ¡°Does it seem like I mind?¡±


    Sheughs and extricates herself from my hold. She stands, reaching out to hold onto a tree trunk as if she¡¯s unsteady. My hands are still warm from holding her.


    ¡°Lucy?¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± she says, and I want to tell her that I feel the same way. That nothing has gotten my heart pumping like that for ages; that I want to kiss her until I can¡¯t see straight.


    I get up too, but she steps past me when I reach out to take her hand, grabbing Ginger¡¯s reins instead. She murmurs something to the horse and runs a hand down the speckled neck, her back turned to me. I stand there and watch her for a long moment. My heartbeat slows, and it takes a few painful breaths before I get my desire under control.


    I can take a hint. ¡°Do you want to go back?¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s for the best. It¡¯s probably gettingte.¡±N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    Judging by the sun, it¡¯s not even five o¡¯clock, but I humor her. ¡°Sure. Lead the way.¡±


    We stable the horses in silence, and although it¡¯s not strained, it¡¯s not exactlypanionable, either. Somehow, I seem to have fucked it all up, and I don¡¯t even know how it happened. We¡¯d been so close at the ridge.


    She turns to me with a smile. It¡¯s carefree, but it doesn¡¯t really reach her eyes. It pains me to see.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Right. You¡¯re doing the trial ss with the girls?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±¡±You¡¯ll do great, Lucy.¡±


    We walk out of the stables in silence. My hand aches to take hers, to pull her close and make sure she doesn¡¯t think it was a mistake. To know that she feels the same way I do. She¡¯d been so soft, so responsive in my arms-I had been so sure she wanted what I wanted.


    Lucy stops by the courtyard and looks up at me with those wide, green eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry again, Oliver.¡±


    ¡°Why are you apologizing?¡±


    ¡°It was unprofessional. I-¡±


    ¡°If it was unprofessional, then we were both to me,¡± I say. ¡°I don¡¯t regret it and I hope you don¡¯t either.¡±


    Her eyes warm and she bites her lip, looking up at me. She¡¯s so unexpectedly sexy that it feels like a punch to the gut. I need to get a grip.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she murmurs. ¡°Then I don¡¯t regret it either.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    She shoots me a final smile. It¡¯s a little shy. ¡°Bye, Oliver.¡±


    ¡°Bye, Lucy.¡±


    I watch as she climbs onto that deadly bike of hers-she stopped letting me give her a ride weeks ago-and disappears in the distance. I stand there for a long time, watching the dust rise from her tires and then settle.


    It¡¯s not fair, what I do then. I know I¡¯m a piece of shit for even contemting it. But there¡¯s just no other way to get rid of my impossible hard-on, and believe me, I¡¯d tried reasoning with it before. But where Lucy is involved, it refuses to listen to logic of any kind.


    It¡¯s basically soundproofed to facts.


    I head to the farmhouse and close the door to my bathroom. Making quick work of my jeans and my t-shirt, I turn on the shower head and fit my hand around my shaft. I¡¯m already throbbing-I¡¯ve been aching for release since she sat in myp.


    Need is pounding through my hips, my pelvis, so strong I have to brace myself against the shower wall as I start to stroke. Images of her sh before my eyes. Bright eyes and tight shorts. I imagine sliding them down her hips, rewarded with the image of dainty underwear. I would slide her panties to the side and reveal the most beautiful pussy I¡¯d everid eyes on. I don¡¯t even have to see it to know that Lucy¡¯s will take the prize.


    I grip my cock harder and imagine that it¡¯s her gripping me, weing me into her slick warmth, that I can feel her soft body pressing against mine. Her breasts had been soft through the shirt, pressed against my chest.


    My balls ache and contract as need races through me. It¡¯d been a long time since I¡¯ve been this painfully hard.


    Lucy¡¯s body would twist and twine underneath mine, soft and willing. I could practically see it. Hell, I still felt the softness of her lips on mine. My hand tightens and I¡¯m pumping fast now. I should go slower, make my grip gentler, but I have no control. I need release.


    Fantasies dance before my eyes. Lucy in her soaked dress. Lucy in my arms. Lucy whispering my name. Lucy¡¯s tight, sweet pussy epting all of me.


    I groan loudly as tingles start at the base of my spine. Every part of me feels electrocuted. Ie so hard I see stars, shooting ropes of cum. I watch as they¡¯re washed down the drain. My legs are wobbly and my chest heaving as I give the sensitive head one final stroke.


    Fuck.


    She¡¯s my employee, she¡¯s so good, and so decidedly out of my league. She pulled away after I kissed her and she was clearly here to escape from something in her past. I know all of this.


    Still, I also know that the need I¡¯d just released would return. I nce down at my sated cock, hanging thick between my thighs, and sigh.


    This feels doomed to be a daily routine.


    My heart is pounding, and not just from the bike ride up to the Ranch.


    I want to see Oliver again. I know I shouldn¡¯t-I know that starting something with him could jeopardize everything, my job here, my ce in remont-but it¡¯s impossible not to want him. I¡¯ve been reying the kiss over and over since yesterday.


    I¡¯ve never been kissed like that before. It felt like I was all he wanted and all he needed. Like he¡¯d rather die than stop for air. His hands on my waist had gripped and tugged, pulled me onto hisp-I¡¯d been able to feel his hardness. Being in his arms had felt more right than anything had for months.


    A not so small part of me is angry that I pulled away. The other part likes to remind me of what happened at my old job, of the usations of improper behavior. They hadn¡¯t been true then, but if I started something with Oliver, they would be this time.


    You make an easy target if you sleep with the boss.


    That unfortunate fact remains true even if that boss is a hot-as-hell ranch owner with muscr arms and a crooked smile. Even if he has blue eyes and thick, golden hair.


    When my client propositioned him yesterday, I listened with bated breath to see if he took her up on the offer. A man who looks like that¡­ but he hadn¡¯t. He hadn¡¯t seemed remotely interested and t-out denied it when I tried to make ame joke about it.


    Oliver¡¯s pride seems unbending, and he¡¯s a man of his word. I know enough about him to see the high standards he holds himself and the people around him ountable to. The man might be handsome as sin, but inside he was beautiful.


    Mandy and Sarah are already sitting on the porch when I arrive.


    ¡°Hi, guys!¡±

 Chapter 25

    ¡°Lucy, look!¡± Sarah does a 360 spin to show off her yoga pants. ¡°I¡¯m actually using them to do yoga in!¡±


    Iugh. ¡°That¡¯s great.¡±


    Mandy gets up from the chair and stretches. ¡°You¡¯re stilling to the fair tonight, right?¡±


    ¡°Yep. I¡¯ll actually be manning the bakery stand for a while, so you have toe by and buy some cookies.¡±


    She puts a hand on her chest. ¡°It¡¯s a tough job, but someone¡¯s gotta do it.¡±


    They head down the porch and we walk together towards the spa. It¡¯s a beautiful day; a clear blue sky without a cloud in sight. The town fair, I had been told, was the pride and joy of remont¡¯s social calendar. Every year the nningmittee sought to top the one prior, and the entire town pulled together to make the day as special as possible.


    Sarah unlocks the door to the spa. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m doing yoga,¡± she says. ¡°So I can eat your aunt¡¯s cookiester.¡±


    Mandyughs. ¡°As if you wouldn¡¯t anyway.¡±


    Sarah pretends to look affronted. ¡°Are you saying I can¡¯t control myself around baked goods?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saying you do what you want, when you want.¡±


    They unroll their mats, side by side, while I roll mine out in the front. It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve taught others. I might know the movements by heart, but I¡¯m still happy we decided on running a trial ss.


    Sarah sits down cross-legged on her mat. ¡°Jack does say Ick impulse control.¡±


    ¡°Is he bringing the kids tonight?¡±


    She nods. ¡°They¡¯re so excited for it, it¡¯s like Christmas.¡±


    ¡°They love the merry-go-round, right?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s their favorite.¡±


    ¡°Nora barely spoke of anything else thest time I saw her,¡± Mandy says with a smile.


    I shake my head at them. ¡°Are you guys ready to start?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve even turned off my phone,¡± Mandy confirms. ¡°I¡¯m ready for st off.¡±


    Sarah rolls her eyes. ¡°Dork.¡±


    It¡¯s so good to be back on the mat like this, to be stretching out and rxing. The routine I¡¯ve chosen is an easy one, with plenty of soft poses in between the difficult ones. I correct their downward dogs and remind them of their breathing. For a long while, we practice in blessed silence, nothing but the sound of our movements and slow breathing.


    It¡¯s nearly an hour and a halfter when we finish with thest pose and just rx on the mats. The sound of birds and the hum of nature filters in from the meadow beyond, and the air smells of lemongrass from the essential oil burner.


    I¡¯m entirely rxed.


    Correction-I should be entirely rxed.Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    Because the calmer my mind gets, the more it drifts to Oliver¡¯s lips on mine. They tingle at the memory. I clench my hand into a fist and try to force the image of him to disappear. Rx. Don¡¯t have R-rated fantasies of your boss.


    ¡°Come on, you two,¡± I say, sitting up into a lotus position. ¡°Time to slowly return to the real world, and to thank each other for the practice.¡±


    Sarah doesn¡¯t open her eyes. ¡°But I¡¯m finally rxed. No dishes to do, no children climbing about.¡±


    I grin. ¡°Come on.¡±


    ¡°Just five more minutes?¡±


    Mandy and I pull her up into standing,ughing. ¡°We have a fair to get ready for.¡±


    The midday sun is hot as we walk back along the gravel path. I¡¯ve spent more time outside in the past few weeks than I did for years in Das, cooped up in dimly lit treatment rooms, and it shows. My skin is more tan, yes, but I feel much brighter. Funny that I never realized how much I missed the sun.


    Sarah shoots Mandy a sly look. ¡°Is Loganing to the fair tonight?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. You¡¯d have to ask him.¡±


    I can clearly hear the tightness in her voice. ¡°Maybe he will, if Oliver is going. Don¡¯t they go way back?¡±


    Sarah nods. ¡°Years and years. But Oliver isn¡¯ting. He¡¯s a lost cause.¡±


    ¡°Really? I thought that-¡±


    A car honks on the driveway, the motor idling.


    ¡°Shoot, he¡¯s early.¡± Mandy swings her bag up on her shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s my brother. I¡¯ll head home and get ready. See you both at the fair?¡±


    ¡°Text me when you get there.¡±


    Mandy takes off at a light jog and the car door ms behind her. I barely have time to see the driver before it takes off in a huff, dust rising from the dry gravel.


    Sarah shakes her head. ¡°I do wish she and Logan worked out.¡±


    ¡°Do you know why they¡¯re¡­ the way they are?¡±


    ¡°Something happened in the past.¡± Sarah waves a hand. ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll get over it.¡±


    I think back to how some of my friends stood up for Kyle, despite what he¡¯d done, just because of his high-paying job. ¡°Sometimes the past matters.¡±


    Shrewd eyes look at me, and not for the first time, I get the feeling that under her bubbly facade Sarah is an excellent judge of character. ¡°Yes, sometimes it does. The ss you just led was fantastic, by the way.¡±


    ¡°You think?¡±


    ¡°Yes. This town won¡¯t know what hit them.¡±


    My smile is entirely genuine. ¡°That¡¯s amazing. I¡¯m excited to get started on flyers.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ll make sure to let people know tonight, too. Anyone who is anyone will be at the fair.¡±


    I push my hair back and try to keep my voice neutral. ¡°But not Oliver?¡±

 Chapter 26

    She sighs. ¡°No. I¡¯ve tried to convince him for days, but he just says that it doesn¡¯t interest him.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s not seen around town that often.¡±


    ¡°He says he doesn¡¯t like it anymore.¡± Sarah leans closer, her voice conspiratorial. ¡°He used to be such a lively guy.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    Sarah nods. ¡°The life of the party. Sure, he was always a bit rough around the edges, but the whole town loved him. I used to be so envious of that, of his easy smiles and poprity.¡±


    I frown at the wistful way she¡¯s describing him. ¡°I think he¡¯s still pretty lively.¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course, Luce. I¡¯m not trying to imply that my brother isn¡¯t still a great guy. He is. The greatest. But something changed after he came back¡­ he just wasn¡¯t the same. Not as quick tough, or to smile. There¡¯s wariness in his eyes that I¡¯m not sure will ever go away.¡±


    I think of the sly smile he¡¯d shot me yesterday and how his entire being had seemed to rx out by the glen.


    I don¡¯t for a second believe he¡¯s a lost cause.


    ¡°I think what¡¯s been hardest on him has been this town. Everyone¡¯s poking and prodding, you know?¡±


    ¡°Nothing ever stays secret in remont.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. And if you¡¯re a private person¡­¡± Sarah shrugs. ¡°That¡¯s hard. Even now, on a Saturday, he¡¯s working.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±Yes. He¡¯s up in that office right now, working away. I said hi earlier. I¡¯m sorry, but I have to run. I have to go get the kids ready.¡± She rolls her eyes. ¡°My youngest said she wanted to wear her swimsuit, so I¡¯m probably looking at a thirty minute fight just to get her into anything else.¡±


    ¡°Of course, go ahead. I¡¯ll see you down there tonight.¡±


    ¡°Do you want a ride?¡±


    ¡°No, I borrowed my aunt¡¯s car today.¡±


    ¡°Right, well, see youter then.¡± Sarah waves and heads off towards her car, and before I have time to start towards mine, she¡¯s fired up the engine.


    I nce back towards the big house. Working away, huh? I fumble with my car keys as she drives away, and just as she disappears from view, I turn and head back to the main house.


    My heart is beating fast. We haven¡¯t spoken since the kiss, not since I apologized and he asked me not to. His eyes had been soft, softer than I¡¯d ever seen them before.


    I don¡¯t know which Oliver I¡¯ll encounter now. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s the one who was so angry at me, Jack and Tim, or if it¡¯s the one who shared his lunch with me behind his house. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m going to say about the kiss. Great, Lucy, I think. I¡¯m going in blind, but the desire to see him again is overwhelming.


    The door to his office is half-closed. I pause, suddenly remembering that I¡¯m dressed in old yoga pants and a sweaty top. I¡¯m not wearing a shred of make-up.


    ¡°Sarah? Is that you?¡±


    I freeze in the hallway, caught between my desire to find a mirror and the draw of his deep voice. Thetter wins. It wasn¡¯t really a fair contest, anyway.


    I push open the door. ¡°It¡¯s me. Am I bothering you?¡±


    Oliver¡¯s hair is messy and his green sweater is casual. He looks as if it¡¯s his day off, like he¡¯s not in armor, and my chest warms at the sight.C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    ¡°Hi,¡± he says. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting you.¡±


    I don¡¯t miss how his eyes momentarily flick down my body. We¡¯re both dressed down today, and there¡¯s an unexpected intimacy in that. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to barge in.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re never a bother.¡± His eyes are dark and piercing, and I know he¡¯s thinking about the exact same thing that I am. About our kiss yesterday. How close we had gotten, out there in the glen. I lean against the door frame, my mind nk.


    ¡°I wanted to say thank you for yesterday.¡±


    ¡°It was my pleasure. You¡¯re a really good rider.¡± His smile is crooked. ¡°Well, for a big city girl.¡±


    I raise my eyebrows. ¡°Acton counts as big?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s ten times the size of remont.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard not to be. This town is so small that everyone knows one another¡¯s zodiac signs.¡±


    He shakes his head, a smile hovering around the corners of his lips. ¡°Not yours, though. No one knows quite what to think about you.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re getting to know me,¡± I say. ¡°Slowly.¡±


    Oliver nods. ¡°And I¡¯m sure they like what they see.¡±


    I can¡¯t help the smile that spreads across my face at thepliment, and it¡¯s mirrored in the sparkle in his eyes. My stomach is a mess of nerves, of butterflies, of excitement.


    I want him to kiss me again.


    ¡°So, the fair is tonight,¡± I say, running my hand along the door frame. ¡°Apparently, the whole town is going to be there.¡±


    He frowns. ¡°So I¡¯ve heard, yes.¡±


    ¡°Your sister told me you¡¯d don¡¯t usually go to things like that.¡±


    ¡°To amusement fairs? No, there aren¡¯t many in remont.¡±


    I shoot him a small smile, and I appreciate the effort of humor, but it¡¯s not what I meant. Oliver knows it too, because he nces away and sighs.


    ¡°This town talks too much,¡± he says.


    ¡°I¡¯m with you on that one. I can¡¯t imagine having been talked about for¡­ five years?¡±


    He snorts. ¡°Try all my life.¡±


    ¡°Maybe their opinions don¡¯t matter. Maybe it¡¯s just background noise, you know,¡± I say. It¡¯s still something I¡¯m working on myself.


    His gaze grows thoughtful. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there if you want toe.¡± I smooth my hair back behind my ear, suddenly awkward. ¡°So will Sarah. Just wanted to let you know¡­¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±

 Chapter 27

    His eyes catch mine again, and I know he feels what I feel. The pull between us is as strong as it ever was. I want toe closer, to be weed into his arms again. To feel the heat of his lips against mine.


    My courage falters.


    ¡°I hope I see youter,¡± I say, and head out of his office without waiting for a reply.


    Lucy leaves, and the ranch is all mine again. Quiet, and calm, and empty. I used to prefer it that way.


    I work for another couple of hours. There are always things to do around the ce-orders to ce and invoices to pay. Working at theputer had be a refuge, a way to shut myself into my office and away from questioning looks or social interaction. It¡¯s also a fucking bore. My body is used to manualbor, to walking for hours with heavy equipment and sleeping on the hard, bare ground. A screen is a paltry recement.


    Shutting down myputer, I grab my toolbox from the cupboard and lock the door to my office. A habit, perhaps, but it¡¯s a good one. People are far too trusting.


    A sharp ache shoots down my arm and I push a hand against my tense shoulder. Austin pads beside me as I head down the hall. I pass by paintings as familiar to me as the back of my own hand. Landscapes, ced in thick wooden frames. They¡¯ve hung in this house for far longer than I¡¯ve been alive. They¡¯re from my grandfather¡¯s time, when he ran this ce with an iron fist. When the family was still big and thriving.


    I stop at a gilded mirror at the end of the hall and run a hand across my face. The man staring back at me feels like a stranger. Too many sleepless nights and long days have left their mark.


    When I returned, I had a couple of sessions of therapy. It was mandated, yes, but it was also widely encouraged in my unit. None of us wanted to be a statistic.


    The therapist said a lot of things, but one thing in particr had stuck with me. You¡¯ll feel like a ghost for a long time, Oliver, he¡¯d said. But over time, the world will return to you in full colors. Let it take time.


    Maybe it would. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t. But looking in that mirror, all I can see is a shadow of who I¡¯d been. Once upon a time, I¡¯d run through this hallway, cousins in tow, struggling to stay upright when I turned the narrow corners. I¡¯m not that boy anymore-not the same young man, either.


    And maybe it¡¯s time I stopped hiding that.


    Austin and I walk through the small lobby and out into the afternoon sun. The day is warm. They¡¯ll be happy about that, down at the fair. The image of Lucy strikes me again. Form-fitting denim shorts, long legs, and blonde curls that just beckon a man to bury his hands in them. I see her bright smile and there¡¯s an unexpected tug in my chest.Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    She¡¯d been so unbelievably cute when she came into my office earlier. Hesitant and careful, as if what was hovering between us might disappear with too strong a word. Almost like she wondered if the kiss had ever really happened at all.


    It did, and I haven¡¯t been able to stop thinking about it.


    Every single inhabitant of remont, plus a few extra, would be at the fair. It would be a never-ending parade of shaking hands, nodding to old ssmates, answering asinine questions. Making small talk.


    I haven¡¯t been to anything like that for years.


    It¡¯s not hard to imagine her down there, eating a candied apple andughing with some of the locals. Taking everyone with storm, just as thoroughly as she has up here at the ranch. Someone would make ame joke, and she¡¯d throw her head back and give that pealingugh. I know, because she¡¯s frequently graced me with it.


    Seeing her smile again might outweigh the hassle of being at an event like that, being around so many people. Besides, Sarah and my nieces would be ecstatic if I showed up.


    I push up from my seat on the porch and nod to my dog. ¡°Stay here,¡± I say rathermely. ¡°I¡¯m going into town.¡±


    Austin blinks up at me.


    Ten minutester, I¡¯ve showered and changed my worn button-down for a clean shirt. I¡¯m turning the keys to the ignition before I can change my mind.


    People will talk.


    But they¡¯re just people.


    And I¡¯ll be damned if I let that stop me from spending time with Lucy-with the one person who doesn¡¯t look at me like I¡¯m damaged goods.


    I park right next to a van with the neon-bright logo of Whittaker Instations printed on the side. It shouldn¡¯t surprise me that Gavin is here. For a moment, I think of flinging my car door open so hard it dents his. I don¡¯t.


    I tug my cap down low and walk up Main Street. The streets are lined with cars, but there¡¯s not a person in sight. Shop after shop is closed for the day.


    It¡¯s not long until I can hear it; the sound of cheery pop music sting fromrge speakers. The central square is packed to the brim with colorful stands, banners and gs. Someone must have brought a bubble machine this year, because soap bubbles are flying overhead. I can hear childrenughing.


    My heart is beating fast and I haven¡¯t even reached the fair yet.


    Old Mr. Ronson is sitting by the entrance under a parasol. There¡¯s arge stack of flyers in front of him, and he¡¯s carefully folding each and every one.


    ¡°Good day, sir.¡±


    He stops folding. ¡°Oliver Morris?¡±


    I nod. Mr. Ronson once worked up at the Ranch, when my grandfather was still at the helm, decades ago. Many of the men in this town have passed through our employ at one point or another.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you.¡±


    ¡°Likewise.¡±


    He nods towards the entrance. ¡°I believe your sister is somewhere inside. Is everything alright?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not here to pull her out,¡± I say. ¡°Everything¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°Alright, then. You have a good time now.¡±


    I thank him for the flyer and head inside. Had I really been out of the town loop for so long that people thought something was wrong when I showed up?


    The smell of popcorn is strong as I weave through the first throng of people. With each step, I¡¯m heading further and further away from the entrance. It¡¯s one of only two entry points to the fair, and the other is on the far end, by Third Street. There are eleven people around me. Four of them are children.


    I should stop counting, but I don¡¯t know how to.


    Tammie Bet waves at me from the waffle stand. There¡¯s no one there, and I see the chance for a brief respite from the crowd.


    ¡°Hello, Oliver. It¡¯s been too long.¡±


    I can¡¯t agree with her on that. ¡°Hi, Tammie.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s the ranch?¡± She shields her face from the sun and flips over a waffle. ¡°I heard that you¡¯re expanding into the spa business.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we are.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s so great to hear.¡±


    I tug at my cap. ¡°Sarah is here, I believe.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I spoke with her earlier. I¡¯m d to see you out here too, though. It¡¯s not good for you to lock yourself away up there.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± The silence turns awkward, and I rack my brain for something polite to ask about her life. It takes me a minute to remember the name of her boyfriend. ¡°How¡¯s Mark?¡±

 Chapter 28

    Tammie¡¯s smile returns. ¡°His construction business is really picking up, which is perfect because we just started remodeling the house. Redoing the kitchen a bit.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Great.¡±


    How does my sister handle all this small talk? It¡¯s like walking on hot coals, only if I was doing that, I¡¯d at least be able to stop.


    Tammie clears her throat. ¡°I know you¡¯re far too nice to bring it up, Oliver, but I hope you understand why we didn¡¯t invite you to the wedding. It wasn¡¯t anything personal, but we made the decision not to have any exes there. And I know we only dated for a short while in high school, but I¡­¡± She shakes her head. ¡°I hope there¡¯s no bad blood between us. It was never meant to offend you.¡±


    Mark and Tammie got married?


    ¡°Not a problem. Good luck with the remodel.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± She pauses, her spat half-raised. ¡°I hope you find happiness, Oliver.¡±


    What.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    I walk away as fast as I can without looking rude. Five minutes into the fair, and it¡¯s already too much. Expectations and conversations, both patronizing and hesitant. I want things to be easy.


    Things are never easy.


    There¡¯s no sign of Lucy in the crowd. No bright ponytail or wide smile, even though my eyes don¡¯t stop roaming for a second. Six more people stop me to talk as I try to make my way towards the merry-go-round.


    Frank Deger ps me on the shoulder and tells me it¡¯s good I¡¯m back out in society again. ¡°We¡¯ve missed you, Ollie.¡±


    I want to tell him that I¡¯m not seventeen anymore, that the Ollie he¡¯s imagining is gone and dead and buried and that I already know he¡¯s missed. Sarah reminds me regrly.


    I don¡¯t say that. I nod and say thank you and push on ahead.


    My nieces love the merry-go-round. It¡¯s all they ever talk about, each and every year, without fail. It¡¯s the only ce my sister can be, since I¡¯ve already checked the face painting stall. I force my clenched fists to rx as the familiar attractiones into view. She better be there.


    She is-I can see Sarah and her printed dress from the distance. She¡¯s holding her phone up, filming as Nora and Sophia ride on two giant wooden ponies. Round and round they go, little hands sped tight on the horses¡¯ wooden manes. My heartbeat slows a little bit. Seeing my family is like an anchor in the chaos.


    I¡¯m at Sarah¡¯s side in seconds. She nods hello but doesn¡¯t bother to look over at me as she films the girls.


    ¡°Did you get the corndogs? I hope you put both ketchup and mustard on mine. No skimping.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not John.¡±


    She nearly drops the phone. ¡°You came?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±Oliver¡­ wow.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t look so surprised,¡± I chide and reach out to press the screen on her phone. ¡°And you didn¡¯t hit record.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t? Shoot.¡± Sarah pretends to fiddle with her phone, but I can see the wide smile that hovers on her lips. Rare are the times when my sister is speechless.


    ¡°If you have something to say, just say it.¡±


    She shakes her head with small, focused movements, and for a moment I think her eyes look a bit shiny. ¡°No. I have nothing to say.¡±


    ¡°Sarah.¡±


    Her reply is drowned out by the excited cheers of two small girls. I watch as they mber off the ride, Nora¡¯s little legs still a bit unsteady, and race towards me. ¡°Uncle Ollie!¡±


    They collide into me with the force of a tiny but very robust tank. For being so small, they have remarkably strong grips. I reach down and swing Nora up and onto my shoulders. She squeals and buries her hands in my hair, tugging this way and that, as I reach for Sophia¡¯s hand. It¡¯s a bit sticky in mine-the evidence of cotton candy. Sarah spoils them rotten on days like this.


    ¡°Did you have fun?¡±N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    She nods so vigorously that her ponytails fly. ¡°So much fun. We¡¯ve already been on it¡­ five times.¡±


    ¡°Five?¡±


    ¡°Maybe six.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impressive,¡± I tell her. ¡°You could get dizzy.¡±


    She shakes her head with a wide smile, revealing the gap between her front teeth. ¡°I never get dizzy. Do you want to get ice cream with us? Please?¡±


    My sister clicks her tongue in disapproval. ¡°You need to eat some real food too. How about you two share a corndog first, and then Ollie can go get you some ice cream. Nora, don¡¯t tug at his hair like that.¡±


    Her youngest daughter makes a decisive sound from above my head, and I can practically see the determined look on her face as she squares off with her mother. Unsurprisingly, her mother wins-but I bet they¡¯ll be even before long.


    The tugging stops, and a small hand pats my head as if I were Austin. ¡°Pretty hair,¡± she mumbles. ¡°Pretty uncle.¡±


    Sarahughs, her eyes dancing. ¡°So pretty.¡±


    I shoot her a dark look. ¡°They get it from you.¡±


    ¡°They have some of your genes too, you know.¡±


    John returns. He¡¯s bncing four corndogs and a bottle of soda, a sweater tied around his waist. My sister¡¯s husband and I are very different men, but we respect each other. He¡¯s an ountant; calm, methodical, and Sarah¡¯splete opposite. I might have made it explicitly clear to him when he started dating Sarah just what would happen if he stepped out of line. She was furious at me, but I like to think that he appreciated it.


    I¡¯m secretly convinced that Sarah did too.


    ¡°Good to see you here,¡± he tells me.


    ¡°You too, man.¡±


    We have a seat and I swing Nora down onto myp. They eat in silence, passing a soda bottle back and forth, while I ignore the looks Sarah keeps shooting my way. I know she¡¯s curious as to why I¡¯m here, or how I¡¯m doing. It¡¯s only thanks to the kids that I get a pass from the twenty questions.


    From our corner of the fair, I have a clear view over the crowd. No one is asking us to join a ring toss or to buy a raffle ticket. The fewer interactions I have to deal with, the better. Which reminds me¡­


    ¡°Sarah, did you mention that Tammie got married?¡±


    She chews for a little bit. ¡°Well, no,¡± she says finally. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Why not? You tell me about everything else that happens in this town.¡± I pull the empty stick away from Nora. ¡°That¡¯s not for eating. It¡¯s sharp.¡±

 Chapter 29

    ¡°She was your first girlfriend, Ollie. I wasn¡¯t sure if¡­¡±


    Oh, for the love of God. ¡°Sarah, please.¡±


    ¡°Just trying to look out for you.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to.¡± My voice is low. I want her to stop trying to set me up, to reintegrate me, to coddle me.


    ¡°Okay, okay.¡± She leans forward and runs a hand over Sophia¡¯s braid. ¡°I know you wanted ice cream, sweetie, but how about a cookie instead?¡±


    Nora springs to life and I have to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from bouncing off. ¡°Cookie! Cookie!¡±


    ¡°Can we get the ones with the frosting, Mom?¡±


    ¡°Sure! Why don¡¯t you go with them, Oliver? John and I will follow.¡±


    I tug at the cor of my button-down. It would mean walking through the throngs of people again. Back past the giant speakers, the ring bass, the chaos. Avoid situations that can trigger it. That¡¯s what we¡¯d always been told with regards to PTSD. But how long would it take until I was sound again? Until I was me again?


    ¡°Where do they sell cookies?¡±


    ¡°The Rhodes have a stand. It should be right next to the bouncy castle. I saw Lucy there earlier, actually. She was roped into manning it.¡± Sarah¡¯s eyes, wide and innocent, meet mine.


    Ah.


    ¡°Better than ice cream, huh?¡± I ask dryly.


    ¡°Much better. Wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±


    I roll my eyes at her, but she¡¯s given me a destination, and with that, I might make it through. ¡°Let¡¯s go, girls.¡±


    Nora asks to sit on my shoulders again, and I can see that Sarah wants to protest. I shake my head at her silently. Nora is light, and the twinge in my shoulder is nothing but a faint ache. I¡¯ll be damned if I can¡¯t carry my own niece. Besides, the small pinprick of pain will help me focus.


    Sophia slips her hand in mine again and we head off towards the cookie stand. She skips with little bounces in her step, watching the people around us.


    ¡°Will you go on the merry-go-round with uster?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not for adults. It¡¯s for kids.¡±


    She tugs on my hand. ¡°Both Mommy and Daddy have gone on it, and they¡¯re adults.¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m on it, I can¡¯t watch you ride it.¡±


    She nods gravely. ¡°That¡¯s true. What does rec-lus-ive mean?¡±


    That¡¯s a big word for a seven-year-old. ¡°Someone who doesn¡¯t like spending a lot of time with people. Where did you hear that word?¡±


    Sophia looks behind her, before smiling up at me with glittering eyes. ¡°Mommy said that you¡¯re rec-lus-ive, but I see you spending time with people all the time!¡±


    Nora grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs, giving an excited squeal. ¡°Cookies!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I tell Sophia. ¡°I¡¯m not reclusive, but I¡¯m not as talkative as Mommy. And yes¡­ cookies.¡±


    The Rhodes have set up arge table with a parasol above it. Small, colorful gs decorate the edge. The table is heavy with trays of baked goods. There are thick slices of carrot and coconut cake arranged in a beautiful semi-circle. The biggest trays, of course, are filled with their signature chocte chip cookies. Nora is bouncing on my shoulders with excitement, and Sophia is staring wide-eyed at the selection.


