Remy was just putting the finishing touches on her outfit for the Sunday post-church social when Shelby came in.

“Whoa! Hot mama,” Shelby said, wiggling her brows.

Remy blushed as she glanced down at her pale yellow cotton sundress.

“I’ve worn this to social before,” she said, feeling silly.

“Yeah, but not with your hair in a fancy updo like that,” Shelby said, stepping into Remy’s bedroom to circle around her and admire. “Is that a braid? Wait, are you wearing blush and mascara?”

“Well… yes,” Remy admitted. “I want to look nice, is that a crime?”

“Nooooo,” Shelby said, shaking her head. “It’s just, I figure you’re getting all dressed up for a reason. Hmm? Like a certain hunky soldier who’s just come back to town?”

“Shelby, don’t be ridiculous,” Remy said.

“Who is being ridiculous?” Shelby asked. “I’m just saying, you are dressed up awfully fancy just to go to the church social.”

Remy gave her sister a measured glance.

“We should get going. Don’t want to be late for the social, Mama will have a fit.”

Shelby gave Remy a knowing look, but Remy ignored her. Leaving her bedroom, she headed into the kitchen to pick up Shiloh. Settling her son on her hip, she walked into the living room. The rest of the family was outside in the driveway, or heading that way at least.

Except for her father, who was in the living room, clearly waiting to talk to Remy. He eyed her outfit and makeup with a rueful expression.

“That’s an awfully racy outfit you have on,” he said.

“Hardly. It’s knee length and covers everything but my arms. Besides, I can look nice if if the mood suits me,” Remy said, feeling testy. If she were being truthful, Shelby and her father were right. She was dressing up just in case a certain someone was at the social.

But only because she didn’t want Sawyer to see her looking downtrodden. Perhaps it was vain, a sin in its own right, but she only wanted her ex-boyfriend to see her at her best. And next to her gorgeous younger sister Shelby, it would be plenty easy for Remy to look dumpy and sleep deprived.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about? Other than my choice of outfit, I mean.”

“Yes, yes,” her father said, waving a hand. “Really quick, while your mother is loading all those pies into the truck. I was wondering if you got a chance to look at the budget, see if we can afford to replace the backhoe. It’s not working right, and it’s giving Micah a lot of trouble.”

Remy sighed.

“Daddy, we don’t have the money for that.” She paused. “We don’t have the money for anything.”

“I just thought…” He started, then trailed off. He glanced up at Remy, his eyes shining with earnest sincerity. “We just need one good year, you know that?”

“I know,” she said. She hated to be the bearer of bad news, but her father had put her in charge of trying to wrangle the poorly-kept financial records. As the oldest daughter, she wanted more than anything to be able to turn the whole situation around.

She wanted to be able to tell her father they could buy a new backhoe, or do any of the other hundred small things that needed to be done around the farm. Patch the roof of their house, for one thing. No more rain dripping into buckets every afternoon during hurricane season.

But that wasn’t reality. And if there was one thing that Remy was well-versed in, it was in dealing with the reality laid before her. After all, it wasn’t as if her life had run exactly according to plan so far.

Shifting Shiloh onto her other hip, Remy blew out a breath.

“I know that you keep waiting for the perfect year,” she told her father.

“Well, we have to get lucky eventually, right?” Braxton asked, his smile humorless. “We just need good rain, and good sun, and a good controlled burn this year. This could be our year, Remy.”

“It could also be our last year,” Remy said, making an apologetic face. “If we don’t straighten out the books, the farm can’t stay open for another year. We just can’t survive without turning a profit for so long.”

Her father glanced away while he worked to hide his disappointment.

“I understand,” he said. “Thank you for giving it a try.”

“Hey,” Remy said, putting her hand on her father’s arm. “Don’t give up yet. We just have to get inventive, come up with a solution. I’m pretty sure someone in the family is always saying that Rivers don’t give up, right?”

Her father gave her another humorless smile. “Right.”

“Remy! Brax!” Her mother called from the front door. “Y’all don’t want to find out what happens if you make me late to the social!”

Remy gave her father a knowing look and moved toward her mother’s voice, knowing that her mother’s tone might have been joking… but no one made Eulah River wait. It simply wasn’t done.

