He clasped his hand over hers, the last bite of chocolate hanging between them.

“Take it,” she urged.

Her voice was too sexy to ignore. He grabbed her hand and drew it to his mouth. Cade enveloped the chocolate with his mouth and swallowed it down. The motion was both carnivorous and sexual.

Abby’s brown eyes widened in surprise.

“What did you expect?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Something more…”

“Polite?” he asked.

Her eyes darkened. “Maybe. If so, I’m glad I was wrong.”

His gut tightened. “You need to be careful. You’re asking for trouble.”

“Just from you,” she said.

His heart hammered against his rib cage. “This is a bad idea.”

“There are worse ideas,” she countered.

He felt himself begin to sweat. How could Laila’s little sister affect him this way? It wasn’t possible.

Dear Reader,

Have you ever felt invisible? Like you could jump up and down and scream and the person you’re trying to reach still wouldn’t see you? I have, and it’s a terrible feeling. It could almost make you feel like you need to do something desperate to get that person’s attention. That’s part of what’s happening to my heroine, Abby Cates. She has wanted to get the attention of the man of her dreams for what feels like forever. Now it looks as if she may finally get her chance.

In A Maverick for Christmas, we sled into the holiday season in Thunder Canyon with another couple ripe for romance. When Abby, “the invisible woman,” does everything in her power to turn Cade Pritchett’s head, he doesn’t know what hit him, but he sure does like it. Can a lifelong crush really lead to true love?

Curl up and enjoy the ride! All the Thunder Canyon Mavericks and I are wishing you the warmest, most loving and joyous holiday season ever!

xo,

Leanne Banks

A Maverick for Christmas
Leanne Banks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realizes how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden on an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her website, www.leannebanks.com

This book is dedicated to Susan Litman.

You know why.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Prologue

Abby Cates remembered the moment she fell for Cade Pritchett. She had been nine years old at the time, and he’d been giving swimming lessons at Silver Stallion Lake. At seventeen, Cade had been tall, strong and blond. He was nice to all the kids, but demanded they learn their strokes. Abby was pretty sure he didn’t remember scooping her out of some too-deep water when she’d choked and panicked. In her little-girl mind, Cade was a god.

Despite her best efforts, Abby had never found any man who could top Cade in her mind, not even now that she was twenty-two. And that was a terrible shame, especially since he’d never noticed her and, on top of that, wedding fever was running through Thunder Canyon like a bad flu.

Now that her older sister Laila was engaged to Jackson Traub, the discussions of weddings were nonstop. Her mother was usually so eager for Christmas that she began decorating plans in early November, but this year she was clearly distracted. If her mother didn’t take a little break from wedding talk, then Abby was going to explode through the roof of her family’s home. She tried not to listen to her mother’s phone conversation as she finished cleaning up the kitchen after dinner.

“A double wedding for Marlon and Matt,” her mother cooed. “Love is definitely in the air. And soon enough, there will be babies,” she continued, her tone giddy with delight. Abby glowered. Love is in the air. Yeah, for everyone except her. Her mother began to dig for more details on the double wedding of her cousins, and Abby turned the water on high as she washed the last pot. She wished she could wash out her brain as easily as she could clean the dishes.

Why in the world had she fallen for a man who couldn’t seem to even notice her? Talk about unrequited love. Then it had gone from bad to worse when he’d dated her beautiful oldest sister, Laila, the town beauty queen. Then it went from worse to tragic when he’d proposed to Laila. At least her sister had turned him down, but she’d hated the idea that Cade would suffer from Laila’s rejection.

The past couple of years it had been so hard to see Cade with Laila. Abby had felt as if she’d walked around with a permanent knot in her stomach. In love with her sister’s on-again, off-again boyfriend? It was like a bad soap opera. Although she loved Laila, Abby had been torn between guilt and resentment. She’d successfully kept it hidden, but she didn’t know how much longer she could manage it, especially since it felt as if everyone around her was finding love and getting married. And as far as Cade Pritchett was concerned, she might as well be invisible.

Irritated with her bad mood, she muttered to herself, “Suck it up. Wedding fever won’t last forever, and Christmas is right around the corner.”

One second later, the door opened and her sister Laila waltzed in wearing a smile and flashing a cover of a bridal magazine. “I guess I need to start planning for the big day.”

Abby felt something inside her rip. The beginning, she feared, of turning into a rocket and shooting through the roof. If she didn’t get out of here. “Gotta go,” she said, tossing the towel she held on the counter. “I’ll be back later.”

Laila shot her a bemused look. “Where are you going?”

“I need to do some research for a paper,” Abby manufactured, although it was partly true.

“Can’t you do it online?” Laila asked.

“Nope. Tell Mom when she gets off the phone,” Abby said and grabbed her coat. She jammed her hands through the sleeves and raced outside. Full of so many different emotions, she walked blindly away from the house. She skipped getting into her orange Volkswagen Beetle, hoping the cold air would freeze her feelings.

She was torn between swearing a blue streak and crying. She hated to cry, so she began to swear under her breath. Walking toward town, Abby whispered every bad word she could call to mind. At a younger age, she would have gotten her mouth washed out with soap, but there was no one to tattle on her unless she counted the bare November trees and whistling wind. Unfortunately she used up her repertoire very quickly, and despite her best efforts, her eyes filled with tears.

Chapter One

It had been a long day and it was colder than a well-digger’s backside. Cade had been working like a dog and wanted a little reward. He wouldn’t be getting it from a woman tonight, so Cade Pritchett looked inside the café, trying to decide whether or not to indulge in a slice of cherry pie.

Cade looked away. Since that insane moment he’d proposed to Thunder Canyon’s beauty queen, the woman he’d dated casually the past few years, he’d become all too aware of his burning need for a family of his own. It didn’t make sense because Cade wasn’t interested in falling in love. He’d done that once and lost the woman to an accident. He wasn’t interested in risking his heart, but he wanted more than what he had now. A partnership in his father’s business, his own spread just outside of town and his hobby rebuilding motorcycles. Oh, and his hound dog, Stella. He should have listed her first.

From his side, he heard a sniffling sound. Curious, he glanced over and saw Abby Cates wiping her nose as she leaned against the café window. His stomach clenched. Abby, little sister of the woman he’d asked to marry him during the Frontier Days celebration. That had been a monumental mistake.

He heard Abby sniff again and Cade felt a surge of concern. He should check on the girl. The poor thing looked upset. He moved toward her.

“Hey, what’s up? Or down?”

Abby glanced up in shock, her wide eyes blinking in surprise. “Hi,” she said and gave another sniff and surreptitious wipe of her nose with her tissue. “What are you doing here?”

“Thinking about getting a piece of pie,” he said. “Long day.”

She nodded and blinked away her tears. “This is the beginning of one of your busy seasons, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, how’d you remember?” he asked.

“Osmosis,” she said. “I guess I eventually noticed during the last few years when you didn’t hang around the house as much.”

