Joss knew what was coming. He was going to kiss her.

And oh, at that moment, she wanted him to kiss her.

Wanted him to guide her back onto the sofa cushions, to press his big, muscled body so tightly against her, to hold her so close and kiss her so long, and so deep and so thoroughly that she would forget…

Everything.

The mess that was her life. All the ways her plans and her world had gone haywire. All the things she somehow had to fix, to make right, though she really had no idea how to do that.

She wanted to tear off all her clothes and all of his, too. She wanted to be naked with him, skin-to-skin. Naked with her new best friend—who happened to be a man she’d only met the day before.

She wanted forgetfulness. And she wanted it in Jace’s big arms.

Dear Reader,

Former player Jason “Jace’’ Traub isn’t sure what he wants out of life anymore. He’s out of the family business and determined to leave his lifelong home of Midland, Texas, and start anew somewhere else. In the meantime, he’s spending a week or two at the annual Traub family reunion in Thunder Canyon, Montana.

Runaway bride Joss Bennings is enjoying her un-honeymoon at the Thunder Canyon Resort courtesy of that cheating rat she almost married. When Jace meets Joss, it’s best friends at first sight.

Nothing serious. They’re just great buddies.

Or so they keep telling themselves. But every moment they spend together draws them closer to the realization that there’s a lot more going on there than friendship.

I love it when best friends become so much more. I think Joss and Jace are meant for each other. And I totally enjoyed writing their story.

Happy reading, everyone!

Yours always,

Christine Rimmer

About the Author

CHRISTINE RIMMER came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a salesclerk to a waitress. Now that she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly, she insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oregon. Visit Christine at www.christinerimmer.com.

The Last
Single Maverick
Christine Rimmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For my readers.

You are the best!

Chapter One

Family reunions. Who needs them?

Jason Traub didn’t. He realized that now. And yet somehow, a few days ago, he’d decided that a trip to Montana for the annual summertime Traub family get-together would be a good idea.

Or maybe he’d just wanted to escape Midland, Texas, and the constant pressure to return to the family business. He should have realized that in Montana it would only be more of the same. Especially given that the whole family was here—and still putting on the pressure.

And why was it that the reunion seemed to get longer every year? This year, it began on the Saturday before Independence Day and would go straight through the whole week to the Sunday after the Fourth, with some family event or other taking place daily.

That first day, Saturday, June 30, featured a late-afternoon barbecue at DJ’s Rib Shack. Jason’s cousin DJ had Rib Shacks all over the western states. But this one happened to be at the Thunder Canyon Resort up on Thunder Mountain, which loomed, tall and craggy, above the small and charming mountain town of Thunder Canyon.

“Jace.” The deep voice came from behind him. “Glad you could make it.”

Jason, seated at one of the Rib Shack’s long, rustic, family-style tables, glanced over his shoulder at his older brother Ethan. “Great party,” Jason said. And it was. If you didn’t mind a whole bunch of family up in your face in a big, big way.

His brother leaned closer. “We need to talk.”

Jace pretended he didn’t hear and held up a juicy rib dripping Rib Shack secret sauce. “Great ribs, as always.” With the constant rumble of voices and laughter that filled the restaurant, how would Ethan know if Jace heard him or not?

Ethan grunted—and bent even closer to speak directly into his ear. “I know Ma and Pete want you back in Midland.” Pete Wexler was their stepdad. “But you’ve got options, and I mean that. There’s a place waiting for you right here at TOI Montana.”

TOI—for Traub Oil Industries—was the family business. The original office was in Midland, Texas, where Jason and his five siblings had been born and raised. Pete, their stepdad, was chairman of the board. And their mother, Claudia, was CEO. Last year, Ethan had opened a second branch of TOI in Thunder Canyon. Jackson, Jason’s fraternal twin, and their only sister, Rose, and her husband, Austin, were all at the new office with Ethan.

“No, thanks,” Jace said, and then reminded his brother—as he kept reminding everyone in the family, “I’m out of the oil business.”

Now it was Ethan’s turn to pretend not to hear. He squeezed Jason’s shoulder—a bone-crushing squeeze. “We’ll talk,” he said.

“No point,” Jace answered wearily. “I’ve made up my mind.”

But Ethan only gave him a wave and started talking to the large elderly woman on Jace’s right. Jace didn’t hear what they said to each other. He was actively not listening.

A moment later, Ethan moved on. Jace concentrated on his dinner. His plate was piled high with ribs, corn on the cob, coleslaw and steak fries. The food was terrific. Almost worth the constant grief he was getting from his family—about work, about his nonexistent love life, about everything.

Across the table, Shandie Traub, his cousin Dax’s wife, said, “Jason, here’s someone I want you to meet.” The someone in question stood directly behind Shandie. She had baby-fine blond hair and blue eyes and she was smiling at him shyly. Shandie introduced her. “My second cousin, Belinda McKelly. Belinda’s from Sioux Falls.”

“Hi, Jason.” Belinda colored prettily. She had to practically shout to be heard over the din. “I’m so pleased to meet you.” She bent closer and stuck her hand out at him.

Jace swiped a wet wipe over his fingers, reached across the table and gave her offered hand a shake. She seemed sweet actually. But one look in those baby blues of hers told him way more than he needed to know: Belinda wanted a husband. As soon as she let go, he grabbed an ear of corn and started gnawing on it, his gaze focused hard on his plate. When he dared to glance up again, she was gone.

Shandie gave him a look that skimmed real close to pissed off. “Honestly, Jace, you could make a little effort. It’s not like it would kill you.”

“Sorry,” he said, even though he didn’t feel sorry in the least. He only felt relieved not to have to make small talk with sweet Belinda McKelly.

To his right, the large elderly woman Ethan had spoken to a few moments before said warmly, “Such a lovely young girl.” The old lady’s warm tone turned cool as she spoke directly to Jason. “But I can see you’re not interested.” He kept working away at his ear of corn in hopes that the large old lady would turn and talk to the smaller old lady on her other side. No such luck. “I’m Melba Landry,” she said, “Lizzie’s great-aunt.” Lizzie was Ethan’s wife.

Resigned, Jason gave the woman a nod. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m Jason Traub, Lizzie’s brother-in-law.”

“I know very well who you are, young man.” Aunt Melba looked down her imposing nose at him. “I was married to Lizzie’s great-uncle Oliver for more than fifty years. Oliver, rest his soul, passed on last October. The Lord never saw fit to bless us with children of our own. I moved to Thunder Canyon just this past April. It’s so nice to be near Lizzie. Family is everything, don’t you think, Jason?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything.” To his left, he was vaguely aware that the second cousin sitting there had risen. Someone else slipped into the empty spot.

And Aunt Melba wasn’t through with him yet. “Jason, you know that we’re all concerned about you.”

“Kind of seems that way, yes.” He got busy on his second ear of corn, still hoping that putting all his attention on the food would get rid of her. It had worked with Belinda.

But Aunt Melba was not about to give up. “I understand you’re having some kind of life crisis.”

He swallowed. The wad of corn went down hard. He grabbed his water glass and knocked back a giant gulp. “Life crisis? No, ma’am. I’m not.”

“Please call me Melba—and there’s no point in lying about it. I’m seventy-six years old, young man. I know a man in crisis when I see one.”

“No, ma’am,” he said again. “I mean that. There’s no crisis.” By then, he was starting to feel a little like Judas at the last supper. If he just kept denying, maybe she would go away.

“I asked you to call me Melba,” she corrected a second time, more sternly.

“Sorry, Melba. But I mean it. I’m not having a crisis. I am doing just fine. And really, I—”

“There’s a lovely church here in town that I’ve been attending. Everyone is so friendly. I felt at home there from the first. And so will you, Jason.”

“Uh…”

“Tomorrow. Join us. The Thunder Canyon Community Church. North Main at Cedar Street. Come to the service at ten. I’ll be watching for you. There is no problem in this wide world that a little time with the Lord can’t resolve.”

“Well, Melba, thank you for the invitation. I’ll, um, try to be there.”

“Get involved, young man,” Melba instructed with an enthusiastic nod of her imposing double chin. “That’s the first step. Stop sitting on the sidelines of life.” She opened her mouth to say more, but the white-haired lady on her other side touched her arm and spoke to her. Melba turned to answer.

