“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Making friends. Friends who won’t walk away when I’m still talking.”

“I didn’t walk away. You did.”

“Semantics.” Or that’s what she tried to say, but her tongue tripped all over itself.

Serena laughed and staggered to her feet, smacking Cam in the chest. “You’re driving her plowed butt home, right?”

“I’m driving all of your plowed butts home.” He held out his fingers. “Keys.”

“Harley and I are good.” Serena pulled on Harley’s sleeve, helping her upright, where they leaned on each other. “We’re going to hang out here and consume massive quantities of the best dessert in town.”

“Psst,” Harley said in a stage whisper. “You’re the only dessert in town.”

Serena shushed her and looked at Katie. “You could join us. Your choice.”

“I could?”

“She could?” Cam said, just as surprised.

“Yes, but vaginas only. No dicks.” Serena grinned and pointed at Cam. “And you, Cam Wilder, are a d-”

“Whoops,” Harley said, covering Serena’s mouth, pulling her toward the door. “I think that’s enough vodka-induced insults.”

Katie stared after them, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the vodka and everything to do with…belonging.

“Are you grinning at anything in particular?” Cam asked.

She focused in on him. He was irritated. Wait. Not just irritated, but actually holding her upright. When had that happened? “They like me. They really like me.”

“Okay, Sally Fields, let’s go.”

“They really do.”

“Look, don’t take this wrong, but it might have more to do with Serena wanting to hurt me than her liking you.”

Well, hell, if that didn’t cut through the nice buzz she had going. “Did you ever think that maybe not everything is about you?”

“She’s my ex, Katie.”

“And now she’s my friend.” She pulled free of Cam and went to straighten her glasses but managed only to poke herself in the eye. “Ouch.”

Cam tried to take a hold of her again, but she shook her head, which then swam. “Whoa.” She winced at both that and her increasingly slurred voice. Apparently, she really was quite tanked. “Listen, I might be your employee, and I might have a crush on you, and I might want to have some more…” She lowered her voice, “Sex.”

He blinked, and she poked him in the chest. “But that doesn’t mean you can tell me who to be friends with.”

He lifted his hands. “All I’m trying to do is take your drunk ass home.”

“I’m not-”

“Please, you’re ripped one hundred ways to next week.”

“You know what? Fine.”

“Fine.” He gestured ahead of him to his truck. She lifted her chin and took two steps toward it, then tripped over her own feet, hitting the sidewalk on all fours.

“Goddammit.” She was scooped up into a set of hard, warm arms. Which really was just where she wanted to be. So she sighed and snuggled in, pressing her face to his throat, exposed since she still had his scarf.

And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she kissed the warm flesh. And then, because she really couldn’t help herself, she gently sucked a patch of his skin into her mouth.

“Okay,” he said shakily. “None of that.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m no fun?”

“No, you’re not. In fact, you’re the opposite of fun. You, Cam Wilder, are a fun sucker.”

He opened his passenger door and deposited her inside, then came around and got in the driver’s side. “I’m the definition of fun.”

“If that were true, you’d have had me naked by now.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

He swore beneath his breath again and started the truck.

“Huh.”

He slid her a look. “Huh what?”

“I can’t tell what you’re thinking.”

He said a big load of his famed nothing to that.

“You’re hard to read. I mean, sometimes I can tell. Like when you have your tongue down my throat, I know what you’re thinking then.”

This tore a laugh from him.

“I came here for adventure, Cam. To risk. To live.”

He stopped laughing. “I know.”

“And I got all that. Especially the adventure-which turned out to be you. You’re my adventure, Cam, all dark and dangerously alluring.”

He slid her another long look, but he still didn’t enlighten her on his thoughts. And he didn’t take her to Wilder Adventures either, but instead pulled into a driveway in front of a house near the end of town.

The two-story Victorian had a sign out front that read: DR. SINCLAIR, URGENT CARE. CLOSED. “You’re sick?” she asked.

“No, Annie asked me to pick up some supplies. She likes to get stuff from old Dr. Sinclair rather than drive into South Shore.”

“I thought she gets her diabetes supplies from the UPS guy.”

“This is for our first-aid kits.” He paused. “Dangerously alluring?”

“It’s all in your eyes. Well, and your butt. You have a great butt. Doc’s closed, Cam.”

“He’s recently had a heart attack and hasn’t yet found someone to take the place over for him.” He turned off the truck and opened the door. “I’ll be right back.” He pointed at her. “Don’t go on any joy rides without me.”

“I’ve never been on a joy ride in my life.”

“Well then, don’t start now.”

When she was alone, she let out a long breath and watched him walk up the path. Both of him. Good God, she really was quite drunk.

Something rang, startling her; then she laughed. It was her cell phone. She patted down her pockets before she realized it was in her purse on the floor. She reached for it and ended up on the floor boards. Odd how being drunk really did affect one’s motor skills…

Cam gave up knocking on Doc’s door and went back to his truck. He opened the door, then paused at the sight of Katie on her knees.

Her hair had slipped out of its restraints. Her eyes were glassy but full of the life that was like a punch to his gut every single time he looked at her. Her cheeks were red, her mouth curved in the smile that never failed to cause a chain reaction on his.

“My purse was ringing,” she explained.

He nodded and resisted the temptation to say, “While you’re down there…”

Because he wasn’t going there.

Not.

Going.

There.

Yeah. And maybe if he kept repeating it to himself, his body would get the message. But God, look at her. Adorably trashed. Sexy as hell.

