Honey woke just as dawn broke. In the gray light, she knew instantly that she was alone, and she didn’t have a clue when True had left the bed.

She was glad he wasn’t here, because she’d made a mistake. How fucked up was she? True wasn’t Kenny, and yet her husband had been here in the bed with them. She’d dragged him here, comparing the two. Asking True to fill the void Kenny’s passing had left, if only for the short time they’d screwed.

She hadn’t been fair to True. She should have kept her mouth shut, given him a smile and taken everything he’d offered. But she’d been greedy. She’d wanted it all—the closeness, the feeling of being cherished and loved.

God, she had to get out of here before she saw him again, but that was going to be difficult when she needed someone to take her home.

Honey showered in a hurry, dressed in the clothes she’d packed, and then silently crept through the house. Why? She wasn’t sure. True and Lonny were ranchers and had likely been up for a couple of hours already. She wasn’t going to wake them, but she didn’t want to alert either that she was up, not until she had a chance to put on a happier face.

Hell. She’d have to brazen it out, pull H.A. Cahill’s boldness around her, pretend that last night hadn’t been earth-shattering.

When she crept into the living room, her shoulders fell. Lonny sat on the couch, already dressed for the weather outside. He held a knit cap in his hands, twirling it in his fingers until he saw her. His glance looked her up and down, and he stood. “I’ll take you home.”

“True ask you to?” she said, her throat tightening in disappointment.

“Yeah, said you might need a little space.” His lips thinned into a narrow line. “Are you all right? I thought you two would get along. Did he hurt you?”

Honey shrugged, not able to hold his gaze for more than a second. “He didn’t hurt me. I…it was all my fault. But I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“To me?”

“To anyone. Not right now.”

He nodded and strode to the door. There, he lifted her jacket off the tree and held it for her as she slipped her arms inside. She zipped up and moved away while he lifted her bag and headed outside. She grabbed her snow pants and followed.

The temperature had dropped. A sharp wind rustled tree branches and stirred last night’s snow. Lonny’s vehicle sat in front of the porch, and he climbed on then held out a hand to help her mount behind him. She tucked her pants under her bag and slid behind him.

The trip was mercifully short. He pulled up to the porch and began to dismount, but she was already pulling her gear from under the bungee cord on the back of the seat. “Don’t bother, I can manage.”

“But you’ll need help with the stove.”

She didn’t want him inside. His presence would only remind her of how she’d let down her guard and invited him to touch her the last time. “I’m an expert now,” she said, giving him a tight smile.

“Look, if you need anything…”

“There’s the phone. I’ll call. Promise.”

He didn’t look happy but nodded and pulled away.

She climbed up the steps and opened her door. Inside, the air was freezing, and she hurried to the stove, adding kindling and striking a long match. When the kindling caught, she fed the fire a couple of the logs.

The stove was lit, the air slowly warming. She took off her coat and hung it on the peg. She’d give her computer a chance to thaw before she opened up her story and started back to work.

While she waited, she shuffled through the kitchen, starting coffee and eating an energy bar. Anything to keep busy and not think about how True had looked when he’d tipped up her chin and asked her what was wrong.

He’d just tried to be kind. But she’d melted. And she hadn’t been able to admit it to herself at the time, but he’d scared her, because she’d wanted to latch on to that hint of tenderness and make it into so much more. She’d fought her instincts and had muddled everything up. He had to be confused. He’d thought he was getting a sexpot writer in his bed, and instead he’d gotten a basket case.

That her emotions were so close to the surface disappointed her. She was ready to move on and take a new lover. That part of her life couldn’t be over. She hoped he’d give her another chance, because she remembered how’d he’d been, how gentle and gruff, how masterful…and how well he’d filled her.

The sound of crackling logs stirred her from the counter, and she strode toward the furnace, ready to add enough wood to last the morning. She bent and opened the door.

