The front door opened and a man stepped in. Jo recognized Will Falk and didn’t know if she was pleased or annoyed.

“How’s it going?” he asked as he moved toward her, his stride uneven.

“Good.” She set a napkin on the bar. “What can I get you?”

“I came by to see if I could help put the toys together.”

“Already done. We had two kids in at lunch today and they had a great time.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He slid onto a barstool. “I’ll take a beer. What you have on tap. Want to join me?”

“I don’t drink while I’m working.”

“I’m not that much work.”

She gave him a slight smile. “Sorry, no.”

He was a nice enough guy. Probably decent, the kind of man who enjoyed sports, a home-cooked meal and twice-a-week sex. She’d learned to make quick but accurate judgments about people. She would guess he didn’t cheat at cards or on women, that he had plenty of friends and a strong moral code.

He wasn’t anyone she could get involved with. She’d yet to meet someone she could, but Will was definitely out of the question.

She put the tall glass of beer in front of him and started toward the other end of the bar.

“Is it the limp?”

The question stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly, then returned to stand in front of him.

“No.”

He shrugged. “Some women don’t like it. They’re into perfect.”

“That’s not me. I don’t find perfect appealing.”

“Okay. Then what is it?”

He was attractive, she thought. Normal. Lately her friends had been falling for normal, nice guys. She envied them.

“What happened?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“Construction accident. Fell off the side of a bridge. Nearly broke every bone in my body. Took a long time to get better.”

She sensed there was more to the story. He must have spent weeks or months in the hospital, hundreds of hours in physical therapy.

“Do you have a lot of pain now?”

“I know when it’s going to rain, but I’m okay.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Want to see my scars?”

She found herself wanting to say yes. To tease him back, to let her guard down for a few minutes. To remember what it was to be like everyone else.

“Maybe another time.”

“I’m here for a couple of years. I have plenty of time.”

“But then you’ll go to a different project?”

He nodded. “Nature of the business. I’ve seen most of the world. Travel is exciting.”

“I prefer staying in one place,” she said, admitting a truth before she could stop herself. “It took a lot of looking to find this town.”

“What do you like about it?”

“The people. They’re very warm. As is the climate. It’s a great location.”

What she didn’t tell him was that here she was allowed to pretend it all was real. That she was just like everyone else, that her past had never happened. Here she was simply Jo, the owner of Jo’s Bar.

“So, show me,” he said. “I’m the new guy. Don’t I at least deserve a tour?”

She looked at him. For once, she was tempted to give in and flirt. To touch and be touched. It had been years since she’d been with a man. Years since she’d allowed herself to be that vulnerable. Last time the consequences had destroyed people. Because of her great need to love and be loved, a man had died.

“I can’t,” she said abruptly. “It’s not about you — it’s not personal. I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be.”

Will nodded slowly, then got up from the stool. He tossed a ten on the bar.

“The drink’s on the house,” she said stiffly.

“No, thanks. I only accept drinks from my friends.”

With that he left. She watched him limp out. When the door closed behind him, her stomach lurched and she wondered if she was going to throw up.

She’d hurt him, she knew that. Just as painful, she’d hurt herself. But she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t take a chance. This time, there would be too much to lose.



“I LOVE THIS TOWN,” Tucker said, as he closed the email. “They’ve approved our permits ahead of schedule.” He looked across the small trailer toward Nevada. “Did you have anything to do with it?”

“While I’d love to take credit, no. I’ve told you. Everyone is very excited about the project. You’re bringing jobs and tourists to the area. Where’s the bad?”

Her words made sense, but the ease with which everything was moving forward made him a little apprehensive. Every job he’d ever been on had problems. He preferred them to be up-front, so he could deal with them and move on.

“Don’t worry,” she told him.

“Worrying makes me good at my job.” He stood and crossed to the coffeepot. “Want some?” he said, holding up the full pot.

“Sure.”

She rose and carried her mug toward him. He moved toward her. She moved left, he moved right, which meant they went in the same direction and nearly bumped. She backed up with comical speed.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“You’re a little jumpy.”

“I’m not.” She sounded more defensive than indignant.

“It’s a small trailer. We’re going to bump into each other.”

“I’m aware of that and it’s not a problem.”

“You’re acting like it’s a problem.”

Defensiveness turned into annoyance. “You’re reading too much into the situation,” she snapped.

“Am I?”

Her chin rose. “You are.” She held out her mug. “Could I have my coffee, please?”

“I think you’re attracted to me and you don’t know how to handle it.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Are you insane?”

“I’ve never been evaluated by a professional, but I’m thinking no.”

“This is all about what happened before. We agreed to let that go.”

He filled her mug, set the pot back in place, then leaned against the corner of Will’s desk. Teasing her was more fun than he’d expected.

“I’m not the one who brought it up.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“I wasn’t. But you have been. A lot.”

Color stained her cheeks. “Not in the way you think. You’re trying to prove something. Well, you can’t. I’m over you and—”

She stopped talking and pressed her lips together.

“Over me?”

“Shut up,” she demanded.

“Over me?”

