“We’re gonna get a little sleep,” Trey says, looking guilty that he and Brad need a little bit of couple time. It’s late, and after a long day where Trey showed off his culinary skills and Brad’s done his best to entertain me and get me out of my funk, they’re just about femaled out. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reassure them, raising my glass of red wine. “See you in the morning.”

They head toward the back bedroom and go inside. I wasn’t so sure about their tagging along, even if it was only for a few days, but now that I know who’s next door, I’m glad they’re here.

I sit back, sipping my wine and finally taking a moment to enjoy the cabin. It’s stunning. One large main room holds the living, dining, and kitchen areas, and there are two bedrooms, one off each side. Thank goodness the bedrooms are split because I have a feeling I will want to be far away from Trey and Brad’s activities this weekend. I love them, but Trey is still my brother. The cabin is decorated in a true alpine style, with snowshoes on one wall, a pair of crossed axes over a stone fireplace, and a rustic charm that makes it feel like a mountain paradise. When paired with the views from the porch outside, I truly feel like I’ve found God’s country.

If only it weren’t for my neighbor to my back. I shake my head, looking out the back window toward his cabin.

His cabin is rougher, squatter, more . . . untamed than what I’m in. That was Aubrey today. Even though he was injured, he was wild, untamed, towering as he stood in the field on a leg and a half. His chest was huge, stretching the flannel shirt he was wearing and . . .

Fuck. I can feel the warm, instinctual tremble in my belly that I used to feel for him and it has me worried. He hurt me. He broke my heart. He’s a bastard who should be left out here in the woods. Hell, if I’d known it was him, I would’ve left his ass lying there.

But it’s a lie. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, especially Aubrey.

Goddammit. I can’t even be mad at him. I take a deep breath and pour myself another glass of wine, knowing I’m going to have a headache tomorrow but not really giving a fuck. If ever there’s a time for a drunken trip down memory lane, it’s when you see the high school sweetheart who was your first everything . . . including your first, and only, broken heart. Besides, I’m a nurse. I’ve got a half-dozen hangover cures. Some of them even work.

Taking a fortifying drink of wine, I decide to take the bull by the horns and dive into my thoughts about Aubrey from today. The fact is, ten years have made him even more handsome than he was. He always dwarfed me, but he’s even bigger now, both taller and wider than the boy in my memories. And the soft sweetness he once had is gone. He’s more rugged now, his hair a little longer, but the gruff look only makes him more delicious.

Fuck. I hate that last thought, but it’s the truth. Even if we didn’t have history, I want to feel what his body promises. I want to feel rough, calloused hands on my skin, squeezing my ass as his lips nip at my neck. I want to climb him like a tree and trace every inch of his muscles. I want him to hold me up and pound into me so hard I bounce on his cock. But with the sweet agony of what we used to share mixed in with image of him fucking me hard . . . it’s even more enticing.

Ugh . . . no, Ana. Stop right there. That’s got bad idea written all over it. But it’s the truth, as ugly as it is. I was angry today, still am, but there’s obviously still something about him that calls to me, especially when he drops back into my life looking like a mountain man who could wrangle my body like a romance novel god. And I’m on such a dry run, my weak body might just overwhelm my responsible mind. I haven’t had a lover since I moved back to town, and quite frankly, I feel like a freshly-dewed virgin again. Sounds like a bad porn movie, The Twenty-Eight-Year-Old Virgin Nurse.

Sighing, I drain half my wine glass and look into the drink’s depths for answers. Maybe I should just say fuck it and leave? That’s probably the smart thing to do. I’ve still got the time off from work. I can crash at home and just chill out, avoid the whole Aubrey issue, and just pretend today never happened.

An owl hoots outside, and I look out to see a beautiful landscape of the moon over the mountains. I walk out onto the porch and around, looking up at the perfect moon and the diamond pinpricks of the stars on the black velvet sky. It’s amazing, and so peaceful I can feel the stress of the day almost dropping away as the moonlight bathes me in softness. I need this, a getaway from work, and if I go home, I know I’ll end up covering someone’s shift again. But here? Here, I can just . . . be. No timeline, no demands on my attention, no life or death decisions.

Nah, no way in hell am I going to let Aubrey with his sexy brown eyes, chiseled arms, and rumbly voice chase me away from this. He broke my heart once, but we’re adults now. He can stay on his side, I’ll stay on mine, and it’ll be fine. I realize that maybe doesn’t sound like the most adult way to behave, but it’s what I’ve got. I need this vacation, need some time in the woods, need to finally let the past go and move on for a better, fuller future.

“What in the world were you doing outside last night?” Trey asks as he slides my omelet from the skillet to my plate. “It was cold in here. It must’ve been freezing out there!”

“And I had clothes on. I’m still here. I didn’t die,” I reply sarcastically, pulling my fluffy robe tighter around me for warmth. “Felt warmer last night than it does now. Damn, Brad, how long’s it going to take to get that fire going? Thought you were all domestic now.”

