Angus opened the back door and waited while the boy stepped out. As they walked down the steps, Dalton slipped his little hand into Angus’s and smiled up at him, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Angus’s chest tightened. He could get used to having a little guy like this around. The child found joy in just being there, and Angus found that joy to be more than a little infectious.

Five minutes later, Angus had the gentlest mare on the ranch tied to a post inside the barn and a saddle thrown over her back. Dalton stood at the mare’s nose, smoothing his hand over her muzzle, watching every move and asking questions as Angus cinched the girth. He was eager and smart as a whip. Like his mother.

“You two starting without me?” Gwen’s warm voice melted over Angus like hot butter on a roasted potato.

“Mama, this is Fancy. Isn’t she pretty?” Dalton called out, standing perfectly still as he’d been told.

Angus finished cinching the girth and let the stirrup fall into place before he turned to Gwen.

She wore the jeans his mother had loaned her tucked into the borrowed cowboy boots. The waistband was pulled tight with a belt around her narrow waist. But it was the blue chambray shirt tied at the waist, exposing a little skin at her midriff that gave Angus’s heart palpitations.

Gwen had rearranged her hair into a French braid at the back of her head. She looked so much like the college coed Angus had fallen in love with that the years rolled back and he almost pulled her into his arms and kissed her like he would have if it had been seven years ago.

But it wasn’t.

“Watch Dalton while I saddle another horse, will ya?” he said, his voice gruffer than he’d intended. This whole ordeal was going to be harder than he’d thought. How was he going to get through eight dates when he was having trouble with the first one with the kid?

Angus left the barn and walked out into the heat, welcoming the distance from Gwen. He needed a minute or two to get his shit together before he went back in the barn. For once Joe, the bay gelding he would ride that day, didn’t play Keep-Away. He came right up to Angus and nuzzled his chest as if sensing the human’s unrest.

Angus snapped the lead on his halter. “At least you don’t have girl troubles.”

The horse snorted.

“You’re right. Neither did I until last night. But what can I do?”

Joe gave him a gentle shove toward the barn.

“Okay, okay.” Angus smoothed a hand over the gelding’s nose. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were working with my mother on this matchmaking thing. Well, just get it out of your mind. I’m not interested in long term.”

Joe tossed his head and whickered, the sound more like laughter than Angus cared to admit.

The horse seemed to know more about the future than he did.

Leading Joe, Angus returned to the barn and tied him up to the post next to the mare.

Gwen ran her hand across the sorrel’s neck. “Fancy’s beautiful. Is she one of the horses in your breeding program?”

He nodded. “She was my prime breeding mare until I retired her last year.”

“Will Dalton be riding with me?” Gwen asked. “It’s been years since I got on a horse.”

“You’ll have no problem picking it up again.” He remembered how natural she’d been when he’d taught her to ride. Her body moved with the animal’s rhythm. “But, no, the boy will ride with me.”

Once he had Joe saddled, Angus helped Gwen up on Fancy and then lifted Dalton onto Joe’s saddle. “Hang on to the horn.”

Placing his boot in the stirrup, Angus swung up into the saddle behind Dalton. The boy’s face split into a huge grin and stayed lit up the entire ride out across the pastures to the swimming hole where Angus had planned to have a private picnic, just he and Gwen.

Dalton was full of questions about the ranch, cattle, hay, snakes, coyotes and the clouds above. By the time they pulled the horses to a stop, Angus’s ears were sore from listening and he’d talked more than he normally talked for an entire month.

He swung down from the saddle and held up his arms for Dalton, who leaned out, trusting Angus to see him safely to the ground.

Once his boots hit dirt, the boy darted for the creek and the pool of water where Angus and Gwen had skinny-dipped on more than one occasion.

Gwen’s gaze rested on her son and the water beyond, her cheeks a pretty pink. Angus guessed she remembered too. Were her memories as clear and erotic as his?

He doubted it.

Taking Fancy’s and Joe’s reins, he tied them to saplings on the creek’s edge where they could get a drink of the cool, clear water. Then Angus rummaged in the saddlebag for the blanket and spread it out in the shade by the pool. He went back to the saddlebag for the sandwiches and bottled water.

Gwen glanced his way and nodded. “Dalton, it’s time to eat that sandwich you helped make.”

“Oh boy!” Dalton skipped to the blanket and sat cross-legged. Within minutes he’d gobbled down half of the sandwich, drunk some of the water and yawned.

Gwen patted the blanket beside her. “Lie down.”

“I’m not sleepy,” Dalton said and yawned again.

