Amazed that he’d found a signal, she headed for the kitchen and the waiting coffee. Brinks laid sprawled in front of the refrigerator, his favorite spot downstairs. According to the coffeemaker, it was a quarter past nine. Shayna fixed herself a cup and headed through the mudroom, pulling on her toasty work coat and slipping her feet into her heavy boots before stepping out on the back porch. Brinks flew past her, making a mad dash for some unseen critter in the woods.

She could see the wind blowing through the trees, but the three-sided porch protected her from the blast. Apparently, a corner of her brain had been hoping the weatherman had made a mistake, but the heavy, gray clouds and the icicle lawn proved he’d gotten it right.

Hands huddled around her steaming mug, she let her gaze wander over the yard. In the far corner, her garden drooped under the damaging ice. Those veggies were vital to making her budget stretch. She couldn’t afford to lose the whole lot to bad weather.

Grabbing an empty bushel basket, she carefully picked her way across the slippery lawn. The frost stung her bare fingers as she harvested the last of her fall produce. Eggplant, carrots, broccoli, onions, a few wrinkled bell peppers, and a good mess of beans. Since they weren’t expecting a hard freeze, she left the potatoes tucked in the earth.

Hope Kyle doesn’t mind a vegetable cornucopia for Thanksgiving dinner. Though she did have a ham and some frozen garden veggies in the freezer…and she knew she had all the ingredients for green bean casserole. That was supposed to be her contribution to dinner at Lindy’s.

Shoot! She needed to call and let Lindy know she was fine and dandy but wouldn’t make Thanksgiving. She whistled for Brinks. The dog came running, his tongue hanging out of lips that she’d have sworn were smiling.

On her way back inside, she stopped and rummaged through the freezer, unearthing an eight-pound ham. The frozen meat burned her fingers, and she dashed over and dropped their main course in the sink. Grabbing the phone with one hand and stoppering the sink with the other, Shayna glanced out the window behind the table. Kyle still stood in the same spot, in the same position.

Once she had the ham covered, she turned off the water and dialed Lindy’s number. Travis answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Shayna. How’s the weather up there?”

“Perfect, if you like icy and isolated.”

“We were afraid you’d be stuck.”

“Well, I haven’t tried the roads yet, but judging by last night’s rain and this morning’s temps-” not to mention her guest’s eyewitness account “-I’m pretty sure the bridge’ll be an icy mess.”

“Are you okay up there? Got everything you need?” It was so like Travis to ask.

“I’ll be fine. The propane tank’s full, and I just picked a whole bushel of vegetables. It might not be a traditional Thanksgiving, but we’ll survive.”

She crinkled her eyes at her accidental use of the plural pronoun, but Travis must have assumed she meant her and the dog, because he didn’t comment. They exchanged holiday wishes before he handed the phone off to his wife.

“I knew you should have spent the night with us.”

“Then Brinks would be iced in all by himself. I couldn’t let that happen.” She carried the portable phone over to the fireplace and began poking at the embers. “Besides, it’s not like we’re going to die up here. It’s just a couple of days, and I’ve already assured Travis we have all the basic necessities covered.”

“Good. But you’re going to miss dinner with the family.”

Shayna could hear the tears welling in her friend’s voice. Pregnancy hormones had turned Lindy into a drop-of-the-hat crier.

She stuck the phone between her chin and shoulder and muscled a couple logs into the fireplace. “The ice should melt in time for me to drop by for leftovers in a few days, and that’s my favorite part anyway.”

Lindy sniffled. “Okay.”

Just then, the front door pushed open. Shayna covered the mouthpiece with her hand and stood. Kyle reentered the cabin, a blast of cold air sneaking in with him, blowing through the cabin and fanning the flames Shayna was stoking.

Barely aware of Lindy’s voice in her ear, Shayna stared as he pushed the hood off his head. His sapphire eyes darkened as they focused on her lips. Staring at him, she had to remind herself to breathe. A cowlick stuck out from the top of his blond head, and his face was as red as a child in a Norman Rockwell Christmas print. But despite his cherubic look, he was all man, and her body knew it.

“Shayna!” Lindy’s high-pitched voice reclaimed Shayna’s lost attention.

“Sorry. What?” She backed up and rested her bottom on the arm of the couch as Kyle moved next to her, holding his wide, strong hands out toward the heat of the fire.

“I said, I wish you weren’t spending your holiday alone.”

“I’m not alone.” The truthful answer was instinctive, but when Kyle’s head whipped in her direction, his left eyebrow cocked into a question mark, she began to second-guess herself.

She didn’t want to lie, but if Lindy knew she was stranded up here with a man she barely knew, Lindy would freak out. Shayna hated the idea of adding to her stress, especially since there wasn’t anything her pregnant friend could do about the situation.

Besides, given her unprecedented physical reaction, it was best no one knew about his short visit, especially her best friend, who had a tendency to see more than Shayna wanted her to.

“What do you mean ‘not alone’?” Lindy asked.

“Well, I’ve got Brinks to keep me company.” Warmth that had nothing to do with the fire flushed Shayna’s skin. She wanted to turn her back and ignore her guest, but instead, she leveled her gaze at him.

He shrugged one shoulder and returned his attention to the fire.

“Oh, you and that dog.” Lindy’s exasperated sigh was interrupted by the muffled sound of Travis’s voice in the background. “Looks like I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh, you and that husband,” Shayna teased.

“Damn right. I can only hope one day-one day soon-you find a man who outranks even Brinks.”

“Me, too,” Shayna told her friend.

