Книга - A Reunion and a Ring

A Reunion and a Ring
GINA WILKINS


Someone's sleeping in my bedNeeding to ponder a marriage proposal, play-it-safe Jenny Baer escapes to an Ozarks cabin–right into bed with a naked man! What's a recuperating Officer Gavin Locke doing in her rental amid a raging storm? He's the last thing she needs–the man she loved…and left.Trapped with Jenny in his cabin, with no power and too many memories, Gavin knows nothing's changed. She can't accept his dangerous career, and she's about to marry a powerful politician. But when one little kiss brings him to his knees, Gavin can't deny the attraction never died. Nor can Jenny. Once the flood waters recede, Jenny will wear a ring…But from whom?







How could ten years fall away in minutes?

How could a decade be forgotten with the touch of his hand? How could formerly hazy memories of long, passionate nights be suddenly more real to her than the people surrounding them as Gavin took her in his arms?

“A lot has changed in ten years.” His warm breath brushed her cheek and she shivered.

Sex, she told herself. That’s what this was about. She’d always responded to whatever pheromones Gavin put out. That hadn’t changed.

Still, if he was getting ideas that their chance meeting at the cabin could lead to anything more, she needed to set him straight. Sure, they’d gotten along fine, shared an amazing kiss. But that was a kiss goodbye, not the start of something new.

Gavin’s hand at the small of her back pressed her closer. She could have resisted. But for one moment she gave herself permission to simply enjoy the feel of him.

Stop this, Jenny. Stop it before you do something incredibly stupid, said the voice in her head.

Should she listen to it?

* * *

Proposals & Promises Putting a ring on it is only the beginning!


A Reunion and a Ring

Gina Wilkins




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Author of more than a hundred titles for Mills & Boon, native Arkansan GINA WILKINS was introduced early to romance novels by her avid-reader mother. Gina loves sharing her own stories with readers who enjoy books celebrating families and romance. She is inspired daily by her husband of over thirty years, their two daughters and their son, their librarian son-in-law who fits perfectly into this fiction-loving family, and an adorable grandson who already loves books.


As always, for my own perfect match—my husband, John. He proves every day that real-life heroes are the ones who are always quietly there for their family and friends, whether to lend a hug, a cheer or a hammer and duct tape. Forever my inspiration.


Contents

Cover (#ua23f5cc0-cbda-5d1f-b15b-c99597a15bda)

Introduction (#u6464068d-4f29-57b3-80c0-9050a20f28ab)

Title Page (#u82f63b31-3c3a-58c6-8a40-91445159c3a4)

About the Author (#u3497cf85-bc7a-5e7e-a555-f9fc6c293c8e)

Dedication (#ud34752f9-a50e-53f9-b911-51344b92d81d)

Chapter One (#u6f337bd0-a935-5107-9e07-9ee2b99be865)

Chapter Two (#u5adc7c85-39d9-5218-bd5f-f3ad9dd99073)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_5526145d-cf64-5305-bf79-77833f2ea5a0)

The headlights sliced through the darkness ahead, glittering off the torrents of rain pounding the windshield of the small car. The wind blew so hard that it took some effort to keep the car on the road. Fingers white-knuckled on the wheel, Jenny Baer leaned forward slightly against her seat belt in an attempt to better see the winding road. The weather had turned nasty earlier than she’d expected when she’d started this almost-three-hour drive.

She’d intended to leave work just after lunch on this Friday, which would have put her here midafternoon, before the rain set in. Instead, she’d been held up with one crisis after another, until it had been after six when she’d finally gotten away. She hadn’t even had a chance to change out of her work clothes. She’d thought of waiting until morning to head out, but she’d been afraid she’d only be detained again, maybe until too late to even consider the rare, three-day vacation she was allowing herself.

Her grandmother would say “I told you so” in that sanctimonious tone she often slipped into. Gran had insisted it was foolish for Jenny to take off on her own and stay alone for a long weekend in a secluded mountain cabin. But then, Gran was always trying to tell her only grandchild how to live her life. Though Jenny believed the advice was generally well-intended, she had to remind her grandmother repeatedly that she was thirty-one years old, held a master’s degree and was the sole owner of a successful clothing-and-accessories boutique.

Gran would be even less supportive of this private retreat if she knew the reason Jenny had decided impulsively to take it. If she’d told her grandmother that prominent attorney Thad Simonson had proposed marriage, Gran would already be arranging an engagement party, maybe interviewing wedding planners. She wouldn’t understand why Jenny had asked for time to think about her answer, though Thad had seemed to consider the request entirely reasonable. After all, he’d said, Jenny’s practicality and judiciousness were two of the many qualities he most admired about her. She had accepted the comment as a compliment, as she knew he’d intended—though maybe he’d been just a bit too prosaic about it?

Thad was out of state for a couple weeks on one of his frequent business trips, so Jenny had taken the opportunity to get away for a few days herself. She needed time to think about the ramifications of accepting his proposal without the distractions of constantly ringing phones and never-ending meetings with employees, customers, contractors and sales reps.

Lightning flashed in the distance through the curtains of rain, silhouetting the surrounding hills against the angry sky. The full force of the early-June storm was still a few miles away, but getting closer. What had she been thinking heading into the backwoods with this looming? She was the least impulsive person she knew—at least, that was the way she’d lived for the past decade or so—and yet, here she was, inching through a downpour in the middle of nowhere, heading for a cabin in the Arkansas Ozarks with no housekeeping staff, no room service, none of the amenities she preferred for her infrequent escapes. All with less than forty-eight hours of planning, another anomaly for her.

Considering everything, it was a wonder the cabin had even been available on such short notice, but the too-cheery rental agent had assured her it was ready to rent. Jenny had assumed the weather forecasts had scared off other prospective vacationers, but she’d planned to stay inside to think and work in blessed isolation, so the prospect of a rainy weekend hadn’t deterred her. This storm, on the other hand, threatened to be more than she’d bargained for.

She turned onto a steeply rising gravel lane pitted with deep, rapidly filling puddles. The car skidded to the right as she made the turn, hydroplaning on the water beginning to creep over the road. She gasped and tightened her grip on the wheel, letting out her breath slowly when the tires regained traction, digging into the gravel and forcing their way uphill.

She gave a little moan of relief when the cabin appeared in front of her as a darker shape in the headlights. No lights burned in the windows, and there seemed to be no security lights outside. It was hard to tell if the place had changed much since she’d last been here, almost eleven years ago. Lizzie, the rather ditzy rental agent, had explained that there was a carport behind the cabin, but since there was no covered walkway from there to the back door, Jenny parked as close as she could get to the front porch.

Her luggage was in the trunk, but the purse, computer case and overnight bag in the front passenger seat held everything she needed until morning. Arms full, she jumped out of the car and made a mad scramble toward the covered porch. She cursed beneath her breath as she fumbled the key into the lock. Just from that brief dash, her dark hair was soaked, the layers hanging limply around her face and sticking to her cheek. Her once-crisp, white designer blouse was now sodden and transparent, and her gray linen pants were wet to the skin. Mud splattered her expensive sandals and she’d twisted her ankle on the slippery steps. This was what she got, she chided herself, for coming to a place with no eager doorman to assist her.

“I told you so,” Gran’s imaginary voice whispered in her ear, making her scowl as she shoved through the door.

The interior of the cabin was stuffy and dark, lit only by the almost-constant flashes of lightning through the windows. In the strobe-like illumination, she could see that she had entered a spacious open room with a kitchen and dining area at the far end, and a big stone fireplace on the wall to her right. It was all exactly as she remembered.

She hadn’t anticipated the feelings that almost overwhelmed her when she walked in, stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving a dull ache in her chest. She’d told herself she’d sought out this cabin only because it was the first place that had popped into her mind when she’d looked for a peaceful hideaway for the serious deliberations facing her. She’d reassured herself she was drawn here because she’d recalled the natural beauty, the soothing backdrop of birdsongs and mountain breezes. The long Labor Day weekend she’d spent here with her college boyfriend’s family had been one of the most pleasant holidays of her life. It had seemed a lucky omen when she’d made a couple of internet searches and phone calls and discovered, to her surprise, that not only was the cabin still on the market for vacation rentals, it was also available this very week.