Jace held his breath. And luck was with him. Melba and the other old lady had struck up a conversation.

He was just starting to feel relieved when a hand closed on his left thigh and a sultry voice spoke in his ear. “Jace, aren’t you even going to say hi?”

He smelled musky perfume and turned his head slowly to meet a pair of glittering green eyes. “Hi.”

The woman was not any member of his extended family that he knew of. She had jet-black hair and wore a painted-on red tank top. “Oh, you’re kidding me.” She laughed. “You don’t remember? Last summer? Your brother Corey’s bachelor party at the Hitching Post?” The Hitching Post was a landmark restaurant and bar in town.

“I, uh…”

“Theresa,” the woman said. “Theresa Duvall.”

“Hey.” He tried on a smile. He remembered her now—vaguely anyway. For Jace, the weekend of Corey’s bachelor party and wedding had been mostly of the “lost” variety. His twin, Jackson, had still been single then. The two of them had partied straight through for three days. There had been serious drinking. Way too much drinking. And the night of the bachelor party, he’d gone home with Theresa, hadn’t he? Somehow, that had seemed like a good idea at the time. “So, Theresa,” he said, “how’ve you been?”

Her hand glided a little higher on his thigh. “I have been fine, Jace. Just fine. And it is so good to see you,” she cooed. “I had such a great time with you.” Theresa, as he recalled, was not the least interested in settling down. In fact, the look on her face told him exactly what she was interested in: another night like that one last summer.

He had to get out of there. He grabbed another wipe, swabbed off his greasy fingers and then gently removed Theresa’s wandering hand from his thigh. “Excuse me, Theresa.”

“Oh, now,” she coaxed in a breathy whisper, “don’t run off.”

“Men’s room?” He put a question mark after it, even though he knew perfectly well where the restrooms were.

Theresa pointed. “Over there.” She gave him a low-eyed, smoldering glance as he pushed his chair out and rose. “Hurry back,” she instructed, licking her lips.

It wasn’t easy, but he forced himself not to take off at a run. He ambled away casually, waving and nodding to friends and family as he headed for the restrooms—only detouring sharply for the exit as soon as he was no longer in Theresa’s line of sight. A moment later, he ducked out of the Rib Shack altogether and into the giant, five-story clubhouse lobby of the resort.

Now what?

Someplace quiet. Someplace where he could be alone.

The Lounge, he thought. It was a bar in the clubhouse and it was exactly what he needed right now. The Lounge was kind of a throwback really—a throwback to earlier times, when cattlemen had their own private clubs where the women didn’t trespass. In the Lounge, the lights were kept soothingly low. The bar was long and made of gleaming burled wood. It had comfortable conversation areas consisting of dark wood tables and fat studded-leather chairs. Women seemed to avoid the Lounge. They tended to prefer the more open, modern bar in the upscale Gallatin Room, or the cowboy-casual style of the bar in the Rib Shack.

The Lounge was perfect for the mood he was in.

He found it as he’d hoped it might be—mostly deserted. One lone customer sat up at the bar. A woman, surprisingly enough. A brunette. Jace liked the look of her instantly, which surprised him. As a rule lately, it didn’t matter how hot or good-looking a woman was. He just wasn’t interested. Not on any level.

But this woman was different. Special. He sensed that at first sight.

She had a whole lot of thick, tousled brown hair tumbling down her back. In the mirror over the bar, he could see that she had big brown eyes and full, kissable lips. She was dressed casually, in jeans and a giant white shirt, untucked. She wore very little makeup.

And the best thing about her? She seemed so relaxed. Like she wasn’t after anything except to sip her margarita and enjoy the quiet comfort of the Lounge.

She saw him watching her in the mirror over the bar. For a second or two, their eyes met. He felt a little curl of excitement down inside him before she glanced away. Instantly, he wanted her to glance at him again.

Surprise. Excitement. The desire that a certain woman might give him a second look. These were all emotions with which he’d become completely unfamiliar.

Yeah, all right. It wasn’t news that he used to be something of a player. But in the past six months or so? Uh-uh. He was tired of being a ladies’ man—like he was tired of just about everything lately. Including finding the right woman and settling down.

Because, yeah, Jason had tried that. Or at least, he’d wanted to try it with a certain rich-girl swimsuit model named Tricia Lavelle.

It hadn’t worked out. In fact, the whole experience had been seriously disheartening.

A cell phone on the bar started ringing. The brunette picked it up, scowled at the display and then put it to her ear. “What do you want?” She let out an audible sigh. “You’re not serious. Oh, please, Kenny, get real. It’s over. Move on.” She hung up and dropped the phone back on the bar.

Jace took the stool next to her and signaled the bartender. “Jack Daniels, rocks.” The bartender poured and set his drink in front of him. “And another margarita,” Jace added. “For the lady.”

“No, thanks.” She shook her head at the barkeep and he left them alone. Then she turned to Jace and granted him a patient look from that fine pair of enormous brown eyes. “No offense,” she said.

“None taken.”

“And don’t even think about it, okay? I’m on a solo vacation and right now, I hate men.”

He studied her face. It was such a great face. One of those faces a guy could look at forever and still find new expressions in it. “Already, I really like you.”

“Didn’t I just say I hate men?”

“That makes you a challenge. Haven’t you heard? Men love a challenge.”

“I’m serious. Don’t bother. It’s not gonna happen.”

He faced the rows of liquor bottles arrayed in front of the mirror over the bar and shrugged. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

She shot him a look. “Oh, come on. Is that the best you’ve got?”

He leaned his head on his hand and admired the way the dim barroom light somehow managed to bring out glints of auburn in her thick, wavy dark hair. “Uninspired, huh?”

She almost smiled. “Well, yeah.”

“Story of my life lately. I’ve got no passion for the game.”

“What game?”

He shrugged again. “Any game.”

She considered that. “Wow,” she said finally. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

She frowned and then looked at him sideways. “Wait a minute. Stop right there, buddy. I’m on to you.”

“Oh? What am I up to?”

“You sit there looking gorgeous and bored. I find I have a longing to bring some life back into your eyes. I let you buy me another margarita after all. I go home with you. We have wild, hot, incredible sex. But in the morning, you’re looking bored again and I’m feeling cheap and used.”

He decided to focus on the positive. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

“That was not my point. It was a cautionary tale.”

“I think you’re gorgeous,” he said and meant it. “And that’s kind of a breakthrough for me.”

“A breakthrough.” She was not impressed. “You’re kidding me.”

“I am as serious as a bad blind date. You’re the first woman I’ve felt attracted to in months. Who’s Kenny?”

She shook a finger at him. “You listened in on my phone call.”

“Not exactly. I overheard your phone call.”

“I’m just saying it was a private conversation and I don’t even know your name.”

“Jason Traub. Call me Jace.” He offered his hand.

She took it. “Jocelyn Marie Bennings. Call me Joss.”

It felt good, he realized, just to hold her hand. It felt… comfortable. And exciting, too. Both at once. That was a first—for him anyway. As a rule, with women, it was one or the other. He didn’t want to let go. But in the end, it wasn’t his choice.

She eased her hand free. “My wedding was supposed to be a week ago today. Kenny was the groom.”

“Supposed to be? You mean you didn’t marry him?”

“No, I didn’t. And I should have backed out long before the wedding day. But Kenny and I were together for five years. It was going to be a beautiful wedding. You should see my wedding gown. I still have it. I couldn’t bear to get rid of it. It’s fabulous. Acres of beading, yards of the finest taffeta and tulle. We planned a nice reception afterward at my restaurant.”

“You own a restaurant?”

“No. I mean the restaurant I was managing, until I quit to marry Kenny. I gave up a great job for him. Just like I gave up my cute apartment, because I thought I wouldn’t need either anymore.”

“But then you didn’t marry Kenny.”

“I already said I didn’t.”

“Just wanted to be sure. So what went wrong? Why didn’t you marry the guy?”

She ran her finger around the rim of her margarita glass. “Who’s telling this story, Jace?”

He gave her a nod. “You are, Joss. Absolutely. Carry on.”

“It was going to be the perfect wedding.”

He nodded once more, to show her he was listening, but he did not interrupt again.

She went on. “And after the wedding and the lovely reception, there was the great getaway honeymoon right here at the Thunder Canyon Resort. Followed by a move to San Francisco. Kenny’s a very successful advertising executive. He just hit the big time and got transferred to the Bay Area.” Joss paused. She turned her glass by the stem.

