The last month of Buttercup’s life had been the happiest she’d had in a decade. Coming back to the town of Poke was the best decision she had ever made. The last few days she had even ceased being so jumpy, stopped looking over her shoulder at every turn. Her heart no longer beat against her ribs at the sound of car tires crunching on the gravel drive. It was never the angry man that she expected to come, yank on her arm and pull her back into the hell that was their relationship.

She felt welcome—surrounded by loving family when she had shown up unexpectedly to the sprawling ranch house. The three boys had taken to her and she enjoyed helping with the cooking and childcare. Jessica never stopped thanking her, telling Buttercup she had shown up just in the nick of time and that she was at her wits end that spring.

Ray had added a second, small master bedroom on the back of the house when he first built. He always wanted a place for her, should Buttercup ever want to come to stay. She not only had her own bedroom and bathroom, but all her monetary needs were taken care of. Happy to help the family without expecting anything in return, Buttercup was constantly finding money attached to thank you notes that Ray or Jessica had hidden in her coat pockets.

Ray and Jessica had gotten chicks that spring thinking the boys would enjoy caring for them. The boys neglected the poor birds and Buttercup had shown up just in time to take over their care. Feeding and watering them daily, as well as gathering the eggs, it was one of her favorite chores.

The past few days she had taken to checking on the flock more frequently than usual. Though she was too shy to admit it to herself, there was something other than the funny, gentle birds that now drew her out into the yard daily.

Ray had hired a young man to build a standalone three car garage on the property.

The builder was tall, tanned and muscular. The young man’s countenance was so different from the permanent scowl that had rested on Tom’s face. What drew her out to the yard to see him was his smile. It was warm and genuine. When he flashed it to her, it felt like the sun was shining right over Buttercup.

Stepping into the warm Texas spring day, Buttercup felt her stomach drop. Instead of working on the siding as he had been doing earlier this week, the builder was kneeling on the steep roof, laying shingles. The man perched on the roof looked as if he was more comfortable hovering in the air than with his feet on the ground. The beat of her panicked heart felt as if it would burst from her ribcage— just from looking at him.

Her lifelong irrational fear of heights went beyond her own safety and wellbeing. It extended to seeing anyone at a dangerous height. Buttercup took in deep, calming breaths. She looked away trying to get the image of the man on the roof out of her mind.

Deciding to go back to the house and come back later when the man was off the roof, Buttercup turned her back to the garage.

“Hey, don’t go. I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself.”

She stopped her retreat, looking over her shoulder. Though they had exchanged smiles with one another daily, they had never actually spoken. Not wanting to embarrass herself, Buttercup willed her body to turn back towards the roof. The man was now standing on its peak, his feet shoulder width apart, arms crossed over his chest.

Trying not to make a fool of herself, Buttercup forced herself to make eye contact with him. The broad, white smile spread across his handsome face. Brown curls came down past his ears. His skin was tanned from working in the sun. He wore a red flannel work shirt tucked into faded jeans, held up by a worn, tan leather belt. Standing confident, legs spread shoulder width apart, hands now on his hips, his smile shone down on her. Trying to hold herself together she willed her eyes to stay focused on the man.

Breathing and counting to three, Buttercup felt she was ready to speak. “I’m Buttercup. Ray’s sister,” she said.

Smile widening, the man began to jog, taking big jumping strides across the roof.

Feeling faint, her world started to spin. Buttercup looked at the ground. She tried closing her eyes. But all she could see was the man flying across the high roof in her mind’s eye. Her imagination was overtaken by her fears and she pictured the man falling, down, down, down to the ground. Trying to get a hold of herself, she replaced the image with her favorite chicken. The black Ayam Cemani that Harry had named Batman.

It was too late.

The nausea roiled through her abdomen. Her stomach gave a great lurch. Bending over, Buttercup watched as the entire contents of her stomach flew out onto the sweet Texas grass. Wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve, Buttercup put her hands on her knees, taking more deep breaths. “Oh my goodness,” she murmured, humiliated.

