And socially, she’d paid for her desire to learn more. She’d never been particularly popular in school or college, more at home in the library than at a party, she’d always been responsible and level-headed. She’d never been drunk or even tipsy. Never smoked. Never raged or partied hard. She always stayed in control. She had to, with the way things often were with her mother. Still, she never resented her mother for the way things were. Marnie knew her mom couldn’t always control her behavior. She’d learned to have compassion from an early age, even when things were really bad.

  “So,” she said, shifting the subject from herself and pointing to the instrument sitting in the corner. “Who plays the piano?”

  “Dad plays,” Sissy replied, glancing up from her cell phone. “I can play a bit, but he’s really good at it.”

  Marnie suspected Joss Culhane would be good at most things.

  Snap out of it, woman!

  “A man of many talents,” she said.

  He looked up and met her gaze. “Not too many.”

  “He’s been playing since he was a kid,” Sissy announced.

  “I really wanted to play the drums,” he remarked, shoving the papers into a folder. “My mom refused to buy me a drum kit back when I had dreams of joining the Foo Fighters.” He grinned. “I got a piano instead.”

  Marnie smiled. “I pegged you more for a country and Western fan.”

  “I like most types of music,” he replied. “And all in moderation. Except for disco...that’s just an entire era we need to forget.”

  She laughed. “I love disco,” she admitted.

  He scowled and then grinned and seemed as though he was going to say something else, but the doorbell rang.

  “Our pizza!” Clare announced and jumped to her feet.

  Joss left the room and Sissy suggested they head for the kitchen. “We’re not allowed to eat in here,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  Ten minutes later they were all settled around the kitchen table, eating pizza and drinking sodas. The girls lasted about half an hour before Clare pleaded she was too full to even move and needed to lie down for a while, and Sissy headed off to take a shower.

  “And again, they’ve got out of cleaning up,” Joss remarked once Sissy left the room.

  “If it’s any consolation,” Marnie remarked, “I wasn’t keen on chores when I was their age. In fact, I’m not overly keen on them now. I do them, of course, because I’m a grown-up and as a grown-up I am forced to do things I know are good for me, but they still suck.”

  He laughed and the sound vibrated through her. “Yeah, that’s the kicker, hey, with being an adult. We don’t get to ditch the hard stuff as often as we could when we were kids.”

  “Some do,” she said and dropped the crust onto her plate. “I have a cousin, Trent... He’s a hopeless case. He surfs and lies around on the beach most days. Of course, the whole family adore him, too,” she added and smiled again. “My dad calls him a lovable loafer.”

  Joss grinned and then asked more seriously, “Are you close to your dad?”

  She shrugged. “I try to be. My mother never really forgave him for leaving. Sometimes it feels more strained than it should be. He tried to be a good father, too, in his way, but he’s hard to get to know and I don’t think we’ll ever have one of those enviable father-daughter relationships...you know, like you have with your kids. I guess, since my mom passed away, we’re trying to work out what kind of relationship we have.”

  “I don’t think parents deliberately set out to hurt their kids,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze with a kind of burning intensity that warmed her through to her bones. “If your dad pulled away from you, perhaps he did that because he felt guilty for not loving your mom enough to stay.”

  Marnie stilled, her chest tightening. “I don’t think my therapist has ever explained that as well as you just did.”

  He didn’t flinch at the word therapist, and it made her like him just that little bit more. She knew how judgmental people could be. Her mother had struggled with bipolar disorder for many years and Marnie had battled it with her. Seeing a therapist had helped, but the wounds from those times still ran deep.

  “Well, my father bailed when I was fourteen, a couple of years after my mom died, and left us in the care of my eighteen-year-old brother...so I know a little about screwed-up parents. I made a commitment to try to do a better job raising my kids than my own father did.”

  “You succeeded,” she said, coloring a little, conscious that something was stirring between them. She couldn’t peg it, couldn’t stop herself from thinking she was imagining it. “The girls are amazing.”

  And so are you...

  Gawd, get a grip!

  “Thank you,” he said and pushed back in the seat. “I’m not sure I can take all the credit, though. They’re both a lot like their mother, Clare particularly. And since Sissy is two weeks away from being officially a teenager, I’m sure I have some challenging times ahead.”

  “Teenage girls are the worst,” Marnie said and chuckled.

  “Thanks for the tip,” he said and drank some soda. “Is that why you’ve chosen to teach in elementary school...steering clear of teens?”

  “I wanted...” Her words trailed off. “I needed a change.”

  “Why do I get the sense of it being more than simply wanting to escape a cheating boyfriend?”

  “Because it is,” she replied, choosing her words. “I suppose you’ve always been one of those switched-on people who’ve never needed to escape anything?”

  “I’ve been tempted over the years,” he admitted. “Of course, with two kids and a business to run, the options are limited. I get one weekend a fortnight to myself,” he explained. “When the girls go to Rapid City to stay with my in-laws.”

  A free pass for a weekend? Was that what he was saying? He could act like a single, carefree guy and do whatever he wanted. That was what guys did, right?

  “Are you close to your in-laws?” she asked curiously.