He wanted to prompt her to tell him what went wrong, but he didn’t. He waited patiently for her to go on, as he’d promised he would.

Finally, she continued. “I got all the way to the church last Saturday. Camellia City Methodist in Sacramento. It’s a beautiful church. And I was born and raised in Sacramento and have lived there all my life. I like my hometown. In fact, I didn’t really want to move to San Francisco, but I was willing to support my future husband in his powerhouse career. And I would have gone through with the wedding in spite of my doubts.”

He’d promised to let her tell it her way, but still. He had to know. “What doubts?”

She shook her head. “Kenny used to be such a sweet guy. But the more successful he got, the more he changed. He became someone I didn’t even know—and then I caught him with my cousin Kimberly in the coat room.”

“Hold on, you lost me. What coat room?”

She shook her head again, as though she still couldn’t quite believe it. “The coat room at Camellia City Methodist.”

Jace let his mouth fall open. “Kenny canoodled with Kimberly in the coat room on the day of your wedding?”

“Oh, yeah. And it was beyond canoodling. Kimberly was halfway out of her hot-pink satin bridesmaid’s dress and someone had unzipped Kenny’s fly. Both of them were red-faced and breathless. Kind of ruined the whole experience for me, you know?”

He made a low noise in his throat. “I guess so.”

Joss picked up the cell phone, studied it for a moment and then set it back down. “So I threw his engagement ring in his face and got the heck out of there—and I’m here at the resort anyway. Having my honeymoon minus the groom.”

He tipped his head at the phone. “But Kenny keeps calling.”

“Oh yes, he does.”

“What a douche bag.”

She sipped her margarita. “My sentiments exactly.”

“I hate guys like that. He blew it already. He should show a little dignity and leave you alone. But instead it’s, ‘Joss, please. I love you. I just want to work this out. Come back to me. I’m sorry, okay? And that silly thing with Kimberly? It meant nothing and it will never happen again.’”

Joss laughed. She had a beautiful, husky, warm sort of laugh. “How did you do that? You even captured the slightly wounded, whiney tone of his voice. Like I’m the one with the problem.”

Jace stared at her wide, soft mouth in unabashed admiration. “I like your laugh.”

She gave him her sternest frown. “Didn’t I tell you not to go there?”

He was about to argue that he wasn’t “going” anywhere, that he only liked the way she laughed. But before he could get the words out, Theresa Duvall sauntered up behind him and took the stool on his other side.

“Jace.” Theresa’s hand closed over his arm. He looked down at her fingernails, which were long and done up for the holiday with glittery red stripes and tiny, sparkly little stars. She leaned close and purred, “I’m a determined woman and there is no way you’re escaping me.”

Okay. He knew he only had himself to blame if Theresa considered him the perfect candidate for another no-strings night of meaningless sex. But he really liked Joss. And he’d never have a chance with her now, not with Theresa pulling on his arm, eyeing him like a starving person eyes a steak dinner.

And it wasn’t even that he wanted a chance with Joss. Not that kind of chance anyway. He just liked her a lot, liked talking with her, liked hearing her laugh. He didn’t want her to leave.

Shocked the socks off him when she didn’t leave. Somehow, she picked up on the desperate look he sent her. And not only did she stay right where she was, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him away from Theresa, drawing him close to her side.

Wow. It felt good—really good—to have her holding on to him, to feel her softness and the warmth of her. She smelled like soap and starch and sunshine and roses. And maybe a little tequila.

“Sorry,” she said to Theresa, her tone regretful. “This one’s taken.”

Theresa blinked. And then she let go of his arm and scowled. “Jace, what is your problem? You should have told me you were with someone. I want a good time as much as the next girl, but I would never steal another woman’s man.”

He was totally lost, awash in the superfine sensation of having Joss’s arm around him. But then she nudged him in the side and he realized he was supposed to speak. “Uh, yeah. You’re right, Theresa. I’m an ass. I should have said something.”

Joss clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “We had a fight. He’s been sulking.”

Theresa groaned. “Oh, I know how that goes. Men. I don’t let myself get serious with them anymore. They’re just not worth it.”

Joss pulled him even closer. And then she kissed his ear. It was barely a breath of a kiss. But still, with her arm around him and her lips close to his ear, he could almost forget that he had no interest in women anymore. He was enjoying every minute of this and he wished she would never let go. “I hear you,” she told Theresa, her breath all warm and tempting in his ear. “But when it’s true love, well, what can you do?”

Theresa just shook her head. The bartender approached. Theresa shook her head at him, too. And then, without another word, she got up and left.

Instantly, Joss released him and retreated to her own stool. Jace felt kind of bereft. But then he reminded himself that he should be grateful. She’d done him a favor and gotten Theresa off his back. “Thanks. I owe you one.” He raised his glass.

She tapped hers against it. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who was that?”

“Her name is Theresa Duvall. Last year, she was working at the Hitching Post—it’s this great old-time bar and grill down in town, on the corner of Main Street and Thunder Canyon Road.”

“She seemed like she knew you pretty well.”

“Not really.” He didn’t want to say more. But Joss was looking at him, a look that seemed to expect him to tell the truth. So he did. “I had a thing with her last summer. A very short thing.”

“A thing.”

“Yeah.”

“What, specifically, is a thing?”

He tried not to wince. “See, I knew you would ask that.”

Joss accused gently, “You slept with her.”

“Only once. And technically, well, there was no sleeping.”

She laughed again. Really, she had the best laugh. “Jace, I believe you’re a dog.”

He tipped his drink and stared down into it. “Maybe I was. Not anymore, though. I have changed my ways.”

She made a disbelieving sound. “Right.”

“No, seriously, I’m not the man I used to be. Too bad I’m not real clear on who, exactly, I’ve become. I lack… direction. Everyone says so. I’m not interested in women anymore. I don’t want to get laid. Or married. Also, I’ve given up my place in the family business and my family is freaked over that.”

“You live here in Thunder Canyon?”

“No, in Midland, Texas. Or I did. I have a nice little spread outside of town there. But I’ve put my place up for sale. I’m moving. I just don’t know where to yet. In the meantime, I’m here for a weeklong family reunion—a reunion that is going on right now, here at the resort, over at DJ’s Rib Shack.”

“I have another question, Jace.”

“Shoot.”

“Is there anything you do want?”

“That, Jocelyn Marie, is the question of the hour. Please come with me back to the Rib Shack.”

She was running her finger around the rim of her drink again. “You didn’t answer the question of the hour.”

“All right. There is nothing that I want—except for you to come back to the Rib Shack with me.”

Her smooth brow furrowed a little. “And I would want to go to your family reunion because?”

“Because only you can protect me from my family and all the women who want things from me that I’m not capable of giving them.”

She shook that head of thick brown hair and sat straighter on her stool. “Before I decide whether to go with you or not, I need to get something crystal clear.”

“Fine.”

“I want you to listen very carefully, Jace.”

He assumed a suitably intent expression. “I’m listening.”

“I’m. Not. Going. To. Have. Sex. With. You.”

“Oh, that.” He waved a hand. “It’s okay. I don’t care about that.”

“So you say now.”

“Look, Joss, I like you. You’re the first bright spot in my life in months. I just want to hang around with you for a while. Have a few laughs. No pressure. No drama. Nothing hot and heavy. No big romance.”

She stared at him for several seconds. Her expression said she still wasn’t sure she believed him. Finally she asked, “So you want to be… friends? Honestly? Just friends?”

“My God, I would love that.” He put some money on the bar. “The Rib Shack?”

She downed the last of her margarita. “Why not?”

Chapter Two

Joss surprised herself when she agreed to go with Jace.

But then, she got what he meant when he said that he liked her. She liked him, too. And not because he was tall and lean and handsome with thick, glossy dark hair and velvet-brown eyes. Not because he smelled of soap and a nice, clean, subtle, probably very expensive aftershave. Not because he was undeniably hot.

She didn’t care about hot. Her life had pretty much crumbled to nothing a week before. Finding a hot guy—or any guy for that matter—was the last thing on her mind.