    But I only have eyes for the person standing behind the table.


    Lucy¡¯s smile is wide as she hands a toffee cookie to a small boy, and I¡¯m instantly back in the glen, when that smile was turned on me and me alone. She¡¯s changed into a flowery sundress that hits halfway down her soft thighs, with a neckline that shows off smooth shoulders and freckled skin. It would be so easy to tug up it up or to tug down. To tug her close and see that smile up close.


    I¡¯ve never wanted like this before. I feel like I might explode from it.Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Sophia wails, pulling me forward.


    Lucy¡¯s smile disappears as she spots us heading her way-her face temporarily a mask of shock. But then it¡¯s back, and the smile is warmer than before.


    ¡°Hello!¡± Sophia deres. ¡°We would like to buy some cookies, please.¡±


    Lucy drags her gaze from mine to my oldest niece. ¡°Of course! Do you know what kind you want?¡±


    I lift Nora down so she can stand next to her sister, their eyes glued to the vast assortment of cookies. She reaches out with a trembling hand, but I tug it back.


    ¡°Thedy will package them for you. No touching until you¡¯ve decided which one you want.¡±


    Lucy looks from them to me with warm eyes. Her hair is undone around her face, soft tendrils of hair curling over her forehead and down her neck. I want to push it back and kiss her hello.


    ¡°You came,¡± she murmurs.


    ¡°I did.¡±


    Her smile feels intimate. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would.¡±


    ¡°Neither did I.¡±


    Nora leans in close to her older sister. ¡°Which one are you having?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet,¡± Sophia says.


    Lucy grins at me. ¡°And who are these littledies you¡¯re chaperoning today?¡±


    ¡°My name is Nora!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Sophia. It¡¯s nice to meet you.¡±


    Lucy smiles. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you too. Is this your uncle?¡±


    Sophia nods gravely and tugs at my hand. ¡°Introduce yourself,¡± she orders me.


    I can see theughter dancing in Lucy¡¯s eyes and have to stave off my own grin. ¡°We actually know each other, bud. Lucy works up at the Ranch.¡±


    ¡°She does?¡±

 Chapter 30

    Lucy nods. ¡°Yes, I do. I work with both your uncle and your mom, actually, when I¡¯m not selling cookies.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve decided!¡± Nora deres, in the same way she deres everything. She points at a star-shaped sugar cookie with pink sprinkles.


    ¡°Good choice.¡± Lucy wraps it up a napkin. ¡°How about you, Sophia? What do you feel like?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have the double-chocte chip, please.¡±


    Lucy hands the girls their cookies and shoots me a teasing nce. ¡°How about your uncle? Do you think he wants anything?¡±


    Nora is chomping away at her cookie, sprinkles flying everywhere, but she looks up at the question. ¡°He wants a cookie!¡±


    I ruffle her hair. ¡°I¡¯m good, thank you. How much for the two?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, this is on the house.¡±


    ¡°Lucy.¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    ¡°No, I insist. I¡¯m not going to charge you.¡± Her eyes flicker from my nieces to me. ¡°And there¡¯s no point in hitting me with your death stare, Oliver. It doesn¡¯t work on me.¡±


    I raise an eyebrow at her, but she just breaks intoughter. ¡°I mean it!¡±


    ¡°Look! There¡¯s a bouncy castle!¡± Nora tugs at my hand, but I hold her still.


    ¡°Yes, there is.¡±


    Sophia looks up at me with a picture-perfect replica of her mom¡¯s pleading eyes. ¡°Can we go? Please?¡±


    ¡°Wait a moment. When does your shift end, Luce?¡±


    ¡°I should be able to-¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s goooooo.¡± Nora grabs my hand with both of hers and tugs with all of her strength. It doesn¡¯t do much.


    Lucyughs. The sound is familiar to me now, but it still makes my chest tighten. ¡°Go on,¡± she tells me. ¡°Go have fun.¡±


    I frown. ¡°When you finish, let me-¡±


    ¡°There you are! How were the cookies?¡± Sarah scoops Nora up, John at her heels. ¡°Sorry we took a while.¡±


    John and Lucy shake hands and say their hello¡¯s. She is as courteous and polite as ever, but I can¡¯t help but notice that the teasing glint in her eye isn¡¯t there. It seems to be reserved for me.


    John carries an upside-down Nora away towards the bouncy castle, Sophia skipping along beside them, a half-eaten cookie in her hand.


    ¡°Sorry about them,¡± Sarah says. ¡°They¡¯re great girls, but this fair is¡­ well. It¡¯s a lot.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like cocaine for kids,¡± I say dryly. ¡°Are you going to take them face paintingter?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s on the list. Do you hear that? We have an actual list. Do they really have to expand the fair every year? Soon we¡¯ll need a two-day pass.¡± Sarah pretends to sp her hand over her mouth. ¡°Whoops. Don¡¯t tell anyone I said that.¡±


    Lucy grins. ¡°sphemy.¡±


    ¡°Have you sold a lot of cookies?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I¡¯ve only been here for a bit. My aunt ising back in a few minutes to switch, and then I¡¯ll walk around. I haven¡¯t really seen much of the fair yet.¡±


    ¡°Well, Oliver just arrived, actually. I¡¯m sure he can show you around.¡±


    ¡°I can,¡± I say. My sister is the sweetest, but I¡¯ll be damned if I¡¯ll let her speak for me with women. ¡°Go be with your family, Sarah.¡±


    She dances away with a small wave, her eyes sparkling, and I have to remind myself that she means well.


    Lucy shrugs. ¡°She¡¯s not exactly subtle, is she?¡±


    ¡°My sister doesn¡¯t have a subtle bone in her body.¡±


    Her hand fiddles with the hem of her dress. ¡°Did you decide that fairs were more of your thing?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I felt the sudden urge to y ring toss.¡±


    Her smile turns teasing, and heat blooms in my lower belly. ¡°You do seem like the type to enjoy cotton candy.¡±


    ¡°Immensely.¡±


    ¡°Have you walked around yet? remont Elementary has an art exhibition, and it¡¯s pretty spectacr.¡±


    ¡°Spectacrly unimpressive?¡±


    Lucy shakes her head at me. ¡°I¡¯m trying to get to know your town, you know.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re doing a splendid job.¡±


    Her eyes catch something behind me. ¡°ire is back.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re free. Let me buy you something.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still not letting you pay me for those cookies.¡± She tugs off her apron and gives her aunt a wide smile. ¡°How did it go?¡±


    ¡°I managed, though it took me a while. I entered our names into the raffle on the way back, by the way. Fingers crossed!¡± ire pulls Lucy into a hug. ¡°Thank you for handling the table for a while. I see you¡¯ve got a customer?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Oliver stopped by to say hello.¡±


    ¡°And to show you around,¡± I interject. ¡°If you can spare her, Mrs. Rhodes?¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course I can.¡±


    Lucy grabs her bag from under the table and slings it across her body, the strap cutting right between her cleavage. I force my eyes back to ire.


    ¡°Have a good evening.¡±

 Chapter 31

    ¡°You too, Oliver. It¡¯s good to see you.¡±


    Yes, yes, I don¡¯te here often-I know.


    Lucy falls into step next to me and shoots me a wide grin. ¡°Where to? You¡¯re the expert.¡±


    ¡°Have you seen the dunking booth?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that exins it!¡±


    ¡°Exins what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard loud sshes all day, but I didn¡¯t have a clue where it wasing from-or from what!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a pretty big deal here. Every year someone volunteers, and it¡¯s usually people quite high up in the town.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever volunteered?¡±


    I shoot her a sideways nce. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You¡¯re pretty high up in this town, you know.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t, no. Maybe I should someday.¡± If I ever gathered the courage. My father would never have considered it, not in a million years, but times change.


    ¡°I¡¯d be the first in line.¡±


    ¡°Oh, really?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She shoots me a teasing smile. ¡°And I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be the only one.¡±


    I don¡¯t know what to say to that, so I settle on something safe. ¡°This year, it¡¯s the principal of remont High. He¡¯s worked there since¡­ well, as long as I can remember. Half the people here used to be his pupils.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go see it.¡±


    We weave through the crowd. People are everywhere, and I can see the looks that are thrown my way. My cap hasn¡¯t fooled anyone.


    Music res from a stereo and my palms grow sweaty from the bass. The beat is too heavy. A childughs to my right, the shrillness bringing back shes of things I¡¯d rather forget. I flinch as a pink balloon passes by overhead.


    Shit. I have to get a grip.


    Lucy turns and looks at me. I can see her lips move, but I can¡¯t hear her.


    I finally read her lips. ¡°Oliver?¡±


    ¡°Sorry?¡±¡±I said that your nieces are lovely.¡±


    Control filters back in. The world around me slows down a bit, bing manageable once again. I can focus on her words. ¡°They¡¯re little rascals,¡± I say finally.


    ¡°Cute ones.¡±


    ¡°Yes. They¡¯re miniature copies of Sarah. Well, at least Nora is.¡±


    ¡°And maybe of you?¡± Her smile is teasing and I force my breath to slow, to focus on her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I buy this respectable ranch owner act.¡±


    The teasing glint in her eyes helps me focus. For a moment, I forget that we¡¯re at a fair, I forget these people and all the sounds.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m not respectable at all.¡±


    A faint blush creeps up her cheeks, but she doesn¡¯t break eye contact with me. Maybe she feels the same burning, heady desire that regrly courses through my body.


    ¡°Stop looking at me like that,¡± I say.


    She leans in closer. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because if you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll kiss you again, and this time everyone will see.¡±


    Her eyes go liquid. ¡°Oliver, I-¡±


    The crowd erupts in a massive cheer behind us. It¡¯s not followed by a ssh-someone must have missed by a narrow margin.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± she breathes. ¡°This was, umm, what you wanted to show me?¡±


    Right now, all I want is to show her the inside of my bedroom. But I force myself to break away from her gaze and look at the familiar dunking booth.


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±Have you ever tried to dunk someone here?¡±


    ¡°I have. I¡¯ve seeded, too.¡± In my younger days, this had been the go-to spot. People had fallen silent as the sports teams arrived-everyone knew exactly what would happen.


    Lucy grabs my hand and pulls me forward so we can see. Slender fingers curl around mine, and the contact sends heat up my arm. It feels right. I follow her through the crowd, anchored by her touch.


    She lets me go as soon as we get there. ¡°Is that the principal?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I wonder who roped him into doing this.¡±


    Principal Woodworth is sitting on the dunking booth. His hair is considerably greyer than it was when I was in high school, but he¡¯s not wearing the frown I¡¯m used to-no, he¡¯s smiling.


    We watch as several people try to dunk, only to miss. His clothes are wet, though, so he¡¯s clearly been in the water already.C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    ¡°Do you want to throw?¡±


    I look down at her, at the sparkle in her eyes. ¡°I think you want me to.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± she says. ¡°Maybe I want my own throw, too.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±


    I fish out a few coins and pay for us. It¡¯s been ages since I¡¯ve done anything like this-since I¡¯ve even held a ball. I weigh it in my hands. It used to be second nature.


    Lucy throws me a smile. ¡°Watch me.¡±

 Chapter 32

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m watching.¡±


    She grips her ball tightly and bends her knees. Good form, actually. The crowd watches with bated breath as she throws and just narrowly misses.


    ¡°Darn.¡±


    ¡°Close, though.¡±


    Professor Woodworth is smiling down at us. ¡°Too close forfort!¡±


    I roll the ball between my palms. The bullseye is small, but it¡¯s doable. All I need is focus.


    People form a semi-circle around us, watching as I take my ce at the marker. I ignore their gazes and focus on the ball in my hand. The bullseye and me-that¡¯s all that matters. I take a deep breath and throw.


    I score.


    Woodworth¡¯s chair gives out. He disappears beneath the surface with a huge ssh. Around me, the crowd erupts in cheers and apuse.


    Lucy bounces up to me with a smile. Her mouth moves again, but I can¡¯t hear her. Every rational thought is drowned out by the thunder around us. The crowd is covering every possible exit route. They¡¯re everywhere.


    My vision turns hazy.


    I can¡¯t breathe.


    Someone grabs a hold of my hand and I¡¯m pulled away.


    Oliver is a statue beside me.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± I murmur, but there¡¯s no response. His face is stone. I look around at the people surrounding us, and something clicks.


    I slip my hand into his. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go.¡±


    He¡¯s not responsive, so I give a sharp tug and he stumbles to life. I make a beeline through the crowd, Oliver in tow.


    ¡°Coming through! Pardon us!¡±


    We make it out of the fair. I give the nice old man sitting outside a wave and pull Oliver down along Main Street. His strides are long beside mine, and we make it halfway down the street before his fingers curl around mine.


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    He nods and releases my hand. He shoves them into his pockets and turns back towards the fair. There¡¯s no one behind us.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think too many people noticed,¡± I say softly. ¡°Do you want to sit down, or walk for a while?¡±


    Wide shoulders lift once as he sighs. ¡°Let¡¯s walk.¡±


    Main Street is quiet. The sun is starting to set, and vivid colors of red and orange are reflected in the shop windows. The silence is heavy between us-I can practically feel how ufortable he is.


    I don¡¯t ever want him to be ufortable with me.


    ¡°We can talk about it,¡± I say. ¡°Or we can talk about something else. Like how great your throwing arm is. You¡¯re a natural.¡±


    ¡°We can talk about it.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I say, ncing over at him. ¡°Does it happen often?¡±


    ¡°No. Mostly at ces like that, with a lot of noise or big crowds. It used to happen more often.¡±


    ¡°PTSD?


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    His sigh is frustrated. ¡°Don¡¯t be. I don¡¯t want¡­ I¡¯m lucky. I¡¯m notining.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were. Oliver, I-¡±


    He runs a hand over his face. ¡°I didn¡¯t want you to see me like that.¡±


    The words cut me. That this beautiful, stoic, caring man should be afraid to show his emotions. And that the person he was afraid of showing them to was me, of all people.


    ¡°No.¡± I grab his hand again, and this time, his fingers grasp mine back in a firm hold. ¡°I¡¯m not someone you need to hide from.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±I smile at him. ¡°It¡¯s not a personal failing to have PTSD, you know.¡±


    Oliver is quiet for a few moments. ¡°You noticed my reaction very quickly.¡±


    ¡°Well, only because I watch you so much.¡±


    He turns to me, warmth on his usually neutral features. ¡°You do?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I look away, embarrassed at my own stupid confession. ¡°Forget I said that.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he says. ¡°I watch you all the time.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±God, Lucy, if you only knew. Hiring you made good sense, business wise. It would satisfy my curiosity¡­ I don¡¯t know. Instead, it¡¯s turned me into this.¡± He runs a hand through his hair, the one not holding mine. ¡°I look for you every day, waiting for the moment when you ride your death trap up to the ranch. I know it¡¯s wrong. You saidst night that you wanted us to have a professional rtionship. But what I want with you, Lucy, is decidedly unprofessional.¡±


    My mouth goes dry at the confession, and I can¡¯t look away from the intense blue of his eyes. I can feel my nipples tighten against the shiny fabric of my bra.


    ¡°Tell me. What do you want with me?¡±


    His gaze goes dark with desire. ¡°I want to make you mine. I want to hear you moan my name as I make youe again, and again, and again.¡±


    Oh my god.


    Heat blooms in my stomach and between my legs. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s because of what he just experienced, but he¡¯s a more dominant version of himself tonight. It¡¯s too much, the need in his eyes, and still¡­ I want to get closer.


    Rational Lucy is long gone.Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.

 Chapter 33

    ¡°Would you take me hard?¡±


    Oliver gives a single nod. ¡°Yes. I¡¯d make sure you were good and wet before I did, though. And then I¡¯d make you forget other men even exist.¡±


    Holy shit. My skin feels electrified, my breathing too quick.


    ¡°Come.¡±


    I pull him along Main Street. There¡¯s only one destination in mind, one ce we need to go. I¡¯ve already made my decision.


    Maybe it was never really a decision at all-inevitable, from the very first day we met, when he walked into the bakery and I saw those unflinching eyes for the first time. I don¡¯t know, but I do know that I¡¯ve never wanted anything in life more than I want him.


    ¡°The bakery?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±His eyes fill with heat. I want what he told me about, the iming¡­ being taken hard. It¡¯s a feeling I¡¯ve never had before, this desire to be entirely owned.


    By the Rhode is dark, just like all the other shops. I have to drop his hand to take out my keys, and Oliver stops only inches behind me. I can feel the strength of his chest against my shoulders.


    A rough hand traces my neck lightly as I struggle to unlock the door. It finally swings open and I turn to face him. He¡¯s so close I can feel the warmth of his breath.


    ¡°Come inside.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I¡¯ve never been surer of anything in my life as I lead him through the bakery. I¡¯m not usually this confident, take-what-she-wants kind of woman. I¡¯m won¡¯t-have-sex-until-the-third-date Lucy.


    I¡¯m let¡¯s-have-the-lights-off-Lucy.


    But maybe, just maybe, I want to be someone else with Oliver.


    ¡°Mmm,¡± he murmurs. ¡°This ce smells as good at night as it does in the morning.¡±


    ¡°It does?¡±


    I stop on the first step up to my studio. We¡¯re nearly the same height like this. His eyes are dark with desire, watching me silently.


    I close the distance between us and touch my lips to his. He kisses me back softly, almost reverently, before his tongue snakes out and traces my lower lip. His hands grip my waist and hunger races through my body.


    ¡°I¡¯m not having professional thoughts, either,¡± I tell him. ¡°I haven¡¯t for a good long while.¡±


    His smile is carnal. ¡°I can think of a way to fix that.¡±


    Desire and excitement make it hard to breathe, to think. I pull him up the stairs and into my small studio.


    When I¡¯m there alone, the small space is cozy. With the both of us, it¡¯s cramped. I¡¯ve gotten so used to his size that it isn¡¯t until now that I realize just how tall and strong Oliver is. My ce feels far too small to contain him.


    His takes in the open suitcase shoved in the corner. The tossed pile of books on a chair. The queen-sized mattress that my aunt managed to fit into the room.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit messy,¡± I say, but it clearly doesn¡¯t matter. His gaze has already returned to me, and I can tell that myck of tidying is thest thing on his mind.


    He sits down onto the two-seater sofa and raises a single eyebrow.


    ¡°Come here.¡±


    I take slow, deliberate steps towards him. His arms are open and I sink down across hisp, straddling him. Strong hands grasp my thighs.


    ¡°That¡¯s better.¡± He leans forward and our mouths touch again.


    This time it¡¯s slow-it¡¯s methodical. It¡¯s him taking his time, making sure I¡¯m ready for whateveres next. I can feel the promise in every swipe of his tongue and strong press of his lips. You¡¯re mine, Oliver is saying. I¡¯ll have you tonight.


    Yes, I reply with my touch. Please.


    Want and need burns through my stomach, heat pooling below. His body is like a rock beneath me. He¡¯s big up close, too-the shoulders hard and wide under my touch. I run my hand down his arm and it¡¯s like granite.


    Oliver tugs my head back, giving his lips ess to my throat and my corbones. A gentle hand tugs down the straps to my dress. It falls to my waist and he groans low against my bare skin. I can¡¯t believe this is happening. I can¡¯t believe he¡¯s here, in my apartment. I can¡¯t believe that he¡¯s kissing his way towards the edge of my bra, my hand buried in his silky hair.


    ¡°So beautiful,¡± he murmurs. He tugs down the cup of my bra and pops my nipple into his mouth, and then I¡¯m not thinking at all anymore. Rough hands roam across my body, tugging at my dress until it¡¯s bunched around my waist. I can feel the wetness below, and he hasn¡¯t even touched me yet.


    I tug at the hem of his shirt. We break apart long enough for him to pull it off before his lips return to mine. Oliver¡¯s chest is hard and tanned from hours spent working outdoors. I skim the outline of a faint scar, and goosebumps trail my fingertips.


    His body is a map of masculinity. I¡¯ve never drawn in my life, but I want to sketch him. Immortalize this moment somehow.


    He pulls me closer. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    His hands trail down my back and cups my ass. I¡¯m pulled closer, my nipples rubbing against his chest as he kisses me deeply. I can feel his hardness beneath me, even through his jeans.


    I roll my hips. The zipper of his jeans is perfectly ced, giving me the friction I need, and there¡¯s no stopping now. I¡¯m too far gone.


    He pushes the hem of my dress up to watch as my panties bunch and rub against his jeans.


    ¡°Fucking hell, Lucy,¡± he growls.


    It¡¯s all he says, but I can feel how much he wants me. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. I want what he told me about before, out there on the sidewalk. I want to drive him off the cliff of his carefully maintained control.Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    My hands trail down his chest and taut stomach, finding the zipper of his jeans. ¡°Please, Oliver. Please.¡±


    ¡°One second.¡± He reaches for something in his back pocket at the same time I manage to get his belt buckle undone. My hand slides inside his boxers.


    He hisses as I make contact. Shit, but he¡¯s big. Bigger than I was expecting. There will be some¡­ amodating to do.


    Oliver notices my pause. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, baby. We¡¯ll go as slow as you want. Or not at all.¡±


    I catch his lips between mine again. I don¡¯t want slow. I want all of him, his hardness and blunt edges, his scars, and his blue eyes. The mixture of dominant roughness and his surprising tenderness.


    ¡°No,¡± I say. ¡°I want you tonight.¡±


    Oliver¡¯s hands close around my waist. ¡°You want what I told about earlier?¡±

 Chapter 34

    I nod. The words feel too dirty, too harsh to say, but he just lifts an eyebrow. ¡°Do you want me to fuck you hard?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±God yes.


    Something snaps in him. He grips my hips and lifts me off of him, cing me between his legs. Strong hands unzip my dress and it falls, discarded, to my feet. ¡°Take your bra off.¡±


    I reach back and undo the sp. I¡¯m left standing there in front of him in only my underwear. His gaze is devouring me, inch by inch, searing my skin. He hooks a finger around thece trim of my panties.


    ¡°I¡¯ve wanted you since I first saw you.¡±Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    ¡°So have me.¡±


    He pulls my panties down and bares me to his gaze. Doubt flickers through my mind for a moment as he watches in silence-I shouldn¡¯t have turned on the lights-but then he groans and the sound sends shivers across my skin.


    ¡°Fuck, Luce¡­ you¡¯re so sweet.¡±


    Who would have known? Who would have known that this usually taciturn man could make me throb with need, using only his words? That his hands sliding up my inner thighs made me want to weep, or that his hot breath against my pussy felt like heaven?


    Oliver tugs me forward and then he kisses me, there. Fingers part me and his tongue leaves fire in its wake, making my nipples harden in response.


    His tongue finds my clit, right there, oh yes, and I have to put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. There is nothing in the world but this.


    I can¡¯t think, can¡¯t see. All my senses are focused on the strong expanse of his back and his tousled blonde hair and the heat of his mouth on me.


    He wraps an arm around the back of my legs, the other finding my hips, as he continues to use his tongue. The message is clear.


    Fall. I¡¯ll catch you.


    So I do. I let myself fall apart under his tongue like I never have before. Pleasure builds and crests until I¡¯m nothing but an instrument, one he¡¯s ying to perfection.


    ¡°Oliver¡­¡± I slide my hand into his thick hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth. He gently slides a finger inside of me, and it¡¯s too much. I need him. I need this.


    ¡°Oh my god. I can¡¯t-please. Don¡¯t stop.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t.


    He drives me into oblivion, until I¡¯ming hard and so strong that I would have toppled over if it wasn¡¯t for his strength. I¡¯m shaking as my muscles clench around his finger.


    Oliver gives me a final lick and leans back, his look one of pure satisfaction. I watch him through my afterglow, thinking that I would do absolutely anything he asked of me right now.


    The feeling is overwhelming.


    ¡°Whoa,¡± I tell him. ¡°That was¡­ wow.¡±


    He stands and hoists me up as if I weighed nothing. ¡°Your pussy is perfect,¡± he murmurs in my ear, carrying me to the bed. ¡°It¡¯s mine now.¡±


    Well, I can¡¯t argue with that. With the way he touched me, I can¡¯t imagine it belonging to anyone else. He sets me down on the bed, but I rise up on my elbows immediately.


    ¡°Off,¡± I tell him, motioning to his jeans with my hand. ¡°We need those off.¡±


    Oliver grins at my impatience and it nearly kills me. He rarely smiles, but when he does, it takes my breath away. I want to make him smile like that over and over again.


    He finishes what I began earlier, unbuckling his belt with deft hands and sliding his jeans off. When he tugs his boxers down, my throat goes dry.


    I had felt it, sure, but seeing it¡­ He¡¯s big. He¡¯s also perfect. I¡¯ve never felt like this before-this intense desire to be imed, to be his, to have all of that inside me. I want to worship at his feet and I want to make him worship at mine.


    Oliver pulls out a condom and rolls it on with ease. His body is taut, golden from the sun, chiseled in the rough way that only men who use their body for work are. I doubt I¡¯ve ever seen a man more masculine.


    ¡°Scoot back,¡± he murmurs, and I oblige. He climbs onto the bed and kneels between my legs. Strong hands find my knees and spreads me open, his eyes locked on mine. I see the question in them, clear even through the haze of lust. This isn¡¯t going to be gentle, and it¡¯s going to be fast, and it¡¯s going to change things.


    Do I want that?


    Yes. I want him more than I¡¯ve ever wanted anything in my life. I need to feel him inside of me.


    ¡°Oliver,¡± I breathe.


    He pushes into me with a tortuously slow movement, stretching me, and it¡¯s too much. His low groan echoes my own.


    He pauses, buried inside me, and bends down to kiss me. The feeling is nearly unbearable. I¡¯m so incredibly full, but he doesn¡¯t move, doesn¡¯t give us both the friction we need. He runs a hand up my thigh and flicks a thumb against my clit.


    My hands fist the sheets. ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°I think I like it when you beg,¡± he murmurs against my lips. Still, he doesn¡¯t move. The ache inside me is shifting into a dull, steady throbbing. I need him to move. I need him.


    I wrap my legs around his waist, running a hand down his back. ¡°Please, Oliver.¡±


    His lips travel to my ear, the faint scruff of his beard against my skin. ¡°Please what?¡±


    The bastard, he¡¯s forcing me to say it-he already knows I want him. My hand traces something ridged along his shoulder de.


    I press closer. ¡°Fuck me,¡± I murmur. ¡°Please.¡±


    He does.


    Oh, he does.


    Oliver moves with a graceful power that takes my breath away. He rolls his hips and eases out slowly, only to thrust back entirely in one swift stroke. The bed beneath us moves with every movement. All I can do is hold on to him, grasp him as he ims me-just like he said he would.


    All concept of time and space has left me. There¡¯s only this, his body moving inside of me, his warm skin against mine. The wide nes of his chest and the tickle of his happy trail against my stomach.


    ¡°Come for me,¡± Oliver demands. He has my hands grasped above my head, his hips rolling so that he hits my clit with every thrust. ¡°I want to feel you clench around me.¡±


    Oh my God.


    Can I?


    I¡¯m not sure I can.


    But his steady movements are too much for any woman to bear. Under hismand, the dark gaze and the magnificence of his body, I break apart once again. My lips form his name over and over again, asking him toe too.

 Chapter 35

    He drills into me with unyielding power until I can feel his body harden and grow tense under my hands. He thrusts into me one final, hard time, painful pleasure evident in every line of his body.


    I wrap my arms around him as he gives a few faint thrusts. Our bodies are sticky with sweat. His hair is soft through my fingers, his breath hot against my cheek. He¡¯s so big, I should feel crushed. It feels impossible that he could fit in my bed, on top of me-in me-and yet I want him to stay here forever.


    Our breathing is the only sound in the now quiet room. If it wasn¡¯t for Oliver¡¯s weight, I feel like I might float away, disappear on a cloud of bliss and lightness.


    He lifts himself up. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to crush you.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    Oliver disappears into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and I turn over, gripping my pillow. He really has the most glorious of bodies. Honed and rough around the edges, his tall and powerful muscles made to be admired.


    From the back, I see the raised scarring on his shoulder. I¡¯d felt it earlier, through my haze of lust, unable to realize what I was touching.


    He stretches out on the bed next to me, shoving his hands under a pillow and turning to face me.


    ¡°Hi,¡± I murmur.


    ¡°Hello.¡±


    I reach out and push back a sweaty tendril of hair from his brow. ¡°That was amazing.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±I roll my eyes, but I can¡¯t stop the smile on my face. This happy, teasing Oliver is my favorite.


    ¡°It takes two to tango, you know.¡±


    He reaches out and wraps an arm around my waist. ¡°It was amazing.¡±


    I trace down his neck, along his shoulder-de. I stop just before the scar. Up close, it¡¯s terrible. I can only imagine what must have caused it.


    Oliver¡¯s smile disappears.


    ¡°Does this still hurt sometimes?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    I cover the scar gently. I wish there was some way I could take away the pain that he must have experienced, the hurt. I wish he would let me in. I¡¯m not sure what he sees in my eyes, but his voice is tight when he speaks.


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel sorry for me.¡±


    My hand returns to his hair. ¡°I don¡¯t.


    He pulls me closer so that our heads rest on the same pillow. His face is devoid of the usual harsh lines, but his eyes are serious.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you came to remont, or what you¡¯re running from. But you¡¯ll always have a job at the ranch.¡±


    I kiss him softly, my hand on the side of his face, telling him more with my touch than I can with my words. His lips are hesitant against mine for a moment before he kisses me back gently.


    ¡°Sleep,¡± he murmurs. ¡°You¡¯re safe.¡±


    Tiredness hits me like a wave and I tuck myself closer against his chest. I fall asleep to the sound of his deep breathing, the feel of his skin against mine, and the faint smell of baked bread.


    I slip in and out of sleep during the night. The smell of her skin and soft body against mine wants to drag me under, but the usual restlessness fights back. I get up in the early hours. Her aunt and uncle will get here early to begin baking the new days bread, and I shouldn¡¯t be here when they arrive.


    Lucy¡¯s twined in the sheets and a smooth shoulder peeks out, as does nearly her entire right leg. She¡¯s sleeping soundly. Her bright hair spreads around her on the pillow like a halo. It still feels unbelievable that she wanted me, that she invited me in. That she asked me to stay.


    I want her again even as I pull on my jeans and buckle my belt. The prospect of pulling her warm body close is one that stronger men than me would have difficulty resisting.


    One day I¡¯ll kiss her awake and see what she looks like when she first opens her eyes. Maybe she¡¯ll give me a sleepy smile and look at me that way again, the way she hadst night, right before she kissed me goodnight.


    I had intended to let her sleep, but the longer I look at her, the more I waver. Slipping out without saying goodbye just isn¡¯t an option.


    I head back to the bed on quiet feet when her phone lights up. It¡¯s on the floor. It must have slid out of her bagst night, and I bend to pick it up. It¡¯ll do better on the nightstand.


