When Darius Bravo Wants Something...

...he usually gets it. And the powerhouse CEO has wanted Ava Malloy since he was a Justice Creek High senior. Darius is already adored by one Malloy: Ava’s spirited daughter. Helping Sylvie and her local Blueberry troop build dollhouses for needy kids is a worthy cause that’s bringing him closer to the widowed single mom. Imagine his surprise when the usually unapproachable Ava starts flirting and making her romantic intentions crystal clear!

With one condition.

A holiday fling with the man Ava has always found irresistibly attractive is a thrilling way to ring in the New Year. She can’t promise Darius the future—one devastating heartbreak in a lifetime is enough. But Ava underestimates his staying power. And what about her own secret heart’s desire? A Bravo under the mistletoe and in her arms forever!

“Tonight,” he whispered. “Eight o’clock.”

She should have done what she always did when he pretended to put a move on her—given a shake of her head, stepped away, maybe let out a little chuckle of mingled amusement and annoyance. It was only a silly game between them and they’d been playing it the same way for months now, ever since she’d begun working with Bravo Construction, made friends with his sisters and started getting invited to Bravo family gatherings. They did this all the time and it didn’t mean a thing. All she had to do was stick with the program.

Shake your head. Move away. Her mind told her what to do, but her body and her heart weren’t listening. She had so much yearning all bunched up and burning inside her. The yearning had her hesitating, frozen on the brink of a dangerous emotional cliff.

Maybe it was her crazy Christmas-fling fantasy. Or his sweetness with the girls. It might have been loneliness stirred up and aching from too many years of self-control and strict self-denial.

Or maybe it was simply the perfect manly scent of him, the low, rough sound of his voice that had haunted her as a teenager and now, as a grown woman, stirred her way more than she ought to allow.

Whatever it was that finally pushed her over the edge of the cliff, she went. She fell. She turned her head back toward him behind her and whispered so low he probably shouldn’t have been able to hear it. “Great. See you then. I’ll be naked.”

* * *

THE BRAVOS OF JUSTICE CREEK:

Where bold hearts collide under Western skies

Dear Reader,

Merry Christmas! And welcome to Justice Creek, Colorado, where Realtor Ava Malloy wants just one special gift this year.

A widowed single mom, Ava has vowed never to suffer the pain of loving and losing again. But a little passion in her life? Yes, please!

Ava wants a man for Christmas. Someone hot and sweet and secret. And temporary. As in over and done by January 1.

Hunky CEO Darius Bravo has never settled down. He’s also been flirting with Ava since high school. This holiday season, he’s let himself get roped into helping out with a special Christmas project. For the past six weeks, he’s been working with the local Blueberry Troop, supervising ten six- to eight-year-old girls, including Ava’s daughter, Sylvie, as they assemble, paint and furnish five kit dollhouses for children in need.

Turns out, Darius is wonderful with kids. Sylvie adores him. And Ava can’t take her eyes off him. Could Darius be just the guy to help her live out her secret Christmas fantasy—or is this Bravo bachelor way more than she bargained for? All too soon, she’s wondering how she’s going to make herself turn and walk away on New Year’s Day.

I hope you enjoy Darius and Ava’s story—and all my best to you and yours this holiday season.

A Bravo for Christmas

Christine Rimmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHRISTINE RIMMER came to her profession the long way around. She tried everything from acting to teaching to telephone sales. Now 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 lives with her family in Oregon. Visit her at www.christinerimmer.com.

For MSR.

Always.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The girls had been decorating Darius again.

Ava Malloy entered the Blueberry troop clubhouse to find him surrounded by ten laughing Blueberries, ages six through eight. He wore jeans, boots and a thermal work shirt. The girls had added a pink paper crown dusted with glitter, an oversize pair of red cat’s-eye glasses and a giant purple pop bead necklace. And someone had tied a length of rumpled blue velvet around his neck—for a cape or possibly a royal robe.

Ava’s seven-year-old daughter, Sylvie, caught sight of Ava at the door and crowed, “Mommy, look! Darius is king of the Blueberries!” as the other girls giggled and clapped.

Ava played along and sketched a bow. “Your Majesty.”

Darius was already looking her way. He did that a lot—watched her. Teased her. The man was born a shameless flirt. At her greeting, he lifted a dark eyebrow and returned a slow, regal nod that caused his paper crown to dip precariously near one gleaming blue eye.

He should have looked ridiculous. But no. Somehow, glittery paper crowns, tattered velvet capes and giant toy necklaces only made Darius Bravo seem more manly.

And he was so good with the girls. Ava hadn’t expected that. She’d known him since high school, and he’d been with lots of women. He’d never settled down with any of them, though, never started a family. She’d always assumed that kids didn’t interest him.

Yet somehow, he’d let himself get roped into helping out with the Blueberry Christmas project this year. For the last six weeks, he’d been supervising the troop as they assembled, painted and furnished five kit dollhouses for five local children’s charities. He’d done most of the work, while at the same time managing to get each girl involved in a constructive way.

So yeah. Darius was hot and charming and he had a way with children. Ava’s Sylvie adored him. And that made Ava like him more, made her more susceptible to the teasing glances he lavished on her and the jokingly suggestive things he said.

For so long, she’d considered herself totally over whatever had made him so tempting to her in high school. Now she feared she might be coming down with a slight crush on the guy all over again. She might even have fantasized about him once or twice.

Or a lot.

And so what? She needed her fantasies. When it came to romance and passion and sex, fantasies were all she had.

And no, she didn’t feel sorry for herself because she didn’t have a man. Ava didn’t want another relationship. She’d loved Craig Malloy and lost him, had the medals and the folded flag to prove it. Six years after the casualty notification officer knocked on her door, grief at Craig’s passing still haunted her. It wasn’t the clawing agony it used to be. However, it was bad enough that she didn’t want to get serious with any guy. Not yet. Maybe never.

But was it so wrong to yearn for a little magic and passion? Ava wanted the shivery thrill of a hot kiss, the glory of a tender touch.

To put it bluntly, she would love to get laid.

A man for Christmas. Was that too much to ask? A lovely holiday fling. Yeah. That would work perfectly for her. No strings attached—and over and done by New Year’s Day. Scratch where it itched.

And move on. To her, that sounded just perfect. But she had a daughter to raise and a demanding real estate business to run. Somehow, she never found the time to track down the right no-strings lover.

The door opened behind her, letting in a gust of icy November air. Chloe Bravo, one of Darius’s sisters-in-law, slipped through. “Hey, Ava.”

Ava dismissed her absurd Christmas-fling fantasy and smiled at Chloe, whose six-year-old stepdaughter, Annabelle, was also a Blueberry and Sylvie’s best friend. Leaning close to Chloe, Ava asked softly, “How are we doing for Saturday?”

Chloe was tall, blonde and drop-dead gorgeous. She and Ava both worked with Bravo Construction, which was owned and run by two of Darius’s half siblings, Garrett and Nell. “I’m still waiting to firm up the delivery on a sofa, two bedroom suites and most of the wall and table decor.” An interior designer, Chloe was staging a Bravo-built home for the open house Ava would be holding on the weekend.

Ava pulled Chloe to the side of the mudroom/entry area, away from the laughing Blueberries and their blue-eyed king. “You know I’ll help when it comes to the crunch.”

Chloe removed her bright red beanie and shook off a light dusting of snow. “Thank you. There’s way too much going on. Thanksgiving’s in three days, and then there’s Black Friday. I may have to skip the family shopping trip if I want to get it all pulled together by Saturday.”

“You can’t miss that.” The Black Friday shopping trip was a Bravo family tradition. The Bravo women got up at three in the morning and caravanned to Denver. “Just give me your design plans at dinner on Thursday.” Ava and Sylvie were having Thanksgiving with the Bravos this year. “I’ll go in first thing Friday morning and set up whatever you didn’t get to. Then you can come by after the trip to Denver and double-check that it’s all ready to go.”

