Heather turned her chair backwards and straddled it with her arms folded across its back, drumming her fingers on her forearm. Her mother regarded her with narrowed eyes and lips pressed into a thin line but said nothing about her daughter’s casual posture. It was petty of her, but Heather was still mad at her family, and she wasn’t about to sit down to a ridiculously formal family meeting without making sure they knew she was here on her terms. She’d been sorely tempted to ditch the planning session—she already knew what she needed to do to make sure the ranch ran smoothly while the rest of the family was away for a week for Curtis’s last match—but Christina had begged her to come.
She glanced from one member of her family to the next. All the adults were present and accounted for—her mother and father, Curtis and Christina, Brock and his wife Anna, her younger sister Brianna and her husband Todd. Her herd of nieces and nephews were outside playing on the jungle gym in plain sight through the dining room’s picture window. All these happy families and here she was, as usual, the odd one out.
When everyone was seated, Lily opened the binder she’d put together. It contained every list, ticket, receipt, agenda, and schedule; everything was planned down to the most minute detail, even the agenda for this meeting. Heather barely refrained from rolling her eyes as her mother read out the plans and checked with each member of the family to make sure they all knew what was expected of them. Thank God she wasn’t going. There was a small prickle of guilt over missing the end of Curtis’s career, but she’d gone to plenty of his other fights, and anyhow, one of them should stay home with Christina. The match was just a week before her due date, and they’d all agreed it would be foolish for her to go.
“Heather? Did you hear me?” Lily asked.
“Yes, Ty is fully aware of the schedule here, and we’ve worked our schedule at the Bar E around it.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“You really think you’ll be able to handle this place by yourself while we’re gone?” Brock asked.
“The first cut of hay will be baled before you leave, there’s no feeding to be done, and arrangements have already been made for moving the irrigation. Even you could handle that on your own.”
They stared at each other across the table, and it was a damned good thing they had all that oak between them.
“I suppose if you get into trouble, you could always call your new boyfriend. He’s good for that at least.”
“He’s a better rancher than you are, that’s for damned sure.”
When Brock shot to his feet, Heather laughed.
“Sit down before you say something else stupid. I’m already far too tempted to break your nose again.” She rose from the table. “If we’re done here, I need to get going.”
“Got a hot date?” Brock sneered.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah, I do.”
“Heather,” her mother sighed. “Couldn’t you wait at least a couple months?”
“Why? To satisfy your opinion of what’s proper? This is the twenty-first century, Mother.”
“You know we don’t approve,” her father said quietly.
“I don’t really give a damn if you do or not.”
The phone rang then, interrupting what surely would’ve been another delightful Brown family war about how much she disappointed her old-fashioned and rigidly “proper” parents. Lily answered it, and Heather lifted her hand in farewell and turned toward the front door.
“Heather. It’s for you.”
Who would be calling her here? She hadn’t lived in this house since she’d left for college twelve years ago. There was only one person she could think of, and she hoped she was wrong. She had no desire to put herself through the pain and doubt talking to him would surely bring. Her mother held the cordless out to her, and grudgingly, she took it.
“Hello?”
“Heather. I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get to talk to you again.”
Yep. Dustin.
Dammit.
“I thought you would’ve figured by now that there’s a reason I haven’t called you back.”
“That’s why I called your parents. I thought they might be able to convince you to talk to me.”
Wow. He really wasn’t right for her. “Looks like I made the right decision if you really believe that.”
“Please, don’t be like that, Heather. I love you. I want to marry you and make a family with you. Is that really so bad?”
She spared her family a scowl, then stepped into the kitchen. Leaning against the island, she pinched her eyes closed and massaged the bridge of her nose as if that could ease the sting of tears. Why was talking to him now so much harder than breaking up with him had been? The answer was obvious—because a part of her did love him—but grappling with that knowledge and the understanding that, even as wonderful and sweet and perfect as he was, there was and always had been something missing from their relationship. Something she absolutely needed in order to give herself fully. The worst part was that she had no idea exactly what it was or how to find it or if it was even possible to find.
“I’m sorry I wasted two years of your life.”
“You didn’t waste anything. Please, Heather. Give me another chance.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t want the same things out of life, and you can’t build a life on a broken foundation.”
