# The Hottest Ticket in Town

Kimberly Van Meter

He had a ticket…to her bed!Country music star Laci McCall is on the run. Away from her punishing tour schedule and her pushy manager. Away from the exhaustion. All she wants is to escape to her home-away-from-home in Woodsville, Kentucky. But there's a small problem–her bed at the Bradford Ranch is occupied by a damnably hot country boy…her first love.Kane Dalton is overwhelmed by the fierce lust he'd long thought gone, and feelings he's tried to forget. He walked away from Laci once–a second time would damn near kill him. Now they have only a small, stolen moment together. Enough to surrender to that lightning-hot electricity once more. Enough to shake them to their cores…before reality crashes in and reminds them that their two worlds were never meant to collide.

He had a ticket...to her bed!

Country music star Laci McCall is on the run. Away from her punishing tour schedule and her pushy manager. Away from the exhaustion. All she wants is to escape to her home-away-from-home in Woodsville, Kentucky. But there’s a small problem—her bed at the Bradford Ranch is occupied by a damnably hot country boy...her first love.

Kane Dalton is overwhelmed by the fierce lust he’d long thought gone, and feelings he’s tried to forget. He walked away from Laci once—a second time would damn near kill him. Now they have only a small, stolen moment together. Enough to surrender to that lightning-hot electricity once more. Enough to shake them to their cores...before reality crashes in and reminds them that their two worlds were never meant to collide.

“A cold beer on a hot day is almost better than sex...”

“Then you’re not having the right kind of sex,” Laci countered with a mildly teasing grin.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, his gaze unreadable.

Was he going to kiss her? He had that look on his face as if he was going to bend her over and take her right there on the kitchen counter—and if she were being truthful, she wouldn’t lift a finger to stop him—but just as he crowded her personal space and she angled her lips to his, his chuckle broke the spell as he deposited his empty bottle in the trash bin behind her.

Drat. Way to get your hopes up, Laci.

“Why, Laci McCall...is that disappointment I see?” he murmured.

“Go wash up,” she told him. She didn’t want him thinking he had her figured out and twisted around his finger. If anyone was going to get twisted, it was Kane. She’d be sure of that.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kane said with an exaggerated drawl that sent arousal coursing through her body. Once he was out of the room, she let out her breath in a whoosh as she sagged against the sink for a minute to regain her bearings.

She’d plainly underestimated the raw, animal attraction still pulsing between her and Kane, even after all these years. Maybe it was stupid to share the same space together, even for a few days. It’d taken her a long time to get over Kane.

Maybe—if her reaction to him was any indication—she never had.

Dear Reader,

Whoa! The Hottest Ticket in Town is my first Blaze and I do believe it is smoking! I was a bit nervous jumping into the sexiest line in the Mills & Boon family, but I think I managed to pull it off, and I hope you agree. The love story between Laci McCall and Kane Dalton is my favorite kind—rekindled first love. I think first loves are the sweetest and the hottest of all kinds because everything is fresh and new.

The challenge is to rekindle that love when life has jaded you. For me—the hopeless romantic—the challenge is part of the journey that makes a rekindled first love...epic.

I hope you enjoy my first Blaze and I assure you, there will be more to come. In fact, Rian Dalton’s story is next!

Hearing from readers is a special joy. Please feel free to drop me a line via email through my website at kimberlyvanmeter.com or through snail mail at Kimberly Van Meter, PO BOX 2210, Oakdale, CA 95361.

Kimberly

The Hottest Ticket in Town

Kimberly Van Meter


www.millsandboon.co.uk

KIMBERLY VAN METER wrote her first book at sixteen and finally achieved publication in December 2006. She writes for the Mills & Boon Superromance, Blaze and Romantic Suspense lines. She and her husband of seventeen years have three children, three cats and always a houseful of friends, family and fun.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

[1]

LACI MCCALL WASN’T raised to cry—not even when it seemed the whole world was falling down...like this very moment.

“Get Laci some lemon water, now!” Trent Blackstone, her manager barked to a roadie when she wavered on her feet for just a blink of an eye. “You feeling good, honey? Sold-out crowd again. Memphis loves you, baby!”

That’s right, they were in Memphis. Two days ago, it was Charleston. Next week, it would be Atlanta. A brutal tour schedule was the mark of a successful artist, so she must be on top of the world, right? Yeah, sure. Top of the world.

“You all right, Laci?” Audrey, her makeup artist asked, pausing with her powder brush in midsweep. “You don’t look so good.”

“Last I checked, you’re not a doctor, Audrey,” Trent said, gesturing for Audrey to scoot. “She’s fine. It’s just prestage jitters, ain’t it, honey? The minute you hit that stage, you’re gonna shine, just like you always do. That’s why people come to a Laci McCall show...they all wanna hear that golden angel sing.” He looked sharply at the costume designer, who was fiddling with one of the million hand-sewn sequins on Laci’s costume and said, “Make sure it’s good and tight. The last time, she looked like she was dancing around in a burlap sack it was so loose.”

“It’s as tight as it’s gonna get,” Simone retorted, glaring at Trent. “If it were any tighter I’d have to pin it to her skin!”

Laci ignored the back-and-forth between Trent and Simone, secretly grateful that Simone wasn’t about to cinch her outfit another millimeter no matter how much Trent threatened to replace her with someone else.

“You sure you’re okay, Laci-girl?” Simone asked, worry lines creasing her expression. “I can let it out a hair if it’s too tight.”

“I’m good,” Laci assured her as she tried to take a deep breath but found it difficult. She forced a smile. “It’s fine. Beautiful, as always,” she assured Simone about the glittering costume that had left Simone’s fingers in tatters after hand sewing every single little twinkling piece of hardware onto the fine fabric. “Thank you.”

“See? She’s fine,” Trent said, and Simone, satisfied her masterpiece was going to withstand a full concert, sent a final glare Trent’s way and left. Trent didn’t like Simone and vice versa, but he recognized her talent, at the very least. Trent returned to Laci with an instant smile. “Honey, you’re a vision. There ain’t nobody out there in this world that can take the shine off you. That’s a fact. Now, get out there and give the people what they crave, darlin’!”

“Yes, sir,” Laci murmured with a brief smile as she mentally prepared for a grueling two-hour set. She was just tired. No, she was exhausted. She’d tried to ask Trent to slow the schedule, but every sold-out show seemed to propel him to a more ambitious schedule. Her head pounded with the jarring force of a hammer hitting an anvil, but she gritted her teeth and trained her gaze forward, gearing up for another show. Her people were out there. Her fans made her who she was and she couldn’t disappoint them. Without them, she was just a poor Southern girl with impossible dreams and a thirst for something bigger than anyone else in her world.

Buck up, little filly, you got this. The memory of her daddy’s voice lifted her spirits and gave her the boost she needed to forget the pain in her head, the exhaustion weighing down her limbs and the fact that her costume did indeed feel pinned onto her skin. Everything was beautiful; everything was right. This was where she belonged and by damn, she would give Memphis the show they’d never forget.

“Helllllooooo, Memphis!” she cried into her microphone headset, her arms stretched wide in welcome. The minute she stepped onto the stage, the crowd swelled with adoration as the resounding chant of her name filled her with momentary joy and she launched into her current number one hit, ‟You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere.” Her voice, the one thing about her that made her more than a pretty face, carried the sassy song and for a heartbeat, everything was fine. But then as she hit the high note, belting out her signature raspy growl, the edges of her vision clouded. The stage lights blazed like jet fuel on fire through her brain and the roar of the crowd overwhelmed her eardrums as the sensation that she was falling choked off her voice midset.

Noooooo!

The last thing she heard before she slipped into blissful unawareness was the faint din of complete and utter pandemonium.