“I couldn’t. You have enough on your plate—and aren’t you going to Denver?”

“Stop.” Grinning, Ava shook her head. “I know you really want to go. I’ll take care of the last-minute stuff, no problem.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

Chloe beamed. “You’re a lifesaver. And I owe you.”

“All right, everyone.” Out in the main area of the clubhouse, Janice Hayes, the troop leader, clapped her hands lightly for attention. “Moms and dads are arriving. Let’s get everything picked up and put away.”

Laughing and chattering, the girls set to work stuffing their cubbies and cleaning up their supplies and tools. Darius shrugged out of his regal finery and enlisted the aid of a few moms to help him move the five fully assembled dollhouses back to their assigned spots along one wall.

Ava helped, too. She put away paints and craft supplies.

Then Janice waved a bright pink clipboard for attention again. “We have three weeks until the Holiday Ball.” The dollhouses would go on display in the ballroom lobby during the annual Haltersham Hotel Holiday Ball. After the ball, the dollhouses would be given to five different centers for disadvantaged or seriously ill children in the Justice Creek area.

“It may seem like plenty of time, but there’s still a lot of painting, furnishing and accessorizing to do. And we all know how it is at the holidays. Everyone’s busy and things get away from us. Anyone who can put in a few hours next week or the week after, let me know. I’m working out a schedule.” Hands went up. Janice jotted down names and times as daughters and parents volunteered.

In the buzz of activity, Ava had almost forgotten the Blueberry king. But then, there he was, moving in just behind her left shoulder. She felt the air stir with his heat. His wonderful scent of leather, sawdust and soap tried to seduce her.

A shiver of yearning lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.

And all at once, she was fifteen again, turning from her hall locker, worn backpack sliding down one arm, to find him standing right behind her...

* * *

“Ava Janko.” He’d said her name that day like he was daring her to do something crazy and thrilling and probably dangerous.

He might have saved his breath.

Ava didn’t do dangerous, not ever again—not by choice, anyway. Her parents were dreamers. They’d always claimed they lived on love. The way Ava saw it, living on love just made you broke. Somebody had to consider the future, behave responsibly and remember to pay the rent. She was only fifteen, but she babysat, helped her aunt Rae clean houses and worked part-time at Deeliteful Donuts on Creekside Drive a few blocks from the family double-wide.

“Dare Bravo,” she replied, wrapping both arms around her backpack, using it as a lumpy, faded shield between them, a shield she really needed. Because those blue eyes burned into hers, and that too-full bottom lip of his made her wonder things she shouldn’t—like how it would feel to kiss him.

“Party Friday at Cal’s house.” Cal Flanders was a linebacker on the Justice Creek High football team. Everybody knew about the parties at Cal’s. His parents didn’t spend a lot of time at home. “Come with me. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Her heart did something really scary inside her chest—kind of froze, twisted and then rolled. For a second or two Yes tried to jump right out of her mouth.

But she didn’t let it.

Uh-uh. She tipped her chin higher. “No, thanks.”

Her refusal didn’t seem to faze him. “Why not?” he asked with a definite smirk.

So she lowered her voice to keep others from hearing and said, “Because you’re the rich-boy quarterback of the Justice Creek High football team who’s got a different cheerleader hanging on his arm every time I turn around—not to mention, I’m too young for you, and you know it, too.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and went on smirking. “You’re too young for me? What girl thinks like that?”

“A smart girl.” She clutched her backpack harder and refused to drop her gaze.

He leaned a little closer. “I know you like me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be keeping track of who I go with.” His minty breath touched her cheek, and longing burned through her—to be like every other girl her age and take a chance now and then, to flutter her eyelashes, to blush and smile and say she would love to go to that party at Cal’s.

But she had plans for her life, and they didn’t include ending up where she was right now—in a double-wide at the Seven Pines Mobile Home Park. He was too popular and too good-looking, and it wouldn’t last and she knew it. When it was over, he would move on to the next pretty girl, leaving her with her heart in tatters. She had no time for a battered, broken heart. She needed her focus on what mattered: a better life for herself.

She tried to explain. “It’s just...a bad idea. You’re nothing but trouble for a girl like me, Dare.”

He scoffed. “‘A girl like you.’ I don’t know what that means.”

“I already told you. I’m too young for you, and I’m from the south side of town.”

“I don’t care where you live. And I’m not asking for anything that’ll get either of us in trouble. I just want you to go to a party with me. You’re putting limits on yourself because you’re scared.”

He refused to understand. But why should he? He was a Bravo and he had it all.

Of course she put limits on herself. Limits protected her from making the kinds of bad choices that could mess up her life all over again. “I am not scared.” Her voice didn’t shake at all. “I have no reason to be. ’Cause I’m not going to Cal’s with you.”

He leaned in even closer. She should have jumped back. But her pride wouldn’t let her. “Liar,” he whispered. “You are scared.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m. Not. Scared.”

“Fine. Be that way. But someday you’re gonna say yes to me, Ava.”

To that, she set her shoulders and shook her head. Darius backed off then. He gave a low laugh, as though he knew things she didn’t have a clue about and now she would never find out what those things were. And finally, with an easy shrug of those sexy broad shoulders, he turned and walked away.

She heard a week later that he took Marilyn Lender, head of the cheerleading squad, to Cal’s party. Marilyn didn’t last long. Dare was with someone else by Homecoming. And someone else soon after that. He didn’t ask Ava out again, so she never got a chance to prove to him that he had it all wrong and she would never say yes to him.

And then that spring, he graduated and left town. She heard that he moved to Las Vegas for a while, of all things. And then to LA. Eventually, he returned to Colorado and got a business degree from CU. By the time he came back home to take over his father’s metal fabricating business, she’d married Craig and moved to San Diego.

Seventeen years had passed since those few moments by her locker at Justice Creek High.

And yet somehow, today, as Dare stood at her shoulder in the Blueberry clubhouse on the Monday before Thanksgiving, seventeen years ago felt way too much like yesterday.

He moved, bending closer. She knew what was coming: a teasing fake pass. She was right.

“Tonight,” he whispered. “Eight o’clock.”

She should have done what she always did when he pretended to put a move on her, given a shake of her head, stepped away, maybe let out a little chuckle of mingled amusement and annoyance. It was only a silly game between them, and they’d been playing it the same way for months now, ever since she’d begun working with Bravo Construction, made friends with his sisters and started getting invited to Bravo family gatherings. They did this all the time, and it didn’t mean a thing. All she had to do was stick with the program.

Shake your head. Move away. Her mind told her what to do, but her body and her heart weren’t listening. She had so much yearning all bunched up and burning inside her. The yearning had her hesitating, frozen on the brink of a dangerous emotional cliff.

Maybe it was her crazy Christmas-fling fantasy. Or his sweetness with the girls. It might have been loneliness stirred up and aching from too many years of self-control and strict self-denial.

Or maybe it was simply the perfect manly scent of him, the low, rough sound of his voice that had haunted her as a teenager and now, as a grown woman, stirred her way more than she ought to allow.

Whatever it was that finally pushed her over the edge of the cliff, she went. She fell. She turned her head back toward him behind her and whispered so low he probably shouldn’t have been able to hear it, “Great. See you then. I’ll be naked.”

Chapter Two

Darius heard her, no doubt about that.

She knew by the way his big body went dead still, by the sudden sharp intake of his breath.

Run away, run away fast! shouted the internal voice of smart, practical, everyday Ava, who knew better than to issue blatantly sexual invitations to a man she’d always promised herself she would never be foolish enough to fall into bed with.

But she didn’t run away. Not immediately.