Yellow-orange flame billowed out, and she jumped back, but the fire caught the scarf she’d forgotten she was still wearing, causing it to crackle and curl. Frantically, she pulled it from her neck and flung it away, then stepped back.

Christ, how many times had Lonny told her to be careful opening the door?

Crackling behind her, louder now, drew her glance. She looked behind her, and her heart stopped. The scarf had fallen on the sofa beneath the window. Flames licked at the throw and raced up to the curtains. Smoke was beginning to fill the room.

She lurched toward the table, grabbed her thumb drive, and bent to get beneath the smoke. The door was her only exit, she didn’t have much time. The fire was running across the walls, scorching the ceiling. She didn’t have time to reach for her coat. She swung open the door, and frigid fresh air rushed into the room, feeding the flames that licked at the top of the doorframe. She ducked, raised both arms to protect her head, and plunged through the door, coughing. She fell down the steps, and scurried away on her hands and knees, not halting until she was several feet away. Gasping, she climbed to her feet and turned back to see flames in the window catching the wood frame, licking up the roof and igniting the cedar shingles.

Fascination kept her rooted to the spot even though her boots sank deep into the snow. Flames, yellow, orange and red, could be seen through the window. The whisper of the fire as it consumed more fuel grew into a roar.

Shivering in the snow, she watched in horror as the fire leapt across the roof to the lean-to beside the house, the one where the gasoline for the generator was stored.

That realization, at last, pushed her to move. She turned and ran as fast as she could, feet sinking in snow, down the road toward the Wyatt brother’s house. Shock receded from her mind, and she realized how much trouble she was in. Already shivering hard, without a coat or gloves, she stood a good chance of freezing to death before she reached safety.

Honey shoved away that thought. She wasn’t going to die. She wasn’t going to lose a single finger either. She needed those to type. Shoving her hands under her arm pits, she slowed and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. She’d get there.

No way in hell would she die and let True have his final proof that she’d never belonged here in the first place.

True gunned the engine, enjoying the burst of power and speed, not even minding the frigid wind that blew past him. He’d needed to get away from the house, from the woman sleeping in his bed.

Once she’d fallen asleep, Honey had snuggled up close against his side. He’d enjoyed her mingled scents—something floral, feminine musk, and sex—and had decided not to bathe before heading out because he’d wanted to let Honey’s smell linger just a little longer on his skin.

Not that he needed any reminders of what it had been like to be with her. She’d fit just right, her head on his shoulder, her hip snuggled against the side of his, her hand lying on his belly. He’d lifted it cautiously, not wanting to wake her, and measured the length of her small fingers against his. She was small and delicate, and yet she’d taken everything he’d given her.

Shame washed over him. He hadn’t been as patient as he should have been. She’d had things on her mind, memories so haunting he’d seen the shadows in her eyes, and he’d wanted to obliterate every one of them. Wanted to imprint himself on her.

But she wasn’t his to keep. He hadn’t the right to expect her to cleave to him alone, to forget about any other man she’d known before. And did he really want that?

He’d only dozed after that, waking to think about what he ought to do for her, how he could make it up to her. He’d wrestled with his own jealousy, his own hang-ups, but had concluded he needed to have a talk with his brother.

He drew close to the crest of the ridge and considered heading to her place. However, he still wasn’t sure what he’d say to her. Maybe he’d start by saying he was sorry.

The sound of another engine coming up behind him made him slow. Lonny pulled up alongside him. “I took her home.”

True nodded, ignoring Lonny’s expression. His brother had a bone to chew, but True wasn’t in the mood. “How was she?”

“Brittle,” Lonny bit out. “She wouldn’t look me in the eye.”

True’s stomach sank. “I’ll go see her.”

Lonny gave him a stinging glare. “If I were you, I’d give her some time alone.”

True clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to listen to Lonny’s advice, but his baby brother was better at reading women’s moods. “Guess we should head back.” Much as it killed him, he’d give Honey time to think about whether she wanted to see him again rather than bulldoze his way through her objections. He twisted the throttle. The snowmobile shot forward.