“You might change your mind. If you’d just open yourself to the idea….”
It was so similar to what her mother always said that it triggered a rush of anger that burned away the grief. “I am so sick of people assuming they know me better than I know myself, and it’s starting to seriously piss me off.”
“Hey, easy. That’s not what I’m trying to say. Not at all.”
“Isn’t it? I’m thirty years old. I’m pretty sure my maternal alarm would’ve gone off before now if it was going to.”
Silence greeted her from the other end of the line. She could picture him so easily, sitting on the edge of a seat, his handsome face contorted in a frown of anguish and disappointment and his beautiful green eyes so sad. Maybe he’d rake his hand through his dark blond hair as the realization sank in that he wouldn’t be able to convince her to give their relationship a second chance.
She sighed. “I’m not mad at you, and I love you, too—it’d be impossible not to because you’re an amazing man—but I’m not going to change my mind. I’m sorry. Please don’t call me again. Goodbye.”
She pressed the call-end button, set the cordless handset gently on the counter, and snuck out the kitchen door before her family realized she was gone. Undoubtedly her mother, at least, had eavesdropped, and with her heart aching, Lily’s attempts to convince her that she was making a mistake not reconciling with Dustin would force her to break the promise she’d made to herself the night she’d broken Brock’s nose.
Never let them see you cry.
Somehow, she managed to slide in behind the wheel of her truck, start the engine, and drive away from her parents’ house before the tears fell. Unlike the ones that had slipped silently and numbly down her cheeks on her birthday, these came with a swirl of razer-edged emotions.
Damn him. Why couldn’t he just make it easy on them both and let her go?
Ty had. Maybe it had been easier for him because his real love had shown up in Northstar and because they hadn’t been as involved as she and Dustin had been. But Ty also knew her well enough to understand that when her mind was made up, there was no changing it.
Abruptly, she realized she had parked beside Jeremiah’s old Ford in front of the Lazy H’s workshop with no memory of deciding to seek him out or of driving over here. She still had two hours before her date with him, so what was she doing here?
Shutting the engine down, she climbed out of her truck without questioning the subconscious compulsion that had drawn her to him. He was a good friend—he’d proved that on her birthday—and she needed a friend right now. Christina was too much her husband’s wife these days, and Ainsley had her own family, which made spontaneous gab sessions a thing of the past.
As she approached the man door of the shop, she caught the sound of a drill. With her curiosity piqued, she slipped inside without knocking. The shop was well lit, and in the center of it was what appeared to be a shed on wheels. Jeremiah’s blue merle Australian shepherd was sprawled beneath it on the cool concrete, and though he perked his ears when he spotted her, he couldn’t be bothered to greet her. The man himself had his back to her, giving her ample opportunity to observe him. Despite her wrenching conversation with Dustin, she was captivated by the smooth, habitual motions of his body as he screwed a half sheet of corrugated metal siding in place. He wasn’t a big man, but he was proportionally and gracefully built with undeniably masculine lines that made her pulse jump. Desire stretched and purred as she watched the flex and play of muscle beneath his black T-shirt—short-sleeved this time, she noted, realizing he usually wore long-sleeved shirts, even in the heat of summer.
Spying an odd mark peeking from just below the hem of the sleeve on his left arm, she took a step closer, and the movement caught his eye. He jerked in surprise and the drill slipped from his grip, but he caught it and swore. Then he met her gaze and smiled.
“You’re here early.”
“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.” Even though she had.
“It’s all right.”
“What are you working on?”
“A portable office. My side job. Well, so far it’s just a hobby, but I sold the first two I built for almost ten grand each.”
“Impressive. So, this is how you spend your days off?”
“Most of them. And evenings when I have enough energy.”
“Ranch work doesn’t offer too many of those.”
“No, but you won’t hear me complain.” He tilted his head, studying her with narrowed eyes, and she lowered her gaze. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but at the reminder of what had driven her over hear, a lump formed in her throat, and she couldn’t speak around it to tell him she was fine. It was a lie, anyhow.
“I don’t mean to pry, but you look like you’ve been crying.”