And utterly and completely unaware of the hold she had on him. Without meaning to, he was finding his heart cracking, tentatively opening in spite of himself, and God knew, hell everyone knew, he wasn’t fond of the sensation.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, she laughed at herself, then crawled back up into her seat and shoved her hair out of her face to grin at him. “Hey.”

“Hey right back atchya.”

She stared into his eyes. “You’re so pretty, Cam.”

“And you’re hammered. Seriously. Your vision is impaired.”

“Come on. You have a mirror. You know you’re pretty.” She waved a hand, managing to avoid hitting herself in the face this time. “But actually, I meant that you’re pretty on the inside, even if your heart’s been hurt.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Still matters.”

“Only if you let it.” He went to start the truck, but she put a hand over his. He shook his head even as he turned his hand over, entwining his fingers in hers. “I don’t like to look back.”

“I know that. You don’t look to the future either. You live in the moment to avoid more hurt. I can understand that. I think.” She fisted her hands in his jacket and tugged him close enough to give him a big, smacking kiss on the lips that tasted of vodka and sweet, warm woman. “I’m living in the moment while I’m here in Wishful.” She batted her eyes. “I’m in the moment right now. How about you?”

Oh yeah. Unable to resist, he kissed her, then firmly pulled back.

“I almost did donuts in the lot while you were gone,” she admitted, recovering from the kiss much more quickly than he.

“Donuts?”

“In the snow,” she explained, twirling her finger in a circle in the air to demonstrate. “Fast.”

He had to smile. “What, are we twelve?”

“You say that because you probably did donuts in the snow when you were twelve.”

True. He’d stolen Annie’s car to do it too. She’d nearly killed him, but even that hadn’t taken away the joy of that night, driving a forbidden car, going fast beneath the stars, laughing his ass off… With a sigh, he put the truck in reverse, took them to the middle of the parking lot, and stomped on the gas while cranking the wheel hard to the left.

Katie screamed and laughed and screamed some more, and when he stopped the truck, she collapsed against the back of the seat and sighed in utter bliss.

For two seconds.

Then she suddenly went ashen, then a spectacular green. She slapped a hand over her mouth and said “uh-oh,” signs he recognized all too well. Leaning in front of her, he shoved open her door just in time for her to lose her lunch, dinner, dessert, and vodka right there in Doc’s parking lot.

He held her from falling out of the truck on her face and scooped back her hair, while silently congratulating himself for being stupid enough to take her for a spin while drunk. “You okay?”

“Kill me,” she murmured, accepting the bottle of water he’d grabbed and handed to her. She rinsed out her mouth and leaned back. “Just kill me and spare me the agony of embarrassment.”

“For throwing up?” He shook his head. “Hell, Katie, I’ve had evenings end far worse than this.”

Eyes still closed, she smiled weakly. “You’re such a nice liar.”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously.” She let out a low, miserable laugh. “I’d be willing to bet that every single time you’ve had a woman in this truck, you’ve gotten your hands on her, and not to hold back her hair while she puked.”

“Actually, believe it or not, I’m out of the habit of seducing cute drunk women.”

She cracked open one eye and laid it on him. “Because of your accident. I can’t believe you stopped having sex.”

“Yeah, well, until you.”

She managed a weak smile. “I’m glad you broke your dry spell with me. I guess I’m irresistible.”

“I guess you are.” He started the truck again and got them on the road. She was surprisingly quiet all the way back to the lodge. Or maybe not so surprisingly, considering when he stopped in front of her cabin, he realized she was out cold, and snoring while she was at it.

He shook his head, turned off the truck, and carried her to the front door, which she’d locked. Without any guilt whatsoever, he frisked her for her keys.

She didn’t so much as budge.

She was still snoring when he set her on her neatly made bed, though she stirred when he tossed a blanket over her.

“Cheese,” she muttered as he pulled off her glasses for her and set them on the nightstand.

“What’s that, Goldilocks?”

“Have to put out cheese for Chuck.”

“You’ll get something other than Chuck if you do that.”

“Please?”

He caved. Of course he caved. One look into those vodka-reddened eyes and he’d do whatever she asked of him. So he got some cheese out of her small refrigerator and placed it on her front step. When he moved back into her bedroom, she was up on her knees, attempting to strip out of her clothes. She got her sweater off but looked stymied by the fact that she was still wearing two more layers. She tried to tug the two under-shirts off as well, which took a while because she got them stuck on her head for one brief second during which her breasts threatened to have a serious wardrobe malfunction and fall out of her bra.

Ah, hell. She looked adorably flushed, and adorably sexy, but he was not going to seduce her when she was drunk, no matter how much he wanted her. “Get in bed.”

Instead, she fell to her back and went to work on the zipper of her pants.

And he began to sweat. “Come on, Katie, just get under the covers.”

Nope, and there went her pants, which promptly got snagged on her boots because she’d failed to remove them first.

“Not again.” She flung herself to the bed, flat on her back in nothing but royal blue bra and panties, with her pants around her ankles, caught on her boots. “Oh boy. I’m dizzy.”

So was he, because she made quite the picture lying there.

Drunk, he reminded himself.

Hands off.

“De cha vu,” she said, and laughed.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, which didn’t help. He reluctantly moved in to assist, removing first her boots, then her pants.

“I’m really quite drunk,” she informed him in surprise, sliding her fingers into his hair, tugging his face to hers. “Very, very drunk.”