She thumbed the off button and cradled the phone in her lap. In her periphery, she saw Kyle’s body swivel as he sat on the hearth, his back to the fire. The warm glow played through his hair like sunshine.

“Ashamed to tell your friends about me?”

If only it were that simple. “Of course not. Lindy’s pregnant, and I didn’t want her to worry about me being stuck up here with a potential lunatic.”

“Potential? So the jury’s still out?” His lips curled, crinkling his dimple to life.

Sitting in the beam of that sexy smile, her blood warmed, delicious tingles zinging to all her sensitive places. “I believe I’ll plead the fifth.”

“I thought you were all about social chitchatting?”

“Oh, I am, but I also believe a woman’s entitled to her secrets.” Hyperaware of just how close Kyle’s body was to hers, she sprung to her feet. He rose too, his nearness effectively pinning her in place.

His fingers brushed the hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Careful, Shayna.” The deep timbre of his voice pulsated beneath her skin. “Uncovering a woman’s secrets is a temptation most men can’t resist.”

Shayna’s focus was riveted on his firm lips as he spoke. Would his kiss be tentative and tender or demanding and devastating?

Forcibly reminding herself that she had too much at stake to risk finding out, she sidestepped around him. “Thanks for the warning. A girl can never be too careful.”

Shayna dillydallied in her room for as long as she dared. She dressed, deciding on her favorite jeans (the magical ones that made her look like she had long legs) and her new orange silk-and-cashmere blend sweater. Telling herself it was all about the holiday spirit, she put a little extra effort into her makeup and ditched her regular braid in favor of a softer twist.

She didn’t know what irked her more-that she’d lied about his presence or that Kyle had called her on it. She honestly hadn’t wanted to risk upsetting Lindy, but more than anything, she didn’t want everyone and their brother to find out she’d been stranded with Kyle.

It wouldn’t take long for tongues to start wagging. Her neighbors would speculate about them entertaining themselves horizontally, even though Shayna had never been the casual fling type. But truth be told, had Kyle been stranded here for any other reason, goodness knew the speculation would have been dead-on. She wanted that irritating man something fierce.

If she didn’t find some way to establish stronger boundaries, she would likely become so distracted by her attraction that Kyle could talk her into anything.

Rising worry propelled her into action. She had to get control of her rampant hormones. The next forty-eight hours were critical. She had to stay focused, she had to maintain a safe distance and mostly, she had to find a way to get Kyle-and Walker-out of her life. Pronto.

How the heck would she accomplish such a monumental task? First, no more mooning over her sexy houseguest. That would lead to nothing but trouble, and she certainly didn’t need any more of that.

Step two, figure out how the heck to turn down Walker’s crazy proposal and cut all ties with him and Patty.

Easy as pie, right?

While she waited for inspiration to strike, she’d just have to march down there, park Kyle in front of the football games and sequester herself in the kitchen.

Not the greatest game plan, but somehow, she’d have to make it work. Grabbing her nearly finished Ms. Noel costume, she headed downstairs, delightfully surprised by the roaring fire and the scrumptious aroma of sautéing onions. The rattle of pots and pans led her to the kitchen, where she found Kyle standing at the stove, his back to her. Brinks noticed her presence first and raced over, calling her to the man’s attention. He turned, his face flushed from the heat of the stove.

His eyes slowly roamed up and down her body. Feeling more exposed than she had last night in her gaping robe, she forced herself to stand steady under his heated regard, despite the heavy warmth invading her belly. She had to keep these blasted reactions hidden or he’d pounce like a mountain lion feasting on a scared rabbit.

“Nice.” A muscle trembled along his whiskery jawline as he turned back to the sizzling pan.

That single, soft-spoken syllable affected Shayna more than a bucketful of flowery words ever could. She had to lick her suddenly parched lips before she could respond. “Thanks.”

She dropped her hand onto Brinks’s head and rubbed behind his ears. His liquid brown eyes stared up at her. One side of his mouth was hooked on his teeth. The look seemed to say, “Go on. I’ve got your back.”

Putting on her game face, Shayna tossed the costume onto the table and headed for the sink. “You look like an old pro in here,” she commented as she washed her hands.

He shrugged. The movement’s forced nonchalance reminded her of the foster care children she worked with at the County Community Center. They craved praise and encouragement but got it so rarely that when they did they rejected it. “I’ve been cooking since I was a teenager.”

“Did your mother teach you?”

“No,” he said bitterly. “She wasn’t what you’d call the domestic type.”

Again, she was taken aback by the reminder that she’d so misjudged his background. The man had done an awesome job of washing away all the visible signs of his less than stellar childhood. “So where’d you learn?”

“In high school, I worked nights at a greasy diner.” With a smooth flick of his wrist, he slid slices of the bell peppers she’d picked this morning into the sizzling pan. “By the time I got to college, I had landed a position as line cook at a posh supper club.”

She could easily picture him maturing, both in age and in skill, and working his way up the food-service ladder. Guess he came by that bulldog determination naturally.

“Lucky me, getting stranded with a man who can cook,” she joked, wanting to steer clear of the past. Very dangerous territory. “So, what’s on the menu?”

“Corn chowder, broccoli and rice, beer bread, baked apples, ham and green bean casserole.”

“Sounds yummy. And complicated. And way beyond the capabilities of me and my poor neglected pantry.”

“All those fresh vegetables are the key. And I found all kinds of good stuff in the freezer. Your green thumb has saved the day.” His lips curled, his eyes twinkled, his delicious dimple teased. The look was pure charm.

Good. Charisma she could handle. It was the notion that he’d try to get at her with honest commiseration that she worried about.