His cap has a Guinness logo. I wonder if he bought it or if a vendor gave it to him for free.

  “You look amazing. I know we’re supposed to be creating distance, but you’re as hot as hell.” I come around the Jeep to stand in front of him. “I thought you should know that.”

  I can’t see his eyes for the dark shades perched on his nose, but his mouth is a flat line. Under those lenses, are his eyes heated with lust or wary with caution?

  “Trust me, Princess, hell doesn’t get as hot as you in those shorts.” He grabs me by the waist and jerks me close. I grin up at him as I clutch his bicep. I bet I resemble a romance novel cover’s heroine in this pose. “And you smell too good for words.”

  He leans down and nibbles my earlobe until my casual grip on his biceps turns into my clawing his bare arms.

  Inches from my face, his voice low and growly, he says, “Leave enough time after the hike for me to slide those shorts off your long legs and bury my face between your thighs, yeah?”

  Breathlessly I answer, “Okay.”

  “I want five orgasms. No less.”

  “I can do that,” I say, still breathless.

  He kisses my mouth. I melt against him.

  “Or we could skip the hike altogether?” Oh, boy, I can hear the hope in my own voice.

  “Nope. We’re doing it all. Within two hours’ time, evidently.”

  The hike lasts fifty-five minutes, so by the time we settle on the blanket I packed, we’re cutting it close. We’ve stopped about a mile from the Jeep to eat under a wide shade tree with a view of the pond.

  I pull out the container of chicken salad. “If we hurry, we can— What are you doing?”

  My question is asked with a smile because there’s not a lot of mystery surrounding what Dax is doing. He undid the button on my shorts and is now sliding the zipper south.

  Next he takes his sunglasses off and tosses them on the blanket, then spins his ball cap around backward.

  So. Freaking. Sexy.

  “Take off your shorts,” he demands.

  “Orgasm number one achieved.” I set aside the food.

  “Sorry. No cheating.”

  I remove my shorts as he fists the back of his T-shirt and pulls it over his head, knocking off his hat in the process. He replaces it right away, which means he has to know how hot he looks wearing it.

  He’s ridiculously gorgeous. Wide, tanned chest. Perfect pectorals dotted with flat male nipples. Low-slung, baggy shorts hovering at his hips.

  “Hot,” I say before I mean to.

  “You’re the hot one, babe.”

  My heart is pounding so hard, it’s a wonder I can’t hear it.

  “On your back, Princess.” He snags the edge of my bright pink panties and pulls them off.

  I do as I’m told.

  Dax kisses his way up my legs, lifts the left one, and settles one of my heavy boots on his shoulder.

  “Should I take my boots off? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You can’t hurt me,” he says while paying particularly close attention to the inside of my knee.

  I drop my head back and let my eyes slide shut, enjoying his mouth as he tongues my inner thigh. Enjoying the warm air and his warmer body brushing against mine.

  “Orgasm número dos.” I squirm, already damp from the attention he’s paying to my leg.

  “I’ll start counting when you start shouting my name.”

  I feel his smile as he nips me very, very close to where I want his tongue. I lift my head to find him all white-toothed smile and sin.

  Then he turns serious, and I lie back. My eyes closed, I enjoy the attention he’s paying me, my hands clutching the picnic blanket for purchase as lust coils tighter and tighter in my belly.

  I come. Again. And again.

  I lose count, but Dax doesn’t.

  When I surface, he’s on top of me, shorts down, sliding deep. He reminds me in a succinct, deliciously filthy way that I owe him “one more.”

  I give him that one too.

  On a shout that quiets the birds.

  Chapter 23

  THURSDAY

  Becca

  Rare is the occasion when Lara has a spare minute, so when my brother offers to take the girls out for ice cream and give her some alone time, I pounce.

  Carefully, because she doesn’t get a lot of time to herself.

  “Mani-pedi?” I ask, holding up the small cosmetic bag where I store my emery boards and polish.