    A text she¡¯s received shes on the screen. My eyes skim it automatically. It¡¯s from someone named Kyle.


    Hi sweetheart. I¡¯ve thought a lot about what you said. Call me tonight so we can straighten things out. I love you


    Everything inside me goes cold.


    What the fuck?


    My eyes flicker between the different phrases. About what you said shifts to straighten things out.


    Sweetheart.


    I love you.


    There¡¯s familiarity there, and the implication of both a past and a present. She has a boyfriend.


    Maybe they¡¯re on a break, or whatever technicality people use these days, but the fact remains-she¡¯s not really avable.


    You¡¯re such an idiot, Oliver.


    Carefully, I ce the phone back on the floor next to her bag.


    remont is quiet and dark as I walk back up Main Street. No one saw me leave the bakery, but I still pull my cap down to cover my hair.


    Fuck. It¡¯s all can I think, the one word bouncing around inside my head. I¡¯d fucked up royally. What had I been thinking? Why did I have to confess-in the middle of town on a busy evening, no less-how much I wanted her?


    It had been her eyes, her soft smile, the reassurance of her touch. The fact that I felt like she genuinely wanted me as much as I wanted her. That she saw me.


    Ugh.


    She was stunning and funny, gorgeous and kind. She had her pick of men. Had I been so foolish to think she¡¯d left Das single and unattached? That I coulde in and y the hero? Somehow, I¡¯ve been stupid enough to develop actual feelings for Lucy. But what¡¯s worse is that I¡¯d somehow been thinking that she might do the same for me.


    A thought strikes me, and it makes me feel sick. I¡¯d told her that I didn¡¯t want her to pity me, but she hadn¡¯t responded. Not verbally, at least. But she¡¯d grabbed my hand and led the way to her studio right after I¡¯d nearly had a panic attack.


    She¡¯d talked me through it.

 Chapter 36

    Had it been a pity fuck? I already knew she had a desire to heal and take care of people, to make them feel better. It was a noble impulse-I had admired her for it, damn it. Had I been one of her projects? Make the lonely, screwed up ranch owner feel better for a little while before she would head back to the city and to her boyfriend.


    Kyle. What kind of name was that, anyway? It was the name of someone who ate paste in elementary school.


    I walk past a half-inted bouncy castle, stepping on discarded flyers. Everyone has long since left the fair. My truck is the only one left in the dark parking lot.


    The engine makes a satisfying roar as I speed along the country road back up the ranch. Whatever satisfaction I¡¯d felt an hour ago is long gone. There¡¯s a reason I don¡¯t date. It¡¯s not for me, and if anything, Lucy Rhodes has helped me remember that.


    Sarah¡¯s voice cuts like ss.


    ¡°I think it was bigger this year.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you agree? There were at least three or four stands I¡¯d never seen before, and the flower vendors came all the way from Acton. I bought this huge hydrangea before we left-you should have seen John¡¯s face!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°But he can think whatever he wants. You can never have too many flowers.¡±


    I take a sip of my coffee and say nothing. I seldom need to, with my sister.


    ¡°Nora and Sophia were so happy you came. They talked about you the whole car ride home.¡±


    ¡°You should bring them to the staff barbecue,¡± I say. ¡°They love it up here.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, of course I will.¡± She puts a freshly cut flower into one of thirty little identical vases-small enough to only fit one flower. They¡¯re wildly impractical, but even I have to admit that the dining room looks better with one on each table.


    Her voice turns innocent. ¡°Did you show Lucy around the fair?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±Did she like it?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I shove my coffee cup away.


    ¡°Descriptions, brother, please.¡± Sarah rolls her eyes, looking for a moment exactly like she did at age twelve. ¡°I have a good imagination, but I do need some details.¡±


    ¡°We stopped at the dunking booth.¡±


    ¡°Where you dunked Woodworth.¡± Her grin turns savage. ¡°I heard about that.¡±Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    No doubt added to my roster. ¡°I¡¯m sure you did. That one¡¯s crooked.¡±


    She rights one of the small pink flowers with a tsk. ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject, Ollie.¡±


    ¡°From dunking?¡±


    ¡°So there¡¯s nothing between you and Lucy, then? I thought I saw chemistry between you too.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s an employee, Sarah,¡± I say. My hypocrisy only adds to my self-loathing.


    She puts her hands on her hips. ¡°What kind of business do you think you¡¯re running here, exactly? Please tell me where our HR department sits. No? We don¡¯t have one. She¡¯s a massage consultant, she¡¯s the niece of our bread suppliers, and she¡¯s a lovely person. If you think you can¡¯t date your ¡¯employees,¡¯ you¡¯re either delusional or skirting the real issue.¡±


    Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    ¡°Drop it, Sarah.¡±


    ¡°And that clearly didn¡¯t stop you from fooling around with the receptionist before ourst, Felicia.¡±


    Yes, which hadsted for exactly two weeks before the entire situation became untenable. But I couldn¡¯t tell my sister that.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea for Lucy and me to get involved.¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine.¡± Sarah shakes her head and opens another bouquet of pink, long-stemmed flowers. ¡°I¡¯ll drop it. I saw that you booked a massive wedding for August.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Nearly a hundred-and-fifty people, and with about fifty overnight guests. We¡¯ll be fully-booked.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to get out-of-town staff again.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Tim¡¯s brother might want toe in.¡±


    ¡°Did you tell them about the spa section? Lucy can do massage treatments on the bride and her bridesmaids on the night before the wedding. It¡¯ll be the perfect set-up. Oh! I could get those silk gowns for them to lounge in, with the print on the back? You know, where it says Bride and Bridesmaid. Oh, and champagne. We have to have champagne for them. Lucy will love it, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    I head to the sink to wash my cup. ¡°If she stays that long.¡±


    ¡°What? Why wouldn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°Her life is in Das, Sarah.¡±


    ¡°Did she tell you that? I figured she needed a fresh start.¡±


    ¡°Maybe she just wanted a break.¡±


    Sarah shrugs and grabs a handful of the finished vases. ¡°Well, we¡¯ll just have to see, I guess. My money is on her being here for the wedding.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re willing to bet?¡± I open the door for her to the dining room. Lucy Rhodes must have gone to her head, just as surely as she had to mine.


    ¡°Yes. Don¡¯t look so displeased, Oliver. You can¡¯t me me for wanting to see you happy.¡±


    I let the door fall shut behind her and head back to my office. The world had gone insane. I needed to stay far away from Lucy. She¡¯d been just as sweet as I¡¯d imagined, until the sweetness turned sour in my mouth. It didn¡¯t matter that I¡¯d made here twice or that I still felt her warmth in my hands.


    I didn¡¯t have much, but I had my pride, and I¡¯d be damned before I became a woman¡¯s second-best option or her charity project.


    Austin sank down in a floppy heap next to my desk and gave a massive sigh.


    ¡°You and me both,¡± I told him.


    I pulled up the schedule to the spa and saved a copy of it to the desktop. I wouldn¡¯t hide and skulk around my own damn farm, but I knew it like the back of my hand. And if some of the roof tiles on the cottages along the eastern edge needed changing? Well, that was as good a use of my time as any.


    It worked like a charm-I didn¡¯t see her at all in theing days.

 Chapter 37

    I¡¯m nailing down a shingle when a familiar voice shouts from below.


    ¡°Morris! Do you need a hand?¡±


    I look down at Logan. ¡°There are no wires up here. Nothing electrical at all.¡±


    He shakes his head. ¡°I know how to wield a damn hammer.¡±


    Well then. I recognize the look of a man who needed something to do well enough. I saw it in the mirror most days.


    ¡°Grab some shingles and climb on up.¡±


    Logan tosses his t-shirt next to mine and grabs a handful of nails. A minuteter we¡¯re working away in silence under the zing sun. The shingles are hot under my hands, sweat beading along my neck and back. It feels good to be outside again-to work with my hands.


    Logan¡¯s movements are jerky at times, and the tension in his shoulders is clear. He lines up a nail but stops at thest second. ¡°Fucking Whittaker Instations,¡± he says.C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    I snort. ¡°You¡¯ll hear no argument from me.¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t do electrics. That¡¯s not their field. And yet¡­¡±


    ¡°Gavin Whittaker does it on the side. He¡¯s not trained for it, but you know how it is.¡± I shrug. ¡°People have known them forever.¡±


    Logan shakes his head. ¡°It¡¯s not safe. And then he has the audacity to say to people that I¡¯m unlicensed? Ass.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve worked since you were what, sixteen?¡±


    ¡°Fourteen,¡± he mutters. ¡°I know this shit like the back of my hand.¡±


    I hand him a shingle. Logan was never the most talkative of the guys in my unit, but he hade to me with his troubles from the start. During our first posting together, we¡¯d been at sea for nearly seven months straight and shared a tiny bunk bed. When they asked me if I had any requests for men I wanted under mymandter, well¡­ Logan was a given.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get more work in this town. People will see the truth.¡±


    ¡°They better.¡±


    I don¡¯t know much about his childhood, but from what I know, he¡¯s used to being on his own.


    Well, not in remont he won¡¯t. I¡¯ll put the full force of the tired, battered, overused Morris name behind him.


    ¡°Gavin¡¯s an ass, anyway.¡±


    ¡°He always was, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Have you heard from Larry recently?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I heard he got married out west.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious. With some girl he grew up with back in Oregon.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡± I find it difficult to see the fun-loving guy I remember-who spent most of his leave hanging in bars, picking up women with that wide grin of his-settling down. ¡°Good for him.¡±


    Logan hands me another box of nails. ¡°He always was a lucky bastard.¡±


    I¡¯m silent for a minute, thinking of his words. Lord knows the chance for happiness in this world is slim. If there is even a slight chance to attain it, you have to go for it.


    ¡°How¡¯s Mandy?¡±


    Logan brings the hammer down hard. ¡°How¡¯s Lucy?¡±


    Well-yed, brother. I line up another nail and strike it down in one smooth motion. We continue our work in silence, brothers in arms again beneath the zing Texas sun.


    When I woke up and Oliver was gone the next day, I wasn¡¯t surprised. My aunt and uncle were already hard at work in the kitchen below and it made sense that he slipped out before. Imagine exining that!


    The only reminder that he¡¯d ever been there at all was the masculine scent that clung to my sheets, and a pleasant, tingly soreness all through my body.


    Oliver Morris. I¡¯d slept with him, and I¡¯d be damned if it wasn¡¯t everything I¡¯d fantasied about and more. I already looked forward to seeing him again.


    But he wasn¡¯t at the ranch when I arrivedter.


    He wasn¡¯t there the next day, either.


    And he didn¡¯t text me.


    He didn¡¯t call.


    When I asked Mandy if he was in his office, the third day after the fair, she said he was at a supplier meeting out of town. I could take a hint.


    I thought I knew a lot about humiliation. It was the reason I¡¯d left Das in the first ce, but I just wished it didn¡¯t hurt so damn much. It wasn¡¯t just because the sex had been amazing, even though it had. Some of the things I had done and said-that he had done!-made me blush just to think about.


    But it was the way he¡¯d looked at me afterwards that haunted me most. I had thought, for a brief moment, that he would let me in. That I¡¯d been granted a view of the unguarded Oliver. He¡¯d held me as I slept, and I had let myself dream of a future where that could be a regr thing.


    And then¡­ nothing.


    On the third day of avoidance, I was hurt.


    On the fifth, I was pissed.


    Thoughts of him refused to leave me. They stayed with me daily, the great letters spelling Morris taunting me when I biked past them up to the ranch. He was everywhere, even if he was nowhere to be found.


    I hadn¡¯t left Das for this. And even if he regretted what we had done, despite how hurtful hearing it would be, he should be able to tell me. I could ept that.


    Even during my massage work-one of my favorite things to do-my mind refused to cooperate. It kept running through what happened, thinking of where I went wrong. Oliver¡¯s attempts to avoid me were gettingical. We work together, for Christ sake.


    I run my thumb over a painful knot in the client¡¯s right rhomboid muscle.


    What¡¯s Oliver thinking, anyway? That we¡¯ll just never meet again? I could text him, but I want to see his face when we talk.


    The knot is moving, but it¡¯s noting undone. I apply more pressure.

 Chapter 38

    Besides, I¡¯m not going to be weak anymore. I was in the past, but that Lucy is gone. That was the whole point ofing to remont.


    A new me and a new beginning.


    Oliver has to talk to me.


    I¡¯ll make him.


    ¡°Ow,¡± my client says. ¡°I know I asked for a sports massage, but is it possible to lessen the pressure a bit?¡±


    I loosen my death grip on him. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, sir. I hope it didn¡¯t hurt too much.¡±


    He gives a weakugh. ¡°Not to worry. I know I abuse my poor back, and I guess this is penance.¡±


    I smooth across the area I¡¯d assaulted too roughly. ¡°Maybe, but it should never be too painful. Thank you for telling me.¡±


    I finish the massage with the utmost care. My anger is tightly leashed, locked down and controlled under the surface. I can¡¯t let my emotions influence my work. No-not my emotions. Oliver.


    I wave goodbye to the client and set about cleaning the studio. I polish a pair of brass candleholders. I clean the ss doors to the shower. I re-fold every single towel.


    When I¡¯ve stayed for more than an hour past the end of my shift, I lock the door to the spa behind me. It¡¯s time to test a little theory. Will the ranch owner appear when he thinks I¡¯m gone?


    Something tells me he will.


    I stroll through the stables and stop to stay hi to the horses. Ginger whinnies loudly and tosses her dark mane.


    ¡°Shh, baby, you¡¯re alright.¡± I run a hand over her soft muzzle. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you. We had fun the other week.¡±


    She snorts and puts her head against my shoulder. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re a pretty girl, aren¡¯t you? But of course, you already know that.¡±


    I stroke the side of her face for a long while, breathing in the familiar scent. There used to be a time when this was a major part of my life. It feels like forever ago, a different lifetime. A different Lucy. Someone much younger, a past version of myself. But maybe it¡¯s someone I¡¯m willing to get to know again.


    Her ears prick at the familiar sound of arge pick-up truck parking outside.


    ¡°Ah,¡± I tell Ginger. ¡°Is that your elusive owner? I think it might be.¡±


    I give her a final pat and head towards the edge of the barn, peeking around the edge. Oliver has parked right next to the entrance. A stack of wooden beams are piled up high on the back of his truck.


    Seeing him again is like a punch to the gut. Thest time I saw him, he had beenrge and golden and naked on my bed, his eyes soft and his hair tousled.


    This time he¡¯s sweaty. His nnel button-down is rolled up at the elbows, tan forearms exposed in all their glory. His hair is hidden beneath a cap, as usual. He grabs one of therge beams. It looks heavy, but he just slings it over his shoulder and begins unloading them one by one.


    His face is the same hard, neutral mask I¡¯vee to expect. There¡¯s no hint of the man who kissed me, who held me, who made love to me only days prior.


    No, I correct myself. Not made love. It¡¯s clear he didn¡¯t see it that way, not if he¡¯s been avoiding me. Used and discarded.


    I square my shoulders and head out. I refuse to be intimidated anymore. He catches sight of me and his eyes narrow. ¡°Lucy.¡±


    ¡°Hi, Oliver. What¡¯s up?¡±


    He grabs another giant beam. ¡°Working.¡±


    His tone is civil, bordering on the unkind. What did I do to deserve this kind of treatment? ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you around much.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been busy.¡±


    ¡°Busy avoiding me?¡±This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    His eyes find mine immediately. They¡¯re guarded, but he says nothing, just watches me. It¡¯s clear he¡¯s not going to answer my question.


    ¡°Can¡¯t we at least be civil about what happened?¡±


    He picks up another beam calmly, his face unreadable. ¡°And what happened exactly?¡±


    ¡°We slept together!¡±


    ¡°Oh, that. I remember.¡±


    It feels like a p. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡±


    ¡°Take your pick.¡±


    ¡°So now you¡¯re just going to ignore me? I didn¡¯t peg you as a coward, Oliver.¡±


    Angry eyes meet my own. ¡°I¡¯m giving us both space.¡±


    ¡°This is what you call space? Look, I know that you probably think it was unprofessional, and it¡¯s fine if you¡­ if you regret it, but we have to co-exist.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m co-existing,¡± he says, and suddenly his tone isn¡¯t calm at all. It¡¯s heated. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been doing this week. Co-existing.¡±


    I snort. ¡°This isn¡¯t peaceful co-existence. If it is, it¡¯s certainly not something I can do forever.¡±


    ¡°Forever? We both know you¡¯ll be here a lot shorter than that.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t even look at me when he says it, his back turned to me as he grabs another beam. For a long moment, all I can do is stare at him. The coldness, the aloofness-I¡¯d been so sure it was just a facade.


    But maybe it¡¯s just him.


    ¡°You¡¯re an asshole, Oliver. Do you know that? I heard¡­ never mind.¡± To my utter mortification, tears prick at my eyes. I blink them away. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re pushing me away. Let me know when you actually have a reason.¡±


    I turn, but his widened gaze lets me know he¡¯s already seen my tears. Damn it. I push the door open, ready to leave when his deep voice rings out.


    ¡°Because I have no idea why you slept with me.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±¡±I saw a text on your phone. From Kyle.¡± He says the name of my ex like a slur.


    ¡°Oh my god, Oliver.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be party to cheating,¡± he says, voice vibrating with sincerity. ¡°And I won¡¯t be another project you take on to help you figure yourself out.¡±

 Chapter 39

    I¡¯m so angry I can barely stand still. ¡°Kyle is my scumbag ex-boyfriend. He texts me at least three times a week. Do you want to see the conversation? It¡¯s very one-sided. Sometimes he begs for me back and sometimes he calls me a bitch.¡±


    Oliver¡¯s face is stone. ¡°The text was sweet.¡±


    ¡°Because he¡¯s ashamed. I caught him in bed with my former best friend. Trust me when I say that I have absolutely no intention of taking him back, no matter how sweet his texts are. I could have told you all of this, if you would have just asked me.¡±


    He¡¯s silent for a few painful heartbeats. Then he moves, taking a hesitant step towards me. ¡°Shit. Lucy, I¡­¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re wondering why I slept with you?¡± I hold on to the barn door, praying my tears don¡¯t fall. ¡°It was because I wanted you. I wanted you more than I¡¯ve ever wanted anyone before. Because you¡¯re¡­ because somehow, for some reason, I like you. But not right now, Oliver.¡±


    I leave before my tears fall.


    He doesn¡¯t follow.


    Shit.


    It¡¯s like I¡¯m back at Boot Camp, when everything you did was wrong. With pouring rain and mile-long hikes, with heavy equipment and grueling conditions, our drill sergeant screaming down the heavens with obscenities.


    Talk about having my ass handed to me.


    I misread the situation. It¡¯s a tactical error-a blunder-but it¡¯s a fucking costly one. Lucy leaves without another word, and I¡¯m left stewing in my own anger and despair.


    Her scumbag ex-boyfriend.


    I ignored her for a solid week after taking her to bed. By any ount, it¡¯s an asshole move. I had pulled away instead of confronting her about it, and I¡¯m not too proud to admit that I recognize the pattern. Lucy had gotten close. I had said things¡­ spoken about things I hadn¡¯t for a long time.


    If we got closer, she would want to know more. She¡¯d want me to open boxes I¡¯d sealed off long ago. Could I handle that? Did I even want to?


    She called me a coward.


    I toss a beam so hard against the barn door that it chips the red paint. It¡¯s not an epithet I¡¯mfortable wearing. I slept with you because I wanted to, she¡¯d said. I had wanted her too-badly. I still do. That never changed, not even when I thought she¡¯d cheated on her boyfriend with me.


    I head back to my office and pull up Lucy¡¯s schedule. Business is picking up for both of us, it seems. She¡¯s booked nearly every day this week and the ranch is hosting two yoga sses. It¡¯s partly because of the high season, but some of it is due to good old word of mouth. remont has never had a spa before.


    Lucy has a client booked at noon tomorrow. Perfect. I have to make this right.


    I could call her or shoot her a text. But face to facemunication has always been my thing. And with her¡­ with this¡­ I want to see her reactions. Know what to say.


    Sleep doesn¡¯te easy that night. It¡¯s hot for the season, but I know better than to me my restlessness on the weather. This time, it¡¯s entirely of my own making. Lucy¡¯s disappointed eyes, shiny with tears, are fixed in my mind. I rey her heated words over and over again. Coward.


    The memory mingles with the feeling of her soft lips pressing against my neck, her body nestled close. For a moment, it had felt like something more. Something I don¡¯t have the words to exin, not even to myself. I toss and turn in bed, throwing the thin sheet off me. I¡¯m up before the break of dawn.


    Time moves impossibly slowly during the day. Austin can feel my restlessness. He lies at my feet, ncing up at me every so often.


    When the timees, I head down to the staff kitchen. There¡¯s a giant cardboard box of ice cream in the freezer, bought for the staff BBQ, and I¡¯m going to raid it. I¡¯ll go to the spa with an apology and a store-bought ice-cream cone. It¡¯s not exactly flowers and chocte, but it¡¯ll have to do.


    I hear the sound of tires on gravel and then the patter of small feet running up the front steps to reception. Sarah is early. Voices echo as the girls chat with Mandy. The kids. Lucy liked talking to them before. If I bring them along¡­ she¡¯ll have to talk to me.


    It¡¯s a dirty move, but I¡¯ll use every trick in the book to keep me in the game.


    I push open the door to reception. Sophia is on her tip-toes, getting a mint from Mandy, her hair in two ponytails. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Nora is sprawled on the floor. She has grabbed one of the huge stic sunflowers Sarah put in the corner and is holding it in front of her face. ¡°Look! I¡¯m a lion!¡±


    Sophia nces over. ¡°No, you¡¯re not.¡±


    ¡°Yes! This is my mane. Rawr!¡±


    I lean down and scoop her up. Nora shrieks in delight, her little legs kicking, and throws away the sunflower. ¡°Ollie!¡±


    ¡°Hi, kiddos.¡±


    Sophia hugs my leg and I pat her head. She¡¯s getting tall.


    ¡°Mom didn¡¯t say you¡¯d be here,¡± Nora says.


    ¡°He works here, silly,¡± Sophia tells her little sister. ¡°He¡¯s always here.¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    She looks up at me for reassurance at the same time as Nora frowns. Uh-oh. ¡°Most of the time I am, yeah. This is my job. But sometimes I¡¯m out to meet suppliers. Where¡¯s your mom?¡±


    Mandy answers with a smile. ¡°Sarah is upstairs grabbing a few documents. I told her the girls could wait with me.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I set Nora down and squat to their height. ¡°How do you feel about having some ice cream? I think we have two cones left, and they really need to be eaten.¡±


    Nora gives a shout of happiness and Sophia grins. She¡¯s lost another tooth. ¡°We¡¯d be doing you a favor by finishing them?¡±


    ¡°Yes. A huge favor. I¡¯d be in your debt for a very long time.¡±


    ¡°How long?¡±


    I pretend to consider it. ¡°A month.¡±


    Sophia makes the decision. ¡°We¡¯re in.¡±


    We head to the kitchen and began a painstaking debate about what vors to choose. I grab two chocte ones for me and Lucy. I don¡¯t know what she likes, but hell, no one can say no to chocte.


    Nora giggles. ¡°Uncle, you can¡¯t have two ice creams.¡±


    ¡°One is for Lucy. She¡¯s the nicedy you bought cookies from. She works here too.¡±


    ¡°She does?¡± Sophia looks around the kitchen, as if expecting Lucy to pop out from beneath a counter. ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°Out by the spa. It¡¯s on the other side of the ranch. Let¡¯s go give her ice-cream and stop by the horses on our way back.¡±


    It¡¯s an even lousier trick-if there¡¯s one thing the girls can never say no to, it¡¯s the horses-but it gets exactly the response I expected. Both girls grin, ecstatic. I¡¯m gaining massive uncle points today.


    I carry Nora and grab Sophia¡¯s hand. She¡¯s holding a small basket with our ice-cream in the other, her expression proud.


    I stop by the stairs to the office and call up. ¡°Sarah?¡±

 Chapter 40

    ¡°Yeah?¡±¡±I¡¯m taking the girls out to see the horses. We¡¯ll be around the eastern part for a bit.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Ollie!¡±


    We amble slowly across the ranch. The ce is bustling with activity today, with busy preparations for the wedding season. The first wedding is only a week away and everything needs to be in order. Mini fridges for the outdoor bar just arrived and I can see Tim and Jack sorting through the huge number of chairs we have stocked for the outdoor ceremony.


    Nora tugs at a strand of my hair again. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t Sophia or me have this color?¡±


    Sophia looks up at her sister. ¡°Because Mom and Dad don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s gic,¡± I say. ¡°But your mom is my sister, and we had the same parents. So technically, either of you might have had it. Maybe your kids will in turn. Who knows?¡±


    ¡°Ge-ne-tic,¡± Nora spells out. ¡°Gic, gic, gic.¡±


    Great. Now she¡¯s going to be stuck on that word for a week. I give her a little bounce. ¡°It¡¯s a big word, kiddo. I¡¯ll exin it to you when you¡¯re older.¡±


    We turn a corner and walk under the leafy trees that surround the spa. Sophia tugs at my hand. ¡°I¡¯ve never been this far away from the main house before.¡±


    ¡°No, we didn¡¯t use this part a lot before Lucy came.¡±


    ¡°The spaaaa,¡± Nora drawls. ¡°Mom said it¡¯s a spaaaa.¡±


    I smile at her exaggerated tone. ¡°A spa, yes. Where people rx.¡±


    We reach the spa fifteen minutes past one. I know the client will be gone by then, but I¡¯m counting on Lucy staying behind for a bit. She usually does.


    Sophia races up the stairs. She stops on the top step, her hand poised, and shoots me a questioning look.


    ¡°Go on. You can knock.¡±


    She knocks softly, but Lucy hears. ¡°Come on in!¡±


    Sophia tugs the door open and peers inside. I stick my head in, too, Nora dangling from my arms. The ce looks immacte.


    ¡°Hi, there! I¡¯ll be with you in just a moment! Feel free to have a seat.¡±


    The chipperness in her voice makes my chest tight. She¡¯s always unfailingly happy and dedicated to cheering others up. It was less than a week ago that her smile had been turned on me and me alone.


    ¡°We¡¯re not customers.¡±


    She peeks out of the supply closet, her expression unreadable. ¡°Oh.¡± Her head disappears again, and a momentter she reappears with a stack of towels in her arms. A blonde strand of hair has escaped from her ponytail. She aims a blinding smile at the kids. ¡°Hi!¡±


    Nora waves. ¡°Hello!¡±


    ¡°We brought ice cream.¡± Sophia lifts up her basket.


    Lucy¡¯s eyes meet mine. I see the calction there, the insight. She knows what I¡¯ve done, but she also knows there¡¯s no escape. I shrug. What¡¯s a man to do?


    Her indecision onlysts a moment. ¡°You did? That¡¯s amazing! I love ice cream.¡±


    ¡°We chose chocte,¡± Nora adds.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±¡±Let¡¯s sit outside?¡± I nod towards the bench. ¡°The weather¡¯s nice.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll be there in a second.¡±


    It¡¯s hot in the shade, but bearably so. I pull Nora onto myp and help her with the wrapping paper.


    ¡°Did you sell a lot of cookies?¡± Sophia asks. ¡°At the fair?¡±


    Lucy nods. ¡°Yes, a whole lot. Nearly two hundred.¡±


    ¡°Two hundred?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Scout¡¯s honor.¡±


    Nora is quiet,pletely absorbed in her ice cream, but she perks up at this. ¡°How many did you eat?¡±


    ¡°Me I ate two.¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    Nora shakes her head. ¡°I¡¯d eat a hundred if I worked there.¡±


    I shake my head too, pretending to be disappointed. ¡°What a waste,¡± I tell Lucy. ¡°A waste.¡±


    Her gaze rests on mine for the first time since we¡¯ve sat down. There¡¯s carefulness there, yes, but also amusement. It¡¯s more than I could¡¯ve hoped for.


    ¡°Really? Would you have eaten more?¡±


    I open my mouth to reply but Sophia beats me to it. ¡°Uncle Ollie can eat so much. Like, this much.¡± She holds out her hands a couple of feet apart. Lucyughs, the sound spreading warmth through me.


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s a lot!¡±


    ¡°Mom says it¡¯s because of his metallic rate,¡± Sophia says. She whispers the mistaken word like it¡¯s a disease.


    ¡°Thanks for ratting me out, kid,¡± I tell her, but I pat her on the head to make sure she knows I¡¯m joking.


    Lucy¡¯s lips tug at the corners as she shoots me another look. ¡°His metabolic rate? Well, adults do need more food than kids.¡± She tweaks Sophia¡¯s nose. ¡°And men usually need more than women.¡±


    Nora hands me her finished popsicle stick and leans back against me. She¡¯s growing big, too, her little body heavier than I¡¯m used to. It feels like just yesterday that Sarah announced she was going to marry John.


    ¡°You full?¡±


    She nods and reaches up to put her sticky hand in my hair. It¡¯s be her thing,tely. Maybe Austin and I are bing mutually interchangeable-hard to tell apart.


    ¡°Pretty uncle,¡± she murmurs, as if by reflex.


    Lucy¡¯s warm smile right then could break my heart. Her features are soft, her eyes softer still, one of her hands resting on Sophia¡¯s back.


    ¡°He is pretty,¡± she agrees.

 Chapter 41

    I¡¯m not entirely sure that¡¯s the way I want to be described, not by Lucy, but I¡¯ll take it.


    Sophia looks up at me. Her face is scrunched in an intense look of concentration. ¡°You do have really pretty hair.¡±


    ¡°Ge-ne-tic,¡± Nora murmurs.


    ¡°I had a buzz cut for many, many years. It used to be this short,¡± I tell them, holding up my thumb and index finger barely a hairsbreadth apart.


    Sophia¡¯s eyes are huge. ¡°Really?¡±Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±What did it feel like?¡±


    ¡°Like a carpet. Maybe I should cut it again, actually. It¡¯s getting long.¡±


    There¡¯s a chorus of protest from the girls-from all three of them.


    I look up at Lucy. ¡°No?¡±


    There¡¯s a faint blush on her cheeks. ¡°No. This suits you.¡±


    ¡°Alright, then. I won¡¯t cut it.¡±


    Nora sags in relief and Sophia shoots me an approving thumbs-up, the cutie.


    Lucy asks the girls about their summer and the fair, and I listen to her soft voice. She might not be talking to me, and I haven¡¯t been able to ask for her forgiveness yet, but still¡­ being near her is like a balm to my soul.


    Sophia is describing her new scooter when Nora starts squirming in myp.


    ¡°Look! Look!¡± She slides off and races down the path. Austin is bounding towards us, just as eager as she is.


    Lucyughs. ¡°I was just wondering where your constantpanion was!¡±


    Sophia puts her ice cream wrapper down carefully on the bench before she runs after her sister. Lucy and I watch as they take turns petting a very happy Austin. He¡¯s on his back, mouth open and his tongue out, getting belly rubs.


    He¡¯s in heaven.