True glanced up at the ridge. “What the fuck?”

It had to have been a branch, a shadow…something other than what he suspected, but already he could smell it on the air.

Smoke.

He turned to Lonny, who rode beside him. “Honey!” he shouted, punching a finger toward the plume.

Lonny’s glance whipped toward the sky.

They crested the ridge. True’s stomach dropped. The cabin was fully engulfed. He searched the clearing but didn’t see a sign of Honey. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He started forward, but Lonny cut in front of him, halting him. “The lean-to, bro,” he shouted.

An explosion rocked the clearing. Burning timbers flew into the sky.

True ducked, raising an arm against the bright light, but as soon as the debris crashed to the ground, he was speeding down the hill, hell-bent for the cabin. Staring at the flames, at the smoke billowing out of the broken windows, his heart thudded dully against his chest. No one could live through that.

He pulled up next to the house, killed the engine, and swung his legs over the side.

“True,” Lonny shouted over the roar of the fire.

True couldn’t let his brother stop him. He lurched toward the steps.

Lonny tackled him, taking him to the ground. “Honey’s not in there. Fuck, quit fighting me. She’s not in the cabin.”

That last bitten-out sentence got through, and True stopped bucking.

Lonny rolled off him then grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. Breathing hard, Lonny pointed to a set of tracks leading away from the cabin—tracks two small feet in ridiculous boots had made.

He climbed back on the snowmobile and sped down the trail.

Rounding a bend, he found her, walking with her head bent against the wind, hands tucked under her arms.

He cut the machine and climbed off. He unzipped his jacket and walked up behind her. She didn’t seem to hear him, didn’t flinch or react when he gripped her arms, one at a time, and shoved them into the sleeves of his coat. He turned her.

Her face was smudged with soot. Her eyes vacant.

“Let’s get her to the ranch house,” Lonny said. “We can’t warm her up here.”

True zipped up the jacket then climbed onto the snowmobile. Lonny swept her up and handed her to True, who draped her over his lap. The wind bit his ears and nose, but he couldn’t worry about that now. Honey hadn’t said a word.

The ride to the ranch house took only minutes but felt like an eternity to True. At the steps, Lonny pulled her off his lap and carried her inside. True followed, shutting and latching the door, then headed straight to the fireplace. It took several minutes to build a fire, but by that time Lonny and Honey had disappeared.

He found the two of them in Lonny’s bathroom. His brother had stripped her and set her in the tub. True hovered in the doorway, wanting to shove Lonny aside, but not knowing if he was what Honey needed right now.

Lonny glanced up and then rose from where he’d been kneeling beside the tub.

“I started a fire,” True said, surprised his voice sounded hoarse.

Lonny nodded. “I’ll hunt up something for her to wear. Gradually warm up the water.”

True stood aside while his brother left then turned all his attention to Honey.

She sat shivering in the bathtub, her shoulders bowed, her lips pale, and her head down.

He tipped the toilet seat closed and sat on it. Then dipped his fingers in the water. It was tepid. “Are you ready for me to add some hotter water, sweetheart?”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around her knees, hiding her body. “S-sorry,” she stammered.

True shook his head then gave in to the temptation to touch her. He combed back her hair from her face then tucked a finger under her chin to lift it. “I thought you were inside,” he rasped. “Nothing else matters.”

Her lips curved downward, but he could see the relief in her eyes.

“Are you hurt?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “Just cold.” She tipped the stopper with her toe to drain more water. Then she gave him a pointed look.

He almost smiled at her show of spirit, small as it was. “Yeah,” he said, turning on the tap. “That was quite a fireworks display you put on.”

“I f-fucked up. I swung open the furnace door…”

He nodded, pretending calm when he could picture it all too clearly. “You’re lucky you didn’t burn yourself.”

“M-my scarf caught f-fire, and I flung it away. Flames caught the throw and the curtains. Didn’t have time to get anything except my thumb drive.”