“Remy,” her father called. She turned back toward him.

“You know you can’t tell anyone else in the family about this, right? It would just kill your mother,” he asked.

Remy stared at him for second and then nodded. “I know.”

As she turned to leave again, her father gave a loud whistle, the same one he’d used to round up Remy and her siblings when they were kids. She turned back to him with a frown.

“Are you planning on taking Shiloh to the church social today?” he asked.

Her father settled into his favorite recliner, remote in his hand. Braxton River had never been much of a churchgoer, despite all of his wife’s pestering. It worked out for Remy now, seeing as how she didn’t like to take Shiloh to church.

Or anywhere, actually. Not that she was ashamed of her son; it was more that she didn’t want him exposed to any  potential unpleasantness.

Basically, she didn’t want Arlo Roman coming within 1000 feet of Shiloh.

“Right,” she said, shaking her head. She walked over and handed Shiloh off to her father. Shiloh went willingly, because Shiloh adored his grandfather. He always seemed to enjoy the quality alone time they spent each Sunday morning and afternoon.

“Be back soon, honey,” Remy told Shiloh.

Shiloh flapped his hands at her, unconcerned.

With a last nod to her father, Remy headed out to get in the car. Micah and her mother were taking the truck together, with an army’s share of fresh fruit pies  sitting between them.

Remy got into the back seat of Shelby’s car, content to listen to Larkin and Shelby’s chatter as they drove into town. Her mind was elsewhere, mostly considering what her life would be like when Shiloh was older. In a couple of years, he wouldn’t be so content to stay home with grandpa every single week.

She couldn’t hide him forever. Given the choice, though, she absolutely would. If she could keep Shiloh in homeschool and raise him amongst his family… if that was something she could do without killing his social skills and ruining him as a person…

Then absolutely, she would. The people of Catahoula could be kind and forgiving, but some of them were small-minded and petty. Unfortunately, it was the latter that were often the most vocal.

The circumstances of Shiloh’s birth were by no means his fault, and Remy would do anything she could to shield him from the consequences of her actions.

Or inactions, as it may be.

Where would I be today if I’d been courageous enough to tell Sawyer about his son? she mused.

She rolled her eyes at herself. Her mind went instantly to white dresses and wedding rings, which was ridiculous. It was insane, thinking that she might have married Sawyer, that he’d make all her problems vanish.

She was like a wide-eyed little girl, caught up in daydreams and fairy tales. That simply wasn’t the way the world worked, period.

Remy had been fighting with her mother about just this thing since Shiloh was 3 months old. Eulah River was a good Christian woman who had raised a good Christian family. In her mother’s mind, Remy leaving Shiloh home during church was tantamount to treason. Tolerant though Eulah might be, there was no such thing as an uncivilized and unbaptized child in her household.

Purely for the sake of saving herself another argument with her mother, Remy had agreed to have Shiloh baptized – in the next town over. The compromise worked, so now Shiloh’s soul was safe, and Remy’s privacy was somewhat respected.

Before Remy realized it, they were pulling up in front of one of the biggest houses on Catahoula’s main strip. A big white plantation house, with brand new construction. Flashy as all get-out, with a vast acreage of glorious green grass.

When Remy climbed out of the car with her two sisters, her mother was waiting.

“Grab some pies,” her mother said. “Head around the back of the house, Mrs. Faraday has got a beautiful gazebo set up back there. That’s where everybody will be.”

Remy accepted three foil wrapped pies from Micah, then led her mother and her siblings around the side of the plantation house and into the backyard.

The layout was even more beautiful than her mother had described, tables spread out all around the pristine white gazebo, lights strung in the trees. With the gazebo at the center, the yard sprawled out into little copses of trees, paved walking paths winding everywhere and cute little statues of cherubs spitting water adorning the paths.

There were already about 50 people milling about the food tables, quite a few faces that Remy recognized – even people who hadn’t even been in church that morning. Church socials took place every Sunday afternoon, rain or shine. It was pretty common for the majority of the town to show up, religious or not… basically anybody who wasn’t currently in social disgrace was welcome.

Remy delivered her pies to the already-overburdened dessert table. She turned and looked around, scanning the crowd. To her relief, or maybe her disappointment, the Roman family had yet to make an appearance. If they were even going to show up at all, that was.

