“It’s completely natural and will leave your skin clean, fresh and youthful.”

I took a deep breath and remembered to smile at the crowd gathered for the unveiling of my new skin scrub. I hated speaking in public, especially here in Truly, Oregon. My hometown. The place where I would forever be the odd little girl in the patchwork dresses and dirt under her nails.

“What about allergies?”

My friend Ken had volunteered to be my model for the day, which worked because the man was sex on a stick and half the women in my shop only showed up to gape at his tall, blonde, Nordic beauty.

I flashed a grateful smile. “There are no nuts or dairy, but I urge everyone to check the ingredients label carefully.” I slathered the oatmeal and sugar scrub over his face, hands and forearms, careful not to stain the gauzy white dress I’d chosen for today. It was how people expected me to look, which was fine since it fit in with my style preferences. Aside from the green framed glasses I needed so my world wasn’t blurry. “The best part of all is a quick wipe with a warm towel and you’re good to go!”

I felt like an informercial, but the town actually showed up to support me. Something that still surprised me after four years in business. I knew they appreciated the jobs I brought, however tiny they might be. “Come and feel how smooth Ken’s skin is.”

“You know I’m going to kill you later and hide your body in the next burn out,” he muttered under his breath.

“Doesn’t that violate some type of firefighter’s code?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” His blue gaze slid to the women, approaching him hungrily. “Don’t leave me here.”

I laughed and patted his shoulder. “Come on Ken, they’re your perfect captive audience. Your next lover could be in this very room,” I whispered to his scowling face, unable to stop the laughter.

“I’ll get you Kenz.”

That was his only reply as I skirted around the chair and display of new products, making my way to the long glass counter, edged with bamboo. Each time I looked around my shop, I couldn’t help but grin at how much I’d accomplished since moving back when Gran needed me. It was crisp green and a soft buttery white that gave everything a beautiful glow. Organics by O’Brien was, by all metrics, a success. Both the store as well as online sales were on an upswing and I felt good about that part of my life.

Too bad small town living didn’t lend itself to an active social life. But my business was here, so I guess I’d made my bed and now I was determined to lie in it.

Alone, apparently.

“Hey Kenzi, do you have more of that mint stuff?”

Matt’s deep voice pulled me from my musings. Or woolgathering as my Gran would call it. “The pain balm? Yes, I have new packaging.” Customers had been complaining about the plastic jars I’d used previously, so I listened. I held up the new tube. “Better?”

He flashed a wide grin, so bright against his dusky skin. The policeman looked exactly as he had in high school, only bigger. “Perfect. Now I don’t feel like I’m putting on makeup.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I rang him up. My Gran always said that men’s egos were more fragile than the finest China. “Good thing it now feels like old man cream, right?”

“Right,” he grumbled. “Old man cream.”

Matt was a good guy, at least he seemed to be. He treated me like a business owner and resident, not the strange girl everyone thought I was as a kid.

“I’m glad it’s helping, Matt.” His wife, Amber, joined him and I froze. I always got the feeling Amber didn’t like me, which didn’t make sense since she didn’t even really know me.

She rolled her eyes. “You could get three tubes of the cream from the drug store for these prices,” she grumbled, checking out her hundred dollar manicure.

Matt glared at his wife, who wore a carefully oblivious smile. “It works for me, and it smells a hell of a lot better than that pain cream from the pharmacy.”

“Whatever works,” I said and handed him the bag with a perfectly polite smile on my face. The truth was that my customers were dedicated to my brand because it worked, and it wasn’t filled with unpronounceable ingredients that could harm the skin.

My sales were up. I shouldn’t let Amber’s words get to me, but they did. They always did, because whenever I came into the store, I reverted back to being that insecure teenager I no longer was, and since I came in almost every day, it was pretty damn annoying. “Thanks for choosing Organics by O’Brien.”

Matt smiled and turned to leave with a wave, Amber by his side with a smirk on her face like there was some joke I didn’t know. There probably was, but I had too many other things on my mind to worry about what it was. My store was full and Ken had finally broken free of his groupies as he edged down the hall towards my office.

I felt a pair of eyes on me. But I was determined to ignore them because I had a feeling I knew exactly who’s eyes they were. Eyes I’d seen one time up close, in the throes of passion.

There in the corner near the cucumber bath sugar, was Chase. Big and tall, with wavy brown hair just a bit too long and light, sky blue eyes smiling at me as he waved.

I didn’t smile or wave in his direction. I turned and put him right out of my mind.

Just like he had, all those years ago.