Instead, she compounded her own idiocy by turning fully toward him and looking him straight in the eye.

He gaped back at her, his expression pure deer-in-the-headlights. Clearly, she’d surprised him.

And not in a good way.

So then. In spite of what he’d said seventeen years ago, the last thing he really wanted was for her to finally say yes to him.

Her heart beat a sick, limping rhythm under her ribs as she accepted the fact that she’d just made a complete fool of herself.

Dear God, please let me sink right through this floor this very instant.

But God didn’t come to her rescue and suck her beneath the surface of the earth. The world kept on turning. Behind her, Janice continued scheduling volunteers—and Dare Bravo stared at her like she’d just sprouted horns and a long, forked tail.

Behind her, Janice dismissed the group. “All right, everyone. Happy Thanksgiving. See you all next Monday.”

Ava wheeled and made a beeline for her daughter. She had Sylvie in her coat, wool hat and mittens in seconds flat. Then, with a cheerful wave and a “Happy Thanksgiving!” she got the hell out of there.

* * *

“I don’t see why you won’t come with us.” Kate Janko ate a bite of mashed potatoes and gazed reproachfully across the dinner table at Ava. “The weatherman’s promised no more snow until next week. The roads will be clear for the drive tomorrow. Ava sweetie, everyone will be there.” There was Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, where Ava’s parents, her brothers and their families would all be attending a big Janko family reunion over the coming Thanksgiving weekend.

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Ava said for the umpteenth time. “I’ve got a closing on Wednesday and an important open house on Saturday. It’s just not doable.”

“You work so hard, honey.” Her mother cast a wistful glance around Ava’s dining room, with its gorgeous built-in cabinets and art glass chandelier. Ava was proud of the cozy two-story bungalow she’d bought when she first returned to Justice Creek from California. It might not be large, but she’d restored it meticulously, keeping true to its Arts and Crafts style. “I just don’t see why you can’t take a few days off and be with your family for Thanksgiving.”

“Gramma, we just can’t,” Sylvie piped up. “We’re having Thanksgiving at Annabelle’s aunt Clara’s house. And then Saturday night, I’m going for a sleepover at Annabelle’s house.”

Kate frowned. “Aren’t you a little young for sleepovers?”

Sylvie puffed up her thin chest. “Annabelle’s too young ’cause she’s only six.” Every s had a soft, sweet little hiss to it. Sylvie had lost two front baby teeth, one in October and one just two weeks ago. “But I’m seven, and that is old enough.” She glanced Ava’s way. “Mommy said so. Right, Mommy?”

Ava hid a smile and gave her daughter a nod.

Kate opened her mouth to voice further objections. But Ava’s dad, Paul, put his hand over his wife’s. “Looks like our girls are staying home for Thanksgiving, Kitty Kat.”

Ava’s mother turned her hand over and gave her husband’s fingers a squeeze. They shared a glance both tender and fond. They still called the double-wide at Seven Pines home. And all you had to do was look at them together to know they still lived on love. “Well, I wish you would change your mind,” said Kate as Paul reluctantly took his hand back and both of them picked up their forks again.

“Sorry, Mom. But we just can’t get away.”

“We’ll miss you,” said her father.

“We’ll miss you, too,” Ava dutifully replied.

“May I please be ’scused till dessert?” asked Sylvie. “I ate everything, even my broccoli, and it was gross.”

Biting her lip to keep her expression appropriately serious, Ava turned to her daughter. “That you ate your broccoli is excellent. Broccoli is very good for you.”

“It doesn’t taste like it’s good for me. Chocolate tastes like it’s good for me.”

Ava bit her lip harder. Grandpa Paul made a faint choking sound as he tried not to laugh. Gramma Kate swatted him under the table.

Ava said, “Sylvie. What do you do when you don’t like the taste of your food?”

“I eat it or I don’t eat it,” Sylvie replied obediently. “If I don’t eat it, I don’t get dessert. But I’m not s’posed to say that I don’t like it because that is rude.”

“Very good. And saying that your broccoli is gross is the same as saying that you don’t like it.”

Sylvie wrinkled her nose but conceded, “Yeah. I guess so. I s’pose I am sorry.”

Ava nodded. “Excellent. You are excused. Clear off your place, please.”

Sylvie beamed a giant smile, displaying the wide gap where her baby teeth had been. She jumped up, grabbed her plate and trotted through the arch to the kitchen.

As soon as she was gone, Kate lowered her voice and asked, “Did you hear about Nick Yancy?”

Ava didn’t know Nick well. He was in his early twenties, a sweet cowboy and something of a star in the local rodeo. In the last few months, Nick and Jody Bravo, one of Darius’s half sisters, had become friends. Jody swore it was only that—friendship. But everyone thought Nick wanted it to be more, even though he was six or seven years younger than Jody.

And the bleak expression on her mom’s face alarmed her. “Did something happen to Nick?”

“Tractor accident,” said her father somberly.

“Oh, no. When?”

“They found him just this afternoon. The story is that a spring locking pin failed. He got crushed in a rollover. They rushed him to Justice Creek General but he died on the way.”

Ava pushed her plate away. “Now, that’s just all wrong.”

Her mom nodded. “He was a fine young man. They haven’t said yet when the service will be. I’m guessing this weekend sometime. We should be there.” Ava’s mom and dad had gone to school with Nick’s stepdad. “But we have the Idaho trip...”

Ava took the hint and volunteered, “I’ll go if I can possibly manage it.”

“That would be good.” Her dad reached across and patted her hand.

And her mom had tears in her eyes.

Nick Yancy, gone. Suddenly, that Ava had embarrassed herself with Darius Bravo didn’t matter in the least. A good man was lost. Life could be so cruel.

But then her mom said, “I saw that nice Ray Tucker at Safeway. He asked how you were doing.” Ray was a CPA now. Ava had gone out with him twice years ago, when they were both at Mountain High Junior College, before she married Craig. “I told him you were going great guns with the real estate, and he said to be sure to say hi to you.”

Ava knew where this was headed and didn’t like it in the least. She replied flatly, “If you see him again, tell him I said hi back.”

“He’s divorced now, you know. And I personally think he’s still carrying a torch for you.”

Ava leveled her sternest look on her mom. “Please don’t.”

“You should be dating. After what happened to poor Nick, it just brings it all home.”

“Mom, I know Nick Yancy was a great guy, and it’s awful that we’ve lost him so suddenly and so young. But it’s just wrong for you to use his dying as an excuse for your matchmaking.”

“I am not matchmaking.”

“Oh, yes you are.”

“I only meant that you never know what can happen, and you need to squeeze every drop of love and happiness from life while you can. Craig was a wonderful man, but it’s been six years and you’re still young, with so much to give. There’s no reason you can’t find a good man who—”

“Mom, can we just not go there tonight? Please.”

Her mother sighed and shared another meaningful glance with Ava’s dad. “I think you’re cheating yourself,” Kate said quietly at last.

“I’m very happy, Mom. I promise you. I have a brilliant, beautiful daughter, good friends and a loving family. I’m blessed with a fine house to live in. My business is booming. I don’t need a man to make my life complete.” As she spoke, she had a sudden, vivid image of Darius in his paper crown and pop beads. She felt her cheeks flame bright pink. Dear Lord, she would have to see him on Thursday at Clara’s house. How awkward was that going to be?

Better not to even think about it.

Her mother asked anxiously, “Honey, are you okay? You look a little feverish.”

“I’m perfect,” Ava said firmly, and she reminded herself yet again that what she’d said to Darius didn’t matter in the least. “Now, let me clear off. I’ll get the coffee going and dish up the apple pie à la mode.”

Her parents stayed until after Sylvie was in bed. As they went out the door, Ava pulled her mom back for a moment and pressed a check for six hundred dollars into her hand.