    Lucy smiles. ¡°They¡¯re wonderful.¡±


    ¡°They are.¡±


    ¡°But don¡¯t think you can fool me, by the way. I know what this is.¡± She raises an eyebrow at me. ¡°An borate ambush.¡±


    I move closer to her on the bench. ¡°I was an ass. I jumped to conclusions, I ignored you, and I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    She crosses her legs. With her hair back and her white button-down, she looks clean, and proper. Too beautiful to be real. ¡°I understand,¡± she says softly. ¡°It was a misunderstanding. I¡¯m sure I would havee to the same conclusions if I was you.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Are we okay?¡±


    She nods. ¡°We¡¯re okay.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about the client you just had.¡±


    ¡°You already know who it was.¡±


    ¡°Still.¡±


    She shakes her head, smiling. ¡°It was a guest from Acton. Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t see it on the booking. Someone had even written it in the margins.¡±


    ¡°I figured you¡¯d want to know.¡±


    ¡°It turned out that she taught chemistry in my old high school, although it was before my time. She had some inmmation in one of her trapezoids. I told her to see a chiropractor.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever thought about bing a physical therapist?¡±


    She nods, a distant look on her face as she watches the girls try to y fetch with Austin. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve actually thought about it a great deal.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be great at it.¡±


    ¡°You think?¡±¡±Yes. You¡¯ve got the touch.¡±


    She pulls her legs up and rests her chin on bent knees. Her gaze is open and earnest as she looks at me. ¡°Why¡¯d you name him Austin?¡±


    I clear my throat and look away from her eyes. Sometimes it feels like she sees right through me. ¡°It¡¯s where I signed up. It¡¯s also where I was on bed rest after my final deployment.¡±


    Longshes sweep down and her soft lips part. I wish I could pull her close and wrap an arm around her shoulders. ¡°Why did you decide to leave the Marines? Did you miss this ce too much? I know I would¡¯ve.¡±


    The unease is back in my stomach, but I¡¯m not going to run this time. ¡°I was injured, and I¡¯d already served for damn near a decade. Figured it was time.¡±


    ¡°Your shoulder?¡±


    I nod.


    ¡°You know, I could take a look at it sometime. I mean, I¡¯m not an expert, but massaging the muscles could help with¡­ with stuff.¡±


    Right. Stuff. Because I¡¯d told her there wasn¡¯t any pain. I have no doubt that her hands would feel unreal. I already know how they feel elsewhere.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±I hate the careful way she¡¯s acting. It¡¯s the same way most of the people in town treat me these days. I want to bring back the lightness in her eyes. But what do I say? That I only feel myself around her? That she¡¯s the best thing that¡¯s walked onto this property in decades?


    Her hand rests between us on the bench, curved softly around the edge. I shift closer with a nce towards the girls, but they¡¯re not looking at us. Austin has their undivided attention.


    I run a finger over the soft skin on the back of her hand. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Lucy doesn¡¯t look at me, her bright blue gaze focused on our hands as they slowly intertwine.


    ¡°What do we do now?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea.¡±


    Her eyes snap back to mine, and for a moment, I think I¡¯ve rendered her speechless. I can¡¯t help but smile. ¡°You said earlier that it was fine if I regretted it, but I don¡¯t. Not by a long shot. I hate the thought of you thinking I only wanted a one-night kind of thing. It was one of the best nights of my life.¡±

 Chapter 42

    Lucy¡¯s cheeks flush a wonderful bright pink. ¡°It was pretty great.¡±


    ¡°Pretty great?¡±


    Sheughs, and the sound eases thest of my tension. ¡°Amazing. Magical. Perfect. What more adjectives do you want?¡±


    ¡°All of them.¡±


    Her hand tightens around mine. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you this week.¡±


    And I¡¯d missed seeing her around. She¡¯s looking at me in anticipation, and I know I need to be brave, tell her what I want.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t done this whole dating thing for a long time. But I want to spend more time with you, and I want to do it right.¡±


    Lucy¡¯s smile is sweet, tentative and hopeful, all in one. My heartbeat speeds up in response, fueled by nerves and anticipation of my own. ¡°I¡¯d like that,¡± she says.


    I lift our intertwined hands and press a kiss to the back of hers. ¡°We can be whatever we want to be, Luce,¡± I say. ¡°It¡¯s up to us.¡±


    I dust my hands off my apron and grab another cellophane bag. I could do this in my sleep by now. Five chocte chip cookies stacked, a ribbon tied around, a sticker with the By the Rhode logo and boom-another bag finished and ready to sell.


    There¡¯s something meditative with the bakery, something I didn¡¯t know I¡¯d missed. The familiar steps to a recipe, the thoughtful process behind each cake, loaf of bread, or cookie. The love that my aunt and uncle pour into their work each and every day. They might not be changing the world, but they¡¯re very inspiring, nheless.


    Phil gives ire a kiss on the cheek and gives me a cheery wave. ¡°I¡¯m heading out. See youter, Luce! Take care of the ce!¡±


    ¡°I always do!¡± I smile and wave him off as he gets in his little van, loaded with bread.


    My aunt smiles as she continues with her baking. She¡¯s making carrot cake today and the spicy scent is thick in the air. ¡°Every morning, he says the same thing.¡±


    ¡°Well, I might have forgotten, you know. You can never be too careful.¡±


    She shakes her head, but her smile is soft. It¡¯s been amazing to see them like this again now that I¡¯m an adult myself. To see the joy they bring to one another. It¡¯s a love I can¡¯t wait to experience myself-to grow old together with someone and support one another throw thick and thin.


    She looks up at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. ¡°You look great, sweetheart.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±¡±Much better than when you first arrived.¡± A hand dusted with flour settles on my cheek, and warm eyes meet mine. ¡°The ranch has done you good.¡±


    ¡°So has the bakery.¡±This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    ¡°Yes, well, a few early mornings and the smell of yeast will do that to you. Pass me the salt?¡±


    She¡¯s right. When I looked in the mirror that morning, I saw someone I had missed for weeks, with rosy cheeks and happy eyes. It¡¯s a joy to have the old me back. And while herment wasn¡¯t meant that way¡­ the ranch has done me good.


    I can¡¯t help but grin as I package the rest of the cookies. Phil¡¯s round of deliveries includes a stop at Morris Ranch, delivering bread and loaves. I¡¯d slipped a little something into the delivery-a small bag of heart-shaped sugar cookies, tied off with a bow.


    It had been an impulse. When I came down to the bakery in the early morning, the familiar cratesbeled Morris were stacked in the corner, and I couldn¡¯t resist. I slipped a five-dor bill into the cash register when my aunt wasn¡¯t looking, to make sure I paid for them.


    All the usual morning customers swing by. Mrs. Masters stops by for her banana bread andments that my hair looks nice today. By that, I figure she means it looks tidy. No strands loose-I¡¯d piled it perfectly atop my head. I¡¯d seen her looking at my messy buns more than once with disapproval.


    Oh well. You can¡¯t please them all.


    Doubt sets in halfway through the morning rush. What if someone else found the heart cookies? I¡¯m sure Oliver doesn¡¯t unpack his own deliveries. I give myself five minutes to fret before I shake my head at my own silliness. I won¡¯t give in to doubt or fear. He had said it himself-we can be anything we want. No pressure, no constraints.


    I¡¯m stacking the shelves behind the counter with fresh loaves when the bell by the door jingles again.


    ¡°Hi there. What can I help you with?¡±


    A familiar man strolls forward, a dark cap in hand. ¡°Sure can, miss. My name is Gavin Whittaker.¡±


    It rings a bell. ¡°I think we¡¯ve met before, haven¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°We have indeed, although it was brief.¡± His smile is all sweetness, but there¡¯s something off with his eyes. ¡°And you¡¯re Lucy Rhodes herself.¡±


    I smile, a bit awkwardly. ¡°Have you heard the new-girl-in-town talk, too?¡±


    ¡°A bit. Though you¡¯ve made your own mark, too. I¡¯ve seen your flyers.¡±


    ¡°You have?¡± It¡¯s been weeks since I took those down.


    He rests his elbows on the counter. ¡°You work up at the Morris Ranch?¡±


    ¡°I do, yes. Oliver and Sarah have installed a spa and I give treatments there.¡±


    ¡°Do you only ept fancy out-of-town guests, or are locals wee too?¡±


    ¡°The spa is open for all. You can book through reception.¡±


    He picks up one of the small bags of cookies from the disy basket and flips it over with a rough hand. ¡°I might have to do that, then. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯vest had a massage.¡±


    ¡°The treatment list is online. Feel free to have a look at the different options.¡±


    Gavin looks up at me, his gaze sly. ¡°I¡¯m sure it would be possible to sort out a more¡­ individual kind of treatment. You know, to treat any special needs.¡±


    Well, he certainly proved my intuition correct. Slimeball.


    ¡°The treatment list is online,¡± I repeat and pluck the bag of cookies from his hand. ¡°There are no extras. Will you be buying that?¡±


    His smile is there and gone in an instant, amused, dismayed, challenged. His features settle into a neutral mask as he fishes out a twenty-dor bill. ¡°Yes. Keep the change.¡±


    ¡°Oh, but-¡±


    He¡¯s already grabbed the cookies and heads to the door. ¡°Consider it an advance,¡± he winks. ¡°See you around, Lucy.¡±


    The door shuts behind him and I let out a shaky breath.


    It is not the first time I¡¯ve been propositioned like that, by men who misunderstand or mistake what I do for¡­ for something else, but it¡¯s by far the most unsettling. remont is small, and it¡¯s weing, but it can also be narrow-minded. I turn the volume on the radio up and try to lose myself to the upbeat pop tune. I know my worth. My friends and family know my worth. What other people think is their own concern.


    As my mother often said-you can¡¯t control what they think, but you can control whether you let it affect you or not. His opinion only defines me if I let it, and I won¡¯t. Nothing can ruin how I feel now, how remont has made me feel. Jerks like him will always circle around this business like vultures.


    But I won¡¯t let them affect me anymore.

 Chapter 43

    I shake off the encounter as I bike back up to the ranch that afternoon. My client is a woman from remont who my aunt drinks tea with on asion. She gives me a nervous smile when I greet her and tells me about her issues with back pain. An hourter I¡¯ve tried to give her both pain relief, muscle adjustment and a tiny bit of life advice.


    ¡°Using a heating pad at night, when you¡¯re watching TV, will help a lot with pain management. I rmend that you see a chiropractor or your doctor and see what can be done long-term if the pain persists. Massaging out the knots in the area will help, but it won¡¯t solve the underlying issue.¡±


    She grabs my hand and squeezes it once, a smile on her face. ¡°Thank you, honey. Your aunt told me I should try this and I¡¯m not disappointed. I¡¯ll get a heating pad.¡±


    ¡°Let me know if it helps.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±I¡¯m folding towels when the door to the spa opens behind me. It¡¯s exactly fifteen minutes past the end of my shift and I don¡¯t even need to turn around to know who it is.


    I smile. ¡°You¡¯re like clockwork.¡±


    Strong arms wrap around my waist and the scent of man, grass, and leather overwhelms me. His hair tickles my temple. ¡°Am I that predictable?¡±


    I lean back against the hard chest, his closeness setting my heart off. I¡¯ve longed for his touch. ¡°Yes. You¡¯re not mysterious at all, you know. An open book.¡±


    ¡°I should work on that.¡± His lips trace my neck, the scruff of his chin pleasurably rough against my skin. ¡°Were the cookies in today¡¯s delivery from you?¡±


    ¡°Mmm, maybe. Did you like them?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve eaten about half.¡±


    I grin. ¡°High metabolic rate, huh?¡±


    ¡°Apparently.¡± His lips continue down my neck and make it hard for me to focus. ¡°Have dinner with me at the farmhouse. We can cook, drink wine on the porch¡­ I¡¯ll be on my best behavior.¡±


    I put my hand over his and trace the strength of his forearm. ¡°Watch the sunset?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±His hands are gentle, but I can feel the tension in his body as he waits for my reply. It¡¯s been over a week since the fair. We haven¡¯t touched like this since¡­ I can¡¯t think of that night, or I¡¯llbust.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have dinner with you.¡±


    Oliver¡¯s arm tightens around my waist before he lets me go. ¡°Good.¡±


    He¡¯s arge and calm presence beside me as I finish up. He helps fold a few towels and waits patiently for me to get my things.


    ¡°This will be in full use when the wedding party is here next week.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already started working on the package for the bridesmaids,¡± I smile. ¡°They can be in the hot tub, face masks on, while I give one-on-one massages.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a natural at this.¡±


    We walk close, closer than strictly necessary, all the way back up to the main house. His button-down is cuffed at the elbows and he¡¯s not wearing a cap today. Thick, golden hair falls over his forehead. It¡¯s truly ridiculous how attractive he is, how the rough-hewn aspects of his features only make him more so. He¡¯srger than any man I¡¯ve ever been with-there¡¯s just so much more of him.


    I stop by the main house and nce at the reception. Oliver is still by my side, watching me. He can sense my hesitation.


    ¡°They don¡¯t have to know.¡±


    I nod. ¡°I¡¯d like that. Just let me fetch my bike.¡±


    Oliver rolls his eyes at my precaution, but he doesn¡¯t object, grabbing it for me. It rolls silently in the grass beside him as we walk towards his house. The house he lives in is smaller than the farmhouse, yes, but it has infinitely more charm. I love the wraparound porch.


    ¡°I¡¯ll drive you hometer.¡±


    ¡°I can bike, it¡¯s not-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll drive you home.¡±


    Austines rushing out the back door and weaves between my legs. His coat is glossy under the zing sun.


    ¡°Hi there, buddy. You¡¯re a good boy. Yes¡­ oh?¡± He flops down, belly up, and I grin. ¡°Greedy, too.¡±


    Oliver watches me, eyes unreadable. ¡°I bought food from Ricky¡¯s. Is that alright?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Am I finally going to get the Morris special?¡±


    He snorts and heads into the kitchen. ¡°Never.¡±


    I hop onto one of the chairs by the kitchen counter. A vase of sunflowers stands in the middle and I smile. It has Sarah¡¯s fingerprints all over. She does a lot to take care of him, I¡¯ve realized.


    ¡°It must be exhausting, being such a figure in town.¡±


    Oliver shuts the fridge and starts removing the tinfoil from tworge tters with methodical precision. His shoulders are taut. ¡°It can be.¡±


    ¡°Will you tell me more about yourself tonight?¡±


    ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°This house. Is this where you lived with your parents?¡±


    ¡°No, we lived in the farmhouse.¡±


    The big house, which is now the reception and the main hotel for the retreat. I can¡¯t imagine what growing up in a house like that must have been like. Maybe he hears the question in my voice, because he continues, unprompted.


    ¡°My father died some years back. When Sarah and I looked through the books, it turned out the ce was more or less insolvent. Turns out the ranch hadn¡¯t been profitable for decades.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He grabs the tes and nods to the porch. ¡°Shall we?¡±Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    ¡°Let¡¯s. Should I get anything?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a pitcher of tea in the fridge and sses in the top left cab.¡±


    The table on the porch overlooks the meadow, and the evening sun makes the high grass gleam golden. I could stay here forever.


    ¡°Was it your idea to convert the ranch to a bed and breakfast?¡±


    ¡°Yes. We didn¡¯t have an option, really. It was either that or sell it.¡±

 Chapter 44

    I think of the heavy, silver-ted letters hanging by the gates to the Ranch. Morris. Selling it would have broken his heart.


    ¡°It¡¯s a sess now.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯d call it that just yet.¡±


    I smile. ¡°It¡¯s fully booked all of July. It¡¯s given the town jobs and tourism. You¡¯ve given me a job. All of that has to be worth something?¡±


    Oliver¡¯s eyes soften. ¡°It is,¡± he says. ¡°What did you do in Das?¡±


    ¡°I worked at a massage clinic and spa. One of thergest in the city, actually.¡± And one of the shittiest. I pour myself a ss of ice tea and try to sort through the jumble of memories and emotions. I want to learn more about him, but I¡¯d rather skip talking about myself.


    He waits for me to find my words.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t end well,¡± I say finally. ¡°My employment.¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    There¡¯s no judgment in his silence. ¡°It didn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°No. And at the same time as that happened, my ex turned out to be a creep and my best friend a liar. I stayed in Das for a while after that, but the city quickly lost its charm.¡±


    ¡°And then you came here.¡±


    ¡°Yes, then I came here,¡± I repeat. ¡°And I¡¯m so happy I did.¡±


    He¡¯s easy to talk to, every part of him radiating safety andfort. I don¡¯t want to go anywhere else. We sit infortable silence as the sun begins its slow descent across the horizon. No words are needed, not for that beauty. Oliver runs a hand through his hair and motions to me.


    ¡°Come here.¡±I sit down next to him on the porch swing. A strong arm wraps around my shoulders and pulls me close.


    ¡°Look at that,¡± he murmurs.


    The sunset is a ze of glory, orange and pinks and purples, all across the field. It¡¯s summer, it¡¯s warm, and I¡¯ve never been more content.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± I breathe.


    He traces a rough finger down my shoulder. ¡°Are you cold?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I put a hand on his chest. I know what it looks like, the tan skin and the taut muscles. Oliver¡¯s arm tightens, as if he can sense my mood.


    ¡°You drive me mad, Luce.¡±


    ¡°I do?¡± I slide my hand down the hard nes of his stomach.


    Oliver¡¯s groan is barely audible. ¡°Yes. You have since the first time I met you.¡±


    ¡°That long?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been driving me insane since the first time you biked up here in those tiny shorts, your hair undone¡­¡±


    I reach up and kiss his neck. ¡°It¡¯s the same for me,¡± I tell him. ¡°I see you stride across the ranch and I think I might die from wanting you.¡±


    He catches my hand as it traces his belt buckle, and when he speaks, his voice is tight. ¡°Don¡¯t. I can¡¯t stop thinking about the night we spent at yours.¡±


    ¡°It haunts me, too. I wake up wanting you, and I go to bed longing,¡± I say. ¡°It¡¯s been too long.¡±


    His voice is rough. ¡°Not for ack of wanting.¡±


    I¡¯m not sure who moves first, because when we collide, it overwhelms mepletely. I¡¯m tugged forward and atop him, straddled across his hard belt buckle. His hands are bruising in their intensity. It¡¯s like he can¡¯t decide if he wants to pull me closer or push me away, to surrender or to keep fighting.


    I plunge my hands into his thick hair. Surrender, I think. I want him to be as lost to this as I am. With a groan, he stands, my legs wrapped around his waist. I¡¯m vaguely aware of being airborne. The screen door closes behind us with a soft click, but I don¡¯t stop kissing him. I couldn¡¯t even if I tried.


    His lips taste of sweet ice tea and barbecue sauce and intensity. They¡¯re firm and demanding on mine. The touch sends heat through my limbs, twined around him, and warmth pools in my stomach. Yes, I think. Yes, yes, yes.


    Oliver stops at the bottom of a staircase. I slide down his body slowly, his hands wrapped tightly around my waist. His blue eyes are dark with desire.


    ¡°You¡¯re sleeping here tonight.¡±


    ¡°Mmm,¡± I say, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him again.


    The heat between us burns hotter than it didst week. His hands are everywhere; they¡¯re fire on my skin as he tears at the buttons of my shirt. When he tugs down my shorts and runs reverent hands over my thighs, my eyes roll back a bit. It¡¯s too much to be wanted by this man. I can¡¯t bear it.


    Oliver goes down on me again, hands holding my legs apart, and I have to grip his sheets to keep from straining away from that mouth. He knows me too well, and still¡­ I never want him to stop. I break apart under his hands and tongue.


    I touch him the same way. Sprawled atop him on his massive bed, he¡¯s a golden mess of man and I want him everywhere. I trace the groove of his corbone and the scarred skin of his shoulder.


    These are things I¡¯ll remember forever-the growling sound he makes when I stroke him, hard and throbbing in my hand. A sweaty forehead against my shoulder, hair tickling my skin. When he murmurs my name, a prayer and a plea in one. He tastes salty and slick, and I look up at him as I do my best to make him burn like I am.


    Because I¡¯m on fire. The world could be ending outside of this bed-it might as well not exist at all. Nothing matters but him and this, the wing, burning need inside of me to make us one.


    I notice things I didn¡¯t, that first, delirious time in my studio apartment. The way his chest hair feels against my breasts when he fills me. How he will time the deep thrust of his hips with slow kisses. How the hair at the nape of his neck curls, just slightly, with the humidity and heat rising between us.


    Oliver brings me over the edge twice before he finds his own release. So caught in my own desirest time, I nearly missed it. I make sure I don¡¯t this time.


    I wrap my legs around his waist and run my hands along the powerful muscles of his back. His gaze, heady with need and lust, meets mine and I refuse to look away. I want to see it. I want to see him like this, lost in me, just as I¡¯m lost in him.


    Oliver shudders as hees, his eyes shuttering for a few moments. I hold him close and feel the aftershocks as my body squeezes around him.


    He copses on top of me, still buried inside, his breath heavy against my temple. I never want to move from this spot, enveloped in his warmth. I want to know all of him.


    ¡°You¡¯re never getting rid of me now,¡± I say.


    I feel the faint exhale of hisugh. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like a problem.¡±


    I sleep better than I have in years.


    Her warmth against me and the soft tickle of her hair against my chest is thest thing I remember before I drift off into blissful, dreamless sleep. It isn¡¯t until the early morning hours that I feel her stir in my arms.


    I¡¯m awake in an instant. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± She yawns, pulling back her hair. ¡°I have to head back to the bakery.¡±

 Chapter 45

    ¡°Now?¡±


    ¡°My aunt and uncle start working soon, and I can¡¯t exactly slip in through the front door when they think I¡¯m asleep upstairs. Besides-¡°she nces at the clock on my nightstand-¡°my shift starts in two hours.¡±


    I tug her back and throw my leg over both of hers. Her skin is warm and soft against mine, and I want to fall back asleep. ¡°What if I just keep you here instead?¡±


    ¡°Keep me prisoner?¡±


    ¡°This house has all the necessary amenities.¡± I kiss the small birthmark atop her right breast. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t break the Geneva convention.¡±


    Lucyughs again, and I smile in response. ¡°I¡¯ll happily surrender to you any other day.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a promise.¡±


    She cups my face with a soft hand. Her nails gently rasp against the scruff on my cheek. ¡°You haven¡¯t shaved,¡± she murmurs.


    ¡°No. I¡¯ve been asleep.¡±


    She rolls her eyes, but keeps exploring the side of my face. The way she¡¯s looking at me¡­ I could kill to keep her looking at me that way. I never want to lose it.


    ¡°I like it.¡± She bends to kiss me softly. ¡°And now I must be off.¡±


    Shorts are tugged up over those magnificent legs, a tank-top pulled on. I sigh and sit up. My t-shirt is draped over a chair in the corner, but my boxers are nowhere to be found. I grab a new pair from the drawer.


    ¡°Oliver?¡±¡±Yes?¡±


    ¡°You can sleep in, you know. It¡¯s very early.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not about to let you bike back down to town in the middle of the night alone.¡±


    She rolls her eyes again, tying her hair up. ¡°It¡¯s almost dawn.¡±


    ¡°Still.¡± I press a kiss to her temple and reach around to where my jeans hang. ¡°I¡¯m driving you home.¡±


    Austin¡¯s ws on the hardwood floor is the only sound in the dark house. It¡¯s as quiet as it always is, but it doesn¡¯t feel that empty anymore. Not with Lucy¡¯s hand in mine and her scent clinging to me.


    ¡°You¡¯re being silly,¡± she murmurs, but her voice is soft.


    I grab the keys to the truck. ¡°I¡¯m not. Are you worried someone might see us?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±¡±Well, then.¡±


    I pick up her bike and stow it in the back of my truck. The ranch is dead quiet, all the guests asleep and reception closed.


    Lucy puts her feet up on my dash and turns to look at me as I pull out. The road to Main Street is as familiar as the back of my hand.


    ¡°What are you thinking about?¡±


    I tap the steering wheel. ¡°That I wish you could have stayed all night.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Oliver.¡±


    I don¡¯t know what that means, or the soft sigh that follows, but I reach out and put a hand on her knee. The skin is distractingly soft beneath my palm. ¡°No regrets?¡±


    ¡°None.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±She¡¯s quiet again as her hand covers mine. I look over and see her furrowed brow, her tentative expression. I think she¡¯s about to ask me something-I just hope it¡¯s something I can answer.


    ¡°How well do you know Gavin Whittaker?¡±


    What?


    ¡°Better than I¡¯d like to. Why?¡±


    She looks out the window. ¡°You¡¯re not friends, then?¡±


    ¡°Hell, no. Why are you asking about him?¡± Of all people, she asks me about him¡­ What had made her think of Gavin? Now? His disgusting words at the pube back to me.


    ¡°Has he done something to you?¡±


    ¡°No. Well, yes, in a way. He came by the bakery yesterday.¡±


    My hand tightens around the wheel. ¡°Tell me what he said.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°Actually, it was awful, but I¡¯m used to it.¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡±


    ¡°He asked me if I epted clients from town, and if I¡­ if I gave any special services.¡± Thest two words are whispered, her tone dripping with disgust. ¡°I told him in no uncertain terms that I didn¡¯t. I¡¯m not sure he heard me.¡±


    For a wild moment, I see red. Anger, raw and palpable, pulse through my body. I need to hit something-that something being Gavin Whittaker¡¯s smug face.


    ¡°Oliver?¡±¡±I¡¯ll handle it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to handle it.¡± She¡¯s frowning when I nce over, eyes flickering from my face to my hand, still clutched too tight around the steering wheel. I force myself to rx. ¡°I told him I don¡¯t do that sort of thing, and that should be that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, maybe.¡± It won¡¯t, with him, though. The lesson Logan and I had tried to impart earlier had clearly gone right over his head. ¡°I¡¯ll take to him.¡±


    ¡°I want to handle it myself.¡±


    I force my breathing to calm, my anger to drain. ¡°Alright.¡±C¨°ntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    ¡°I just wanted to tell you. If he calls up to reception to book a treatment, I¡¯m not going to ept him as a client.¡± She looks determined. ¡°Therapist¡¯s prerogative.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll never set foot on the ranch.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±¡±You handled it well. But Lucy¡­ if he says anything else, if he even so much as looks your way-you let me know. I promise you that the second he crosses the line, I¡¯ll handle him. ¡±


    Her hand curls around mine. ¡°I will.¡±

 Chapter 46

    The urge to find Gavin and punch him doesn¡¯t leave me. Even worse is the idea of Lucy having to go through that kind of humiliation. This town is small, sure, but people have no excuse to be that small-minded.


    I¡¯d even warned him-the fucking ass-about propositioning her, and he¡¯d done it anyway. I should teach him a lesson, but I¡¯d promised Lucy that I¡¯d let her handle it on her own. Her high regard meant far more to me than Gavin¡¯s bloody nose. Hard as it is, I force myself to let it go and focus on work.


    When I head into the staff kitchenter that afternoon, I stop dead in my tracks. Logan and Sarah are sitting by the kitchen counter with a cup of tea each.


    What is happening to the world?


    Sarah¡¯s smile is wide. ¡°Look who dropped by!¡±


    Logan nods at me, but his eyes are exasperated. ¡°Hey, brother.¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    ¡°I came by to check up on those pipes by the eastern enclosure, but then, well-¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t let him just leave without a chat and a muffin.¡±


    ¡°Of course you couldn¡¯t.¡± My voice is dry. It just so happens that the staff kitchen is right next to the reception, and by extension, Mandy. Sarah¡¯s meddling knows no bounds.


    She pushes the tray to me. ¡°Come, have one.¡±


    ¡°They look great.¡± I grab a seat opposite them. ¡°So, tell me. What lecture did I interrupt?¡±


    My sister looks outraged, but Logan justughs. ¡°One I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard many times before.¡±


    Sarah shoots me a furious look, but I just shake my head at her. ¡°Come now, sis. We both know you mean well. Thank you for these, by the way. Pecans again?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And I just want you to be happy. Both of you.¡±


    Logan and I nod. A part of me thinks she¡¯s being unfair, but the truth is that I wasn¡¯t too hot the first year or two after deployment. It feels forever ago.


    Sarah smiles at Logan. ¡°You shoulde to the staff BBQ in a few weeks. It¡¯s going to be a lot of fun, you know.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps I will.¡±


    She puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles over at me. ¡°You look good today.¡±


    ¡°Thanks?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m heading out to pick up the girls. They¡¯re asking after you again, Ollie.¡±


    ¡°How about you bring them by this weekend? Sophia can practice riding again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do that. See youter, guys.¡±


    She leaves through the swing door to reception and it closes behind her with soft, swinging motions. Logan puts his head in his hands and I shake my head inmiseration.


    ¡°That bad, huh?¡±


    ¡°She offered to set me up with someone. Some ountant or something.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Sarah 101.¡±


    ¡°She even made me feel guilty for not epting. What the hell, man?¡±


    I grab two cans of beer from the fridge and hand him one. ¡°Just shake it off.¡±


    ¡°The worst part is that she¡¯s probably right.¡±


    ¡°I know. That¡¯s the worst part.¡±


    Logan takes a long sip and looks once, surreptitiously, over his shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s go outside.¡±


    I nod. The afternoon sunlight is warm, the ranch quiet and calm and the beer cold in my hand. For the first time in a very long while, I feelpletely at ease.


    ¡°So you didn¡¯t want to take her up on the offer?¡±


    ¡°Hell no. I¡¯m not going on any blind dates.¡± Logan rubs a hand over his neck, troubled. ¡°But maybe I should try to find¡­ I don¡¯t know. Shit, I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡±He looks away and takes a long swig of his beer. ¡°You know it¡¯s Mandy.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Did I ever, I thought drily.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to acknowledge what we once had. Won¡¯t give me a second chance, and I don¡¯t know¡­ I guess I don¡¯t me her. I sure as hell don¡¯t deserve one.¡±


    ¡°You do. We all do.¡± I say, and my voice is firm. If there¡¯s something I¡¯vee to realize these weeks, it¡¯s this. ¡°And it might not be with her, but it¡¯ll be with someone, Logan.¡±N?vel(D)rama.Org''s content.


    He runs a hand across his face. Despite his smile and glib manner, I can see the hollows under his eyes. They haven¡¯t gotten better. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Sure.¡±


    It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve pulled themander card. We¡¯re not in service anymore, and out here we¡¯re brothers-equals. But I do it now. The edge to my voice is familiar, reminiscent of old times and distant shores.


    ¡°Are you sleeping?¡±


    He nces up at me, and I can read his answer in his eyes. No.


    ¡°When did you finish yourst round of therapy?¡±


    ¡°Over a year ago,¡± he replies.


    ¡°There¡¯s someone over in Acton. He¡¯s specialized in veterans.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s over an hour¡¯s drive away.¡±


    ¡°So? You¡¯ve endured worse.¡± I run a hand through my hair and say what I¡¯ve been hiding from for years. ¡°I¡¯ll visit him again, too.¡±


    Logan sighs, but this time it¡¯s in resignation. Hardened eyes meet mine and I can see the resolution there. ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll call him tomorrow.¡±

 Chapter 47

    The silence spreads between us, but it¡¯sfortable now.


    There-I¡¯ve said it. The thought I hadn¡¯t uttered in a long, long while. That maybe, just maybe, the months of adjustment haven¡¯t been enough. That the PTSD is better, but not gone.


    I need to ask for help.


    I¡¯ll conquer it like I¡¯ve conquered so many other things before.


    Logan takes a deep sip beside me, leaning against the wall. His strength and familiarity areforting. ¡°I need your help in a week or two,¡± I tell him.