“Wow, are you okay?” The man was now safely on the ground and by her side.

Buttercup groaned. Tears stung her eyes from the taste of sickness and embarrassment. “How do you do that?” she gasped, keeping her eyes focused on the ground.

“Do what?” the stranger asked.

“Walk on the roof like—” Again she saw the moon bounce like jumps in her mind. To her utter dismay, Buttercup was sick for a second time.

“Whoa, that’s a lot of food. Well, what used to be food, I guess.”

“Ray… feeds me. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I ate. But I never eat that much, and then there you were—” She feebly waved towards the garage.

He hurriedly placed a hand on her back. “Let’s not bring the roof up again. I take it you have a tough time with heights.”

“I’m so sorry.” Still hunched over, eyes closed to avoid looking at her disgusting sickness, Buttercup nodded her head.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Let’s get you inside, shall we? Maybe a glass of water?”

Buttercup nodded again.

“I’m Jake,” the man said, gently grabbing her elbow to guide her to the house. Feeling faint she was grateful for the assistance. Having daydreamed about the handsome man for hours, she couldn’t believe that spewing up all over the place was the way she had finally introduced herself.

“Nice to meet you,” Buttercup chuckled weakly.

“Oh, we’ve met before,” Jake said confidently. “Jess’ wedding. I was the DJ.”

Not wanting to sound impolite, Buttercup answered, “Yes, I remember.”

A loud chuckle came from Jake. “No, you don’t. Every person in Poke Town spoke to you that night. It was your first visit to our tiny Texas town. The night must have been a whirlwind for you. I saw you shake at least a hundred hands. There’s no way you noticed the DJ. That’s quite all right with me though, because I certainly remember you. Purple dress.”

“Carrie bought me that dress,” Buttercup said softly. “I arrived only hours before the wedding and Carrie was so sweet and kind. She had it all picked out for my arrival, demanding I change into it right away.”

“Well, she did a fantastic job,” Jake answered kindly. “It looked so pretty with your green eyes.”

Buttercup felt her cheeks flush at the compliment.

“Whoa, little hill here, you going to be okay or do I need to carry you?” Jake joked as they stepped over a tiny incline. Unnecessarily, Jake tightened his hold on her elbow.

Buttercup flinched. She didn’t mean to, or want to but she did. Her eyes met Jake’s widened brown ones. The warm eyes shone with concern as they gazed down at her. Jake loosened his hold on her but did not release her arm. The smile on his full lips was reassuring.

Buttercup smiled back.

Approaching the back door that led to the kitchen, Buttercup said, “Thank you. I think I can take it from here.” Her head felt less faint than before, her legs were no longer loose like spaghetti.

Looking her over, brow furrowed with concern, Jake said, “I think I’ll just see you in. If you don’t mind, that is.” The last statement was a courtesy. Buttercup could tell this man wasn’t going anywhere until he had safely transferred her care to her brother, Ray.

“Okay,” she murmured.

Jake smiled his smile again, it seemed to permanently stay on his tan face. His light manner and happy aura was a stark contrast to what she had become used to in her old life. Now, here at the ranch she was safe. It felt like that had been the life of another woman all together.

Opening the door, gesturing towards the threshold, he said, “In you go.”

The spot on her arm where he had once held her now felt lonely. Buttercup stepped in front of him, entering the house. Closing the door behind them, Jake stayed close to her as they made their way to a barstool.

Ray looked up at her curiously as he continued stirring the big pot on the stove. “You okay, Buttercup?”

“I’ll get there.” Slumping down into the first barstool at the island, Buttercup leaned on her elbows, head in her hands.

“Brought you a patient, Ray,” Jake said. “This little one tossed her cookies. All of them. You must have overfed her.”

“Not possible,” Ray’s deep voice answered as Buttercup studied the pattern of the white and gray granite countertops. She did not yet trust herself to look up for fear that seeing the simmering pot of food would turn her stomach once again. Coming around the counter to where she sat, Ray placed his hand reassuringly on her back. “Buttercup?”