“Then lie down anyway and stare up at the clouds.” Gwen lay down beside him. “See that one?” she pointed. “It’s shaped like a boat.”

“I see it.” Dalton glanced at Angus. “Aren’t you going to lie down too?”

Angus smiled at the two, his heart swelling at the picture they made. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall right into that trap and wish he were a permanent part of that picture. When Dalton looked at him with those eager eyes, he couldn’t say no. He stretched out beside Dalton and stared up at the clouds. “I see a giraffe.”

He remembered playing that game with Gwen when they’d lain naked in the warm sun, drying off after a swim. Only the game never lasted long because they ended up making love and falling to sleep in each other’s arms.

After a few minutes of cloud gazing, Dalton’s eyes drifted shut and his breathing deepened.

Gwen lay for a few minutes more, then she rose and stretched her arms over her head, the movement raising the shirt up her torso, exposing more of her creamy, smooth skin.

Angus swallowed a groan, stood and checked on the horses.

When he turned around, Gwen had moved down the hill to the edge of the creek and sat on a rocky ledge, her boots beside her, her toes trailing in the water.

Angus fought his urge to go sit beside her and lost.

He passed the blanket where Dalton slept curled on his side, his cheeks flushed, a smile playing at his lips, probably dreaming about riding his own pony.

Angus stood next to Gwen for a long moment, staring at the water below with a yearning he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

“We had fun that summer, didn’t we?” she said softly.

He didn’t respond.

“What happened?” she looked up at him.

“You left.”

“I had to go back to school.”

He frowned. School was important and he didn’t begrudge her return, but he still felt the hurt of her leaving without saying a word. “You could have said goodbye.”

She turned, her brows furrowed. “I couldn’t do it without breaking down. I said it all in the letter and gave you my phone number and the address of my apartment.”

“What letter?”

“I slipped it into the back pocket of your jeans the last night we were together. We were here.” She waved her hand at the copse of trees, the creek and the pool. “You fell asleep before I did. I put the letter in your pocket for you to find later, after I’d gone.” Her eyes widened. “You didn’t get it?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“But it was in your jeans right where you’d find it.”

Those jeans probably went right into the wash. The letter would have disintegrated.

“As far as I knew, you slipped away in the night without so much as a kiss.”

“I had to go. I wouldn’t have left if you’d told me to stay.” She smiled, though her eyes were awash with unshed tears. “I guessed it wasn’t meant to be. When I hadn’t heard from you in weeks, I figured you weren’t all that in to me.”

Oh, but he had been. Everywhere he’d turned had reminded him of her. The ranch became a nightmare of reminders.

When his mother was diagnosed with cancer, he’d given up any thoughts of returning to Dallas and a fast track in his career, to contract as an architect from home on the ranch, giving him the latitude to gear up for the fight of his mother’s life. His father’s death was the reason he’d been home that summer he’d met Gwen. His mother’s diagnosis had been his reason for staying.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Gwen shrugged. “We were young. I’m a mother now, and I have to be focused on what’s good for Dalton.”

Angus sat beside her and tossed a rock into the water, disturbing the mirrorlike surface. The ripples spread out, diminishing the farther away they were from the point of contact. “What about what’s good for you?”

She sighed. “I can wait. Dalton needs me.”

“And you don’t need anyone?”

Gwen picked up a rock and tossed it into the water. “No.”

When she reached for another rock, Angus captured her hand. “If I’d known about the letter…”

“Would it have made a difference?”

“Probably not. My mother was diagnosed with cancer. After my father’s passing earlier that year I couldn’t leave. Things got a little crazy.”

“I’m happy your mother survived.” She sat with her hands clasped together in her lap, her lips pressed together, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. One escaped the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek, landing on her hand.

She stared down at the hand. “It’s all water under the bridge, right?” Slipping her hand out of his, she stood. Her hair had loosened on the ride and a strand curled around her cheek.

Angus rose and reached out to brush it back behind her ear like he had so many times before.

Gwen’s eyes widened and she stepped back quickly. “Don’t—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence because she’d stepped back too far and her heel came down on the curved edge of the stone ledge. Her body swayed backward, she flung out her hands and tilted toward the water.

Angus grabbed her hand and yanked her back from the edge, crushing her in his arms.

For a long moment Gwen rested her hands on his chest, her breath short and labored.

Angus’s heart beat hard against his ribs, his hands splayed across her back. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe for fear of spooking her, like a timid colt. If he stayed still, she wouldn’t remember that she didn’t want to be kissed and he could sneak in and…

Gwen tilted her head up, her hazel eyes smoky, her tongue slipping across her lips.