    ¡°Whatever you need.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to build a sauna out by the spa. I¡¯ve ordered the heating unit and the istion material, so it should be here soon.¡±


    ¡°Expanding the spa section, are we?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But the girls don¡¯t know yet, and they don¡¯t need to.¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Logan¡¯s smile is sly, and I shake my head at him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get any ideas.¡±


    ¡°Me? I won¡¯t. Only, you look like you¡¯ve gottenid, man.¡±


    I shove him, hard. He topples over but manages to save himself with a hand on the wall. His smile broadens and I can¡¯t help but grin back at him.


    ¡°What, do you have a fucking radar or something?¡±


    ¡°Nah, I just know you well.¡±


    We fall into afortable silence. I close my eyes and take another sip of the beer, reveling in the sunshine.


    ¡°There¡¯s something else.¡±¡±Oh?¡±


    ¡°You know how you said Gavin Whittaker was making it hard for you to get work? We¡¯re going to take care of that.¡±


    I can hear the satisfied hunger in Logan¡¯s voice when he replies.


    ¡°Finally.¡±


    ¡°Did you fix my bike?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±I grin. ¡°I know you heard me.¡±


    Oliver throws two bags of popcorn into the microwave and sets the timer for three minutes. Austin is sitting patiently at his feet, hoping to catch any food that his owner might drop. Oliver looks down and shakes his head.


    ¡°You can¡¯t eat corn kernels, and you can¡¯t eat stic.¡±


    Austin¡¯s tail wags hopefully.


    ¡°Idiot,¡± Oliver murmurs, but he bends down to scratch his pup behind his ear.


    I don¡¯t give up. ¡°The rust is gone, the chain is newly oiled and the tires are pumped. Plus, I swear there are new lights fixed in the front.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t safe before.¡±


    ¡°Mmm.¡± I reach up and run a hand over the back of his neck, sliding my fingers into his hair. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    He nces down at me, his dark blue eyes soft. A corresponding warmth blooms in my chest. It¡¯s not often I¡¯ve seen him like this. His strong features arepletely rxed. I wish he could be like this all the time. I wish I could heal his mind the way I could massage a sore shoulder, to remove whatever darkness or pain he is carrying. The most I could hope for was getting him to share.


    Since the fair, I¡¯d read up on PTSD. It¡¯s an unpredictable diagnosis, it takes different shapes in different people, and it often made individuals withdraw from their loved ones and close friends. Quite against their needs and wants, it seemed.


    I jump up on the stool by the kitchen counter. ¡°There¡¯s a basketball hoop behind the house. Do you y?¡±


    ¡°I used to, yes. I yed a lot in high school.¡±


    Sarah mentioned something about this-her star athlete of a brother-though I know Oliver would never describe himself such. ¡°Not anymore?¡±


    ¡°There aren¡¯t really enough guys around here to pull together a team for a scrimmage,¡± he says. His hands pause over the handle to the fridge as if he¡¯s deliberating. ¡°We yed a lot when I served, too.¡±


    ¡°You did?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Most days, the Marines aren¡¯t in activebat. We¡¯re stationed in different locations to do reconnaissance, patrol, survey.¡± He shrugs. ¡°A lot of afternoons were spent on the basketball court.¡±


    I smile and grab the bottle of ice tea. ¡°Logan too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but he prefers ser, the heathen.¡±


    But Oliver had been in battle, at some point or another. I don¡¯t ask the follow-up questions I want to. If he wanted to talk, he would.


    We grab our snacks and head into his living room. Oliver¡¯s couch is massive, but he lifts up an arm and I curl against his side. He¡¯s big and warm, solid to the touch.


    He turns on a movie. It¡¯s what we nned for tonight, but I¡¯m pretty sure neither of us is watching. How could I care about the fate of an alien when he¡¯s this close? I have my hand on his chest and I can feel it rise and fall steadily with his slow breath.


    His hand traces up and down my arm.


    ¡°You did physical therapy, right?¡±


    He nces down at me. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Remember that you asked me if I¡¯d ever considered bing a physical therapist?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±I take a deep breath. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve found some courses.¡±¡±Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I nod. ¡°I feel like it would suit me perfectly. I could still massage, of course, but I¡¯d be able to help with deeper issues too.¡±


    ¡°You should go for it,¡± he says and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. ¡°How long is the training?¡±


    ¡°About four years.¡± His hand stills on my arm. ¡°I¡¯ve found online courses. I mean, I know things are early with the spa, but I wouldn¡¯t want to stop working.¡±

 Chapter 48

    He¡¯s quiet for a beat before he pulls me closer. ¡°I¡¯m d.¡±


    I wake to frantic movement beside me in the bed.


    Oliver is thrashing, theforter pulled tight. He¡¯s groaning in his sleep as if in pain. I mber onto my knees and put a hand on his shoulder. It¡¯s taut and sweaty under my hand.


    ¡°Oliver?¡±¡±No,¡± he murmurs, body going tense. ¡°No¡­¡±


    ¡°Oliver!¡± I grasp both his shoulders. His eyes are roaming beneath his eyelids and his hair sticks to his forehead. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening, but I know I need to get him out of this. His skin is mmy to the touch.


    ¡°Come on, wake up.¡± I smooth back his hair. ¡°You¡¯re dreaming. You¡¯re ok. You need to wake up now.¡±


    Blue eyes blink open. For a moment, he just stares at me, unseeing, and then I¡¯m flipped over onto my back. Oliver covers mepletely. His hand is on my shoulder, pinning me in ce. His eyes are wide with terror and confusion.


    ¡°Oliver?¡±He blinks again and then he¡¯s off me, getting out of bed. ¡°Shit. Shit.¡± He runs a hand through his hair and strides across his bedroom, disappearing into the bathroom. A heartbeatter I hear the shower running.


    My heart is pounding from the little interlude. I¡¯ve never seen evidence of his nightmares before.


    What do I do now? Do I leave him alone? The sheets on his side are a wild tangle, and theforter is tossed aside. I get up and quietly re-make the bed.


    The shower keeps running in the bathroom, but he hasn¡¯t shut the door. I sigh and put my hands on my hips. Think, Lucy. The websites I read didn¡¯t say you should let your loved ones with PTSD pull away. Respect their boundaries, yes, but not pull away.


    I¡¯m not afraid of Oliver.


    For him, yes, but not of him. If he pushes me away, it won¡¯t be personal. But if he doesn¡¯t¡­ well, I want to be there for him, in any way I can.


    The decision made, I square my shoulders and open the door to the bathroom.


    He¡¯s in the shower with his hands braced against the wall. Water runs in rivulets down his wide shoulders and the grooves of his muscled back.


    I shimmy my panties down. I don¡¯t want to startle him, so I slide the shower door open and make sure it¡¯s loud. Oliver doesn¡¯t turn around.


    I wrap my arms around him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as if he¡¯s been running, and the water sends goosebumps across my skin.


    He¡¯s showering with ice water.


    I reach for the dial and turn the heat up. Oliver doesn¡¯t in any way acknowledge that I¡¯m there, but I keep my arms around him. Maybe if I just stand here and remind him that he¡¯s not alone. I rest my cheek against his back and take deep, calming breaths. We stand like that for a long time.


    His hand finally covers mine where it rests on his abs.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±I press a kiss to the skin of his back. ¡°Anytime.¡±


    He takes a deep breath before he turns around. Tentative hands find my shoulders and reverent fingers curl around my arm. He traces my shoulder, right where he held me earlier. I can feel his heartbeat against my own.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±I nod. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t look convinced, ncing back down to my shoulder. I stretch up on my tiptoes and put a hand on his cheek. It¡¯s already rough with stubble. ¡°You didn¡¯t hurt me.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± he says. He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine.


    We stand there, for what might be a minute or an hour, holding one another under the hot water. It takes time, but his frantic heartbeat eventually slows.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he murmurs against my lips.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to apologize for.¡±


    Oliver pulls me closer until every inch of our bodies are touching. I can feel the scarred skin on his shoulder under my hand. He sweeps my hair back to press a kiss to my neck.


    ¡°You¡¯re okay,¡± I whisper under the warm water. ¡°We¡¯re okay.¡±


    I¡¯m not sure he hears me.


    I send the final email and lean back, smiling. Logan will have no difficulty getting work now. I had promised Lucy that I would let her handle Gavin, but that didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t support my friend. If that meant I¡¯d also piss off Gavin, well¡­ some things just couldn¡¯t be helped.


    My name carried clout here, even if I didn¡¯t always like being reminded of that. Rmending Logan¡¯s business to all of my suppliers meant something. So did the fact that Logan was offering a quicker turn-around and lower prices than Whittaker Instations.N?vel(D)rama.Org''s content.


    It didn¡¯t hurt that Logan had made an anonymous call to the State Department of Fire and Electrical Safety about Whittaker¡¯s habit of undertaking unlicensed electrical work.


    Don¡¯t get mad, get even.


    I close myptop and walk to my office window. It¡¯s a position I¡¯m getting more than a little used to these days, spying across the ranch towards the red roof of the spa. Today, I look for her with more than a little unease.


    She¡¯d woken me up from a nightmare and I¡¯d pinned her down. It didn¡¯t matter if she said she was okay, or that I didn¡¯t hurt her, or that it was only for a second. Behavior like that couldn¡¯t happen again. I¡¯d been so ashamed, so angry at myself, but she had acted like it was nothing at all. Like she understood-like she saw me.


    She didn¡¯t know who I¡¯d been before. She wasn¡¯t intimidated by my family history or obsessed with the legacy of my father, or my grandfather before him.


    She wasn¡¯tparing me-not to them and not to who I had been before.


    She listened when I spoke, heard what I said, and reflected on it. There didn¡¯t seem to be any expectations where she was concerned. She was also silly as hell, saying whatever came to her mind without fear. There was a confidence to that that I admired. Not to mention that Iughed more around her than I remembered doing in years.


    Lucy sure as hell deserved better than me, but I would be damned if I gave up without a fight. I¡¯d try, and most likely fail, to live up to the man she deserved. To sort myself out. And if it failed, this thing with her¡­ well, at least I¡¯d be a better brother, a better boss, and a better uncle for it.


    After her ss is done, I walk the familiar gravel path down to the spa. It¡¯s been used more these weeks than it had for years before her arrival. Austin darts ahead, but I whistle for him. ¡°In here, buddy. Stables first.¡±


    Lucy cares about us being a secret, at least for now, and I can¡¯t agree more. Being questioned about my intentions by every busybody¡­ by Sarah¡­ I shudder. I don¡¯t want the poking and prodding that people here excel at. So I take the long route through the stables. I greet Whiskey with a sugar cube and scratch Ginger behind the ears. Tim is unloading a new bale of hay and gives me a wave.


    When I finally make it to the spa, the back door is wide open. Upbeat pop music flows from the stereo and I see Lucy dancing as she cleans off the floor in her yoga studio. Her ponytail bobs in time with the beat.


    She pauses when she sees me, mid-headshake. Her smile turns sheepish. ¡°How much of that did you see?¡±


    ¡°Not nearly as much as I wanted to.¡±


    She groans. ¡°At least it was a dazzling performance. I-No! Austin, not in here!¡±


    I block the door with my knee. ¡°Out.¡±


    Austin looks up at me for a few seconds. His dark eyes are imploring, begging me to change my mind, before he slinks back. He lies down at the foot of the stairs with a sigh.


    ¡°Sorry, but I just cleaned.¡±

 Chapter 49

    ¡°You¡¯re right, he has no business in here. Unlike me¡­¡± I pull the door shut behind me and reach for her. She smells like some sort of herb, all lemony and fresh and sweet.


    Lucy smiles up at me and it¡¯s the best antidote to my troubles. All thoughts of Gavin, of my nightmare and my hand on her shoulder, all of it just disappears.


    I run a hand between her shoulder-des. ¡°Who massages the masseuse?¡±


    She sighs against my neck. ¡°No one, that¡¯s who.¡±


    I motion for her to turn around and put my hands on her shoulders. They lookrge and rough against her soft neck. Gently, I knead my thumbs into her muscles.


    Lucy sighs again. ¡°God, you¡¯re good.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I should fire you,¡± I say. ¡°I could probably run this spa myself.¡±


    Herughter is husky. ¡°I¡¯d love to see you try.¡±


    I pull her closer and move my hands to her front. ¡°Don¡¯t you think I can? One hot stone here¡­¡± I smooth past her breast. ¡°Another here. And then one here¡­¡±


    She keels over,ughing. ¡°Oliver!¡±


    I catch her around the waist again and smile against her lips. ¡°It¡¯s not a bad idea.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I should try it on you sometime.¡±


    ¡°Mmm.¡±


    We don¡¯t talk for a good long while after that. She finally pulls away with a small sigh, her lips swollen from my kisses, and rests her head against my shoulder. She ys with the buttons on my shirt. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±Afterst night, I mean. We can talk about it if you want, or we can ignore it entirely. I¡¯m here for you.¡±


    I¡¯m here for you, like you are for someone who¡¯s sick. I swallow and school my features into a neutral expression. I know I needed help. Why was it still so hard to hear?


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I say against her hair. ¡°Let¡¯s not talk about it for now.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± She pulls away and smiles again, the megawatt smile that made me feel like I was staring into the sun. ¡°I¡¯ve had another great idea.¡±


    ¡°You have?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Your staff does a lot of manualbor. Pulling, lifting, standing¡­ that sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they do.¡±


    ¡°And I know you offer health insurance, as an employer. But I was thinking¡­ what if staff massage therapy sessions were included? Once a quarter or something? I¡¯m not a chiropractor but I could work on tense muscles, see if postures need to be corrected. It¡¯s important, especially when lifting and carrying stuff. It might reduce injuries.¡±


    Her eyes are alight with excitement.


    The image in my mind is terrible. I see Jack and Tim inside that small room of hers, und with only a towel across their waists¡­ her hands on them, the oil and the burning oils. Hell no.


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±Yes!¡± Her hands flit about, she¡¯s so excited. ¡°Lots of bigpanies do it. It could keep them in better physical condition in the long run, too, and reduce sick days. Happier employees mean a happier boss. Win-win.¡±


    I shake my head. ¡°Yeah, no, that¡¯s not happening.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? Would the expense be too much, do you think?¡±


    ¡°Lucy, no way in hell are my farmhands going to be nude in here. Absolutely not. Good initiative, though.¡± I run a hand through my hair. What was she thinking? Gavin¡¯s words, all those weeks ago at the pub, came back to me with a vengeance. Jack¡¯s older brother had been at that table. He hadn¡¯t participated, but still¡­ We weren¡¯t taking any risks.


    Lucy is just staring at me. Her face is perfectly neutral, but her eyes look unlike anything I¡¯d seen before. She looks crushed.


    Shit.¡±Luce, I didn¡¯t mean that¡­ I¡¯m sure you¡¯d be able to help them. But the answer¡¯s still no.¡±


    I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s thinking, and it isn¡¯t until she takes a small step away from me that I realize she¡¯s not disappointed.


    She¡¯s furious.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you.¡±


    ¡°Lucy, you have to see that it¡¯s not going to work. I¡¯m not about to let-¡±


    ¡°Let? I¡¯m so stupid. I actually thought you were different, but you¡¯re just like everyone else here. Judgmental.¡±


    I cross my arms. ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not? Then why don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a good idea for me to treat the male staff? Go on. Say it to my face, I dare you.¡± Angry tears flood her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s worse. How angry I am at you, or how disappointed I am.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re overreacting. Lucy, it¡¯s just not-¡± I break off. She¡¯s right.


    To articte what I¡¯m thinking would be to offend her. Fuck. I stare at her, unable to think of a single thing to say to make this better. My mind has gone nk.


    The silence stretches on between us.


    She grabs her bag. ¡°Fine. Thank you for this enlightening discussion, Oliver. Good to know what you really think of me.¡±


    The door to the spa ms behind her as she walks out.


    I don¡¯t follow.


    The bike ride back to town is miserable. The wind on my face is enough to keep any tears from falling, but as soon as I reach the bakery the facade cracks. I can¡¯t let my aunt and uncle see me like this; one look and they¡¯ll ask me what¡¯s wrong.


    I head to Ricky¡¯s instead and order arge ice tea. It¡¯s not even three in the afternoon yet, and the town is quiet. I look out the window at the broad sidewalk and the trees that shade Main Street. There¡¯s not a person in sight.


    I wish I had someone to talk to.


    I wish I still had my old friends, in my old apartment, in my old life.Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    I take a sip of the sweet, cold drink and sigh. I can wish all I want and it still won¡¯t change a thing. Besides, even if I miss thefort of that life, it was built on sand.


    The thought of Oliver hurts. I thought we¡¯d gotten somewhere together, that he¡¯d opened up with me. That we¡¯d gotten closer to something real. I felt like he had seen me, the real me, in a way that no one really ever had.


    I was wrong, though. It seemed like he didn¡¯t really know me at all. I could still see the refusal in his eyes and hear his astonishedughter.

 Chapter 50

    Absolutely not, Lucy.


    His voice had been hard.


    The thought of my farmhands on that table? No.


    I take another sip of my drink and try to stop the feeling of helplessness from welling up. It seems like everyone is determined to see my profession as something untoward, something dirty. But what Oliver had insinuated was wrong-and I knew it. I¡¯d never given a happy ending in my life and I wasn¡¯t about to start now.


    I¡¯ll make him see that, too. And if he didn¡¯t trust me?


    Well, that was his problem.


    I nod to myself. You got this, Lucy. I¡¯m not going to run from this ce. I have family here, and I have friends. Sarah, and Mandy. Tim and Jack.


    Oliver doesn¡¯t have to like me. Hell, he doesn¡¯t even have to trust me. He just has to let me do my job to the very best of my ability. All I need is to save enough money so I can afford the physical therapy sses, and then I can open up my own clinic. It is years away, sure, but the goal gives me something to work towards.


    A future and a purpose.


    I drum my fingers against the stic tablecloth. I need to make some roots here, and I want to talk to someone. I shoot Mandy a quick text.


    Her reply is nearly instant. Not a lot to do in reception today, it seems. I¡¯m down!


    Fantastic. I smile and slip out of the booth. Lucy Rhodes 2. 0 suffered a minor setback, yes, but she isn¡¯t gone. I have a goal, I have a purpose, and it doesn¡¯t matter if an attractive, brooding, charming ranch-owner doesn¡¯t believe in me.


    I believe in me.


    ¡°There¡¯s really only one ce in remont for drinks?¡±


    ¡°On a Thursday night? Yes.¡± Mandy smiles and slips her hand under my arm. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, though. If it¡¯s boring, we can go back to my ce and have a drink there. Watch TV, y some games¡­¡±


    I nce down at my kitten heels, ufortable despite the barely-there heel. I¡¯ve always been a sucker forfort. ¡°Ugh. Don¡¯t tempt me.¡±


    ¡°You look great, by the way. Perfectly remont-evening appropriate.¡±


    ¡°Is that a specific style?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes.¡± She pauses on the sidewalk and cocks her hip. ¡°We¡¯re modelingidback chic, the autumn collection.¡±


    I grin at her. ¡°Mn and Paris better watch out.¡±


    Her long hair is up in a ponytail and she¡¯s wearing the cutest tunic dress. I know for a fact, though, that she has a camera in her crossbody bag. I¡¯d found that she brought it everywhere. She said she never knew when the opportunity for a great picture might strike.


    Mandy tugs lightly at a strand of my hair. ¡°I¡¯m d we¡¯re doing this.¡±


    ¡°Me too. Why haven¡¯t we gone out earlier?¡±


    ¡°Right? Honestly, what¡¯s our excuse?¡±


    ¡°Laziness,¡± I suggest.


    ¡°Ack of imagination?¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing we¡¯re working on our vices tonight.¡±


    Mandy nods, pretending to be serious. ¡°My mother would be so proud.¡±


    The door to the Red g is wide open and the bartender nods hello as we enter. Mandy waves back, a smile on her face. Even if she¡¯s fairly new to this ce, it¡¯s clear that she¡¯s been here a lot longer than me.


    ¡°Let¡¯s grab one of the tables in the back.¡±


    We order a ss of wine each and sink into a booth. There are considerably more people here than I expected. A group of men cheer loudly at a sports game in the corner. An elderly couple in the booth next to us are sharing a tter of nachos, holding hands across the table.


    ¡°Is this where the town goes after Ricky¡¯s is closed?¡±


    Mandy takes a sip of her wine. ¡°Pretty much, yeah.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the great remont migration,¡± I muse. ¡°From the bakery in the morning to the diner at lunch and finally to the pub in the evening.¡±


    Mandy grins. ¡°Thinking about shooting a nature documentary?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t have a fancy English ent for the narration.¡± I sigh, disappointed. ¡°No awards for me.¡±


    ¡°When¡¯s the next yoga ss?¡±


    ¡°On Saturday. Will you be there?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely. My body has gotten used to all those downward dogs now,¡± she says, pretending to stretch. ¡°It¡¯s be like a drug. I need my fix.¡±


    I chuckle. ¡°Working out is like that.¡±


    ¡°Do you still like your job up at the ranch?¡±


    ¡°God, yes. It¡¯s almost a stupidly beautiful ce to work, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Mandy grins. ¡°Yes. I bring my camera to work every day. Sometimes I¡¯m there long before reception opens, just to photograph the sunrise. It¡¯s unreal when it rises over the meadows.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever thought of working as a wedding photographer?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not¡­. I couldn¡¯t.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°I don¡¯t have any formal training.¡±


    ¡°So? There are a ton of weddings at the ranch this summer, and it would be a great chance to practice.¡±


    ¡°Well, as ideas go, it¡¯s not terrible,¡± she says. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely, and when you¡¯re ready, go talk to Sarah. She¡¯ll love it!¡±


    Mandyughs and touches her ss to mine. ¡°Fine, boss, I will.¡±


    It doesn¡¯t take long until she asks me about our actual boss. I suspected she had an inkling about us-much like Sarah-and for the first time, I¡¯m happy to talk about it. I want to.

 Chapter 51

    So¡­ you and Oliver, huh?¡±


    I take a strengthening sip of my wine. ¡°Yes. It¡¯splicated, though.¡±


    ¡°What isn¡¯t in life?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I say, ying with the foot of my wine ss. ¡°We had an argument today. It¡¯s silly, really, but¡­ I¡¯m still angry.¡±


    She nods. ¡°It takes time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I think we just need to talk it out, if that¡¯s something he¡¯s willing to do.¡±


    Mandy¡¯s smile turns crooked. ¡°They¡¯re not always the best at talking, are they?¡±


    I get the feeling she¡¯s not just referring to Oliver. ¡°No, they¡¯re not.¡±


    By our second ss of wine, Mandy and I have decided that I¡¯m going to teach her how to ride, that she¡¯s going to take professional photos of the spa studio, and that we¡¯re going to institute regr movie nights.


    ¡°Can you really smell fresh bread and cookies all the way up to your studio?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±She leans forward. ¡°Do you have ess to the bakery all the times?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Can you eat Rhodes cookies whenever you want?¡±


    Iugh at the expression on her face. ¡°Well, no. Most of it is for sale, and besides, if I ate as much as I¡­ What?¡±


    Mandy isn¡¯t looking at me and I follow her gaze to the front door.


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Tonight of all nights, huh?¡±


    ¡°They just had to.¡±


    We watch in silence as Logan and Oliver head to the bar. They¡¯re tall, imposing figures in the dimly lit space. I see Oliver nodding at the bartender, but Logan says nothing, hands shoved in his pockets. Both of the men scan the bar, their eyes darting over booths and corners. Surveying their surroundings.


    They see us at the same time.


    Mandy leans closer t me. ¡°They¡¯re going toe over.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Do you want them to sit with us?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±¡±Me neither.¡±


    That¡¯s all the discussion we have time for because two former Marines are heading straight our way. Oliver¡¯s eyes are neutral and unreadable, and I have no idea what he¡¯s thinking. Does he regret what happened earlier? Anger is still alive, burning like acid in my stomach. I believe in me, I repeat to myself.


    Logan and Oliver stop by our table, shoulder to shoulder. Oliver¡¯s blue gaze flicks between me and Mandy. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you two were going out tonight.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know you were, either.¡±


    Logan shoots me a small, crooked smile. ¡°Spur of the moment.¡±


    I smile back at him-because I¡¯m not angry at him-but his attention inevitably drifts back to Mandy. Her fingers are moving rapidly around the base of her winess.


    ¡°How are you?¡±


    She nods. ¡°I¡¯m good. Really good.¡±


    Oliver takes a small step closer to my side of the booth. ¡°We need to talk.¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    ¡°We do.¡±


    He nods to the front door. ¡°Let¡¯s.¡±


    I cross my arms. ¡°Not right now. I¡¯m with Mandy and we haven¡¯t finished our drinks yet.¡±


    She¡¯s still talking to Logan, but I can see that her jaw is tight. I don¡¯t know what happened between them, but regardless, she told me that she didn¡¯t want them to join us. I¡¯m not about to ditch a friend.


    Oliver lets out a breath. The control is costing him-I can see it in his eyes. ¡°Fine,¡± he says. ¡°We¡¯ll be close by.¡±


    Logan¡¯s voice is soft when he says goodbye to Mandy. ¡°Have a nice night.¡±


    ¡°You too.¡±


    Practically every eye in the bar follows them as they take a seat in the booth across from ours. They¡¯re too far to be able to hear what we say, but close enough to keep an eye on us.


    I roll my eyes. ¡°So overbearing.¡±


    Mandy nods. ¡°God, yes. The worst.¡±


    ¡°Are you alright?¡±¡±Yes. It¡¯s just¡­ Logan and I have history.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve gathered.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long time ago, and it¡¯s in the past,¡± she says, her voice firm. ¡°I¡¯m not starting that up again. I¡­ I can¡¯t. But at the same time, I don¡¯t feel like he¡¯s letting me move on.¡±


    ¡°Have you told him that?¡±


    She stares up at the ceiling. ¡°Yes, many times. I hate that I hurt him every time I make that clear. It¡¯splicated.¡±


    I reach out and put a hand over hers. ¡°We can leave if you¡¯d like. Truly. I do have cookies at home, and I¡¯m sure we can find a bottle of wine, too. Get an early start on our promised movie nights.¡±


    Her smile is warm. ¡°Thank you, Luce. But we can¡¯t let them win.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± I raise my ss to hers again. ¡°This is our town too.¡±


    She touches it to mine. ¡°And we¡¯re strong, independent women.¡±

 Chapter 52

    We carry on with the rest of our evening as if the two men sneaking nces at us from across the room don¡¯t exist. I almost manage to forget about the two dark blue eyes boring a hole in the back of my head. We¡¯re discussing whether we should get another round of drinks when someone sidles up to our table.


    Again?


    I look up, ready to take the fight, only to be struck silent.


    ¡°Hello, girls.¡± Gavin¡¯s smile is sly.


    ¡°Hi.¡±He leans against the booth, blocking my view of Oliver and Logan. Don¡¯te over, don¡¯te over.


    ¡°Is this your first time here?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±Care if I join you?¡±


    I open my mouth to respond, but Mandy cuts me off. ¡°We¡¯re enjoying a girls night out, actually. But thank you.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to interrupt that, now would I?¡± He bends down towards me with a small smile. ¡°I trust you haven¡¯t forgotten about my offer?¡±


    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t, which is why I¡¯d like you to leave.¡±


    He straightens with a scowl, like he didn¡¯t actually believe me the first time. Well, hear me loud and clear, buddy. Not going to happen.


    ¡°Now, listen here sweetheart, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re-¡±


    But Gavin¡¯s luck has run out. Oliver and Logan have moved like silent shadows, appearing suddenly on either side of him. They¡¯re not smiling.


    Oliver ces a hand gently on Gavin¡¯s shoulder, but there¡¯s menace in that light touch. ¡°Are you bothering thesedies, Whittaker?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡±


    The tension is already high and getting higher by the second. We need to defuse this somehow. ¡°We were having a chat, but Gavin was just leaving. Isn¡¯t that right, Gavin?¡±


    His eyes are sour as he ducks out from under Oliver¡¯s grip. ¡°Yes. Good evening,dies.¡±


    ¡°See that you don¡¯t return,¡± Logan says.


    Oliver and Logan stand, side by side, and watch as Gavin disappears towards the exit. Oliver¡¯s fist is clenched. The tension is clear in his shoulders and evident in every line of his tall frame.


    He turns grave, blue eyes on me. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Thank you.¡±


    Suddenly, I¡¯m not angry anymore. I¡¯m tired. I¡¯m tired of thinking about our fight and of misunderstandings. I want to clear the air between us, and I want to be in his arms again.


    Mandy is giving me a faint smile. ¡°Do you want to¡­?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Is that okay?¡±


    She grabs her bag. ¡°Of course. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    We scoot out of the booth. The guys watch us, silently.


    ¡°Heading out?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±Oliver and Logan escort us to the exit without another word. Logan holds the door for us and we emerge out onto the warm sidewalk. It¡¯s gotten dark and the moon hangs like antern in the sky.


    ¡°This was fun,¡± I tell Mandy. ¡°Thanks foring out.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll do it again sometime?¡±


    ¡°Definitely. Maybe somewhere quieter next time?¡±


    ¡°Sounds perfect,¡± she says and nods towards the parking lot. ¡°Do you want a lift home?¡±


    ¡°Thank you, but I live so close, I¡¯ll walk.¡±


    Oliver clears his throat. ¡°I¡¯ll walk you home.¡±


    Mandy shoots me a look of mixed exasperation and encouragement. ¡°Good luck,¡± she murmurs as we hug goodbye.


    ¡°You too.¡±I wave goodbye to Logan and he gives me a faint nod. For the first time since I¡¯ve met him, he looks almost nervous.


    It seems like we all got a bit more than we bargained for tonight.


    Oliver and I start to walk slowly along Main Street, both of us silent. It¡¯s deserted at this hour, and the oak trees lining the street sway gently in the breeze.


    ¡°Are you cold?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m good.¡±This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    His jaw is tense, his gaze focused on a point on the horizon. He might have been the one to suggest that we talk, but I doubt he¡¯ll be the one to start.


    I don¡¯t know how to start either. It¡¯s important to me that he understands and respects what I do for a living. Too many people in my life have made the wrong assumptions and I couldn¡¯t handle it if he bes one of them, too.


    He reaches for my hand. It¡¯s warm and rough, his fingers twining easily through my own. ¡°I was wrong earlier.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±Yes. Thest thing I meant to imply was¡­ that. I¡¯m not like him.¡±


    Gavin¡¯s slimy smile is forever burned into my mind. ¡°I know you¡¯re not, Oliver.¡±


    ¡°My reaction was jealousy, pure and simple. Not exactly noble.¡± He runs his free hand through his hair, mussing it up. ¡°But I trust you. You¡¯re great at your job, and you¡¯re the single most¡­¡± he shakes his head, lost in thought. ¡°You¡¯re professional and good, through and through.¡±


    Oliver stops and presses a kiss to the back of my hand. Determination glows in his eyes and words spill out of him like a confession. ¡°I¡¯m going to fuck up. I¡¯m going to fuck up a lot, Lucy. But I promise to try to be better. I¡¯m working on myself and on being better.¡±


    ¡°Oliver¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say.¡±


    He cups my cheek with a rough hand, tilting my head back. The storm in his eyes isn¡¯t gone, but it¡¯s settled. Quieted, somehow.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give up on me yet, Lucy.¡±

 Chapter 53

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.