“You want to get some lemonade?” her sister Larkin asked, appearing at her elbow.

“Oh, sure.” Remy trailed after Larkin, realizing that Shelby and Micah were right behind them. Classic River siblings, forming a human shield around whoever was struggling socially.

Of course, over the last two years, that person had always been Remy. Since the first day that she went into town with her pregnancy beginning to show, she’d been the weakest link amongst the four of them.

“Are you bummed?” Shelby asked as they took turns ladling lemonade from an intricate crystal punch bowl into tiny punch glasses.

“Why would I be bummed?” Remy asked, sipping her lemonade.

Shelby just snorted and looked away, giving Remy time to look around the party. Maybe it was better that the Roman family didn’t show up at all. This morning, she’d been terribly shocked to find that the Roman brothers were not only in church this morning, but sitting only one pew ahead of the Rivers.

All three Roman brothers kept looking back at her, being about as sneaky as Shiloh when he was trying to hide something. For her part, Remy spent the entire service pointedly ignoring all of the Romans, but she’d be darned if she heard a single word of the sermons.

Just when she thought she’d dodged the same bullet at the social, Arlo Roman turned up.

Sawyer’s father stalked into the backyard about half an hour later with his new wife-to-be, but none of the Roman sons seemed poised to make an entrance anytime soon. Remy busied herself socializing with some of the older ladies, especially the ones who didn’t get out of the house much. Spinsterdom was very much alive and well in Catahoula, and since Remy figured she was headed that way eventually, spending time with her future kin seemed like the polite thing to do.

Well, that, and the fact that those ladies were some of her strongest supporters during the first year of Shiloh’s life. For a while, Remy had been a town outcast, despite the fact that hardly anyone had come right out and called her names to her face. This was the South, where social politics all happened by word-of-mouth, at socials and picnics just like this one.

So Remy settled herself in a circle of older women, feeling a strange kind of comfort as she listened to them rehash and pick apart the week’s goings-on in Catahoula. One she was ensconced in her little group, it freed up Shelby and Larkin and Micah to go do their own thing, which was a bonus. Remy was content fetching drink refills and holding her tongue, though the irony of being confined to such a group when she was only 28 years old was not lost on her.

At length, her mother came over. Though Eulah didn’t travel in the same circles as the other older ladies, preferring her own company, she was perfectly friendly with them. She settled in and sat next to Remy, fanning herself with the program from the morning’s church service.

“You need something, Mama?” Remy asked her.

“I think I got everything I need, sweet girl,” her mother said, patting Remy on the hand. “I just wanted to come spend some time with my firstborn daughter. I feel like I hardly see you these days, between working for your father, your job in town, and taking care of Shiloh.”

“Mama, we live in the same house.”

Remy’s mother favored her with a smile. “I know, baby. I just get to missing you, is all. I can’t say how excited I am to hear y’all sing this afternoon. It’s been too long.”

Remy nodded. Though her mother had never worked outside the home, Eulah River had once been the church’s choir director. Though her mother could barely sight-read music, and while Eulah didn’t have the best voice, she always said gospel music was in her blood. She’d raised her four children accordingly, filling them with the love of music and group performance.

To this day, Remy and her siblings performed as a quartet. Usually a cappella, though sometimes Micah would play along on his guitar, or sometimes Shelby would provide them with simple piano accompaniment.

“We’re only doing a few songs today, but I promise you I think you’re gonna like our selection,” Remy told her mother.

“I like anything with a melody that gives glory to God,” her mother said with a soft smile.

Remy smiled back, suddenly finding herself wishing that she had the same strength of faith that her mother had. She went to church regularly, of course. And she did believe in most of the church’s teachings, but not all of it. In Catahoula Baptist Church especially, Remy often felt a little out of place.

Maybe it was the fact that she herself was what some might consider a fallen woman. Maybe it was just her age, the fact that she was still young and curious and accepting of new things. She just felt that oftentimes people at church could be harsh and cold, especially in situations where they maybe didn’t have the best understanding of the context.

Life was complex, and sometimes when you faced challenges, you just had to do the best you could with what you had. Knowing that everyone in town was judging and plotting against you didn’t help anyone a single bit, at least not in Remy’s recent experience.