She’d thought she could enjoy the setting without dwelling on the copious tears she’d shed by the end of that year, after a bitterly painful breakup. She’d thought she had long since dealt with that youthful heartbreak so she could remember the good times and forget the bad, the way any mature adult looked back at the foibles of youth. Maybe she’d even thought this would be a fitting way to put a final closure to her one previous serious relationship before committing completely to a new, permanent union.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have been quite so impetuous in booking this cabin. Maybe some old memories should remain locked away, without such tangible reminders.

Shaking her head in exasperation with herself, she set her bags at her feet and fumbled for a wall switch. She hoped the light would banish those old images back into the shadows of the past where they belonged. Nothing happened when she flipped the lever. Great. The storm had knocked out the power. She stood just inside the room, debating whether she should get back in the car and make a break for civilization, preferably someplace new and memory-free. As if in answer, a hard gust of wind rattled the windows, followed by a crash of thunder that sounded like the closest one yet. Okay, maybe she’d stay inside for a while. She tugged her phone out of her pocket, using the screen for light. A very weak signal, she noted in resignation, but the time was displayed on the screen. Almost 10:00 p.m.

She might as well peel out of these wet clothes and try to get a little sleep. Suddenly exhausted, she kicked off her muddy shoes and carried her overnight bag toward the open doorway on the left side of the room. Tomorrow morning, after the tempest had passed, she would decide what to do if the power wasn’t restored. She’d anticipated that by the end of this retreat she would have a pile of paperwork completed, crucial decisions made, the rest of her life neatly planned out. Had she been hopelessly naive?

She had her blouse unbuttoned by the time she reached the doorway. She couldn’t wait to be out of these wet things and into her comfy satin nightshirt. She hoped the mattress was decent. Not that it mattered much. She was tired enough to sleep on a bag of rocks.

The bedroom was tiny, taken up almost entirely by the bed. Just as that fact registered, she stumbled hard over something on the floor. Her overnight bag fell from her hand and landed squarely on one bare foot. Pain shot all the way up her leg, making her yelp and hop. Her phone hit the floor, screen down, plunging the room into total darkness. She fell onto the bed.

“What the hell?” The sleepy, startled male voice erupted from the darkness as hands closed around Jenny’s arms.

Instinctively, she reached out, and her palms landed on a very warm bare chest sprinkled with wiry hair. She choked out a cry and shoved herself backward. She’d have fallen off the bed if the man hadn’t been holding on to her.

“Let go of me!” she ordered sharply, barely suppressed panic making her throat tight. “What are you doing here? I’m calling the police.”

“Lady, I am the police. And you’re breaking and entering.”

She struggled to her feet. Holding on to her with one hand, the man sat up on the bed and reached across with his other hand to fumble around on the nightstand. Cold fluorescent light beamed in a small circle from an emergency lantern he’d set beside the bed, making her squint to adjust her vision. Seeing the man who still gripped her arm did not exactly inspire confidence.

His shaggy hair, dark blond with lighter streaks, tumbled around a hard-jawed face stubbled with a couple days’ growth of dark beard. She couldn’t discern the color of his narrowed eyes, but she could see that his mouth was a hard slash bracketed by lines that probably deepened into long dimples when—or if—he smiled. His bare shoulders were tanned and linebacker broad. Dark hair scattered across his hard chest and narrowed to the thin sheet pooled at his waist. A large white bandage covered his right shoulder, but the evidence of injury made him look no more vulnerable. Overall, she got the immediate first impression of coiled strength, simmering temper and almost overwhelming masculinity.

It took another moment to realize that she knew him. Or had once known him. Quite well actually. Had his fingers not been biting into her arm, she might have thought her weary, memory-flooded mind was playing tricks on her.

“Gavin?”

Surely fate’s sense of humor wasn’t this twisted!

He blinked up at her and she wondered for a moment if he even recognized her in the shadows. Though he didn’t release her, his fingers relaxed their grip. “Jen?”

Of all the improbable possibilities she could have imagined for the start of this poorly planned vacation, falling into bed with Gavin Locke wouldn’t have even been on her list. She stared mutely at him, unable to think of a thing to say. Her heart pounded in her chest, her throat suddenly so tight she couldn’t draw air in, much less force words out. Once again memories filled her mind in a rush of images so vivid that she could almost feel his hands sweeping over her bare skin, could almost taste his lips on hers, could almost hear his low, hoarse groans of arousal and satisfaction.

Even as her face warmed and her pulse raced in reaction to those arousing flashbacks, she struggled to tamp them down again. She’d simply been caught off guard, she told herself irritably. It was only natural that unexpectedly finding Gavin in bed, half-naked, would remind her of all the times she’d seen him that way before. Just because she’d long since moved on didn’t mean she’d forgotten her reckless, youthful love affair. Just as remembering didn’t mean she hadn’t put it all safely behind her.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “How did you get in?”

His words roused her into a response, though she wished her voice emerged a little steadier. “I came in through the front door. What are you doing here? Did you break in?”

“Did I... No, I didn’t break in! I used my key.”

Following his sweeping gesture, she glanced toward the nightstand. Beside the plastic lantern sat a couple of medication bottles, a holstered handgun and a metal ring holding several keys. She swallowed, unable for the moment to look away from the weapon.

“Look, Jenny, I’m running on too little sleep, and I’m fairly pissed that someone got all the way into my bed without me hearing a thing, so maybe you could start explaining. Why are you here?” His voice was a growl underlain with steel. It was deeper than she remembered, but his cranky tone was familiar enough. She’d heard it often during the last few weeks of their ill-fated college romance.

She lifted her chin, refusing to be cowed by his mood. “I rented the cabin from Lizzie, the agent at the leasing company. I paid in advance for the weekend, and I have the paperwork to prove it in the other room.”

His fingers loosened even more in apparent surprise, and she took the opportunity to snatch her arm away and move a step back from the bed.

He seemed to process her explanation slowly. Perhaps his mind was fuzzy from whatever was in those prescription bottles. “Lizzie rented the cabin to you?”

She nodded. “She said there was a cancelation and that it was available.”

“Lizzie is a...”

A clap of thunder drowned out his words. Probably for the best. When the noise subsided a bit, Gavin shook his head, tossed off the sheet and swung his bare legs over the side of the bed. He wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. Though she’d seen him in less, that had been a long time ago, and seeing him like this now was not helping to ease the awkwardness of this encounter.

She became suddenly aware that she was standing in front of him with her wet blouse hanging open, revealing the lacy bra beneath. She reached up hastily to tug the shirt closed, fumbling with buttons. Her foot throbbed, she didn’t know where her phone had landed and her hair still dripped around her face. In her wildest imagination, she couldn’t have predicted her retreat starting out like this.

Seemingly unconcerned with his own state of undress, Gavin stood just at the edge of the lantern’s reach. Lightning flashed through the nearby window, revealing, then shadowing, his hard face and strong torso. As inappropriate as it was, considering the circumstances, she still felt a hard tug of feminine response somewhere deep inside her. The years had been very good to Gavin Locke.

She cleared her throat. “If you want to see my paperwork...”

“Come on, Jenny, you know I believe you. Besides, I’ve dealt with Lizzie enough recently to know that your story is completely plausible.”

The wind howled louder outside, so Jenny had to speak up to ask, “Are you saying she rented you the cabin for tonight, too?”

“She didn’t have to rent it to me. I own this cabin now.”

“Oh, crap.” When had he bought it? Why? She had a vague memory of it belonging to an old friend of his family’s, but she’d never imagined Gavin would now be the owner.

“You can say that again.” He shook his head in disgust. “I told Lizzie not to rent the place this week, that I needed it myself. I should have known she’d get it mixed up. She’s new at the job and she’s incompetent.”

“I...” A gust of wind blew so hard she could feel the cabin being buffeted by it. Something hit the roof above them and she cringed, glancing up instinctively. She couldn’t help thinking again of the tall trees surrounding the place. She suspected a branch had just fallen on the roof, and she hoped it wouldn’t be followed by the whole tree.

Gavin looked up, too, and then staggered, as if doing so had made him dizzy. He put out a hand to steady himself and nearly knocked the lantern off the nightstand. Without thinking, Jenny moved to steady him, her hands closing over his shoulders. He flinched away from her grip on his bandaged shoulder, and it was obvious that she’d hurt him. Even as she snatched her arms back, she realized that his skin had seemed unnaturally warm.