“Yeah,” he said. “So, what’s with the sniffles? I don’t think it’s allergies or a cold.”

She shrugged and lowered her gaze, her eyelids hiding her emotions from him. “I don’t know. Lots of changes going on at my house. I guess I’m going to miss Laila now that she’s getting married,” she said, then froze and met his gaze. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say—”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “No problem. My pride was hurt more than anything else. Laila and I were never crazy in love. I shouldn’t have been such a darned fool by proposing to her,” he said.

“You weren’t the fool. Laila was. She should have never let you get away,” she said.

Cade laughed and shook his head. It felt nicer than he’d like to admit for Abby to rush to his defense, but he knew more than most that romance and emotion could be fickle and elusive. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sheepskin jacket. “You shouldn’t be out here in the cold,” he said. “Let me buy you a cup of hot chocolate.”

She met his gaze for a long moment, and he saw a flurry of emotions he couldn’t quite name except one. Defiance.

She licked her lips. “I’d like something a little stronger than hot chocolate.”

Surprise punched through him. “Something stronger,” he said. “You’re a little young for that, aren’t you?”

She gave a husky chuckle. “Are you suffering from a little dementia due to your advanced years? I’m twenty-two.”

“Whoa,” he said. “When did I miss that?”

“I guess you weren’t looking,” she said wryly. Her chocolate-brown eyes flashed with humor, and his gaze slid over her silky, long brown hair.

“I guess not,” he said. “So you want to go to the Hitching Post?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug, and they walked down the street to the town’s most popular bar and hangout. It was crowded when they walked inside, so he hooked his hand under her elbow and guided her to the far end of the bar.

“Hey, Abby,” a young man said from halfway across the room.

She glanced up and shot the guy a smile.

“Hi, Abby,” a young woman called.

“Hey, Corinne,” she said.

“You seem pretty popular here,” Cade said, finding a space next to the bar. “How often do you come?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I know those people from my classes at college. I’m usually too busy to spend much time here. They’re probably surprised to see me here.”

He nodded. “What do you want to drink?”

“A beer’s okay,” she said with a shrug.

He noticed her lack of enthusiasm. “What kind?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” she said.

He felt a twinge of amusement. “You really don’t like beer.”

“I’m working on it,” she said. “At least once a year.”

He laughed out loud. “I’ll get you one of those pink girly drinks. Cosmo,” he said to the bartender. “And a beer for me. Whatever you have on draft.”

Moments later, she sipped her pink martini and he drank his beer. “It’s loud in here,” he said.

She stirred her drink with the tiny straw. “Yeah, I guess that might bother you older folks,” she said with a naughty smile.

He shook his head. Her teasing gave him a kick. “Yeah, I’m thirty. Don’t rub it in. What have you been doing lately?”

“School. College,” she corrected. “I’m also working at the youth center. And as you know, my family can get a little demanding. I have a part-time job teaching skiing lessons at the resort when I can fit it in. What about you? How’s that new motorcycle coming?”

He was surprised she’d remembered. “Close to perfection, but I’m still tinkering with it.”

“You wouldn’t know perfection if it slapped you in the face,” she teased.

Cade liked the way her long eyelashes dipped over her eyes flirtatiously. Someday, Abby could be trouble, he thought. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean you have that perfection complex. Nothing you do is ever good enough. Not with your woodworking. Not with your motorcycle.”

She nailed him in one fell swoop, taking him off guard. “How’d you know that?”

“I’ve known you for years.” She took the last sip of her cosmo martini. “How could I not know that?”

For one sliver of a second, she looked at him as if he was a dork then shrugged. “You want another one?” he asked.

She shook her head and smiled. “No. I’m a lightweight. Already feel this one. I’ll take some water.”

Cade ordered water for her and continued talking with Laila’s little sister with whom he’d played board games and computer games when he’d been waiting for Laila. He was distracted by her mouth. Especially when she licked her lips after taking a sip of her water. Her lips were plump, shiny and sexy. He shouldn’t notice, but he sure did.

“So you’re busy at work,” she said and took another long sip of water. “Bet your father’s driving you crazy.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “No need to repeat that.”

She laughed. “I won’t. That could be tricky working with your dad. I mean, I love my own dad, but I can’t control him.”

“That’s for sure,” he said, thinking of his own father.

She clicked her half-empty water glass against his beer and dipped her head. “We agree. Cheers.”

“So, what are you majoring in?” he asked.

“Psychology. I finish next spring, but I may need to get an advanced degree. I like working with the teens.”

“I can see where you would be good at that,” he said, thinking that although Abby appeared very young, she was pretty mature for her age.

“I don’t know what I’ll do after I graduate. I haven’t decided if I’ll leave Thunder Canyon or not,” she said.

Her statement gave him a start. “You would leave town?”

“I may have to if I want to get an advanced degree. Plus, with everything going on with my family, it may be time for me to strike out on my own by then.”

He nodded. “If you wanted to stay, you could get an advanced degree online. And just because you move out of your parents’ house doesn’t mean you have to move out of town.”

She smiled. “You almost sound like you’d like me stay. That can’t be true. You barely notice me.”

“You’re a quality girl—” He broke off. “Woman,” he corrected himself. “I hate to see Thunder Canyon lose a good woman like you.”

“Ah, so it’s your civic duty to encourage me to stay here,” she said.

He felt a twist of discomfort. “Lots of people would miss you.”

“Well, I haven’t made any decisions yet. I need to finish my classes first. I’m just glad the end is in sight. What do you think about the rivalry between LipSmackin’ Ribs and DJ’s Rib Shack?”

Cade would have had to have been deaf and blind not to know about the controversy between Thunder Canyon’s longtime favorite barbecue restaurant DJ’s Rib Shack and the the new rib place, which featured waitresses dressed in tight T-shirts. “I’m a DJ’s man all the way. I don’t like it that the Hitching Post started featuring LipSmackin’ Ribs on the menu and I refuse to order them. I’ll buy drinks here, but no ribs.”

“So you’ve never even visited LipSmackin’ Ribs?”

“I went a few times just to see what the fuss was about,” he said.

“You mean the skimpy uniforms the waitresses wear,” she said.

He shook his head and rubbed his jaw. “I pity your future boyfriend. He won’t be able to pull anything over on you.”

“Future? How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend right now?” she asked. “I don’t, but I certainly could. There are even some men who think I’m attractive, some who ask me to go out with them.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. And you be careful about those guys. You make sure they have the right intentions.”

She shot him a playfully sly look so seductive he almost dropped his beer. “What would you say are the right intentions?” she asked.

His tongue stuck in the back of his throat for a few seconds. “I mean just that—you need to make sure they have the right intentions. You shouldn’t let anyone take advantage of you.”

“Unless that’s what I want him to do, right?”

He choked on his beer. Where had this vixen come from? Although she’d been a spirited competitor whenever she’d played games and been far more knowledgeable about sports than most females he knew, Cade had always seen her as Laila’s sweet little sister. “I think it’s time for you to go home. I’m starting to hear things come out of your mouth that aren’t possible.” He waved for the bartender to bring the bill.