  Lara narrows her eyes suspiciously. “What’s the charge?”

  “Free.” I grin.

  Her eyes close so much I lose sight of her irises. She knows me well.

  “The fee is that you listen while I talk through my relationship questions. You can talk through yours too.” I make a face as I reconsider. “Only, no intimate sex details about my brother or else you’ll scar me for life.”

  “Deal.” She shoos me away and grabs her purse. “But we’re discussing this over chardonnay, and you’re not required to do the manual labor.”

  Within the hour we’ve moved our girls’ day to a nail salon, where Lara and I sit side by side with our feet submerged in warm, bubbling water.

  We decided on pedis only, followed by lunch out. She texted Tad that he’s in charge of the girls for longer than he anticipated. If he minded, he never said so.

  He’s smarter than I give him credit for.

  “All right. We have wine in hand and our feet in miniature Jacuzzis. Out with it. What did you want to dish about?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing!” I sort of whisper-shout.

  She giggles at my plight. “You’re going to have to back up and fill me in on what I’ve missed.”

  After my hike and “picnic” with Dax yesterday, I tried to make amends with Tad. I returned to the office about thirty minutes later than I’d promised—hey, a girl’s gotta eat, plus, I worked out a lot. My late arrival was not well-received, especially since my brother knew whose company I was keeping. Tad was all, “That asshole has to go! He’s not allowed on my property!”

  Hopefully Tad doesn’t do something stupid—like pay Dax a visit. I love my brother, but I have a feeling if those two tussled, I’d be visiting Tad at the hospital and his entire body would be in traction.

  I kid, I kid. I don’t think Dax is that mean. But if Tad went over there and flapped his lips about me, I bet Dax would at least pop him in the nose.

  Today’s my day off, so I haven’t seen Dax. I’m not sure if I should. There are so many conflicting thoughts in my head that I don’t trust myself to go to the cabin and make any rational decisions. Not until I straighten myself out.

  Hence my running to Lara for help.

  “You’ve been cool about Tad and Dax nearly going to fisticuffs at Dad’s dinner,” I tell her.

  She shrugs and sips her white wine. I do the same. It’s delicious and, paired with pampering, downright heavenly. Lara’s wine and pampering are hard won. She works so much more than I do. Sure, I’m at the intersection of What’s Going On Street and Hot Guy Avenue, but it’s Lara who’s maintaining a household and raising tiny humans to be incredible adults. Plus, she has to deal with my brother. Like, daily.

  “Boys will be boys,” she says. “I know Tad has a temper. You know your brother has a temper.”

  I nod.

  “I trust your judgment of Dax. I ran to your defense where he was concerned, and you put me in my place quickly. I was looking after you, but you didn’t need it. You know what you’re doing, Bec. It’s different than what I’d do, but that’s not the point.”

  “What would you do?” I ask almost desperately. Then I realize I haven’t filled in the gaps for her like she asked. “If your one-night stand turned into a two-week stand and the ball was in your court and he liked you more than you ever imagined possible but you don’t know what to do because no one has ever liked you that much before—what would you do?”

  Her eyebrows climb her forehead as she listens to my run-on question.

  “I’d be thrilled,” she answers. “That’s what happened with Tad and me. I was determined to stay single. He fell in love with me in about forty-eight hours.”

  “I remember.” I smile. There was so much happiness in my brother’s voice when he called to tell me about Lara, I almost didn’t recognize that it was Tad Stone on the other end of the line. “You were determined to stay single?”

  “Yep.”

  “And he changed your mind?”

  “I regrouped.” She puts a hand on my arm. “After two months. In my head, it was too soon to know, even though I really did know. Now that I look back, there never should’ve been any doubt.” Her smile is genuine and the slightest bit softer thanks to the wine. In her eyes dances the wisdom of a woman who got it right. She has a nine-year marriage and two beautiful kids under her belt. “I was afraid of the unknown. That’s what you’re feeling, Becca.” She loses her smile abruptly and says, “Unless it’s not that. Is he behaving like a jerk?”