* * *

KANE DALTON, CO-OWNER of Elite Protection Services, just finished hitting Send on a few important emails when his younger brother, Rian, blew into the office with a perplexed expression. “You’re going where?” he asked, gesturing to his phone. “Is this an April Fool’s thing, ’cause it ain’t funny. And if you are going where you say you’re going, who are you and where is my brother?”

“I see you got my text,” Kane said, sighing. “I’m catching a plane to Kentucky in about three hours. I’m just tying up loose ends. You good to hold down the fort for a few weeks?”

“No and hell no. You know I’m not the business guy in this operation—that’s your gig. Now, tell me why you’re heading to Kentucky, of all places?”

“Warren called. Cora needs some special medical treatment out of state and he doesn’t trust anyone else to watch the ranch while he’s gone. He said something about not liking the sheriff—calling him a no-good, rotten son of a bitch who’d probably put his own mama in the clink for jaywalking.” Rian arched his brow and Kane nodded as he continued, “Yeah, anyway, how could I refuse the guy? He’s like a grandfather to us. Besides, you’ve been telling me to take a vacation for months. Guess I’m cashing that chip in.”

“Aw, hell, Kane, I didn’t mean hightail it back to the worst place on the planet,” he grumbled. “If you look up Woodsville in the dictionary, it’s synonymous with hell—not exactly what I’d call a premier vacation spot for either one of us.”

“No argument there, but I’m not heading into town. I’m just gonna hold down the ranch, take care of the cattle and make sure no one comes around to mess with things.”

“And what am I supposed to do about that job you took on with that senator on his little vote-gathering tour?”

“I guess you’ll have to cover for me.” He grinned, knowing his brother hated gigs involving pampered, fat politicians who were more often than not leering at young interns and playing into the stereotype rather than doing anything of value with their lives. “Listen, I know it’s not supermodels and celebrities, but it’s a fairly straightforward gig. Watch the senator’s back while he goes on a handshaking, baby-hugging tour and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“Sounds like a real party,” Rian said sourly, then exhaled because he knew there was no getting out of it for either of them. “How’s Cora doin’?” he asked with appropriate concern. The old gal was special to both their hearts and even if it had been a while since they’d managed a visit, if she needed something, there was nothing they wouldn’t do to make it happen.

Kane didn’t have too much in the way of details, but his gut was singing off tune. “Must be pretty bad if Warren’s leaving the ranch to take her to this special place. He’d do anything for the old girl.”

Rian nodded in grim agreement. “Yeah, true enough. I feel like shit that we didn’t see them at Christmas last year.”

“Or the year before that,” Kane said, suffering a pinch of conscience, but Warren and Cora both knew the business kept them running ragged, which is why Kane knew he had to say yes. Warren never would’ve asked if it hadn’t been the only option.

“Hey, guess who I saw in the news last night,” Rian said, switching tracks, his expression turning serious. He didn’t wait for Kane to guess. “Laci.”

An iron gate swung shut inside his heart and he gave his brother a hard look. “Yeah? And? That matters to me why?”

“Stop acting like a hard-ass. I know you’re still carrying a torch for her. Shut up for a minute and I’ll tell you what I heard.”

“Yeah? So tell me.”

“She collapsed onstage last night at a concert in Memphis.”

Immediate alarm spiked and his muscles tensed even as he kept very still. “Is she okay?” he asked quietly, not sure he wanted to know. Laci was his Achilles’ heel, a weakness he had always done his best to protect by staying far away from her and her world.

“I don’t know. TMZ reported she collapsed in the middle of her number one single, and her PR machine is saying she suffered from food poisoning, but I don’t buy it.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“Certain circles travel together, you know how that goes. People are saying that she’s flat-out exhausted. Have you seen her tour schedule? It’s insane.”

“Is she okay, or not?” he growled, fighting the impulse to drive straight to Memphis to deliver a fist sandwich to whomever wasn’t doing their job and looking out for her.

“Yeah, I’m sure if she gets some rest she’ll be okay,” Rian answered, watching him with open speculation. Suddenly a knowing smirk curved his lips and Kane swore under his breath. Here it comes... “When you gonna admit that you still care for her?”

“When you gonna drop it? We were kids...a long time ago. Neither one of us are kids now. Got it?”

“Yeah, I get it—you’re in denial and have been since the day you cut her loose. But whatever. It’s your life, bro. I just thought you might like to know.”

Kane forced a chuckle, if only to get past the awful pinch in his chest, and said, “Aw, Ri, I never knew you were such a softie at your core.”

Rian scowled at Kane’s thinly veiled sarcasm and flipped him off. “I hope your plane goes down,” he shot over his shoulder as he headed out of the office, leaving Kane to deal with the burden of knowing that Laci was lying in some Memphis hospital bed.

Kane shook his head, hating that time hadn’t healed that particular wound or erased the bone-deep need to feel Laci shuddering in his arms, or hear her breathy sighs in his ear as he took total control of her body. Time was supposed to dull that edge, right? Yeah, so someone ought to let his brain in on that little fact. Maybe if his fantasies didn’t feature Laci, he’d get over her. Maybe. But it didn’t matter who he was with or even if he was alone, Laci was there.

Irritated at himself, Kane finished his to-do list, then closed up the office to pack for a trip he didn’t want to make. Woodsville, Kentucky—home of his miserable childhood and the keeper of his most private dreams. If it hadn’t been for summers at the Bradford ranch...he didn’t know where he and Rian might’ve ended up. Probably nowhere good.

Of all the things the Bradford ranch reminded him of—fresh corn bread and hot beans simmering in a cast-iron pot, corn on the cob and steaks big enough to satisfy the appetites of two growing young men—there was only one thing that ever jumped to mind when he thought of those blistering summer days and time hadn’t dulled those memories.

Sweet as seasonal rain and with curves for days, there were still times she invaded his dreams, leaving him rock hard, aching and reaching for a woman who was never meant to be his.

Kane physically shook himself from his reverie, appalled at his own mopey melancholy. When did he become such a sap? Apparently, Woodsville brought out the worst in him.

Well, one thing was for certain, no matter where Laci was...leaving her behind had been the best thing he could’ve ever done for her—and for himself.

So what if the scar remained tender to the touch. Everyone had scars. Some people just hid them better than others.

[2]

LACI OPENED BLEARY eyes to blink at her unfamiliar surroundings. Where was she? Disoriented, she struggled to sit up and discovered she was lying in a hospital bed and tethered to an IV. What the... And just as panic began to cloud her thinking, her memory returned with a flash and she realized she must’ve collapsed onstage.

Lifting her arm to stare at the plastic tubing delivering who knows what into her vein, she closed her eyes again, still too tired to truly process the ramifications of what’d happened. The lights, the sold-out arena, the total collapse. She should feel guilty but she didn’t. Did that make her a bad person? Her thoughts drifted on the tide of her bone-deep exhaustion and she would’ve sunk into blessed sleep if Trent’s voice hadn’t jarred her back into awareness.

“There she is.” Trent’s drawl made her jump and reluctantly open her eyes to focus on her manager as he came into the room with a big, relieved grin. “Thought you were gonna sleep the day away, honey. How you feelin’? That’s one helluva way to grab a little R&R, you know. You scared me, girl.”

A faint smile found her lips to humor Trent, but honestly, Trent was the last person she wanted to see right now. Of course, that uncharitable thought made her cringe with guilt. Trent was the reason she was on top, making millions and selling out shows. Her daddy had always warned her about biting the hand that was handing out the goods, but right about now she was feeling kind of snappy and she didn’t trust her mouth not to say something bad. Trent didn’t seem to notice, though.