“Oh, don’t tell me I scared big, strong Cade Pritchett,” she teased as he finished his beer and tossed some bills on the counter.

“There’s more than one way to scare a man. Let’s go,” he said and ushered her through the bar to the door.

Abby felt higher than a kite. She’d been waiting forever for the time when it was just her and Cade. She’d had a secret crush on Cade since even before her sister had dated him, and watching Laila’s wishy-washy attitude toward Cade had nearly put her over the edge on more than one occasion during the past few years.

But now, she thought, her heart beating so fast she could hardly breathe, she had Cade all to herself, if only for a few more moments. “So is most of your work right now for people who want to get special Christmas gifts?”

“A good bit of it,” he said. “But there’s a potential for a big order. We’ll find out soon.” He stopped abruptly. “Is that old man Henson trying to change a tire on his truck?” he asked, pointing down the street.

Abby tore her gaze from Cade’s and felt a twist of sympathy mixed with alarm. “I think it is. Isn’t he almost eighty-five? He shouldn’t be changing a tire during daylight let alone at this time of night,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said and quickened his pace. “Mr. Henson,” he called. “Let me give you a hand with that.”

Abby joined Cade as they reached the elderly man, who’d already jacked up the truck. “I’m fine,” he said, glancing up at them, his craggy face wrinkled in a wince of pain. “It’s these dang rusted bolts.”

“Let me take a shot at them. Abby, maybe Mr. Henson might like a cup of that hot chocolate I was talking about earlier.”

“I don’t need any hot chocolate,” Henson said. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not,” Abby said. “Would you keep me company while I drink some to warm me up?”

Henson opened his mouth to protest then sighed as he adjusted his hat. “Well, okay. But make it quick. I gotta deliver some wood in the morning.”

Abby shot a quick look at Cade and shook her head. Mr. Henson was legendary for his work ethic. She admired him for it, but she also knew he’d gotten into a few situations where he’d had to be rescued. Flashing Henson a smile, she hooked her arm through his and walked to the café.

She made chitchat with the man while they sat in a booth and waited for their hot chocolate. She noticed Mr. Henson kept glancing out the window. “Your truck will be fine. It’s in good hands with Cade.”

“Oh, I know that,” Mr. Henson said. “Cade’s a fine young man. You’ll do well with him.”

She dropped her jaw at his suggestion then gave a wry laugh. “I think so, too, but I don’t believe he sees me that way, if you know what I mean,” she said and took a sip of the hot drink.

He wrinkled his already deeply furrowed forehead and wiggled his shaggy gray eyebrows. “What do you mean? You’re a pretty girl. I’m sure you turn quite a few heads.”

“Thank you very much,” she said. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“It’s true. I’ve never been known for a silver tongue. My Geraldine, rest her soul, would tell you the same. Although she was the prettiest woman to ever walk the streets of Thunder Canyon. I still miss her.”

Abby slid her hand over Mr. Henson’s. “I’m so sorry. How long were you married?”

“Fifty-three years,” he said. “That’s why I keep working. If I sit at home, I’ll just pine. Better to be moving around, doing something.”

“But you could afford to take a break every now and then. We don’t want anything happening to you,” she said and made a mental note to stop in and visit Mr. Henson. His loneliness tugged at her heart.

He shrugged. “I’ll go when the good Lord says I’m ready, and not a minute before.” He glanced outside the window. “Looks like Cade’s finished changing my tire. We should go now. Let me pay the bill. And don’t you argue with me,” he said when she’d barely let out a sound. “I don’t get to share some hot chocolate with a girl as pretty as you very often these days.”

“And you said you didn’t have a silver tongue,” she said. “Thank you.”

The two left the café and caught up with Cade, who appeared to be looking for a place to wipe some of the grease off his hands. Abby offered the paper napkin she’d wrapped around her cup of hot chocolate.

He made do with it. “Thanks,” he said then glanced at the truck again. “It’s no wonder you had trouble with those bolts. I had to bang on them to get them loose. You’ll get that tire repaired soon, won’t you?” he asked.

“I’ll get to it. I’ll get to it,” Henson said in a testy voice as he inspected the job Cade had done changing his tire. “Thank you,” he said with a nod. “What do I owe you?”

Cade shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.

“Aw, come on. I gotta give you something for your trouble,” Henson said.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what you can give me,” Cade said. “You can stay out of trouble.”

Henson glared at Cade for a moment then laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. Thank you again. And, uh—” He glanced at Abby. “Take care of that pretty girl. You shouldn’t let a good one like her get away.”

Abby shot a quick look at Cade’s disconcerted expression. Her face flamed with heat and she quickly focused her attention on her hot chocolate—blowing on it, sipping. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, Mr. Henson. Good night, now,” she said.

She stood beside Cade as the old man got into the car and drove away.

“I’ll give you a ride home. My car’s just down the street. That Henson is a character, isn’t he?” Cade muttered, leading her to his vehicle.

“I have to agree. So are you,” she said, wishing the evening wouldn’t end.

He opened the car door and glanced at her. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” she said. “You’re always trying to stay in the background, but here you go again saving the day.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as he started the car.

“I mean you’re always rescuing somebody. It’s just what you do. White Knight syndrome?”

He looked at her for a long moment with an expression on his face that made her breath stop in her chest. He looked at her as if he were seeing her as more than Laila’s little sister. “I didn’t think anyone noticed,” he finally said.

“Of course I notice,” she managed in a voice that sounded breathless to her own ears.

He glanced away and put the car in gear, driving toward her home. Abby was torn between relief and disappointment. She had wanted that sliver of a moment to continue, yet she could breathe a little better now.

“Is that an official diagnosis? White Knight syndrome?” he asked, his mouth lifting in a half grin of amusement.

“No. I don’t think you’re clinically maladjusted. You’re just a good man,” she said, although good was putting it lightly. Cade was much more than a good man.

He glanced at her and chuckled. “Thank you. I feel better.”

“That will be five dollars,” she said and laughed at his sideways glance at her. “Just kidding. I’m not licensed to practice.”

They approached her street and her stomach knotted. She tried to think of a way to continue this special time. She didn’t want it to end. “I always thought that was strange. A doctor practices medicine. An attorney practices law. What if they have a lousy day practicing?”

Cade pulled the car to a slow stop and shifted into Park. “Good point. I try to avoid both if possible.”

Abby drank in the sight of him, meeting his watchful blue gaze and noting the vapor of his breath from his mouth. His strong chin matched his character and determination and his broad shoulders had always made her think he could carry anything life threw at him. He’d suffered some deep losses. She knew that beneath that sheepskin jacket, his muscles were well developed from the times he’d played touch football with her extended family in the backyard.

She knew a lot about him, but she wanted to know so much more. She wanted to slide underneath that jacket and feel him against her. Maybe it was time to take a chance. A crazy chance. Her heart raced so fast she felt lightheaded.