Frowning, she reached out again, this time laying her palm tentatively against his cheek. She tried to keep her touch relatively impersonal, merely that of a concerned nurse. “You have a fever.”

He brushed her off. “I was sleeping. I’m probably just warm from that.”

“No, it’s definitely a low-grade fever. Is your shoulder wound infected?”

“I’m taking antibiotics,” he muttered.

“Since when?”

“Since this morning. Saw my doc before I drove up from Little Rock. He said it’s not too bad and the meds will clear it up soon.”

She stepped back. “Have you taken anything for the fever?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve got some aspirin in my bag. Maybe you should lie back down while I try to find it. If I could borrow the lantern?”

One hand at the back of his neck, he stared at her. “You broke in here to take my temperature and give me aspirin? Are you sure my mother didn’t send you?”

Oddly enough, the mention of his mother made her relax a bit. She had always liked his mother. “I didn’t break in. And I’m leaving immediately. I apologize for the misunderstanding. Do you want the aspirin before I go or not?”

Looking steadier, he scooped up a pair of jeans from the floor and stepped into them. She noticed only then that she’d tripped over a pair of his shoes. He must have pretty much stripped and fallen into bed earlier. If he’d taken a pain pill beforehand, that could explain why he’d slept so heavily he hadn’t heard her entrance over the noisy weather.

He swung an arm in the direction of the single window in the little bedroom. The glass rattled in the frame from the force of the wind blowing outside, and a veritable fireworks exhibit played across the slice of sky visible from where she stood. Thunder had become a constant grouchy roar, as if the night itself was grudgingly surrendering to the storm.

“You aren’t going back out in that. The way that rain’s coming down, I wouldn’t be surprised if the road is flooded. And the full force of the storm hasn’t even hit yet. We’re in for worse before it passes.”

She thought of the water already creeping over the road when she’d approached the cabin. That frightening moment when she’d hydroplaned. She swallowed. “I’ll be fine,” she said, wishing she sounded a bit more confident.

She bent to retrieve her dropped phone just as Gavin took a step toward her. “Don’t be foolish. The storm is too...”

The collision knocked her flat on her behind and nearly caused Gavin to sprawl on top of her. Somehow he steadied himself, though it involved flailing that made him grunt in pain from his injured shoulder.

Sitting sprawled at his feet, she shook her head. Could this ridiculous evening get any worse? Or was she tempting capricious fate to even ask?

* * *

Gavin was beginning to wonder just what was in those pills he’d taken before he’d turned in. Was he hallucinating? Or had a gorgeous, wet woman with a smoking body revealed by an open blouse really fallen out of the storm and into his bed? A woman right out of the memories he thought he’d locked away long ago, though they’d escaped a few times to haunt his most erotic dreams. Was he dreaming again now?

No. The way she sat on the floor glaring up at him told him this was no fantasy. The dream-Jenny had been much more approachable.

Muttering an apology, he reached down to haul her to her feet with his good arm. He released her as soon as he was sure she was steady on her feet.

“It wasn’t your fault,” his uninvited guest conceded. “I was picking up my phone. I dropped it when I stumbled over your shoes.”

Which made it still his fault, in a way, but he wasn’t going to get into a circular argument with her. “Are you expecting anyone else to arrive tonight?”

Was he unintentionally intruding on what she’d planned to be a romantic, rustic retreat? He told himself the possibility annoyed him only because he didn’t want to have to deal with yet another intruder. What other reason could there be after all these years?

“No. I was going to hide out here alone for a few days to get some work done without interruptions.”

He was still having trouble clearing his thoughts. He couldn’t begin to understand why Jenny had come to this particular place to work. What the hell was he supposed to do with her now?

An unwelcome recollection from the last time they’d been together here slammed into his mind in response to what should have been a rhetorical question. He could almost see himself and Jenny, naked and entwined, lying on a pile of their clothes in a secluded, shaded clearing. Laughing and aroused, they’d made good use of the stolen hour. His blood still heated in response to the distant echoes of their gasps and moans.

Shoving the memories fiercely to the back of his mind, he half turned away from her. The storm assaulting the windows made it obvious she wasn’t leaving immediately. He released a heavy sigh. “Maybe you remember there’s another bedroom at the back of the cabin, behind the kitchen. You can crash there tonight, and we’ll get this all figured out in the morning.”

“Spend the night here? With you?”

Pain radiated from his shoulder, and his head was starting to pound. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in a couple days. Patience was not his strong suit at the best of times, but he’d lost any semblance of it tonight.

“I didn’t suggest sleeping in the same bed,” he snapped. “The other room has a lock on the door. Use it, if you’re so damned afraid of me. Hell, take my weapon and sleep with it under your pillow, if it makes you feel better.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not afraid of you, Gavin.”

“Great. I’m not afraid of you, either.”

A soft laugh escaped her, sounding as if it had been startled out of her. “You’re in pain,” she said. “I’ll get the aspirin.”

“I had a pain pill before I went to sleep. Probably shouldn’t take aspirin on top of it.”

“Oh. You’re right. How long has it been?”

“Couple hours, maybe. I can take one every four hours, but I don’t usually need them that often.”

“What did you do to your shoulder?”

“Long story.” And one he had no intention of getting into at the moment. “There’s another emergency lantern in the kitchen. I’ll help you find it. I’m thirsty, anyway.”

“Thank you.”

He saw her glance up nervously when something else hit the roof, and he wondered if she was anxious about the storm. He remembered that she’d never been a fan of storms. Yet, she’d been prepared to go back out in it? He shook his head.

Carefully pulling on a loose shirt, he picked up the lantern and moved past her toward the doorway. He heard her pick up her bag and hurry after him, trying to stay close to the light. He retrieved the second fluorescent lantern from the kitchen counter, pushed the power button, then turned to offer it to his visitor. She accepted with barely concealed eagerness.

He could see her more clearly in the double lantern light. She’d been very pretty just out of her teens, but the intervening decade had only added to her attraction.

Her dark hair, which she’d once worn long and straight, now waved in layers around her oval face. He remembered how it had once felt to have his hands buried in its soft depths.

Her chocolate-brown eyes studied him warily from beneath long, dark lashes. There had been a time when she’d gazed at him with open adulation.

She was still slender, though perhaps a bit curvier than before. He’d once known every inch of her body as well as his own, and he noted the slight differences now. He tried to stay objective, but he was only human. And she looked damned good.

Her expensive-looking clothes were somewhat worse for wear after her jog through the rain. He wasn’t one to notice brands, but even he recognized the logo on the overnight bag she carried. Apparently she had achieved the success she had always aspired to.

He hadn’t kept up with her—quite deliberately—but his mother had mentioned a few months ago that she’d seen Jenny’s photo in the society section of the local newspaper. She’d watched his face a bit too closely as she’d commented casually that Jenny had been photographed at some sort of community service awards dinner for Little Rock’s young professionals. She’d added that Jenny was reported to be dating a member of one of central Arkansas’s most prominent and long-established families. He’d answered somewhat curtly that he read the sports pages, not the society gossip, and that he had no particular interest in who his long-ago college girlfriend was now dating. He wasn’t sure he’d succeeded in convincing his mother that Jenny never even crossed his mind these days.

So what had really made this country-club princess choose to vacation at his rustic fishing cabin? As unlikely a coincidence as it was, he had no doubt that she was as dismayed to have found him here as he was that she’d shown up so unexpectedly. The genuine shock on her face had been unmistakable.

He reached into a cabinet and drew out a glass. “Are you thirsty? I doubt there’s anything cold in the fridge, but I can offer tap water. Or I think we’ve got some herbal tea bags. It’s a gas stove, so I can heat water for you, if you want.”

Despite the circumstances, he was trying to be a reasonably gracious host, though he wasn’t the sociable type at the best of times. After all, it wasn’t Jenny’s fault the agency he’d hired to rent out the cabin had recently employed a total airhead. He’d have more than a few pointed words for someone there tomorrow.