“Girl, my heart just about fell out of my chest when you collapsed onstage,” Trent said, seeming genuinely concerned. “I wish I’d known just how puny you’d been feelin’. Girl, we gotta work on our communication skills,” he said, somehow turning it back on her. Hadn’t she told Trent a million times that she was exhausted? Maybe she hadn’t been entirely clear, she realized, feeling as if she’d not only let down her fans but the man who was making all her dreams possible.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured through numb lips. She rubbed at her mouth absently, wondering why the words tasted hollow. She was sorry, she truly was, for making a mess of things, but a part of her couldn’t muster the energy to give the emotion much more than lip service and she knew that was just ugly of her. Tears burned beneath her lids as she rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t realize just how tired I was, I guess.”

“Well, all’s well that ends well, I suppose,” Trent said, pushing a tendril of hair from her eyes with a tender touch. “Now what’s important is getting you back on your cute li’l feet, right?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “The docs are pushing all sorts of fluids into you, so you might be a little puffy for tomorrow’s show. I’ll have Simone give you a little extra room in your costumes, okay, sugar? No worries there.”

“Tomorrow?” Distress colored her voice. “What do you mean?”

“Darlin’, the show must go on, as they say. Docs have assured me that you’re right as rain, all you needed was a good night’s rest and so I went ahead and rebooked your canceled show. Get this,” he said, excited. “We’re even more booked than before. Seems collapsing is good for ticket sales. Who would’ve thought? Anyway, you just focus on getting some good shut-eye and then we’ll get you back on that stage where you belong.” Back onstage? Laci wanted to scream, but she nodded instead. Trent’s stare narrowed at her lackluster response. “Is there a problem?”

I’m not ready to go back onstage. I need a break. Can’t you see that? The words bubbled on her tongue and when she opened her mouth, she really thought she was going to push them out, but instead, something lame popped out. “I’m just wore out. I’ll be fine by tomorrow night,” she promised, and in that moment, she hated herself for being a weak caricature of who she used to be. Where was her spirit? Her fire? Laci McCall didn’t used to be such a pushover. Somewhere along the way she’d sacrificed that innate quality for fame and fortune and it felt just as sickening as it sounded in her head. And yet...she continued to nod and assure her manager that all was going to be all right. Pathetic.

Trent, mollified, chucked her chin gently the way he would a kid’s and smiled. “That’s my girl. Rest up, angel, we’re back on track tomorrow.”

Laci held her weak smile until he left the room, but as soon as the door closed behind him, she dropped the smile like a lead weight. She couldn’t take the stage. She just couldn’t. Not yet. She needed...hell, she didn’t know what she needed anymore. All she did know was that if she didn’t get away from Trent and all the trappings of fame, she was going to die.

A tear oozed from the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek.

“You okay?”

The memory of a boy, handsome as sin, with hair too long and a reluctant smile too sweet, invaded her thoughts.

Times were hard, she knew, but she hadn’t expected her daddy to drop her off and leave for the summer as he had. During the summer, her daddy logged in the high country to squirrel away cash for the harsh Kentucky winter. This time, he’d dropped her off with Cora and Warren Bradford, an older couple he’d known for a long time and apparently trusted with his only child. But damn it, her daddy needed her and it didn’t feel none too good to be left behind with strangers, even if they were nice folk.

The boy, a year older than her at sixteen, climbed the ladder to join her in the hayloft. His blue eyes were something else, almost too pretty for a boy, and when he flipped his dark hair out of his eyes as he dropped beside her, her breath caught. His name was Kane Dalton—he and his brother, Rian, were ranch hands for the Bradfords—and he set her heart to jammin’ like a bluegrass picker with a jug of moonshine.

He wiped at the tear on her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” she lied with a forced smile. “Just missing my daddy, I guess.”

“He seems like a good man,” Kane said, trying to soften the blow at being left behind. “At least he’s doing something to put food on the table. My old man couldn’t care less if his kids eat. All he cares about is where he’s getting his next drunk, you know?”

She nodded, realizing she was being whiny and selfish. She’d seen the bruises on Kane and Rian, knew that their home life was worse off than they liked anyone to know. Her daddy worked harder than anyone she knew just to keep them afloat and here she was crying like a slapped baby because he’d left her behind. She braved a smile for Kane, which wasn’t hard because he created sunshine in her soul, and asked playfully, “Kane Dalton, you always know just what to say. What’s your secret?”

The blue of his eyes darkened as he ducked his head briefly before returning to her gaze, nothing boylike in that stare as he answered with an honesty that rang in her soul like crashing bells. “No secret, Laci-girl. Just tellin’ it like it is. I would never lie to you, that’s the God’s honest truth. I never would.”

And then he kissed her.

Sweet, simple, perfect.

Laci opened her eyes, still lost in the reminiscence that’d come out of nowhere. The lingering scent of hay and summer heat remained lodged in her nostrils as the memory of her first kiss blazed through her thoughts and occupied every nook and cranny of her mind.

Kane Dalton.

Where are you, country boy?

The sting of loss pricked at her tender heart and she pushed away the feelings that came with the memory of Kane and those sweltering summers spent at the Bradford ranch together. He’d left her behind, up and went into the military without so much as a goodbye or an explanation of why. He couldn’t have sent a clearer message than if he’d tattooed it on her face that she was part of his past and definitely not part of his future.

Well, screw him. Why the hell was she thinking about Kane now? There were plenty of years between that heartache and today and she wasn’t going to drag herself down with the memory of that pain.

But one thing she did know—as she eased the IV needle from her arm with a wince—she wasn’t going to lie around in this bed a minute longer, just waiting for Trent to waltz back in and prop her up onstage again when she wasn’t ready to go back. Tossing the tubing aside, she kicked free from the white, sterile bedding and stood on wobbly feet to search out her clothes.

Oh, damn. Laci grimaced when she realized her glittering costume was all she had in the room, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from getting the hell out of Dodge for a while. Well, it is what it is, she thought, grabbing her costume and shimmying into it with a groan as it pinched and scratched. Bypassing her heels, she left her room, bold as you please, ignoring the concerned looks and puzzled glances from the nurses’ station, and walked right out the door.

[3]

KANE’S RENTED TRUCK kicked up dirt as he drove the familiar road to the Bradford ranch, breathing in the sweet smell of untamed earth and summer sun as a reluctant smile found his lips. He’d forgotten how good summer smelled in the South. There was something about the way a Kentucky summer reached into the soul and plucked a tune, even if he wasn’t open to listening. He hated Woodsville, but he had to admit, Kentucky was in his blood, even if he ran from it every single day of his life.

It was too easy to remember those wretched years as a boy, too young to avoid the beatings and too weak to prevent them, that made the breath catch in his throat and his shoulders tense. Dale Dalton was a rotten son of a bitch with a worse temper, and Kane hoped he was burning in hell for all the terror and misery he’d inflicted on his two sons. Frankly, Kane thought the old man had died too easy—a heart attack was too quick, over in a flash. Kane had been hoping for a slow, lingering cancer to eat Dale from the inside out, but no such luck. The lucky bastard had checked out with a single zap to the electrical system and it was lights out, sayonara.

The Bradford ranch came into view, an older ranch-style home with a generous wraparound porch and views of the green rolling hills and valleys carved by the river that snaked its way through Warren’s six-hundred-plus-acre property. Beech trees dotted the countryside and made for picturesque landscape, as well as created blessed shade that was much appreciated when the humidity was hard to escape.

He rolled to a stop in the driveway and walked into the house, calling for Warren or Cora as he went.

Cora, in the kitchen as always, smiled big and welcoming as she ushered him into her frail arms, hugging him as tightly as she was able. “You’ve lost too much weight,” she exclaimed as if she weren’t the one looking as if a stiff wind might knock her over. “Just look at you, you’re wasting away to nothing. You need to find a good woman who can fatten you up with some good ol’-fashioned home cooking.”

