Ben sat at a small bistro-style table in the café located inside the lodge, glancing out the large picture window at the mountain. It was surreal, being back in Canyon Creek, especially in the lodge his parents had built just a few months before. Ben had to admit, adding the eatery onsite had been an excellent idea. And stocking the case with Aunt Sally’s bakery items was brilliant. The apple muffin on his plate was every bit as amazing as he remembered from his childhood.

He’d just returned from Seattle after spending three days in his office, preparing his staff to take over in his absence. He still wasn’t prepared to be back in Canyon Creek himself, but he couldn’t walk away from the challenge of making Maggie and his mother understand they needed to make serious changes if this place was going to succeed.

He’d called his mother last night to confirm his arrival and schedule this morning’s meeting. She’d quickly referred him to Maggie, reminding him that he worked under her.

Under Maggie. Ben groaned. He wasn’t a horny pubescent boy any more. What was wrong with him? Business…pure business. That’s why he was here. He needed to forget the fact that Maggie had once been the source of all kinds of high school fantasies for him. They weren’t in high school anymore. Maggie wasn’t on the table.

On the table. Yes, that was definitely one place to have her. One of many.

Ben shook his head to rid the thoughts, then glanced at the folder he’d brought, and sobered. There were several concerns he and Maggie needed to address. Glancing down at his watch he noted she was already fifteen minutes late. Great.

“Who are you waiting for, sailor?” Aunt Sally plopped down on the seat across from him. She placed her cell phone on the table, face up.

Ben groaned, again.

Aunt Sally’s screen glowed with a picture of five men decked out in tight leather pants, ripped T-shirts and long, permed hair that defied the laws of gravity. Ben didn’t need to see their faces to know the photo was likely one of the band Journey, circa 1986.

He could do without Aunt Sally’s penchant for ’80s hair bands. Everyone knew about his mother’s and Aunt Sally’s decades-long feud about which group was better, Bon Jovi or Journey. To Ben and his brothers, both groups were equally heinous. Aunt Lisa’s obsession with Van Halen was just as bad, but she’d never felt the need to defend her choice as vigorously as Sally and his mom.

Regardless of the boy band obsession, Ben still smiled anytime he saw Aunt Sally.

His father’s sister was special to Ben. As a child, Aunt Sally had been his confidant and silent supporter of any crazy idea he had.

Set your beautiful mind to it, Benji, and you can do anything.

It wasn’t just “smoke up his ass,” as Aunt Sally had called it once. No, she truly believed in Ben. And that confidence had given him the courage to leave school and start his computer software business. He knew Aunt Sally wasn’t perfect—she had a mean streak a mile long and the townspeople knew better than to cross her—but she was loyal and brave, two things his family needed now.

“Maybe I’m waiting on you, gorgeous,” Ben winked as he unwrapped the warm muffin.

Aunt Sally waved her hand in the air, dismissing him. “I bet you say that to all the girls in Seattle.”

What girls, he wanted to say. Ben hadn’t been with a woman in months. Sure, he had female friends, friends-with-benefits he called from time to time, but nothing serious. And no one he’d had the time to call lately. Most women he met were needy and clingy, and he had no time for either.

Now his time would be splintered even further. The board of Ben’s company had been pushing him to go public with their stock for months to raise capital for new ventures outside of software technology. Ben might like to expand on what they were working on, but he also liked his company the way it was—not huge but manageable. By him. He wasn’t ready to relinquish control.

Aunt Sally lifted one red-tipped finger and tapped his forehead. “What’s got your mind racing up there, Benji?”

“Benji?” He growled at the mention of his nickname. “Really, Aunt Sally?”

“What? I used to wipe your behind, and now your britches are too big for your Aunt Sally to tease you?” She grinned, reaching out to ruffle his hair. There were times his aunt could sound like an encyclopedia of every cliché ever written.

He ducked his head, escaping her reach. “You know you’re mildly annoying, right?”

She practically beamed as if his statement was a compliment. “If I’m just mildly annoying then I’m doing it wrong.”

Ben laughed. “And you sound like you’re from the 1800s. What’s up with the ‘britches’ comment?”

Aunt Sally shrugged and fell back into her chair. “I guess I’m feeling a little old today. Losing your dad made us all reevaluate our mortality.”

Ben froze, coffee midway to his mouth, at the mention of his father’s passing. He’d always assumed they’d have more time. He frowned and set down his cup. “How’s my mom? I got in late last night and haven’t seen her.”