  “Not particularly.” He shrugged. “They never thought I was good enough for Lara. Then again, I don’t imagine I’ll ever think anyone is ever good enough for my daughters.”

  “Do they have any other children?”

  “No,” he said. “Just Lara.”

  “So, they’re still grieving, then,” she said quietly. “Understandable, considering the circumstances.”

  “Are you sure that PhD isn’t in psychology?” he asked, his mouth turned up in a way that was altogether too attractive.

  Marnie’s skin prickled and an uneasy and heavy thrum began to course through her veins. He really did have the sexy thing down pat. He was ridiculously attractive. He was probably the most attractive man she’d ever met. And despite her initial misgivings—Joss Culhane was also damned nice to talk to.

  It should have sent her running for the hills, because finding him attractive—liking him—was a distraction she didn’t need. But Marnie couldn’t deny the intensely intimate connection she experienced when they talked and spent time together. Of course, it was completely one sided. She wasn’t foolish enough to imagine he felt it, too.

  Or was she?

  Chapter Five

  Marnie woke up around eight the following morning after spending a restless night in the narrow bed, having stared intermittently at the ceiling, the window and the posters on the walls. She’d bailed quickly on Joss the night before, once she realized she was spending way too much time thinking about how much she enjoyed hanging out with him. And how much she liked him.

  But lack of sleep had made her groggy. She gathered up her clothes and made a beeline for the bathroom, splashing some much-needed water on her face before she brushed her teeth and hair and changed into dark slacks and an emerald green sweater she knew threw color into her cheeks. She slipped on her glasses and looked at herself in the mirror. She’d always thought she had a nice smile and expressive eyes. A real woman, Heath had often said. Not fake or enhanced by fancy clothes or cosmetic procedures. Her sole claim to vanity was getting highlights in her hair every couple of months. She’d never liked makeup that much and mostly wore sensible and comfortable clothes. She wasn’t a risk-taker. She was a sensible, organized, well-respected history professor. She didn’t do hot guys with tousled hair. And she was suddenly extra weary from thinking about it.

  And of course, because that was the nature of things, she almost collided with Joss in the hallway.

  “Good morning,” he said easily, and she could have sworn his gaze lingered on her mouth for a moment, then decided she was imagining it. “Since you’re up, do you want to come and see the house this morning?”

  Marnie stilled in her tracks, trying to ignore how good he looked in jeans and a polo shirt. And she quickly noticed he had a tattoo reaching his elbow. Gawd. Ink made her knees weak. Especially the kind of Celtic chain that adorned his arm down to the elbow. She’d bet her boots that he had ink in other places, too.

  “Ah, sure,” she said. “I’ll put my stuff away and be right with you.”

  “Have coffee and breakfast first,” he suggested. “I promise that rubbery pancakes are off the menu this morning.”

  Marnie smiled and her belly did a foolish loop-de-loop, before she scurried off back to her bedroom and took a few minutes to gather her swiftly dwindling composure. The quicker she was out of Joss Culhane’s home and set up in the house down the street, the better.

  In the kitchen a few minutes later, she looked around and spotted only Joss behind the countertop. “Where are the girls?”

  “My brother Jake picked them up about half an hour ago and took them to the family ranch,” he explained, passing her a coffee mug. “My oldest brother has been giving them riding lessons, along with Jake’s son, T.J. The snow has eased off this morning so they should get a couple of hours in the saddle.”

  “They like horses?”

  “The name Culhane and horses go hand in hand,” he said and grinned.

  “So you’re, like, all cowboys?”

  “Part-time.” He grinned again. “We usually all help out when Mitch needs a hand. To be honest, Mitch is the only real cowboy, along with my sister, Ellie. The rest of us just get to pretend occasionally. Mitch is teaching the girls and T.J. about horsemanship and the ranch, so they’ll understand they’re a part of the history of the place. The Triple C is one of the oldest ranches in the county.”

  “That’s quite a legacy to be born into,” she said, feeling a little sting of envy. “It must be nice to be able to trace your family back for so many generations.”

  He nodded. “Yes, it is. What about your family?”

  Marnie inhaled sharply. “My dad’s parents died before I was born. He has only one sister, and I have a couple of cousins on that side of the family. My mom was adopted and didn’t have a great relationship with her parents. They had their own baby when my mom was thirteen—so she was pushed aside pretty quickly after that.”

  It sounded bad—but it was a truth that couldn’t be whitewashed. And she probably shouldn’t have said it, because she didn’t want too many questions.

  “But you said you were close to your mother, yes?”

  She nodded. “Very much so. What about you?”

  “My mom died when I was young,” he said, so quietly she actually took a step closer. “She had a heart attack, which was unexpected. I think I told you how my father took off a couple of years later,” he said and shrugged. “He couldn’t handle it. My brother Mitch was eighteen and got full custody of the rest of us.”

  Marnie knew a little of what he was saying. She’d hired a private detective to find out about Patience Reed, and of course there was some information about Abby Culhane’s marriage and her husband’s family. Marnie hadn’t been that interested in it at the time. It was Patience she wanted to know about. But now that she’d met Joss, she was interested—probably too much.