“I’m not the one wasting away,” he countered, concerned at how small and fragile Cora appeared since the last time he’d seen her two years ago. Sudden tears pricked his eyes and he blinked them back, unprepared for the emotional wallop at seeing Cora so diminished. “What’s the doc saying?”

Cora waved away his question and said, “No talk of doctors or medicine. I’ve had enough of that nonsense. I want to hear about you and Rian. How’s that fancy new business going for you? Tell me all about it while I cut up a piece of pie. Peach still your favorite?” She knew it was, the crafty old girl. He nodded and she beamed, pulling a freshly baked peach pie from the oven, where she’d probably hidden it from Warren. “Ice cream?”

“The pie is good for me,” he said, not wanting to put Cora into further motion on his account. Slaving away in the kitchen was the last place she needed to be, but he knew from experience that Cora took orders from no one, not even if it was to protect her declining health. He took a dutiful bite under her watchful eye and there was no need to fake a reaction because it was heaven on a fork. “God, Cora, this is the best damn pie I’ve ever tasted.”

She swatted him lightly on the head with a sharp “Watch your mouth,” but she smiled as she slid into the chair opposite him. “Glad you like it. Too bad Rian couldn’t come with you. I miss him just as much.”

“I know, but someone’s got to hold down the fort while I’m here,” he said regretfully, but after seeing Cora’s condition, he wondered if he ought to have Rian meet him there for when Cora and Warren returned from out of state. “Tell me about this special treatment you’re gonna have.”

Cora, her soft little hands wreathed with faint blue lines, fidgeted as she shrugged. “Warren’s got it in his head that it’s gonna make a difference, but sometimes you have to accept that when your time is up, it’s up. There’s grace in that, you know. But he wants me to go, so I will because he’s a good man and an even better husband, but I want to spend what time I have left right here on the ranch. I have my vegetable garden and the animals and that’s enough for me.”

Kane swallowed the sharp lump in his throat that clogged his airway. He’d known Cora and Warren since he was a mangy, starving fifteen-year-old looking for summer work, but they’d become his only family. If something happened to Cora...hell, he just couldn’t bear it. He understood Warren’s insistence to try anything, even if sounded crazy, if it meant Cora might pull through this medical nightmare. “Pardon my language, Miss Cora, but that’s bullshit. Don’t be giving up on a cure. If Warren thinks there’s a shot, you gotta take it because there’s no one on this planet who can make a blue-ribbon-quality peach pie like you, ma’am, and that’s the honest truth.”

It was more than the pie and Cora knew it, but it made her smile just the same and her smile was worth a million bucks in Kane’s opinion. He finished the pie like a good boy, even scraping up the crumbs, just as Warren walked in from the fields, covered in dirt and smelling like a pasture.

Kane rose respectfully and clasped the older man’s hand, relieved to find it strong as ever in spite of the fact that he was nearing eighty. “Kane, you’re looking good, boy,” Warren said, smiling. “Any trouble getting the time off?”

“No trouble, sir. Happy to help.”

Warren’s proud smile said volumes. “Good, good. It’s too bad we leave tonight. It would’ve been nice to catch up.” He stopped and sniffed the air, then spied the pie on the kitchen counter. “Peach pie! Where’d that come from?” His expression went from excited to distressed as he looked to Cora with concern. “You been in here making that pie while I was tending to the chores? Woman! Are you trying to kill yourself before we even get to Florida? The doc said you need to rest before the flight and here you are working yourself to death.”

“Oh, hush,” Cora said to her husband, shaking her head as if he was being a ninny. “Baking a pie isn’t hard, you just throw the stuff in a bowl, mix it up and toss it in the oven. A child could do it. Now stop pestering me and go show Kane what he’s supposed to be doing while we’re gone and I’ll have your slice ready for you when you get back.”

Warren looked torn between wanting to chastise her a little more and needing to do exactly what Cora said, but eventually the ticking clock won out as he grumbled, “C’mon, Kane, let’s get this done so’s we can hit the road. I don’t want to chance missing our plane.”

“Lead the way,” Kane said, casting a short wink at Cora before they headed out. The old girl was still running the roost, no matter what anyone said about her health. If anyone could beat cancer, it was Miss Cora—that much he knew. It was a small but vital comfort to his worried heart as he followed Warren out to the cattle barn.

“I know it was hard for you to drop everything and come, but I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important,” Warren started once they were clear of the house. “She’s not doing so good and I’m not gonna sit by and watch her die without a fight.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kane said, shifting against the pinch of guilt for staying away for too long. “I should’ve been more helpful from the start. Why didn’t you tell me that Miss Cora was so bad off?”

“Troubles are private, son. No sense in burdening others with something they can’t fix,” Warren answered with quiet pride. “Besides, you have your own life to run. How’s that going?”

“Good.”

Warren grunted, accepting the one-word answer. “You ever hear from Laci?”

“No, sir. Not since we were kids.”

“That’s too bad. She was a good girl. I seen her on the television the other day. She always did have a pretty voice to go with that pretty face. She calls now and then, but with her schedule, it’s hard to break away, being famous and all that.”

Kane grunted as if agreeing, but he didn’t want to talk about Laci or speculate about her celebrity lifestyle. Warren sensed his discomfort and obliged him by switching tracks, moving to the list of chores that needed to be done to keep the ranch moving while they were gone. It was like riding a bike and, by the time Warren was done, it was dark and time to call it an early night. After a quick supper of cold chicken and freshly baked bread, washed down with cool lemonade, everyone said their goodbyes and the Bradfords hit the road.

When he and Rian had been boys, they’d slept out in the pump house, makeshift guest quarters that couldn’t have been more perfect for two teenage boys. Kane had offered to take his old quarters, but Warren wouldn’t hear of it and instead offered up the room that’d always been Laci’s. Kane scrubbed his hand over his face with a smothered groan. The worn hardwood floor creaked under his feet and memory sprang to life, vibrant as the day it was created.

“Laci, are you sure about this?” he asked. His seventeen-year-old voice broke, his nervousness at being caught only temporarily muted by the intense, overwhelming need to feel Laci against him. The floorboards creaked and it sounded like a four-alarm fire bell, clanging like the dickens, blaring a warning for all to hear that Kane Dalton was up to no good with sweet Laci McCall! He froze, sweat beading his brow as he tensed, preparing to jump out the window if need be, but it was all quiet. In fact, if he strained hard enough, he could hear Warren snoring from behind his closed bedroom door. Kane’s heart hammered in his chest and he half feared a heart attack or something the way it was carrying on.

“Get your cute butt over here right now, Kane Dalton,” Laci whispered with a giggle. “This is a one-time, limited offer. And if you don’t take me up on it, I might just change my mind and leave you in your sorry state.”

Kane glanced down at the raging erection bulging his jeans and he swallowed in half embarrassment, half agony. “C’mon, Laci, if we get caught...”

“No one’s gonna catch us, you big scaredy-cat.” She grinned in the moonlight, more beautiful than ever, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. “Warren and Cora sleep like the dead. Nothing could wake them. Now...are you gonna just stand there looking silly or are you gonna get over here and show me a good time?”

If his cock were in charge, he’d say, Hell yes! And would be vaulting his way to that bed, but he was torn between the fear of being caught and tossed out for violating the Bradfords’ trust and giving in to his deepest, most secret desire and banging the hell out of that country cutie! But he and Rian needed this job and he couldn’t screw things up by thinking with his dick, right? Hell, who was he kidding? It was more than his dick that was talking. He’d fallen head over heels for this girl and there was no denying it, even if it was the stupidest thing he’d ever gone and done.