“Oh, honey. You don’t have to do that,” her mother protested softly.

“But I want to. Gas for the trip. And I know you’re going to send flowers for Nick Yancy from the family. This should help with that, too.” She’d been giving them money since she got her first babysitting job. At least now she could afford it. Back then, it had been tough to part with each and every one of those hard-earned dollars.

“You’re the best daughter I ever had,” said Kate, same as she always did when Ava helped her out a little.

And as always, Ava replied, “I’m your only daughter, so I’d better be the best.”

Kate grabbed her close for a hug. “Thanks, baby.”

“You’re welcome. Love you, Mom...”

* * *

Thanksgiving with the Bravos. It should have been great.

Ava had been looking forward to all the warmth and good times of a big family get-together—but minus her bossy brothers and her mother’s relentless attempts to get her to start dating again. However, no matter how often Ava lectured herself about keeping things in perspective, her own cringe-worthy behavior at the Blueberry troop clubhouse Monday afternoon had turned her anticipation to dread.

Through Tuesday and Wednesday and the first half of the big day itself, she kept up the internal pep talks. She told herself it was nothing. People said ridiculous things to each other all the time. She needed to get over it and move on.

And anyway, there would be a crowd at Clara’s. It should be easy to steer clear of Darius. Given time, they would both forget her over-the-top comeback to his silly, meaningless flirting.

She and Sylvie arrived at Clara and Dalton Ames’s house right on time at two.

Clara swung the door open, and the wonderful, savory smells of garlic, sage and roast turkey drifted out. She ushered Ava and Sylvie in and then enfolded each of them in a welcoming hug. “So good to see you.”

“You, too,” said Ava, admiring the garland of autumn leaves twined on the stair rail and the miniature pumpkins and gourds piled in a decorative bowl on the entry table. “Everything looks so festive, and dinner smells amazing.”

Judging by the laughter and chatter coming from the great room down the hall, the beautiful old Victorian was already packed with Bravos. Franklin Bravo, the family patriarch, had fathered nine children—four by his first wife, Sondra. And five more by his then-mistress and eventually his second wife, Willow. Of those nine Bravo siblings and half siblings, four were married now and three of those had children. All of them were expected for dinner today, so avoiding Darius should be no problem.

“Toss your coats on the bed in there,” Clara said, indicating the master bedroom off the front hall.

“Thanks.” Ava shrugged out of her coat.

She was just about to help Sylvie with the tie on her favorite red wool hat when her daughter cried, “Darius! We’re here!” and took off down the hall toward the tall, impossibly handsome man at the other end.

He wore a cream-colored sweater and black jeans, and even from the opposite end of the hallway, his eyes seemed bluer than usual. Damn him. Why did he have to be so good-looking? For a moment, she stared at him and he gazed back at her, and it was awful and wonderful, strange and exciting.

Sylvie skidded to a stop in front of him and wriggled in place, suddenly shy. “Hi.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Sylvie. Love your hat.”

“It’s red.” She pointed at the cluster of knit daisies over her left ear. “With flowers.”

“And very pretty.”

“Mommy ties it double for me so it won’t come undone.”

“Ah.” Darius shot Ava a glance full of humor—and something else that made her knees go weak.

“Would you please help me untie it?” Sylvie stretched her neck and pointed at the double-knotted bow.

“Let’s see here...” He dropped to a crouch in front of her and went right to work.

At the same time, the doorbell chimed and Clara turned to let in the next guest, her half sister Jody. Ava willed her pulse to slow the heck down and made herself stride over to where Dare knelt before her little girl.

Those big hands with their long, clever fingers made short work of the knot. He pulled one end of the bow, and it fell open. “There you go.”

Sylvie scooped off the hat, causing her caramel-colored hair to spark and crackle with static. She giggled, “I’m ’lectric!”

“You sure are.” Dare’s low chuckle set Ava’s nerves humming.

Sylvie stuck out her little hand and patted his rock-like shoulder. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome.” He rose as Annabelle Bravo, all plump cheeks, thick dark hair and big brown eyes, raced down from upstairs. With a quick wave at Ava, she reached the main floor and headed straight for her best friend. “Sylvie! Finally. Come on. Aunt Clara let me make a fort with blankets upstairs in a spare room. Kiera helped.” Kiera was Clara and Dalton’s toddler.

Sylvie shed her coat and handed it and the hat to Ava. “Can I, Mom?”

“Sure.” Annabelle already had Sylvie’s hand and was pulling her toward the stairs at a run. “Okay, you two,” Ava called after them. “No running in the house.”

Annabelle slowed. “Sorry, Ava.” The two girls giggled together and proceeded up the stairs at a slower pace, leaving Ava alone at that end of the hall with the one man she didn’t want to be anywhere near at the moment.

But then Clara and Jody, who had disappeared into the makeshift coatroom, emerged and came toward them.

Ava thought of poor Nick Yancy, Jody’s friend. “Jody! How are you?”

“Okay.” Jody didn’t look okay. Shadows rimmed her eyes, and her smile was forced.

Clara gave her half sister’s arm a fond pat and went on into the great room, while Ava wrapped Jody in a hug and whispered, “My mom told me about Nick. I’m so very sorry.”

Jody held on for an extra few seconds and admitted softly, “It’s awful. He was such a sweet guy. I still don’t really believe it...”

Ava murmured a few more soft condolences. She added, “I heard the funeral’s Sunday afternoon.” Her mom had called her yesterday with the information. “My parents know Nick’s stepdad, but they’re out of town for the holiday. I’m going to try to put in an appearance Sunday, represent the family...”

“That’s good of you, Ava. Nick and I had only been friends for a few months...” Jody’s voice trailed off as though she didn’t know quite what to say next.

Who did in a situation like this?

Ava took her by the shoulders and held her gaze. “If I can do anything. Anything.”

“Thanks. You’re a sweetheart.” Jody put on a smile.

Ava released her.

Jody moved on to Darius, who greeted her with open arms and a fond, “Hey, little sister...”

Ava saw her opportunity to escape him and grabbed it. She turned for the relative safety of the master suite—after all, she needed to stash the outerwear, didn’t she?

In the bedroom, she added the two coats and Sylvie’s red hat to the growing pile on the king-size bed. And then, stalling a little to give Darius time to wander back to the great room, she popped into the bathroom to smooth her hair and make sure she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth.

Her hair looked fine and her teeth were lipstick-free. But her eyes had a glazed sort of look and her face was flushed all the way down to the scoop neckline of her favorite cashmere sweater. Really, she needed to settle the heck down.

“Chill,” she whispered softly to her wild-eyed reflection. “Deep breaths.” She took her own advice, breathing slowly in and out through her nose, reminding herself that a good man had died on Monday and so what if she’d said something ridiculous to Darius. “Get over it. Move on.”

There was a soft tap on the door. “Ava? You all right?” Darius. Oh. My. God. Her face flamed anew. “Ava?”

She gulped to clear her clutching throat and called, “I’m great. Terrific.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“You sound strange.”

“Darius, I’m fine.”

“I’ll just wait here until you come out.”

She stifled a groan and glared at her reflection in the mirror and knew she had to stop being an idiot and open the damn door.

“Ava?”

She yanked it wide. “What?” she growled at him.

And he smiled that same slow, knowing smile he’d given her seventeen years ago right after he told her that someday she would say yes to him. “You look kind of flushed. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am fine. You can go.”

He didn’t budge. “About the other day, I—”

“Oh, please.” She waved her hand so wildly, she almost hit her nose with it. “You know that was nothing.”

“No.” He said it way too softly. “I don’t know that, Ava. In fact, I’m thinking it was definitely something.”

“And I’m telling you it wasn’t and you should forget it.”