  “Well, we can’t pick our parents...and I’m sure most people start out thinking they’ll do right by their kids.”

  “For sure,” he said, moving around the counter. “Help yourself to whatever you want for breakfast, then we’ll head up to the house.”

  He left the room and Marnie remained where she was for a few moments, sipping her coffee and thinking that she’d talked more to Joss in thirty-six hours than she had to anyone else in months. Even when she talked to Shay, or her father, she skipped over what she was really feeling. It was what she’d always done—to protect her mother, to be the one who had it all together and took care of things.

  She shook off the feeling and memory and drank her coffee, snacking on a cupcake, knowing it wasn’t exactly a healthy breakfast, but she also knew she didn’t want to go rummaging through cupboards in someone else’s home. Joss returned about ten minutes later, rattling a set of keys.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded and followed, grabbing her coat on the way out. It had stopped snowing, like he’d said, but the ground was wet, and she glanced down at her heeled leather boots, thinking they weren’t exactly designed for South Dakota weather. With her fuller than fashionable frame, clothes were sometimes challenging to get right, but shoes always fit. Joss had on hiking boots and he shrugged into a sheepskin-lined jacket as they walked outside. They were on the sidewalk when she lost her footing and slipped, jerking forward, reaching out for the first thing she could find—Joss’s shoulder. And then, of course, she slipped again, and both her hands were planted directly onto his chest as he tried to steady her.

  “You okay?” he asked, looking down into her upturned face, the cool air smacking her cheeks and making her breathless.

  Marnie met his gaze, noticing how the intense green irises darkened a little, so close she could see the pulse beating in his jaw. Her fingers itched, suddenly, with the urge to touch him, to reach out and trace her fingertips along his cheek. She looked at his mouth, noticed his lips were parted a fraction and felt his cool breath on her forehead. Her libido did a wild and uncharacteristic leap. She’d never been that girl before—the one who experienced attraction with such powerful intensity. Everything about her life was moderate, calm, controlled. But Joss Culhane, with his broad shoulders, glittering green eyes and sinful mouth, made her body stand up and take notice.

  “I’m...sorry,” she said unsteadily and tried to regain her footing.

  His strong hands wrapped around her arms and he held her straight, the seconds suddenly agonizingly long and drawn out. “Better now?”

  She nodded, curling her toes inside her boots to regain her balance. It worked and she slowly lifted her hands from his chest, startled by the electricity tingling her palms. And appalled to think he knew exactly what was going on in her head.

  “Yes,” she insisted and straightened her back as he released her. “Thank you.”

  Thankfully, the house was only a short walk and he stopped by a white gate, swinging it back on its hinges. “Here we are.”

  Marnie walked through the gate and looked at the house. “It’s lovely.”

  “It’s all yours,” he said and ushered her forward. “For the next six months anyway.”

  Marnie followed him up the path and climbed the three steps to the porch. “How long have you owned the place?” she asked.

  “A few years now. It used to belong to Mrs. B’s mother.”

  “Mrs. B?” she queried.

  “She’s the housekeeper at the Triple C. She’s worked there for years. When her elderly mother went into a retirement place, I bought the house as a rental investment.”

  He opened the door and she followed him inside, down the hallway and into the front living room. It was a little different from the photos she’d seen online when she had first applied, brighter and airier than the pictures had shown. There were painters’ sheets on the floor and covers over the furniture and Marnie wrinkled her nose a little and then sighed. “It’s lovely.”

  “I’ll spend some time here today to get the painting finished.”

  She nodded and moved around the room, spotting the huge fireplace. “How long since someone lived here?”

  “About four months,” he replied. “I had a married couple in here for about a year. They were both nurse practitioners at the hospital and left once their contract was up. I’ve kept it vacant since then to work on the renovations. Most of the plumbing has been replaced and the whole house needed painting. The two bedrooms are down here, and a utility room I’ve changed into an office,” he said and gestured for her to follow him down another hallway. “The bathroom,” he said, pointing toward her left, and then walked a little further. He stopped outside one of the bedrooms and shrugged. “I have no idea if the bed is comfortable, but it’s clean and in good condition. If not, let me know. You’re leasing the place furnished, so I’ll buy a new mattress if you need one.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” she said as she glanced at the clean and comfy-looking mattress. “I’ll need to get some linen for the beds.”

  “No need,” he said and pointed to the cupboard in the hallway. “My sister, Ellie, went shopping with the girls last week and stocked the linen closet. And the kitchen has pots and pans and a full set of dishes and all that stuff...but let me know if you’re missing anything.”

  “You’re a very obliging landlord,” she said, meeting his gaze.

  His green eyes shimmered. “I’m an obliging guy.”

  “And modest?”

  He smiled and the action made her belly somersault. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never that.”

  She laughed, and in the small confines of the hallway, with barely any space between them, Marnie was quickly reminded that he was the hottest guy on the planet and she was...what? Ordinary? A woman who had happily relied on her smarts, not her looks, most of her life, dating men who were educated but average-looking by fashionable standards. And she was okay with that. She was okay with herself. She was proud of herself, of her achievments, of knowing that substance trumped being the most beautiful woman in the room.