Piper laughed. “Not much. Most of those people are real to each other. It’s only the screen personas and the marketing machines that make the public think differently about them. But Cal—” She broke off.

  “Go on,” Meghan prompted. “But Cal what?”

  “He’s different from all of them.”

  “How do you feel about him?”

  “Feel?” Her brows rose. “I barely know him.”

  “True, but we both know that when there is an attraction between two people, it deserves to be explored. Do you like him enough to want to go out with him again?”

  Piper turned over Meghan’s question, coming up with several answers and discarding them. She’d told Cal she didn’t want to repeat their dinner. Not in those words, but the implication was there. She knew it wasn’t the truth when she told him that. There were too many things flowing through her mind. Xavier was one of them. Being hurt again. Getting involved with someone who wasn’t planning to stick around. Her own issues regarding her future or lack of a future.

  Meghan waited patiently for her answer. Did she want to go out with Cal again? It didn’t take long for Piper to answer the question in her mind. It took a while for her to voice the words.

  “I wouldn’t mind,” she whispered.

  “Did he ask you?”

  She nodded.

  “What did you say?” Meghan’s excitement jumped up a notch.

  “I told him I enjoyed my own cooking.”

  Meghan’s face fell. “Are you planning on living alone forever? I know Xavier hurt you, but you can’t judge all men by him.”

  “I’m not judging. I’m just not ready,” Piper said.

  “It’s been a year, Piper. When are you going to be ready?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Meghan gave up on her then. “Well, did he take you home?”

  “I had my own truck. He walked me to the parking lot and followed me all the way to my door. Not that I needed that.”

  “But he’s a gentleman,” Meghan finished.

  Piper admitted that to herself. “Apparently, he was reared to be respectful of women.”

  “So, no kiss good-night?”

  * * *

  THIS WAS ALL Meghan’s fault, Piper thought as she stood at the fence watching her horses exercise. Why had she asked that question? Piper hadn’t thought about kissing Cal. Now it was all she could think of. As soon as Meghan mentioned a good-night kiss, it suddenly dropped on her how disappointed she was that he hadn’t tried.

  She expected him to arrive for his lesson in a few minutes. Piper had told him daily lessons didn’t fit her schedule. But when Cal called earlier, asking if she’d had a cancellation, she worked him in. Piper blamed Meghan for this change of tack, too. Why didn’t she stick to her rule? The truth was, she had the time. But he got under her skin. She wanted to see him, she admitted, talk to him even though she knew he was as dangerous as a hot branding iron. Piper needed to be on her guard, get her emotions under control. Neither of them was looking for a relationship. She knew beginning one would mess up both their lives and she wasn’t entertaining another messy future.

  Bringing her attention back to the ranch, Piper shook her head as if she could shake off the troublesome thoughts that were forefront in her mind. The horses helped. She could pinpoint the exact moment when she fell in love with horses. As a child, she’d seen them in books, but it was her first time at the ranch that she saw a live horse and her love for the animal began. Her aunt told her that her eyes grew as large as the horse. Nothing had attracted her that way since. She’d spent every waking moment learning about them and learning to ride. While Cal had trained on his side of the world, she’d done the same on hers.

  Horses were the reason she got her first stunt job. Standing against the fence now, she had the same rush of feeling as she watched the horses go about their playful exercises as she’d had her first day on set with cameras rolling.

  Her phone rang. Pulling it from her back pocket, she expected it to be Cal canceling his lesson. But she was surprised to see Tamara St. John’s name and image appear on her small screen.

  “Tamara,” Piper said, happy to hear from her.

  Tamara should have been on screen as a sexy ingenue instead of a stuntperson. She was outgoing, talented, and had a killer smile. She even had the perfect name for the silver screen. Piper could see it as a credit: starring Tamara St. John. Yet Tamara chose to pursue stunt work instead of acting.

  Piper had hired her for Xavier’s last project and Tamara had proved herself. Not only was she a master at movement and makeup, but she was nearly a magician in her ability to become someone else. And even though Piper had left the industry behind, she still considered Tamara her friend. So when calls appeared on her phone from Tamara, Piper always answered.

  “How’s it going?” Piper asked after their greeting.

  “Fine. Busy. We just wrapped a job.”

  She heard the words, but she also heard the hesitation in her friend’s voice. The two had always been able to read each other’s feelings. Often, they could share a joke just by looking at each other. “What is it?”

  Tamara sucked in a long breath. “Like you, I’ve decided to make a change and I need your help.”

  “Sure. What can I do?”

  “I want you to come back,” Tamara said.

  Piper’s back went up immediately. She stood up straighter. “Tamara—”

  “Let me finish,” Tamara interrupted.

  “Okay.”

  “No one knows this yet, so you have to keep it a secret.”

  Piper had no idea where this was going. She waited for Tamara to continue.

  “I’m thinking of starting my own stunt business.”

  “Tamara, that’s wonderful,” Piper said excitedly. She was also relieved that something more tragic hadn’t happened.