Jocelyn liked Jason because he made her laugh. Because, even though he carried himself like he owned the world, she could see in his eyes that he really was flummoxed by life, that he used to be one guy and now he wasn’t that guy anymore. That he wasn’t all that familiar with the guy he was now. Joss could relate to that kind of confusion. It was exactly the confusion she felt.

She entered the Rib Shack on Jace’s arm. The casual, Western-themed restaurant was packed. Jason Traub, as it turned out, had a very large family.

“Jason, there you are,” said a good-looking older woman with a slim figure and sleek light brown hair. “I was starting to wonder if you’d already left.”

“No, Ma,” Jace said, his charming smile not quite masking the wariness in his eyes. “I’m still here.”

Jace’s mother turned a bright glance on Joss. “Hello.”

Jace made the introductions. Joss smiled and nodded at his mom, whose name was Claudia.

Claudia asked, “Do you live here in town, Jocelyn?”

“No, I’m from Sacramento.”

Jace said, “Joss is staying here at the resort.”

“With your family?” his mom quizzed. Claudia had that look, Joss thought, the look of a mother on the trail of every bit of information she could gather about the new girl her son had brought to the family party.

“I’m here on my own,” Joss told her. “Having a great time, too. I love the spa. And the shopping in the resort boutiques. And I’m learning to play golf.” All of it on Kenny Donovan’s dime, thank you very much.

An ordinary-looking man a few years older than Jace’s mom stepped up and took Claudia’s arm. Claudia beamed at him, her golden-brown eyes glowing with affection. “Darling, this is Jocelyn, Jason’s new friend. Jocelyn, my husband, Pete—we’re staying here at the resort, too. A romantic getaway, just us two old folks in the Governor’s Suite.”

Joss was in the Honeymoon Suite, but she didn’t say so. It would only be asking for more questions than she was prepared to answer at the moment—which was kind of amusing in a dark sort of way. She hadn’t even hesitated to tell Jace that she’d run away from her own wedding. But somehow, with everyone else, well, she didn’t want to go there. And she really appreciated that Jace was keeping his mouth shut about it.

He seemed like a great guy. And his parents were adorable, she thought. So much in love, so attentive to each other. There should be more couples in the world like Claudia and Pete.

Claudia said, “I hope you’ll join us for dinner tomorrow night, Jocelyn. It will be at the home of Jason’s twin, Jackson, and Jackson’s wife, Laila. They have a nice little property not far from town.”

“Yeah, you should come,” Jace said with enthusiasm. “I’ll take you.”

Joss gave him a look that said he shouldn’t push it and asked, “You have a twin?”

Claudia laughed. “A fraternal twin. Jackson is older by an hour and five minutes. That makes Jason my youngest son. I also have one daughter, Rose. She’s the baby of the family. Dillon, Ethan and Corey are the older boys.”

Joss did the math. “Wow, six kids. I’m jealous. I was an only child. My mother raised me on her own.”

Claudia reached out and touched Joss’s shoulder, a fond kind of touch. “Sweet girl,” she said softly. And Joss felt all warm and fuzzy inside. “You come to dinner tomorrow night,” Jace’s mom said again. “We would love to have you join us.”

“Thank you,” Joss said, and left it at that.

A few moments later, Jace led her out onto the Rib Shack’s patio where the band was set up but taking a break. They found a reasonably quiet corner where they could talk without having to shout.

“My mother likes you,” Jace said.

“You say that like you’re not sure if it’s good or bad.”

“Yeah, well, Ma thinks I got my heart broken and she really wants me to be happy. She’s decided I only need to meet another woman, the right woman, so I can get married and settle down like my brothers and my sister. Now she’ll be finding all kinds of ways to throw us together.”

“We’ll resist, of course.”

“Of course we will.”

“Who broke your heart, Jace?”

He hedged. “It’s a long story.”

“I told you mine,” she teased.

He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Well, you know, this isn’t the place or the time.”

She got the message. “You don’t want to tell me—and you know what? That’s okay.”

“Whew.” He made a show of wiping nonexistent sweat from his brow. “And even though I hate to give my mother the wrong idea about us, I think you ought to come to dinner at Jackson’s tomorrow. You know, just to be social.”

She gave him a slow look. She knew he was up to something.

And he was. He admitted, “I also want you there because I like you.”

“Uh-huh. What else? Give it to me straight, Jace.”

“Fair enough. If you come, everyone will think we’re together—I mean really together, as in more than friends. And that means my family will stop trying to set me up.”

“You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

“You don’t have to pretend anything. If you’re with me, they’ll assume there’s something going on. It doesn’t matter if you tell them that we’re just friends. They won’t believe you. It doesn’t matter that I will tell them we’re just friends. They’ll only be certain we’re in denial about all that we mean to each other.”

“Still, it seems dishonest.”

“Is it our fault if people insist on jumping to conclusions?”

Strangely, she found that she wanted to go to dinner at his brother’s house. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. And don’t let my mother get you alone. She’ll only start in about the family business and how she needs me in Midland and she hopes that you will be open to the idea of moving to Texas because she’s already hearing wedding bells in our future.”

“What is the family business anyway?”

“I didn’t tell you? It’s oil. Except for my oldest brother, Dillon, who’s a doctor, we’re all in oil.”

She laughed. “Knee-deep?”

“All the way over our heads in it, trust me. We’re Traub Oil Industries. I was a vice president in the Midland office. I quit the first of April. I was supposed to be out of there by the end of May. My mother and Pete kept finding reasons why I had to stay. I finally escaped just this past Wednesday. I’m never going back.”

“You sound determined.”

“Believe me, I am.”

“How come you call your dad Pete?”

“He’s my stepdad. My father, Charles, was something of a legend in the oil business. He died in an accident on a rig when I was little. My mom married Pete about two years later. Her last name is Wexler now. None of us were happy when she married him. We were loyal to our dad and we resented Pete.”

“We?”

“My brothers, my sister and I. But Pete’s not only a good man, he’s also a patient one. He won all of us over eventually. Pete had a heart attack a couple of years ago. We almost lost him. That really taught us how much he means to us.”

“It’s so obvious he’s head over heels in love with your mom.”

“Yes, he is. A man like that is damn hard to hate.” He took her arm. “Come on, I want you to meet my brothers.”

They wandered back inside. Joss met Dillon and Ethan and Corey and Jace’s twin, Jackson. The two did look a lot alike—meaning tall, dark and handsome. But it wasn’t the least difficult to tell them apart. Joss also met the Traub boys’ only sister, Rose, and Rose’s husband, Austin, and she visited with the wives of Jason’s brothers. She liked them all, with Lizzie, Ethan’s wife, possibly being her favorite.

Lizzie Traub was tall and sturdily built, with slightly wild-looking dark blond hair and a no-nonsense way about her. She owned a bakery, the Mountain Bluebell, in town. Everyone said that Lizzie baked the best muffins in Montana.

And beyond Jace’s brothers and sister and their spouses, there were Traub cousins, too: DJ and Dax and their wives Allaire and Shandie. And also Clay and Forrest Traub, two cowboys from Rust Creek Falls, which was about three hundred miles from Thunder Canyon.

Joss was starting to wonder how she was going to keep all their names straight when a woman named Melba Landry, who was Lizzie Traub’s great-aunt, caught up with them. A big woman with a stern face, Melba possessed a truly impressive bosom. Joss tried not to laugh as the energetic old woman cornered Jace and insisted she wanted to see him at her church the next morning.

“Of course he’ll come,” Joss told Melba. “There’s nothing Jace enjoys more than a good Sunday service.”

Beside her, Jace made a low groaning sound.

And Melba turned her sharp hazel eyes on Joss. “Excellent. I want to see you there, too, young lady.”

“Well, now, I don’t exactly know if I—”

“We’ll be there,” Jace promised. Joss elbowed him in the ribs, but he didn’t relent.

Aunt Melba said, “Wonderful. The service begins at ten.” And she sailed off to corner some other unsuspecting potential churchgoer.

The party continued. It really was fun. Joss forgot her troubles and just had a good time. She spotted Theresa Duvall dancing with a tall, lean cowboy, one of Jace’s cousins from Rust Creek Falls. Theresa clung to that cowboy like paint. She didn’t seem the least upset that things hadn’t worked out for her with Jace.