The weight of Ray’s hand on her back calmed Buttercup and brought stinging tears to her eyes. Her throat closed tightly. Throwing up in front of someone she had been crushing on was embarrassing enough. Crying in front of him would be absolutely humiliating.

As if reading her thoughts, Jake said, “I’ll let you recover, Buttercup.” The way he said her name in his thick Texan accent made it sound like it was melting on his tongue. “Ray here will take good care of you.”

“Thank you, Jake,” Ray said as his hand continued to rub wide circles on Buttercup’s back.

“Sure thing,” Jake said. Buttercup snuck a peek at Jake as he turned to leave. His smile was gone, worry crossing his handsome face. He looked as if he did not want to leave her.

Surprised by her sudden intense longing for him to stay, Buttercup looked away. “Thank you, Jake,” she said shyly, dismissing him as she knew she should.

A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Reaching out, Jake smoothed down her hair, gently. A shiver ran through her at the delicate touch. “Feel better,” Jake said, softly.

“Thanks,” Buttercup muttered. And she was sure she would, if she didn’t die of embarrassment, first.

* * *

After her humiliating incident of getting sick in front of Jake, Buttercup tried not to allow her thoughts to become wrapped up in him, but there he was, day in, day out. The weather warmer, his muscular arms showed underneath his thin tee shirt as he worked. His smile, the straight white teeth shining behind the full lips still made her day.

The man had Buttercup making up random excuses to go out into the yard. She needed to help Harry find a baseball. Evan wanted to practice his soccer and Buttercup was the only acceptable goalie. Henny Penny seemed to have a little limp that Buttercup wanted to keep an eye on. The list went on and on.

What drew her in and had her returning to the yard was the way Jake looked at her. The way his face lit up just as she would come around the corner. It reminded her of watching someone open a present. Just her showing up, in his sightline, seemed to be a gift to him.

Though they didn’t spend any time alone together—Jake was hard at work and Buttercup was busy with the boys, she liked seeing him, knowing he was there.

Every day Jake would somehow ‘bump’ into her and they would chat casually, getting to know one another. They rarely spoke for more than fifteen minutes before being interrupted by a little someone who needed help or attention, tugging at Buttercup’s hand and pulling her away. But then she would go back out into the yard for something else and Jake would take a little break from his work. And they would get to chatting again.

Buttercup had shown up with only the clothing on her back and the ten-year-old dress from the wedding in her possession. Jessica had taken her shopping in Clinton. Ray had told Jessica, ‘spare no expense’, and Jessica hadn’t. Buttercup, unused to having beautiful things, was now outfitted with clothes, matching shoes, designer jeans, and a facial. Many pieces of the clothing she had picked out were the same violet of the dress Jake had loved. Buttercup had told herself that she chose that color because she loved it—not because Jake had told her it looked beautiful with her green eyes.

This morning, she had carefully chosen her favorite of the shirts. Spending a little extra time on her hair than usual, and even putting on a dot of lip gloss, she made her way to the yard. Carrying her empty basket, Buttercup went to check on the chickens, for the first time that day. Rounding the corner to the coop, she was surprised to find Jake, waiting for her within the chicken’s fencing. Just the sight of him had her heart pounding.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello yourself, Buttercup,” he drawled. The wide, white smile spread across his face, the light came to his eyes.

“What are you doing hanging out with the chickens? Aren’t you working today?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Oh.” Instantly overwhelmed by shyness, she felt a blush rise in her cheeks.

“The truth is, I finished the garage two days ago. I rehammered every nail over the past two days, just stalling. I can’t bear to leave here and think I won’t at least get to catch a glimpse of you every day.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Talking with you has become the highlight of my days. I’m going to miss that.”

“Me too,” she breathed.

“I was trying to stay professional. You know—not asking out the boss’ little sister? I figure I might as well be honest about how I feel seeing as I no longer work for your brother now.”

“What do you mean?” she stuttered. After catching moony glimpses of Jake for weeks his admission seemed surreal.