“You saved your book?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Guess I should have gone for the coat instead, huh?” she said glumly.

“A coat might have been more practical.” He tested the water and shut off the tap again. When he met her gaze, he drew a deep breath. “I’m thinking this is all my fault.”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Because you didn’t kick me off your mountain yesterday?”

“Because I didn’t keep you in my bed.”

“Oh.” Her gaze fell away.

He cursed under his breath. He’d reminded her of what a bastard he’d been.

A knock sounded, and Lonny stuck his head inside the door. “I’ll leave the clothes on the bed out here.”

“No,” True said. “I’ll see about getting some food heated up. Get her dressed.” He lunged to his feet and pushed past Lonny, ignoring his scowl.

Behind him, Lonny said, “Honey, you ready to come out?”

His chest heavy, True moved through the house like an old man. Why did it matter to him that his brother was dressing a woman they both barely knew? Maybe he was suffering some sort of delayed reaction now that adrenaline wasn’t spiking through his blood. He was relieved Honey hadn’t been injured, or worse. He’d have felt guilt and remorse if she’d been inside that house. Nothing more. They were strangers. Intimate strangers, sure, but she wasn’t part of his life. Not part of his future. He’d do well to remember that.

Honey sat huddled under a blanket on the couch Lonny had moved nearer the fire. He’d found a pair of insulated leggings for her to wear that fit her well enough. Her ass kept them from falling off. The sweater was large, and fell off whichever shoulder she shrugged, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Her own clothing was salvageable and was in the laundry, but she’d save them for her trip off the mountain once the snowplows cleared the road.

Lonny had checked with the department of transportation and said it might be several days before she could leave. And she was determined to do just that—despite his assurances that she could stay and complete the work she’d come to do.

However, that seemed pointless. She’d saved the thumb drive, but she didn’t have the heart to finish the new story. She was supposed to write something sexy and flirty, but all she had the urge to create was a tragedy.

She knew she was feeling sorry for herself, and she should pull up her big-girl panties and get on with it. Hell, she didn’t have any panties on.

“I have soup.”

She jumped at True’s quiet words. The man could creep up on a ghost. And was that all he had to say? Seriously?

Honey bit back a retort, recognizing that what she really wanted was to start a fight with him. She held out her hand and waited while he turned the mug to present her the handle.

A small gesture, but one that fucked with her head. Why be gentle? Why pretend to care whether she burned her fingers? She’d burned down his entire cabin—his quaint little hunting cabin that his father had built years ago. Why wasn’t he furious?

She gulped down a sip of chicken soup and blinked.

“Couldn’t you tell it was hot?”

She blinked away pain-filled tears and aimed a blistering glare his way.

True’s jaw clenched. “I’ll leave you to finish.” He began to turn away.

She bent to set the cup on the floor. “Why are you avoiding me?” If she could have bit her own tongue and swallowed it whole, she would have.

True hesitated. “You’ve been through enough.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit—” She glanced away. She wasn’t going to cuss at the man. Wasn’t going to make herself look any more pathetic than she already was.

“I’m guessing now’s not a good time to check on our girl.”

Both Honey and True turned to glare at Lonny whose mouth moved like he was biting his lip. Was he laughing at them?

“Don’t disappear,” True said. “I can’t seem to get anything right.”

“No kidding,” Honey muttered.

Lonny walked deeper into the room, glancing from Honey to True. “I take it you’re feeling more yourself, Honey?”

“I’ve never been less myself,” she snarled.

“I don’t know about that,” he said amiably. “The color’s back in your cheeks.”

Honey hit her thigh with her fist. “I don’t shout at men. I don’t ever want to shout at men. But he—” She glared at True. “He manages to push every last one of my buttons.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Lonny asked softly. He took a seat beside her. “Quit hovering, True. Take a seat.”

True looked reluctant but took up the space on her left side. Wedged between the two brothers, Honey blew out a deep breath. The temperature in the room had skyrocketed. She flipped back her blanket.