Joss and Jace danced. He was a good dancer. Plus, he kept to their agreement about just being friends. He didn’t hold her too close. She swayed in his arms and thought how good it felt to be held by him. His body and hers just kind of fit together. He was a great guy and if things were different she would definitely be attracted to him. Really, the longer they danced, the more she started thinking that she wouldn’t mind at all if he did hold her closer….

But no. That wouldn’t be a good idea. The last thing she needed right now was a new man in her life. She liked Jace as a person, but still. He was a man. All man. And she wasn’t trusting any man. Not now.

Not for a long, long time, if ever.

It was after ten when the party broke up. She and Jace were among the last to leave. They wandered out to the lobby together and then kind of naturally turned for the elevators side-by-side.

The Honeymoon Suite was on the top floor. The doors opened and they left the elevator.

At the door, she paused, key card in hand. “If I let you in, you have to promise not to put a move on me.”

He looked hurt. “Joss, come on. How many ways can I tell you? I need a friend. You need a friend. That’s what we’ve got going on here. It’s all we’ve got going on here.”

She chewed her lower lip for a moment. “All right. I believe you.” And then she stuck her key in the slot and pushed the door wide.

He followed her in, through the skylit foyer area into the living/dining room, which had floor-to-ceiling windows with a spectacular view. “Nice.”

“Hey, only the best for Kenny Donovan’s runaway bride.” She headed for the wet bar. “How about a little champagne and caviar? On Kenny, of course.”

“Got a beer?”

She gave him one from the fridge and grabbed a ginger ale for herself. “Make yourself at home.” He took a fat leather easy chair and she shucked off her shoes and curled up on the sofa.

And they talked. About his family. About the party at the Rib Shack. About how they both thought Lizzie was great and how Lizzie’s aunt Melba cracked them up.

“So how long are you here for?” he asked.

She thought how much she liked his voice. It was deep and warm and made her want to cuddle up against him—which she was not, under any circumstances, going to do. Ever. “Another week. As long as Kenny doesn’t put a stop on his platinum card, I am having my whole two-week un-honeymoon.”

“And then?”

“Back to Sacramento. To find a job. And a new place to live.”

“We have so much in common,” he said. “I’m here for a week, too.”

“You told me. The family reunion. And then after that?”

“I suppose I’ll have to get a life. But I’m not even going to think about that yet.”

“Jace, I like the way you completely avoid anything remotely resembling responsibility. Aunt Melba would so not approve.”

“Thank you, Joss. I do my best.” He tipped his longneck at her. “I’m glad we’re friends. Let’s be best friends.”

“All right. I’m up for that.”

“Best friends for a week,” he declared.

She held up her index finger and reminded him, “No benefits.”

He looked at her from under his thick dark brows. “You know you’re killin’ me here. Have I, in any way, put any kind of move on you?”

“Nope, not a one.”

“Then can we be done with the constant reminders about how I’m not supposed to try and get you naked?”

She saluted him with a hand to her forehead. “You got it. I believe you. You are not going to make any attempt whatsoever to get into my pants. Even if you are a man.”

“Your trust is deeply touching.”

The phone rang. It was on the side table next to the sofa, so she reached over and picked it up. “What?”

“Jocelyn, honestly. Is that any way to answer the phone?”

Without even thinking about it, Joss lowered her feet to the rug and sat up straighter. “Mom, hey.” She ran a hand back through her hair. “What’s up?”

“How can you ask me that? You know I’m worried sick about you.”

“I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry.”

“When are you coming home?”

“I told you. A week from tomorrow.” She sent Jace a sheepish glance and mouthed the word Sorry.

He shrugged to let her know it wasn’t a big deal. Then he got up and went over to the wall of windows. He stood gazing out. She indulged in a long, slow look at him, from his fancy tooled boots, up over his lean legs and hips in crisp denim, his wide shoulders in a beautifully tailored midnight-blue Western shirt. His hair was thick and dark. She had no doubt it would be silky to the touch.

A great-looking guy. And a considerate one. It was kind of him to pretend to admire the view to give her the space she needed to take this unwelcome call. There ought to be more guys in the world like him.

Her mom said, “This is all just a big misunderstanding. You realize that, don’t you? Kenny would never—”

“Mom.” She struggled to keep her voice calm and even. “I saw him with Kimberly. There was no misunderstanding what I saw.”

“Kimberly is terribly upset, too. She’s hurt you would think such horrible, cruel things about her.”

“Oh, please. Don’t get me started on Kimberly. I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Mom. I really don’t.”

“Kenny came to see me this evening.”

Joss gasped. “He what?” She must have said it kind of loud because Jace glanced back at her, those sexy dark eyes full of concern. She shook her head at him. He turned to face the window again and she told her mother, “He has no right to bother you. None. Ever again.”

“Honey, he’s not bothering me. He loves you. He wants to work things out with you. He’s crushed that you left him at the altar the way you did. You’ve humiliated him, but still, he forgives you and only wants to work things out so you two can be together as you were meant to be.”

There was a crystal bowl full of expensive chocolates on the coffee table. Joss resisted the blinding urge to grab it and fling it at the far wall. “Mom, listen. Listen carefully. I am not going to get back together with Kenny. Ever. He and I are done. Finished. As over as it gets.”

“If only your father hadn’t left us. You wouldn’t be so mistrustful of men. You wouldn’t ruin the best chance you’re ever going to get with a good man who will give you the kind of life you deserve.”

She replied through clenched teeth. “There are so many ways I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Just come home, honey. Come home right away.”

“Mom, I’m hanging up now. I love you very much and I’ll be home in a week.”

“Jocelyn. Jocelyn, wait…”

But Joss didn’t wait. She hung up the phone. And then she stared at it hard, daring it to ring again.

But apparently, her mother had come to her senses at least minimally and decided to leave awful enough alone.

For tonight anyway.

At the window, Jace turned. “Bad?”

She covered her face with her hands. “Yeah, beyond bad.”

He left the window and came to her, walking softly in those fancy boots of his. She only heard his approach because she was listening for it. “Want to talk about it?”

“Ugh.”

“Come on.”

She lowered her hands and met his waiting eyes. He was standing across the coffee table from her, his hands in his pockets, accepting of whatever she might say, willing to listen. Ready to understand. She tipped her head at the cushion beside her. He took her invitation, crossing around the low table, dropping down next to her, stretching his arm out along the back of the couch in an invitation of his own.

An invitation she couldn’t pass up at that moment. With a sad little sigh, she leaned her head on his shoulder. He smoothed her hair, but only lightly, and then draped his big arm around her.

It was a nice moment. Comforting. He was so large and warm and solid. And he smelled so clean and manly. And she really needed a strong shoulder to lean on. Just for a minute or two.

She said, “That was my mom.”

“Yeah, I got that much.”

“I told you she raised me on her own, didn’t I?”

“You mentioned that, yeah.”

“My dad disappeared when I was two. My mom says he just told her he was through one day and walked out. We never heard from him again.”

“That’s rough, Joss. Really rough.” He squeezed her shoulder, a touch that comforted, that seemed to acknowledge how hard it had been for her. “It can really mess with your mind, to lose your dad when you’re only a kid. It can leave you feeling like you’re on the outside looking in—at all your friends and their happy, whole families. You grow up knowing what normal is. It’s what all the other kids have.”

She realized he was speaking from personal experience. “How old were you when your dad died?”

“Jackson and I were six.”

“So at least you knew him, your dad.”

“Kind of. He was always working, making his mark on the world, you could say. But yeah, we all looked up to him with stars in our eyes. We felt safe, just knowing he was our dad. He was one of those guys who really fills up a room. Rose always claims it was worse for her than for us boys. She never knew him—well, at least she doesn’t remember him. She was two when he was killed.”

“Same age I was when my dad left. And I don’t remember him either. All I have is the… absence of him.” She pulled away enough to meet Jace’s eyes. “You really don’t need to hear this. You’re sweet to be so understanding, but it’s old news and it’s got nothing to do with you.”

He reached for her, pulled her back down to him. She started to resist, but then, well, why not, if he was willing to listen? She gave in and sagged against him, settling her head against his shoulder again—and yeah, she’d promised herself she would never cuddle up with him. But this wasn’t cuddling. This was only leaning. And there was nothing wrong with a little leaning when a girl needed comfort from a friend.

“Keep talkin’,” he said. “What’s your mom’s name?”