“What I want to say is that I remember the first time I saw you. You wore that purple dress; your eyes were so green. The way you sat so quietly talking to all the old ranchers sweetly. That shy little smile you gave them—I knew it was making their day as much as it was making mine.”

Looking away from his warm gaze, she mumbled, “That’s nice of you to say.”

Placing his fingertip under her chin, he tilted her gaze up to meet his. “It’s true.”

They stood quietly for a moment, considering one another’s faces. The touch of his fingertip made her knees weak, but she held his gaze.

Lowering his finger from her chin, Jake’s question surprised Buttercup.

“Have you been hurt before?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“You carry yourself as someone who, maybe, has been—hurt.” His jaw clenched after he said the word a protective look flashing in his eyes.

Buttercup considered his statement. She was not one to share personal stories or feelings. She had learned that life was hard, and it was best to become hardened to survive it. But something in his earnest gaze made the truth roll from her tongue.

“I have—been hurt, that is. My mother abandoned me. My father was absent. I was that latch key kid they talked about. The one microwaving their own dinner by the age of eight. And my choice in boyfriends…” her thoughts trailed off. She had already said too much.

“Tom?” he asked, concern filling his eyes. Jake’s jaw set in an angry reaction to speaking the name.

“Yes, Tom. How do you know of him?” Buttercup had never mentioned to Jake the fiancé who had once had such a tight hold over her. She preferred to keep their conversation light, putting on an air of a carefree fun young lady. Hiding her scars from the world, from Jake.

“After the wedding, I asked Ray about you. He said you had a boyfriend, so I left well enough alone. After you left Poke, when I was doing some handyman work for your brother, I overheard him talking to Wes. Ray didn’t think Tom was a good guy. He and Wes had contemplated going after you.”

“Sometimes, I wish they would have. But I was a grown woman and needed to make my own decisions,” Buttercup said in a whisper.

He reached out, running his fingertips down her cheek, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “If you had even known who I was I would have gone after you. But you didn’t even know I existed. That would have been a strange rescue, wouldn’t it?” he chuckled.

His touch was so—gentle. To tuck her hair behind her ear, such a small gesture but something she had not experienced in her lifetime. She had to be hard, take care of herself.

That was what had attracted her to Tom. She had mistaken his jealousy, control, for protection, care. Picturing kind Jake showing up at the door to challenge Tom, Buttercup gave a shudder. “That may not have been the best idea.”

“I’m just so glad you are here now. You have no idea.”

“Me too.” She gave a shy smile, hardly being able to believe the tenderness in his gaze was for her.

Jake spoke softly. “Tell me, why a man like Tom?”

She had only recently asked herself the same question. And she knew the answer. “Tom was, is a strong man. I liked that, that he was strong. A take charge guy who knew what he wanted. Other guys my age always seemed immature to me. I kind of grew up fast.”

“I am getting the sense that he was strong, but maybe not kind?”

“Y-yes.”

“Have you ever been with a strong man who was kind?” Jake stepped even closer to her. There was an electricity running between them.

Unable to meet his eyes, Buttercup looked over the busy flock of hens. She admitted shyly, “I’ve only ever been with Tom.”

“There are men who are as kind as they are strong. I can be that man for you. Let me show you.”

She spoke the words before she had time to think. “I’m not dating.”

To her surprise, the answer brought a smile to Jake’s face.

Running his fingertips down her cheek, he held her face in his hand. “I will be that man for you. And I will care for you. And I will be strong for you. I can make you happy.”

His hand felt warm and big against her face, making her feel small and protected.

“But I’m not dating right now.” She said it again, but she didn’t mean it. She could read in his face that Jake knew she didn’t mean it. She tried to hide the sheepish smile that was playing at her lips. Lightly his thumb brushed over her curving mouth.

“I will be all of that, and more.” Leaning down, he closed the space between them, kissing her softly. Tingles ran through her body at his touch. His hand slid from her cheek to behind her neck, pulling her in closer to him. His kiss deepened making her knees weak and her head feel light, as if she were floating. Feeling all funny, she thought, goodness this man knows how to kiss a woman.