“Kane Dalton...don’t you hurt my feelin’s now,” she teased just as she slowly pulled her nightshirt off, revealing two of the most achingly perfect breasts he’d ever had the pleasure of staring at, and just then, he lost all ability to reason, function or otherwise think with anything other than the part of his anatomy that was sucking up all the blood in his body. “Like what you see?”

“Oh, damn, girl,” he breathed, forgetting about the squeaky floor and the possible repercussions. Within seconds, his pants were off and he was climbing onto the bed with Laci beneath him. Her blond hair was spread out on the pillow like a halo, and her nipples hardened like twin berries, ripe for the plucking. His eyes nearly crossed with crazy desire and he lost himself for a brief moment in the vision of perfection beneath him. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known,” he murmured as she threaded her hands through his hair and drew his mouth to hers for a sweet kiss that sent rocket blasts of pleasure straight to his toes.

She broke the kiss and stared into his eyes. “And you’re mine, Kane Dalton. Always. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, his heart approving. “I’ll always be yours.” His fervent vow was as true as any, but what the hell did a seventeen-year-old boy know of anything? Still, it didn’t stop him from solemnly promising her his soul. “Nothing’ll ever change that fact, I promise.”

“I love you, Kane...”

“I love you, Laci.”

Kane jerked himself from that memory and shook his head as if he could dislodge it, but the whisper-soft pledge remained an echo from his distant past. He sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if he was going to be able to sleep there. Just walking over the threshold had nearly caused his brain to melt with the recollection of what he and Laci had done in this room, in this bed that summer. What would sleeping there every night do to him? Hell, what was he getting so worked up about? It was a damn bed. It was natural to reminisce about your first time. Plenty of women between that memory and now, so stop dwelling.

He kicked off his shoes and undressed, climbing into the bed nude, as he always did, and prepared to fight sleep because he rarely slept well in a bed that wasn’t his own, but sooner than he’d imagined, he was out.

[4]

LACI HADN’T MEANT to end up in Woodsville, but her rented convertible seemed to have a destination in mind from the start because before she knew it, she was entering the town where she’d often spent summers while her daddy was out logging. The town square, quiet and still bathed in twilight, brought an easy smile to her mouth, even though it’d been a dog’s age since she’d been back. Everything about Woodsville was steeped in nostalgia—the kind that sucked you in with a powerful current that was impossible to swim against. Woodsville was as charming as a postcard on the surface, but she knew not everyone harbored sweet memories of this place.

Kane’s face appeared in her mind’s eye and she fought the immediate catch in her chest. Kane Dalton had been her everything—the light in her soul and the fire in her heart—until he’d gone off and joined the Marines, leaving her behind in a red-hot minute as if she’d meant nothing to him. He’d broken her heart in a million pieces and it was safe to say she’d never fully recovered from his abandonment. Well, some might say she’d done all right for herself but they didn’t know her private pain, the nights she spent thinking of him, wondering where he went, or if he was all right. For all she knew, he was dead, killed in a war on the other side of the world. Sometimes it was easier that way—thinking he was dead—because then she wouldn’t have the option of looking him up just to satisfy some wicked curiosity about things that didn’t matter anymore.

She made a point to never ask the Bradfords about Kane and bless their hearts, they seemed to understand and never volunteered anything, either, which was just the way she liked it. Ignorance was better than knowledge sometimes. It was right selfish of her, but she didn’t want to know if Kane was happily married off to some other woman, when that woman should’ve been her. So, yeah, she preferred to know nothing about Kane Dalton.

But as she was driving through Woodsville, the memories were too strong to deny. Her daddy had started dropping her off at the Bradford ranch, with Warren and Cora, when she was about fifteen. Sweet old couple, they were, but she’d been a terrible brat at times because she’d been mad at her daddy for dumping her off with strangers, even if they were nice enough. Still, they’d been good to her. Cora had taught her how to make the best pies in four counties. She even had the blue ribbon from the county fair to prove it. Not that she had much time to bake these days. Trent didn’t schedule much downtime. A pinch of guilt followed at the thought of her manager. She probably should’ve left a note, but then he’d have followed her and, by damn, she needed some downtime or she was going to lose her ever-loving mind and then where would they be?

She needed peace and solitude and the sound of the farm around her. No more lights in her face, people fussing about her everywhere she turned and definitely no Trent booking her for umpteen appearances until she fell over dead from pure exhaustion. I’ll call as soon as I’ve had a few days to regroup, she promised herself, if only to assuage the guilt, and it worked because after that moment, Trent completely left her mind, and for that, she was grateful.

Since she was already in Woodsville, Laci knew exactly where she wanted to go. It was way past the appropriate time to reconnect with the Bradfords and now was as good a time as any. She knew without a doubt that they would let her stay for as long as she liked and that was exactly the kind of hospitality she needed right now. Everything in life that had ever made sense could be found at the Bradford ranch.

When she rolled up to the house, she saw the truck parked out front and smiled quizzically. Warren had always been a Ford man, but this truck was a Dodge. Maybe the old guy had switched loyalties over the years. Hopefully, that was the only thing that’d changed. She climbed the stairs and, when she found the front door locked, she searched under the welcome mat for the spare key—aha! Some things don’t change—and quietly unlocked the door.

At two in the morning, she knew Warren and Cora would be dead asleep—life on the ranch was hard work—so she figured she’d surprise them in the morning. Tiptoeing to what had always been her room, she slipped inside and closed the door, grateful for a bed after hours on the road and way too little sleep. As if a switch were flipped, pure exhaustion returned and extreme fatigue pulled at her eyelids. Everything smelled like home and safety and all she wanted was to put her head on that pillow. Tomorrow, she and Cora could make biscuits and gravy—her favorite—and catch up. But until then...sleep was all she wanted.

Stripping as she went, she climbed beneath the covers and dropped off almost immediately with what she was certain was a smile on her face.

Thank you...this was bliss.

* * *

KANE’S MOUTH CLOSED over a tightly budded nipple and sucked the sweet berry, teasing the tiny ridged piece of flesh until the woman writhed and moaned, arching into his arms, offering more of herself for his touch. Her skin was like the smoothest alabaster, perfect in every way. Her breasts overflowed his hands and he squeezed the abundant flesh with a groan as he moved to the other nipple. Her breathy pants fueled his need to touch and feel every inch of her, to know what made her squirm, what made her cry out with abandon. He needed to know everything about her. He wanted to own her cries and make her body quake with each thrust. His finger slid between her slick folds, searching for that sweet heat, testing and teasing. There was something so familiar about the way she cried out, the way she clung to him, pressing herself against him so that every part of her was touching him in some way. Her body, soft and willing, created a carnal need so fierce that his hands shook as he gripped her hips and ground his swollen cock against her. Their tongues collided with urgent, desperate thrusts as they swallowed each other’s breath and created a maelstrom of lust and want between them. Good God, his heart hammered with a ferocity that he’d never experienced. He needed that slippery heat as much as he needed air to breathe. He wanted to plunge inside her, going balls deep, straight to the hilt, but as he was poised above her, ready to slide into blessed home, something—an errant sensation, a discordant moment amid total bliss—caused him to realize he wasn’t dreaming and that he was about to make love with a complete stranger.

Kane’s eyes flew open and he stiffened, ignoring the aching pulse between his legs, as he stared down at the woman beneath him, her arms still looped around his neck with drowsy desire. Her eyelids fluttered open and her mouth opened in confusion, followed by alarm. “Oh my God!” she cried, jerking her arms away from his neck and then pushing at his chest. “Get off me! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

It was then that he realized that he was lying on top of—son of a bitch!—Laci McCall.