“I swear, Tucker, I’ll pull an Ethan on you.”

“This is getting more interesting by the minute.” He liked where their conversation was going. “You’re saying that you were attracted to me before.”

She set down her mug and folded her arms across her chest. Her brown eyes snapped with irritation. “I slept with you. What did you think?”

“I am pretty irresistible.”

“Not today.”

“You’re still attracted to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “What is with you? We work together. It’s a long-term project. Why are you trying to be difficult?”

“It comes naturally to me.”

“I’m not attracted to you.”

He winked. “It’s okay. You can tell me. I’ll keep your secret. You want me.”

“Only so I can back the car over you.”

He was curious about how much of her indignation was real and how much was self-protection. She was wary around him, something he wouldn’t have expected. Did she feel the chemistry between them, too?

He did his best to remind himself that they were working together and this was a complication neither of them needed. Still, Nevada was smart, funny, sexy and willing to go toe-to-toe with him. No way he could ignore that.



“GO AHEAD,” HE SAID SOFTLY. “Kiss me. Come on, get it out of your system and you’ll be able to concentrate.”

“I can concentrate just fine,” Nevada told him, her teeth gritted. “Your ego is the size of Mars.”

“I have big hands, too.”

She groaned. “Go away.”

“Chicken.”

“I’m not chicken, I’m sensible.”

Hanging on to self-control was proving more of a challenge than Nevada would have thought. For reasons she couldn’t explain Tucker pushed buttons she didn’t even know she had. As much as she wanted to hit him really, really hard in the stomach, she wanted to kiss him just as much. Maybe more.

Even more inexplicably, she hadn’t been thinking about kissing him until he’d mentioned it. Now the idea filled her brain, making her toes curl and her insides quiver with anticipation. Talk about crazy.

He made a clucking sound.

“Stop it!” she demanded. “Make me.”

There was something to be said for a man who knew how to play, she thought, grabbing on to his shoulders, raising herself onto her toes and leaning in. Something good. Something that—

Her lips touched his. In that split second of contact, she felt as if she’d been transported out of the temperature-controlled trailer and drop-kicked into Mississippi in August. There was heat everywhere. Intense, muggy heat — the kind that clung to your skin and didn’t let go for three days.

The air felt heavy, just like her body. Her blood was thick, but still moving quickly, carrying need to every part of her.

She drew back and stared at him. His dark eyes were unreadable.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he asked softly.

“No.”

She leaned in again and tilted her head slightly. Her mouth settled on his. The heat came again and she found herself wanting to rip off her clothes. Not only to cool her body, but so Tucker could touch her.

She felt tingly and ached in the most interesting places. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to pull him hard against her. She wanted to run her fingers up and down his chest, to dip lower and find out if he was feeling what she was feeling.

Instead she kept still, not moving her mouth, not trying to deepen the contact. Her intent had been to give him the kiss he would never forget. Only she couldn’t. She was too afraid of how she would react.

She straightened, pulling away, aware he would probably tease her again. This time she didn’t know how she was going to defend herself, because kissing him wasn’t an option. Not when a simple, platonic peck had left her trembling. What would happen if he made any effort at all?

“Happy?” she asked, turning away and walking back to her desk.

“Very.”

She drew in a breath and told herself to stay strong. “It’s all about you and your ego, isn’t it?” she asked, facing him.

He looked bemused and a little stunned. “It was back then. Now it’s different.”

They stared at each other. She didn’t ask why, because she was as afraid of the answer as she was of kissing him again. If he’d felt it, too, if he’d been on the verge of losing control, then they were in big trouble. Better not to risk it by going there at all.

Last time…

No, she told herself firmly. There had been too much remembering. She wasn’t going to do that anymore.

“We need to go over the blasting schedule,” she said, randomly pulling a piece of paper off her desk and hoping it was relevant. “It requires coordination with several agencies, including the Fool’s Gold Fire Department. I’m happy to coordinate with them, if you want.”

“Sure. That would be great.”

“It’s my first time,” she said, then held in a groan. “I mean, I’ve never been on-site with blasting before.”

“It’ll rock your world.”

Despite feeling uncomfortable and awkward and more than a little scared, she laughed. “I’m not sure I need my world rocked.”

“Try it. You might like it.”

His gaze was steady, his expression open. She wanted to walk over and kiss him again. She wanted to know how much more she could feel in his arms, figure out what else he could do to her body.

Except that would be beyond stupid. Job first, fantasies second, she told herself as she dropped into her chair and turned her attention to her computer. But instead of the report on the screen, what she saw was the fireworks she’d experienced and the black cloud of impending doom should she ever give in.

The problem wasn’t Tucker. The problem was her. She hadn’t been able to resist him ten years ago and back then he hadn’t even been trying. What was she supposed to do if he decided he wanted to do more than play?

The man was leaving in a year, she reminded herself. More important, he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in ever settling down. For her, home was everything. He’d already broken her heart once. Did she really need a second lesson from the likes of Tucker Janack? Logically, he was a bad choice. She wondered how long she would have to keep telling herself that before she would start to believe.