That was the exact moment, she was hit in the shoulder with a football.

Laughter rang out as the naughty boys ran behind the coop, chanting, “Jake and Buttercup sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”

Pulling away, Jake laughed a deep laugh. His eyes gleaming from the kiss, he said, “Those boys have impeccable timing.”

“Yes, they do,” Buttercup murmured wanting Jake’s lips right back on hers.

Instead of kissing her again, Jake asked, “Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Okay,” she murmured. “But I’m not dating.”

Jake leaned over, applying a chaste kiss to her cheek. The sunshine smile crossed his face. “Wear the purple dress, if you still have it.” Whistling as he walked away, he threw one satisfied smile over his shoulder at her.

Buttercup watched Jake and the back of those jeans slung around his trim hips depart. She would be ready, and she would wear the dress. Just a little hang out as friends. She was not going to date anyone after her long, sordid relationship with Tom. At least that’s what she told herself as she stood by the chickens, watching Jake make his way across the yard.

Seven could not come soon enough.

* * *

Upon finding out Buttercup was going out with Jake that night, Jessica had demanded Ray take the boys, then locked the two women into her master bathroom. Buttercup had noticed Jessica received a firm swat at her command, to which she had quickly changed the demand to a sweet request. The little display between the married couple sent a flutter to Buttercup’s tummy and a blush to her cheeks.

“Just sit down, Jess. You are making me nervous.”

“I can’t Buttercup—I’m a hairdresser at heart. Now, let me finish fixin’ this gorgeous mane of yours. That Jake Hargett has been in love with you since the moment he laid eyes on you at the wedding. You were all he talked about for a good, solid year. I swear he hasn’t had a decent relationship since.”

“But he didn’t even speak to me at the wedding.”

“You had a boyfriend. Jake wouldn’t go near you. He believes in loyalty. Man, I wish you could have seen his face when Ray told him you were back in Poke. And for good this time, we hope. Jake especially. He is most definitely in love, and he has his sights set on you.”

“He can’t love me.”

“I know what love looks like. That man loves you.”

Her body wound tight with nervous energy. This was more serious than just a date to Jake. And she had already declared she was not even dating. “Then I’m not going.”

“You are going. And your hair is going to be perfect if you would just sit still.” Turning up the heat on her curling iron, Jessica began to make large loose curls in Buttercup’s long locks. Speaking animatedly as she worked, Jessica said, “Now, Buttercup, I don’t want to scare you anymore than you already are, but I think you ought to know, Jake isn’t looking for anything casual.”

“What does that mean?”

“That man knows what he wants, and it’s you, and I’ve never seen him not get what he wants. I’ve known him for a long time—he was Kevin’s best friend. I’ve watched him grow up and he is one determined young man. Ran a successful DJ business at the early age of sixteen. Bought his first truck at eighteen. Skipped college and started his remodeling company. Bought a house before he was old enough to buy beer—the whole nine yards. Never looked back.”

Buttercup looked down at her purple dress. What did she think she was doing? After Tom, Buttercup had sworn off men. And she was losing her nerve to go on this not supposed to be a date, date. What Jessica said next made her tummy flutter and what was left of her bravery whittle down to nothing.

Jessica leaned over her shoulder, whispering to Buttercup, “One more thing, Buttercup. That man is going to want to spank your butt.”

Buttercup covered her mouth as she gasped. Looking at Jessica’s reflection in the mirror as she curled a long tendril of Buttercup’s dark hair, she tried to read Jessica’s face to see if she was joking. She wasn’t.

“Are you serious, why on Earth would he want to do that?” Buttercup looked away from the mirror, the pink that had risen in her cheeks was too much for her to bear. She felt the blush was going to give away her secrets.

“I know it’s a lot to process but it’s true. Jake is a spanking man, every bit as much as Ray is, and as Wes is.”