    He nods, once, as if he hears my words but doesn¡¯t really believe me. ¡°We can¡¯t do what we did today.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Argue and then run away. The next time we fight, we have to talk it through. No more repeats of this not-talking thing.¡±


    I bite my lip. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m including myself in that, you know. After we slept together the first time and I pulled away.¡±


    ¡°I know. We¡¯ll be better.¡±


    He wraps strong arms around me and tugs me back against my favorite ce in the world. His chest is hard against my cheek, his skin warm even through his shirt. He smells amazing-like leather and ranch and man. I hope he never lets go.


    ¡°Ass,¡± I murmur, but there¡¯sughter in my voice.


    He smiles against my hair. ¡°Thank you for reminding me when I¡¯m out of line.¡±


    Despite his soft words, there¡¯s relief in his voice. I wish I felt the same, but I have things to exin, too. There are things in my past that I haven¡¯t shared with anyone in remont, a past I sought to bury. But maybe¡­ maybe I can tell Oliver. Maybe I need to if I¡¯m ever to get true closure.


    A person can only flee for so long.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I reacted so strongly earlier. There¡¯s a reason for that, actually.¡± I take a deep breath. ¡°Can I tell you about myst job?¡±


    Her eyes arerge as she stares up at me. Lucy¡¯s nervous about this, about whatever it is she wants to talk about. My heart squeezes in my chest again.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go to yours,¡± I say, wrapping my arm around her waist. I want to make the hollow-eyed look in her eyes disappear. We walk to the bakery in silence. I get the feeling that she¡¯s preparing herself.


    The words spill out, one after one, up there in her studio. I pull her against me and listen as she tells me about her old life.


    ¡°It was a great spa. One of the biggest in Das, actually. We were regrly featured in major national magazines. There were meditation experts, physical therapists, dermatologists, acupuncturists¡­ everything.¡±


    I shudder involuntarily at thest one she lists, and she shoots me a small smile.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as painful as it seems.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure, but I¡¯ll still pass.¡±


    ¡°I worked as a masseuse. We were arge team, and we were pretty close for co-workers. I thought we were friends, actually. One day, a VIP client came in. He¡¯d been a patron of the spa for ages. Fancyst name and all that. He had booked an eighty-minute massage, and halfway through he¡­¡± she trails off and swallows, staring out into the distance. ¡°He asked me for more. In no uncertain terms, I should add. I said no, but he just kind ofughed and told me that I wouldn¡¯tst long at the spa if that was my attitude.¡±


    Hot anger shes through me. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I finished the massage, without anything extra. He left, andter that day I went directly to my supervising boss. I told her everything.¡± Lucy¡¯s eyes turn hard. ¡°He¡¯d already spoken to her. He told her that I was the one who had propositioned him and asked for payment in exchange for, well, finishing him off. She gave me until the end of the day to pack up my stuff.¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t believe you?¡±


    Lucy shakes her head. ¡°No. I asked my co-workers to vouch for me, but it turned out that a few of the girls had taken him up on the offer. He paid well. He was a patron of the spa. It was my word against his. Maybe my boss knew, and she just didn¡¯t want to say anything. I¡¯ll never know.¡± Her hands are sped tight in herp as she finishes, eyes meeting mine. ¡°I didn¡¯t get any rmendations. Two years, I worked there, and I was let go in one day-just like that.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you came to remont?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I couldn¡¯t get a job in Das after that. It¡¯s a small industry, and rumors spread.¡±


    Lucy is curved inwards, her shoulders sloping, and I hate to see her that way. Her story is like one of my worst nightmares. I can see her there, in that room, standing her ground against the rich fuck who tried to exploit a young massage therapist.


    She stood up for herself-she ran away. I understand her impulses perfectly. The desire to start her own spa, to get away from the big city. The importance of handling Gavin herself.


    I pull her closer. Her cheek rests against my shoulder and soft hair tickles my chin. She¡¯s strong, this one. Sweeping into remont like a golden whirlwind, with smiles andughter for everyone, despite running from something as dark as this.


    Her finger traces the cor of my shirt. ¡°Remember when you asked me if I¡¯de work for you? And I asked if you wanted references?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±I was so happy when you said no.¡±


    I press a kiss to her temple. ¡°You could have told me. I would have understood.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t risk it,¡± she said softly. ¡°What if you didn¡¯t believe my side of the story? So many others didn¡¯t.¡±


    I tilt her head to meet my gaze. She¡¯s never been more beautiful to me than she is in this moment. She¡¯s offered me a piece of her past, hoping I¡¯d be strong enough to carry it along with her. The trust she has in me is dazzling.


    I kiss her, my lips moving softly over hers. ¡°Then they¡¯re fools, and they don¡¯t deserve you.¡±


    The ranch is dark and quiet when I drive back home much, muchter. Austin is overjoyed that I¡¯m home, weaving between my legs. He knows better than to jump, but I can see that his body is itching to.


    ¡°Missed me, buddy?¡±


    He gives a low whine and rubs his head against my hand. I scratch his soft fur and sigh. What a night. Lucy had gotten deep, deep below my skin, and I wasn¡¯t sure I ever wanted her to leave.


    The following days are busy. Sarah is in prime DIY mode, preparing wreaths, styling bouquets, spray-painting seashells¡­ the list goes on. The first wedding of the season is right around the corner, and while it isn¡¯t a particrly big one, we have to make it memorable.


    I¡¯m even pulled into helping Sarah prepare more of the little vases that only fit one flower. We¡¯re not even putting flowers in them this time, but some sort of eucalyptus branch. It doesn¡¯t really make sense to me.


    ¡°Are you sure they want twigs, Sarah?¡±


    She rolls her eyes. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a vibe, very rustic. They requested it.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± I say. ¡°Reviews are everything, after all.¡±


    She tsks. ¡°The memories are everything. They¡¯re only getting married once.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you want to talk statistically¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a cynic, not today of all days.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right. And hey, if we do a good enough job, they might choose us as their venue for their second weddings,¡± I say with a grin, loving the dismay on her face. Teasing Sarah always pays off.


    ¡°Idiot,¡± she says with an eyeroll. ¡°Mandy can take photos, did you know that? She agreed to photograph all of the decorations before the guests arrive. We can use them to update the website.¡±


    ¡°Perfect.¡±

 Chapter 54

    ¡°The robes for Lucy¡¯s spa day with the bridesmaids arrived, too. I think we should make sure they¡¯re delivered to her. I can do-oh!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±¡±I forgot to put the ice sculpture in the freezer. It was the only thing the caterers asked me to do.¡± She tosses a branch to the side and runs to the door. ¡°You had one job, Sarah.¡±


    ¡°Go. I¡¯ll take the robes to the spa.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re by reception, in arge blue box!¡±


    I head out to grab the robes and shake my head at her disorganized genius. Sarah might be scatterbrained, but these weddings inevitably turn out amazing, and it¡¯s all because of her.


    I head to the spa with the box under my arm. Lucy doesn¡¯t have any treatments scheduled today, but she told me she¡¯d been there since morning to make sure everything was perfect. Apparently, she¡¯d even nned a bridesmaid yoga session, whatever that was. She¡¯d smiled when she announced it, all sunshine and excitement, and I¡¯d had to stop myself from kissing her right then and there-the staff be damned.


    I knock on the half-open door. ¡°Luce? You have a delivery!¡±


    ¡°I do?¡± She rises from her cross-legged position on the floor, a notebook next to her. ¡°Is it you?¡±


    ¡°Would you object if it were?¡±


    She stands on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to my lips. As if on cue, my body responds, warmth spreading through me. I¡¯ll never get enough of her. ¡°Not at all,¡± she says. ¡°Where do I sign?¡±


    I hand her the box. ¡°Your robes arrived.¡±


    ¡°Already? That¡¯s great! Oh, Oliver¡­ I really think this will be a great thing for the ranch. They¡¯ll pose in these robes, and it¡¯ll say bride and bridesmaid on the back. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll share them on their social media, too, and hopefully tag the ranch.¡±


    I have a seat on the waiting sofa. ¡°Stay with me tonight.¡±


    ¡°Again? You¡¯re insatiable.¡±


    ¡°When ites to you, yes.¡±


    ¡°What do you have to offer?¡±


    ¡°Take-out from Ricky¡¯s. A view of the sunset. Arge, king-sized bed.¡± I pull her down into myp and sweep the hair back from her neck. She loves kisses there, I¡¯ve learned. It¡¯s something I¡¯m going to exploit. ¡°A man who wants you.¡±


    Lucy gives a soft sigh. ¡°Is it Brad Pitt?¡±


    ¡°Very funny.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay.¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    ¡°Mmm?¡±


    ¡°Mmm. You¡¯re not the only one who¡¯s feeling a bit insatiable.¡±


    Later that night, she has me sprawled on the bed. I don¡¯t follow her instructions and herughter rings out, pealing and glorious. I can¡¯t help but smile at the sound.


    ¡°Just stop arguing and lie down! Yes, like that. Put your head on this.¡±


    I grab the pillow she hands me and stuff it under my head. Lucy sits on the side, grinning at me like the Cheshire cat.


    ¡°Why are you looking at me like that?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re handsome.¡±


    I snort. Right. I¡¯m only in my boxers, lying face-down. My scars will be on full disy in this well-lit room, but she¡¯s seen them before. I might as well take the plunge.


    Lucy straddles me. The warm weight of her is pleasant, and I can¡¯t help but tease her a little. ¡°Are you sure I shouldn¡¯t turn around for this?¡±


    She puts an admonishing hand on my back. ¡°No. Lie still.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    But as soon as she starts touching me, all thoughts of mutiny leave me. I wouldn¡¯t move from this position for all the riches in the world. Her hands are magic as they work across my skin. She finds my pressure points within seconds, the knots and sore areas I¡¯ve been neglecting for years. When she pushes against a tender spot between my shoulder-des, I can¡¯t help but groan.


    She sighs. ¡°When was thest time you took care of yourself?¡±


    It¡¯s clearly a rhetorical question, and I¡¯m thankful for that, because I don¡¯t have an answer.


    Her hands soften when she reaches my injured shoulder. From her vantage point, I¡¯m sure she can see the bullet wound and the puckered skin from the resulting infection. The wound has long since healed, but the muscles and tendons underneath aren¡¯t what they used to be. Myst physical therapist gave me a booklet with exercises to do daily, which I promptly forgot. I have no idea where the booklet ended up.


    Lucy¡¯s fingers trace the outline of the scar. ¡°You have to tell me what you feel. If it hurts or if it doesn¡¯t feel okay.¡±


    I nod into the pillow.


    ¡°I mean it, Oliver. Slight pain is good, but sharp, shooting pains are not.¡±


    I can¡¯t help but smile at her tone. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    Strong, slim hands grow bolder over my shoulder. It doesn¡¯t take long until she¡¯s working deep into my muscles. She maniptes them slowly, the scarred parts that never really regained full motion. It hurts, but it¡¯s good pain.


    ¡°You lied to me earlier,¡± she says. Her voice is deceptively soft in contrast to her strong hands. ¡°When I asked you if your shoulder hurts sometimes.¡±


    Lying beneath her hands, subject to her ministrations, half-naked¡­ what¡¯s the point in denying?


    ¡°Yes.¡±She sighs, as if that rifies everything, and bends down to kiss my shoulder. ¡°Will you let me do this weekly?¡±


    ¡°Weekly? You can do it daily.¡±


    Lucyughs. ¡°It won¡¯t always be this nice, not if it¡¯s going to be effective.¡±


    I feel her stretch out, hands still working into my back. Her body is draped along the length of mine. I can feel the curve of her hip, one of her slender legs thrown over mine.


    Her hands knead into the sore muscles of my shoulders, and I can¡¯t help my reaction. It¡¯s instinctual. I groan into her neck and throw an arm around her waist. I flip us over so I¡¯m half-lying on her like a pillow, her hands in my hair and on my muscles.


    It¡¯s been an eternity since I¡¯ve been cared for like this, touched for longer stretches of time than just for a casual sexual encounter. Touched simply for the joy to run your hands over someone else¡¯s skin.


    Lucy runs her nails lightly over my back and I shiver. ¡°Oliver?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±¡±Do you talk to someone? About the PTSD?¡± Her voice is hesitant and smooth, as if she¡¯s afraid of my reaction. But for the first time in a long while, the word doesn¡¯t make me recoil.

 Chapter 55

    ¡°Not at the moment, but I have an appointment next week.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±Yes.¡± I sigh against her soft skin. How does she always smell so amazing? ¡°It¡¯s been a while. But I called him again recently.¡±


    Lucy nestles close and kisses my cheek. ¡°That¡¯s great.¡±


    I sigh again and open my eyes. Hers are green, wide and earnest as they look into mine. ¡°For the longest time, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯dugh in a woman¡¯s bed again. I didn¡¯t think I had anything to offer.¡±


    She smiles, achingly sweet. ¡°You do.¡±


    ¡°You might still have to be patient with me from time to time.¡±


    ¡°I can be patient.¡± Her hand loops back and covers my shoulder. I know she¡¯s thinking about the scar, and even if I don¡¯t want to revisit things, she has a right to know.


    And perhaps¡­ perhaps telling her might make some of my memories a bit easier to bear. She trusted me with her past. I can be brave enough to the same to her.


    So I rest my head against her neck and take a deep breath. ¡°It was an ambush,¡± I say.


    ¡°An ambush?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Logan was there, too, actually. My unit was deployed in eastern Mali. It was a routine scouting mission, right on the outsides of thebat zone.¡± I look up to see the small frown on her forehead. I run my thumb over it. My pain is not hers to bear. ¡°It wasn¡¯t really war as you¡¯d imagine it. Civil insurgencies are difficult to characterize. Anyway¡­ We were ambushed. Greatly outnumbered, but we had the better armor, the better weaponry. We made it out. But I lost two men, and several more were injured. My shoulder was shot to hell.¡±


    She curls closer. ¡°And that was yourst deployment?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I¡¯d been flown straight back stateside for treatment and weeks of physical therapy. It wasn¡¯t a difficult wound-it wouldn¡¯t kill me-but it knocked me out for a long while.


    ¡°Is that what you have nightmares about? The ambush?¡±


    I close my eyes against her searching gaze. ¡°Sometimes. There have been other things, too¡­ I was in service for almost a decade. But I was lucky, most of the time. I didn¡¯t see action all that often.¡±


    ¡°Do you get them often? The nightmares?¡±


    I trace her corbone. ¡°Theye and go. When I first got back home, I slept like the dead. Nothing would have woken me up. The nightmares only started about a year after I got back.¡±


    She makes a small humming sound. ¡°That makes sense.¡±


    ¡°It does?¡±¡±Yes. You were healing physically, and when that was done¡­ well, there was more healing to do.¡± She runs a hand through my hair, ying with the strands at the nape of my neck. ¡°Did Logan serve under you?¡±N?vel(D)rama.Org''s content.


    ¡°Yes. I keep in contact with all of them, but Logan is the only one who stayed close by.¡±


    She wraps an arm around my shoulders. ¡°Thank you for telling me.¡±


    I flip us over again. Smoothing back a tendril of her hair, I cup her cheek. She¡¯s so beautiful it hurts. It¡¯s impossible that she¡¯s mine-I can¡¯t possibly be allowed to keep her.


    ¡°Thanks for the massage.¡±


    She smiles, close enough that our lips touch. ¡°You¡¯re wee.¡±


    ¡°So, about us¡­¡± I say and run my hand down the curve of her waist. ¡°We¡¯re still under the wraps?¡±


    Lucy nods. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine anyone would really mind, but let¡¯s wait to tell everyone.¡±


    ¡°Mmm.¡± I kiss her, our lips moving in perfect sync, and have to stop myself from losing my train of thought. ¡°Maybe we can announce it at the staff BBQ. That¡¯s a few weeks from now.¡±


    She grins. ¡°Announce it? Have you gone from hermit to public speaker?¡±


    ¡°You clearly have no respect for personal growth.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I respect some forms of personal growth.¡± Lucy slides her hand down my stomach, her eyes turning sly.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you just said that.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ve changed, too.¡±


    I try to focus on my scattered thoughts and not on what her hand is doing. I know I only have seconds to spare before my baser desires take over. ¡°How long do you think you¡¯ll stay?¡±


    Lucy nces over at my rm clock. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Maybe until-¡±


    ¡°In remont.¡±


    Her green eyes flick back to mine. ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± she says. ¡°I really like it here.¡±


    ¡°Indefinitely, then?¡±


    Her responding smile tugs at something in my chest. ¡°Indefinitely,¡± she agrees.


    ¡°Here you go!¡± I hand Mrs. Daniels the bag with her goods. ¡°I added a few croissants as well, for your husband.¡±


    ¡°Why thank you! How did you know he loves them?¡±


    ¡°He let it slip thest time he was here. He might have also added that carrot cake is your favorite.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my weakness.¡± She pretends to peer into the bag. ¡°You didn¡¯t add any of that, did you?¡±


    ¡°Not this time, but who knows? Maybe next time.¡±


    She shakes her head with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll just have toe back, then.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very wee.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you next week, by the way-with my mat!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯reing to the yoga ss?¡±


    Mrs. Daniels nods, a hand on the door. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s all anyone can talk about in my book circle!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great! I look forward to it already.¡±


    She waves and leaves, the doorbell jingling gayly behind her.

 Chapter 56

    Another customer for the yoga ss! It¡¯s growing, this little business of mine. Two of the locals from myst ss had told me afterward that they hadn¡¯t been to the Morris Ranch for nearly a decade, and anothermented on all the hard work Oliver and Sarah had put into making the ce viable.


    It wasn¡¯t apliment aimed at me, but I had felt oddly proud all the same. The ranch had always been an integral part of thismunity, and under Oliver¡¯s leadership, it brought considerable tourism to the area.


    I put my hand on my hips and surveyed the bakery¡¯s counter. Nearly half of the morning¡¯s goods were already sold out, and it wasn¡¯t even ten o¡¯clock.


    ¡°Auntie?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±¡±Is it just me, or are we selling more now than we did just a few weeks ago?¡±


    Shees out of the kitchen, her smile teasing. ¡°Well, it¡¯s either that or you¡¯re giving away half of the inventory.¡±


    I frown. ¡°Only the baked goods from yesterday.¡±


    ¡°I know, dear, and they love you for it. I just wish you could work here forever.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not nning on going anywhere, you know.¡±


    Her smile turns crooked. ¡°Oh, aren¡¯t you? I happened to see a catalog this morning in our post box. Something about bing a physical therapist?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s something I¡¯ve been thinking about for a long time now, actually. I don¡¯t know, it would be several years until I¡¯d be fully licensed, but¡­¡± I wave a hand dismissively. ¡°I think I¡¯d be good at it.¡±


    ¡°Lucy, it¡¯s perfect for you.¡±


    ¡°You think?¡±¡±Yes. You¡¯d get to interact with people and help them recover after idents or injuries. You could have flexible working hours. Yes, I think it¡¯s perfect.¡± She wraps an arm around my shoulders and smiles, the lines around her eyes deepening. ¡°Who knows, maybe you could even work a shift or two in the bakery from time to time.¡±


    I smile back. ¡°I¡¯d love that.¡±


    ¡°Besides, lord knows our backs could use a session of therapy.¡± She puts a hand on her lower back and sighs, but her eyes still twinkle. ¡°So much hard work. What¡¯s the point in having a niece that¡¯s a massage therapist, huh?¡±


    ¡°Whenever, wherever, as I¡¯ve told you.¡± I put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°If you have significant back pain, yoga will probably help in the long-run. There¡¯s actually a ss on Sunday that-¡±


    ire straightens up. ¡°Do you know what? I¡¯m actually feeling much better.¡±


    ¡°Are you now?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Fancy that!¡±


    I grin at her. ¡°Fancy that, indeed. Well, my door is always open if you ever want to, truly.¡±


    ¡°I know, dear. And I¡¯ll be brave enough to take you up on your offer one day.¡±


    The bell to the front door jingles again and my aunt squeezes my shoulder. ¡°No rest for the wicked, it seems.¡±


    It¡¯s Oliver. His golden hair falls in delicious waves over his forehead. He¡¯s left the usual id shirt at home today, wearing a white button-down with rolled up sleeves instead. You¡¯d think that seeing him often would make me used to his good looks, but no. It hits me this hard every single time.


    Oliver nces between my aunt and me before his features soften. ¡°This is quite the weingmittee. It almost makes me wish I came to town more often.¡±


    My aunt smiles. ¡°What brings you into town today, Oliver? Was everything alright with your order this morning?¡±


    ¡°Yes, absolutely.¡±


    ¡°Here to talk to Lucy, then?¡±


    Oliver¡¯s face reveals nothing, but the nce he shoots me is questioning. Had I told her about us?


    I clear my throat. ¡°Is it about the ranch? Do you need my help with the wedding preparation?¡±


    ¡°No, we¡¯re all set. I¡¯m actually here to buy a cake.¡±


    I frown. ¡°A cake?¡±


    ¡°What for?¡± ire asks. ¡°I can make something custom if it¡¯s for ater date, you know. Do you want to ce an order?¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s for tonight. Do you have anything pre-made? It¡¯s my brother-inw¡¯s birthday and Sarah sent me.¡±


    ¡°Does she have any preferences?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±ire fixes him with her signature stare. ¡°Are you sure? It¡¯s Sarah Morris we¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Oliver snorts. ¡°Yes, but she also chose to send me. I¡¯ll take whatever cake you can spare, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°I think I have just the thing¡­ oh, yes. She¡¯ll like it. I¡¯ll be right back!¡± My aunt is a whirlwind of apron ties and smiles as she hurries back to the kitchen. ¡°Lucy, entertain our customer!¡±


    For a long moment, we just look at each other. Things feel right when he¡¯s around somehow, in a way I can¡¯t quite put into words. The worldes into sharper focus. ¡°Hey,¡± I say.


    He smiles. ¡°Hi.¡±


    ¡°Sarah sent you, did she?¡±


    ¡°I volunteered.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±Oliver leans across the counter, our hands only inches apart. ¡°I couldn¡¯t stay away.¡±


    ¡°Insatiable¡­¡± I trace one of his fingers, up past his knuckle, and nce towards the kitchen. My aunt should be upied for a little while.This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    ¡°Yes. And since you¡¯re not going to be working at the ranch today, I had to get creative.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we can do something this weekend.¡± I look down coyly, pretending to consider. ¡°I heard there¡¯s a huge antique market in Acton.¡±


    Oliver¡¯s groans and I break intoughter. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I couldn¡¯t resist. I know you love antiques so.¡±


    ¡°If you keep this up, I might have to open the counter-hatch again ande back there myself.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±


    He shoots a dark nce towards the kitchen door. ¡°I¡¯m finding that I care less and less about what people think.¡±


    ¡°They might talk,¡± I say. Oliver had never liked being the talk of the town. I knew it bothered him, the knowledge that peoplemented wherever he went. It was something that bothered me, too.

 Chapter 57

    But he doesn¡¯t seem to mind. ¡°So let them,¡± he says.


    ¡°Look what I found! The perfect red velvet cake¡­ Oh.¡± My aunt stops in the doorway, bncing a massive cake in her arms. I lean back and put some distance between me and Oliver, but it¡¯s no use. Her eyes flicker between us and it¡¯s obvious that she can sense the intimacy.


    ¡°That looks great,¡± Oliver says. ¡°Did you do the decorations just now?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I wrote John¡¯s name on the top.¡± She wraps the cake in arge, white box. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to carry this straight. Put it at the foot of your passenger seat, not on the seat itself, okay?¡±


    ¡°Of course, ma¡¯am. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Call me ire, please.¡± To my surprise, there¡¯s a faint blush on my aunt¡¯s cheeks. ¡°Tell Sarah hello for me, and happy birthday from us to John?¡±


    ¡°I will. Can you put this on our invoice?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely.¡±This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    ¡°Thank you for this, ire.¡± He straightens with the box in his arms. ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon, Lucy.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Have fun!¡±


    With a final nod to us both, Oliver strides out of the bakery and across the street to his truck. ire and I watch in silence as he climbs into the passenger street and drives away.


    The silence feels loaded. I can only imagine what my aunt is thinking right now. The Spanish Inquisition should begin in three, two, one¡­


    But she doesn¡¯t say a thing. She just smiles and dusts her hands off on her apron. ¡°He always was a good boy. I think he¡¯s doing much better now, you know.¡±


    ¡°You think?¡±¡±Yes. He came in here, and he smiled.¡± She holds up a finger at me. ¡°Recovery takes time, you know. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s the first rule of physical therapy.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re probably right. I should take notes.¡±


    She stops, one hand on the door to the kitchen. Her face is thoughtful. ¡°So that¡¯s why you like working at the ranch so much.¡±


    I can¡¯t help it-a slow smile spreads across my face, mingling with my flushed cheeks. ¡°Is it that obvious?¡±


    ire smiles. ¡°Sweetheart, with the way you two looked at each other just now, I¡¯m surprised the entire town doesn¡¯t already know.¡±


    My narrow bed feels far too big when I try to sleep that night. I miss Oliver¡¯s hair against my temple and his strong arms around my waist. For the past week, I¡¯ve spent nearly every night at the ranch. The early morning drive to town had be our ritual, and the farewell kiss on my doorstep was the sweetest goodbye.


    I sigh and look up at the ceiling. He¡¯d be vital to my happiness in such a short time. I felt like myself around him-and he could be who he was, without pretension or expectation.


    Would it be so bad if people found out about us? Maybe we could go together to the staff BBQ party like he suggested. He¡¯s my boss, yes, but remont isn¡¯t Das, and I¡¯m technically more of a consultant. I know that some people in town don¡¯t like the thought of a masseuse, but the majority of people had been incredibly weing.


    I reach out and grab my phone. We rarely text-Oliver once said he preferred to talk in person or on the phone-but I shoot him one anyway. How was John¡¯s birthday?


    The answer is immediate, which is unusual for him. I spent most of the evening with Nora. We built a pirate ship out of nkets and pillows.


    I smile. Did you use her as an excuse to hide from the other guests?


    It was a tactical retreat.


    At that, I have tough. It isn¡¯t hard to picture him turning taciturn, surrounded by strangers, and a small hand tugging him away to build forts. He¡¯ll make a great father one day.


    Can¡¯t sleep?


    No.


    I bite my lip. Same. I wish you were here.


    I watch the screen, waiting for the three little dots to appear, but they don¡¯t. Maybe he fell asleep-God knew he needed it. I put my phone on my bedside table. I should try to do the same.


    I¡¯m still tossing and turning when my phone rings fifteen minutester. The name shing across the screen is a wee surprise.


    ¡°Oliver?¡±¡±Come downstairs.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±¡±Come downstairs and let me in.¡±


    I throw back the covers and rush downstairs. Lo and behold-on my doorstep is one tall, handsome and broad-shouldered ranch owner. His eyes are alight, telling me everything I know he doesn¡¯t have the words for yet.


    ¡°Lucy,¡± he says.


    ¡°You came? I can¡¯t believe you came!¡±


    He locks the door behind him, shrugging out of his light jacket. ¡°You said that you wished I was here.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, but I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d-¡±


    ¡°Make your wishe true?¡±


    I smile at him and reach up to wrap my arms around his neck. His body is big and familiar against me, a safe anchor in the night. ¡°Exactly.¡±


    Oliver runs reverent hands down my body and grips the back of my thighs, lifting me up against his body. We fit effortlessly-wrapping my legs around his waist feels likeing home. He carries me up the stairs, holding me tightly.


    ¡°Can I say something cheesy?¡±


    He pretends to consider it for a moment. ¡°Permission granted.¡±


    ¡°I want to make your dreamse true, too.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re smooth, Rhodes.¡±


    I smile against his lips as heys me down on the bed. His skin is warm to the touch. ¡°Just trying to keep up with you, stud.¡±


    Oliver stills, his hands on my waist. ¡°Stud?¡±


    ¡°I know, I heard it the moment I said it. Ignore me.¡±


    He smiles. ¡°Okay. You¡¯re wee to say more stupid things, if you want.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure I will,¡± I say and he chuckles. He motions for me to scoot forward and kisses me slowly, tantalizingly, using his tongue to tease out my reactions. I can¡¯t be in the same room as him without wanting to feel him inside me, and judging from the way his tongue moves in sync with mine, he feels the same way.

 Chapter 58

    He tugs my t-shirt up and over my head, tossing it across the room. He pauses, watching as it slides down onto my couch.


    ¡°Hey, was that my t-shirt?¡±


    I nod. ¡°I stole itst night.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±Yes, and I¡¯m not the least bit sorry. Yours are so muchfier than mine.¡±


    His smile is entirely male. ¡°I like you in my clothes.¡±


    Strong lips seal over mine again as he pushes me down on the bed. My panties are tugged down my legs, quickly reced by his lips and tongue.


    Every time, he does this, and every time, I¡¯m lost to it. He touches me like it¡¯s the first time he¡¯s had me, like it¡¯s the first time he¡¯s seen me naked. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯ve done to deserve this kind of worship.


    My hands find their way into his thick hair. I¡¯m reeling, spinning through a haze of pleasure and feeling and want. He¡¯s everywhere, teasing and prodding, licking and parting, until I can¡¯t help but break apart into a thousand slivers of pleasure.


    He¡¯s wearing a satisfied grin when he finally stretches out atop me. ¡°You¡¯re sweet.¡±


    I¡¯m still caught in the afterglow of my orgasm, feeling deliciously limber. ¡°Oliver, I don¡¯t¡­ I never want you to stop.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± He taps me gently on the hip. ¡°On your side, baby.¡±


    I turn over and he settles in behind me. We¡¯ve slept this way before, his arm around my waist and my leg between his. But he¡¯s stillrge and throbbing against my back.


    ¡°What about you? I need you.¡± I try to reach over, but Oliver pushes my hand away.


    ¡°It¡¯ste, and your bed is tiny. Let me take you this way.¡± He trails kisses along my bare neck. ¡°Lift your leg.¡±


    He slips a hand under my neck and then I feel him between my legs, hard and sure. Oliver sinks into me in one slow, forceful movement.


    ¡°Oh¡­ oh!¡±


    His voice is a deep rumble in my ear. ¡°A good oh?¡±


    ¡°A great oh.¡±


    I¡¯ve never felt him from this angle before. It¡¯s slow, and it¡¯s deep, and so much more intimate than it¡¯s ever been before. Oliver¡¯s hands are everywhere. One cups my breast and tweaks a nipple before it searches down between my legs. He circles my clit until pleasure crests again, rising in tune with his deep thrusts.


    I can feel every inch of his body against mine. I reach back and grip his shoulder, his arm, any part of him I can reach.


    His left arm is a steel band across my chest as he increases the pace. I can feel his chest hair against my back as he moves, his breathing warm against my neck. Why have we never had sex this way before? I can¡¯t see him, but I can feel him everywhere.


    ¡°Together,¡± I murmur, putting my hand over his where it¡¯s working between my legs. ¡°I want us toe together.¡±


    Oliver¡¯s voice is a low rasp. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Together, we move and twine and work towards release. Pressed close like this, there¡¯s not an inch of my skin that¡¯s not pressed against his. I never want him to let me go.


    His breathing picks up and I can feel his urgency. ¡°Fuck, Lucy, I can¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°Now.¡±


    He groans into my hair andes with full force. I can feel it, feel his body thrust and the hot pulse of him inside of me. It sets off my own pleasure and Ie, contracting around him. For a split second, I don¡¯t know where I am or who I am. There¡¯s only this-his body against mine and the sound of his groan in my ear as we lose ourselves in each other.