  “Dax isn’t a jerk. That’s the problem. I’m used to dealing with jerks. He’d be easier to send packing if he treated me like crap. I know how to react when a guy is a flake.” I shake my head. “Dax tossed my playbook out the window. When he brought up the possibility of my coming to Ohio, I was quick to step in and tell him that I wasn’t going. I told him I didn’t want him interfering in my life or with my family. He backed off.”

  The women administering our pedicures return with polish colors and Lara and I choose—she goes with pale pink and I choose hot pink. She always was the tame one of the two of us—with nail polish colors anyway. In relationships I’m the one scared of my own shadow. Lara is brave compared to me.

  I lower my voice, considering we have an audience now, and lean closer to Lara. “He backed way off. Sex when I say and no more talking about personal matters.”

  “And that’s what you want?” she asks, her tone neutral.

  “I thought so. I don’t want to live in Ohio. I like Tennessee. I like working for Grand Lark. Being close to my nieces is really nice.”

  “My, what a glowing review.” Her voice is playful. “Besides ‘liking’ where you are and it being ‘really nice,’ are you feeling called elsewhere?”

  “I don’t know.” I set my wine aside. Heart pounding, I ask her the question that’s been knocking around in my head since last night. “Would you follow a guy you barely know to another state in the hopes that it works out?”

  “Depends on how much potential I saw in the guy.” She waggles her ring finger at me. I must look pretty crestfallen, because she pats my arm, consoling me.

  “It was the right decision for me to leap in with both feet with your brother, but that doesn’t mean the same reaction would be right for you. There’s only one you, Becca. Only you know if it’s right to answer the call or let it go to voicemail.”

  Answer or let it go. I cringe at how final those two choices are.

  Lara must pick up on my conundrum because next she says, “You can always try and return the call later.”

  “Return it later,” I mumble as hope bursts to life in my chest. “We can finish out the week, and he can leave, and then if I miss him, I can pick it up later.”

  The solution is so stupidly simple.

  I lift my wineglass, feeling freer, lighter. I was so gummed up in my head, I hadn’t even considered a third choice. Not a yes or no but a maybe.

  Oh, how I love maybes.

  “Unless he meets someone else when he goes back to Ohio,” Lara says before the wine touches my lips.

  I snap my attention to my sister-in-law, who swallows the wine in her mouth before apologetically amending, “Which would be totally okay! Then you’d know it wasn’t meant to be!”

  “Would you have been okay leaving Tad in fate’s hands?” I already know the answer. Lara prefers control over her destiny. Her wan smile tells me she absolutely wouldn’t have been okay leaving Tad in fate’s hands.

  “If you love something, set it free,” the dark-haired woman at my feet says.

  “If it loves you, it’ll come back.” Her blond cohort nods as she carefully paints Lara’s toenails.

  “Love,” I murmur, feeling the burdensome weight of all four letters.

  “You don’t have to love him to set him free,” Lara says, picking up the dropped ball.

  “That’s a relief.”

  Love is big and scary and I’m not sure I completely understand it. It looks like obligation and risk. Except for where my brother and sister-in-law are concerned. Then it looks like matrimony and two kids and a household that’s run like a small business.

  Yikes.

  I don’t know which sounds more terrifying.

  FRIDAY MORNING

  Dax

  I’m up at dark, coffee in hand, when a truck pulls down my rental’s driveway. I watch out the window as Becca’s brother parks and climbs out, and then makes his way toward the house.

  I sigh in resignation before I step outside to meet him. I figured it’d come to this.

  He’s not boiling over like he was last week, but he ain’t happy with me. Imagine that.

  “Morning.” I lift my mug and offer, “Coffee?”

  “This isn’t a social visit.” He ascends the steps of the porch slowly. Shoulders pushed back and chin up. Ready to rumble.

  I hope I don’t have to hit him.