“RaeEllen. Her maiden name was Louvacek, but she kept my father’s name, never changed it back. She always said she only wanted a good guy to stand by her. But I don’t think she went looking after my dad left. It was like she… gave up when it came to men. She never dated when I was growing up, not that I can remember. She worked at Safeway, eventually moving up to managing her own store, which she still does to this day. And she took care of me. She was a good mom, a strict mom. And she always wanted the best for me. To her, Kenny seemed like a dream come true.”

“So for some reason, she decided she could trust the cheater?”

“He was always good to her—kissing up to her really, it seems to me, in hindsight. When she would have us over for dinner, he would bring her flowers every time and fall all over her praising her cooking. And she knew how well he was doing at work, getting promotions, one after the other. She just… bought Kenny’s act, hook, line and sinker. She refuses to believe that the thing with Kimberly even happened. Kenny’s convinced her that I’ve blown an ‘innocent encounter’ all out of proportion.”

“Convinced her? You’re saying she’s speaking to him, after what he did to you?”

“Because she doesn’t believe he did anything bad, I guess she figures she’s got no reason not to speak to him.”

“She’s your mom and I won’t speak ill of her. But I will say she ought to get her loyalties straight.”

“Hah, I wish. When it comes to Kenny, she’s got on her rose-colored glasses and I’ve yet to convince her she really needs to take them off. I try to see it from her point of view. She finally decided to give another man a break, to trust Kenny—for my sake. And now she just can’t bear to admit she got it wrong again.”

“I guess it’s understandable,” Jace said. “But still. You’re her daughter. She should be backing you up.”

“Yeah, I wish. You know how I told you I had doubts about Kenny before I caught him with Kimberly?”

“I remember.”

“Well, I went to my mom and confided in her. I told her that Kenny wasn’t the guy I loved anymore, that sometimes I felt like I didn’t even know him, he was so different from who he used to be. She was the one who convinced me my fears were groundless, that I only had a very normal case of pre-wedding jitters, that Kenny was a wonderful man and it was all going to be fine.”

Jace touched her hair again, gently, an easing kind of touch. “So your judgment about the guy was solid. And your mom couldn’t—and still can’t—let herself see the truth. I’m betting she’ll get the picture in time.”

“I hope so.”

“And the main thing is that you didn’t go through with it. You had the guts to turn and walk away. You’re a strong woman. And you’re going to be fine.”

Joss could have stayed in Jace’s arms all night. But she’d had her head on his shoulder for several minutes now—too long really. She needed to pull herself together, no matter how good it felt to lean on him.

She sat up and retreated to her end of the sofa. That time, he didn’t try to stop her, and she was glad that he didn’t. If she was going to have a man for a friend—even just for a week—it was nice to think he was the kind of guy who would know when to put his arm around her.

And when to let her go.

“Mostly,” she said, “I think I’m doing pretty well, you know?”

He gave her a slow nod, his dark eyes steady on hers.

“I tell myself I’m getting past what happened last Saturday. But every time my mom calls, she just brings the whole mess into painful focus all over again. Her blindness to the reality of the situation makes me see way too clearly what a huge mistake I made.” She held up her thumb and forefinger, with just a sliver of space between them. “I got this close to marrying a guy who cheated on me on our wedding day—and with my own cousin, no less.”

“But you didn’t marry him. Focus on that, Joss.”

She braced her elbow on the sofa arm and rested her chin on her hand. “You’re right, I didn’t. But I did quit my job for that rotten, no-good cheater. I gave up my cute apartment. When I go home, I’ll be starting all over again.”

“Maybe you can get your job back.”

“Maybe I can. We’ll see.” She straightened her spine. What she wanted right now was a long bath accompanied by an equally long, totally self-indulgent crying jag. “Thank you for listening—and I need to stop whining.”

He gave her a slightly crooked smile. “I have the strangest feeling you’re giving me the boot.” He picked up his beer from the coffee table and downed the last of it.

“It’s only, well, lately talking to my mom really brings me down.” She tried to think of something snappy and charming to say, so they could end the evening on a happier note. But right then, she was all out of snappy, totally bereft of charming.

He rose. “It’s the great thing about a best friend. Even a best friend for a week. You don’t have to explain anything. All you have to say is good night.”

Jace thought about Joss all the way out to Jackson and Laila’s place.

He hoped she was okay. And he hoped he’d done the right thing by leaving when she asked him to.

What else could he have done? She’d had that look. Like all she wanted was to get into bed—alone—and pull the covers up over head. He’d figured the best thing he could do for her right then was to get lost.

Jackson and Laila had ten beautiful, wooded acres with a big two-story farmhouse, a barn and a paddock where they kept a few horses. When Jace pulled up in front of the house, the lights were off upstairs. But through the shut blinds of the front room’s picture window, Jace could make out the faint glow of the flatscreen TV. He figured he would find his brother in there, channel-surfing, waiting up.

Jace was right.

Jackson sat in his favorite recliner, the mutt he and Laila had adopted from the animal shelter snoozing at his feet. Jace entered the room and Jackson turned off the TV. “Beer?”

“No, thanks.” Jace dropped into the other recliner and popped out the footrest. “Good party at the Rib Shack.”

Jackson grunted. “Ethan get after you?”

“Yeah.”

“He thinks he’s going to talk you into coming in with us.”

“It’s not gonna happen.”

“Yeah.” Jackson set the remote on the table by his chair. “I told him that. More than once. But you know how he can be when he gets an idea in his head.”

Jace closed his eyes. He felt comfortable. Easy. It was always like that with him and Jackson. Even when they fought—which they used to do a lot when they were younger—there was a certain understanding between them. They didn’t need a lot of words. They just accepted each other.

The mutt’s collar jangled as he scratched himself. The dog’s name was Einstein. He wasn’t much to look at, but Jackson claimed he was really smart.

Jackson said, “You know, I thought you said you’d sworn off women. But you’re in Thunder Canyon barely twenty-four hours and already you’ve got a girl.”

“No, I don’t.” Jace gave the denial in an easy tone, knowing his brother wouldn’t believe him.

“Shame on you, Jason. Lying to your own twin brother.”

“Joss is great. I liked her the first minute I saw her. But it’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

Jackson chuckled. “Yeah, and if you think I believe that, I’ve got some oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you.”

“I mean it. We’re friends. She’s here for another week. I’ll be hanging around with her if she’ll put up with me, but nothing’s going to happen between us.”

“Hey, whatever you say. I’m just glad to see you taking an interest in a woman again. And she seems like a great girl to me. Laila liked her, too. So did Ma.”

Jace made a low noise that could have meant anything and hid his smile. His family—including his twin—were all so predictable. He showed up with a woman at his side, and they couldn’t believe there was nothing but friendship going on.

Which suited him just fine.

Jackson spoke again, gruffly this time. “And it’s good, that you came back to Montana finally.”

Jace knew he’d hurt his brother’s feelings by not coming to Thunder Canyon over the holidays—and worse, he hadn’t been there for Jackson and Laila’s Valentine’s Day wedding.

Time to try and get that behind them. “I’m sorry, Jackson, that I didn’t come for the holidays when you invited me. And missing your wedding? That was the worst. I know it was wrong of me not to be there.”

Jackson didn’t answer for a full sixty seconds at least. Finally, he grunted. “I was pretty miffed at the time—especially that you didn’t show to be my best man. But I’m over it.”

Jace confessed, “I didn’t know my ass from up for a while there. I didn’t come at Christmas because of Tricia.” He said her name and waited to feel miserable. Instead, he realized, he felt perfectly okay. Apparently, he really was putting all that behind him. “The last thing Tricia said she wanted was to ‘head for the sticks over the holidays’—her words, not mine. I didn’t even argue with her. I was gone, gone, gone. It was ‘Whatever Tricia wants, Tricia gets,’ as far as I was concerned. And then it all went to hell. For a couple of months after New Year’s, I was operating strictly on autopilot. I went to work and I went home. Then you and Laila decided you wanted a Valentine’s Day wedding. I was a mess. I just wasn’t up for it.”

“Sounds like you’re better off without Tricia Lavelle.”

“I am. A lot better off. I see that now. But at the time, I was one-hundred-percent certain it was the real thing with her. You know how I’ve always been. Not a guy who ever gets serious over any woman. So when I actually thought it was love, I went for it. All the way. How wrong could I get? It was a rude awakening when it ended, let me tell you.”