Hal Woodman, an old friend of his father’s, had built this cabin on the Buffalo River as a fishing retreat and rental property when Gavin was just a kid. Hal had let Gavin’s parents use it frequently for family vacations. A few years later, Gavin’s dad bought the cabin from his then-ailing friend. Gavin and his sister inherited the place when their father died a couple years ago. His sister lived out of state now with her military husband, so Gavin had bought her portion. To defray the costs, he rented it out when he wasn’t using it—which was more often than he liked because of his work schedule. The cabin was close enough to hiking trails, float trip outfitters and a couple of tourist-friendly towns that it rarely sat empty for long. Yet, had anyone suggested that Jenny Baer would be one of his weekend renters, he would have labeled that person delusional.

Jenny shivered a little, and he realized her clothes were still damp. Hell, she’d likely sue both him and the leasing agency if she got sick. “Go put on some dry clothes. I’ll heat some water. The bathroom’s through that door.”

Jenny hesitated only a moment, then tightened her grip on the lantern and turned toward the bathroom. Grumbling beneath his breath, he filled the teakettle and reached for the tin of herbal teas his health-conscious mom had insisted he bring with him. She was still annoyed with him for taking off to heal in private rather than letting her nurse him back to health from his injury, which would have driven him crazy. He disliked being fussed over, even by the mother he adored.

Jenny wasn’t gone long. When she returned, she wore slim-fitting dark knit pants with a loose coral top that looked somewhat more comfortable than her previous outfit. She’d towel-dried her hair and her feet were still bare, but other than that, she could have been dressed to host a casual summer party. Had she really packed this way for a cabin weekend alone? He had to admit she looked great, but out of place here. No surprise.

He set a steaming mug of tea on the booth-style oak table. A bench rested against the wall, and four bow-back chairs were arranged at the ends and opposite side of the table, providing comfortable seating for six adults. He brought friends occasionally for poker-and-fishing weekends, and the family still tried to gather here once a year or so, but usually he came alone when he needed a little downtime to recharge his emotional batteries.

Setting the lantern on the table, Jenny slid into a chair and picked up the tea mug, cradling it between her hands as she gazed up at him. “I’m really sorry about this mix-up. And that I woke you so abruptly when I’m sure you need sleep.”

He started to shrug his right shoulder out of habit, then stopped himself at the first twinge of protest. “Not your fault,” he said again. “How long were you planning to stay?”

She looked into her mug, hiding her expression. “I paid for three nights, which would let me stay until Monday afternoon if I’d wanted.”

“By yourself.” That still seemed odd to him. Was she still seeing Mr. Social Register? Or had there been a breakup? He couldn’t help thinking back to the weeks following his breakup with Jenny. He’d dropped out of college and holed up here alone for a couple of weeks, until his parents had shown up and practically dragged him back into the real world. He’d entered the police academy as soon as he could get in after that, putting both the pain and the woman who’d caused it out of his mind and out of his heart. Or at least that’s what he’d told himself all these years since.

Still, just because he’d retreated here after a split didn’t mean Jenny’s reasons for being here were in any way the same.

No particular emotion showed on her face when she spoke, still without looking up at him. “I’ve gotten behind on some business and personal paperwork and I thought it would be nice to have a little time to myself in peaceful surroundings to tackle it all. I needed a chance to concentrate without constant interruptions, and it’s usually hard to find that back at home.”

Leaning against the counter, he raised his water glass and murmured into it, “I know that feeling.”

She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “You’re getting away from everyone, too?”

“In a way. I, um, had surgery on my shoulder last week and I’d rather hide out and heal alone rather than be hovered over by my mom.”

Her full lips curved then into a faint smile. “From what I remember about you, that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

He didn’t want to discuss memories, good or otherwise.

“So you drove straight here from Little Rock?”

“Yes. It wasn’t storming when I left. I had hoped it would hit later, or maybe skip this area completely.”

She looked up when thunder boomed again, louder and closer. “Thor’s really angry tonight,” she murmured with a wry, somewhat nervous-looking smile.

A chuckle escaped him. “The myth or the superhero?”

“The myth, of course.” She gave a husky little laugh that echoed straight from those memories he was trying so hard to hold back. “And the superhero. I’ve seen all the movies, even though my, um, friend calls them cheesy. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy more intellectually challenging films for the most part, but I...”

She stopped herself with a grimace. “I’m sorry, I’m babbling. This whole situation is just so...awkward.”

“Yeah.” He set his glass beside the sink, his attention lingering reluctantly on her mention of a “friend.” Something about the way she’d said the word made him wonder...

He motioned abruptly toward his bedroom. “I’m going back to bed. Make yourself at home. We’ll sort it all out in the morning. You’ll be getting a refund, of course, for anything you’ve paid up front.”

Lightning zapped so close to the cabin he could almost smell the ozone. The near-deafening clap of thunder was almost simultaneous. He saw Jenny flinch, her hands visibly unsteady around the mug. Wind-driven rain hammered the windows, and he thought he heard some hail mixed in. The full force of the storm had definitely arrived.

“Do you know if we’re under a tornado warning?”

He shook his head. “My phone would sound an alarm if we were. It’s only a severe thunderstorm warning.”

“You’ll let me know if it turns into anything more?”

“Of course.”

He took another step toward the bedroom just as another barrage of hail hit the roof and windows. Hearing a sound from Jenny, he looked over his shoulder. She sat at the table holding her mug, her face pale in the circle of lantern light. She made no move toward her own bedroom. “Are you okay?”

She glanced his way. “I hope this hail doesn’t damage my car.”

His truck was under cover in the carport, but he wasn’t about to offer to go out and swap places with her. He figured she had insurance. “Maybe the hail won’t last long.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said, her voice almost drowned out by thunder. The storm was so loud now it seemed to echo inside his aching head.

Raising his left hand to his temple, he said, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks. I’m okay for now.”

Nodding, he turned and headed grimly for the bedroom, thinking he’d better lie down before he embarrassed himself by falling down. He’d been assured the wound infection was not serious and should heal quickly with a five-day course of antibiotics, but combined with everything else, it was kicking his butt tonight. He could only blame that for his inability to think clearly about the woman now sitting at his table.

He’d been far too rattled ever since she’d tumbled out of the storm, out of the past and into his bed.

* * *

Jenny watched Gavin walk away. His thin shirt emphasized the breadth and muscularity of his shoulders and arms. His well-worn jeans encased a tight butt. At thirty-one, he’d put on a few pounds since she’d seen him last, but those pounds were all muscle. She saw no evidence of his injury from the back, which only enhanced the impression of strength and power. She waited only until his bedroom door closed sharply behind him before she sagged in her chair and hid her face in her hands.

She had always wondered how she would feel if she saw Gavin again. She’d hoped she would have enough warning to brace herself. As it was, it had taken every ounce of control she could muster to hide her shock and dismay at finding him here.

Gavin had certainly shown no particular emotion, other than the initial, understandable confusion when he’d first recognized her. Since then, he’d given no evidence that he viewed her as anything more than an annoying intrusion. Remembering how angry he’d been when she’d broken up with him, she supposed that shouldn’t surprise her.

She felt suddenly alone in her little circle of lantern light. A crash of wind and thunder made her jerk, almost spilling the dregs of her tea. She swallowed, squared her shoulders and stood to carry the cup to the sink.

Retrieving her bag and the lantern, she moved into the back bedroom, which was even smaller than the one in which she’d found Gavin. A full-over-full bunk bed was pushed against the wall, leaving little walking room. She’d forgotten about the bunk bed. Just over ten years ago, on that pleasant Locke family getaway, she and Gavin’s sister had slept in this room. His very traditional parents had taken the bedroom and Gavin got the sleeper sofa.

Which hadn’t prevented her and Gavin from sneaking off a few times to be alone, she recalled with a hard swallow. They’d found one particularly inviting clearing in the woods, carpeted with soft moss, serenaded by the sound of lazily running water.

The unsettling memory was so clear she could almost hear that water now. She took a step forward into the room and started when her bare foot landed in a puddle of cold water. Lifting the lantern, she discovered a steady stream of rain pouring in onto the top bunk. Another, smaller leak dripped onto the floor where she’d just stepped.

She raised the light higher, looking up at the ceiling. Another surge of hail pounded the windows and more water gushed through the leak above the bed. Obviously, shingles had been loosened or blown off. She rushed back into the kitchen, set her bag on the table and began to rummage quickly in the cupboards for containers in which to catch the leaks. Maybe she could save the wood flooring if she intervened quickly. She tried to be quiet, but pans clattered despite her efforts. She pulled out the largest pots she found, then tried to juggle them with a couple of dish towels and the lantern. This no-electricity thing could get old very fast.