“Are you all right, sugar?”

Remy turned to find her mother looking at her with concern.

“Oh, yes,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just thinking about our performance.”

“Well, as much as I imagine it’s nice to get away from your parental duties for an afternoon,” her mother said, “I must admit that I wish Shiloh were here.”

Remy glanced over to the gazebo, where more than two dozen kids of varying ages were playing a game of tag. Shiloh might yet be young, but soon he’d be of the age to play with other kids just like the ones here at the social.

Remy turned her gaze to the group of twentysomething mothers, the social group that she should fit into… Except that she’d had a child out of wedlock, and her peers weren’t exactly shy about sharing their opinions on the matter.

Heaven knew what they said in front of their kids about Remy and Shiloh; Remy flinched at the thought of sending Shiloh to school with those children, who would in all likelihood parrot back all those hateful things to Remy’s son.

“Remy, darlin’,” her mother said, tapping her on the arm with her paper fan. “Don’t you worry about them.”

Remy smiled at her mother, amazed always that she knew exactly what each of her children was thinking. Remy’s mother and father were complete extremes; her dad usually oblivious, and her mother empathetic almost to a fault.

“It’s like you read my mind, Mama,” she said.

“Well,” her mother said. “We’ll see how much you appreciate me when the time comes to talk about putting Shiloh in public school. I know you think you’re homeschooling the boy, but I’m willing to go to the mat with you on that one.”

Remy arched a brow. “Is that right?”

“Mmmhm,” her mother murmured.

“He’s got a good life,” Remy said, suddenly feeling defensive. “I know we don’t have much, but Shiloh has a house full of people who love him. He’s got a lot more love in his life than most people do.”

Remy’s mother crossed her arms and gave her a stern look.

“Girl, don’t you go putting all the things you feel about yourself onto that little boy. Lord knows, if you have the choice, you’d hunker down and probably never leave the farm again.”

Remy gave her a look, but couldn’t disagree. “So? There are worse things.”

“Well, if it was just about what you actually enjoy, and about being happier around your family than around outsiders, that would be one thing. But that’s not it,” her mother said. “You refuse to make friends or leave the nest because you’re scared to take a risk. You want to control everything in your life, protect yourself and protect Shiloh.”

It was everything Remy could do not to snap back at her mother. She took a deep breath and exhaled, closing her eyes for a brief moment before responding.

“Mama, it’s my life. I don’t understand why you keep resisting my choices, since you love the fact that we still live at home.”

“I’d like it more if you weren’t so busy lining the nest of your own gilded cage,” her mother said, pursing her lips.

“Well, tough turkeys. We don’t always get what we want, do we?”

Remy turned away, just in time to see the three Roman brothers coming around the side of the yard.

“Crap,” she muttered.

Sawyer was in the lead, as always. Looking handsome as sin in a white dress shirt, dark jeans, and a crisp new cream-colored Stetson. All that was missing from his look was a good pair of weathered cowboy boots, and he’d blend right in with the rest of Catahoula.

It was a trick, of course… Sawyer was a level above his hometown peers, always had been. He didn’t belong in Catahoula, not in the long-term.

“Well,” Remy’s mother said. “Speak the name of the devil, and he shall appear.”

“Mama!” Remy said, stifling a laugh. “That is not a nice comparison.”

Eulah merely fanned herself and batted her eyelashes, looking not one single bit regretful. Her expression turned to distaste as Arlo Roman and his hoity-toity new fiancée walked over, meeting the Roman brothers in front of the gazebo.

It only took Sawyer a few moments to locate Remy, pinning her with his gaze. Arlo was right on his son’s heels, shooting Remy a glare the second he saw her.

Like she’d done something wrong, just by being in the presence of his prodigal son.

“Jerk,” she muttered under her breath.

“Now who is not being nice,” her mother asked. Remy made a face, knowing that her mother didn’t know the extent of Arlo’s threats against Remy and Shiloh.

Remy, for her part, avoided both their gazes and focused on her mother. She forced herself to concentrate on the women around her, not looking up again until the social hostess called everyone to attention.