Brad, who’s kneeling over by the fireplace and fiddling with some log setup design more Lincoln log than fire-worthy, looks back and sticks out his tongue. “Bitch, I’m a domestic fucking goddess. But I’m a twenty-first-century domestic goddess, not this caveman shit.”

Leaving Brad to whatever he’s doing lest I get roped into helping, I look back to Trey, who’s busy stirring the vegetable hash on the stovetop. “Figured you would’ve been too busy to notice me going outside anyway,” I tease.

Trey blushes but winks at me, then he leans over to get a peek at Brad’s ass before locking his eyes back on mine. “Just watching out for my little sister. Wouldn’t want you to get eaten by a bear or . . . anything else.” His words are more warning than an expression of concern, and I know he’s telling me to watch out for Aubrey. I give him a little nod of understanding, knowing he’s right and having already come to that conclusion myself.

Suddenly, Brad lets out a little cheering sound. “Yes! I have made fire!”

I look over to see a tiny little flame that’s barely the size of my thumb, but it’s there, and it’s spreading quickly. “Woohoo . . . great job, Brad! From now on, let’s just keep the fire going. Thankfully, we’ve got plenty of wood.”

“Speaking of plenty of wood,” Brad says, rolling his eyes when Trey snorts, “Not that, you pervert.” He gestures to the pile of logs stacked next to him. “You know where all this came from, right? Big Stud next door.”

“Don’t even start,” I declare, giving him a scowl before taking a sip of coffee.

Brad grows serious. “Okay, okay. But really, are you going to be okay with our neighbor on your own?”

“We’re exes, Brad,” I reply simply, not knowing just how much Trey told him last night. “But I’m not going to let him ruin a perfectly good vacation. He just needs to respect the boundaries and stay clear.”

“You see, that’s got me worried,” Trey says softly. “Ana, I was there before. I saw how devastated you were back then, but you can’t have this much animosity against him ten years later.”

I half growl, cutting into my omelet. “He broke my heart, Trey. It’s not like I still walk around pining for him, but I don’t have to forgive him just because it’s been a long time and he popped up in front of me.”

“That might be true,” Trey says, placating me. “But Ana . . . babe, this is a chance for you to heal that issue. I’m not saying to get back with him, far from it. Just a chance to get closure.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil,” I grumble, though I don’t mean to sound bitchy. He’s probably right, but I don’t know if I could have a serious conversation with Aubrey. I’d either start yelling, or crying, or jump his bones, and I don’t want to do any of that. “I don’t need to go back to that time. It’s done and over with. I’ve moved on, he’s moved on . . . we’ll just avoid each other and it’ll be fine.”

Trey doesn’t say anything, just looks at me with those big puppy dog eyes of his as he eats his breakfast, a much healthier version of what he’s giving me. Brad takes his seat and gives me a look, letting me know he’s not done speaking by a long shot.

“Honey, from my point of view, you’ve got options. Talk to him or don’t, fuck him or don’t, ignore him completely or don’t.” Trey nearly chokes when Brad says, ‘fuck him’, and my jaw drops open in protest. Brad ignores both of us and barrels ahead. “There’s not a wrong choice here. You need a vacation and you’re here already. Just go with the flow, and whatever you decide to do, we’ll back you.”

He gives Trey a hard look, unusual for them since Trey is usually the sane one to balance Brad’s craziness. But I appreciate their advice and especially Brad’s promise that they’ll support me. “Look, guys, I don’t know what you want me to say here. I haven’t thought about Aubrey in years, not really. And admittedly, running into him has me spinning. So my first instinct is just to avoid the whole thing. I wasn’t looking for closure, don’t need it or to reminisce about the good old days. I definitely don’t need to fuck him, no matter how sexy he grew up to be. I just need a vacation. Some peace and quiet.” Shit, probably shouldn’t have admitted I noticed how hot Aubrey has gotten, but it’s not like they didn’t see for themselves.

Brad’s eyebrows shoot together as he smiles. “I didn’t see him before, but I will say that man is fine as fuck. No judgment if you do decide to go the sex route, but I will expect details.”

“Enough,” Trey says as he smacks Brad on the arm. “Ana, do whatever you need to do . . . avoid him or talk to him. Let us know if you need backup.”

I notice he left out Brad’s third suggestion because Brad is mouthing ‘fuck him’ at me with a smirk and nodding his head yes. I laugh out loud, and Trey sighs, the long–suffering sound more playful than truly annoyed.

“We’re heading out for a hike today, if you’re okay?” Trey asks, still looking a bit uncertain whether I’m going to dissolve into teenage broken-hearted tears once I’m alone.

“You two go have some fun. It’s your vacation too. I’ll be fine. I’m planning on doing nothing today but lying on the couch, drinking cocoa, and reading some romance novel involving a Mafia hitman who finds the woman of his dreams and hangs it up.”

“Oh, I read that one,” Brad says, getting up. “She dies and he goes all John Wick vengeance mode, ends up worse than he started. Sorry to tell you.” He laughs, and I point a finger at him and narrow my eyes, wishing I were more threatening, even in a joking manner.