The other bedroom door flew open. “What are you doing out here?” Gavin sounded both sleepy and irritated.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you again,” she replied over her shoulder. “The roof in this bedroom is leaking in two places. I’m trying to catch the water before it does any damage.”

“Well, hell.”

Moments later, he knelt beside her with another towel, though she’d already mopped up most of the standing water. His now-bare shoulder brushed her arm as they reached out together, and she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her. Just static, she assured herself, scooting an inch away. She stuck a pot beneath the leak and heard the rhythmic strike of drops against metal.

“Should we try to move the bed away from the leak?”

“Nowhere to move it to.” He picked up the other pot and set it on the top bed. Now the water splashed in stereo, thumping against the pots like miniature drumbeats. “There are waterproof covers on both mattresses. I’ll strip the beds and try to dry everything tomorrow.”

He turned toward her, his partially shadowed face inscrutable. “Obviously you can’t stay in here. That dripping would drive you nuts.”

“True.”

He let out a sigh and motioned toward the doorway. “Looks like you’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”

Her heart gave a hard thump simultaneously with the loud clap of thunder that accompanied his words.


Chapter Two (#ulink_7a84d394-7160-5068-9850-7b7255a684ca)

Jenny woke with a start Saturday morning at the sound of a closing door. Disoriented, she blinked her eyes open, only then remembering that she’d spent a restless night on the sleeper sofa in the cabin’s living room. Gavin had offered the use of his bed, but she’d refused. She wouldn’t displace an injured man from his bed because of a mix-up that was no fault of his own. Not to mention that the thought of crawling into sheets still warm from his body had been disconcerting enough to make her toes curl.

Though the fold-out mattress was comfortable enough, she hadn’t slept well, and the noisy storm had been only part of the reason. She’d lain awake for a long time trying to come to grips with the reality that after all these years her ex-boyfriend lay only a few feet away. Old memories—some bittersweet, some wrenching—had whirled through her head, leaving her too tense to relax. It had simply never crossed her mind that she might run into Gavin at the cabin she’d only visited before with him. Some might say there was a complicated Freudian explanation behind her decision to come here to consider another man’s proposal, but that was ridiculous. It had been the peace and quiet that had drawn her here, certainly not nostalgia.

Gavin stood in front of her when she turned her head toward the front door. Dressed in a gray T-shirt, jeans and boots, he was damp and mud-splattered. He pushed a hand through his wet hair, which was so long it touched the back collar of his shirt, indicating he’d missed a couple of cuts. He still hadn’t shaved, adding to his roguish bad-boy appearance. Her pulse jumped into a faster rhythm at the sight of him. If she’d had any doubt that she still found Gavin strongly attractive, that question was answered definitively now.

“Sorry I woke you,” he said.

Self-conscious, she swung her feet to the floor and pushed herself upright, trying to smooth her tousled hair. It bothered her to think he’d walked right past her as she’d slept, leaving her feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. That was a little hard to deal with this morning.

Light filtered in through the windows. She could hear rain still falling on the roof, though the height of the storm had passed. She saw no lights burning inside, so she assumed the power was still out. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight.”

Later than she usually slept, but she hardly felt well-rested. “What’s it like out there?”

His response was blunt. “A mess. Lots of limbs on the ground. There’s a big tree over the road a few yards from the house, totally blocking the drive, and I’m sure there’s flooding beyond that. You’re lucky you got here when you did last night. You won’t be leaving for a while yet. No way to get down the hill in your car.”

Not promising. She moistened her dry lips before asking, “Is my car damaged?”

“A few hail dings. You were fortunate. A good-size limb fell only a couple feet away from your hood.”

While she was relieved her car hadn’t sustained damage, she wasn’t sure fortunate was the right word to describe her current situation. “How long do you think it will take for them to clear the tree from the road?”

“Them?”

“The county? Highway department? Whoever does that sort of thing.”

“Highway department doesn’t take care of rural gravel roads. And the tree’s on private property, so the county isn’t going to deal with it. I’m sure they have their hands full elsewhere. From what I saw on my phone news feed, there was quite a bit of damage around this part of the state last night.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, feeling suddenly a bit panicky at the thought of being trapped here with Gavin for much longer. It wasn’t that she feared for her safety—but she couldn’t say the same for her peace of mind. “So, what are we going to do?”

“I’ve got a chain saw in the back of my truck. I was planning to do some light trimming and clearing this weekend, anyway, assuming my shoulder cooperated. I’ll tackle the tree when the rain stops, but it’s going to take a while with only the one sixteen-inch saw. As for the flooding, you’ll just have to wait for that to recede. There’s too much water over the road for you to risk driving through it, even if you could figure out a way to get around the tree. You’d be swept into the river before you made it across.”

Unsurprised that he hadn’t planned to let his injury stop him from the work he’d wanted to do, she twisted her fingers in front of her. “How long do you think it will take for the flooding to recede?”

He glanced upward, silently indicating the still-falling rain. “This county remains under a flash flood alert. It’s going to take a few hours for all the water to drain off once the rain stops.”

“Have you heard from home? Was there storm damage in the Little Rock area?”

He shook his head. “The worst of the storms were confined to this part of the state.”

She was relieved that her family and her business had escaped the brunt of the storms she’d so foolishly driven into, but she wasn’t looking forward to spending several hours alone here with Gavin and their shared memories. “Surely I can get out somehow. Is there a back road, maybe?”

“Look, Jenny, I’m no more pleased about this than you are, but you might as well face facts. You’d be risking your life to try to make it down that hill now.”

She sighed and pushed her hair out of her face, silently conceding his point. At least he wasn’t pretending to be delighted to have her here. If there was one thing she remembered about Gavin Locke, it was that he had always been bluntly, sometimes painfully, honest.

“You had planned to stay for three nights, anyway,” he reminded her. “It’s not as if you have anyplace else you need to be today.”

“True. But I had expected to be here alone.”

“I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m the one who’s intruding.”

He made a dismissive gesture, though he didn’t assure her that it was no bother to have her here. They both knew better.

“At least let me cook breakfast,” she said, deciding to attempt to act as dispassionate as he was about the situation. “I brought a few nonperishable groceries with me. The bags are out in my car. I was going to try to find a market for some fresh food if I decided to stay the full three days, but I...”

“I have food,” he broke in curtly. “The kitchen’s stocked. Help yourself to anything you find in the cabinets or pantry. I doubt there’s anything salvageable in the fridge. I’m not hungry, but I’d take coffee if you want to make it while I wash up. There’s a French press in the cabinet by the stove.”

“Are you still running a fever?” She resisted an impulse to step forward and touch his face. He hadn’t seemed to like that last night. It was probably best to keep the touching to a minimum, anyway, while they were stranded here together.

“I’m fine.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him entirely, but figured it would be a waste of time to argue. Or even to point out that a man with an injured shoulder probably shouldn’t be out in the rain clearing storm debris.

He disappeared into his bedroom. After folding away the sleeper sofa and neatly stacking the sheets and pillows, Jenny rummaged in the kitchen. She filled the kettle with water and when it boiled she made the coffee, then two bowls of instant oatmeal she found in the pantry. A few bananas were turning brown on the counter, so she sliced a couple on top of the oatmeal and set the steaming bowls and mugs on the table. She’d just taken her seat when Gavin joined her again. He hadn’t changed, but he’d tried to clean the mud splatters on his clothes, leaving damp, streaked spots behind. She had to glance quickly down at her oatmeal to hide any hint of the feminine appreciation that flooded unbidden through her again. She was really going to have to put a stop to this, she thought irritably.

“I said I’m not hungry.” He dropped into his chair and studied the oatmeal with a scowl, proving himself to be just as grouchy as she was feeling. Was it possible he was dealing with some of the same unwelcome emotions she was trying to suppress?

She shrugged and answered with outward nonchalance. “Don’t eat it, if you don’t want it. I’ll have yours for seconds. But it’s there if you think you need to fuel up before doing any work outside today.”

After a moment, he heaved a gusty sigh and picked up his spoon. “Fine.”

She smothered a smile by stuffing a spoonful of oatmeal and bananas into her mouth. After washing it down with a sip of the passable coffee, she tried to ease the tension between them with small talk. “When did you buy the cabin?”