He leaned closer, bringing that scent of leather and wood shavings and something else, too, something wonderfully manly that she couldn’t quite name. “Forget it?” he spoke softly, almost a whisper, his breath warm across her cheek and his eyes like the sky when night comes on. “You offered to be naked. There’s no way I’m forgetting that.”

Her heart felt like it would explode from her chest and splatter all over the room. Her pulse pounded loud and hard in her ears. How could she be so over-the-top about this? You’d think she was fifteen again, the way she was behaving.

She needed to cut it the hell out right now, start acting like an adult, for crying out loud. Drawing her shoulders back, she stared up at him defiantly and reminded him in a calm, even tone, “Look. This is stupid. Plus, it’s all your fault. I mean, you’re the one who’s always flirting with me.”

“So are you telling me you finally decided to flirt back?”

“Darius. Please. Can’t we just forget what I said?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s branded in my brain.” He said that with real feeling—after which he grinned a slow, lopsided grin. “And we need to talk about it. In depth. At length.”

How did he make that sound so dirty? She glared. “No, we don’t.”

He kept right on grinning. “Yes, we—”

“Is this bathroom taken?” The voice of old Levi Kenwright, grandfather-in-law to Dare’s brother James, cut him off. The old man came toward them from the door to the hallway.

“All yours.” Ava flashed Levi a giant smile, zipped around the old fellow on the side away from Darius and escaped out the open bedroom door.

She joined the others in the great room. Clara poured her a nice glass of Riesling, and they toasted the season. Then Chloe took her aside. They firmed up the open house staging she would be dealing with tomorrow.

An hour into the party, she went upstairs to check on the girls, who had taken over a guest room. They’d gathered a number of chairs from other rooms and draped blankets between them. Ava heard them giggling together inside the makeshift fort.

“Anybody in here?”

“Just us!” Sylvie answered.

Ava got down on all fours and stuck her head under the blankets to find Sylvie, Annabelle and little Kiera sitting in a circle pretending to drink from empty pink plastic teacups.

“How’re you girls doing?”

“We’re having a tea party,” Sylvie replied.

“Ava!” cried Kiera gleefully. “Hi there!”

“Hi, Kiera.”

Kiera made lip-smacking sounds, so Ava leaned closer, and the little sweetie pressed her lips against her cheek.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Annabelle sweetly.

“I would love one.” Ava crawled on in and joined their circle. Annabelle handed her a cup and a little plastic plate, and Ava proceeded to drink pretend tea and enjoy an imaginary cupcake. “Well,” she said, once she’d sipped and chewed for a couple of minutes. “That was delicious.” She pretended to blot her lips with an imaginary napkin. “And now, I must be on my way.” The fort was perfect for the three girls, but things got tight with a mom included.

“Bye-bye!” chirped Kiera brightly.

“Dinner soon,” Ava reminded them as she backed out the way she had come. “Don’t eat too many cupcakes.”

“Oh, Mom,” Sylvie scoffed. “They’re only ’maginary.”

“Well, all right then. Have as many as you like.” She emerged from the fort butt-first to find Darius leaning in the doorway to the upper hall.

Her heart did a silly forward roll, and her pulse went a little crazy. She shot to her feet. “This is getting ridiculous,” she muttered as she straightened her skirt and smoothed her sweater.

He didn’t say a word—probably because he knew if he spoke, the girls would hear him and demand that he crawl into their fort and have tea with them, too. Darius clearly had other plans. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm.

She should have jerked away, but she didn’t. It felt too delicious, his warm fingers pressing into her skin through her sweater, the little thrill of excitement skittering down the backs of her knees to have him so close, touching her. He pulled her from the room, and she went a lot more willingly than she should have.

“No,” he whispered for her ears alone once they were out in the upper hallway.

“No, what?”

“This isn’t ridiculous. This is fun.”

She almost giggled at that, which pretty much proved she was losing her mind.

“Come on,” he said.

“Where?”

“In here.” He ducked into the next bedroom, pulling her with him—and then shut the door. “Now. Where were we?”

She eased free of his grip and backed off a few paces. “I can’t believe I let you drag me in here.”

He folded those fine, hard arms across that broad chest and leaned back against the door. “Go out with me. Tomorrow night.”

“That is not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“No dating. Not in this town. Not with our families.”

“Ava. What’s wrong with our families?”

She didn’t even want to go into it. But he just stood there blocking the door, waiting for an explanation. So she gave in and provided one. “They’re all up in my business, that’s what. I’ve been out twice with nice men in the five years since I moved back to town. The first date was with a perfectly pleasant software designer. Afterward, all three of my brothers got me aside and told me I could do better. They’re so overprotective they make me want to scream. Then a year ago, I tried again, with another Realtor who has his office in the same building as mine. Your sister Nell saw us together. Later, there was endless discussion of if we would go out again and wasn’t it great that I was finally seeing someone? That was when it came to me.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go out with anyone. I like my life just as it is. I have the life I’ve always wanted, and I don’t need the hassle of going on dates and all that.” Was she overexplaining? Definitely. But now she couldn’t seem to stop. “And then there’s my mother...” Ava rolled her eyes so hard, she was lucky she didn’t fall over backward. “I don’t even want to get started on her. She’s a hopeless matchmaker.”

“Ava.” He said her name slowly, as though he enjoyed the way it tasted in his mouth. “You have to know that what you’re giving me here just sounds like a bunch of excuses for you not to have to take a chance with a guy.”

She really hated that he was pretty much right, so she dug up another objection. “Well, you have to know that my brother Tom hates you.” Tom used to work for Bravo Steelworks. It hadn’t ended well.

Dare studied his boots for a second or two, then glanced back up at her. “I wouldn’t say Tom hates me exactly.”

“But you have to admit he doesn’t like you very much.”

“Ava.” A weary little breath escaped him. “I don’t care what our families say. I don’t care what anyone says.”

“Well, I do care. I love them, all of them. Dearly. But they all think they know what’s good for me, and they simply don’t. I don’t want to go out because when I do, I never hear the end of it. So, well, if you and I were to, um, start seeing each other, I wouldn’t want anyone to know, okay?” She backed up and dropped to the edge of the bed behind her. “Actually, I would prefer it if you didn’t even know.”

A low chuckle escaped him. “You’re a difficult woman, you know that? You always have been.”

“Which only proves you should show some good sense and stop chasing me all over your sister’s house.”

“But I like chasing you.” God. The way he said that. Rough and low, with enough heat to make her feel she might burst into flame. He held her gaze for a long count of five. Electricity seemed to arc in the still air between them. “And I know you’re offering something. I just can’t figure out what it is.”

Her throat clutched when he said that, and she realized he was right. She did want to offer him something: herself. Just for the holidays, just between the two of them.

Was there any chance he would go for something like that—and if he would, did she really want to follow through on it?

As she considered the very real possibility that she’d lost her mind due to long-term sexual deprivation, Darius left off leaning on the door and came closer. She watched him approach, her skin all prickly with awareness, her breath coming a little too shallow and too fast.

The bed dipped slightly as he sat beside her. “All right,” he said. “If not dinner and a movie, then what?”

She turned her head, met his eyes—and put it right out there. “I just want a man for Christmas, okay? No strings, no dates, nobody else knowing about it. Just a Christmas fling. You, me and the holidays. And we’re over and done on January 1.”

Chapter Three

There was a moment that stretched into forever. Darius stared into her eyes. She knew he would look away any second.

But he never did.

She broke first with a low cry. “Oh, God.” She face-palmed, because what else could a girl do at a moment like this? “Is that tacky and awful?”

“Not awful in the least,” he said gently. Evenly. “Look at me, Ava.” He waited until she lifted her head and faced him again. “You’re on.”

As she gaped at him in equal parts wonder and disbelief, there was a tap on the door. “Dinner in five,” called a woman’s voice. Ava wasn’t sure who. And what did it matter who called them to dinner?