* * *

OH, GOOD LORD! Laci’s cheeks burned with mortification as, of all people, Kane Dalton stared down at her with sudden dawning recognition. What the hell was he doing in her old bed at the Bradford ranch? She pushed at his chest, refusing to appreciate all that solid muscle beneath her fingertips or the fact that he felt pretty good on top of her, glaring as she demanded that he get off. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but if you don’t get yourself off me right now, I’m going to turn you from a rooster to a hen in about five seconds.”

“No need for that,” he bit out, seemingly just as thrown off-kilter by the current events as he rolled off her, taking most of the blankets with him, further exposing her naked body. She gasped and retrieved the blanket, scooting as far away from him as possible. Ten seconds ago, their tongues had been in each other’s mouths and he’d been about to...oh, goodness gracious... Yeah, you know what he was gonna do and you were about to let him!

She gathered the blankets around her tightly, even though she realized it was a lot like closing the barn door after the horses have already run out, but it gave her some sense of control in a whacked-out situation. Damn, he looked good. He was a breath of fresh air after too much time spent on a tour bus. Stop that! Kane had always been a good-looking devil, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t lead a girl straight to hell with a smile on his handsome face. “So? Explain yourself,” she said, glaring.

“Me? I was asked to take care of the ranch while the Bradfords go to Florida for a special cancer treatment for Cora. How about you? Last I heard, you haven’t been around this ranch in close to five years, too busy going off and getting famous and all that to visit. Warren and Cora might make excuses for you, but I sure as hell ain’t gonna do it. So that brings me back to my original question... What the hell are you doing here?”

Her mouth dropped open, filled with ready and hot words to defend herself, but there was something else that caught her attention and jerked her around. “Cancer? What do you mean, cancer? Nobody told me Cora was sick,” she said, genuinely concerned, forgetting for the moment that she and Kane were still naked in a room together. “How sick?”

“That’s not for me to say,” Kane answered gruffly. “If Cora wanted you to know, she would’ve found a way to tell you.”

“Don’t be a jerk. I have just as much right to know about Cora’s illness as you do. She was like family to me and you know it.”

“Do I? Do I know that? Because the way I see it, you plain disappeared and walked away from anyone who’d ever meant anything to you, including the Bradfords.”

“Shut your mouth. Don’t you dare talk to me about walking away when that’s exactly what you did when you joined the Marines, leaving me behind as if I were an old sack of potatoes,” she retorted, her fury returning in a blaze of fire. “You’ve some nerve, Kane Dalton, to talk to me like you’ve got a leg to stand on. You left me without so much as a ‘catch you later’ and I was left to deal with the fallout.”

Kane buttoned his lip—as well he should—and didn’t deny her accusation, but that didn’t stop him from maintaining his position. “The situation between me and you ain’t got nothing to do with the Bradfords. You could’ve kept in contact and if you had, you would’ve known about Cora.”

“I did keep in contact as much as my schedule allowed,” she told him as tears pricked her eyes, but she held them back. He was right. She should’ve made more of an effort, but Trent kept her moving at breakneck speed and it was hard enough to remember what city she was in, much less to call people from her former life. But she couldn’t say that—even to her own ears it sounded petty and self-absorbed, no matter that it was the truth—and so she swallowed her tears and her need to defend herself and simply jerked a short nod, conceding a small point. “I love the Bradfords and they love me. If you don’t believe me, you can go screw yourself.” Ignoring her nakedness, because who cared at this point, she tossed the blanket away and climbed from the bed, proud as you please, then scooped up her discarded clothing and walked from the room with her head held high. Take a good look, Kane, because it’s the last one you’re gonna get!

[5]

HOT DAMN, THAT ass was going to be the death of him, Kane thought as Laci left the room, purposefully giving him an eyeful out of spite. Oh yeah, he knew it was spite, too, because he could see it in the angry twitch of her sweet hips as she exited. She’d wanted him to know exactly what he was missing—as if he didn’t already know—and make him hurt with the knowledge. His cock throbbed with plaintive disappointment and he pushed at the stiff member with irritation. Ain’t nothing gonna happen with you, so settle down.

He found his jeans and a T-shirt and went straight to the kitchen for some coffee and a slice of Cora’s peach pie. It didn’t matter that Laci was here; the chores waited for no one—that was one thing he’d learned all those years ago and nothing had changed that fact.

He found Laci already brewing the coffee, except he noted with a mix of relief and disappointment that she’d dressed—although the short sparkly number wasn’t exactly made for modesty—and he wondered what her plans were. She couldn’t stay, that was all he knew, but he’d wait until after he’d had his pie to deliver that sour news.

“Did you leave your tiara at home?” he asked, gesturing to her getup with a grimace. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Laci glared. “Don’t you dare get after me for what I’m wearing because it’s none of your business.” She glanced down at the short, impossibly tight dress, but admitted snippily, “If you must know, it’s all I had with me. I left in a hurry.”

That begged more questions, but he bit his tongue. He didn’t want to know what trouble she was in. Whatever was happening in her life was her own doing. Still, he didn’t think he could focus with her traipsing around in that sparkly thing. “I’m sure Cora wouldn’t mind if you borrowed a dress or shirt or something other than that thing,” he said.

“There’s no way I’m going to fit into anything Cora can wear and you know it. You’re just going to have to deal with me in my costume until I can get to town and pick up some supplies.”

“Whoa, now. What are you talking about? You thinking of staying?” The alarm in his voice did nothing for her already prickly disposition, but he couldn’t help it. “C’mon now, what are you thinking? Don’t you have your famous life to get back to?”

“You hush your mouth before you choke on your damn foot,” she snapped with a glower. “I can see right now some things never change. Tact was never your strong suit.”

“Don’t see no point in sugarcoating shit.”

Laci drew a deep breath and started over. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I didn’t even know you would be here, but we have ourselves a situation that we need to work together to figure out.”

He crossed his arms and waited. “This ought to be good. Tell me how we’re going to work this out? I’m all ears.”

“So the Bradfords aren’t here and you’re taking care of the ranch for them,” she surmised.

“That’s about the long and short of it, but I fail to see how that creates a situation for the two of us when it seems pretty clear to me what the solution is.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Is that so? Enlighten me.”

“You leave. I stay.”

“And why should I have to leave? The Bradfords have extended a standing invitation to me. I have every right to be here with their blessing.”

“Why would you want to?” he asked point-blank. “It’s not like we’re the best of friends. I have a purpose for being here...you don’t.” She bit her lip, her gaze acknowledging that fact, but there was something else there, something she wasn’t saying, that she held back. Kane didn’t want to care, but he couldn’t seem to help himself, saying roughly, “Listen, you’ve got your reasons for coming and it’s none of my business. All I’m saying is that I can’t leave because I made a commitment to the Bradfords. You can stay or go, your choice, but if you choose to stay, it could be awkward.”

“So you wouldn’t care if I stayed?”

Hell yes, he would care. “No,” he lied, because there was no sense in adding more fuel to the fire. The fact was, there was some truth to her accusation that he’d left her behind, but she didn’t know the whole story, nor would he tell her, either—that was his gift to her, even if she never knew the whole of it. But he supposed if his arm were twisted, he’d have to admit there was no harm in letting her hang out if she needed to. The ranch was plenty big enough. Hell, he could take the pump house and let her stay in her old bedroom. He exhaled a long breath, prepared to do the one thing he never saw himself doing. “We got off on the wrong foot...you can stay. I’ll move out to the pump house and give you the room. If we stay out of each other’s hair, everything should be fine. We’re adults, right?”

“Yeah,” she agreed and damn, if that wasn’t the right thing to remind each other at the moment because he was fairly certain she was remembering what they’d almost done this morning as adults. She cleared her throat and smiled, gesturing to the coffeepot. “So, how about we share a pot of coffee and start over? Can we do that?”

