“What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure I want you to know.”

  He chuckled softly. “Tell me.”

  Could she? Would Joss knowing her heart was beating madly when she was so close to him, make her vulnerable?

  “I was thinking that you really are ridiculously attractive,” she said and then wanted to snatch the comment back. “But you’d have to know that, right?”

  His brow rose. “I would?”

  “Beautiful people always know they’re beautiful.”

  “That’s quite a judgment.”

  She shrugged, feeling the air between them crackle. One-sided, of course. She wasn’t deluded enough to think he was affected by their close proximity.

  “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

  The question was out before she could stop herself.

  His mouth curled a little at the edges. “Do you really want to know?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business and completely inappropriate and I can’t—”

  “I haven’t had a serious relationship since my wife died because I don’t trust anyone to care about my kids as much as I do.”

  It was quite an admission to a question she had no right to ask. And it made perfect sense.

  Except...she wasn’t sure she believed him. “Or maybe you’re afraid that you’ll lose what you have? Afraid to feel again?”

  He looked stunned at her observation, but quickly recovered. “Maybe. But we’re all a little driven by our emotions, don’t you think? Why else would you stay with a man who repeatedly cheated on you?”

  It was a good question. At the time she’d put it down to pressure from her peers and friends. While her friends and collegues were settling down, getting enagaged, getting married, having kids, Marnie had longed for a loving and commited relationship of her own. But now, staring up into Joss’s face, meeting his gaze in a way that was so intense she could barely breathe, she wasn’t so sure. Peer pressure suddenly seemed like a weak excuse. The truth was a harder pill to swallow and even harder to admit to. But she said it, anyway, “I think I believed it was all I deserved.”

  * * *

  Joss couldn’t move his feet. Marnie had his number. She had him pegged without even trying. If he had any sense, he’d move his feet and continue showing her the house and forget about the way her perfume attacked his senses, or the way her mouth moved when she spoke. Or the way her hips swayed with an easy, elegant grace when she moved. He’d forget everything about her that was toying with—no, tormenting—the foundations of his good sense.

  “No one deserves to be treated like that,” he said quietly and forced his limbs to work, moving down the hallway and into the kitchen. “This room and the second bedroom still need painting,” he said when she appeared beside him.

  “It’s great,” she said and crossed her arms, pushing her chest up in a way that had him quickly looking away because he wasn’t that guy. But be damned if there wasn’t something about her that hiked his awareness up a notch or two. Or more. “I’m looking forward to moving in.”

  And Joss was looking forward to her moving out.

  He didn’t need any more distraction in the form of quiet, earnest conversations. Or smiles that made his gut churn. Or to have her perfume winding its way through him and attacking his libido.

  “I’m going to head to the ranch midmorning to collect the girls. My sister-in-law is putting on a lunch thing for the family. You’re welcome to come with me.”

  Please don’t say yes...

  She uncrossed her arms. “Ah...okay.”

  “You don’t have to,” he said quickly, backpedaling, because he really didn’t want to spend any more time with her and then question his motives. He didn’t like her, right? She was too irritating. She was too intuitive. Not his type. “If you’d rather stay—”

  “I said I would go,” she replied and moved further into the room.

  That settled, they stayed for another few minutes and then Joss locked up and they headed home. He disappeared into his study for a while, muttering something about having work to do, and emerged around ten thirty, finding her in the living room flicking through something on her cell phone.

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  She nodded and got to her feet and minutes later they were on their way. The Triple C was on the other side of town and the drive took about twenty minutes. Enough time for Joss to stay quiet and convince himself that he wasn’t, in any way whatsoever, attracted to Marnie Jackson.

  Except, she kept talking. About the weather. About the snow. About how she planned on doing some sightseeing once her car was back on the road. About how much she was looking forward to settling into the house and starting work at the school. And he liked the sound of her voice—it was soft and a little husky, with a gentle lilt at the end of each word. It was oddly soothing and, for some reason he couldn’t define, evoked a surge of memory, reminding him of things he’d long forgotten. Of sitting on the porch a warm summer evening. Of homemade lemonade. Of soft laughter. Of the scent of cookies baking. Of holding hands. Of kisses and the promise of what was to come once the kids were in bed and the night was their own.

  And then he realized exactly why the images were so strong.

  Marnie Jackson reminded him of all he had lost.

  “Did you say something?” she asked, jerking him from his thoughts.

  Joss swallowed hard. “Ah, no.”