  Piper was thrilled for her friend. She knew Tamara would be successful. She was intelligent, well-liked by everyone and had a lot of connections.

  “I want you to be my partner.”

  “No.” Piper shook her head as if the two could see each other.

  “Hear me out,” Tamara said, her voice a little tight.

  “There’s nothing you can say that will get me back to California. I’ve been in that fire and it burns long and hot. Besides, I’d be a liability to your business. Xavier has seen to that.”

  “You know I don’t believe Xavier. He’s out for himself and no one else.”

  How well Piper agreed with that. It was too bad she hadn’t known it when she was in a relationship with him.

  “Things haven’t been going that well for him since you left.”

  “You just said you finished a project.”

  “We did, but we don’t have any new contracts, nothing big at least.”

  “He’s not doing well?” Piper was unsure how she felt about that. She’d worked side by side with him for three years. The two had been more than friends, but he’d been the cause of her downfall. At least he’d assured it happened.

  “He’s still solvent and is holding on to a few contracts for upcoming movies, but more and more jobs are going elsewhere. His plans seem more like do-overs than innovations. You were the brains behind him, and with you gone...” She left the sentence hanging.

  Piper knew she’d given Xavier ideas to make the stunts better. Most, if not all, of his plans were eventually replaced with suggestions that came from her. Of course, he took credit for them. Piper assumed he’d share the limelight, but time and again he’d explain that she wasn’t ready to design and handle a project alone. After a while, she’d let the argument go, reminding herself that Xavier owned the business and she voluntarily offered suggestions that he used. Piper also thought their relationship was more important.

  Then he gave her the chance to design and create her own stunt project—one that would bear her name. She didn’t realize it would turn out so badly and would forever be tattooed to her memory.

  “Piper?” Tamara called. “Are you still there?”

  “Sure, I’m here,” she said, coming back from her checked past.

  “Well, will you think about it?”

  “I don’t know, Tamara. Hollywood isn’t very welcoming to someone who’s been blamed for the crash-and-burn stunt I orchestrated.”

  “You have more friends here than you think. And I don’t believe for a moment that the stunt wasn’t designed perfectly. Something else happened.”

  Piper thought that, too. “Maybe,” she said. “But there’s no proof of that.”

  In fact, looking for that something was why she’d been going over and over the accident in her mind for the past twelve months. Something else had to have happened. But what? And why couldn’t she find it?

  “So, what do you think?” Tamara asked.

  She frowned, thankful they weren’t on a video call and that Tamara couldn’t see the frown on her face. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? I thought you might want to go in front of the camera someday.”

  “I thought about that, but it’s not for me. I like doing what I’m doing. It feels right, you know?”

  She did know. Although the accident had divided her true friends from those who were loyal to Xavier, there were some good colleagues she still had on her side.

  “Let me think about it,” Piper said, knowing however long Tamara gave her to decide, her answer would have to be no. Owning her own stunt business was something Piper had thought of herself. Except Piper had never gone beyond the notion of striking out on her own.

  “All right,” Tamara said. “I’m willing to meet with you and discuss the details, show you my plan.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll let you know.”

  “I’ll give you a call next week,” Tamara said.

  Piper clicked the phone off and slipped it in her back pocket. With her hands on the fence, she hung her head thinking about Tamara’s offer. It was exactly what she wanted. She’d dreamed of having her own company. She had the skills. She knew how to run a business. She was running the training school, although she only had three employees. She’d run Xavier’s company almost single-handedly, organizing some of his financial processes and streamlining the crews that worked at various sites, in addition to designing and working out stunts.

  Piper didn’t know how long she stood there contemplating the phone call. She really wanted to go into business with her friend. Tamara had offered her the ability to do it, but Piper understood, probably better than her colleague, that if her name was associated with a stunt company, it was likely to fail. Who would trust her? A man had nearly died and the finger was pointed at her as the culprit. She couldn’t allow Tamara to start a business that had her name attached to it. It would be doomed before it began.

  * * *

  “LOSE YOUR BEST FRIEND?”

  Piper jerked around as she heard Cal’s voice. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t detected either his truck or his footsteps. His presence surprised her. She was used to seeing him, but her heart raced every time he appeared. Today her heart hammered in her chest. Immediately, she thought of Meghan’s teasing comment. No good-night kiss.

  “No,” she said automatically. “I was just thinking about all the things I have to do.” That sounded hollow. She couldn’t think why so many people said it when it was an obvious lie. She was sure Cal knew that, too.

  “Then I feel guilty for pulling you away from your plans.”

  “I’ll figure it all out,” she said. “Ready for your lesson?”

  He nodded.

  Piper was relieved. Thoughts of Tamara and her offer flew out of her mind. The man before her left no room for thoughts of anything or anyone else.

  “Come with me,” she said. They started to head toward the barn with the gymnastics equipment. “I want to test your upper body strength.”

  “That sounds interesting,” he said, reading something more into the statement than was intended. It hit the mark, forcing heat to flood Piper’s face.