True reached for the edge and shoved it over her shoulder.

“I’m warm enough,” she muttered.

“You’ll get sick.”

“And that would be a huge inconvenience on top of the hundred other inconveniences I’ve caused, wouldn’t it?”

True nodded, but her searing glance had him buttoning his lip and glancing away. “I should head out to check on the horses in the barn.”

“They’ll wait,” Lonny said flatly.

Honey flung up her hands. “I can assure both of you that I’m fine. No need for you to worry. If you’ll just show me where I can sleep…”

Lonny laid a hand on her knee and leaned toward her. “That’s part of what we’re going to talk about, sweetheart.”

She narrowed her eyes to give him a mean glare even though inside her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. “Oh, yeah?”

“True mentioned what you’re writing.”

True muttered a curse under his breath.

Honey’s cheeks burned. “Anyone ever tell you that you two are big fat gossips?”

“Not ever. Don’t change the subject. A ménage, right?”

“I changed my mind,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ve decided to scrap the book. Now, I’m going to write a post-apocalyptic story—lots of blood and guts. I’m feeling pretty violent at the moment.”

“I think you need to do the right research.”

“Oh, really?” She wouldn’t admit it even on her dying bed, but just the thought of doing a little research made her heart flutter madly.

“You can count me out,” True said forcefully.

“Not to your taste, I know,” Lonny said, so cheerfully he made Honey want to scream. “You mentioned that before.”

Honey kept her gaze on Lonny, because she was way too chicken to look at True. “You two talked about doing a ménage with me? Is anything sacred?”

He jogged his eyebrows. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“You know damn well I’m not wearing any.”

“Dammit.”

That did it. Honey swung toward True. “Do you know any other cuss words?”

“His vocabulary’s limited,” Lonny quipped.

She lifted her chin when True’s gaze narrowed. “So I noticed,” she said, keeping her tone even.

“Be nice,” Lonny chided.

She grunted and faced forward again. “Sorry.”

“Back to the ménage…”

True stirred beside her, and she felt his thighs tense like he was going to rise. Without looking at him, Honey laid her hand on his thigh and pressed down. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“There ought to be a few rules,” Lonny continued. “Things each one of us won’t do.”

“Like swords never crossing,” she quipped.

“For fuck sake,” True ground out. “Did either of you hear what I said? Not interested.”

“If I believed that for a minute, I’d lay off.” All humor was gone from Lonny’s voice.

Honey held her breath, waiting…

True’s thigh stayed tense beneath her hand. His breaths deepened.

“Personally, I’d just as soon not ‘cross swords’ as Honey suggested,” Lonny said slowly.

Honey drew in a deep breath. “I’d just as soon not be tied down.”

Both men pinned her with a glance.

She shrugged. “I like to touch.”

True jerked but didn’t try to rise.

“You got any aversions, True?” Lonny said.

True stayed silent for a long moment. “I’m the only one who fucks her pussy.”

Honey bit back a groan.

“Crude, but to the point,” Lonny murmured. “Leaves lots of fun stuff still on the table.”

“I haven’t agreed,” she said. She wanted to say yes, wanted to so badly she was squeezing her thighs together. However, more was on the line than a simple sexy romp. She could feel the undercurrents stirring in the room. “I’m not a whore. Doesn’t matter what I write.”

True’s hand covered hers resting on his thigh. His thumb swept over the back. He breathed a deep sigh. “Just once then. Because you’re curious. Because I can’t stop from fucking up. And because I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing.”

“Yes, I do. When we’re done, you and I are gonna talk.”

Honey swallowed at his quiet intensity. “What if I freak out again?”

“You didn’t freak out. You were a little scared is all. Lonny’s good at chasing away shadows.”

Honey darted a glance True’s way, and their gazes locked. Something hot and fierce raged in his eyes. “I don’t want us to be over,” she whispered.

His expression softened, and he leaned toward her. “Baby, I promise we’re far from done.”