Even an hour-long run couldn’t clear her mind of last night’s kiss. The way Dalton’s body melded to hers. How his hands sent sparks of awareness racing across her skin. His touch was the final thing she thought of last night and the first thing she had on her mind this morning.

He wanted to explore what happened between the beginning and the end. Had she ever had that? The last beginning she had was with the lead singer of Granite Soldiers.

The short fling started last summer when the band opened for her in Europe. Thankfully, it never went further than a few kisses. She’d shown up at his bus unannounced, only to find him the meat between two blonde honey buns.

She ran down Main Street toward the bakery, but the smell of coffee and bacon stopped her in front of the diner. It was Tuesday, which meant breakfast was served. She calculated the distance she had run and imagined she’d burned off enough calories for an egg or a bowl of oatmeal. Old habits were hard to break. Screw healthy eating. Today she’d have bacon and whatever else she wanted.

Swiping the sweat from her forehead, she ran her hand around the knit cap that imprisoned her hair. There were no escapees.

Through the swinging doors, she entered a different world. The diner was probably around when she lived here, but she and her mom didn’t eat out much. Restaurants were not in their budget. It was funny to think how far she’d come.

A woman approached. She’d recognize Dalton’s mom anywhere with her bouffant hairstyle and fire engine red lips. She realized Maisey Black in fact owned Maisey’s Diner. Why she hadn’t already put that together, she had no idea.

“Have a seat anywhere.”

“Thanks, Ms. Black.” Samantha looked around the near-empty eatery. The only occupied table was one in the corner. Tucked against the wall, an older man read his paper. The only thing visible was his white hair peeking out in tufts above the pages.

Samantha took the corner booth on the other side of the restaurant.

Maisey followed her, carrying an empty mug and a full pot of coffee. “It’s Bishop now… Do I know you?”

“Congratulations.” Besides Cannon and Bowie, there was only one Bishop remaining. She must have married Ben. “I doubt you know me, but I remember you. I lived here briefly with my mom, Yvette.”

She put the pot and cup on the table and slid into the bench across from Samantha. “I remember your mom. She worked at the paper mill.”

Samantha nodded. “Yes, but then it closed, and the first snow fell and we left.”

“And now you’re back.” She pushed the mug forward. “Coffee?”

“I’d love some.” Samantha lived on black coffee and adrenaline.

“How’s your mom?”

It had been a while since she’d seen her. Between the travel and recording, she didn’t get much time to relax or visit.

“She’s great. She lives in San Diego now.” The first thing Samantha purchased once she’d made it was a house for her mom. She never wanted her to have to live in a car or a rent by the week motel room again.

“She married?”

She laughed. “Oh no, she said once was enough for her. My father wasn’t a particularly nice man.” Samantha recognized the knowing look that spread over Maisey’s face.

“I understand.” She lifted her hand to her cheek like she had remembered a painful moment. “I hope she’s happy.”

With a nice little nest egg and a fully paid for house, Samantha hoped she was happy too. “Seems to be.”

“You might know my son, Dalton.”

Oh boy, do I know him. “Yes, he’s my neighbor.”

“Is that right? He didn’t tell me.” She rose from the booth and picked up the pot of coffee. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

“Wait. He’s here?”

“Of course. He’s the chef.”

Of course he was. It made sense. He told her he was a chef. Only he didn’t say where.

Samantha was thrilled with the coffee. Add in a side order of Dalton, and it was a perfect day. The only thing that could make it better would be some of that in-between stuff he spoke about.

She fidgeted in the booth while she waited. Without a stitch of makeup on, she wasn’t pretty to look at, but Dalton didn’t seem to notice last night. Then again, it was dark. She pinched her cheeks to pink and chanced a side sniff to make sure her deodorant was working. All seemed to be in order when Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious walked over.

“Good morning,” he said. Those two words that could have been a lover’s sonnet to a woman who had so much, and yet so little.

“Hey, you.” She knew she looked at him like he was breakfast. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“The exchange of resumes didn’t seem necessary.”

She blushed under his gaze. “I suppose we shared enough.”

He laughed loud enough for the old man in the corner to lower his newspaper and frown.

Dalton hovered over her. “You think that was enough? Baby, that wasn’t even an appetizer.” His breath floated over her. Goosebumps rose on her skin, but the heat of desire pulsed through her veins.

She took him in from head to toe. His hair was covered with a dark bandana. The black cotton of his T-shirt stretched across his broad chest, reminding her of every muscle her fingertips skimmed over last night. Worn jeans hung low on his hips and led to black boots more suited for a motorcycle ride than a kitchen.

Her hands tingled to touch him. Afraid she’d act on her desires, she tucked them beneath her legs.

“Why are you hiding in the corner?”