* * *

I loved this time of year when I can put on a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a ratty old t-shirt that’s been washed about ten thousand times, and sink my hands and feet in the dirt. Gardening was one of my favorite things to do. I used to spend hours with my Gran in this same backyard, plucking tomatoes and green beans, and all kinds of vegetables. I hate that she’s gone. Three years and I still miss her, but having her house and this land, it’s like she’s right beside me giving me unsolicited advice about how to do things the right way. Meaning her way.

She was bossy and stubborn, but I loved her to death. “And I know you’d love these tomatoes,” I could help but hold one up to the sun. It was perfect and plump. Tempting.

I got a good haul of tomatoes and jalapenos, dandelion greens and plenty of blueberries. Oh, and some scallions. I felt pretty good about it as I set the baskets on the porch and reached for the pitcher of ginger peach tea I left brewing in the sun. I took a long slow gulp and turned my face up to the sun, smiling because I knew my natural sunscreen would protect me.

“So, you do know how to smile. It’s just me you hide it from.”

“Chase,” I groaned and snapped my eyes shut. Three months. Three frickin’ months and he’d avoided me the same way I’d avoided him. We had an implicit, if silent, agreement to stay the hell away from each other. “What are you doing in my backyard?”

“You can’t even look at me?”

I hated that sound, like he had the right to be hurt, so I opened my eyes and I really shouldn’t have. Chase up close was gorgeous, with his dark hair, smooth tan skin, and impossibly light blue eyes. He was too damn handsome. “I’m looking. Now, what do you want?”

His smile faded into a wary hopefulness as one big hand scraped through his wavy hair. “I was hoping we could talk.”

Talking was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. But my Gran had taught me proper manners, and despite how he’d treated me, I’d known Chase nearly all my life.

“Fine. Let’s talk, Chase.” I poured him a glass and pushed it in front of the chair across from me.

He walked closer and eyed the table. “This is nice. Where’d you get it?”

“Remember that tiny shed my grandpa called his Man Hut? This wood is from there. I made it.” His eyes went appropriately round and I grinned. “I painted the flowers too, if that’s feminine enough for you.”

“I didn’t mean that, it’s just, that the table is really nice. Except the flowers.” Yep, still as charming as a snake oil salesman.

“So, Chase, what are we doing here?”

“Right,” he said on a long, drawn out sigh. “I’ve been back for a few months now,” he stopped to shoot me a look of censure for ignoring him when we were neighbors. Next door neighbors. “I came because I didn’t want my folks to get rid of the house, but also because the Sterling land is perfect for my adventure business. Adventure Chasers will provide all types of controlled and wild adventures. You know my sister, she has no interest in settling down while there’re disasters, political unrest and famines to photograph.”

Well, it was the perfect business for him. But I wouldn’t tell him that, because then he might get the idea that I’d thought about him over the years. I hadn’t. But I liked to travel, and he just happened to be one of the most well-known travel writers.

“Your parents will be happy to have you closer, I’m sure.”

His whole face softened when he smiled, thinking of his family, and he looked like the kind of man who broke the heart of every woman he came across. Unintentionally. Mostly.

“Mom’s been pretty vocal about her pleasure. I’m sure they’ll drop by any day now.”

“Arizona isn’t exactly a day trip to Oregon, you know.”

He laughed. “Do you remember my parents? My mother might decide to move back in now that I’m settling here in Truly.”

I did remember them. They were very nice, kind of like those families on the sitcoms I watched with my grandparents. My mom wasn’t like those moms, she was more like the aunt who only dropped in twice during the whole series. I took another sip of tea and shook off those thoughts. They got me nowhere but distracted.

“You want something.” It wasn’t a question.

“I do. You know Pete Sterling?”

“Sure. He grew up ‘round here, but his brother inherited the farm and sold it quickly. He made a ton of money and bought the land. Comes around sometimes with his wife, Simona.” He was a nice old man, always trying to hook me up with one of his “men” which could be anyone from a ranch hand to a tax lawyer.

“Well he doesn’t trust a thirty-year-old man who isn’t married or preparing for that stage of his life.” Chase said that in a way that indicated that it was a direct quote. “And it doesn’t matter that I’m not thirty yet. So, I told him that I have a fiancée. And now I need one.”

“Me?” I had to clarify, because this was crazy. “Why?”

“Because you’re the only person I can trust to help me. Will you?”

He looked so earnest. So handsome. Too handsome and vulnerable. The same way he’d looked when he fooled me the first time.

“No.”

I stood and grabbed my basket before storming inside and slamming the door behind me.

Damn you, Chase Donovan.