  She pulled herself together as they moved from the bright outdoors to the subdued lighting of the gym.

  “How do we do this?” Cal asked. “While I learned to ride a horse, I’ve never really done gymnastics. I was more a basketball and soccer kind of guy.”

  “Basketball is good conditioning. Soccer is all lower body.” She began to explain what she wanted him to do. “We start with the lower parallel bar.” Putting her hand on it, she indicated the one he would begin with. “I want to know if you can support your body weight with your arms.”

  “Didn’t I already do that the other night, or are you thinking I was supporting myself on a different part of my anatomy?”

  She flashed a look at him. Even without a smile on his face, he was teasing her.

  “I don’t want a repeat of that battle,” she said, remembering their skirmish on the ground in front of her house.

  He shrugged. Piper wondered if he thought she was challenging him. She wasn’t. She was too busy trying to keep her mind on the lesson. He didn’t make it easy. He was close to her and he made her nervous. She didn’t know why. Not even Xavier had made her feel like this when she was initially attracted to him.

  “This is the only one we’ll be using. I’ll show you what I want you to do.” She grabbed the bar with both hands, bent her knees and slowly jumped up until her thighs were on the bar. Spreading her hands away from her body, she was completely balanced on the bar.

  “That doesn’t look like it’ll help my upper body strength,” Cal said. “Not that I haven’t done this before.”

  Another past scene skated through her mind. Cal had tested the parallel bars after they reassembled them on the day they met. How had she forgotten that? Still, this exercise was necessary.

  “It’s to do with balance,” she said. “You need to be able to balance yourself. On the horse, it will be a lot harder.”

  “I can attest to that,” he joked.

  Piper ignored him. At least she tried. Placing her hands back on the bar, she swung herself away from it and raised her legs several inches off the floor using the bar to hold herself up.

  Jumping down, she moved aside but stayed close enough to spot him. Cal did as she had done. When it came to pushing himself away, he had trouble.

  “Hollow your body,” she said. “And push your shoulders up and down.” She gestured toward his stomach. When he didn’t do it, she reached out and touched him, gently pushing in. Cal dropped to the floor.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “I’m ticklish.”

  Piper knew that wasn’t true. She felt the jolt of awareness that passed between them. She’d coached enough people to know when her touch produced laughter. When she put her hand on Cal, it was something else entirely. She knew because every nerve ending she had was tingling. She would not touch him again. His body was warm and she didn’t want her hands to convey her feelings.

  “Try it again,” she said.

  He did it nearly perfectly. “Keep your legs straight,” she said.

  After several repetitions, he got it. “Great. You can get down now.”

  He jumped to the ground.

  “What’s the verdict?”

  “You passed,” she said. She knew the answer before she even checked. Piper had felt the strength of his core, and viewing the hard muscles of his arms, she had no doubt that he had enough strength for her planned lesson.

  Leaving the gym, they walked back to the waiting horses. Piper demonstrated and Cal repeated her routine while she held on to a long tether. She had him get to his knees on the horse and extend one leg behind him as he’d done at the last lesson. He fell several times, but to his credit, he climbed back on and tried it again and again until he got it. Then he insisted on doing it several more times to make sure he had it. She liked that about him. The tumble to the ground didn’t put him off, nor did he complain about hitting the hard earth. Since starting lessons, he had to be tender in more than one spot.

  Meghan’s question about a kiss came back to her and wouldn’t leave. How long could she hold these feelings inside?

  The hour passed quickly but stressfully. “That’s it for today,” Piper said, feeling relieved that she had finished without a personal mishap. Cal was doing very well, picking up the technique faster than anyone else she’d ever trained.

  And that was the problem. At least it was one problem. She wanted to teach him more, encourage him to use his talent, but she couldn’t. This was a hobby for him. He wasn’t planning to make a career of it. And she knew he came for lessons because he was attracted to her. Piper had to admit that despite her best efforts, Cal had found a way around her normal defenses. Thank goodness he didn’t know it. Yet Meghan had guessed.

  She should have refused to give him lessons. She could have said she only trained young kids, that she wasn’t qualified to teach adults, that trick riding wasn’t something she wanted to do. There were many excuses she could have come up with.

  But she hadn’t.

  * * *

  CAL RUBBED THE seat of his pants as they walked away from the horses. It had been a good workout and he was thankful that his first lesson was based on how to fall, since he’d had many spills. During his lessons as a boy, he rarely fell. When he worked on engineering sites, he was accomplished enough for travel by horse.

  Piper’s lessons were something else. With only two under his belt, he knew it was a different world, yet he was excited about it. And about being around her. She was clever, sure of herself and independent. That last could be a flaw. She was so independent that she didn’t let anyone in, and if someone tried to get close, she pushed them away. She was so good at it that it had become second nature.

  Cal had seen his brother go through the same phase after his accident. It was only his future wife, Lauren, who had the love, patience and fortitude to see past his anger and encourage him as he worked out his issues.