If she hadn’t done that, Angus was almost certain he could have resisted. But when that tongue slipped over her lips, his focus zeroed in and he had to taste them.

He lowered his head, but at the last minute remembered his promise not to kiss her unless she asked for it. Hovering over her mouth, he prayed for a miracle.

“Please,” she whispered.

That’s all it took and his lips connected with hers, his tongue pushing past her teeth to caress hers in a long, slow glide. He savored the flavor of her mouth, all minty and fresh, sexy, hot and moist. It wasn’t enough. He slid his mouth lower, blazing a path over her jaw.

When she tilted her head back, exposing the long, slender line of her neck, he took that as an invitation to go lower, nibbling her with his lips, tonguing her skin down to the pulse beating wildly at the base of her throat.

She circled her hands around his waist and down to cup his ass.

Sweet Jesus.

He remembered the way her cool fingers felt running across his naked skin, making him want to shed every piece of clothing and tear hers from her.

Running his hands up under her shirt, he nearly wept when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. His fingers found a distended nipple and he squeezed it, flicking it until it tightened into a hard bud. He stepped closer, nudging her thighs apart, his cock straining against the denim of his jeans.

The summer just got hotter and if he wasn’t careful he might burst into flame.

“We shouldn’t,” Gwen whispered against his ear, her hands saying the opposite as they slipped into the waistband of his jeans and slid down over his buttocks.

“You’re not making a good case for stopping,” he said, nibbling on her collarbone, his thumbs circling her nipples.

Her chest rose and fell on a sigh. “We have to. Dalton will wake up soon.”

The horses nickered as if to agree.

Gwen jerked away from him and shot a glance at her son sleeping on the blanket. Then she turned away from him and stared at the water. “I remember the first time we went skinny-dipping here.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

“So do I. I was shocked.”

She snorted. “You were so hot and horny I could practically smell the pheromones. If I hadn’t taken the first step and stripped naked, it wouldn’t have been long before you did it for me.”

His pulse pushed molten hot blood through his veins, his groin throbbing in remembrance. Angus stood behind Gwen and wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands splaying across her bare midriff. “Tell me to back off, and I will.”

“What about Dalton?”

“I can see him, but he won’t be able to see us if he wakes.”

Instead of pushing him away, she slid one of his hands inside the waistband of her jeans and down to the triangle of silk covering her mons.

Drawing in a ragged breath, Angus slipped his fingers beneath the wedge of fabric and curled his fingers into the tuft of silky curls.

Gwen’s breath caught on a gasp and she cupped his hand, urging him closer.

Taking her lead, he slid his finger between her folds and tapped the tip of her clit.

Her back arched into him and her head pressed against his chest. “I’m on freakin’ fire,” she moaned.

“Babe, that’s only the beginning.” His finger edged lower, dipping into her warm, wonderfully wet entrance and swirled. Then he returned to that strip of nerves he knew was her pleasure center. If she hadn’t changed in the past seven years, he knew if he made her happy there, she’d come apart.

Starting out slow, he alternated between stroking her clit and dipping into her juices, teasing her entrance. His cock grew as hard as concrete, pressing into her buttocks.

With Dalton sleeping up the hill behind them, Angus didn’t attempt to satisfy his own urges, but he could certainly satisfy Gwen’s. The faster he flicked and swirled, the more Gwen’s hips moved, undulating to the rhythm he set. Her breathing grew more ragged and her body tensed.

With a short, jerky movement, she grasped his other hand and shoved it beneath her shirt, giving him free rein over her breasts.

He pinched a nipple and thumbed the peaked tip.

“Oh man,” Gwen whispered, her voice strained, her hands cupping his, urging him to go faster, squeeze harder, dip deeper. He gave her one, then two, then three fingers, finger fucking her until she squirmed. Then her body went rigid and she stilled his hands with hers. “Wait.”

For a long moment, she stood as still as a statue, then her entire body shook with the force of her release, and the breath she’d been holding came out in a long, sexy moan. “Holy shit, Angus, that was incredible.”

He held her, one hand cupping her sex, the other squeezing a breast, basking in her afterglow, wishing he could lift her and settle her over his aching dick.

When she finally sucked in a deep breath and let it out, Angus lifted his head and glanced toward the blanket where Dalton was just sitting up, rubbing his eyes. “Um, party’s over.” He reluctantly removed his hands from her body.

Gwen stepped out of Angus’s arms, straightened her shirt and jeans and then hurried over to her son. “Hey, sleepyhead. Did you have a good nap?” If her voice was husky, Dalton didn’t notice.