The concern in those hazel eyes—why hadn’t she ever noticed how beautiful and kind his eyes were, as rich in color as tea with a sprig of mint brewing in the sun?—invited her to stop trying to be strong and independent and to lean on him and let him help her.
“I just got off the phone with Dustin… and it hurt worse talking to him again than it did to break up with him.” Tears burned her eyes again, and she stubbornly fought them back. “And before you start thinking I regret breaking up with him, I don’t. I’m more sure of it now than I was before. But he’s a great guy, and for a while, I thought he might be the one. But when he pulled out that stupid ring box, I realized he wasn’t. He wants the perfect little family, and that’s just not me. And to call my parents’ house hoping they’d help him convince me otherwise? What the hell?”
The words were coming too fast, so she snapped her mouth closed to stop them. At once, she wanted to find out if she would find comfort and understanding in Jeremiah’s arms as she had on her birthday. And yet, she hesitated. She’d already kissed him twice, and rather passionately, so why did a hug seem so much more intimate?
She knew why. Physical desire was easy—a matter of giving free rein to her body’s wants. Emotional need was something else entirely.
Hesitantly, she took a step toward him and waited to see if he would invite her to come closer. Relief sighed through her when he set his drill on the concrete floor of the shop and opened his arms. She slipped into them, hooked her arms around his waist, and let out a breath.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “If you need more time….”
She shook her head. “I don’t need time. I need this.”
“In that case, why don’t I call it a day and put my tools away so we can head up to the Ramshorn?”
“I don’t want to interrupt your work.”
“This is more important.”
Lowering her head to rest it on his shoulder, she drew a ragged breath and let it out slowly. For the first time, she let herself feel the full pain of her breakup. With Jeremiah’s arms around her, holding her together, she could do it. When he settled his chin on the top of her head, she closed her eyes, and a ghost of a smile curved her lips. This felt good. Better than kissing him. Better than anything she’d felt in quite a while. He was so steady and patient, and he seemed as content to hold her as she was to have him do it.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to let go and let someone help me. A really long time.”
“You’re welcome.”
She could stay right here for the rest of the day, but Murphy finally crawled out from under the trailer and greeted her with his tail stump wiggling enthusiastically.
“Oh, now you decide to greet me,” she murmured fondly, reaching down to pet the dog without slipping out of Jeremiah’s arms.
“Yeah… he has to make sure I’m okay with people before he greets them. At least until he knows them well. Then he makes an idiot of himself.”
“Is that just his nature or a learned reaction?”
“Learned. Everything that could go wrong for him did. According to the Aussie rescue group I got him from, his first owner died of a heart attack, and he was sent to the man’s granddaughter, who’s boyfriend was a real piece of work. The prick beat him or kicked him hard enough to crack a couple ribs and then dumped him off at the local pound. He was only ten months old or so when I adopted him and still healing.”
“I get it—his name,” she said. “Murphy’s Law.”
“Yep.”
With some reluctance, she slipped out of Jeremiah’s embrace and knelt on the floor. Murphy wiggled into her lap, and she scratched under his collar and up and down his back. “Poor guy. But you finally got lucky, huh? Found yourself a good forever home with Jeremiah.”
“He’s not much of a cow or sheep dog, but he’s the best companion. Goes everywhere with me.”
“So I’ve noticed. Was it love at first sight?”
“Pretty much. I took a cue from Aaron and Brodie Dunn and met with several dogs until I found him, and we both knew immediately.”
Heather frowned as she stroked her hand over Murphy’s head, but it didn’t last long. The happiness in the dog’s blue eyes was irresistible. “Sometimes I really hate people.”
She gave the dog a few more loves and pushed to her feet. “If you’re sure you don’t mind quitting early, I’d love to hit the hot springs. But first… can I have a tour of your project?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
He finished screwing the sheet of metal siding in place—the last one to go up, she noted—and then walked with her around the trailer. The galvanized siding covered the bottom half of the walls, and basic T1-11 siding painted a subtle medium gray-green covered the top half. He’d used the same corrugated metal for the roof, and it made for an aesthetically pleasing contrast with the paint color he’d chosen. The custom-made door was a dark purple just a little too blue to be eggplant. He opened it and stepped back to let her enter.