Sally drew in a deep breath. “She has good moments and bad, like all of us.”

Ben’s heart ached. Her statement described his relationship with his dad. He’d had a few good moments and a lot of bad ones with his dad. But none could be worse than finding out his father had passed away before they could truly make amends.

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Aunt Sally reached across the table. “Your mom will be fine. She’s stronger than you think. It’s good for her to have you boys home, though. Good for me, too.” She winked.

“Why’s that?” Ben sunk his teeth into the delicious muffin. The woman could bake.

“I’ve got some new recipes I want to try out and I know you and your brothers can never say no to anything your Aunt Sally bakes.”

He nodded before swallowing. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

“And you and the boys will be a big help in finishing the cabins and the remodel of the wedding barn.”

“Yeah, about that.” Ben said.

Sally glanced over his shoulder. “Oops. Here comes trouble on two legs.”

Ben turned to see Maggie half walking, half running toward them, her strong, slender legs eating up the distance between them.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she breathed, nearly slamming into their table. “We’re down two staff members on the housekeeping crew. I had to turn rooms this morning so our guests could check in on time.”

Her chest heaved and her mouth parted as she worked to catch her breath. Tendrils of curly auburn hair clung to her damp face, cheeks reddened from exertion.

Unwanted images of Maggie sitting on top of him, her face looking much like it did now, breasts heaving as he teased her to orgasm flooded his mind. What the fuck? Ben shook himself. He needed to get his head right and focus on the lodge.

“Are you okay?” Sally’s voice deflated his sexual fantasy like a pin prick to a balloon. Jesus, nothing like your aunt to kill your waking wet dream.

When Ben had fantasized about Maggie fifteen years ago, he’d been a clumsy seventeen-year-old, barely able to hold his own dick straight. His only sexual experience had been groping Laney Brubaker inside the athletic equipment shed behind the school.

Now he was older and more experienced. Ben could properly navigate a woman’s body. He knew just how to build a woman’s desire to bring her—and himself—the utmost pleasure. Thinking of the ride he could bring Maggie on had his zipper straining. Shit.

“Ben,” Aunt Sally repeated.

“Um…yeah, I’m fine,” he stuttered, looking anywhere but at Maggie.

“Well, I’ll just leave you two.” Sally stood.

Ben turned just as Maggie slumped down into the chair his aunt had vacated.

“You two kiddos have fun.” Sally nudged Ben’s shoulder.

What the hell did that mean? Ben stared at Maggie.

She stared at Sally, brows knitted, mouth still open.

Mouth. Open. He groaned.

“Don’t forget to show him the gorgeous plans his daddy drew up for the wedding barn.” Sally nodded at Maggie as if the drawings weren’t right in front of him.

“I will, Sally, thanks.” Maggie smiled before turning back to Ben.

“Bye, kids.” Aunt Sally gave a wink as she strolled away, singing Journey’s “Any Way You Want It.” She was a lousy singer, but her sense of timing was classic Sally.

“Bye,” Ben and Maggie said in unison.

Maggie laughed. “It’s hysterical to listen to her and your mom argue the merits of whose band is better, Journey or Bon Jovi.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never understood why your Aunt Lisa doesn’t get in on the arguments.”

Ben laughed. “She always said she doesn’t need to defend her ‘boys,’ as she calls the band. She’s confident in their superiority.”

Maggie chuckled.

Ben noted Maggie had a beautiful smile, and a great laugh. He couldn’t remember hearing the soft sound since high school, even though he’d come home for holidays and the occasional weekend here or there.

Maggie’s expression fell, her face serious, her shoulders taking on a stiff set. “So, did you get my email with the business plan?” The Maggie sitting before him now was drastically different than the one who’d been laughing a minute ago. She was all business, but there was a hopeful gleam behind the no-nonsense stare.

He hated to break her spirit, but she had to know her and his parents had been generous in their estimation of income for the coming year, not to mention the valuations had been based on his father working without taking a salary. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“And?”

“Look, Maggie, I know you guys have great intentions—”

Those mesmerizing green eyes flashed with anger and annoyance. “They’re not intentions, Ben. They’re clearly drafted and documented sales forecasts.”

He shook his head. “Maggie, your estimates of income for the coming year, I mean, you have to realize you might not get the numbers you’re hoping for.”