“Hello, everyone!” their hostess Mrs. Faraday shouted. “If we could all please settle down and find a comfortable spot, the entertainment is about to begin. It’s our lucky day, because the River Siblings Quartet is going to perform for us. Isn’t that nice?”

There was a light smattering of applause, as Remy and her siblings rose and headed toward the gazebo. Remy could feel her pulse pick up, her hands begin to sweat as she climbed the steps. Even with Larkin and Shelby and Micah at her side, she found it difficult to turn and face the crowd.

She cleared her throat and  closed her eyes, summoning her courage. Just because some of the people in town didn’t approve of her, didn’t approve of the choices she’d made, well, that didn’t mean she should quit doing the things she loved.

And singing, that was something she loved.

Maybe she struggled for faith sometimes, sitting in church. But the moments when she was singing, totally wrapped up in the lovely melody of a classic country gospel song… In those moments, Remy took flight like she had wings.

Micah started tapping his foot, beginning the beat to “Can The Circle Be Unbroken”.

The song was slow and sweet, the melody a perfect blend for the siblings. Remy and Shelby sang soprano, Larkin sang contralto, with Micah coming in as a tenor or baritone as needed.

Their harmonies dipped and soared, pulling her into the rhythm. Remy completely forgot about their audience, about her problems, even her concerns about Sawyer’s father. It all faded away as they slipped into “Farther Along” and “Coat Of Many Colors”.  By the end of the first song, everyone else seemed to have forgotten all but the music, too.

There was a huge burst of applause after every song, especially leading into the finale of “Amazing Grace”.

Halfway through their last song, Remy opened her eyes and looked out into the crowd. She instantly locked gazes with Sawyer, her voice faltering when she saw the intensity glowing in his hazel eyes. He was watching her like a hawk, not swaying or tapping his foot to the music like everyone else.

He was watching her, only her.

Remy started to feel hot all over, and this time it wasn’t stage fright. Larkin nudged her in the ribs with an elbow, and Remy caught up the melody once more, but she couldn’t look away from Sawyer. He’d taken off his hat, showcasing his dark hair.

She hadn’t had time to notice the last time she saw him, back at the bar, but his hair really started to grow out – enough to be a little bit curly on top, which made her stomach flip-flop for some reason.

As the song came to a close, she ran a hand over her dress. She’d had a baby, her body changing as she aged. Not that she didn’t keep herself up, but she was a woman now — not a thin, perky teenaged girl.

Sawyer, on the other hand, looked better than ever. He’d always had the height, of course, but his time in the military had packed his form with thick muscle, filled him out in ways that made her feel a little faint.

She hated that, the way men got better with age. Women started to slowly wrinkle and expand, usually hips first. Sawyer was definitely in no danger of that…

The audience applauded, snapping her out of her reverie. She turned to find Shelby grinning at her. When her sister winked, Remy went red.

“No need to explain, really,” Shelby said. “I’ve seen the Roman men. They’re darn near irresistible. And you have the fortune of knowing that firsthand.”

“Shelby!” Remy said, feeling a little scandalized. They headed down the stairs and over to the refreshment table. All four siblings were forced to stop here and there to receive praise from the church members, thanking them in return.

“Well, I’m just saying. It isn’t like there’s a doubt about it,” Shelby said. “Or was Shiloh an immaculate conception?”

“The mouth on you,” Remy scolded.

Shelby arched a brow, like she wanted to push the topic further, but she changed the subject instead.

“I just want to come right out and say it,” Shelby said, grabbing a bottle of water from the drink table.

“Well, you’re already being a little roundabout,” Remy said.

“I’m rooting for you and Sawyer to get together,” Shelby said.

Remy paused in the middle of twisting the cap off her bottle of water. “What?”

“Come on. It’s sooooo obvious,” Shelby said. “High school sweethearts, reunited…”

Remy grabbed Shelby’s wrist and led her away from the main group, down one of the little walking paths. Glancing around to make sure they were out of earshot, she took her sister to task.

“Shelby, I’m not sure if you’ve somehow forgotten this in the last few seconds, but Sawyer and I have more connecting us than just a high school fling,” she snapped.

“Yeah, duh. That’s my point,” Shelby said, crossing her arms.