Inside, it was still bare studs with a wafer-wood floor, but the electrical was in, and when she noticed a battery and converter, she asked if he was planning to use solar power for it.
“Yep. And I have a tiny wood stove ordered, so it’ll be off grid.”
“Nice.”
The door was in the rear driver-side corner, leaving plenty of room in the passenger-side corner for the tiny wood stove. The three windows on the other walls were small—two feet square—but they were plenty adequate for the seven-foot-by-nine-foot space. She listened as he described how he was going to finish out the interior with a creamy yellow paint, a blue-pine log desk that would wrap around from the front wall to halfway down the side walls, and a light, speckled carpet that wouldn’t show the dirt as much as a solid-colored carpet would.
“I want one,” she said, able to picture it in stunning detail. “Seriously. This is going to be an amazing office.”
“Thanks. If or when that day comes, let me know, and I’ll build you one. Shall we go swim?”
“If you’re ready, yes.”
“I am. Wasn’t much in the mood to work today, to be honest.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“Zach’s officially a free man with a house and a job. Aaron talked to his PO this morning.”
“I’m sorry, Jeremiah.”
He shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it but hope his freedom is more important to him than revenge.”
“You think he’d come after you for ratting on him?”
“Yeah, I do.”
She slipped her arms around his waist again and touched her lips to his, hoping she could distract him as well as he’d soothed her. “In that case, we’d better get out of here and quick. A soak will do us both some good.”
She lavished his dog with attention while he returned his tools to their homes, watching him all the while, marveling at how effortlessly she’d opened up to him about Dustin. It couldn’t have been a comfortable thing for him to hear, especially not with his cousin’s release weighing on his mind, but he hadn’t said a word of complaint, nor had he asked for details, and damn, it had been nice to get it all off her chest without having to delve any deeper into it.
She was so used to people listening to reply rather than to understand that she was all the more aware of how soothing his quiet support was. How had she been so blind to the kind and generous soul behind that boyishly charming face? That question was followed immediately by another that she had no hope of answering right now.
What had she been missing out on all these years?
“Are we taking separate trucks?” he asked as he shut off the lights and ushered her out the door.
“Nah. I’ll ride with you, if you don’t mind swinging by my place so I can pick up my swimming gear.”
Jeremiah opened his door and snapped his fingers. “Load up, Murph.”
The Aussie bounded into the truck and plopped his butt in the middle of the bench. Heather laughed as she climbed in next to him. “How’d I know you were a spoiled boy? No riding in the bed of the truck for you, huh.”
He eyed her as if to ask if she had a problem with that, so she ruffled his ears and was rewarded with a dopey smile and happy eyes.
Luke and his wife Ryan were in the pool house when Heather and Jeremiah arrived, and Heather was surprised to see them—school wasn’t out for summer yet—until she glanced at the clock and realized it was already after five. Had she and Jeremiah really been in the shop that long?
She watched as her date chatted with the Conners, inquiring after their beautiful baby girl Ashleigh and remarking on how relieved they must be that the school year was almost done. When more customers arrived, he quickly paid for their swimming before she recovered her wits enough to even think about pulling her wallet out of her back pocket.
“You two enjoy yourselves,” Ryan said with a smile that said a whole lot more than her words. She glanced between Heather and Jeremiah.
“Thanks,” Heather replied. “We will.”
She headed right into the women’s changing room, oddly gratified by the other woman’s apparent approval of her new relationship. She didn’t know Ryan well, but that small glimmer of support was a welcome change from her family’s disapproval. She changed into her bikini in a hurry, bolstered by hope. Luke at least, and probably Ryan, too, knew Jeremiah far better than her family did. The Conners and Hammonds had been good friends longer than her family had been in Northstar; if she recalled correctly, Luke’s mother June and his honorary aunt Aelissm O’Neil had gone to college with all three of the Hammond brothers. All evidence pointed to that friendship extending to Jeremiah.
Despite her haste, Jeremiah beat her out of the pool house, and he was waiting in the larger pool for her… wearing a T-shirt. The surge of disappointment surprised her.
He wasn’t ripped, but he had great muscle tone, and the wet cotton clung to him, leaving pretty much nothing to the imagination.