Nothing seemed real. She’d just made a deal with Darius Bravo to have a Christmas affair.

Darius called, “Be right out.” And footsteps sounded, moving away from the door. He asked, “You okay?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She made herself stand, though her knees felt like rubber bands.

Before she could turn and race to the door, he caught her hand. “We’re not finished here.”

She gave a slight tug, but he didn’t release her. Her skin felt on fire where he touched her. “I...have to check on Sylvie. Make sure her hands are washed before dinner.”

“I’ll help.”

A weak laugh escaped her. “Really. I can manage. Just...let me go.”

That did it. He released her, and she felt a sharp stab of regret as the connection broke.

Oh, she was a mess. She never should have told him her fantasy, never should have asked him to participate in it with her. Never should have even let him lead her into this room.

There were so many nevers running through her mind right now—starting with how she never should have said she’d be waiting for him naked.

Really, she didn’t like herself much at the moment. She was acting like the kind of woman she despised, one of those girls who crooked her finger at a man with one hand and showed him the flat of her palm with the other. A c’mere, c’mere—get away, get away kind of girl.

“Ava.”

“Mmm?”

“It’s going to be fine,” he promised. “Better than fine.” How could he possibly know that? “We’ll talk more later.”

She should tell him never mind, should speak up right now and say, Forget it. I lost my mind for a second there, but I’m all better now...

But then he instructed gently, “Go on. See about Sylvie.”

And she thought how he was a much better guy than she used to give him credit for, that he was not only killer-hot, but also tender, sweet and funny—and maybe she should have given him a chance all those years and years ago. Truly, if she wanted a man for the holidays and he wanted to be that man for her, well, why shouldn’t they both get what they wanted for Christmas this year?

“Go now,” he warned, teasing and low. “Or I’m coming with you.”

That did it. She turned and left him sitting there.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon and early evening went by without another word shared between her and Darius. They sat across and down from each other at the long dining room table, which was so packed with Bravos everyone had to be careful to tuck their elbows in close to their sides. The food was amazing. Clara put apples and chestnuts in the stuffing and a combination of spices that had everyone coming around for seconds and thirds.

Twice, Ava caught Dare watching her. But as soon as she met his eyes, he just smiled and looked away. She tried to forget about those moments in the upstairs bedroom, to put all that from her mind and enjoy Thanksgiving with the Bravos, but she kept zoning out during conversations.

Nell asked her twice if something was bothering her. Both times, she denied it.

The second time, Nell tossed her thick head of ginger hair and laughed. “Liar.” She leaned close. “I’m always a phone call away if you want to talk about it—whatever it is.”

Really, Ava was grateful to have a friend like Nell, who might be nosy and bossy, but who also really cared. “Thanks, Nell. You’re the best.”

During dessert, as they chowed down on absolutely perfect pumpkin pie with heavy dollops of freshly whipped cream, Elise Bravo announced her engagement to Jed Walsh, the world-famous thriller writer, who’d returned to Justice Creek the year before after almost twenty years away. Clara and Dalton brought out champagne, and Jed got up and made a really beautiful toast to his bride-to-be, one that had them all laughing through happy tears.

And finally, after the dessert was cleared away, most everyone lingered to visit a little longer. Dalton took Kiera off for her bath, and Sylvie and Annabelle played “Super Mario Kart” with Darius and Annabelle’s dad, Quinn. Then the two girls went back upstairs for more fun in their fort.

At eight, when Ava went up to tell Sylvie it was time to go home, she found them both sound asleep in the cave of blankets. Gently, she folded back the covers and gathered her daughter into her arms. Chloe appeared then, looking for Annabelle. They carried the girls back down.

Sylvie fussed as Ava coaxed her into her coat and hat and then went right back to sleep as soon as Ava picked her up again. Clara appeared, and Ava gave her a one-armed hug of thanks as she went out the door.

Outside, a light snow was falling. Ava tipped her head up to the dark sky and caught a snowflake on her tongue. She thought of Darius, and the strangest sort of calm settled over her.

Sylvie sighed in her arms. Ava gathered her closer and moved on to the car.

* * *

Half an hour later, just as she finished putting Sylvie to bed, her cell phone rang.

It was Darius. “Just checking to see that you got home all right.”

“We’re here. We’re fine.”

“You certainly are.”

She laughed. “I’m not even going to ask who gave you my number.”

“Like it’s a state secret. I think there’s a stack of your business cards at every restaurant and shop in town.” It was true. She left a trail of business cards wherever she went, and she’d acquired more than one customer because they’d grabbed her card at a checkout counter. “Okay.” All of a sudden, he sounded grim. “You’re too quiet. Don’t you dare back out on me, Ava.”

“I’m not.” She realized she meant it. The calm that had settled over her when she carried her daughter out Clara’s front door had followed her home. “No stalling, I promise. We’re making this happen.”

“Come out to my place.” He owned a beautiful piece of property a few miles from town—or at least, his sisters claimed it was beautiful. She’d never been there.

And she wasn’t ready to go there quite yet. “Tomorrow,” she said, without stopping to think it through. “I’m spending the morning finishing up the staging of a house for Chloe. It’s out at that new Starview development, a Bravo Construction house. You take Mountainview west and—”

“I know where it is. What time?”

She would be there good and early and hoped to have everything done by lunchtime. “Noon?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great—I mean, good. I mean...”

“Ava.” His voice was like raw honey dripping fresh from the comb.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Good. Perfect.” She heard a click on the line, and he was gone.

* * *

The next day, Sylvie’s sitter arrived at 8:30 a.m., so Ava got to the Starview house before nine.

Chloe had all the room plans uploaded to a private-access area of her website. She’d also come in early yesterday, unwrapped all the late-arriving stuff and had even gotten most of the furniture, art and accessories moved to the various rooms where each would be used. The beds, bureaus, larger tables and cabinets were all in place in each of the rooms.

And the three Christmas trees—one in the living room, one on the dining room sideboard and another in the family room—were up and fully decorated. Ava loved that Chloe had put such time and care into the Christmas stuff. Seasonal touches made potential buyers feel at home—and that was the whole point. Whoever finally bought this house had to experience it as the home they’d been looking for. Toward that end, Chloe had also provided acres of lighted garlands and some serious holiday table decor, which Ava would deal with today.

She turned up the heat a little, made a pot of coffee, plugged her old iPod into the dock Chloe had left on a side table and cranked up the Christmas tunes. Via her tablet, she accessed the room plans and got right to work.

By eleven thirty she had everything done. She stood in the beautiful living room with its giant Christmas tree that reached all the way to the vaulted ceiling and longed for a shower. Hanging pictures, draping garlands and moving chairs around was sweaty work. Her stomach growled with hunger.

And in half an hour, Darius would arrive to have sex with her.

Seriously, what had she been smoking to decide they should meet here and now?

She swiped a sweaty curl of hair off her forehead and pictured herself trying to seduce Darius all sticky from a hard morning’s work as her stomach rumbled, demanding lunch. What was up with her? Usually, she thought of everything. But today, she couldn’t even remember to bring a sandwich.

Her inexperience with casual sex was definitely showing. She had no time to go grab a burger or to run home for a quick shower.

Then again, she had hung gorgeous, thick designer towels in each of the bathrooms. And if, say, she was to pop into the shower for a quick rinse and then to use one of those pretty towels to dry off, she could easily take that towel home, run it through the washer and bring it back tomorrow with no one the wiser.

Ava headed for the master bath fast, before she had a chance to rethink the appropriateness of any of this. By ten of twelve, she’d cleaned up a little, wiped down the shower, primped her hair and makeup and carried the soggy towel out to her Suburban so she wouldn’t forget to take it home with her.

At a minute before noon, the doorbell rang.