“I’ve always liked your eyes,” she said in a low voice.

His gaze widened in surprise. “What?”

“I’ve always liked your eyes,” she repeated. “They say so much about you. You have this combination of strength and compassion and the first place you see it is in your eyes.” She bit her lip then leaned closer to him. “Of course, the rest of you isn’t bad, either.”

“It’s not?” he echoed. She saw a lot of curiosity and flickers of sensuality in his gaze.

“Not bad at all,” she said, sliding her hand up the front of his jacket. Taking her courage in her hand, she tugged at his jacket to bring his head closer to hers. Then she pressed her mouth against his, relishing the sensation of his closeness and his lips meshed with hers. He rubbed his mouth against hers and she suddenly felt his hand at her back, drawing her breasts against his chest.

His response sent a flash of electricity throughout her and she opened her lips to deepen the kiss. He took advantage, sliding his tongue inside her. Craving more, she gave what she knew he was asking. Despite the cold temperature, she felt herself grow warmer with every passing second of his caress. Warm enough to strip off her coat and…

Cade suddenly pulled his mouth from hers and stared at her in shock. “What the—” He shook his head and swore, taking a giant step away from her. “I’m sorry.” He swore again. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“But you didn’t start it,” she said, her heart sinking at his response.

He held up his hands. “No, really. I shouldn’t—” He cleared his throat. “You go on home, now. I’ll watch from here.”

“But, Cade—”

“Go inside, Abby,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Still tempted to argue, Abby had pushed her courage as far as it would go tonight. She swung away from him, hopped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Striding home, she was caught between euphoria and despair. He had kissed her back and he sure seemed to like it. For those few seconds, he had treated her like a woman he desired. This time she hadn’t imagined the way he tasted, the way his lips felt against hers, his hand at her back, urging her closer. This time, it had been real.

But then the man had apologized for kissing her. The knowledge made her want to scream in frustration. Was she back where she’d started? Was she back to being Laila’s little sister?

Chapter Two

Cade would have mainlined his third cup of coffee after lunch if it had been possible. He hadn’t slept well last night and had felt off all day. He stripped another screw for the designer desk he was making for an entertainment hotshot in L.A., and swore under his breath.

His father and partner, Hank, was talking, but Cade was trying to focus on the desk instead of the way Laila’s sister had kissed him last night. And worse yet, he thought, closing his eyes in deep regret, the way he’d kissed her back.

Cade tried to shake off the thoughts and images that had been tormenting him since he’d apologized and burned rubber back to his house. Thoughts about her had haunted him. Her wide brown eyes, her silky, long brown hair and her ruby lips swollen from the friction of his mouth against hers. His own lips burned with the memory, and he rubbed the back of his hand against them, trying to rub away the visual and the guilt. What the hell had he been thinking?

Impatience rushed through him and he grabbed a file. His mind torn in different directions, he stabbed his other hand. Pain seared through him, blood gushed from his hand. Cade swore loudly and stood.

“What are you doing, son?” his father demanded, striding toward him to take a look at Cade’s hand.

“It’s fine,” Cade said. “I’ll bandage it and it will be fine.”

“You better be up-to-date with your tetanus shot,” Hank said.

“I am,” Cade said. “I’m not that stupid.”

“Based on your performance this morning…” his father began.

“Lay off, Dad,” Cade said, looking down at the man who had taught him so much about carpentry and life, the man who’d never recovered from the death of his wife several years ago. None of them had really recovered from the death of Cade’s mother. She’d balanced her husband’s stern taskmaster nature with softness and smiles.

“Son, I don’t want to have to say this, but you need to snap out of your funk. Laila is getting married to someone else, and you’re just going to have to get used to it,” Hank said bluntly.

Shock slapped through Cade as he stared at his father. He opened his mouth to say he hadn’t been thinking about Laila then closed it. He sure as hell didn’t want to tell his father he’d been thinking about Laila’s little sister Abby.

“You bandage up that hand and go check in on the community center. They’ve requested a few things for their Thanksgiving program.”

Cade shook his head. “We don’t have time for me to go to the community center now. We have too much work.”

Hank shook his head. “Get some air, do something different. You’ll come back better than ever.”

“You know that since we’re equal partners, you can’t be giving orders,” Cade said.

Hank sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, consider it a request from your elderly father.”

Cade felt a twitch of amusement. His father was still a hard driver, especially in the shop. “Elderly my—”

“Get on out of here,” Hank said.

Cade pulled on his jacket and walked out the door, feeling his father’s gaze on him as he left. He didn’t want his father worrying about him. With a few exceptions during his teen years, Cade had made a point of not causing his parents much grief. Once his mother had gotten sick, his younger brothers had acted up, and Cade knew his father had needed to be able to rely on him. Work had gotten them through the rough times, and for Cade, the loss hadn’t stopped with his mother. There’s been Dominique and he’d felt the promise of happiness with her before she’d been taken from him.

Stepping outside the shop, he walked toward the community center a few blocks away. He shook his head, willing the cold air to clear it. He shouldn’t be thinking about Abby. It was wrong in so many ways. Putting his mind on the community center’s Thanksgiving needs should point him in a different direction. He welcomed the change.

Cade walked inside the glass door of the community center and headed toward the gym at the back of the building. He pushed open the door and his breath hitched at the sight before him. The object of his distraction handed a baby to the community center’s children’s director, Mrs. Wrenn, and began to climb a ladder holding a humongous horn of plenty.

“What the hell?” he muttered, walking toward the front of the room.

Abby continued to climb the ladder while she lugged the horn of plenty upward. Cade couldn’t permit her to continue. “Stop,” he said, his voice vibrating against the walls.

Abby toppled at the sound of his voice and whipped her head in his direction. “Cade?”

“Stay right there,” he said, closing the space between him and the ladder. He grabbed each side of the metal ladder. “Okay, you can come down now.”

Abby’s hair swinging over her shoulders, she frowned at him. “Why? I’ve just got a little farther to go.”

“Not while I’m here,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears.

Abby shook her head. “But it won’t take another minute for me to finish—”

“Come down,” he said. “It’s not safe. I’ll handle it.”

She paused long enough to make him uncomfortable. “Abby,” he said.

“Okay, okay, but I was doing fine before you got here,” she said, descending the ladder.

“That’s a matter of opinion,” he muttered under his breath as he watched her bottom sway as she wobbled.

She missed the last step and fell against him. He caught her tight and absently grabbed the horn of plenty, his heart pounding.

“Oops,” she said after the fact.

Some part of him took note of the sensation of her breasts against his chest, her pelvis meshed against his as she slid downward. His brain scrambled, but he fought it.

“I really would have been fine,” she insisted.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. “I’ll handle the rest of this.”

“You’re not being sexist, are you?” she demanded. “Because I really can do this.”