    It hits me with startling rity. I¡¯m in love with him. I¡¯m so, so, so in love with Oliver Morris.


    His breathing slows, but he doesn¡¯t let me go. ¡°Luce?¡±


    ¡°Mmm?¡±¡±I¡¯m never going to let you go either, you know.¡± A strong hand snakes up to cup my breast again, but this time it¡¯s a sweet caress, afort.


    ¡°Good,¡± I murmur. He¡¯s still inside me, our bodies sweaty and intertwined.


    We fall asleep like that, tucked close together in my narrow bed, his arms around me.


    ¡°Wake up, baby.¡±


    I blink my eyes open. Oliver is looking down at me, his deep blue eyes serious. For a moment, I think we¡¯re at the ranch until I register the scent of freshly baked bread. It smells like sourdough, like rye¡­


    ¡°We overslept!¡±


    Oliver runs his hand down my back again. ¡°Yes, for the first time in forever.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡± I push off him and nce at my rm clock. ¡°Oh my God.¡±


    He sits up with a smile, the sheet pooled around his waist. ¡°I¡¯m sure your aunt and uncle won¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, although I¡¯ve never beente before. But-Oh.¡± I sp a hand over my mouth. ¡°They¡¯ll see you leave.¡±


    His grin is crooked and far more yful than I¡¯m used to. ¡°I¡¯ll say hello.¡±


    I toss him his t-shirt and quickly pull on a pair of panties, fastening my bra. The dress I usually wear to work isn¡¯t in my closet, but I find it thrown over the desk chair. I lift up my hair and turn to him. ¡°Will you help me with the sp?¡±


    He fastens it with deft fingers, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. ¡°Your aunt and uncle like me,¡± he murmurs. ¡°Don¡¯t be nervous.¡±N?vel(D)rama.Org''s content.


    I take a deep breath and turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck. ¡°I¡¯m not worried about that part, actually. My aunt has already figured it out.¡±


    ¡°She has?¡±


    ¡°We were pretty obvious yesterday. But now they¡¯ll know I¡­ ugh.¡± I bury my head in the crook of his neck. ¡°They¡¯ll know we had sex, up here,st night.¡±


    Oliverughs. I hit him on the shoulder, but he doesn¡¯t stop, and it¡¯s infectious. Soon enough we¡¯re bothughing. ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s embarrassing!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ll think we¡¯re sleeping together as soon as they find out we¡¯re together, sweetheart. But if it makes you feel any better, I can try to sneak out while you distract them.¡±


    I hand him his jeans. ¡°No, that¡¯s silly. We¡¯re adults. I¡¯m allowed to have sex, even if it¡¯s mortifying that my family will know the exact details.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re exaggerating. They weren¡¯t in this room with usst night, were they?¡±

 Chapter 59

    I pretend to look under a pillow. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    Oliver rolls his eyes, but he¡¯s smiling. ¡°Come on, scaredy-cat. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    I pull my hair into a ponytail and nce in the mirror. I look presentable. We¡¯re adults, I think again. Nothing to hide. Oliver heads for the door, but I stop him with a hand on his arm. ¡°Oliver?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±¡±Thank you foring overst night.¡±


    His eyes soften and he¡¯s looking at me that way again-the way that makes me melt. ¡°Anytime,¡± he murmurs.


    I take the lead down the stairs to the bakery. It¡¯s still early and we haven¡¯t opened yet-thank God!-but I can hear cheery music from the radio in the kitchen. Phil is probably out doing the rounds, but ire will be in.


    It¡¯s just my luck, of course, that she pops out from the kitchen right as we pass by the counter. She smiles at us both, as if seeing Oliver in the bakery before the store is open is an ordinary urrence.


    ¡°Good morning!¡±


    We have nothing to be ashamed of. I grab Oliver¡¯s hand and smile back at her. ¡°Good morning! I¡¯m sorry for beingte this morning.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about it. We don¡¯t open for another ten minutes anyway. Hi, Oliver.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, ire.¡±


    ¡°Do you want coffee before you go?¡±


    ¡°Thank you, but I should be going.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? We have a new roast¡­ it¡¯s from Colombia, I think. Or Ethiopia?¡±


    ¡°No, I better be off. The first wedding of the season ising up.¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course! But before you go, tell me, what did Sarah think about the cake for John?¡±


    He smiles. ¡°She loved it, and so did John. They both send their thanks.¡±


    ¡°I knew she¡¯d like the red velvet!¡± ire gives us a cheery wave and heads back into the kitchen. We¡¯re left alone, hand in hand. A slow smile spreads on my face, echoing the one on his. She well and truly knows about us now.


    Oliver bends to whisper in my ear. ¡°She didn¡¯t even bat an eyelid. Do you do this often? Bring men through here in the morning?¡±


    ¡°Ass.¡±


    He shakes his head at me, but his eyes are light with teasing. ¡°And here I thought I was special.¡±


    ¡°Nope, just one of the many.¡± I pull him towards the front door. ¡°Thank you, though.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°For being my favorite one.¡±


    Oliver grins and pulls on his cap, once again covering the thick blonde hair I love to bury my hands in. He presses a final kiss to my temple.


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to youter.¡±


    ¡°Bye.¡±


    The door shuts behind him and I just stand there, watching as he heads out on Main Street. I¡¯ve never felt this before-this intense mixture of admiration andpassion, of want and need.


    I love him. I won¡¯t tell him, not yet, even though the feeling is so strong it threatens to consume me. All those weeks ago, when I sat on the bus towards remont, seeking an escape¡­ Would I have believed it, if someone had told me that I¡¯d find happiness here? Love? I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve.


    I start prepping the disys. The bakery openster on weekends, but we draw arger crowd. People tend to filter in throughout the day to buy our famous cookies. The huge stack of chocte chip and toffee is shrinking by the hour, but so is ire¡¯s new variety with crushed Oreos. She¡¯ll be happy to see it¡¯s a hit.


    I smile at each and every customer, so happy I feel like I could burst. Love. Who would have thought? I don¡¯t know where Oliver and I are heading, but I¡¯m beyond excited to find out.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    Mandy pops into the bakery around lunch, camera in hand.


    ¡°Hey!¡± It¡¯s rare for her to stop by. ¡°This is a happy surprise!¡±


    ¡°Hi, Luce.¡±


    ¡°Are you here for a cookie?¡± I wiggle my eyebrows at her. ¡°Don¡¯t tell my bosses, but I¡¯ll let you have a sample.¡±


    She smiles, but it¡¯s tight. ¡°No, although I might take you up on thatter. I wanted to see you.¡±


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°No, no. I just¡­ I just figured you should know.¡± She nces around the bakery before she leans forward. ¡°I stopped at Ricky¡¯s this morning for some coffee.¡±


    ¡°Ah. The gossip hotspot?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°Has something happened?¡±


    ¡°Well, I overheard talk about how a certain red truck was parked outside the bakery¡­ overnight.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±¡±It wasn¡¯t bad, you know. Not really.¡±


    ¡°Did they mention us?¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, people know you live here, and that the two of you work together. But it doesn¡¯t matter what anyone says. They¡¯re just curious, and you¡¯re new. It¡¯s been a long time since Oliver¡¯s name has been connected with anyone. They¡¯re interested.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not that new.¡±


    She rolls her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll be new for years, Lucy. It¡¯s how this town works.¡±


    A wave of panic sweeps through me and I do my best to choke it down. ¡°Thanks for the heads up.¡±


    ¡°Of course, I figured you¡¯d want to know.¡± She puts a hand over mine, her dark eyes warm. ¡°They¡¯ll gossip for a day or two, and then it¡¯ll die down. You know how it is. Besides, this way, you and Oliver won¡¯t have to announce it or anything.¡±


    I nod. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right.¡±

 Chapter 60

    ¡°Does this mean you figured things outst night, then?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we did. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll argue more in the future, but as long as we talk it through, we¡¯ll be fine. How about you? Did you survive Logan?¡±


    ¡°Yes. We talked for a bit, actually.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±Yes, but don¡¯t get any ideas.¡± She raises a finger in warning. ¡°I can see where your mind is heading.¡±


    I pretend to salute her. ¡°Understood. Roadblocks erected.¡±


    ¡°Dork.¡±


    ¡°You know you love it.¡± I grab the te with tasters of the Oreo chocte chip cookies. ¡°Try our new vor?¡±


    Mandy gives me a final hug before she leaves, and I¡¯m left alone with my thoughts. So people know. It¡¯s not just spection-they know know.


    The reasonable part of me tries to argue that it was inevitable. The town was always going to find out, anyway.


    But not this way. Now everyone knows he stayed the night with all that that implies. I like to think I¡¯m not a prude, but in a town this small, with people like Gavin who already draws conclusions about me being a massage therapist? This was not the way I wanted to be spoken about.


    My aunt realizes something is wrong the second shees back out of the kitchen. She¡¯s at my side in seconds, and the concern on her face nearly undoes me. I tell her exactly what Mandy told me.


    ¡°I just don¡¯t want them to think¡­ he¡¯s my boss, technically, you know.¡±


    She shakes her head. ¡°People don¡¯t think that way. They¡¯re just curious, sweetie. It¡¯ll pass, especially once they see how you and Oliver are together.¡±


    ¡°You think?¡±¡±I know. Tell you what, they¡¯re unveiling the new fountain in town today.¡±


    ¡°They are? The one that¡¯s been under construction for ages?¡±


    ¡°The very one. I even think the current mayor will be there to give a little speech. How about you and I go there this afternoon? Phil can handle the cash register. People can¡¯t talk if you¡¯re there, and if anyone has any questions, you¡¯ll be there to answer them.¡±


    I swallow. I know exactly the type of crowd who¡¯ll be there-Mrs. Masters and her friends. ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s a good idea.¡±


    ¡°Of course it is! You have nothing to be ashamed of. Why don¡¯t you show them that?¡±


    ¡°I just don¡¯t like being the town gossip, you know.¡±


    She rubs my shoulder. ¡°I know, sweetie, no one does. But you¡¯re strong, Lucy.¡±


    I take a deep breath. What was I afraid of, really? Oliver and I had done nothing wrong. ¡°You¡¯re right. We should go.¡±


    ¡°And who knows? Maybe they¡¯ll discover a newrk next week and your rtionship will be entirely forgotten.¡±


    I can¡¯t help butugh. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Now let¡¯s find your uncle, wherever he might be, and tell him he needs to man the front desk. We¡¯re going out to have some fun.¡±


    The center square is entirely shut off from traffic. Tables with drinks are set up along one edge, and in the center, the fountain is covered with a giant, red piece of cloth. The top 100 hits are ying on repeat from a hidden speaker. I shade my eyes and look around at the crowd.


    Is this far too much attention for a single fountain? Yes. But I¡¯ve kind of learned to like this aspect of small-town life. remont locals will take any excuse to celebrate and talk with their neighbors, to spend more time together, and there¡¯s something beautiful in that.


    ire waves at a group of women as we arrive. ¡°That¡¯s the book club I¡¯ve been trying to get into for ages,¡± she stage-whispers to me.


    ¡°Trying to get into?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re very exclusive.¡±


    I chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m sure you qualify.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, I might have to bribe them with some cake.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a great strategy. Bake it in the shape of a book.¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    Her eyes light up. ¡°Lucy, you¡¯re a genius.¡±


    ¡°I was joking!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not. Come on, let¡¯s go talk to some people.¡±


    I extricate myself from a fascinating conversation about remont history about twenty minutester to head to the drinks table. My aunt is right-no one is looking at me any differently. Only one person asked me about Oliver, and that was more in a congrattory way. Maybe I¡¯d overreacted, after all.


    It isn¡¯t until I¡¯ve reached the drinks area that I notice a small clique to my left, hiding from the sun under a parasol. One of the men is easy to recognize, with his slicked back hair and confident stance. Gavin Whittaker.


    I pour myself a cup of lemonade and try to listen to what they¡¯re saying. I finally make out their words, though I quickly wish I hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°That¡¯s why he hired her, you know. Easy ess.¡±


    There¡¯s a round of snickers. ¡°He doesn¡¯t even have to leave the ranch,¡± a woman says, someone I don¡¯t recognize. ¡°I can¡¯t think of a more perfect set-up. Home delivery.¡±


    ¡°Zero work, maximum reward.¡±


    I look over and see a blonde woman shaking her head. ¡°Well, that¡¯s for sure-I¡¯ll never let Mark book a treatment with her!¡±


    They allugh. ¡°What wife would let her husband go there? No, you were right from the start, Gavin. This town is better than¡­ that.¡±


    This can¡¯t be happening.


    The ground tilts underneath my feet. This can¡¯t be happening, not again, not here, please not here. The cup slips out of my hand and falls to the ground. This town is better than that, she said. There was a world of insinuation in that single word. That.


    I pick up my cup with shaking hands and throw it in the trash before I head blindly for Main Street. I need to get away, I need to go back to my studio. I need to be alone. I can¡¯t let them see my cry, even though tears burn behind my eyes.


    ¡°Wait.¡±


    I speed up.


    ¡°Wait!¡± A strong hand reaches out and grasps my forearm. ¡°Where are you off to in such a hurry?¡±


    I blink my eyes clear as I look up at Gavin. Was he not done humiliating me? ¡°I heard you,¡± I say. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be in yourpany for even a second longer.¡±

 Chapter 61

    Gavin shakes his head. ¡°If only you¡¯d taken me up on my offer. At least I would have paid you. Morris is only with you for convenience, honey.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡±


    ¡°Am I, though? Think about it.¡±


    I shake off his hand and take off towards the bakery. His words, theirughs-it all rings in my head.


    I fight the urge to run. My tears threaten to spill, but I choke them back. I¡¯m channeling the neutral expression I¡¯ve seen Oliver wear so many times. The thought of him brings a new, fresh round of despair. Oliver. What Gavin said¡­ what he implied¡­ Easy ess. They made us sound so crude.


    I wouldn¡¯t let my husband go to her!


    That¡¯s what Oliver had implied, too, before he apologized-with me and his staff. All my old fearse rushing back. I can¡¯t handle a repeat of Das, with the old rumors chasing me. If people here knew why I¡¯d officially been fired, if they knew the story that creep spread¡­


    My hand shakes as I open the door to the bakery. As soon as I¡¯ve closed the door behind me, my tears finally overflow.This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    Everything is copsing around me. Only this morning, I¡¯d been happier than I could ever remember being. Now I wonder if I¡¯d been deluding myself this entire time. remont would never be big enough for me to fit in. How could my work possibly be seen as professional now? I¡¯d screwed things up.


    I throw myself on the bed. I find that it smells exactly like Oliver and our lovemaking. If anything, it makes me cry even harder.


    ¡°Where do I sign?¡±


    The delivery guy hands me a clipboard. ¡°Right here, Mr. Morris.¡±


    ¡°Thanks foring out so quickly,¡± I say and sign my initials on the dotted line.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a pleasure doing business with you. I¡¯ve heard a lot about this ce.¡±


    ¡°You have?¡±He shuts the doors to his truck. ¡°Yes. My mother and sister came up here a couple of years ago and loved the riding trails. Beautiful ce.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Dave. Take care.¡±


    ¡°You too.¡±He drives off, leaving me with a massive, nearly unsolvable mess of wood and instion on the ranch¡¯s parking lot. It¡¯s a good thing Lucy won¡¯t be around this weekend, because I¡¯m going to build her a sauna.


    I¡¯ll surprise her with it on Sunday afternoon.


    I grab the firstrge package and toss it onto the golf cart. The little vehicle had been Sarah¡¯s suggestion. She thought it would make our cleaning and maintenance staff look more professional when they went from cabin to cabin. But it¡¯s a godsend, truthfully, when you have to navigate the gravel pathways around the ranch.


    The sun is high in the sky and I tug off my nnel. It¡¯s a warm day, and there¡¯s a lot of work to do to get it in ce, but I feel better than I have in a long time. Logan joins me as we methodically transform the spare room in the spa.


    Austin watches us as we work, flopped down on all fours nearby. Nora and Lizzie yed fetch with him earlier, and the fellow ispletely exhausted.


    ¡°I know how he feels,¡± Logan grumbles and reaches for the hammer. ¡°This is a much bigger job than you let on.¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯tin. I¡¯m paying you double for this.¡±


    He snorts. ¡°Does that mean you¡¯ll buy me two beers instead of one?¡±


    I hand him another box of nails. ¡°We¡¯re getting somewhere. All the wood paneling is done.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, just the electrics left, is that what you¡¯re saying?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the most important part.¡±


    ¡°Charmer.¡±


    We work past sunset, tossing beers back and exchanging banter. Thest thing we do is fit the spotlights into the wood paneled ceiling. Lucy hasn¡¯t texted me all day, which I¡¯m grateful for. Coming up with ame excuse is not something I¡¯m good at.


    Logan and I step back and inspect our work. It¡¯ste and my back is aching, but I¡¯m not tired. If anything, I can¡¯t wait to see Lucy¡¯s reaction.


    ¡°This looks great, man.¡±


    I nod. ¡°Just the electric stove left. We¡¯ll do that tomorrow, though.¡±


    ¡°What time is sheing?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t let her know a time yet, so I¡¯ll y it by ear. And you¡¯re crashing here tonight, brother.¡±


    Logan grins. ¡°Will I finally get to experience the famed Morris Ranch hospitality?¡±


    ¡°Yes. My couch.¡±


    He pretends to wince. ¡°Ouch. I hope I¡¯ll at least get a mint on the pillow.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t count on that if I were you.¡±


    ¡°I have a Yelp ount, you know.¡±


    I shake my head at him, grinning as I shut the spa behind us. ¡°No, you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°But I could get one.¡±


    ¡°Idiot.¡±


    We get up early the next day to finish the instation. Lucy still hasn¡¯t called or texted me, and while it¡¯s a relief, it¡¯s also a bit odd. I¡¯ll give her a call as soon as we¡¯re finished¡­ invite her up for lunch or dinner. Maybe we¡¯ll even go riding before I show her the changes to the spa.


    The day we¡¯ve been apart feels like forever. I hadn¡¯t realized just how much I¡¯de to rely on herpany, on her smiles and herughter. Lucy is the most incredible person I¡¯ve ever met. She¡¯s strong and she¡¯s vulnerable, and by far the most beautiful soul I¡¯ve ever encountered.


    I hang up the new sign outside while Logan installs the electric sauna stove. Lucy¡¯s face will be priceless-I can¡¯t wait to see her smile.


    ¡°Do you need some help in there?¡±


    Logan shakes his head, lying on his back with a screwdriver in his hand. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡±


    ¡°Although, if you¡¯re insisting¡­ I wouldn¡¯t mind another beer. ¡±


    I snort. ¡°Right. I¡¯ll be back.¡±

 Chapter 62

    The Ranch is a mess as I walk back towards the main house. Sarah is running from ce to ce, trying to finish thest details for the wedding in a few days. The ranch really pulls together for events like that, and I know I¡¯m a lucky bastard for finding these people. The ce would have been a wreck without them. Worse-it would have been sold.


    I don¡¯t know what my father and grandfather would have thought about my decision to turn it into a hotel, but I do know what they¡¯d thought about selling. It would have broken their hearts.


    If nothing else, I made sure it stayed in the family, and that it gave both Sarah and myself work for decades toe. I¡¯m not mayor, but the Morris name is still respected.


    It¡¯ll have to do.


    I¡¯m rummaging through the fridge in the staff kitchen when I hear a familiar voice in reception. It¡¯s too early-we¡¯re not done yet.


    ¡°Hi, Mandy.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Luce.¡±


    ¡°Is Oliver in?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I think he¡¯s in the staff kitchen, actually.¡±


    The door swings open. Lucy¡¯s wearing her shorts again, her long legs on disy, and her hair is loose around her shoulders. She¡¯s so beautiful it hurts. I want to pull her close and kiss her, take the edge off our day apart.


    My gorgeous girl.


    ¡°Hi there.¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡± She tugs at the hem of her t-shirt and nods towards the stairs. ¡°Can we go to your office?¡±


    There¡¯s something off in her voice. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    She shakes her head and hurries up the steps with me in tow. She shuts the door to my office carefully behind us. It¡¯s not like her, this quiet, careful demeanor. Something¡¯s happened.


    ¡°Lucy, tell me what¡¯s wrong.¡±


    She pushes her hair back. ¡°People know about us.¡±This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±¡±No, Oliver, everyone knows about us. Someone saw your truck parked overnight outside the bakery¡­ It¡¯s the talk of the town.¡±


    I lean against my desk and cross my arms. ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t bother you? I thought you hated being the talk of the town.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother me. Hey, hey¡­ stop.¡± I grab her by the shoulders and meet her worried gaze. ¡°It only bothered me when it was negative.¡±


    ¡°Well, I hate to break it to you, but the talk going around isn¡¯t exactly positive.¡±


    I frown. ¡°It¡¯s not a bad thing that people know about us.¡±


    ¡°Well, it might be.¡± Lucy shrugs off my touch and begins pacing again. Back and forth, worrying her lower lip, until she stops and faces me. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just¡­ I¡¯m not sure if we can do this, not this way.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±¡±I can¡¯t have people talking, Oliver!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re just people.¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t think what I¡¯m doing here is respectable, and they certainly won¡¯t take me seriously if I¡­¡±


    ¡°If you do what?¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m sleeping with the boss.¡±


    For a long moment, all I can do is look at her. Sleeping with the boss.


    ¡°I need this job, Oliver. I need it, and I¡¯m not sure how to¡­ Oh, God. We were so foolish.¡±


    I frown. ¡°This isn¡¯t like Das, Lucy. Your job has never been on the line.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± She takes a deep breath, stopping in the middle of my office. ¡°I know that. I just need some space. Some time to think, you know. Sort this out.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. You take whatever time you need.¡± My voice is casual, but I feel like I¡¯ve been punched. Clearly, we were expecting very different things out of this rtionship if this was how she reacted to people finding out about us. And here I thought things were going well? That we might have a future together?


    She gives me a nod, like we¡¯ve finished this discussion, and heads to the door. She stops and nces back at me over her shoulder. Her eyes are hesitant. ¡°So I¡¯ll talk to youter?¡±


    ¡°You know where to find me.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Well¡­ See you soon, Oliver.¡±


    I nod. My office door swings shut behind her and I¡¯m left in reeling silence. It only takes her a moment or two to disappear down the stairs.


    Fucking hell.


    What just happened?


    It takes me a solid half-hour to get my bearings back enough to return to the spa. Logan is sitting on one of the benches in the sauna, ying around with the settings to the new stove.


    He looks up. ¡°Took you long enough.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±¡±No beers?¡±


    ¡°Shit. No, no beers.¡±


    Logan frowns. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve taken a hit, man.¡±


    I sigh and sit down next to him. ¡°Lucy was just here.¡±


    ¡°Damn! Did she see this?¡±


    ¡°No. She wanted to talk.¡±


    Logan leans back. ¡°Ah.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±¡±And it didn¡¯t go well?¡±

 Chapter 63

    I shake my head. ¡°No, it absolutely did not.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±


    ¡°Not particrly, no.¡±


    Logan nods. ¡°Then we won¡¯t. Let¡¯s finish up this, and after we¡¯re done, I¡¯ll take you to the Red g for dinner and beer.¡±


    ¡°Make that bourbon and we have a deal.¡±


    It takes us a couple of hours to finish. The sauna we¡¯ve built isrge, with double-deck benches and a massive electric stove. The ss door is frosted and swings beautifully on newly oiled hinges.


    My sister will freak out, I know that much, but I have no idea what Lucy will think. Not anymore.


    Logan and I drive in silence down to town. Weariness and tiredness chase one another; I want a burger and fries, I want alcohol, and I want to forget.


    I¡¯ve learned the hard way, though, that thest one is never as simple as people think. You can¡¯t drown your demons, just as surely as you can¡¯t outrun them.


    The parking lot outside of the Red g is nearly empty when Logan and I arrive, but that¡¯s not surprising. It¡¯s a Sunday afternoon, and people don¡¯t go to the Red g on Sunday afternoons. This town runs like clockwork.


    ¡°Oliver Morris!¡±


    I know even without turning around who it is. The voice is familiar-it would be to anyone in this town. Lord knows I heard it often enough as a child, in church and in school.


    ¡°Good evening, Mrs. Masters.¡±


    She stops a few feet away from me, her purse tucked tight under her arm. She shoots Logan a brief nce.


    He gets the message. ¡°I¡¯ll be inside, man.¡±


    I nod. Mrs. Masters continues to look at me imploringly, and fuck, it¡¯s probably my turn to make small talk, but I can¡¯t think of a single thing to say. This day has been awful enough already.


    ¡°Can I help you with anything?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s something I think you should know.¡± Mrs. Masters takes a step closer, her voice dropping. ¡°The Rhodes girl? I saw Gavin Whittaker talk to her yesterday at that silly fountain event. I don¡¯t know what was said, but she ran away in tears.¡±


    Anger res through my body, making my fist clench. The fucker.


    I should have known. I¡¯ve been an idiot, yet again.


    ¡°Do you know what he said?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not hard to imagine, Mr. Morris. Gavin has been spending a lot of time gossiping this weekend, and none of itplimentary.¡±


    For a moment, all I can do is blink at her. Never in my thirty-three years have I known Mrs. Masters to be helpful, not like this. Where is thising from? Is she on my side?


    She shakes her head at me with a disapproving frown, suddenly transformed back into the woman I remember. ¡°Don¡¯t look so surprised. I¡¯ve never cared much for Whittaker boy.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±¡±Make this right, son. I don¡¯t want her to move away.¡± She gives me a farewell nod. ¡°She knows my order by heart now.¡±


    And then she¡¯s gone, walking down the sidewalk with her purse still tucked tight against her side to ward off any potential robbers.


    Wow.


    If Mrs. Master¡¯s intervention is surprising, the information she shared sure isn¡¯t. Of course Gavin swooped in, like a circling vulture, right when the innocent gossip started. Lucy doesn¡¯t deserve his crap. Now I just have to figure out what to do about it.


    I push open the door to the Red g and head towards Logan. He pushes a pint across the table to me. ¡°I¡¯ve ordered bacon burgers for both of us.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, man.¡±


    ¡°What did she want?¡±


    I tell him everything. It¡¯s more than I would usually share, but in this situation, I want all the help I can get. If I¡¯m going to solve this with Lucy, I¡¯m going to have to be more open andmunicative than I¡¯ve ever been before. It hasn¡¯t exactly been my strong suit in the past.N?vel(D)rama.Org''s content.


    Logan takes a sip of his beer. ¡°So people in town know about you two, and now she¡¯s freaked? That¡¯s essentially it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±He shakes his head. ¡°Look, man. If you have a shot at happiness, you need to take it. Chances like this don¡¯te around too often.¡±


    ¡°I want to take it, but I don¡¯t think pushing her on this is a good idea. She asked for time and space, whatever that means.¡±


    ¡°Did she really mean that, though? It sounds to me like she was scared. Came to you for reassurance, and you sure as hell didn¡¯t give her any. She asked for time-not to call it off.¡±


    I lean back and look at him. My second-inmand, the brother who pulled me out of more dangerous situations than I care to remember. Logan¡¯s never given me anything but the truth, the way he saw it.


    He looks back at me. The circles under his eyes have lessened, I realize. He¡¯s doing better.


    ¡°You can re at me all you want,¡± he says. ¡°I¡¯m still right.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll be damned, but you are. I was an ass.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±Not for the first time, I might add. Shit.¡±


    Logan smiles. ¡°Not surprised to hear it. Just like I¡¯m not surprised Gavin¡¯s name came up again.¡±


    ¡°The things he said to her¡­ I need to know what it was.¡±


    He pulls a face. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can imagine.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, I need to know.¡±


    He pushes away the remainder of his food. ¡°Let¡¯s find out, then. Where might he be on an evening like this?¡±


    ¡°Usually here.¡± I drain thest of my beer. ¡°This is where he always is. Just my luck-the one time I actually want to see his smug face.¡±


    Logan nods to a table in the corner. ¡°Aren¡¯t those the same guys he was here withst time?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. They must havee in after us.¡±


    ¡°Well, if they¡¯re here, he shouldn¡¯t be far away.¡± Logan shifts so that he¡¯s further back in the booth, half-hiding in the dim lighting. I move so that I¡¯m sitting beside him. The bar is loud and familiar, but it feels like new territory as we watch it in silence. It¡¯s nearly empty apart from the booth with Gavin¡¯s friends and a familiar couple swaying to an old country song.

 Chapter 64

    We don¡¯t have to wait long before he shows up. He¡¯s wearing a wide smile and nods to the bartender. His lips are easy to read. The usual. I rise out of my seat to make sure Gavin doesn¡¯t make it to his.


    I block him off with an arm on the bar. His eyebrows rise in surprise, but he doesn¡¯t nch.


    ¡°Morris.¡±


    ¡°Evening, Whittaker.¡± I make my voice low, smooth. ¡°Here to grab a drink?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Gavin¡¯s eyes narrow slightly, and I¡¯m sure he knows my game. ¡°Care to join?¡±


    I smile-baring my teeth. ¡°Oh, yes. I¡¯d love to hear more about the rumors you¡¯ve spread this weekend.¡±


    ¡°Rumors? I just tell it the way I see it.¡±


    I nod, pretending to y along. ¡°You¡¯re nothing if not a man of truth. What was it you were suspended for back in school? Cheating on your end-of-year exam?¡±


    He shakes his head, a mocking smile on his lips, but I can read the expression in his eyes. He¡¯s furious. ¡°Water under the bridge.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure. As is the time you tried to sabotage the varsity basketball team¡¯s try-outs for the college reps. What was it that time? You tied my shoeces together, right?¡±


    Gavin¡¯s face flushes, and I can¡¯t help but grin. ¡°Didn¡¯t think I knew about that? You¡¯ve been snapping at my heels for as long as I can remember. I just haven¡¯t given you the time of the day until now, because quite frankly, you haven¡¯t been worth it.¡±


    He shakes his head, mouth pursed. ¡°You¡¯re so fucking full of yourself, Morris. You always have been. Did you enjoy being the only thing anyone spoke about for a decade? You must have, since you keep walking around this town like you¡¯re some sort of hero.¡±


    I take a step closer. ¡°And what does that make you? Because from where I¡¯m standing, you¡¯ve only ever been an asshole. What did you say to Lucy yesterday?¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask her, if you two are so close?¡±


    ¡°Tell me. I won¡¯t ask you again.¡±


    He rolls his eyes, like this is beneath him, but I can see the beading of sweat on his forehead. My admissions rattled him-as I intended them to. He didn¡¯t like being reminded of his childhood envy.


    ¡°I told her the truth. That you were with her because it was easy¡­ and all of us here know that. I told her that if she was with me, she would¡¯ve at least gotten paid.¡± He shoots me a sideways nce. ¡°That¡¯s more than I can say for you.¡±


    I¡¯m angry-I¡¯m fucking furious-but I¡¯m in full control. I warned him about this the first time, all those weeks ago, and he didn¡¯t listen.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ve tolerated you for far too long.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±¡±The one hurting from this situation isn¡¯t going to be me, and it sure as hell won¡¯t be Lucy. It¡¯ll be you. How do you think this will go down in the long-run, huh? Will people remember you fondly for talking shit?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll be out of this town before the end of the year.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that. But you?¡± I straighten to my full height, grateful for the three inches I have on the sucker. ¡°You forget your ce.¡±


    ¡°How dare you-¡±


    I punch him.