“I’m not hiding.” In fact, she was. With her back to the window and her body pressed against the red vinyl, she hoped to disappear into the décor. One reason she chose Aspen Cove was because it was the last place anyone would look for her. Few people knew of her connection to the small town. “I smelled bacon and came in to investigate.”

“You hungry?” He licked his lips like he could taste her on the air.

“Are you going to stand over me and tease me or satisfy my hunger?”

His big body pushed into the booth, trapping her between him and the wall. His arm fell over her shoulder while his lips traced her jaw to the shell of her ear. “What are you hungry for?”

Laughter bubbled until it burst forth. “Does that work for you?” It worked for her, but she wasn’t ready to strip down and be devoured in a diner. Someone had to put an end to the madness before she asked him to kick everyone out and hang out the ‘closed’ sign.

He sat back and watched her with his soulful blue eyes. “I’m a little rusty in the seduction department.”

She twisted so her knee pressed into his thigh. “Are you now?” She lifted her hand and brushed it across his perfectly trimmed beard. “You’re selling yourself short. I loved the flowers. The eggs and milk were a unique treat but much appreciated. The wine and the kiss on the beach? That was foreplay.”

He twisted his lips in a thoughtful expression. “Flowers, food, and wine, huh?” He scooted out of the booth and stood. “I’ve got you covered.” He whipped around and walked into the kitchen.

Something told Samantha she’d unleashed a monster. As she drank her coffee, she powered up her phone and read through the next twenty-two emails that started with “Where the hell are you?” and ended with her agent pleading for her to contact Dave.

She knew she started a panic when she left. They wanted a new contract. A five-year deal that would give them control over her life again. It wasn’t happening. She’d given them enough.

She dialed Deanna and waited for her to pick up.

“Are you okay?” were the first words out of her mouth.

“I’m perfect. Still incognito. Getting hair color today.”

“Ooh, what color?”

“Boring brown.”

“Nothing about you is boring.”

“Oh please. Boring is my middle name, but I’m working on that.” She touched her lips and sighed. “I met a guy my first night here.” She refused to say he accosted her because what came next was far more exciting. “We shared a bottle of wine and an amazing kiss.”

“Does he know who you are?”

“No, and that was what made the kiss that much more amazing.”

“Don’t get your heart broken. You’re not staying there. Aspen Cove was supposed to be like rehab for your soul. You can’t keep him.”

Deanna was right. Aspen Cove wasn’t part of her long-term plan. The plan was to rest so she could get back into the recording studio to sing what she wanted to sing. She needed to find a studio willing to piss off Oliver Shepherd. Ending her relationship with the music mogul could blacklist her for life. It might come down to her starting her own label.

“I know, and it’s been good so far.”

“Tell me about that kiss.”

“The kiss,” she closed her eyes to remember it better, “was amazing.”

A plate of food appeared in front of her. “‘Amazing,’ huh?” His warm molasses voice seeped into her cells, heating her all the way to her core.

“Got to go, Deanna. The kisser is here.” She hung up before her assistant could say another word.

Dalton sat across from her and plucked a piece of bacon from her plate. She looked down at what he brought to the table. It was more like a platter than a plate.

“You better have more than a piece of bacon. Who do you think will eat all of this?”

“You are. You’re way too thin. While your ass is perfection, the rest of you is like a piece of knotty pine.”

Samantha’s chin nearly hit her chest. “That can’t work for you.”

He rose from his seat and moved next to her. “It’s not my intention to offend you, but you have to know you’re painfully thin.”

Barely over a hundred pounds, she was thin. “I have a killer metabolism.”

“Then eat up. You’ll need it.”

“For?”

“There’s a bonfire and barbecue tonight on the beach. We’re celebrating Sage and Cannon’s engagement. I thought maybe you could go with me?”

She looked up into his eyes. Eyes that threatened to melt her. “Dalton Black, are you asking my knotty-pine ass on a date?”

He thumbed her chin so she couldn’t look away. “No. I’m inviting the woman who has an ass created in heaven and hip bones as sharp as anvils on a date.”

“So, I’m not knotty?”

He pulled his lower lip into his mouth and rolled it between his teeth. When it popped free, he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers. “God, I hope you’re naughty.”

The bell above the door rang, and a large family entered.

“That’s my cue to leave. See you tonight?” His expression was full of hope.

“I’ll be there.”

She’d say whatever he wanted to hear in order to see that smile again.

Samantha glanced at the family and thought the mom and dad looked familiar, but she couldn’t come up with a name. The double doors to the kitchen swung closed when Dalton walked through them and opened again when Maisey walked out and greeted the couple and their seven children. That was a couple who spent a lot of time enjoying the “in-between.”

Maisey hugged the woman and patted the telltale bump on her stomach. Baby number eight was on its way.

As a performer, she never had the time to consider marriage or children, but looking at the family in front of her caused a pang of jealousy to thread through her. She never asked for fame and fortune. She asked for a life. Maybe she should have been more specific.