Sure. And maybe she could stop being so damn easy on the eyes? He cut his gaze away, needing a minute to school his thoughts before they gave him away. “How long you thinking of staying?” he asked, needing to know how long he’d have to suffer the constant barrage of the past in the form of the present.

“Just a few days, I suspect. That okay?”

He grunted in answer. “Sure. I can handle a few days.” He reached for the pot and poured himself a mug, then, because he was practically raised by Cora to do the right thing, he poured Laci a mug as well before moving to the oven where he pulled out the pie. “Grab some plates, will you?” he asked and Laci smiled with delight as she did so.

“Cora made peach pie before she left? That dear old thing is the living embodiment of Betty Crocker and I love her for it,” Laci said, accepting a slice from him.

“Yeah, and Warren gave her hell for it, too. She’s real sick, Laci. I don’t know if that treatment is going to do a bit of good at this point.”

“Really?” Laci’s expression dimmed as she took a bite, but a smile lifted her mouth as she appreciated Cora’s talent for the culinary arts. “I never could match her recipe, no matter how hard I tried. That woman has magic in her fingers when it comes to the kitchen.”

“You come pretty damn close,” he grudgingly admitted between bites, trying not to think too hard on how natural it felt to sit here with Laci, talking about pie, because it wasn’t natural at all. Not in the least. He’d left for a reason and he could tell by the way things had panned out for Laci that his choice had been the smart one. So don’t start romanticizing sharing a slice of pie, he warned himself. He finished up and brought his plate to the sink where he started to wash up, when Laci joined him and took the plate from him.

“I got this,” she said. “You’ve got chores to do. The least I can do is clean up.”

“Thanks,” he said, hating how the morning light glinted off the honey strands of her hair, giving her a halo. In all the years and miles he’d put between himself and Laci, he’d never found a woman who came halfway close to the way he’d felt about Laci. There was a reason she was a superstar—she had something special—and he’d known it from the start. Back away, he told himself when the urge to touch her cheek became too hard to fight. “I’ll be feeding the cattle,” he told her, stepping away, needing to put some space between them right this second before he scooped her into his arms and finished what they’d started this morning. Boy, wouldn’t that be the most epically bad decision of his life? Yeah, but if he were going to screw up his life and everything he’d built to this point, he might as well go big, right? Not really, the voice answered drily. Keep it in your pants, big boy, and remember what her daddy told you all those years ago...she ain’t for you, son. Ain’t that the truth. Kane started for the door but Laci’s voice at his back stopped him.

“I’m heading to town to pick up a few things. You need anything?”

He half turned, regarding her with a slow, deliberate gaze. You naked beneath me and all the time in the world to make up for what I lost a long time ago. But he couldn’t say that. Not in a million years would he, either. So he uttered the one thing he could, “Nope,” and then exited the house as if it were on fire.

* * *

MAYBE SHE SHOULDN’T STAY. Laci rolled the idea around in her head, weighing the pros and cons of staying a few days in the same house as Kane when stacked up against the very real problem of their long-buried, but obviously very much alive, attraction to one another. Allowing her gaze to roam the familiar kitchen with its worn hardwood floors, she noted the disrepair creeping up and taking over. Rusted hinges on the cupboards, chipped countertops...everywhere she looked she found something that needed a little TLC. It was just Cora and Warren in this old ranch house and Cora, bless her heart, was sick and Warren had his hands full trying to care for her and the ranch without any help. Why hadn’t they called her? She would’ve flown in the best of care for Cora if need be. Round-the-clock care, even.

Laci worried her lip, concerned and feeling out of sorts for being unaware that all this had been happening to two of the nicest people she knew and loved. She could blame Trent for keeping her going 24/7, but the fact was, she’d stayed away because of Kane. The Bradford ranch was so much a part of her memories with Kane that for a while it’d been too painful to go there knowing that Kane was gone.

Of course, in hindsight, that’d been just selfish. Warren and Cora were good folk and they’d been there for her when she’d had no one except her daddy, God rest his soul, and she’d repaid that kindness by relegating them to a few hurried phone calls in between shows. Laci rubbed at the sudden tickle in her nose. She ought to have the kitchen remodeled for Cora. But even as the thought took root, she remembered how particular Cora was about her kitchen and realized she couldn’t go and make a big change like that without the old gal’s permission. The shock of it alone might send Cora into a tailspin.

Laci leaned against the counter, her gaze finding Kane through the kitchen-sink window. He crossed the yard to the barn where she could hear the cows making their usual morning racket. A smile found her. She’d forgotten how loud those milkers could be.

The first time she’d stayed here, Cora had filled a mug with fresh milk and given it to her with a mile-high stack of flapjacks for breakfast and Laci had never experienced something so good as Cora’s cooking coupled with milk straight from the cow. However, at first, Laci had been resistant, pushing away the milk with a polite “No, thank you” because she was mildly lactose intolerant, but Cora just laughed and asked her to try it.

“I’m willing to bet your stomach will tolerate fresh milk just fine,” Cora had assured her, but Laci hadn’t been too sure. Her daddy had dropped her off with these old folks and now they were trying to kill her, she’d thought. But her daddy had ingrained in her a respect for her elders so, sending a prayer to heaven, she drank the milk and ate the flapjacks. When her stomach didn’t immediately rebel, she stared at Cora in confusion, prompting Cora to say, “I was raised on a farm with nothing but fresh milk and there weren’t nothing like that ‘lactose intolerant’ stuff going around. You know why? Because we didn’t monkey around with the milk. It came straight to our cups as God intended and you can’t tell me that God don’t know what he’s doin’ when it comes to his animals. That stuff you buy in the supermarkets got goodness-only-knows-what inside it and none of the good stuff that was put there in the first place. That’s why your body don’t mind it.”

And after that, Laci never thought twice about drinking raw milk, until Trent came along and tossed it from her travel fridge, saying milk made phlegm and it was bad for her singing career. She hadn’t had a glass of milk—raw or otherwise—in years. Laci watched Kane until he disappeared into the barn and then went to the fridge. She found a glass container of milk and smiled. “Might as well make sure it doesn’t go to waste,” she murmured, pouring what was left into a mug and drinking it down. A sigh of happy nostalgia followed and she simply enjoyed the quiet moment.

Maybe it was weird, but she’d come to really appreciate the small things since she’d hit it big. Most times, she never talked about her childhood to anyone within her inner circle, much less reporters who asked. Her daddy had done a fine-enough job for a single father, but times had been hard and there was no way of prettying up that simple fact. Her time with the Bradfords had been the first stint of stability she’d ever had, similar to Kane and Rian. Not that her daddy had been abusive like the Dalton boys’ daddy, God no, but her daddy hadn’t always done a good job of providing a sense of home for his only daughter. Oh, Daddy...I wish you were still here. You’d know how to handle Trent.

All she’d done was run away from her problem, but it would be right where she left it when she went back. The dissatisfying smack of reality threatened to sour the milk she’d just enjoyed, so she let it go. She’d deal with that later. In the meantime, she was going to find a way to help Cora without stepping on her toes too much. She turned a critical eye to the kitchen. Maybe some new appliances? Surely that wouldn’t be overstepping too much. But first...she surveyed her glittering costume with a smirk; she needed to get a few things from town.

[6]

LACI DROVE INTO WOODSVILLE, sunglasses on, trying as much as possible to blend in, but really, that was a tall order, particularly while wearing the glittery sparkler of a costume that practically screamed, Hey, look at me! While that worked well for being onstage, it definitely made her stand out—in a bad way—in a small town where cotton blends were the norm. The last thing she needed was someone to recognize her and Trent to find out prematurely where she was. She knew she had to return at some point—she had a tour to finish—but she wasn’t ready to face that world again. Not yet. First things first, she needed to find some different clothes.