    It¡¯s a swift, calcted movement. I aim straight for his cheekbone and skim across his nose. It won¡¯t break bone, but it¡¯ll teach him a lesson. And man, does it feel sweet.


    Gavin staggers back. ¡°What the fuck! I don¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°I should have done that a long, long time ago,¡± I say. ¡°Stay far away from Lucy, from my family, my ranch, and if you know what¡¯s good for you, this bar too.¡±


    What is there to do but keep going?


    I might feel like I have a ball of nerves in my stomach, but life doesn¡¯t stop. You get up, you have a shower, you do your hair, and then you try not to think about it. Not about the fact that you¡¯re the talk of the town, and you definitely don¡¯t think about how you¡¯re on the outs with the man who might very possibly be the love of your life. Ignoring your problems is a foolproof strategy.


    When has that ever gone wrong?


    I head down to the bakery on Monday morning with my hair in an borate bun and a bright smile on my face. But despite my best efforts, my charade doesn¡¯t fool my family. My aunt slips an arm around my waist half-way through the morning preparations. ¡°Sweetie, how do you feel? Still ill?¡±


    I shake my head. I had to fake a stomach ache yesterday to exin why I ran away from the fountain unveiling. There was no way I could tell her about the things Gavin had said. I would sink through the floor with shame.


    ¡°I feel much better, thanks.¡±


    ¡°Just let me know if you want to go upstairs and lie down for a bit.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±She turns up the radio and start singing along loudly, and slightly out of tune, to an old eighties song. She bumps my hip when she passes me by. It¡¯s obvious she¡¯s trying to get me to feel better, and I can¡¯t help butugh at her exaggerated dance moves.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to give up, are you?¡±


    ¡°Nope. Come on, you have to sing too.¡±


    ¡°Have to?¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a new policy, I just implemented it. It¡¯s across the board, you know. Applicable for all employees.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m your only employee.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±She grabs a spat and uses it as a microphone, singing along to ¡°It¡¯s Raining Men¡± with such zeal that I have to give up. I grab another spat and join her in the chorus. When the song ends we¡¯re sweaty and smiling, and I have to admit that I feel much better.


    I flip the sign on the front door from closed to open with steadier hands. There will undoubtedly be morements, but I should be strong enough to handle them.


    We¡¯re adults, I think. Oliver and I are allowed to do whatever we want.


    The thought of him brings pain to my chest. He¡¯d looked so aloof in his office on Saturday, miles and miles away. He didn¡¯t seem to think what I said was a big deal at all. Maybe he didn¡¯t really see us as being in a rtionship, anyway.


    Old Mr. Ronson is the first customer of the day. His cardigan is properly buttoned all the way down the front, his light chinos perfectly pressed.


    ¡°Good morning, dear.¡±


    ¡°Good morning! The usual?¡±


    ¡°Yes, please. The bagels with extra-¡±


    ¡°Sesame seeds.¡± I shoot him a smile. ¡°I remember.¡±


    Heughs as he hands me the change. ¡°You¡¯ve got a good memory.¡±

 Chapter 65

    Nothing in his manner has changed, and it doesn¡¯t seem like he considers me the whore of Babylon. I take a deep breath after he leaves, my hands braced the counter. I can do this. All that matters is that I know my worth.


    Gavin¡¯s words are hard to dismiss, but I have to try.


    One after one, people filter into the bakery. I look up in anticipation every time the little bell jingles. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m hoping for more-that it¡¯s not one of the gossiping women from yesterday, or that it¡¯s Oliver.


    I don¡¯t know what to do if it¡¯s the former, and I have no idea what to say if it¡¯s thetter. I was the one who asked for time and space. He¡¯s an honorable man-he¡¯ll respect it, I know he will, even if I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s what I want anymore.


    I¡¯m sneaking a sip from my coffee cup when the bell jingles again. Mrs. Masters steps into the bakery. She¡¯s unusuallyte this morning, but she looks just as put together as always.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    I smile at her. ¡°Good morning. Nice weather we have today.¡±


    ¡°Yes, quite.¡± She narrows her eyes at me, examining me from top to toe, and I can just imagine what she¡¯s thinking. I¡¯m sure I¡¯m breaking health code vitions left and right in her eyes.


    ¡°I like what you¡¯ve done with your hair, Lucy.¡±


    What? ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She orders her usual loaf and a slice of rye bread, and I package it for her like I¡¯ve done every morning since I got here. Her arrival is like clockwork, as reliable as her constant air of disapproval. What made herte today? I¡¯m as curious as the gossipingdies at Ricky¡¯s.


    She fixes me with a piercing gaze. ¡°People talk,¡± she says. ¡°They will always talk. Don¡¯t let them win, girl.¡±


    I blink in surprise. To my utter mortification, emotion wells up in my throat and makes it hard to speak. This was thest thing I expected. ¡°Thank you,¡± I say.


    She nods and leaves, setting off in her usual brisk pace down Main Street. Wow. Now I¡¯ve seen everything. Mrs. Masters-the Mrs. Masters-is on my side. So is my aunt, who made it clear yesterday that it doesn¡¯t matter what people think. Mandy¡¯s on my side. My uncle, too.


    I don¡¯t need the approval of the whole town. I just need the approval of the people around me. Who is Gavin to talk, anyhow? No one invited him to the conversation.


    I package a few bags of chocte chip cookies and nod to myself. He was decidedly not invited, and I shouldn¡¯t take hisments too seriously. He is an asshole.


    Oliver clearly cares for me more than just someone he has easy ess to. So what if some of the prissydies in this town think something untoward is going on? I¡¯ll prove them wrong.


    I just need to ride out this storm. I could run, but what would be the point? I already fled from Das. I couldn¡¯t flee remont, too.


    Uncle Philes back from his morning rounds with a cheery smile and a wave. He kisses ire on the cheek and hangs his cap on the hook by the door.


    ¡°Did everything go alright?¡± ire asks, like she does every day.


    ¡°Sure did,¡± he responds-same as always. ¡°Although I did hear some gossip.¡±


    Oh no.


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±Yes, and for once, I¡¯m the one with information. Are you listening too, Luce?¡±


    I look up from the folder with orders, my stomach in a knot of nerves. I know what he¡¯s going to say. Please don¡¯t let it be too crude. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°So, apparently, there was a fightst night at the Red g.¡±


    ire sighs. ¡°Those Timothy boys again? They really shouldn¡¯t let them-¡±


    Phil shakes his head. ¡°Nope. And calling it a fight is a bit generous, perhaps. But Oliver Morris hit Gavin Whittaker. Punched him right in the face, right there in the bar.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±¡±Yes. Apparently, there¡¯s some¡­ well.¡± He scratches his head and shoots me a sheepish look. ¡°Maybe you know more about that than me. But the argument seemed to be about you, Luce.¡±


    ¡°About me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but don¡¯t worry,¡± he hurries, seeing the expression on my face. ¡°Everyone knows that those two have had it out for one another since childhood. Well, Gavin has, at any rate.¡±


    I¡¯m struck dumb. Oliver punched Gavin. He¡¯s been wanting to for a long time, yes, but at the moment¡­ There¡¯s only one reason for that. He knows about the rumors, then. He properly knows.


    My aunt sees my expression, and in a second, she¡¯s by my side.


    ¡°Phil, honey, can you watch the shop for a few minutes?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. Of course. Anything you need.¡±


    ire pulls me up on the stairs and into my studio. The second she closes the door behind us, I¡¯m pacing across the floor.


    ¡°Why would he do that? Why wouldn¡¯t hee to talk to me first?¡±


    ire sits down on my couch. ¡°What did you say to him earlier?¡±


    ¡°I asked him for space. Ugh, I¡¯m such an idiot. I feel like I¡¯ve mishandled this from start to finish. But why doesn¡¯t he talk to me? He said he didn¡¯t care that people knew, and now it seems like he does.¡±


    My aunt holds up a hand. ¡°Luce, sweetheart,e sit here.¡±


    I force myself to still and sink down on the couch beside her. I cross my legs dramatically, my heart beating wildly. He hit Gavin.


    ¡°Oliver is a great guy. Truly, he¡¯s a great man. That doesn¡¯t mean he¡¯s infallible.¡±


    ¡°Damn near close, those,¡± I murmur and bury my head in my hands. ¡°Do you know what people are saying around town?¡±


    Her eyes darken. ¡°I can imagine. I can also imagine that whatever Gavin did to deserve Oliver¡¯s anger would likely make me furious. Oliver isn¡¯t the type to lose control, sweetheart. I¡¯m sure Gavin deserved it.¡±


    I take a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m not sure remont is ready for a massage therapist.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Luce, of course it is. And if it isn¡¯t, you¡¯ll make it ready. Haven¡¯t a ton of people from town already booked sessions?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±And your yoga sses are almost full.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re right. It¡¯s just the talk that-¡±


    Her arm around my shoulders is firm. ¡°People here might be judgmental, but they¡¯re also the first to admit when they¡¯re wrong about something. Stay here long enough, and you¡¯ll see that. People here would take a bullet for each other, and they will for you too.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°Do you like it here?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±Do you like Oliver?¡±

 Chapter 66

    ¡°Yes. I think he likes me too, but we¡¯ve never properly said it.¡±


    ireughs. ¡°My dear, with men, it¡¯s more about their actions than their words. What, do you think Phil was always this open and cheery? I had to drag it out of him.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±¡±Really. Oliver might not have said it¡­ but has he shown it?¡±


    I think of the many times he bought us food from Ricky¡¯s because he couldn¡¯t cook. His arm around me on the porch as the sun set across the meadow. The dedication he¡¯d put in to getting the spa started, listening to all my suggestions and even making a few of his own. Soft kisses and strong arms wrapped around my waist after my shifts. His deep voice, sending shivers down my spine, whispering to mete at night.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I murmur. ¡°He¡¯s shown it.¡±


    ¡°Then what are you waiting for?¡±


    I grab my bag. ¡°Is it okay if I take my break now?¡±


    ¡°Honey, take the day. Go get him.¡±This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever biked faster in my life.


    The way up to Morris Ranch is familiar to me now as the back of my hand, but it feels entirely new this time. I turn right on the winding road up to Morris Ranch, pastrge cornfields, the dust spraying from my tires as I pedal.


    Large potted nts have been ced by the sign. Huge hydrangeas, flowering in varying shades of pink. Wedding season is well and truly upon us.


    I swing a leg over my bike and slid to a stop outside the farmhouse. More hydrangeas have been ced on every step and the gold sign for Reception has been polished to perfection. Despite having been here nearly every day for the past two months, it¡¯s like I¡¯m seeing all of it with new eyes. I don¡¯t want to leave this ce-I want to help build it. I want the life I¡¯ve created here.


    Some storms are worth weathering.


    I kick down the bike stand and leave it unlocked. Oliver should be in his office. My heart is a jackhammer in my chest, alternating between nerves and adrenaline.


    Mandy smiles when she sees me. ¡°You look determined.¡±


    ¡°I am. Do you know where Oliver is?¡±


    ¡°Ah, so you¡¯re that kind of determined. He¡¯s helping Sarah, I think, out on the ranch.¡± She frowns. ¡°They¡¯ve been in and out all day, actually, preparing for the wedding. I don¡¯t know exactly where he is.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, I¡¯ll look around.¡±


    ¡°Promise you¡¯ll fill me inter?¡±


    ¡°You bet. I¡¯ll bring cookies!¡±


    She grins and shoots me a thumbs-up. Somewhere on the ranch, then. I have no idea what to say when I find him. All I know is that I don¡¯t want to lose him, and that I need to apologize for freaking out like that. So what if people talk?


    Oliver¡¯s not in the barn, nor in the eastern row of cabins. I ask Jack and Tim, but they don¡¯t know either. ¡°Have you checked the stables?¡±


    I haven¡¯t. I push my hair back and walk towards the low, brown building. It¡¯s thest ce I haven¡¯t checked, besides the spa.


    A child¡¯s voice echoes on the path. ¡°Why can¡¯t we stay, Mommy? Please?¡±


    ¡°We have to go get more of the-Oh! Hi.¡± Sarah stops dead, Nora on her hip. ¡°Lucy.¡±


    ¡°Hi.¡± I give her a tentative smile. With her connections around town, there¡¯s no doubt in my mind that she¡¯s already heard the rumors about her brother and me. ¡°Have you seen Oliver?¡±


    ¡°Well, erm, no. Yes. He¡¯s not here.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where he is?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s out, but he¡¯ll be backter?¡± Her eyes dart from me to the house behind me, and my courage sinks. Ah. Nora looks at her mother with narrowed eyes, her mouth opening in protest. I would bet my yearly sry that Oliver¡¯s here.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to see me, does he?¡± I sigh. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard, Sarah, and I never meant for this to be turned into some¡­ some stupid rumor. That his reputation should be-¡±


    She shakes her head. ¡°Oh, Luce, reputation schmeputation. I love both of you and want you to be happy. I couldn¡¯t give a rat¡¯s a-erm, behind about what some people think. They¡¯lle around, or they won¡¯t. That¡¯s their problem.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Sarah.¡±


    She puts a hand on my arm, her blue eyes soft. They¡¯re the same as Oliver¡¯s, the only feature they share. ¡°I can think of no one I want to see my brother with more. He¡¯s something special, Lucy. I hope you¡¯ll have patience with him.¡±


    ¡°I will, if he promises to be patient with me. He is here, though, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be furious with me, but what the heck. Yes. He¡¯s in the barn.¡±


    ¡°Why will he be furious? He doesn¡¯t want to see me?¡±


    ¡°He had something nned, and I¡¯m ruining it.¡± She shakes her head with a grin. ¡°Whoops. Go on, head inside. You two need to talk.¡±


    I kiss Nora¡¯s head and thank Sarah, hurrying down the path to the barn. Sarah is on our side, too, apparently. Gavin seems more and more like the outlier.


    I pause with a hand on the door. What should I say?


    He¡¯s heard about the rumors. They¡¯re embarrassing, humiliating to my very core. I¡¯ll have to tell him that and exin my reaction. I have to tell him that I care for him more than I ever thought I would. And that while it might take some time for me to getfortable with everyone¡¯s gossiping, I¡¯ll get there.


    I hear a voice through the barn door. It¡¯s familiar, rich and deep, speaking in soft tones. Oliver is talking to one of the horses.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be alright, boy,¡± he murmurs. ¡°Shh, you¡¯ll be alright.¡±


    My throat closes up. I¡¯m not an unruly horse, but the reassuring lilt to his voice is enough to soothe me too. He might be the strongest, most selfless man I¡¯ve ever met. Listening to him calm the mare, I know he¡¯ll make a great father. He might not believe it, but he will. The image of a faceless woman in his arms shes through my mind and irrational jealousy unfurls in my stomach. He deserves happiness, he deserves a family, and he deserves love.


    And I deserve that too.


    I take a step forward.


    Ginger tosses her head back and lets out a loud whinny. One brown eye swivels towards something in the distance.


    It¡¯s Lucy.


    She¡¯s framed by the barn doors, small inparison to their height. Her hair is up. She looks¡­ restrained. Hesitant.


    Damn.


    ¡°Hi. I¡¯ve been looking for you.¡±

 Chapter 67

    I back away from Ginger¡¯s box stall. Whatever she¡¯se here to say, I can¡¯t let her say it. Please, dear God, don¡¯t let it be toote.


    ¡°I¡¯m d you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Really? I just met Sarah, and she made it seem like you wanted to be left alone.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t. Come, let me show you something.¡± For a long, nerve-wracking moment, I¡¯m not sure if she¡¯ll take my hand, but then she grasps it and gives me a small smile.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    I pull her along, out from the stables and into the bright July sun. She feels right next to me like this-walking together, in full view of any staff or guests that might see us, our hands interwoven. Together.


    Lucy shoots me a surprised nce.


    ¡°People already know,¡± I say. ¡°And we have nothing to hide.¡±


    ¡°Do you really feel that way?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± There¡¯s a steel band of nerves across my chest. The idea that she might walk away from this ce, away from me¡­ I have to stop it from happening.


    Lucy is quiet beside me, but her hand is gripping mine back firmly. It gives me hope, warring with the fear inside.


    She stops dead as soon as the spaes into view.


    ¡°You did this?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±Oliver¡­¡±


    The entrance to the spa is transformed. I ordered a gold-ted sign weeks ago and it finally arrived. Spa and Wellness Center. It¡¯s a bit grand, perhaps, but it matches the sign for reception. Sarah put in the same massive pots of hydrangeas that we have by the main house. The bench is newly painted.


    I pull her forward. ¡°Come on, look inside.¡±


    The yoga studio has a new coat of paint. I¡¯d left the double-doors to the back open, so there¡¯s a clear view of the pic table I¡¯d ced in the meadow beyond. There¡¯s a pic basket there, too.


    Lucy doesn¡¯t speak-all she does is stare. I have no idea what she¡¯s thinking.


    ¡°It was meant to be a surprise. Sarah was going to whisk you away as soon as your shift ended in the bakery. A few things aren¡¯t quite finished yet.¡±This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    She swallows audibly. ¡°But I beat you to it.¡±


    ¡°Yes. You¡¯re one step ahead of me, like usual.¡±


    Lucyes to a stop again when she sees the ss door in the corner. ¡°No¡­ what¡¯s that? No way.¡±


    Oh yes, baby. ¡°Take a look.¡±


    She opens the door with soft, reverent hands and peers inside. The look on her face makes everything worth it-the splinters, the long hours, Logan¡¯s promises of retribution.


    ¡°You built a sauna?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±¡±In one weekend?¡±


    ¡°I had a bit of help.¡±


    Lucy stares at me, and for a long moment, I lose myself in her gaze. See me, I think. This is how much I need you in my life.


    Her eyes fill with tears, and the panic in my chest explodes. This can¡¯t be happening. I reach out and pull her closer. She doesn¡¯t protest, leaning in to rest her cheek against my chest. It¡¯s time to fight.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give up on us, Lucy. The rumors are idle talk. I¡¯ll fight them all if I have to.¡± I run a hand down her back. ¡°This isn¡¯t Das. This isn¡¯t the same.¡±


    I tip her head back gently. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. ¡°You¡¯re afraid,¡± I murmur. ¡°I understand. The things that some people might be implying¡­ it¡¯s beneath this town, and it¡¯s beneath us.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t scare you away?¡±


    It hurts me that she would think such a thing-that what happened at her old job continues to haunt her. I run my thumb over her cheek and wish I was good with words. That I knew the right thing to say.


    All I have is the truth.


    ¡°They don¡¯t know us, Lucy. They don¡¯t know us at all.¡±


    She presses her lips to mine. The touch is achingly sweet, our bodies barely touching. I can¡¯t tell if she¡¯s kissing me goodbye or not, but if she is, I¡¯ll be damned if I let her.


    I slide my hands down her shoulders and deepen the kiss. Her soft lips open and lets me in, and I¡¯m rewarded by her soft sigh of pleasure. She feels like heaven in my arms and I never want to let her go.


    ¡°Stay,¡± I tell her. ¡°Stay in remont. We¡¯ll face the rumors together. They¡¯ll pass, Lucy. They always do.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Oliver. We¡¯re so silly.¡±


    ¡°We are?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She grabs the front of my shirt, her smile widening. ¡°Do you know why I came up here today? To tell you that I don¡¯t care what people say about us. That I want you more than I¡¯ve ever wanted anything. I came to apologize.¡±


    ¡°What do you have to be sorry about?¡±


    ¡°For getting spooked.¡±


    I bend to kiss her again, relief and happiness sweeping through my body. We¡¯re both breathless when we finally break apart. I grin and reach down, grabbing her thighs to lift her up.


    Lucy smiles and wraps her arms around my neck. ¡°Oliver?¡±


    I carry her out to the pic table. ¡°Baby, if we have to apologize every time one of us gets spooked, that¡¯s all we¡¯ll be doing.¡±


    Her giggle is sweet in my ear. ¡°Did you really prepare all this for us? For today?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I sit down on the bench and fit her on myp. I never want to let her go, not today, not ever. ¡°About what Gavin said¡­¡± I shake my head. ¡°It wasn¡¯t true. None of it.¡±


    Her eyes are warm. ¡°I know that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m truly sorry about the reason why you had toe to remont, but Luce, I¡¯ll never be sorry that you ended up here.¡±

 Chapter 68

    Her smile is wide. ¡°You know what, funnily enough, I¡¯m not either.¡±


    I see a sudden sh of grey and white in my peripheral view, followed by two paws on the edge of the table. Dark eyes are glued to the pic basket and a pink nose twitches.


    ¡°Down, buddy.¡±


    Austin drops to the ground and trots over to us. He lies down with a sigh, looking very innocent, but I can see that his eyes keep flicking to the basket and the goods inside.


    Lucy reaches over to open it. ¡°What¡¯s in here?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you know¡­ A bit of everything.¡±


    ¡°No way. Is this the Morris special from Ricky¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He almost had a heart attack when I ordered it, I think. I wanted to remind you of how we met.¡±


    ¡°And toffee cookies? They can¡¯t be from the bakery?¡±


    ¡°They sure are. I might have had some help.¡±


    ¡°Mhm¡­ but the ice tea?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all me.¡± I put my hand on her hip and smooth my thumb over her waist. It¡¯s impossible to have her this close and not want to touch her. When she looks over at me, her smile fades, struck by my sudden seriousness.


    ¡°Thank you, Lucy.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±¡±For believing in me.¡±


    She kisses me softly, her lips just barely brushing across mine. ¡°No, Oliver,¡± she murmurs. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Epilogue


    Several yearster


    My father liked to say that ¡®life is tough, and then you die.¡¯ It was his motto for most things-for enduring hardship, for carrying on in the face of trouble. For epting that things are rarely perfect.


    I¡¯d said that a lot, too. I¡¯d believed it. But I¡¯ve learned something new. Between the tough times and death, you give it everything you have. You take the bad, but you make damn sure you search for the good, too. And when you find it, you don¡¯t let it go without a fight.This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    Because life is all of the above. It¡¯s about facing terrible odds and surviving in spite of them, but it¡¯s also about taking risks. About being brave enough to love, despite the potential for pain. It¡¯s about being true to who you are regardless of what people say. I think that Lucy taught me that, but whenever I mention it to her, she insists on correcting me. ¡®We learned it together,¡± she likes to say. The years have been good for us.


    They¡¯ve been good to the ranch, too. We¡¯re busier than ever, currently undergoing our second expansion. It¡¯s an expansion I¡¯ve been working towards for half of my life.


    Sarah frowns at the bouquet she¡¯s arranging. ¡°Do you think this needs more hydrangeas?¡±


    ¡°Sarah, they¡¯re not going to notice.¡±


    ¡°But I want it to be perfect.¡±


    I squeeze her shoulders. ¡°They¡¯re noting in search of perfection. They¡¯reing to heal.¡±


    The swing doors to the kitchen open and Sophia marches in. She¡¯s carrying an electronic tablet and wearing the scowl she¡¯s recently adopted, reminding us all that she¡¯s rapidly approaching her teenage years.


    ¡°What¡¯s Aunt Lucy doing?


    ¡°She¡¯s out by the wellness center,¡± I say. ¡°You could go and see if she needs any help.¡±


    Sophia jumps up on one of the stools. ¡°In that case, Nora¡¯s already with her, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Then where¡¯s Theo?¡±


    Sophia shrugs and bends over her tablet, lost to the world of electronics. Well then.


    Sarah sends me a fond smile. ¡°He¡¯s probably with his mother.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but-¡±


    Austines sprinting in through the backdoor. My son is running at full speed after him, arms outstretched. ¡°Doggy!¡±


    I scoop down and catch him around the waist. He squirms a bit at first but settles as soon as he realizes he¡¯s not going anywhere. Baleful green eyes turn on me.


    ¡°Doggy?¡±


    I look down at Austin. He¡¯s panting on the floor next to me. He¡¯s not as quick as he used to be and grey peppers the fur around his nose.


    ¡°Doggy¡¯s tired,¡± I tell Theo. ¡°He needs to rest for a bit.¡±


    I scratch Austin behind the ear and his tail wags slowly against the floor. My first and truestpanion. There was a time, right when I got back stateside, when he was all that got me out of bed in the morning. I n on draining an entire bottle of whiskey the day he has to be put down.


    Sophia puts away her tablet. ¡°I¡¯ll keep himpany. Can I give him his treats?¡±


    ¡°Sure. You know where they are?¡±


    Sarah smiles at us. ¡°I¡¯ll show her. Go find your wife.¡±


    ¡°Are you giving me orders now?¡±


    She tsks. ¡°I can tell you¡¯re nervous, and she¡¯ll calm you down. Come here, baby.¡± She stretches her arms out for Theo, but I shake my head.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring him with me, I think.¡±


    She musses up his golden hair, and heughs, the high and innocentughter of a small child. I smile at the sound. It¡¯s a good thing he¡¯s cute, because he can be a little devil, too.


    We head out towards the wellness center. Theo is calm in my arms for approximately four seconds before he begins to squirm again.


    ¡°Horsey?¡±


    ¡°No, not right now.¡±


    He frowns, but his disappointment is short-lived. ¡°Tractors?¡±

 Chapter 69

    I grin at him. ¡°I know your game, buddy. No, we¡¯re not going to the horses, or the tractors, or the cars. We¡¯re going to see your mother.¡±


    His squeal is energetic, his little legs pedaling in the air. ¡°Go, go!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going, buddy.¡± I hoist him up in a tighter grip. ¡°Patience is a virtue.¡±


    He pushes back his blond tresses in frustration, clearly unfamiliar with the concept of virtues. We better get on that, I suppose. He¡¯s falling behind his toddler education. ¡°We need to cut your hair, too. Maybe Mom can do it.¡±


    Theo sighs and goes limp in my arms, in the way only a three-year old can. A few months ago, I would have asked him if he was tired. But I¡¯m an experienced man now. I know that asking that question inevitably leads to determined denials of the very fact.


    I pull him closer, my left hand gripping his thigh. A ray of sunshine hits the wedding band on my finger. Lucy epted my proposal four months before she graduated and received her physical therapy license.


    I give Theo a little bounce in my arms. ¡°And just in the nick of time, too, buddy?¡±


    He doesn¡¯t respond, the rascal, the child I never knew I needed in my life. Now I can¡¯t imagine our lives without him. Lucy has helped me with that, of course, like she helped me with everything. She¡¯d taken to motherhood like a pro-not that I¡¯d been surprised. Then, somehow, she¡¯d managed to handle my fears too.


    Theo gives a great sigh and I press a kiss to his forehead. ¡°Did you have fun with your cousin Nora earlier?¡±


    He nods, but he looks thoughtful. I recognize the pout.


    ¡°Did she say no to letting you ride again?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s not fair.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll get to ride when you¡¯re older, buddy. I¡¯ll teach you.¡± It¡¯s an answer he¡¯s heard before, and it clearly doesn¡¯t impress him, because he sighs again.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± I tell him. The spa has grown considerably in the past few months. It¡¯s been a long renovation process, but it¡¯s all been worth it. We added another yoga studio and two more treatment rooms. It has all the space and equipment necessary for a functioning wellness center. Lucy doesn¡¯t know it yet, but I¡¯ve put in an order for a chiropractic table. I know she¡¯s hoping to hire someone.


    But the crowning achievement¡­ well, that¡¯s the meeting room and the recreational area outside that Logan and I had a hand in designing. Mandy, now his wife, had helped us photograph it all for the website and our brochures.


    It¡¯s all about to be put to the test.


    Loud, cheery music greets us from the double-doors. A faint voice is singing along, slightly off-key.


    Theo squeals and I put him down on the path. He races ahead on chubby little legs, climbing the stairs with practiced ease.


    Lucy¡¯s preparing wee bags, a scarf tying her long hair back. There¡¯s a permanent tan on her features now from the long weeks in the sun. Faint freckles paint a pattern down her nose and shoulders, disappearing underneath her shirt. I know they continue much further than that, though, because I regrly use them as a roadmap.


    Lucy¡¯s face shines up when she sees Theo. ¡°Hi, sweetie. Have youe to help Mommy?¡±


    She swings him up onto her hip, smiling at hisughter. Her smile grows warmer when she sees me. ¡°Hey.¡±


    ¡°Hi, baby.¡± I lean across our son and press a kiss to her lips. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°Nervous. Excited. When will Logan be here?¡±


    ¡°He should be here within the hour. He¡¯s driving Dr. Green, actually.¡±


    She nods again. ¡°Perfect. I¡¯m so looking forward to meeting him.¡±


    I know I¡¯ll get a share of the credit, but the whole thing was actually her idea, whispered to me one night in bed nearly two years ago.


    What if we open this ce up to veterans?


    It had taken time.


    Time to get thework in ce, time to register with the Texas Veteran¡¯s Association. I¡¯d spent a lot of time getting involved in the existingworks and re-establishing contact with my old team. Logan had been a huge help.


    It had taken a lot of sessions with the therapist and a lot of work to get where I am now. Nightmares are infrequent, and when they happen, I know how to handle them. My mood is more stable. I still don¡¯t like small talk, but at least I don¡¯t scare people away anymore.


    If I can help others get to where I am, it¡¯ll all have been worth it.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to go great,¡± she murmurs. ¡°Are you nervous?¡±This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    Truth be told, I am. It¡¯s the good kind, though. The kind of nervous you are before you¡¯re about to take the plunge, to embark on a new journey.


    The kind of nervous you are when you know that what you¡¯re doing matters.


    I smooth a thumb over her cheek. ¡°I am. But I have you, and I have my family. I¡¯m not lost anymore.¡±


    Her eyes soften. ¡°You never were.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I was.¡± I kiss Theo¡¯s forehead. ¡°And that¡¯s okay. But I¡¯m not anymore. And maybe, just maybe, we can help these guys find their way too.¡±


    Theo starts to squirm and Lucy sets him down. He immediately ambles towards the perfectly stacked yoga mats, colorful and pretty.


    ¡°He¡¯s going to destroy that,¡± I warn.


    ¡°I know. That¡¯s okay.¡± She wraps her arms around my neck, the way she does sometimes when she¡¯s about to tell me that she loves me. It¡¯s one of my favorite things.


    ¡°Hi,¡± I murmur.¡±I¡¯m so proud of you.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    Her eyes twinkle. ¡°The only way to stop the past from haunting you is to deal with it. You helped teach me that. I know you¡¯ll help others learn the very same lesson.¡±


    ¡°Have I ever told you I love you?¡±


    ¡°Once or twice,¡± she says, smiling. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure.¡±


    ¡°No? Well, let me remind you, then.¡± I kiss her soundly, murmuring it against her lips. ¡°I love you.¡±


    Lucy¡¯s hands slide into my hair as she deepens the kiss. I¡¯m a goner. I always was, around her, and there¡¯s nothing that could tear me away from her. The world around us might as well not even exist. There¡¯s nothing at all-


    There¡¯s a crash.


    Lucy and I break apart and turn in unison towards our son.


    Theo has yed domino with the yoga mats, sending them out in a tumble across the floor. He blinks up at us, an uncertain smile on his face. ¡°Whoops?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, buddy. We¡¯ll stack them up again,¡± I say. ¡°Here, let me help you.¡±


    ***


    Thank you so much for reading Broken Hero!


    I hope you enjoyed Oliver and Lucy¡¯s story.


    Read on for a special sneak peek of Arrogant Boss, an office romance between a strong-willed heroine and her persistent, billionaire boss¡­


    Julian Hunt might be my favorite hero to date!


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!