“My dad bought it nearly seven years ago. When he died five years later, I ended up with it.”

She replied with genuine sympathy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your dad. He was a good man.”

Gavin nodded. “He was.”

“How’s your mother?”

“She’s well, thanks. Yours?”

“Still working as a nurse in a hospital in Little Rock.” Her mother had liked Gavin, and had been openly disappointed when Jenny broke up with him.

“And your grandmother? Still living?”

Her grandmother, on the other hand, had not approved of Gavin, and the antipathy had been reciprocal. Jenny could still hear the faint edge of resentment in his voice, though the question had been civil enough. She focused on her breakfast when she said, “Still feisty as ever.”

He responded to that understatement with a grunt.

Maybe that subject was a bit too touchy still. She changed it quickly. “How’s Holly?”

“Married to an air force pilot. They’ve got two boys, Noah and Henry, six and four. They’re living in Illinois at the moment. Scott Air Force Base.”

An only child herself, Jenny had always been somewhat envious of the warm relationship Gavin had with his older sister. They’d gotten along amazingly well for siblings. During the time Jenny had spent with them, there had always been friends of Gavin’s and Holly’s around, usually engaged in good-natured but fierce competitions—basketball or softball or flag football, or spirited board games indoors. The memory of all that fun and laughter made her throat tighten as she studied the unsmiling, hard-looking man across the table. It had taken a lot worse than a college breakup to leave those dark shadows within his navy eyes.

“How do you like being an uncle?”

She was pleased to see a shadow of his old grin flit across his firm lips. “The boys tend to think of me as an automatic treat dispenser. Tug at my jeans and candy magically emerges from my pocket. Holly says it’s a good thing I don’t see them often or she’d have to put a stop to it. As it is, she turns a blind eye. She knows I won’t overdo it. And I always get them to work up a sweat to burn off the extra sugar.”

An image of him roughhousing with two cute little boys distracted her for several moments. As prickly as he could sometimes be with adults, Gavin had always liked kids, and the feeling had been mutual. She would bet he was the kind of uncle who would roll in the dirt with his nephews, let them climb all over him, sticky fingers and all.

Thad would be more likely to teach his nephews, if he had any, to play chess. Which would also be quite cute, she assured herself quickly, feeling a vague, totally unjustified ripple of guilt course through her, as if she’d been disloyal.

Gavin changed the subject. “What are you doing these days?”

“I own a fashion and accessories boutique in Little Rock.”

“What’s it called?”

“Complements.”

He nodded. “I’ve heard of the place. Someone I dated briefly shopped there a lot.”

“That’s good to hear. That she liked my store, I mean.”

He chuckled drily. “She complained about the high prices, but she still shopped there enough to max out her credit cards.”

“We carry high-end merchandise,” Jenny replied without apology. “Designer items that can’t be found in the local department stores.”

“Yes, well, it’s been a year or so since I’ve seen her, but I’m sure she’s still a loyal customer.”

Judging from his dispassionate tone, she doubted he’d been particularly invested in the relationship. If the woman was a regular patron at Complements, it was entirely possible Jenny knew her, but she had no intention of asking him. It was none of her business who Gavin had dated since she’d last seen him. Nor if he was dating anyone seriously now. Just as she saw no reason to discuss Thad with him.

He pushed away his empty bowl and picked up his coffee cup. “So you accomplished your lifelong goal. You own your own successful business. I assume you obtained an MBA, as well? That was always the plan, wasn’t it?”

She felt her chin rise in instinctive irritation, and she lowered it deliberately, keeping her expression composed. “Yes. I’m planning to open a second store in the next few months. I love my work.”

Which was absolutely true—and another reason she was having trouble deciding whether to accept Thad’s proposal, she thought somberly. Marrying Thad would change her life significantly. Though he’d always expressed his respect and admiration for her business achievements, he’d been quite candid about what he was looking for in a life partner. Supporting his political aspirations was high on his list of attributes in a mate. To keep up with the demands of that undertaking, she’d either have to sell her business eventually or at the very least turn over most of the daily operations to employees. After spending so much time tenaciously building her clientele and reputation, it was hard to contemplate putting Complements in the hands of anyone else.

None of which she was going to discuss with Gavin, of course. She sipped her rapidly cooling coffee, then set the cup on the table. “So, you did what you wanted, as well. You became a police officer.”

She hadn’t forgotten that he’d once wanted that career more than he’d wanted her. She wouldn’t lie to herself that there wasn’t still a little sting to the memories, but she hoped she’d hidden any remaining bitterness.

He nodded. “Went back and earned a degree in criminal justice, too. I took night classes and online courses when I was off-duty. Made my dad somewhat happier, anyway.”

Both Gavin’s parents had been educators. Neither had been pleased when he’d decided at an early age that he wanted to be a police officer. Their objection hadn’t been the social status or modest pay scale of police—which had been the bluntly stated basis of her grandmother’s disdain for the job—but rather the danger and unsavory situations in which their son would spend many of his working hours. They’d made no secret that they’d hoped he would change his mind while he obtained his college degree.

Jenny had met him in a sophomore sociology class. The attraction had been immediate and powerful. After they’d started dating, she’d added her arguments to his parents’, trying to convince him to channel his interest in criminal justice into a less dangerous profession. At first, he’d seemed to concur and begun to study for the law school entrance exam, to put away bad guys as a prosecutor rather than an officer. Truthfully, she’d been aware of his underlying lack of enthusiasm for that career path, but in her youthful optimism, she’d been sure he would learn to like it.

On the very rare occasions when she had looked back at their eighteen-month-long relationship through the viewpoint of a more mature adult, she’d realized it was probably his feelings of being pressured into a career he didn’t want that had made him turn sullen and difficult. He must have felt as if his own desires were always being disparaged and discouraged. He’d quarreled more and more often with his parents, and with her. He’d accused her of being so obsessed with her own ambitions, of trying so hard to please her grandmother, that she was willing to sacrifice their relationship to achieve her aims.

Maybe her lofty goals didn’t include being married to an ordinary cop, he’d snarled. Maybe the reason she kept urging him to go to law school had been more for her own ambitions than for his. During the ensuing years, she’d wondered uncomfortably if there had been some grain of truth in his allegations. She’d always assured herself that, like his parents, she had worried more about the risk and uncertainty of a police officer’s work rather than any lack of social status. She had witnessed her own mother’s grief after being widowed at a young age by a charming, daredevil firefighter, who’d been as reckless off-duty as on the job and had died in a drag-racing accident. Having struggled with that gaping loss herself, Jenny hadn’t been able to deal with the thought of losing the man she loved in the line of dangerous duty. The image still made her blood chill.

She’d been unable to convince Gavin exactly how upsetting that possibility had been to her. They’d had one last, fierce quarrel in which they’d both said very hurtful things, and that had been the end of their romance. The emotions had been too raw, the anger too hot, to allow them an amicable parting. A week later, she’d been shocked to learn that Gavin had left the university, only three semesters short of graduation. She assumed he’d entered the police academy soon afterward, though she’d never heard from him again. She had thrown herself into her studies, shedding her tears in private and burying the pain as deeply as possible, rarely to be acknowledged since.

Maybe Gavin’s thoughts, too, had drifted back to their painful breakup, because before she could reply, he shoved his chair back abruptly from the table. “I’m going to start on that tree. Thanks for the breakfast.”

“You should take care with that shoulder.”

He merely gave her a look and walked out, leaving her shaking her head in exasperation. While Gavin had changed in many noticeable ways since she’d last seen him, it was obvious that he was still as stubborn as ever.

* * *

The rain had dwindled to little more than a cool mist while he’d been inside. Gavin tossed damp hair out of his face and lifted the chain saw from the back of his truck with his good arm. Pulling the starter was going to be a challenge, but he’d manage. The sooner he cleared that tree out of the way, the sooner he or Jenny or both of them could get away from here. And the sooner there would be an end to those uncomfortable catch-up conversations.

Why the hell had he felt the need to tell her he’d gotten his degree? He’d heard himself blurting it out almost before he’d realized it. That damned degree didn’t make him any more worthy, as far as he was concerned. Jenny could have a dozen advanced degrees and own a Fortune 500 company, and he would still take pride in the uniform he donned every working day.