  But the realization made his insides twitch and as hard as he tried to shake off the feeling, he couldn’t. It irritated him. He didn’t want anyone reminding him of the life he’d had with Lara. He’d programmed himself to never feel like that with anyone, ever. And really, they were nothing alike. Sure, Lara had the same kind of husky tone, and she always made him own his behavior when he was being a jerk, and she had a wide, tempting mouth. And yeah, they were the same height and had other physical similarities. Lara had always carried a few extra pounds, much to her dismay. But Joss had always thought it made her womanly and sexy. He’d always like curvy women. Tall, skinny women weren’t his thing. Except—they were his usual go-to when he went out and hooked up. Which didn’t happen that often, anyhow. For a while, a few years after Lara’s death, he’d gone through a string of one-night stands. But these days, he was too busy, and simply too damned tired, to make the effort to try and flirt or hook up. And really, he didn’t want to be that guy. He wanted to be a man and a father his daughters could respect—not someone who hooked up with faceless women to forget his troubles. Or how much his heart hurt almost 24/7.

  The gates to the Triple C loomed ahead and he drove through them, dropping his speed as they headed up the long driveway. No matter how many times he saw it, the ranch always filled him with the sense of family. Even during the bad times, after his mother, Louise, passed away. And then later, when Billie-Jack went off the rails. Even through the terrible time when Hank lay fighting for his life in the hospital and Mitch was trying to keep them all together and out of Social Services...the ranch was an anchor, a place where they could all feel safe.

  The house came into view and he heard her sharp intake of breath. It was impressive, he thought, looking at the familiar lines of the large, double-story home with its wraparound veranda and gabled roof, and the large balcony upstairs that gave a spectacular view of the ranch.

  “Wow,” she said. “What an amazing place.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed and pulled up outside. He could see his brother working with the kids in the largest of the three corrals and suggested they head there once they got out.

  A dozen or so chickens scattered as they made their way across the yard, and he weaved a path through the leftover snow and slush on the ground, to where the kids were all on ponies, doing loops around a series of barrels set up in the corral, while his brother stood in the center, giving direction. Joss rested a foot in the bottom tread and noticed that she did the same. Her boots were high-end, suede, definitely not ranch material, and probably cost a small fortune. He wasn’t a snob, but he suspected she had money to go along with the poise and education.

  “This is on my bucket list.” She sighed. “Learning how to ride a horse,” she explained. “I don’t have a lot of rhythm, though. I mean, I’m a terrible dancer, and as you discovered this morning, will trip over a flat surface.”

  Joss grinned. “It was slippery.”

  She gave an agreeable shrug and gestured to the horses. “I guess this came as natural to you as breathing?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “What’s that like?” she asked, smiling. “Being good at everything?”

  Joss made a scoffing sound. “I’m not. Besides, I could ask you the same thing since you’re the one with a PhD.”

  “But you can ride a horse and play the piano, right? And Clare has bragged about how well you can sing. I can’t hold a note. When I was a kid, my cousin and I used to say we were going to be a famous girl band and call ourselves S&M... Yeah, well, that didn’t work out because I sound like a howling cat when I sing.”

  Joss laughed so loud he saw his brother glance in their direction and then thought he must look like he was having a good time hanging out with Marnie. Big mistake. He didn’t want any looks. Looks led to speculation.

  “Let’s go up to the house and I’ll introduce you to Tess, my sister-in-law.”

  He turned and began walking before she had a chance to reply.

  * * *

  By the time they got to the front door, Marnie was almost out of breath. Her shorter steps were no match for Joss’s long strides. She followed him inside and had to stop herself from staring as she took in the sight of the incredible ranch house. The polished floors gleamed, and the wide staircase curled around until it disappeared upstairs. There were pictures hung in the stairwell and she fought the urge to race on ahead and have a look. Instead, she walked behind him down the hall, maintaining a discreet distance and trying not to ogle his fine-looking rear end.

  There were three women and one man in the huge kitchen. An older woman stood behind the countertop and two younger women were by the table, while the man, who had the same green eyes as Joss and was kind of movie-star handsome, sat on a stool on the other side of the counter.

  Joss made the introductions quickly. Mrs. B, who was the housekeeper, Tess, his brother Jake, and Abby, Jake’s wife.

  My cousin.

  The words almost flew from her lips. Marnie looked at the other woman, searching for similarities, for eye color, hair color. Something. Anything. A way to almost telepathically tell Abby Culhane that they were related. Kin. Family.

  And then she realized she was now one step closer to reconnecting with her grandmother.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Tess said and gestured to a chair. “Welcome to the Triple C. And to Cedar River. Clare was telling us you are going to be her new teacher.”

  “For a while, yes,” Marnie replied, conscious that they were clearly all curious about her. Well, she was curious, too.

  “Are you taking over the advanced classes from Mrs. Corelli?” Abby asked. “Our son takes her class once a week.”

  “I believe so. I’ll get my full curriculum when I start next week.”

  “It’s a great school,” Abby said with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll love it there.”

  “I hope so,” she said. She realized that Joss had left the room. And Jake quickly excused himself and disappeared, as well.

  “Coffee?” Tess suggested, and within a couple of minutes Marnie’s coat was hanging on the back of a chair and she was seated at the table with both women, while Mrs. B hovered behind the counter, preparing food. “So, you’re staying with Joss for a few days?”