I wave him off and clean up the dishes while the guys get ready. After they leave, I grab my Kindle and try to do exactly what I told them, letting the heat from the fire warm me. I bury myself in the story, but every time I try and imagine the tall, dark hero, all I see is Aubrey in my head.

Sighing, I set my tablet aside, flopping back on the couch to look at the ceiling. Shit, I can’t put up with this for weeks. I want to go talk to him, I want to take the axe on the wall to his balls, I want to hold those balls in my hand as I get ready to suck him deep and long, and I want to know what the hell happened back then.

Unable to just sit on my ass any longer, I get up, intending to go to the kitchen for a drink of water. As I reach for the kitchen cabinet, my hand freezes.

“Aubrey . . . what the fuck are you doing?” I whisper as I watch his front door open and he emerges. He’s walking stiffly, but the main thing is, he’s on his damn ankle. Crossing his front yard slowly, his dog at his side, he goes over to a chopping block before reaching down and grabbing the thermal undershirt he’s wearing to peel it off.

His chiseled upper body emerges into the sunlight. He’s massive, thick ridges of muscles on his abs leading up to a rock-hard chest, all of it covered in a fine coating of hair that has my mouth watering.

Damn it, he’s doing this on purpose. It’s cold as hell outside.

Reaching down, he picks up a log about the size of my waist before placing it on the chopping block, and then he turns to grab his axe. I’m treated to the sight of a back that looks capable of carrying the whole mountain.

I marvel at the perfection in front of me as he whips his axe over his head and it comes crashing down into the huge log, splitting it from top to bottom and sending the pieces tumbling. Damn it, the fool is completely ignoring my advice.

He limps over and picks up one of the halves, almost an insult to my nurse training as he leans on his axe for support again as he bends over to get the half.

Turning back to the chopping block, he stumbles, and that’s enough. I run to my room, ditching my bathrobe and pulling on some jeans and the hoodie that I’d packed. Yanking my boots on, I walk outside, quickly making my way across the space between us as Aubrey brings his axe down again.

As I walk, I’m again struck by how beautiful the day is. The sun’s rising high, the sky is so blue that it makes my eyes want to water, and the air smells so clean it’s like filling my body with pure energy.

Aubrey is just as breathtaking as he picks up another chunk of wood, a light sheen of sweat already glistening on his body. His dog, Rex, I think, is lying nearby, just out of range of the flying shards.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask as Aubrey pauses, seeing me for the first time before setting his axe down.

“Chopping wood,” he says, and this close, I can still see the pain etched in his face. “Same as everyday.”

I glance over my shoulder, lifting an eyebrow. “Aubrey, there’s a pile that runs the whole length of the cabin over there,” I point out. “There’s more than enough. Didn’t I tell you to stay off your ankle?”

“Out here, you always need more wood,” Aubrey replies, ignoring the part about the ankle. I look back at him, a naughty voice in my mind saying that yes, I do need some wood . . . but not the kind he can cut with an axe. “Besides, you’re not a doctor.” And the dismissal shuts that naughty voice right up.

“No, I’m the one who bandages stubborn asses like you up,” I shoot back. “If you keep that up, you’re going to make it worse.”

I’m pissed at myself as I hear my voice, which sounds not stern or upset but worried about Aubrey. Dammit, I’m supposed to be stronger than this, but as he faces me fully, resting his hands on his hips and drawing my eyes to the V of muscle disappearing into his waistband, I know I’m weak. So fucking weak. I’m five feet away and practically drooling as I watch the sweat cool on his skin, making his nipples tighten. My own nipples stiffen, and I’m glad my hoodie is thick and I can’t poke through.

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it,” Aubrey replies, and the potential dirty twist on his words coupled with my own naughty thoughts makes me bark out a weird laughing sound. I slap my hand over my mouth, embarrassed at the noise.

He looks at me, a question in his eyes before pointedly letting his eyes slide down my body. I can read his look. He’s thinking of a few other things his big boy can take care of. Honestly, I am too as I feel the caress of his gaze almost as a physical touch. There’s a long moment of tension, the air thickening between us as I wonder what he thinks about what he sees. He’s not the boy he once was, but I’m not the girl I used to be either.

He licks his lips like I’m a snack he’d happily devour, and I blush, which finally pushes me out of my desire enough to put a little bit of steel in my voice. “Fine. Have it your way. Make it worse for all I care.”

I need to get away from him. My body’s need for Aubrey’s touch is driving me nuts, and I hate it. I hate that even as my mind says no, my body is definitely saying yes, please. And it pisses me off that he can get me hot and bothered with no more than a heated glance.

I turn on a boot heel and start to walk away. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you can’t walk at all and you’re in the hospital to get surgery. I’ll say I told you so.” I know it’s bratty and bitchy, but they’re the only defenses I can call up right now. And I need a defense, a big wall of space and time and distance between me and Aubrey before I do something epically stupid.

I stomp off, feeling like I’m about to catch fire in this hoodie, heat rising in my body from embarrassment, arousal, and anger. I pray he doesn’t tell me to stop because I might. I might stop, turn around, and run to him. Fuck the past and let him just fuck me now.