Laci walked into the first clothing store she found, a small consignment/thrift store. She cringed at the odd stares coming her way and hustled to the racks to find some simple jean shorts and T-shirts to get her through the next few days. As luck would have it, she actually found quite a few cute outfits and scooped them up before the stares turned into questions she wanted to avoid.

Standing at the checkout, she asked the clerk, “May I use your dressing room to change?”

“Sure, honey,” the woman answered, giving Laci a speculative and openly curious look. “That’s some outfit you have there.”

Laci risked a brief smile. “Costume party,” she answered with what she hoped was a believable lie, but she didn’t waste time on details and simply disappeared into the changing room with her new-to-her clothing.

The fact was, being a celebrity wasn’t quite what she’d thought it was going to be like. All those people wanting a piece of her every night was more than a little unsettling. All she’d ever wanted to do was sing. Now, people wanted more than just her voice, they wanted her damn clothing, too! Once, a woman had practically ripped a piece of her costume off her body, screeching with victory as she’d sprinted away from Security with her prize. Laci had been stunned that someone would want a piece of her sweaty costume and then a little freaked out because what was the woman going to do with it? But Simone had been pissed as hell because she’d spent hours sewing that costume.

At the thought of Simone, Laci almost picked up her cell and gave her a ring, but she couldn’t bring herself to do even that—not that she didn’t want to worry Simone, but she couldn’t take the chance that Trent might be lurking nearby. Trent’s not a bad guy, her daddy’s voice chided her from inside her mind. He’s made you a star and this is a fine howdy-do you’ve handed him for all his hard work. I raised you better than that, didn’t I?

Laci pursed her lips. True, Daddy, but Trent’s driving me into the ground. I need this. Just a few days, I promise.

Her next stop was the small, locally owned furniture store, Bleudell’s. She walked into the store and went straight to the appliances. Cora wouldn’t want something too fancy, but maybe something just slightly better than what she had. Maybe even the same model, only newer, she thought, eyeing the refrigerators.

“Can I help you find something?” The friendly voice at her back caused her to turn with a shy smile, a little afraid of being recognized, particularly by someone who might’ve known her when she was a kid spending her summers in Woodsville. “That there is a good model, but the best value is in the stainless-steel one.”

“It’s for a friend and she’s a little stuck in her ways, so I want to get something that’s close to what she’s got,” she explained to the woman wearing a polite, retaily smile. “I mean, I’d love to buy her the state-of-the-art appliance if she’d let me, but I don’t want to buy something she’s going to end up eyeing sidewise, you know?”

“Do I know your friend? Maybe I can help.”

She opened her mouth but thought better of it, saying, “No, I don’t think so. She keeps to herself. What’s the price on this model?”

“That’ll set you back about eight hundred dollars,” the saleswoman answered. “I can guarantee that’s the best price you’re gonna find in the surrounding area.”

Laci gave the woman a short smile, murmuring, “I’ll take it. Can you have it ready by the end of the day?”

“We can deliver it if you like, honey. Where’s it going?”

She shook her head, not wanting people gossiping when they found out it was for the Bradford ranch. “I’ll have someone pick it up. Can you show me the stoves?”

“That’s some friend you have. I wish I had a friend like you who bought me new appliances. Is this by any chance a special fella you’re buying for?”

Laci barked a laugh. “Goodness, no, just a friend. About those stoves?” she asked, gently directing the saleswoman with a smile. The woman took the hint and accompanied her to the stoves, where Laci promptly found one that was strikingly similar to Cora’s but newer and pulled her credit card. One swipe later, she had a receipt for purchase and a scheduled time for pickup later that evening.

An hour later, Laci had managed to buy everything on her list, including enough groceries for the next few days. It’d been a long time since she’d cooked a homemade meal and she was itching to see if she could still remember the basics. There was a certain level of happiness at the idea of cooking for Kane, even if she knew it was dangerous to indulge in such a fantasy.

Kane had certainly matured into a fine man, not that there’d been any doubt in Laci’s mind that he would. Kane was one of those genetically gifted individuals who’d never gone through an awkward phase in his life. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him that hot summer, her fifteen-year-old heart had started thumping like a jackrabbit’s foot and she’d about lost her ability to speak the English language. Yeah, he was that hot. Of course, she’d been a bit difficult back then, angry at the world for problems that had nothing to do with the people around her but everything to do with the fact that she felt abandoned and alone.

By the time she returned to the ranch, she came armed with a take-and-bake pizza that she fully intended to use as a little sugar on top of her request to Kane about picking up the appliances. Cora had always said with a wink that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach and Kane seemed to fall in line with that advice because she’d never known the man to turn down a hot meal.

Humming a little experimental tune she’d been playing around with, she walked into the house, carrying the pizza and beer, and then returned to the rental car to get the rest of her bags. By the time Kane returned from outside, covered in sweat and dirt, the pizza was just about ready and the beer was chilled.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, sniffing the air as he wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm, pinning her with a look that stripped her bare. Oh, heaven help me... He smelled like hardworking man with a side of sweaty, break-the-bedsprings sex, and Laci’s knees weakened as her mouth dried.

“Smells good,” he said, going to the sink and rinsing his face real quick. “You make pizza or something?”

“Or something,” she said, scooting away on the pretense of cracking a beer to hand to him, but honestly, she didn’t trust herself being within grabbing distance. Her head wasn’t screwed on straight if she was suddenly panting after Kane Dalton after what he’d done to her heart all those years ago. She began to hand him the beer, but then, on a whim, stopped and took a lingering sip before handing it to him. His gaze darkened, but a faint smile lifted his lips and she shivered against the wickedness that flashed in his eyes. Dangerous game, girl. Laci cleared her throat and shrugged because it was truly no big deal. “It’s nothing fancy, just take-and-bake, but I thought you might be hungry after all those chores.”

“You thought right,” Kane said, tipping the beer back with an appreciative swig, and Laci wasn’t above sneaking another look at those bulging biceps. “Ah, a cold beer on a hot day...that’s almost better than sex.”

“Then you’re not having the right kind of sex,” she countered with a mildly teasing grin. Were they flirting? It felt like flirting, which was probably a bad idea.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, his gaze unreadable, but his body language was having a full-on conversation with her ovaries. “Pepperoni?”

“With sausage,” she answered, her breath catching when he walked toward her. Was he going to kiss her? He had that look on his face as if he was going to bend her over and take her right there on the kitchen counter—and if she were being truthful, she wouldn’t lift a finger to stop him. But just as he crowded her personal space and she angled her lips to his, his chuckle broke the spell as he deposited his empty bottle in the trash bin behind her under the sink. Drat. Way to get your hopes up, Laci. You’re just standing in the way of the trash can.

“Why, Laci McCall...is that disappointment I see?” he murmured, still crowding her. Hell yes, that’s disappointment, but she sure wasn’t going to admit that and gave his chest a firm push with a scowl. He backed away with a deeper chuckle of amusement, his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. “All right, all right...no need to get prickly. I was just asking.”

“Go wash up—you smell worse than a pig rolling around in a mud pit,” she told him, which was a complete lie, but she didn’t want him thinking he had her figured out and twisted around his finger. If anyone was going to get twisted, it was Kane. She’d be sure of that. “Don’t spend all day in there, either. I’m starved,” she added on as he walked away.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kane said with an exaggerated drawl that sent arousal coursing through her body. Once he was out of the room, she let out her breath in a whoosh as she sagged against the sink for a minute to catch her bearings. She’d plainly underestimated the raw, animal attraction still pulsing between her and Kane, even after all these years. Maybe it was stupid to share the same space together, even for a few days. It’d taken her a long time to get over Kane, although if her reaction to him was any indication, maybe she never had.