Cade felt his heart rate rise again. “Not sexist,” he said. “Just practical. I’m more athletic than you are.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I played soccer and—”

“I have more upper-body strength,” he said, deciding to end the argument once and for all.

He felt Abby’s admiring gaze over his broad shoulders. “I can’t argue with that,” she said.

He felt an odd thrill that he quickly dismissed. “I’ll go ahead and hang this horn of plenty,” he said. “Do you mind holding the ladder?”

“Not at all,” Abby said cheerfully.

Cade climbed the ladder and hung the horn of plenty. He descended to the floor. “My father told me you need a few things for your Thanksgiving show.”

Mrs. Wrenn jiggled the toddler and Abby extended her arms to the small boy. “Come here, Quentin.”

The toddler fell toward her and Abby laughed, catching him in her arms. “Hiya, sweetie,” she said.

The mocha-colored child beamed and giggled as Abby cradled him, clearly feeling safe with her. Cade saw a flash of Abby, laughing, burgeoning with pregnancy and another baby on her hip. Her brown eyes were sexy with humor and womanly awareness.

Cade shook his head, snapping him out of his crazy visual. “How can I help you, Mrs. Wrenn?”

The elderly woman beamed at him. “Thank you so much for coming. We need a ship hull and a table for the pilgrim and Native American dinner. It doesn’t have to be too special.”

“We can take care of that,” Cade said. “We’ll get a donated table and dress it up.”

“That would be wonderful,” Mrs. Wrenn said.

“And I’ll work out something with a ship’s hull during the next week. How many people do you want on it?”

Mrs. Wrenn winced. “Twenty.”

“Whoa,” he said. “Good to know. We can take care of that.”

Mrs. Wrenn gave a big sigh and clasped her hands together. “Thank you. I knew we could count on you, Cade. We want to give all of the children a chance to feel like stars.”

Cade nodded, catching Abby’s eye and feeling a flash of kinship with her. He was surrounded by people who either were or felt as if they needed to be stars, but he couldn’t be less interested. If he read Abby’s wry gaze correctly, then she felt the same way.

“I can do that,” he said.

“I knew you could,” Mrs. Wrenn said.

He glanced at Abby and the sexy look in her gaze took him off guard. He fastened his gaze on the graying Mrs. Wrenn. “Any particular colors you have in mind?”

The director shrugged. “Harvest colors.”

He nodded. “I’ll take that back to the shop. Anything else you need?”

“Nothing else I can think of,” Mrs. Wrenn said and glanced at Abby. “Is there anything else that comes to mind? Abby has been nice enough to fill in since my volunteer helper Mrs. Jones had to have bunion surgery.”

Abby glanced at the director, then looked at Cade. “Not a thing, but if you get lost, you can contact Mrs. Wrenn or me.”

“I don’t get lost,” Cade said.

“That’s a shame,” Abby said under her breath, then lifted her shoulders. “Then if you need suggestions.”

He shot her a sideways look. “Who does Quentin belong to?” he asked, unable to squelch his curiosity.

Abby’s gaze turned serious. “His mother, Lisa, has passed her G.E.D. and has completed her L.P.N. She wants to get her R.N. She’s just nineteen and one of my ROOTS girls. I told her I would step in as often as possible during her education. She’s halfway through her R.N.”

He felt a shot of admiration. “You’re a good friend.”

“She’s a good mom. It’s the least I can do.”

Cade’s respect for Abby grew. Big brown eyes, long brown hair, she was just Laila’s little sister, but now she seemed like so much more. He glanced at the toddler and couldn’t hold back a smile. “How are you babysitting with your courses?”

“Just call me Superwoman,” she deadpanned. “Kinda like you’re Superman.”

He felt a crazy hitch in his chest and inhaled quickly. “I’m no Superman.”

“Nobody else knows that,” she said and shifted the baby on her hip.

His mind flashed. Body. Baby. Come-hither smile. Heaven help him.

Cade cleared his throat. “I’ll get back to the shop.”

“Thank you for coming, Cade,” Mrs. Wrenn said in her squeaky voice.

“Let us know when you need a break,” Abby offered, her eyes lowered to a sexy half-mast.

Cade felt a rush of arousal race through him. He swore to himself and turned away. “See you ladies later,” he said.

“Anytime,” Abby said, and the sexy invitation sent his blood rushing to his groin. Cade swore again, but he suspected the fresh air might not cure his distraction.

Abby was surviving at home, but barely. Although she was happy her sister Laila had found true love and wanted to marry, it was hard to deal with the constant wedding plans. Plus, her cousins were headed down the aisle, too.

Enough was enough and it felt like pulling teeth to get Cade to look at her as if she was more than a fourth grader. Reality beckoned, however, and Abby was forced to join her family for a dinner with Jackson Traub and his sister, Rose. Jackson had managed what many other men had tried by winning over her sister Laila.

“To Laila and Jackson,” her father toasted, lifting his glass. “May your love be bigger than your wills.”

“Here, here,” Abby’s mother said.

“Yeah,” Abby muttered under her breath and took a big gulp of sparkling wine.

Laila beamed and looked at Jackson. The love between them sizzled. Laila lifted her glass to Jackson and her eyelids lowered in an intimate gaze. “Who would have ever known?”

“Who?” Jackson echoed and clicked her glass against his.

Abby felt a sliver of envy that traveled deeper than her soul. What she wouldn’t give to have Cade look at her that way. Not in this lifetime, she thought.

Thank goodness the Cateses understood their priorities. Food was near the top of the list. Soon enough, a platter of roasted chicken was passed her way, followed by mashed potatoes. After that, green beans and biscuits.

Abby took a small spoonful of each dish as it passed. Her mind was preoccupied with Cade. Her appetite was nearly nonexistent. The good news was that everyone’s attention was focused on Laila and Jackson, so no one would notice the fact that she wasn’t the least bit hungry.

Abby nodded and smiled and pushed her food around her plate then murmured an excuse to get her away from the table. She sought peace in her backyard. It was freezing, but that was no surprise. Abby enjoyed the freezing air that entered her lungs. Despite the fact that it was too cold for words, she was thrilled with the solemn quiet her father’s ranch offered at moments like these.

She meandered past the porch and shoved her hands into her pockets.

Seconds later, she heard voices from the back porch.

“I know it’s crazy, but Laila is my dream come true,” Jackson Traub said. “I never expected it, and she took me by surprise.”

“I’m so glad,” Rose Traub said. “I was surprised, but happy when it happened. I love that you never thought it would happen to you.”

“Thanks,” Jackson said, unable to conceal his amusement.

“Humility is the beginning of wisdom,” Rose said.

Jackson swore. “You’re tough.”

“You taught me. I’m just not sure I’ll ever find my true love. Maybe he doesn’t exist. I feel like I’ve dated every man in Thunder Canyon.”

Abby swallowed a sound of frustration that threatened to bubble from her throat. Rose had been out with a lot of Thunder Canyon men. She’d even gone out with Cade, and that hadn’t set well with Abby, at all.