But Angus did and his chest swelled. He walked to the creek and rinsed his hands in the cool water, tempted to submerge up to his waist to chill the hard-on pushing against his denim fly.

After several calming minutes, he turned back to the mother and son.

Gwen sat on the blanket, with Dalton on her lap, smoothing a hand through his hair. “Are you ready to head back?”

“No,” Dalton said, blinking in the sunshine. “I want to ride all day.”

“We can’t take up all of Mr. McFarlan’s time. He has chores to do.”

“I want to help with the chores. I’m strong.” Dalton lifted his arm and bunched his muscle. “See?”

Angus chuckled. “He is strong. But your mother’s right. We need to get back to the ranch. I have to feed these horses and a dozen others.”

Dalton pouted, but got up and helped his mother fold the blanket.

On the ride back, the boy leaned back against Angus, his body relaxed. “I like riding horses. Can we do this again?”

“You bet.” The boy’s trust in him and eager anticipation of another day together filled Angus with warmth he’d never experienced.

Dalton twisted in Angus’s lap to stare up at him. “Tomorrow?”

Angus smiled down at him. “It’s up to your mother.”

“We have to get back to Dallas so that I can get ready for work on Monday.”

“When can we come again?” he asked.

Angus stared over at Gwen. “Next Saturday?”

“Can we, Mama? Can we? Please?” Dalton gripped the saddle horn, excited but not so much so that he’d lose his seat.

Angus kept a firm hand around the boy’s middle to steady him.

“If it fits with Mr. McFarlan’s plans.”

“Does it?” Dalton stared up at Angus, his gaze wide and hopeful.

“Sure.” They’d reached the barnyard by then and Angus glanced across at Gwen. “Are you headed back to Dallas tonight?”

She shook her head. “I have the room at the bed-and-breakfast until the morning. I’d planned on staying one more night.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock.” Angus swung his leg over and dropped to the ground, reaching up to lift Dalton out of the saddle.

The little boy wrapped his arms around Angus’s neck and hugged him. “Thank you for taking me on my very first picnic.”

Angus’s heart skipped several beats. “Your first?” He looked over the boy’s head at Gwen.

She nodded. “We don’t get many opportunities to have picnics in Dallas.”

Angus set the boy on the ground and reached up for her.

Gwen let him grip her around the waist and lift her out of the saddle. But he didn’t set her on the ground right away. He let her slide down his body, his arms circling her. “Tonight?”

Her eyes flared and her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong?” He held her, refusing to let go. He liked that he was making the sophisticated Gwen nervous and confused. “Are you afraid?”

Her clear hazel gaze met his and she said, “Yes. I am. We can’t just pick up where we left off. Things aren’t the same. I’m not the same.”

“You didn’t answer.” He leaned in as if to kiss her, his mouth hovering over her lips, refusing to touch them. “Yes or no?”

“I don’t have a sitter.”

“I’ll ask my mother. She loves kids. Especially boys.”

She inhaled, her chest rising against his. She released the breath and said, “I’ll think about it. If I agree, I think we need to go back to the original plan: no kissing or sex.”

“I promise not to do anything you don’t want me to.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve already broken that promise.”

He grinned. “No I didn’t. If I recall, you asked me to kiss you. You even said please. I didn’t do anything you didn’t want me to do.” Setting her away, he gathered the horses’ reins and Dalton’s hand. “Come on, you can help me and your mama brush Fancy.”

“Really? I get to brush Fancy?” He trotted alongside Angus to keep up.

As they removed the saddles and groomed the horses, Angus couldn’t get over the domestic picture they made. He, Gwen and Dalton.

He regretted that they’d lost the past seven years. But regret wouldn’t bring them back. If he’d found that note in his back pocket, his life might have turned out a lot differently. If his mother hadn’t had cancer, he’d have gone after Gwen sooner. Now that he’d found her, and he’d learned that she hadn’t just walked out of his life, he wondered if there could be a future for them. It might take some convincing, but just maybe.

Gwen’s pulse wouldn’t slow, and she couldn’t think straight the entire time she spent brushing the horse and keeping Dalton from walking behind the mare’s backside and getting kicked. Every time she glanced up at Angus, she could feel the intensity of his gaze, and heat shot straight through to her aching, throbbing core.

By the time they were finished with the horses, her insides were so hot she wouldn’t have been surprised if she spontaneously combusted and burned the barn down. In the space of five minutes with Angus’s hands in her pants, she’d had the most intense orgasm she’d had in seven years. And, Lord help her, she wanted more.