“Rough, huh?”

“Bad love will do it to you every time—not that it was love. Not that I even have a clue what love is.”

Jackson slid him a cautious glance. “The whole family kind of wonders if you’re really over her yet.”

Jace tried to picture Tricia’s face in his mind. Somehow, the image wouldn’t quite take form. And then he thought of Joss—her great laugh, how much fun it was just to talk to her, those big brown eyes and all that gorgeous cinnamon-shot coffee-colored hair. He had no trouble picturing his new best friend at all. “Oh, yeah,” he told his twin. “I’m over Tricia. I’m ready for a brand-new start.”

Jackson chuckled. “Good. You quit your job and you don’t want to live in Midland anymore, so it looks to me like a new start is exactly what you’re going to get.”

Chapter Three

The phone by the bed was ringing.

With a groan of protest, Joss lifted her head from the pillow and squinted at the bedside clock. Nine-fifteen in the morning. Not what you’d call early. Unless you’d lain wide awake until the wee hours, stewing over your bad choices, angry at your mother, wondering what you were going to do with your life….

And the phone was still ringing.

Surely, eventually, it would cycle back to the front desk, because she didn’t want to answer it. Who could it be except her mother calling to beg her to come back to Kenny—or Kenny calling to demand she stop being “petty” and quit making such a big deal over a tiny little incident that had meant exactly nothing?

Hah.

She reached over and grabbed the phone and barked into it, “I do not want to hear another word about it. Do you understand?”

The voice of her new best friend answered, “Aunt Melba is going to be disappointed. You know she was really looking forward to seeing you in church.”

Joss dragged herself to a sitting position and swiped her tangled hair back off her face. “Ugh. And wait a minute. Did I actually tell her I would be there?”

“No,” Jace admitted. “You hedged. Aunt Melba assumed. I said you’d be there.”

“So thoughtful of you to make my commitments for me.”

“Did I mention I brought coffee?”

“Brought? Where are you?”

“Waiting in the hallway outside your door.”

She grinned. She couldn’t stop herself. “That is so not fair.”

“Vanilla latte. Just sayin’.”

“All right, all right. You sold me.” She hung up, grabbed her robe and belted it as she hurried to let him in. When she opened the door, he held out the tall Starbucks cup. She took it, sipped and gestured him inside, shutting the door and then leaning back against it with a sigh. “Yum. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave her one of those knock-your-socks-off smiles of his. Really, he was looking great, freshly showered and shaved, in a different pair of expensive boots, tan slacks, a button-down shirt and a nicely cut sport coat.

She grumbled, “At least someone got a good night’s sleep.”

He took in her blenderized hair, the robe, her bare feet—and her grumpy expression. “Sorry to wake you up.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not.” He took her shoulders, turned her around and pointed her toward the bedroom. “Go on. Get ready. We don’t want to be late. Aunt Melba would never forgive us.”

“Who’s this ‘we,’ cowboy?” She muttered over her shoulder, but she went. And she took her latte with her.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged feeling church-ready in a pink silk blouse and an oyster-white skirt, with a favorite pair of low-heeled slingbacks in a slightly lighter pink than the blouse. She’d pinned her hair up loosely and worn the pearl earrings her mom had given her when she graduated from high school.

Jace said, “You look amazing.”

She realized she felt better. A lot better. Jace seemed to have that effect on her. He cheered her up, had her looking on the bright side, thinking that something exciting and fun could be happening any minute. She grabbed her pink purse and off they went.

Thunder Canyon Community Church, Jace explained, was in what the locals called Old Town, with its narrower, tree-lined streets and buildings that had stood since pioneer times.

Joss loved the church on sight. It was, to her, the perfect little white clapboard church, with tall windows all along the sides and a single spire in front that housed the bell tower. A mature box elder tree shaded the church steps and the small square of front lawn.

The doors into the reception area stood wide as the church bell finished chiming. Inside, the organist was playing something suitably reverent, yet inviting. People smiled and said hello. Melba was there, wearing a blue flowered dress and a little blue hat, standing guard over the open guestbook. She greeted them with an approving smile and showed them where to sign.

Joss signed her name and “Sacramento, California,” for her address. She felt a little tug of glumness, to be reminded that she didn’t have a place to call her own anymore, that all her household possessions were packed up in boxes and stacked in a rented storage unit, waiting for her to figure out what to do with her life.

But the glumness quickly passed when Jace took her arm. They entered the sanctuary and the organ music swelled louder. The sun shone in the tall windows and Jace’s brother Ethan signaled them up to a pew near the front. Lizzie, on Ethan’s other side, leaned across her husband to greet them as they sat down.

The service was as lovely and comforting as the little white church itself. Joss even knew the words to a couple of the hymns. The pleasant-faced pastor gave a sermon on God’s grace, and somehow all of Joss’s problems seemed insignificant, workable. Just part of life.

After the service, Lizzie reminded them that she would love to treat them to free muffins at her bakery. Meanwhile, Ethan said he wanted Jace to take a tour of his Thunder Canyon office building.

Jace said, “No, thanks. Gotta go,” and herded Joss toward the exit.

Melba was at her post by the guestbook. She told them how glad she was that they had come. “And I want to see you both at the Historical Society Museum very soon. I’ve been helping out there several times a week. Thunder Canyon is a fascinating place with a rich history. While you’re in town, you might as well learn something.”

Joss only smiled and nodded. Jace ended up promising he would drop by the museum soon.

From the church, they went over to Lizzie’s bakery, where they split a complimentary blueberry muffin and each had a ham and egg croissant and a tall glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Jace seemed to know everyone. He introduced her to a guy named Connor McFarlane and his wife, Tori, who was pregnant and just starting to show. Tori taught at the high school. Connor was not only the heir to the McFarlane House hotel chain, but he was also a major investor in the resort.

Joss also met Grant Clifton, his wife, Stephanie, and their little boy, AJ. The child was seventeen months old and adorable, with golden curls and a sunny smile. Stephanie let Joss hold him. He was so sweet and friendly, dimpling at her, laying his plump little hand against her cheek, even leaning his blond head on her shoulder. Joss gave him back to his mom with a little tug of regret. She wished she could have several little ones just like him.

Maybe someday…

Grant Clifton seemed vaguely familiar. When he explained that he managed the resort, Joss realized she’d seen him behind the front desk once and another time at the resort’s best restaurant, the Gallatin Room.

That was the great thing about a small town like this one, Joss thought. You could get to know almost everyone. And when you walked down the street, people just naturally smiled and said hi.

After they left the bakery, Jace took her hand. They started strolling west down Main Street, enjoying the sunshine, looking in the windows of the quaint little shops. It felt good to have her hand in his. Really good. Maybe too good.

She let him lead her along for another block before she realized they were going the wrong direction and hung back. “Hey, wait a minute. Your car’s that way.” She pointed over her shoulder. They’d left his fancy SUV back near the church.

“So? It’s not going anywhere.” He tugged on her hand. “Come on, I want to show you the Hitching Post—you know, that great old bar and restaurant I told you about yesterday?”

She eased her fingers from his grip. “Right, the one where you hooked up with Theresa Duvall.”

He stood there on the corner, his dark hair showing glints of bronze in the sun, and looked at her reproachfully. “What did I do?”

She hung her head and stared down at her pretty pink slingbacks. “Not a thing. Sorry, that was low.”

“Yeah, it was. But I’ll get over it. Hey, look at me.”

Reluctantly, she raised her head. His eyes gleamed. With just a look, he made her want to smile at him. But she didn’t.

On that corner was a homey-looking restaurant with flowered café curtains in the windows. The restaurant was closed. He stepped into the alcove by the door and tipped his head at her, signaling her to join him.

“We can’t stand here on the corner forever,” she groused, as an older couple walked past her and went on across the street.

He chuckled. “We’re not standing on the corner. You are.” He waved her into the alcove with him. “Come on. Come here…”

Reluctantly, she went. “What?”

He whispered in her ear, “I love the Hitching Post.”

“Whoop-de-do.” She spun her index finger in the air.

“Joss, about your attitude?”

“Yeah?”

“Lighten up.”

She knew he had a point. “Okay, okay. So why do you love the Hitching Post?”