“Listen. Me and Sawyer? Never, ever going to happen. If he wanted to, he could sue me for custody. The fact that I never told him about Shiloh, the fact that the Romans have the money for a big fancy lawyer? That means a judge might side with him. I could lose custody. Is that what you want?” she asked.

Shelby narrowed her eyes not. “Of course not. That’s an unfair thing to say.”

“Well, that’s what I’m facing here. So I can’t be mooning around after Sawyer, or any other man in town for that matter. No one can know. No one.”

“You’re so mean when you’re being a scaredy-cat,” Shelby said, shaking her head.

“Is it so wrong to fear for my son?” Remy asked, outraged.

“Yeah, if you’re basing all of this on the supposition that Sawyer would try to take Shiloh from you. He’s a really good guy, always has been. You know him. You know that better than anybody.”

“It’s been years, Shel. He left town 12 years ago! And until last week, I hadn’t seen him in nearly four years. He’s been all over the world, seen all kinds of stuff. Micah says that he’s got all kinds of problems, PTSD and stuff.”

“And that’s a strike against him?” Shelby asked, looking angry.

“No!” Remy cried, stamping her foot. “No, not in itself. My point is that I don’t know Sawyer Roman, not anymore. I can’t just… assume he’ll do the right thing.”

“But you can keep lying to him, indefinitely?” Shelby asked. “You’d better start praying that he moves back to the city, Remy. ‘Cause otherwise, the two of you trapped in this little backwater together? No way in hell are you keeping your little secret. Not for long.”

“Shelby—” Remy said, aggrieved.

“No. I think I’ve heard enough,” Shelby said. “I’m going to go fix myself a plate of food. Maybe when you’ve come back to your senses, you can join me.”

Shelby stomped off, leaving Remy scowling after her. Looking around, Remy turned down the footpath, taking the opposite direction of Shelby.

A little ways down, she found a small goldfish pond with a cement bench beside it. Sitting down, she mulled over her sister’s words as she watched the orange and black fish flitting around in the water.

Yeah, okay, maybe I am a scaredy-cat, she thought. But I’ve jumped the gun and let myself be spontaneous a handful of times in my life, and none of them ever turned out for me. Much as I love Shiloh, he’s the product of my last walk on the wild side…

She heard footsteps. Looking up, she scowled when she saw Sawyer coming down the path toward her. She started to rise, ready to leave, but he held up his hands in surrender.

“Whoa, hey. White flag, white flag. I just want to talk.”

“We talked the other night,” Remy said, remaining seated even though Sawyer moved close. “What else is there to say?”

“Can I sit?” Sawyer asked, nodding to the other end of the bench.

Not wanting to be that kind of petty, Remy shrugged. “Fine.”

As soon as he sat down, she regretted it. He dominated the small space, his big body nearly touching hers. Not intentional on his part, even… he was just a huge guy.

All around huge, she thought, then blushed.

Really, thinking about his… package? Where is this coming from?

“Is there something going on with you and one of my brothers?” he asked.

Remy blinked, then stared at him in confusion.

“Your brothers? Uh, definitely not.”

Sawyer’s hazel eyes narrowed. “See, it’s funny. Every time I so much as mention your name, they both get all tongue-tied. I get the feeling there’s something they don’t want me to know. I thought maybe it’d be best to come right to the source.”

Remy watched him for a second, then slowly shook her head.

“No. I would never.”

“Well, there’s something going on,” Sawyer said. “Maybe I’m not as smart as Walker, but I know that much.”

Remy worked to keep her expression blank.

“I couldn’t tell you,” she said.

“I’ve been trying to think what else it might be, you know?” Sawyer said, his tone almost conversational instead of that of a direct question. “Like, you have a secret fiancé, you have a problem with starting fires and burning down buildings…”

Remy snorted. “No, sorry.”

“Hmm,” he said, fixing his gaze on her again. “Guess I’ll just have to keep my detective hat on for a little while longer then, huh?”

A dimple flashed in his cheek. Vaguely, Remy knew that his words should fill her with dread, the way she felt when Arlo had threatened her.

It was hard to feel that way when she looked at Sawyer. Instead, it made her think of sun-kissed summer days and stolen kisses behind the school bleachers. It made her think of when they were crowned prom king and queen, and when Sawyer’d first told her he loved her, way back in middle school.