“You haven’t dated every man. There’s still old man Henson and his friends,” Jackson joked.

Abby resisted the urge to laugh, but Rose didn’t. Her warm chuckle drifted through the cold air. “Thanks for the encouragement. Mr. Henson is eighty-five if he’s a day.”

“Just kidding,” Jackson said. “But the truth is you can find your true love. I did. Don’t give up.”

“I’m not sure I can count on that,” she said.

“Give it a little longer,” Jackson said. “You might be surprised.”

Seconds later, silence fell over Abby as she stood outside the deck in the dark. She wasn’t quite sure what she should take away from the cold night and the conversation she’d overheard.

Abby stared into the horizon, feeling the stars from the sky watching over her. She should leave, she thought, but she felt the stars tracking her. She wanted—no, needed—to feel the stars guiding her to her future. More than anything, she wished a lucky star was shining down on her. A star of love. If not love, then an antidote for love.

Fixing her gaze on the brightest star, she felt a ripple of realization shimmy down her spine. She’s wanted Cade as long as she could remember. She’d pushed herself to flirt with him the other night. Abby felt as if her passion for Cade would never be returned. But she would never be sure if she didn’t put herself out there.

Abby had never been much of a flirt, and she had no idea how to be a seductress, but maybe she needed to give it her best shot now. Maybe she needed to do everything she could to make Cade see her as a woman, a desirable woman who wanted him. At that moment, she made a promise to herself. No more shy little sister, hiding behind Laila. Abby needed to find her inner sexpot.

Abby cringed at the thought. Okay, maybe not sexpot, but seductress had an empowering ring to it…when it didn’t make her snicker.

Two days later, Cade took a break from work at the shop and headed for the new bakery in town, the Mountain Bluebell Bakery. He was feeling deprived lately and figured giving in to his sweet tooth was the least of possible evils. Cherry pie or something better sounded great.

He exhaled and his breath sent out a foggy spritz. Noticing a crowd ahead, he slowed as he approached. A news team was interviewing several different citizens of Thunder Canyon.

“So, do you think a down-home ribs meal is good enough to keep customers happy?” the newscaster asked. “Or do you think tight T-shirts and short shorts are necessary in today’s market?”

“Nothing wrong with short shorts and tight T-shirts,” a man from the crowd yelled.

“But is it necessary?” the newscaster asked.

“Well,” the man said, “I guess not. But it sure doesn’t hurt.”

The crowd laughed.

Suddenly a microphone was put in Cade’s face. “What about you? Do you think a tight T-shirt and short shorts are more important than a home-cooked meal?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “The food and service are great at DJ’s. No need for tight T-shirts.”

The reporter moved past him and Cade automatically searched the crowd. His gaze landed on Abby on the opposite side of the street. He wondered what she thought of all this. She’d seemed a bit skeptical of the skimpy outfits of LipSmackin’ Ribs.

Her gaze met his, and he lifted his hand and gave her the hi sign. She nodded and moved toward him.

Cade noticed the way her long brown hair swung over her shoulders. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and her plump lips shiny and distracting. She had the kind of lips any man would want to kiss.

“Hi,” she said as she approached him. “Can you believe this?”

He nodded at the crazy press. “Not really. Who would have thought a debate over ribs would bring national news to Thunder Canyon?”

“I’m with you,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the crowd behind her. “What are you doing out and about?”

“I’m taking a break and checking out the new bakery down the street. I hear they’ve got some good stuff,” he said.

“Mind if join you?” she asked.

Something told him he should refuse, but he didn’t give in to it. “What about school?”

“I don’t have a class until tonight.”

He frowned. “You take night classes? Why don’t you stick to day?” he asked.

Her lips twitched. “Because not all of my classes are available during the day.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you going to buy me a chocolate tart or not?” she asked.

He blinked. “Yeah, I’ll buy you a tart. Let’s go.”

He led the way to the bakery and they ordered their pastries and coffee.

Moments later, the two of them sat at a table with coffee, a chocolate tart and a slice of cherry pie à la mode. Like many of the shops around town, the bakery featured both Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations. The shop owners in Thunder Canyon weren’t dummies. They would maximize the holiday season to get the most out of it. Cade, however, wasn’t big on Christmas since his mother and Dominique had died years ago.

Abby took a spoonful of chocolate tart into her mouth and closed her eyes in satisfaction. “Now, that is good.”

“Yeah,” Cade said, fighting a surge of arousal as he took a bite of his cherry pie.

“No, really,” she said, lifting a spoon toward Cade. “You should try this.”

Cade glanced into her brown eyes then felt his gaze dip deeper to her cleavage. When had Abby Cates gotten cleavage?

Cade cleared his throat. “I’m game,” he said and opened his mouth.

He felt her slide the spoon and decadent chocolate past his lips onto his tongue. His temperature rose. He swallowed.

“Good,” he managed.

“Of course it is,” she murmured.

Cade met her gaze and felt a wicked stirring throughout him. Something about Abby made him…hard.

She took a sip of coffee and looked at Cade from the rim of her coffee mug. “Coffee’s not really my favorite,” she said. “When it comes to hot drinks, I’d rather have hot chocolate or apple cider.”

“I’ll take coffee,” Cade said.

“But what if you had a choice?” Abby asked. “What would you choose?”

“Coffee with cream and hazelnut,” he said.

“Smells delicious,” Abby said, closing her eyes and smiling.

“But do you want to drink it?” he asked.

“Not so much,” she said. “But I would love to smell it.”

He chuckled and she opened her eyes. “What’s wrong with smelling?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all.”

She got to the end of her tart and there was one bite left. “Bet you want it,” she said, waving the spoon in front of his mouth.

The motion was incredibly seductive, and he found himself craving what she offered. Or maybe he was craving what he wanted. He couldn’t quite tell what Abby was offering, but it was a big no-no. Or was it?

He clasped his hand over hers, the last bite of chocolate hanging between them.

“Take it,” she urged.

Her voice was too sexy to ignore. He grabbed her hand and drew it to his mouth. Cade enveloped the chocolate with his mouth and swallowed it down. The motion was both carnivorous and sexual.

Abby’s brown eyes widened in surprise.

“What did you expect?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Something more…”

“Polite?” he asked.

Her eyes darkened. “Maybe. If so, I’m glad I was wrong.”

His gut tightened. “You need to be careful. You’re asking for trouble.”

“Just from you,” she said.

His heart hammered against his rib cage. “This is a bad idea.”

“There are worse ideas,” she countered.

He felt himself begin to sweat. How could Laila’s little sister affect him this way? It wasn’t possible.

“Go away, little girl,” he said and pulled back.

“I’m not a little girl,” she said.

“You’re too young for me,” he said.

“Says who?” she challenged.

Her defiance caught him by surprise. “Says anyone with any sanity.”

Abby leaned toward him, her eyes full of everything he shouldn’t be thinking. “Haven’t you heard? Sanity’s overrated.”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Abby. But I’m not playing,” he told her with finality.