“What’s with the shirt? You can’t possibly be shy,” she remarked as she angled her body over the edge of the boardwalk and lowered herself into the water beside him. “And if you are, I hope you realize that shirt isn’t hiding anything right now.”
“It’s not that. Not exactly.”
The quiet way he’d said it instantly piqued her curiosity. He met her gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away, but it was plenty long enough for her to catch a glimpse of the shadows in his eyes.
“Jeremiah?” She glided around him so that she was facing him, and when she did, she ran her hand up his arm, sliding her thumb under his sleeve and over the mark she’d spotted earlier. “Is this a burn scar?”
He nodded.
“Are there more?”
After a moment of indecision, he pulled his shirt over his head and turned his back to her. The left side of his body from his shoulder blade to his lower ribs was also marred by burn scars. The sight of them shocked her, and hesitantly, she reached out to skim her fingertips lightly over them.
“What happened?”
“House fire.”
She wanted to ask him for details, but the hardness in his voice gave her pause. If he was willing to talk about it, he wouldn’t have given her such a curt answer.
“I’m sorry. You’ve had some shit hands dealt to you, haven’t you? More than your fair share, I’d say.” She slid her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder with her hands folded against his chest. “It’s my turn to ask if you are all right.”
“About that? It happened a long time ago.”
“I figured. I meant about your cousin being a free man now.”
He shrugged and swiveled in her arms, so she re-hooked them around his neck and pressed her body against his. She kissed him slowly, grinning when she snagged his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged on it as she pulled back.
“How about now?” she asked huskily.
“What were we talking about?”
Laughing softly, she dragged one hand down his chest, took his hand and placed it on her hip, holding his gaze the entire time. Hunger surged as his pupils dilated. He wanted her—that much was obvious even before she nudged her leg between his and he made a sound that was half groan, half plea for more. She kissed him again, harder, and curled her hand around a fistful of his hair. He shivered.
Good God, she felt powerful.
“Heather?”
“Hmm?”
“You realize we’re in a public pool, right?”
“So?”
“You keep doing that, and this is going to get awkward in a hurry.”
She growled, annoyed because he was right. Sighing, she loosened her grip on his hair and put a little distance between them… but not much because she couldn’t bring herself to let go of him. His brows drew together and the muscle in his jaw twitched. She might’ve thought he was fighting to regain control of his desire were it not for the flash of pain she’d seen before he’d pinched his eyes closed.
“Tell me this isn’t a dream,” he whispered. “Tell me this is more than a rebound to you… because as incredible as that was, it felt like there was a fair amount of anger behind it.”
He opened his eyes again, and the vulnerability in them shocked her to her core.
She started to argue that she wasn’t angry at all and that she’d been caught up in the moment, but she snapped her mouth closed.
He was right.
The way he’d reacted to her bold kisses and demanding touches had given her such a rush of power, and she’d seized it, latching on to the control.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You’re right. I am angry. But not at you. I’m angry that the people who should know me better than anyone don’t seem to care how much it hurts that they don’t.”
His shoulders drooped with disappointment, and he looked away. She tightened her arms around his neck, but he wouldn’t look at her. Finally, she laid her hand against his cheek and drew his face back to her. She didn’t like the doubt in his eyes, and she wished she could allay it, but what if he was right about that, too? What if she was only using him as a rebound? She hated the idea of doing that to him, of hurting him when he’d been nothing but understanding and sympathetic.
“Maybe you need more time, even if you don’t think so,” he said quietly. “I’ve waited this long. I’ll wait a little longer.”
“I don’t need more time,” she assured him. “But maybe I do need to slow down. Give myself a chance to let go of the anger and, more importantly, get to know you better.”
“That might be a good idea.” He let out a breath, and a faint smile erased the doubt from his face. “We’re going to be swamped the next couple weeks getting the herds ready to move them up to the summer allotments. And Henry thinks he might’ve found a buyer for that office I’m working on, so I’ll need to spend some time working on that.”
“I could help, if that’d be all right.” She grinned. “It might be a little more difficult to get frisky if we’re covered in insulation.”
“That’d be… great. I’d like that.” He gave her an adorable lopsided smile. “You still haven’t told me this isn’t a dream.”
Laughing, she clasped his face and kissed his lips lightly. “This isn’t a dream.”