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Maggie—”

She raised a palm. “Stop. Your parents and I did our research when we began this expansion and those numbers are sound estimates based on our previous years’ data. We didn’t pull those numbers out of thin air and we didn’t err on the side of insanity. We went with conservative estimates. We’ve turned away business steadily for years, Ben. Did you know that, or have you been too busy nitpicking the plan, looking for flaws to find that out?”

Ben opened his mouth to remark but one glare from Maggie said she wasn’t finished yet, and he wasn’t welcome to speak until she was.

“The bank obviously believed in your mother’s vision,” she said, “enough to give your parents the loan. I’m not going to sit back while you and your brothers second-guess everything we’re doing here. If you want to help, then help. But don’t think you can do it by coming in and mucking everything up without any knowledge of the industry.”

Ben remained silent. He knew Maggie was heartbroken over his father’s death and he didn’t want to cause her more grief by hammering away at this in the lodge’s bistro. Nor did he want to point out the fact that his father’s free labor had been taken out of the equation.

Maggie closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, as if summoning a Zen god. Slowly her shoulders lowered and her fists unclenched. She exhaled, her eyes fluttering open, and glanced around the room before letting her gaze settle back on him. “Maybe we should go for a walk around the exterior and I can show you what we’re trying to do here,” she said calmly. “Maybe if you see it—”

“We don’t need a walk, Maggie. We need an overhaul of the renovation schedule.”

“Meaning?” Maggie glared.

“Meaning, there’s no viable way to finish the build-out of the private cabins and renovate the wedding barn before the bank reviews the first quarterly covenants. I’m not even convinced the buildings will be viable sources of income once they’re finished anyway.”

Maggie’s expression told him he only had a few seconds to get out what needed to be said.

“The fact remains,” he said, “the business plan was based on my dad working without a salary for at least a year, likely two. That dramatically changes how you can expect the covenant ratios to look. The bank needs to see a certain ratio of income to expenses. My dad’s death changes the results.”

“I know exactly what his death does, Ben. And I’ll make up the difference. I can work more hours to make up for it, and I’ve built a buffer into the business plan. We’ll make it.”

He shook his head. “There’s still the buildout.”

“The wedding barn and cabins were never meant to be ready in six months.” Maggie shook her head as though she was dealing with an idiot. “Our sales from the lodge, café and gift shop over the next few months have been earmarked for the first installment to the bank, and if we do this right, we can still meet the ratios and the booking requirements. The expanded number of rooms in the lodge, combined with a conservative estimate of our sales from the gift shop and café, will bring in enough income to sustain us. Did you read anything I sent you?”

“What I’ve read is that this is a secured loan, Maggie. Do you know what that means?”

“Don’t patronize me.” She narrowed her eyes as she spat the words.

Ben leaned over the table and spoke softer. “Fine. I won’t. If you understand this is a secured loan, then you understand that if this plan of yours fails, the lodge and the land go back to the bank. That doesn’t just mean this lodge, it includes the original bed and breakfast and my parent’s homestead.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

“My family’s entire livelihood and our childhood home along with the surrounding land will be repossessed. My mother will have nothing. Do you get that Maggie?”

Maggie glared and her face reddened. “The bank can choose to forbear, they can delay foreclosure if we don’t meet the covenants. We’d pay a fee and have to deal with someone coming out to check on us, but we could weather it. Not that it’s going to happen that way,” she rushed to put in, “but they could choose to forbear.”

Ben clenched his hands. “This land has been in my family since this town was established. It’s land my brothers and I don’t want to lose. And you can guarantee, with old man Noble serving on the board of directors at the bank, they’re more than hoping you’ll fail.”

Maggie sat back and crossed her arms over her chest as if making up her mind she wasn’t going to budge. “Our research and our numbers are sound. If you and your brothers want to help, then get on board and step in and pull a little of the weight we lost with your father’s passing—” her voice broke the smallest hint but she recovered quickly, “—the numbers will pan out and your land won’t be at risk. If you waste time and energy questioning everything we’ve already researched and hashed out, you’ll only ensure our failure.”

Ben’s own anger boiled hotter. “We’re talking about Thomas Noble, the man who’s been trying to take my family’s small piece of the mountain away from us for three decades. He wants the entire county, but he’s got a hard-on for our land, in particular, and he’ll stop at nothing to get it. He’ll even repossess my mother’s homestead no matter if it’s all she has left.”

The barest flicker of hesitation flashed in Maggie’s eyes. Had they really been this blind?

Ben raked a hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. “God, why did the three of you have to put the land up for collateral?”

Maggie’s nostrils flared as she gripped the table, her knuckles turning white.