Utterly breathless with her heart in her throat, she opened the door to him. He had a big white Dairy Queen bag and a box with two large soft drinks propped up in it. His face was freshly shaved, and he wore a shearling jean jacket over a gray sweater and a plaid shirt, blue jeans and lace-up work boots.

She couldn’t decide which looked better—him or that white Dairy Queen bag, which gave off the incomparable aroma of burgers and fries. “You brought lunch,” she whispered in wonder.

One wide shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “You said I wasn’t allowed to take you out, and I thought you might be hungry.” His breath plumed in the cold air.

“I’m starving.”

“Well, good then. Cheeseburgers, fries and two Cokes.”

“I worship you.”

He grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

She peered past his shoulder. “Where’s your F-150?” She stepped back to let him in.

He followed her to the open-plan kitchen. “You said no one could know. I thought, what if some random family member showed up and saw my truck? So I left it around the corner.”

“You’re clearly quite the expert at sneaking around.”

“That, I don’t like the sound of much.” At the breakfast nook table, he set down the bag and the box of drinks, hung his jacket on the back of a chair and sat down.

She took the chair across from him. “About the sneaking around, I meant it in the best possible way.”

“Right.” He tore open the bag and distributed the burgers and fries. She grabbed one of the sodas and had a long, lovely sip. “So good. Thank you.”

“Eat.”

So she did. For several delicious minutes, neither of them spoke as they demolished the food.

Eventually he remarked on the Christmas music and all the decorations. “Nice house. And definitely holiday ready.”

“Nell and Garrett build them right.”

“Yeah, they do.”

As her stomach had filled up, her jitters returned. She hardly knew what to say next. “So... You finished? Let me have all that.” She gathered up the remains of the meal and carried it to the black plastic bag of trash she’d put at the end of the island to take out with her when she left.

Her hands smelled of grilled meat and grease, so she washed them at the sink and dried them with a paper towel from the roll she’d brought with her. He got up and came to wash his hands, too.

She passed him a paper towel. As he dried, she laughed nervously and said, “Now all we need is a breath mint.”

He dipped a hand in his pocket and came out with a matched pair of candy-cane mints. “They were giving them out at the DQ.”

She took one, twisted the wrapper off and popped it in her mouth. He did the same. For a moment, they sucked in unison.

And then he reached out and touched the tip of her chin, a feather-light caress that she felt to the bottom of her soul. “You’re not getting freaked on me, are you, Ava?”

She tucked the mint into the side of her mouth and confessed, “Yeah. I am, a little. I guess I didn’t really think it all through. I mean, maybe this isn’t the best setting for the start of this thing we’re doing.”

“Now it’s a thing?” His mouth quirked at one corner. She wanted to rise up on tiptoe and kiss that faint smile, to trace that tempting bottom lip with her tongue.

Instead, she eased the mint back to the center of her mouth for a moment and sucked it some more. She had to tuck it into her cheek again before she said, “There aren’t even sheets on the beds. And it just feels wrong. Kind of shoddy, you know?”

“Shoddy. Interesting word choice.” He touched her hair. Her heartbeat ceased—and then started up again, heavy and deep. He ran his hand down the length of a curl and then rubbed the strands between his fingers. “Silky. I knew it would be. I always loved the color. Like summer wheat. And sunshine.”

It was a beautiful thing to say, and she wanted to surge up, wrap her arms around him and kiss him hard and deep. But a second ticked by and then another, and she lost her nerve. She ended up blurting out, “I’m, um, on contraception. The shots.”

“Ah.”

“And I can’t believe I forgot to bring a sandwich, but I did remember to bring condoms.”

“Did you, now?” His eyes were a swirling combination of blues, like a whirlpool out in the middle of the ocean that could suck a girl down so very deep she might never find her way up to the surface again. He let go of her hair and then touched her left temple with his fingertips. Her skin heated. Burned. He pushed his fingers close to her scalp and then combed them downward, gently parting the long strands as he went.

A tiny gasp escaped her. “They’re in my purse. A whole box.” He cradled her chin, tipping it higher. Inside, everything was shivering and burning at once. She felt a definite heaviness down low, a longing so sharp, so immeasurably sweet. “Which is silly, right?”

He scanned her face as though memorizing her. “A whole box, you mean?”

“Mmm-hmm. Because there is no way we’re going to use a whole...” Words deserted her as his mouth covered hers.

Holy cannoli. His mouth was so soft, just as she’d always known it would be. Soft and pliant, that bottom lip like a pillow. She gave it a little bite, because she’d always wanted to bite him there and at last she could. He made a lovely, low groaning sound in response.

And seriously, now. Who knew a kiss could feel this good?

For the longest, loveliest time, they just stood there at the sink with their lips locked together.

Now, this was more like it. This was just what she needed. Dare Bravo for Christmas, delivering endless, candy-cane-flavored kisses, his big hands cradling her head, stroking her hair as “White Christmas” played from the dock in the living room. He sucked her mint into his mouth. She let it go without regret.

And then, still kissing her, he started moving. Dazed and delighted, she went where he guided her, backward, step by step, until she met the wall. He didn’t stop there. Oh, no. Not Darius.

He kept on kissing her, moving in even closer, so their bodies touched, front to front, his so wonderfully big and hot and hard as he pressed her to the wall. She could feel his erection against her belly.

Wow. Just...wow.

It was happening. Finally happening, after way too many years. And with Darius, of all people. He kissed her so long and intensely and well that she didn’t even care anymore that they were doing this in the perfectly staged home she would try to sell tomorrow.

And then those warm, knowing fingers of his strayed downward. He had the hem of her shirt in his hands, and he was sliding it upward. For the first time, the kiss broke.

But only long enough for him to take that shirt over her head and away. She felt the air of the room against her bare skin, and she almost got nervous.

“Shh,” he said, moving in good and tight again. “Kiss me.”

And she did, meeting his lips once more, drinking him in. She took his tongue into her mouth and wrapped hers around it as he went to work on her bra. Those knowing fingers skated lightly around between her back and the wall.

The clasp gave way.

She gasped in excitement and delight.

He went on kissing her as he slid the straps down her arms, so easily, smoothly, one and then the other, his fingers trailing along her skin, causing lovely little shivers to bloom wherever he touched her. He guided her hands down to her sides.

And then he eased a naughty finger between their bodies and unhooked the center gore of her bra, pulling it downward. The bra slid away, leaving her bare from the waist up.

He cupped her left breast. She moaned into his mouth as her nipple pressed into the hot center of his big palm. Had she ever been this turned on in all of her thirty-two years?

As her dazed, acutely aroused brain tried to ponder that question, a car door slammed outside.

The kiss broke. Her eyes popped open to meet his. They stared at each other. She wondered distantly if her mouth was as red and swollen as his.

Another door shut. Faintly, she heard voices. Feminine voices. She recognized Nell’s throaty laugh and put it together: his sisters must have come home early from Denver. Any second now, they would burst in the front door—and find her here in the model-home kitchen, half-naked with Darius.

Get moving. Put your shirt on. The voice in her head knew what to do. But she was immobilized by...

She had no idea what.

Disbelief, maybe. Embarrassment, definitely. And shock that she’d chosen such an unsuitable location for lovemaking in the first place and then managed to get caught in the act.

Or maybe it was simply the bizarre, dream-like quality of the moment. To be about to have sex with Darius Bravo after all these years—and have his sisters walk in on them.

Whatever the sudden irrational affliction that had her frozen in place unable to cover herself, it wasn’t contagious. Because Darius had no such problem.

He was a blur of purposeful movement.

First, he scooped her bra and shirt up off the floor. Tossing the shirt across his shoulder, he dealt with the bra, sliding the straps up her arms, reaching around behind her and hooking it up on the first try.