He remembered vividly the way Jenny’s grandmother’s lip had curled when he’d mentioned his intention to enter the police academy after finishing college. Lena Patterson had made it quite clear that she had higher aspirations for her granddaughter than to align herself with a “low-level civil servant.” Having known by then that Jenny’s father’s death had left them grief-stricken and financially burdened, Gavin had decided that Lena Patterson was a pompous, bitter woman. She had channeled her personal disappointments into her bright, beautiful and motivated granddaughter, pushing Jenny toward higher education and a socially and economically advantageous marriage.

The old woman had done a damned good job of programming her granddaughter from a very early age. He’d seen the way Jenny lit up in response to Lena’s sparsely doled praise. That had been hard for him to compete with at twenty-one. He doubted he could do so even now, if he were inclined to try.

He set the chain saw beside the other tools he’d already gathered around the fallen tree and stepped back to analyze the project. The oak was big. The uptilted root ball came almost to his shoulder. A tangle of leafy branches covered the driveway in a dense barrier. Even with two good arms, this tree would require hours to remove.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he removed one bulky work glove to draw it out, sighing when he saw his mother’s number.

“I’m fine, Mom,” he said without giving her a chance to say anything.

She laughed softly, unperturbed by his sardonic tone. “I’m glad to hear it. It sounds as if your area got hit hard by last night’s storms.”

“Lost a couple of trees, a bunch of limbs. Couple leaks in the back bedroom I’m going to have to patch. Other than that, no real damage done.”

“I heard there was flooding up that way.”

“There’s flooding down the road, but just a few wet patches up here on the hill.” His dad had always said that the river would have to be at hundred-year flood stages to creep up to the cabin.

“Can you get out?”

“Not yet, but the water should go down fairly quickly once the rain finally stops.” He hoped the road would be dry enough for safe travel by the end of the day, though the heavy cloud cover did not look promising. He wouldn’t be surprised to be drenched again at any minute.

“How’s your shoulder? Is the infection better?”

“Better. No fever today.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Now, please use common sense and try not to overdo it with the storm cleanup. I know better than to try to make you promise not to tackle any of it today.”

“I won’t overdo it.”

“I worry about you being up there all alone when you haven’t been out of the hospital for a whole week yet. I know you don’t like being hovered over, but I wish you’d stayed a bit closer to home for at least a few more days.”

“Gavin, do you have an extra pair of work gloves I can use?” Jenny called from behind him before he could reassure his mom again. “I’d be glad to help you clear this... Oh. I’m sorry.” Spotting the phone in his hand, she grimaced in apology.

He should have known his too-perceptive mother wouldn’t miss a beat. “Gavin? Someone is there with you? Is it anyone I know?”

There was no way he was telling her at the moment about his ex-girlfriend’s presence. His mom had liked Jenny back in the day, even though she’d reacted in true overprotective mama-bear mode when Jenny broke up with him. She’d insisted that Jenny had broken her son’s heart. Gavin wouldn’t have phrased it quite that way. Then again, he couldn’t really argue it, either.

“I have to take care of some things around here before the rain starts again,” he said into the phone, ignoring her questions. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

He heard her sigh, but his mother surrendered to the inevitable. No doubt she’d grill him good later, face-to-face. “Fine. Just...take care of yourself, will you?”

“Bye, Mom.”

He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket before turning to Jenny, studying her through the clear plastic protective glasses. She’d changed into a T-shirt and jeans. She’d pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. Beads of fine mist already glittered within the dark strands. Trendy, neon-green running shoes not at all suited to muddy manual labor encased her feet.

She held up her perfectly manicured hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were on the phone. I’m looking for an extra pair of work gloves so I can help you.”

“I can handle this.”

“It will go faster if I pitch in.”

He wasn’t so sure about that. She could prove to be more of a distraction than a help. But he could think of no way to decline the offer without coming across as a jerk. If he tried too obviously to avoid her, she might even think he’d never quite gotten over her.

He cocked his chin toward the back of the house. “Extra work gloves and safety glasses are behind the seat in my truck. It isn’t locked.”

He figured she’d tire out quickly and head back inside. Until then, he would keep her too busy to reminisce.

He had the chain saw running by the time she returned wearing the too-large, leather-and-canvas gloves and an oversize pair of plastic safety goggles. He’d deliberately waited until she was out of sight to fire up the saw so she wouldn’t see him wince and curse when he pulled the starter cord. He had no intention of showing her how much discomfort he was in—not actual pain, but that would probably set in before the day ended. Didn’t matter. He wanted this road cleared as quickly as possible.

Because the saw was so noisy, he communicated with shouts and hand motions, instructing her to stay at a safe distance while he cut, after which she could drag the smaller pieces off the road and into the ditch. Considering her formidable resolve, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Jenny threw herself into the job. It was dirty and sweaty work, but she pushed on gamely until her ponytail straggled against her damp neck, her clothes were muddy and her shirt had a small tear at the hem, perhaps from catching on a sharp branch. And still he had to force himself to concentrate on the potentially hazardous job at hand when his eyes wanted to turn in her direction instead. Even tousled and grubby—or perhaps especially so—something about her made his thoughts wander into dangerous and forbidden directions and brought back memories that heated his blood and hardened his groin.

Didn’t mean anything, he assured himself. He was a reasonably healthy male in the middle of a dry spell, so it was only natural for him to react to an attractive, temptingly tousled woman.

After two hours, she looked as though her energy was fading fast. He felt as though he’d been kicked in the shoulder by an angry horse. Turning off the saw, he set it on the ground and swiped at his sweat-beaded forehead with the back of his left hand. He’d removed several of the large limbs, but a few more needed to come off before he could even attempt to move the tree off the road. It was taking longer than he wanted to cut through the hard wood. He only hoped he had enough gas and oil on hand to finish the job.

He still needed to figure out a way to pull the tree out of the roadway, but maybe he could think more clearly after taking something for pain. He knew better than to swallow prescription pills and then run a power saw, so he’d settle for over-the-counter remedies. He glanced at Jenny. “You need a break.”

Even muddy, wet and wilted, she could skewer him with a lifted eyebrow. “I need a break?”

“We need a break,” he conceded grudgingly.

She nodded in satisfaction. “I just want to move this last branch.”

She took hold of a leafy limb the size of a small tree and gave a tug. It didn’t budge. Gavin stood beside her, grabbing the branch with his left hand. Their gloved hands almost touched. He had only to shift his weight a little to be pressed against her from behind. She glanced up at him over her shoulder and their eyes locked. Hers dilated a bit; his probably did, too.

He told himself again that some reactions were purely biological. And then quickly slid his hand down a couple inches from hers, ostensibly to get a better grip. “On three.”

With his count, Jenny pulled so enthusiastically he nearly fell backward when the branch shot forward. He put one foot back to steady himself, and reached out automatically with his right hand to get a better grip. A grunt of pain escaped him before he could swallow it. He hoped Jenny hadn’t heard, but he should have known better. She didn’t say anything, but he saw the sympathy on her face when he glanced at her.

He turned away. The one thing he had never wanted from Jenny Baer was pity. “Let’s go inside.”

* * *

Gavin insisted Jenny take the bathroom first to get cleaned up while he put on the kettle for tea. He was still making an effort to be a thoughtful host, she thought. Smiling a little, she closed herself in the bathroom, then glanced into the mirror. Her smile faded immediately. She reached hastily for a washcloth and a bar of soap.

When she rejoined Gavin in the kitchen, she spotted a bottle of over-the-counter pain relievers by the sink that hadn’t been there earlier. His shoulder had to be giving him fits, but he hadn’t complained once and she didn’t think he wanted her to ask.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the mug he offered her. The tea was still too hot to drink, so she carried it to the table and took a seat to wait for it to cool a bit.

“I checked the weather on my phone. Rain’s moving this way again, but maybe this round will pass through quickly.”

“I hope so.”

Gavin moved toward the bathroom, carrying his mug with him. “I’m going to wash up. Make yourself at home.”

She waited until he was out of sight before she let out a sigh and allowed her shoulders to sag. Spending time with Gavin was both easier than she might have expected and harder than it should have been. She’d come here to make decisions about her future and instead had been slapped in the face by her past. Wasn’t that ironic?

Needing a distraction, she reached for her phone. The signal was weak, but there was no one in particular she wanted to call. She’d texted her mother and Thad to let them know she’d arrived safely. She hadn’t mentioned that she wasn’t alone in the cabin. That had been a bit too complicated to explain to them by text or a quick, static-filled call.