Buttercup had noticed the unique way the two couples had interacted, the men often giving the woman a single look, to which they often blushed, as she was now. She also had not been blind to the swats, the arm grabs, the whispered words. And the loving looks of adoration.

Maybe it was as Jake said. Tom had the sternness she craved but without the tender love and kindness every woman needed from her man.

Catching her eye in the mirror, Jessica spoke softly, “I know you want that type of man, Buttercup.”

“How?” The blush now turned to a beet red resting high on her cheekbones, but Buttercup held Jessica’s gaze.

“I’ve seen you with Jake. The way you move your body around his, the way you look up at him through your lashes. You are submissive by nature. But you gave that gift to the wrong man, got burned, and now you are scared to show that side of yourself to someone else. But Jake is no Tom, Buttercup. He is a man who will care for, protect, and, yes, correct you. With him it will all be from a place of loving care.”

Still more embarrassed than she had ever been before, Buttercup found the nerve to ask, “Jess, can you tell me about your relationship a little? Just so I can be prepared?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Hope this isn’t awkward for you, me being married to your brother and all…”

“I think we are well past awkward, Jess,” Buttercup mumbled.

Giving a laugh, Jessica continued talking while spraying a cloud of sweet smelling hairspray over Buttercup. “It started out with Ray and me as friends. He was taking the best care of me and Evan. Then he told me he loved me. And then he got bossy. Very quickly it became clear—Ray was going to flip me over his knee and spank my butt any time I stepped out of line.”

“Like what?”

“Overspending. Being disrespectful, being bratty. You know, the usual trouble us women find ourselves in. Not you though, you’re too sweet. I can’t even imagine what you could get yourself into trouble over. Well, anyway, with Ray, he is in charge, one hundred percent. He always asks me my opinion, what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling, but ultimately, he’s the head of our household. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Though sometimes when he’s walloping my behind, I have second thoughts.”

Buttercup gulped, feeling embarrassed and nervous at Jessica’s confession. But another part of her felt free. Free in the knowledge there wasn’t something wrong with her years of craving. Wanting the type of relationship that Jessica had just described.

“Thank you, Jessica. For everything. Talking to me about the girl stuff, letting me stay here with you and Ray. Giving me a home.”

“You are so welcome, honey. We just love you to death and don’t ever want you to leave. And I know you are going to have a fantastic time on your date.”

The butterflies, the shivers, all came over her at once. “What if he brings it up tonight?”

“What? Spanking?”

“Yes.”

Jessica placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry, honey, he most certainly will.”

* * *

Jake had insisted on opening the passenger door of his white, Ford F-150 for Buttercup, looking as if he wanted to smack her hand away when she went to open it herself.

Buttercup had to stand on the running board to boost herself up into the high seat of the truck.

Once he was satisfied with her comfort, Jake looked her over, eyes brightly shining. “You wore the dress.”

“Of course. You asked me to.”

“I told you to,” he said, a glint in his eyes that made her insides melt. “Didn’t I, Buttercup?”

“Yes,” she whispered, feeling almost as if she should be adding sir to her words.

“Good girl,” he said, throwing her a debonair smile and shutting the door.

Those two words, good girl, oh how Buttercup had longed to hear them from a man. Her knees went weak and she was so glad she was seated and not standing.

Jake climbed into the truck, flashing that smile, and asking, “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Sneaking a glance at him out of the corner of her eye Buttercup took in the tan trousers he wore with a light blue button down tucked into his tan leather belt. The sleeves of his shirt rolled neatly up to his elbow. She watched as his beautiful hands grasped the steering wheel, the way his long fingers wrapped around it. Something about the way those sleeves were rolled up had her imagining Jake doing to her the things Jessica had talked about.

“You like barbeque?” he asked, looking over at her, interrupting her thoughts.

“Sure, of course,” Buttercup lied. Best not to get picky on a first date.

“You sure?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Of course, I do. Who doesn’t like barbeque?”

After a moment of silence, Jake said, “You don’t, Buttercup. I should pull this truck over and put you right over my knee for lying.”