  She saw the query and the curiosity in both women’s expressions. “Yes, that’s right,” she replied and briefly explained about the accident, her double-booked accommodation and the lack of vacancy at the big hotel in town.

  “Yes,” Abby said and nodded. “I’m head chef at the restaurant at O’Sullivan’s. This convention has been booked solid for months. I’m working the dinner shift tonight and the lunch and dinner shift tomorrow. I’ll be sure to ask the concierge about any cancellations, but your chances aren’t looking good, all things considered.”

  “The girls told me they’ve liked having you stay with them,” Tess said, her gaze clear and inquisitive. “How are you getting along?”

  “With Clare and Sissy?”

  “With Joss,” Tess specified and smiled.

  “Just fine,” she replied, heat creeping up her neck. “It was very nice of him to put me up, considering I arrived so early, but he says I’ll be in the rental house by Tuesday. I’m looking forward to doing some sightseeing around town. And trying the restaurant at O’Sullivan’s,” she added and looked toward Abby.

  “The food’s great,” Abby said. Then she laughed and gestured toward Tess. “Just watch this one,” she warned, still grinning. “I can see she’s got her matchmaking hat on.”

  Marnie almost spluttered out her coffee. “Ah...what?”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Tess said. “So, you’re not married? No boyfriend?”

  “Um...no... I recently broke up with someone and I don’t think—”

  “Exactly,” Tess said and chuckled. “That’s the trick. Don’t think, just go with it.”

  Marnie was about to make the correction of the century when another woman appeared in the doorway. Younger by a few years, and with a mane of bright red-gold hair and glittering green eyes. A Culhane, for sure.

  Ellie Culhane, she discovered moments later. The youngest sibling. A friendly, chatty woman whom she liked instantly. She took a seat opposite Marnie and told Marnie all of her favorite places in town.

  “Best restaurant, O’Sullivan’s, of course,” Ellie said with a wink at Abby. “Rusty’s is the best place for dancing and catching up. We usually have a booth seat booked every Friday. I mean, me and my brother Grant and best friend, Winona. But they got married a few months back and are having a baby, so they’re kind of in this couple bubble at the moment and are like a boring old married couple now.”

  “Hey,” Tess and Abby said in unison.

  Ellie waved a dramatic hand. “You know what I mean. Married people have a way about them. Anyway, if you ever want to go out, Marnie, let me know. I’ll give you my cell number before you leave today.”

  Marnie smiled, amused that she’d found someone who talked more than she did.

  An hour later, the lessons were over, the kids were washed up and Mrs. Bailey had set up a buffet-style lunch on the sideboard in the dining room. Clare hovered at her side and Marnie was glad for the company. There were a lot of Culhanes in the room and it was a little overwhelming. She longed for the chance to speak with Abby again, to gather some intel, to find a way to ask questions about Patience Reed.

  She placed food on her plate, trying not to feel conspicuous as the only stranger in the room. And Clare, bless her, stuck by her side until she found a place at the table.

  And as fate would have it, right beside Joss.

  “Everything okay?” he asked when she was seated, him on her right, Clare stuck like glue to her left.

  Marnie nodded and felt the sounds around her amplifying as the seconds ticked by. “Yes, of course.”

  “They’re a noisy bunch,” he said, quickly interpreting her reaction. “And there’s actually a couple of them missing.”

  “Your twin?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “And my youngest brother and his wife.”

  “Who are in a couple bubble,” she said and grinned, looking sideways. “According to your sister.”

  He groaned a little. “Gotta love Ellie. But she’s right.”

  “I wonder what that feels like,” she said quietly and then wished that she hadn’t, because his fork stilled midair and he held her gaze with blistering intensity.

  “Maybe you’ll find out one day.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. I’m not sure I’m a ‘couple bubble’ kind of person. I don’t think I feel things that deeply.”

  As soon as she said it, she wanted to snatch the words back. And then realized she did that a lot around Joss. He had a way of getting her to say what was on her mind—and for someone who rarely talked about herself, or her deepest feelings, it was an alien place to be.

  “Who was born first, you or your brother?” she asked, shifting the subject.

  “Me. Older and wiser, by about seven minutes.”

  “I’d love to have a sibling.”

  He discreetly gestured around the table. “Please, have one of mine.”

  She laughed softly, relaxing a little, and wondered if he knew how brilliantly green his eyes were. “Actually, I’m a little jealous.”

  His gaze narrowed, and he took a moment, clearly trying to find the right words. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”

  “To you?” She sighed. “Seems that way.”

  “Funny that,” he said and speared a piece of asparagus on his plate. “And unexpected.”

  “Go figure. You’re easy to talk to. Which I wouldn’t have said two days ago because when you towed my car you were an unbearable grouch.”

  “In my defense,” he said, looking earnest, “even though it’s my job, you did drag me out of the house late on a Friday evening. And it was cold and snowing. They’re kind of grouchy circumstances, don’t you think?”

  She smiled. “For sure. It’s nice how your whole family has stayed in Cedar River.”