He sat on the wide window ledge next to the door. “Good memories, that’s why. When I was a kid, we always used to go there every time we came to town. My dad would take us. We’d get burgers and fries and milkshakes on the restaurant side, where they allowed kids, and it was a special thing, with all of us together, with my dad relaxed and really with us, you know, focused on the family? He used to call us his little mavericks. I thought that was so cool. It seems to me that we went to the Hitching Post often, even though I know that we couldn’t have. I was only six when he died. And we only got to visit Thunder Canyon now and then in the summer. But I do remember clearly that on our last visit here before he died, my dad took me to the Hitching Post alone, the two of us. For some reason, Jackson didn’t even get to come. It was just me and my dad and I was the happiest kid on the planet.” He rose from the window ledge. His eyes holding hers, he took a few stray strands of her hair and guided them back behind her ear. A small shiver cascaded through her and she wanted to move even closer to him—at the same time as she knew she ought to step back.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I get it now—why that place is so special to you.”

“Good.” His caressing tone hovered somewhere on the border between gentle and intimate. “I mean, nothing against Theresa, but she’s not what I think about when the Hitching Post comes to mind.”

Joss felt rotten, and not only for razzing him about Theresa. There was also the uncomfortable fact that she was starting to wonder what it might feel like to kiss him. Plus, she was flat-out envious of him.

He had a great big, terrific family. And he’d had a dad, a real dad, until he was six, a dad who hadn’t left him willingly. Then, when he lost his dad, he’d gotten kind Pete Wexler as a stepdad. Her dad, on the other hand, had walked out before she even had a chance to know him. Her family consisted of her and her mom and right now, her mom only lectured her.

He was grinning again. “So come on, let’s go to the Hitching Post.”

“I don’t know. It’s past noon. Maybe I should just go back up to the resort.”

His grin faded. He blew out a breath. “Okay, Joss. what’s up with you?”

“I just… I feel low now, that’s all.”

“Why? A few minutes ago you seemed to be having a great time.”

“I was.”

“So what happened? You realized you were having too much fun?”

She opened her mouth to tell him how off-base he was, but then she saw that he might actually have a point. “I keep thinking I can’t just hang around in Montana doing nothing forever.”

“You’re right, but there’s no problem. You’re only hanging around in Montana doing nothing for another week. Then you can go back home and knock yourself out finding another job and a new apartment.”

Now she felt hurt. Really, her emotions were all over the map today. “How can you make a joke of it, Jace? It’s not a joke.”

“I know it’s not.” He said the words gently. And then he asked, “Are you bored?”

“No!” She wasn’t. Not in the least. “Are you kidding? I’m having a great time—or I was, just like you said, until a few minutes ago. And then, I don’t know, all at once I felt low and cranky.”

Jace stuffed his hands in his pockets. And then he just stood there next to the glass-topped, café-curtained door of the closed restaurant, watching her, waiting.

She busted herself. “Okay, my life’s a mess. And right now, I feel guilty about it. I mean, at least up at the resort I’m busy being defiant, you know? Having my un-honeymoon, hating all men. But here, with you…” She didn’t know quite how to explain it.

Jace did it for her. “Here, with me, you’re having a good time. And you don’t feel you have the right to have a good time. And not only are you having a good time when you don’t have the right to, but you’re also having it with a man.” He widened his eyes and spoke in a spooky half whisper. “A man you just met… yesterday.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or punch him in the arm. Then he put on a look of pretend disapproval. “Face it, Joss. Your mother would never approve.”

“This is not about my mother.” She said it with way too much heat. “And I really, well, I just want to go back to the resort now. Please.”

He gave her a long look. And then he nodded. “All right, but would you do one little favor for me first?”

She resisted the sudden need to tap her foot. “Fine. What?”

“The Town Square’s back there about two blocks. It’s that small park we passed after we left the bakery?”

“I remember it. What about it?”

“We’ll stop there, sit on a bench under a tree and talk a little bit more. And then I’ll take you back up Thunder Mountain.”

She folded her arms across her middle and looked at him sideways. “Talk about what?”

“I don’t know. The weather, the Dallas Cowboys, the meaning of life…”

“Oh, very funny.”

“We’ll just talk, that’s all, about whatever subject pops into our heads. And not for long, I promise. Half an hour, max. Then it’s back to the resort for you.”

She accused, “I know you’re going to try and make me feel better about everything. Don’t deny it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of denying it. Yes, Jocelyn Marie, the ugly truth is I am going to try and make you feel better. That is my evil plan. So what do you say? The Town Square? A measly little half hour of your time?”

He didn’t wait for her answer, but only reached for her hand again.

The little park was a lovely, grassy, tree-shaded place. They found a bench under a willow, the drooping branches like a veil, hiding them from the rest of the world.

“Nice, huh?” he asked her, after brushing a few leaves off the bench seat and gallantly gesturing for her to sit first. She did, smoothing her skirt under her, crossing her legs and folding her hands around her knee. He dropped down next to her. “Kind of private. If we whisper, no one will even know we’re here.”

She laughed. He really was so charming. “How old are you, ten?”

“Only at heart. Tell me a secret.”

She gave him a deadpan stare. “You first.”

He thought it over, shrugged. “Once I kissed a toad.”

“Eeww. Why?”

“Jackson dared me. He was always a troublemaker. And I was his second banana, you know? He would come up with these wild-ass ideas and I felt honor-bound to go along. But then, somehow, if there was something gross involved, he would always manage to get me to go first. Then he would mock me. Once I kissed the toad, he told me I was going to get warts on my lips.”

“Oh, that’s just mean.”

“He could be, yeah. But he’s also… the best, you know?”

“How?”

“He’d take a bullet for me. For anyone in the family. That’s how he is. You can count on him. Even in the old days, when you never knew what stunt he was going to pull next, you always knew he had your back.”

“So you’re saying he’s settled down, then—from the days when he made you kiss that toad?”

Jace nodded. “He was the bad boy of the family. He drank too much and he chased women and he swore that no female was ever going to hogtie him. But then he met Laila. She changed his tune right quick. Now he’s got a ring on his finger and contentment in his heart. I’ve never seen him as happy as he is now.” He studied her face. His gaze was warm. She thought how she was kind of glad he’d insisted they come here before he took her back up the mountain, how being with him really did lift her spirits. “Your turn,” he said. “Cough up that secret.”

“I always wanted to get married,” she heard herself say. “Ever since I was little. I wanted… a real family. I wanted the family I never had. A man I could love and trust. Several kids. Growing up, it was always so quiet at home, with just my mom and me. My mom likes things tidy. I learned early to clean up after myself. So our small house was neat and orderly, with a hushed kind of feeling about it. I dreamed of one of those big, old Craftsman-style houses, with the pillars in front and the wide, deep front porch—you know the kind?”

“I do.”

“I dreamed of bikes on their sides on the front lawn, of toys all over the living room floor, of spilled milk and crayon drawings scrawled in bright colors on the walls, because the children who lived there were rambunctious and adventurous and couldn’t resist a whole wall to color on. I dreamed of a bunch of laughing, crying, screaming, chattering kids, everybody talking over everybody else, of music on the stereo and the TV on too loud. And I saw myself in the middle of all of it, loving every minute of it. Me, the Mom. And I saw my husband coming in the door and stepping over the scattered toys to take me in his arms after a hard day’s work. I pictured him kissing me, a real, hot, toe-curling kiss, the kind that would make our older kids groan and tell us to get a room.”

“Wow,” he said. “That’s a lot better secret than kissing a toad.”

A leaf drifted down into her lap. She brushed it away and confessed, “I always felt guilty about my dream for my life, you know? My mom did the best she could. But all I wanted was to grow up and get out of there, to find my steady, patient, good-natured guy and start having a whole bunch of rowdy kids.”

“Joss.” He touched her hair again, so lightly, guiding a hank of it back over her shoulder. “I’m beginning to think there is altogether too much guilt going on in your head.”

“Yeah, probably. But my mom tried so hard, she worked so hard, to do right by me, to make a good life for me.”

“Just because you dreamed of a different way to be a mom doesn’t make your mom’s way bad.”

She gave a low chuckle. “You amaze me, you know that?”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“In a great way. When I met you I thought you were just another hot guy trying to get laid. But instead, you’re a shrink and a philosopher, with a little Mahatma Gandhi thrown in for good measure.”

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