There was a stone-cold silence in the cab of the truck. A thrill ran though Buttercup at his words.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jake asked, throwing her a grin. “You know I’m kidding, right?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, but also surprised by the disappointment she felt in her gut, Buttercup laughed a nervous laugh. “Of course.”

“I won’t spank you until you’re officially my girl.” Jake placed his hand on her knee, giving it a familiar squeeze.

“Are you kidding, now?”

“Nope. Serious as a heart attack. And I know you don’t like barbeque, because Ray told me so. I was going to take you to my house and cook for you. Would that be all right, or would you be more comfortable going out in public? I understand if you want to wait until you are my girlfriend to come to my house.”

“Your girlfriend? We haven’t even been on an official date yet. Don’t you think you are jumping the gun, just a bit?” she squeaked out.

“I have been hoping, praying you would be mine for ten years. Ever since you came and spent those weeks in our Texas town. If you think, for a second, I am not going to make you mine, now that you are here and single, you are mistaken, young lady.”

“What if I say, no?”

“That is the only thing that will stop me. You not wanting me. Anything else is fair game and I will fight for you. As long as you will let me.” He threw a soft glance her way.

“Good to know I have a choice in the matter,” she murmured.

“Of course, you have a choice. But when you realize what a perfect match we are, I don’t think you will be having second thoughts, Buttercup.”

The way he said her name, it sounded so sensual in her ears. Buttercup. It melted off his smooth Texan tongue. It made her want his mouth on hers again.

“You sure are confident for someone who barely knows me. This is only our first time going out. And it’s not a date. Not officially,” she reminded him.

Flashing her that brilliant smile, he replied, “It is a date. And it most certainly won’t be our last. You haven’t even had my famous steak and potatoes yet. If my building skills didn’t impress you, I’m hoping my cooking will.”

“I don’t know. Ray is a pretty good cook. That’s some fierce competition,” she teased.

He threw her a sheepish smile. “I may have gotten some pointers from him. While I was working on the garage. And found out a few of your favorites while I was at it.”

That was certainly something Tom had never done. Cooking for her. Finding out her favorites. Buttercup was the one doing the cooking, Tom coming in their small dark kitchen and taking over half of what she made without even a thank you. She had told herself it didn’t bother her. That it didn’t matter. That she was lucky to have him at all.

Sitting beside Jake, Buttercup wondered if she had been mistaken about a lot of things.

* * *

Pulling up to the little cottage, Buttercup felt her eyebrows raise in surprise. The home was gorgeous.

The white siding looked meticulously maintained, the wide porch inviting, the blue shutters on the windows looked to be freshly painted. The lawn was tidy and edged. There were clay pots filled with Bluebonnets dotting the walkway.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Jake gave a laugh. “It wasn’t when I bought it. It was a total dump. You should have seen this place when I first moved in. I got it for the same amount I had to put into it—just to make it livable. But now, it’s home. And everything I learned, all the mistakes, helped me run my business I have now. The experience was priceless.”

Buttercup waited patiently for Jake to open her door as he exited the truck, assuming he was the type of man to want to open the door as he had closed it for her.

Sure enough, he came around to her side, opening the door with flourish. “You are learning quickly,” he teased. “Not so bad having a good man to take care of you, is it?”

She answered with a small smile, her face flushed from his nearness. The woodsy sent of his cologne caught her as he leaned in to her. Instead of holding her hand to help her down, Jake reached over, unlatched her seatbelt then wrapped his hands around her ribcage under her arms. Buttercup giggled as he lifted her up and out of the truck.

When her feet were on the ground, Jake held her close to his body, looking down at her and saying with a wink. “Didn’t want you to be afraid. I know how you feel about heights.”

Buttercup teasingly swatted at his shoulder, “I’m not afraid of being a couple of feet off the ground, Jake. You were literally bounding across that roof.”

“You can never be too careful.” His smile warmed her as he released his hold. “Shall we?” he asked, hooking her arm in his and leading her up the pristine walkway to the little cottage.