  “I don’t want any trouble, Stone.” To prove my point, I take a seat on one of the rocking chairs and sip my coffee.

  He hovers indecisively for a moment before sitting in the rocker next to mine, his gaze on the forest in front of us. After a few minutes of listening to the birds chirping, he says, “I came here to ask you to leave.”

  “I figured.”

  An indecisive squirrel darts down the tree, then up, then down again.

  “What are you doing with my sister?” he asks.

  “If you’re asking for specifics, you’re not getting them.”

  He grunts in agreement, but we both know that’s not what he’s asking.

  “If you’re asking what my intentions are—”

  “Are you moving her to Ohio?” His patience must’ve run out. I’m surprised he had any to start with.

  “Far as I know, I’m the only one going back to Ohio. Becca has no interest in joining me.”

  “Good.” His mouth flattens and he watches the same squirrel dart about before shifting gears. “I married a smart woman. A woman who told me that you made a valid point that night at Dad’s.”

  Wow. I didn’t see that coming.

  “The night I almost kicked your ass,” he adds.

  It’s a cheap shot I let him have. I smile against the rim of my mug.

  “I don’t trust Becca for one simple reason. She’s never given me a reason to trust her not to hurt herself. She’s the baby. She’s the one who jets off without notice, or leaps into traffic without looking, or—”

  “Goes zip-lining without warning?” I interject.

  “Did she make you do that too?” For the first time, I witness him lightening up. He sighs, his concern evident. “She’s careless. She doesn’t worry, which means I have to be the careful one. The one who worries about her. Someone has to look out for her.”

  “You feel responsible for her.”

  “She’s my sister and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

  “So your idea was to boot me out of Grand Lark not because of what I did but because—”

  “Of what you’re doing with her.” We glance at each other and then he frowns. “Of what I thought you were doing with her. You’re not using her, are you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You were serious about Ohio.”

  “I was. She’s not interested.”

  I watch his face as that info sinks in. Then Tad’s expression changes altogether. Suddenly he’s a guy who can relate to another guy who likes a girl a lot more than she likes him.

  “She shot you down and you backed off,” he concludes with a nod.

  It’s not a question, so I don’t answer. I didn’t exactly offer, and she didn’t exactly shoot me down, but close enough. The result’s the same.

  “But she’s still seeing you.”

  “On her terms,” I tell him.

  “You’re letting her do what she wants. Come and go as she pleases. It’s what she does best.”

  I drink my coffee.

  “Shit, Vaughn.” He laughs. “I don’t need to kick your ass. Sounds like Bec did it for me.”

  I let him have that one too. I promised Becca I’d be who she needed me to be while I was here. Socking Tad in the mouth isn’t about her at all—it’d be about me. And as we’re all clearly aware, I’m checking out soon. No good could come of punching him in the face, save a fleeting moment of triumph.

  Tad stands and walks down the porch steps. When he reaches his truck, he opens the door and pauses to call out, “Guess I should’ve warned you about my sister when you sat down at my bar. She’s the heartbreaker, not the one whose heart is broken.”

  “I wouldn’t have listened,” I call back.

  “Yeah.” He nods, adding another head shake as he climbs in the truck. “Yeah.”

  He drives off and I toss the remainder of my cooling coffee in the greenery below as the friendly neighborhood squirrel dashes from tree to tree like he’s already had a cup or three.

  I wouldn’t have listened, but would I have approached our time together differently?

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  But I would’ve approached her. No doubt about it.

  Chapter 24

  FRIDAY, LATE MORNING

  Becca

  Tad left the house at the ungodly hour of six A.M.—and he was whistling this morning. Whistling! I went back to sleep for several glorious hours before straggling in at my scheduled time of eleven.

  Okay, okay, 11:20.

  “Sorry! Traffic!” I announce when I walk into Grand Lark’s restaurant. “I allowed extra time, I swear. I don’t know where it goes. If minutes were made of marbles instead of thin air, I could keep better track of them.”