Chapter Three

Abby’s ego bruised again, she buried herself in her schoolwork and decided to follow up on her intention to visit Mr. Henson. She hadn’t seen his old truck in town during the past few days and decided he might enjoy some leftover chicken and dumplings Abby and her mother had made last night. She also brought along a wreath to add a little holiday cheer to his home, hoping it might lift his spirits. She drove her orange VW toward his place and slowed as she turned onto his dirt driveway. The ground was too frozen to allow the dust to kick up the way it would in the summer, she thought as she pulled in front of the old white farmhouse.

Although Mr. Henson did far more than most folks thought he should, Abby knew he’d finally given up on ranching several years ago and leased his acreage to a local rancher. The old blue truck with peeling paint was parked next to the house, which meant he should be home.

Abby picked up the container of food and got out of her car. She noticed the steps to his porch were still crusty with ice and wondered if he had any salt she could throw on them for him. Knocking on the door, she paused and listened, but there was no response. She knocked again and heard a faint reply.

“Mr. Henson, it’s Abby Cates. Are you okay?”

She heard the sound of slow footsteps and moments later, the door finally opened. Abby was surprised at the sight of him. His face was grizzly with white stubble, his hair hadn’t been combed and his clothes were rumpled.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded in a cranky voice.

“I came to see you and I brought some chicken and dumplings,” she said.

His eyes lit with faint approval. “Oh, well, that’s nice of you. Come on in,” he said and hobbled inside. “Where’s that Pritchett young man? Aren’t you two married?”

“No,” she said. “Cade Pritchett barely knows I’m alive.”

Mr. Henson glanced over his shoulder. “That’s his mistake, I’d say.”

She noticed his grimace as he took a step and her alarm buttons started to go off. “Mr. Henson, you’re limping. What’s wrong?”

He waved his hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. Couple logs fell on my leg when I was delivering wood. You mind if I heat up those dumplings? I bet they’re tasty.”

“They are, but I think you might need to get your ankle checked by a doctor,” she said.

“Doctors usually can’t do anything. Medicine is just one more racket, I say.”

“But—”

“You gonna make me beg for those dumplings?” he asked.

She sighed. “No. Sit down and I’ll heat them up for you,” she said and walked toward the kitchen, then turned as something occurred to her. “If you’ll let me take you into town to see the doctor as soon as you finish eating.”

He scowled at her. “I’m telling you, it’s a waste of time and money.”

“It will make me feel better,” she told him. “I’m worried about you. You’re not yourself.”

His gaze softened. “Well, you’re being silly,” he said gruffly. “I’ll go,” he said, sinking onto the sofa. “But not until I eat those dumplings.”

Thirty minutes later, he’d finished the food and she hung the wreath on his front door.

“What’s that for?” he asked as he shuffled toward her car.

Abby adjusted the red bow. “To give you some Christmas spirit.”

He muttered and got into her car. Abby drove toward town with Mr. Henson fussing the entire way about her car.

“What can you carry with this thing, anyway? Bet my lawn-mower engine is bigger than this. What keeps it running?” he asked. “Sounds like squirrels.”

“The only thing I have to carry is me,” she said. “I don’t haul wood, and this car is surprisingly good in the snow.”

“Can’t believe that,” he said. “You’d get stuck in six inches.”

“It’s light, so it doesn’t sink, plus the gas mileage is terrific. What kind of gas mileage does your truck get?”

He made a mumbling sound that she couldn’t understand. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

“Fifteen miles to the gallon,” he said. “But I could haul most of the houses around here if I wanted.”

She bit her tongue, refusing to point out the obvious, that there was no need to haul houses. Turning off the main drive, she pulled next to the clinic door.

“This is a no-parking zone,” he told her.

“I know,” she said. “I just wanted to get you as close to the door as possible.”

“Hmmph,” he said and opened the car door.

“Just a minute,” she said, cutting the engine and rushing to the passenger side of the car.

“Gotta be a darned pretzel to ride in that car,” he grumbled, but leaned against her as she helped him inside the clinic. Two hours later, she helped Mr. Henson back to the car as he hobbled on crutches.

“Just a sprain,” he said. “I told you it wasn’t anything and I’m not taking that pain medication. It makes me loopy.”

“It’s not a narcotic,” she said as she carefully arranged the crutches in her backseat. “Do you have plastic bags?”

“Yeah, why?” he asked.

“For the ice. The doctor said you need to put ice on your ankle.”

Mr. Henson shrugged.

“Well, if you don’t want to get better and you want to keep feeling rotten, you don’t need to follow his instructions.”

She felt the old man whip his head toward her. “I didn’t say that,” he said.

“The doctor said between the bad bruise and sprain it’s a wonder you didn’t break it. So you need to take care of it. RICE is what he said.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Rest, ice, compression and elevation.”

“You can sit back and watch some TV,” she suggested.

“Hate that reality stuff. Give me a book or a ball game instead.”

“That could be arranged,” she said. “I think my mother said something about fixing some beef stew. Maybe I could bring some over for you if you behave yourself.”

The old man licked his lips. “That sounds good.”

She smiled. “You’ll get better faster if you do what the doctor says.”

“Maybe,” Mr. Henson said and paused. “You know, you would make a good wife. You nag like a good wife would.”

Abby didn’t know whether to feel complimented or insulted.

“Cade Pritchett will be chasing you sooner than you think,” he said.

“Not in this lifetime,” she said.

Mr. Henson lifted a wiry gray eyebrow. “You disrespecting your elder?”

“No,” Abby said reluctantly. “I just can’t fight reality.”

“Girlie,” he said, “I’m eighty-five and I lost Geraldine, my reason for living, eight years ago. I fight reality every day.”

She couldn’t argue with that.

After that, Abby focused on her schoolwork and her work at ROOTS, a community group founded for at-risk teens. Abby led her girls’ teen group on Tuesday nights where they talked about everything from bullies and sex to cosmetics and higher education.

The truth was most of the girls in Abby’s group were pretty cool. They were older than their years and saw Abby as the person they wanted to become. She was humbled by their admiration.

“So, we’ve told you about our guys. When are you gonna tell us about yours?” Keisha, a wise-to-the-world fifteen-year-old, asked.

“I don’t really have a guy,” Abby said.

Silence settled over the group and Abby felt an unexpected spurt of discomfort. “Well, I could have a guy. It’s just that the guy I want doesn’t see me.”

Shannon, a sixteen-year-old with purple hair, frowned. “Is he blind?”

Abby chuckled. “Not in the physical sense. He used to date my sister, so he sees me as the little sister.”

“Oooh,” Katrina, who wore faux black leather from head to toe, said. “Drama. I love it. Does your sis know you like the guy?”

Abby shook her head.

“Does she like this guy?” Keisha asked.

“Oh, no. She’s engaged to someone else.”

“Well, then, you should definitely move in on him,” Katrina said.

Abby laughed uncomfortably. “He sees me as the little sister.”