Several times she had to remind herself to breathe so that she wouldn’t hyperventilate and pass out at the hooves of the mare. Dalton would be traumatized, wondering if she’d died or been hurt. How would she explain she was having heart palpitations from the aftereffects of being stroked by the tips of an orgasm-inspiring set of fingers?

As they walked back to the house, Gwen held Dalton’s hand. Dalton angled toward Angus and grabbed the big cowboy’s hand in his free one.

Her heart hurt. They looked so much like a family. But she couldn’t let herself believe that fairy tales really did come true. If she spent too much time with Angus, she risked falling for him all over again. And if things didn’t work out, it wouldn’t be just her getting hurt this time. She refused to let Dalton be the collateral damage of her lousy love life.

“Tonight,” Angus said as they climbed the porch steps.

“Tonight?” Mrs. McFarlan sat in the porch swing sipping a glass of iced tea. “Come sit with me, sweetie.” She patted the empty space next to her.

Dalton ran to the swing and climbed into the seat beside Angus’s mother.

The sight of him and the older woman together brought a lump to Gwen’s throat. Her parents had died in an auto accident three months before Dalton was born. He’d never know his grandparents and his father’s parents weren’t alive either. Gwen had looked them up only to discover they’d died before she’d even met Dalton’s father.

“Are you two going out tonight?” Mrs. McFarlan asked, her face open and all smiles.

“I don’t know,” Gwen stalled. Going out alone with Angus had heartache written all over it. “Maybe not tonight—”

“We will, if we can find a sitter for Dalton,” Angus said. “I don’t suppose you know someone who might be interested?”

“Dalton can stay with me,” his mother announced. “We can play horseshoes until dark or play cards until your mama comes back. What do you think, Dalton?”

“Can I, Mama? Please?” Dalton sat beside Mrs. McFarlan, perfectly at home with the woman. Gwen had been banking on the fact that Mona and Grant had another commitment and wouldn’t be able to watch Dalton while Gwen and Angus went out on the agreed-upon date. That would have given her time to tamp down her rising desire for the man. After the earth-shattering orgasm by the creek, she was still shaking with the amount of effort it had taken to force herself to break free of his embrace and pull herself together when Dalton woke. Physically breaking away hadn’t been so hard because Angus hadn’t been holding on too tight. He’d let go immediately.

Gwen hadn’t wanted to let go.

No no no.

She couldn’t do this. It was supposed to be all about Dalton. A night alone with Angus could prove disastrous.

“In fact,” Angus’s mother went on, “how would you like to stay the night on the ranch? You could build a tent in the living room out of old blankets and furniture.”

“Really? A tent in the house?” Dalton looked at Gwen. “I’m going to build a tent in the house.” He jumped out of the swing and grabbed Mrs. McFarlan’s hand, tugging hard to get her out of her seat.

“Now? I meant later. After the dinner Colin is going to fix.” She started for the door. “Oh well. I guess I could gather the blankets.” Pausing beside Gwen, she asked, “If it’s all right with you.”

Gwen raised her hands, feeling as if decisions were really being taken out of her hands and everything was moving too darned fast. “I wouldn’t dream of spoiling his fun. Yes.”

Dalton ran into the house, shouting at the top of his lungs. “Yay! Uncle Colin, we’re going to build a tent.”

Uncle Colin? Gwen’s heart tugged once again. Dalton didn’t have a single uncle or aunt. For the past six years since her parents’ deaths, it had only been Gwen and Dalton. She’d struggled to take care of him, taking off work when he was sick, shifting her schedule to make it to his sporting events and being there for him as much as possible. She was his mother, father and all the family he had. But she couldn’t be everybody, and she missed having an extended family. Dalton had so much love in his heart; he needed more people to love and be loved by. Perhaps she was depriving him by not remarrying and giving him and herself the extended family they both needed.

Gwen turned to Angus. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you at eight.” She entered the house, changed into her own clothing and would have left the jeans and shirt in the bathroom, but as she opened the door Mrs. McFarlan walked by with a stack of blankets.

“Oh, honey, keep those old clothes. Who knows where Angus will take you on a date. He can be so unconventional. It wouldn’t hurt to have a spare.”

Gwen left the house with the old jeans, a pair of slightly large cowboy boots and the shirt that smelled so much like Angus. She’d never be able to get rid of it. Likely she’d hug it every night before she went to sleep, wishing things had been different.

She had no idea how she’d make it through the evening without hugging the real thing. Damn it, if she wanted to maintain her sanity, she had to.

Who was she kidding? She didn’t have to be a psychic to see how doomed that plan was to failure.