When they reached the friendly blue door, Jake opened it right up without unlocking it with a key. Buttercup wondered what it would be like to feel that safe, living somewhere.

Entering the home, she was greeted by the white walls and polished floors of a cozy entry way. A large mirror with a wooden frame hung directly in front of her. She caught a glimpse of herself and Jake standing together, the frame of the mirror almost like a frame of a portrait of the two of them.

Jake stood over her shoulder, tall and confident, his handsome face a head above hers. And she looked—different. Healthy and happy. Her skin was no longer sallow. Her eyes were bright and her ‘perfect’ hair shone. Buttercup couldn’t help but think they made quite a pair. The couple in the mirror looked like they belonged together.

As if reading her thoughts, Jake flashed his brilliant smile at her. Giving her shoulder a quick squeeze, he moved past her, showing her the way into the living room. The furniture was all the same soft blue color as the door. Beautiful pale oak flooring running through the home.

The artwork on the walls caught her attention. Her gaze hovered over the paintings that lined the white walls. They were abstract designs, streams of colors layered upon one another with streaks of metallic running through them.

Stepping closer to the red and orange one that reminded her of a sunset, Buttercup asked, “Where did you get these? They are gorgeous.”

When Jake spoke, the usual confidence had left his voice. Sounding unsure, he said, “They are my work. Do you like them?”

“I love them.” Forgetting herself, she walked up to each painting, studying it in turn. Next to the sunset was a teal, green and silver painting, reminding her of the ocean. Her father had taken her once, and she had been enraptured by the blue greens of the water stretching out to meet the horizon.

Beside the ‘sea’ one was a darker painting. She could not tear her eyes away from the angry black and grey marks. Though the other paintings had brought her a sense of peace and happiness, she found that this was her favorite of the three. It touched the scars she had buried deep within.

It reminded her of hearing the gut wrenching words, ‘your mother left us’. And the feeling she had when Tom would storm out of their apartment, leaving her behind, bewildered and wondering what she had done wrong. Blinking quickly, she finally had to look away.

Jake came up beside her, asking softly, “What do you think of that one?”

She answered honestly. “It is my favorite one. But it makes me feel—sad. Worried. It unsettles me.”

“That is the one I painted the day after Kevin died.”

Looking over her shoulder, she stared at Jake. “Tell me more.”

Considering the painting, his face was more serious than she had ever seen it before. “I was seventeen when Kevin was killed. He was my best friend. We thought we had our whole lives ahead of us. We were going to travel together, start a business together, get in trouble together. The things teenage boys dream of. Then he was killed in the car crash. It was all so sudden, so unbelievable. It turned my life upside down. The world was nothing like I had thought it was. I learned there are no guarantees in this life. You can plan all day, but it can end at any moment. I grew up the day he died. And then I painted this.”

Standing with her arm leaning against his, Buttercup brought her eyes to the painting once more. “Is that why you throw yourself into things the way you do? The business, the house, life? Because none of us know how much time we have left?”

“Yes. That and something else.”

“What?”

“I do it for Kevin. I feel like I have a responsibility to live my life to the fullest. For me and for him. It’s like I have this drive to live enough life for the both of us. Mine and the one that was stolen from my best friend.” His warm gaze turned to her. She felt a current running through his eyes, into her soul.

“That’s how I am able to be so honest with you about my feelings for you. And, when I felt the way I felt the first time I laid eyes on you I could allow myself to trust the feelings to be real. Because I live my life with a brutal honesty and I live it to the fullest.”

Never considering herself brave, Buttercup dared to do something she wouldn’t have been able to do only a few months prior. Lifting her hand to the side of Jake’s cheek, Buttercup reached up on her tippy-toes, closing the gap between their bodies and pressing her lips to his full, kind mouth. Jake’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close, secure against his broad chest. When he kissed her back it was with the hunger of a man who had known love, but had it withheld from him. And Buttercup knew—she was falling in true love for the first time in her life.