“I like your hair grown out a little, like that,” she blurted out. She felt her cheeks grow pink, and she felt like a silly teenage girl again.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked. His gaze dipped from her face down to her body, just for a second. “I like a lot of things about you, Remy.”

He reached out and skimmed the backs of his fingers down her shoulder, and it was all Remy could do not to moan. How long had it been since she’d been touched by a man?

Remy shook her head. “I’ve changed a lot since you saw me last.”

“Maybe, but I still think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“Sawyer… I’m not… I’m not that girl, anymore.”

Something flared in Sawyer’s eyes, but he didn’t challenge her.

“I’m starting to understand that, now. I just wish you’d tell me what happened to make you feel that way.”

Hmmm, maybe being all but abandoned by you, getting threatened by your father, and then going through 18 hours of labor with just my mother at my side? she thought, feeling a flash of bitterness.

Not that she could say any of it to Sawyer, but there was certainly a small part of her that wanted to lash out at him, pound her fists on the solid wall of his chest, make him understand.

Instead she said, “I’m not the girl you knew, Sawyer. Life went on when you were gone. I have other things in my life. Responsibilities. Baggage.”

Sawyer’s brows lifted. “You mean the farm?”

Remy frowned. “Well… no, but… yes. It’s more than that.”

Sawyer leaned closer, just a fraction, but suddenly Remy couldn’t seem to catch a breath.

“What if I told you that I don’t care about any of that?” he asked.

This close, his eyes filled with heat, his body brushing against hers… it was persuasive. Sawyer consumed her, the clean male scent of him filling her senses, making her forget everything else…

“What do you want, Sawyer?” she managed to ask, her lips trembling.

He sucked in a breath, his gaze dropping to her lips. She had the barest second of recognition before he descended, his mouth pressing against hers in a possessive, demanding kiss.

He cupped her jaw, his lips working over hers. After a moment of frozen indecision, she sighed, giving him an opportunity.

Sawyer teased her with the tip of his tongue, reminding her just how talented that tongue could be. Even back in school, before she’d given up her innocence to him, that tongue had given her pleasure countless times.

When his other hand settled on the small of her back, slowly drawing her closer, she almost let him.

Almost.

Her hands flew up, pushing at his shoulders. She broke the kiss, shaking her head.

“No,” she said, both to Sawyer and herself. “This isn’t right.”

“Remy…” he said.

“I swear, I thought maybe you’d changed a little bit since high school. You really haven’t though,” she said with a frown.

“Tell that to the decade I served in the Navy,” he said, his brow creasing.

“I’m not talking about your work ethic, Sawyer. I’m talking about the way you are with women. How many other girls are you running around with these days, huh?”

Sawyer gave her a look. “None, right this moment.”

“Uh huh. And later tonight, you’re not going to be on the phone to one of your girlfriends back in D.C.?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“So, you’re actually worse than before. You can’t even keep a girlfriend now?” she demanded to know.

“Why the hell would I want to do that?” he spat, then pulled a face as if already regretting his words.

She stood, a rush of anger filling her chest. Though it was more for herself than for Sawyer, she turned her bitterness outward.

“You can’t just waltz back in here and think I’m going to fall into your lap, Sawyer. I’m not some… floozy, you can just pick up and put down when you want. I’ve moved on with my life, just like you did.”

He reached out and snagged her hand. “Is there someone else, Remy?”

She stared at him for a second. If she just said yes, right this second, there was a chance that Sawyer would back off.

Then again, she shouldn’t have to use the excuse of belonging to some other man to make Sawyer respect her wishes.

“No,” she said. “There’s no one, but it doesn’t change the way I feel.”

“I think I could change your mind,” Sawyer said, cocking a brow.

The cocky smile that slid onto his face was almost more than she could bear.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve proven that time and again with countless other girls over the years,” she snarled. “I’m not your plaything, Sawyer. Find someone else’s head to mess with.”

Whirling, she fled, furious with the tears that threatened to break free. Though she was mad at Sawyer, she was more upset with herself. Everything that was happening now, it was happening because she let herself be weak around him.

Like she didn’t understand the consequences, like she didn’t understand the stakes of this little game.

Play with fire, you’re bound to get burned…