“Come on, now...” He spoke to her so gently, without a hint of annoyance or impatience.

She blinked again. He held her shirt ready. Numbly, she stuck her hands in the armholes, and he eased it over her head and smoothed it down into place.

What do you know? She was fully dressed again.

She heard the front door open. “Ava!” Chloe called from the foyer.

Darius bent close. His lips touched hers, so soft, tasting of peppermint. “You’ve got my number in your phone. Call me.” He breathed the words against her mouth, and then off he went.

Still leaning weakly against the kitchen wall, Ava watched him vanish down the short hall that led to the utility room and the four-car garage.

Chapter Four

“There you are!” Chloe led the group of women into the kitchen. “Everything looks terrific. You’re a lifesaver, Ava.”

Ava straightened her shirt, smoothed her hair and tried on a smile. “Already done shopping?”

“We’d had enough,” said Nell, “so we came to help out.”

“Believe it or not, I’m pretty much done. Where’s Jody?”

Elise shook her head. “She took a pass.”

Clara said, “I think she’s feeling down about poor Nick Yancy.” There were sympathetic noises all around.

And Nell was watching Ava much too closely. “You look kind of flushed. What have you been up to?”

Ava knew she shouldn’t say it. But she couldn’t resist. “Having sex with Darius.”

The kitchen went dead silent. Then everybody laughed. They all knew that he flirted with her shamelessly.

And that she never had sex with anyone.

* * *

That night, as soon as Sylvie was in bed, Ava sent Darius a text: Tomorrow night Sylvie has a sleepover at Annabelle’s. You available?

He answered a moment later: A text isn’t good enough. I want to hear your voice. Call me, Ava. Now.

Ava stared at the message on her phone. Her cheeks felt hot, and her core felt all melty. Who got turned on because a guy got bossy via text?

Apparently, she did. When the guy was Darius.

She made the call. “So, then? How about tomorrow night?”

“How’d it go after I left today?”

“It was fine.”

“Fine tells me nothing.”

She grinned to herself. “Well, Nell said I looked flushed and asked what was going on. So I told them I was having sex with you. And they all laughed because everyone knows that’s never gonna happen.”

“You’re bad,” he said, that voice of his in honey-dripping mode. “A bad, bad girl.”

That melty feeling down low got more so. “Tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night is good. Come out to my place. I’ll cook you dinner.”

“Dinner.” Was that wise? “I don’t know. Dinner’s a little too much like a date.”

“Ava. I have to tell you. You’re starting to make me feel cheap and used.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What? Only women can feel used? Because face it, you are using me.”

That gave her pause. After all, it was true. “I...well, I guess I kind of thought we were using each other...”

“Ava.” He said it gently, kindly. “I was only teasing you. Sometimes you take things way too seriously.”

Did she? Maybe so. And it really was very sweet of him, to offer to cook dinner. Plus, she’d always kind of wanted to see where he lived. “All right, dinner. Thank you. Seven?”

“Seven works.”

“What can I bring?”

“Nothing. Just you. See you then.”

She thought about that afternoon, the dizzying power in his kiss, the smooth, sexy way he’d half undressed her and then so swiftly covered her right back up again. Since she was a little girl and learned how precarious life could be, she’d been so careful to stay focused on the future, not to mess up and get distracted from what really mattered, which was to make a safe place in the world for herself and the ones she loved.

Was she messing up now, getting into this thing with Darius? “Dare, I...”

But he was already gone.

* * *

At the open house the next day, Ava served hot cider and Christmas cookies. She put the Christmas tunes on shuffle, and the house looked amazing.

Garrett, Nell and Chloe all stopped in to see how it was going.

And it was going very well, with potential buyers in and out all day and several couples talking about making offers. Bravo Construction had five other lots in that development. This house should go far toward getting them buyers for those properties, too.

Darius came by at a little after two. He ate a cookie and stayed out of the way as she chatted with potential customers.

She loved it, that he stopped in, loved pretending there was nothing going on between them, that nothing had changed, all while the awareness of the evening to come pressed in on her, making a rising feeling in her belly, putting a secret grin on her face.

It was exciting. Her doubts of last night didn’t trouble her at all today.

Now, she felt really young, and that was a whole new feeling for her. She’d never felt young. She’d always been goal-oriented and determined to wrestle a little security out of life.

Well, she had security, finally, as much as anyone did. She had money in the bank, a college fund for Sylvie and a solid retirement plan. Her house was half paid for.

And for this Christmas season, with Darius, she could afford to feel like a girl again, to get all flushed and breathless, to have this secret sex thing between them. It made her smile to herself to think that nobody had a clue what would happen out at his place tonight.

Before he left, during a lull when there was no one in the house but the two of them, he pulled her into the master bathroom and shut the door.

“One kiss. And then I’ll go.”

She started to argue that she had a job to do and he was interfering with it, but why get on his case for something she wanted as much as he seemed to? So she tipped her face up to him, and his beautiful mouth came down on hers.

The kiss hollowed her out down low and left her wonderfully breathless. He tried to steal a second one.

But she put her fingers to his soft lips. “Tonight.” He sucked those fingers into his mouth and swirled his tongue around them. “You say I’m bad,” she accused.

He laughed then—and stole one more kiss before he let her go.

* * *

Dare’s house on the edge of the forest was two stories, the porch wide and welcoming, sided in natural wood shingles and stone. He was waiting on the step, wearing his usual jeans and boots and also a heavy red-and-black plaid jacket, the collar turned up against the cold. Apparently, he’d been sitting there for a while. The brim of his black cowboy hat held a dusting of snow. A floppy-eared white dog sat beside him.

Ava stopped the Suburban in front of the porch, and he rose and came down the steps to her, pulling open her door and leaning into her, bringing the sharp, cold scent of snow and a hint of evergreen. “You made it.” She nodded, feeling strangely shy and way too excited at the prospect of the evening ahead. “This is Daisy.” The dog, who’d come to sit a few feet away, cocked an ear at Ava.

“Hello, Daisy.”

“Now you can come meet my horses,” he said.

She grabbed her wool beanie off the passenger seat and put it on, then took his offered hand. His fingers were surprisingly warm as he helped her down to the snowy ground.

Gathering her coat a little closer around her, she went where he led, across a cleared space, past a faded red barn to a stretch of paddock fence.

The horses spotted them and trotted over—three of them, a white mare and two geldings, one black, one a bay. “Josie, Clem and Sweet Sam, meet Ava.” They greeted her with soft snuffling sounds. Dare had three small half-withered apples in his pockets. “Here. They’ll love you forever.” He passed them to her, and she gave each horse a treat.

Then she bent to pet Daisy, who’d followed them from the car. “In school, you always seemed like a guy who’d go to Yale,” she said. “Preppy, you know? And a jock. I never made you for a cowboy.”

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet again. “I’ve got three horses and a barn, but I wouldn’t say I qualify as a cowboy.”

She thought about kissing him and felt shy all over again. “What about the hat?”

He tipped the snowy brim at her. “The hat, least of all—and in high school I didn’t know what I wanted, really. Now I do. I like horses, and I like a place with lots of trees. And I have a workshop in the basement. I do some mediocre carpentry when I have the time.” He pointed off across the paddock. “I own twenty acres, most of it forest.”

“It’s a lot to manage, isn’t it—I mean, what with running Bravo Steelworks, too?”

“I have help. His name is Corky. He lives in what used to be the foreman’s cottage, on the far side of the barn. Corky does most of the cowboying around here. He works with the horses, mends the fence and takes care of Daisy when I’m not around.”

“Sylvie would love it here.” The words kind of slipped out, and she regretted them instantly.

“Bring Sylvie next time.”

She stared off toward the barn. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not a good idea. This is supposed to be a secret, remember? And it ends with the New Year.”

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