When Thad traveled, he called every evening at 6:00 p.m., so reliably that she could set her clock by his ring. It was an arrangement they’d worked out together as a way of managing their equally hectic schedules, making sure they didn’t miss connections. “Their thing,” Thad called it teasingly. He’d phoned at that time yesterday, just as she was trying to get away for the drive here. He hadn’t hidden his concern about her solitary vacation, but he’d added that he hoped she had a relaxing few days and returned ready to make plans for their promising future together.

She’d always appreciated that Thad respected her choices, though sometimes she wondered fleetingly if it was mostly because his own life was so busy that he hardly had time to think about her issues. Still, he went out of his way to find time for their calls, proving he was willing to make compromises in their potential marriage, which was certainly important to her. After all, she and Gavin had broken up partially because neither had been willing to compromise their disparate goals and dreams. Wasn’t that only further evidence that a relationship based on logic and respect was more reliable than one based on passion and emotion?

She refused to answer. She’d been stubbornly resisting the unhappy memories her surprise reunion with Gavin had stirred up, and she certainly wasn’t going to sit here brooding about the past now. She focused more fiercely on her phone. The signal was strong enough to allow her to access her email. There weren’t many to deal with. Amber, her assistant, was taking care of the business for now. She read her text messages and saw a note from her long-time good friend, Stephanie “Stevie” McLane, checking to make sure she’d survived the storms. She typed a confirmation and received an immediate response.

Bored yet?

Jenny smiled wryly. Hardly, she typed.

Thought you’d have your fill of rustic isolation by now.

Not as isolated as I expected, she returned.

Meaning?

After hesitating for a few moments, Jenny drew a breath and replied, Gavin Locke is here.

No way!

That was pretty much how she’d expected Stevie to react. She could clearly imagine her friend’s blue eyes rounded with shock. Stevie had been her staunchest supporter after the split with Gavin, though Jenny had always wondered if her friend secretly considered the breakup a mistake.

Her phone beeped to announce another text. Did you know he’d be there?

Of course not.

Details, girl.

Will call later. She wanted to make that call only when she was certain Gavin wouldn’t overhear.

What about Thad?

Jenny frowned as her fingers tapped the screen. What about him?

Does he know?

Jenny moistened her lips before entering her answer. Nothing to know. Not like I planned it.

She bit her lip as she read Stevie’s answering text. How does Gavin look?

He looks... Jenny gave it a moment’s thought before typing good.

Still single?

Far as I know. Call you soon, okay?

You’d better.

“If you’re trying to make a call, you’ll get better service outside.” Gavin nodded toward her phone as he ambled back into the room. “I usually sit on the porch swing for clearer reception.”

Jenny set her phone aside. “Thanks, but I was just texting with Stevie. Do you remember her?”

“Of course. She was your best friend in college.”

“Still is.”

“Did she marry that guy she was dating? The drummer?”

Funny. Jenny had almost forgotten the drummer. She suspected Stevie had, too. “No. They broke up not long after... No.”

For some reason, she was reluctant to even refer to her breakup with Gavin.

“She’s still in Little Rock?”

“Yes. She’s dating another musician,” she confided with a faint smile. “A bass player this time.”

When it came to romance, Stevie was nothing if not an optimist. Yet Jenny had been increasingly aware that Stevie hadn’t said much about Jenny’s deepening relationship with Thad. She wasn’t sure why. She’d have thought Stevie would agree that Thad appeared to be Jenny’s ideal Mr. Right. He was handsome, wealthy, successful, socially secure. A junior partner in his family-connected, long-established law firm, Thad was already being courted by political-party bigwigs. He was considering a run for state representative in three years, and had already made a few trips to Washington to meet with some big shots there. Everyone they knew—their families, their friends, their associates—seemed to consider them the perfect couple.

Yet, oddly enough, rather than being as enthusiastic as Jenny might have expected, Stevie had been somewhat restrained in her encouragement for the match. Was Stevie too wrapped up in her own romance, or did she have some doubts about Thad that she wasn’t sharing? Did she question whether Jenny would ever truly be happy in a partnership based on considerations other than what Stevie would consider epic romance?

Sure, Thad was a confirmed workaholic who sometimes became so immersed in his ongoing projects and future goals that he tended to forget about everyone and everything else, but then Jenny had always been type A herself. She didn’t need a man’s constant attention. She genuinely liked Thad and she enjoyed his company when they found time to be together. She was sure they’d get along quite nicely as they built a satisfying future together. Why shouldn’t that be enough?

Realizing impatiently that she’d allowed her thoughts to wander again, she glanced at her watch. “Should we eat something before we go back out? Are you hungry?”

Gavin shook his head. “That next round of rain’s not going to hold off much longer. I’ll try to get some more clearing done while I can.”

She stood and moved toward the cupboards. “I spotted packages of peanut-butter crackers in here. At least eat some of those to protect your stomach from the meds.” She opened a door and motioned toward a top shelf, just above her head. “It was always your favorite snack.”

He moved behind her to reach the carton. The action brought them very close together. All he’d have had to do was lower his arm to wrap it around her shoulders. She’d have moved aside, but the counter was in the way. Any move she made would only brush her against him. Instead, she froze in place, almost holding her breath until he stepped back, the carton in his hand.

“You remember my fondness for these, do you?”

Able to breathe again now that there was a bit more distance between them, she laughed softly, grateful it came out relatively steady. “How could I forget? You stashed them in your car, in your backpack, in your dorm room, in my dorm room. Your friends used to joke that you should buy stock in a cracker company. I’m just a little surprised you haven’t gotten tired of them by now.”

His mouth quirked into a faint smile as he shrugged. “I don’t eat them as much as I used to, but they’re still a pretty good snack.”

She watched him rip into a cellophane packet, her smile feeling more natural as an amusing memory occurred to her. “Remember when your sister’s little white poodle tore into a whole carton while we were outside watching July Fourth fireworks at your parents’ house? We came back inside to find paper and cellophane and crumbs everywhere and the poor dog had peanut butter smeared all over her face. Holly got hysterical thinking her pet was going to die, but fortunately the dog got more in her fur than her belly.”

Gavin chuckled wryly. “Mom insisted on rushing the dog to an emergency animal clinic, just in case. We were going to have homemade ice cream after watching the fireworks, but it had all melted by the time the crisis was over. You know, that dog lived to be fifteen. Just died a couple years ago.”

“What was its name again? I can’t remember.”

Gavin made a face. “BiBi. I can’t forget because it ran off from Mom’s house one day when she was dog-sitting while Holly was out of town, just before Christmas. Mom called me in tears. I had to drive slowly around her neighborhood in my cruiser, calling the stupid name from my open window. ‘Here, BiBi. C’mere, BiBi.’ I felt like an idiot. It was sleeting. Took me an hour to find the half-frozen mutt, and then it had the nerve to pee on me when I picked it up.”

She couldn’t help laughing. He’d have hated every minute of that episode—but for his mother and sister, he’d have done it with only token grumbles. “That is too funny.”

“Glad you think so,” he muttered, though his lips twitched.

For a moment, she was swept back again to the early days of their romance, which had been filled with laughter. Her smile faded as she returned abruptly to the present. Leaning casually against the counter, Gavin gazed down at her, his eyes gleaming in the shadowy light. She felt the hairs on her arms rise, as if the air between them charged suddenly with static. She really needed to stop those mental flashbacks before they got entirely out of control.

Did Gavin sense the change, as well? His eyes narrowed, and even the hint of amusement vanished, leaving his face carved again into hard, inscrutable lines.

He grabbed a couple more packets of crackers and turned away. “I’m going back out. Rest awhile, if you want. I can handle things out there.”

She released a long, unsteady breath when the front door closed behind him. Wow, that had turned quickly. She’d just been reminded all too vividly of how quickly the laughter in their youthful relationship had dissolved into tears. She was annoyed to realize the memories could still sting, even after all these years, even after she’d long since assured herself she was over it.

She was tempted to stay safely inside while he continued the cleanup. Because that made her feel cowardly, she lifted her chin and refused to give in to the impulse. She reached for her borrowed work gloves and headed for the door. The sooner the road was cleared, the sooner this blast from the past would be over.





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