“You should change that,” Shannon said. “Maybe you could dye your hair pink.”

“I’m not sure that’s me,” Abby said.

“Well, you have to do something different,” Shannon said, her gaze falling over Abby in a combination of pity and disapproval. “You’re, like, everything but sexy.”

“She’s not ugly,” Keisha said.

“I didn’t say that,” Shannon said. “She’s just not sexy.”

“I don’t know,” Katrina said. “She’s got that fresh, natural, girl-next-door look.”

“But not sexy,” Shannon repeated.

Silence followed.

“We could help you,” Shannon said.

Alarm slammed through her. “Help?” she echoed in a voice that sounded high-pitched to her own ears.

“Yeah,” Keisha said, clearly warming to the idea. “We can sex you up. Your guy won’t be able to ignore you then.”

“I’m not sure…” Abby said.

“Hey, it’s like you always tells us,” Shannon said. “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.”

Abby blinked at the sound of her words played back to her. True, but how much of a change was she willing to make?

“If you won’t do pink or blond hair, then we can do big hair,” Shannon said, pursing her profoundly pink lips.

“And cat eyes,” Keisha added.

“And a short, black leather skirt,” Katrina added.

Abby winced inwardly. Black leather skirt?

Shannon nodded. “Kim Kardashian hair. He won’t know what hit him.”

Abby managed to redirect the conversation, but she knew her girls were determined to perform a drastic makeover. She ran into her fellow ROOTS volunteer, Austin Anderson, after the meeting. Austin was twenty-four years old and the two of them were good friends, thanks to their time spent working together.

“How’s it going?” Austin asked and stepped beside her as she walked toward her car in the small parking lot.

“Okay,” she said and knew her voice didn’t hold the commitment it should have.

Austin laughed. “Let’s try this again,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“I think I may have just gotten myself into a situation,” she said as she drew close to her car.

“What kind of situation?” he asked, putting his hand against her car door before she could open it.

Abby sighed and turned to lean against the car. She reluctantly met his gaze. “I did a bad thing,” she said.

“You sold drugs or killed a baby,” he said.

She couldn’t withhold a chuckle. “Neither. I did, however, get drawn into a discussion about my personal life with my ROOTS girls group. Now they want to perform a sexy makeover.”

He laughed. “Hooker time.”

She shot him a sideways glance. “Kinda. But they make an important point. They repeated my words of wisdom back to me. If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Well, if I go through with this makeover, I may need a cohort.”

Austin stared at her for a long moment. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“It probably isn’t, but I need to shake things up.”

Austin gave a heavy sigh. “What do you have in mind?”

“I dress up in makeover mode. You and I hit the town in places where people will talk. My unrequited love wakes up and sees that I am the answer to his heart’s desire.”

Austin winced. “Abby, I’m really not sure this is a great idea.”

“I’m sure it isn’t,” she said. “But I have to do something to shake up Cade’s impression of me.”

“Cade?” Austin echoed. “Cade Pritchett.” He gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Isn’t he the one who proposed to your—”

“Yes,” she said in a flat tone.

Austin took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m in. Let me know when you want to do this.”

“Apparently Saturday night,” she said in a wry tone. “It’s the most visible night.”

Austin nodded and raked his hand through his hair. “All right. Text me with the time.” Austin brushed his finger over her nose sympathetically. “You’re a great girl. If he doesn’t realize it, he’s an idiot.”

“So far, he’s an idiot,” she whispered, her heart hurting.

The following Saturday, the ROOTS teens performed their magic on Abby. As she stared into the mirror, she wasn’t sure if it was magic or something more gruesome.

“Are you sure…” she began as she looked at her dark eye makeup.

“It’s perfect,” Keisha said.

“You are so hot,” Katrina said. “You’re going to knock every guy off his feet.”

Abby was not at all sure. She squinted her eyes at her teased hair, trying to see a remnant of her usual self.

“Ready to go?” Austin asked from the back of the room.

Abby took a deep breath and turned to look at him.

“Oh. Wow,” he said.

Abby felt a sudden spurt of panic. “What does ‘Oh. Wow’ mean?”

Austin strolled toward her. “You look hot. You’ll turn heads. Look out, Thunder Canyon.”

Abby rose and walked toward him. “You’re lying like a dog, aren’t you?”

“Not at all,” he said. “You’re going to turn heads like nobody’s business tonight. Are you ready?”

She met his gaze and quieted her crazy heartbeat. “Not really,” she said. “But that first jump in cold water is the hardest. It may as well be now.”

Abby and Austin visited the hottest bars and made sure she was seen by the maximum number of people. Their last stop was an old bar on Main Street. Surprisingly enough, Cade was at this bar watching a ball game. He didn’t even notice her as she sashayed inside with Austin.

Austin, however, noticed Cade. He ordered Abby another soda water, her fifth of the evening. She countered with a martini.

Austin raised his eyes. “Lemon drop?” he asked. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”

Abby propped on a bar stool and tried to look flirty as she sipped her lemon-drop martini.

It was a little bitter, so she switched off to ice water. She jiggled her leg from the bar stool and wondered if Cade would ever tear his gaze from the screen.

Suddenly, Austin gave a loud laugh that startled her and vibrated throughout the bar. He leaned toward her and nuzzled her.

Abby blinked in shock. Holy buckets.

“Play along,” he said in a low voice.

Oh, yeah, she thought and nuzzled him back and giggled. That was what she was supposed to do. Right?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cade looking at Austin and her. He didn’t look happy. She forced a light laugh.

“He’s looking, isn’t he?” Austin said as he lifted his fingers to her cheek.

“Yes,” she said in a low voice.

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked.

Abby felt torn. “I guess.”

Austin shook his head. “Better make up your mind. He’s right behind you,” he muttered. “Cade,” he said. “Old man, how ya doing? I see a friend on the other side of the room. I’ll be back in a minute—darlin’,” he added to Abby.

Abby turned to look at Cade. His face looked like a thundercloud. “Hi,” she said. “How’s the game?”

He shrugged. “It’s California against Clemson.”

She smiled. “Not close enough to care.”

“I guess. What the hell have you done to your hair?”

Abby frowned. “Dressed it up. Dressed me up,” she said.

“You don’t need to dress up,” he said. “You’re asking for trouble dressed like that.”

Abby frowned at him, feeling a double spurt of frustration and anger. “Some people might say I looked pretty.”

“Some people would say anything to get you into bed,” Cade said.

Offended, Abby narrowed her eyes at him. “You just need to butt out of my date. I’m having a good time. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Austin appeared from behind Cade and lifted his eyebrows. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”

Abby frowned in Cade’s direction. “Sounds good to me,” she said and rose from her bar stool. It took every bit of her concentration not to look at Cade. “G’night,” she said, without meeting his gaze, and hooked her arm with Austin’s as she strutted out of the bar.

As she and Austin stepped into the cold night, she sucked in a clean breath of air. “I’m not sure that worked.”

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