Oh shit. It was the wrong thing to say. He realized that as soon as the words left his mouth, but he’d always been that way. Saying exactly what he thought, when he thought it. He wasn’t good with people. They had emotions and feelings, too many variables for Ben to assess at one time. He understood computers, coding, numbers. They didn’t talk back.

Maggie stood. “Go screw yourself, Ben Sumner.”

“Screw me?” Ben laughed but it was bitter as he realized she and his mom were likely going to dig in and double down on this bet the three of them had made. “Screw me? My family is the one who’ll be screwed if this thing goes south. And as far as I can tell, you won’t lose a thing.” Ben cocked a brow, begging her to respond.

He and Maggie were hardly being discreet at this point. Thankfully, the room was only filled with a few employees right now. Most of the guests were already out on the slopes.

Maggie bent low over the table, her blouse hanging open, revealing a light pink lace bra. A bra that should have been the very last thing Ben noticed or thought about in that moment. Her flowery scent accosted his senses, but he stayed focused on his anger and ignored his body’s unwelcome response, for the most part.

Maggie’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears but she kept them at bay as she spoke. “I already lost everything when your father died, and so did your mother. Rest assured, I won’t let Valerie lose this place, too. I’ll do anything it takes to make this plan work, whether you and your brothers decide to help or not.”

She stood to her full stature. He doubted Maggie was even five-two, but she stared down at him as if she were ten feet tall.

“You’re either on board with our expansion or you’re not,” she said through clenched teeth. “Your choice, Ben. But either way, I won’t have you filling your mother’s head with negative thoughts. You haven’t been here in a long time and you underestimate what we can do.”

Ben stiffened, completely shocked by Maggie’s confrontational behavior, and a little impressed by her take-charge attitude, if he were being honest. Not to mention turned on, but he wasn’t going to acknowledge that.

He and his brothers didn’t have a choice but to get on board and work at the lodge. Unless he could get through to his mother and Maggie—which wasn’t looking likely—they’d all have to work their asses off to make this dream of theirs happen.

Maggie’s lips curled slightly in victory, obviously realizing Ben had succumbed to her demands. “Now, if we’re done here,” she smoothed her shirt, “I need you up on the second floor.”

Ben stood. “Why are we moving?”

“You’re moving. I’m not.”

Suddenly the hackles on Ben’s necks rose in warning. “Why am I moving?”

Maggie smiled, slow and wicked, like a cat who’d just cornered the mouse. “You work for me, Ben, remember?” she said.

Oh shit. He had to get control before she ran right over him.

Ben straightened and took a step closer. “I work for you on the management side of this business,” he bit out.

Her smile widened. “We have a very hands-on management style at The Lodge at Canyon Creek.”

Ben didn’t like the laughter in her voice. “What does that mean?”

She smirked, her green eyes dancing with amusement.

Ben stood, towering over her. “Fine. Lead the way.” He waved a hand toward the doors leading to the lobby of the lodge.

“Follow me.” She turned and strode out of the café.

Ben glanced down at her sashaying ass. Yeah, he’d follow her all right.

“Ben!” Maggie snapped.

His gaze moved higher as her eyes flared with disapproval. Damn, he’d probably never get tired of seeing those eyes light up.

She pointed to the lobby, turned her back and marched on.

Taming his hard-on was becoming increasingly hopeless, but Ben drew in a deep breath and gave it a shot as he followed.

“Oh, Ben,” someone called behind him with a sickeningly sweet voice.

Ben turned.

Aunt Sally stood behind the counter of the café, waggling her long fingers with one hand. Something in his aunt’s mischievous expression assured him he would definitely not be having fun.

Aunt Sally cupped her mouth and spoke in a stage whisper. “She feeds on the weak, so you might want to buck up there, sailor.”

Ben waved Sally off and shook his head before turning to trail Maggie through the lobby. He stopped short when he saw her standing in front of a door marked “Employees Only.”

She pulled a plunger out from behind her back and shoved it toward him. “Room 214 is having some plumbing issues. Be a dear and deal with it.”

“But we need to talk, Maggie. The numbers—”

“We’re finished talking, Ben,” she said in an eerily quiet tone. She pushed the plunger harder into his chest. “You’ll need this. Unless you enjoy using your hands.”

Ben clutched the handle as Maggie released it, leaving him alone with a plunger and a sinking feeling in pit of his stomach.

Suddenly the expression oh, shit held a whole different meaning.