“Not cowboys. Farmers,” Hannah said to Kade as she flipped the last page of his latest chapter.

“What?”

“You’re calling the guys cowboys. They’re not cowboys here. They’re farmers.”

“There’s a difference?”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. The cowboys are out in western Nebraska. Wyoming. Montana.”

“Texas.”

“Texas,” she agreed. “You seem intent on writing characters that should be Texans. Why don’t you just move your setting?”

“Because I like Aquamarine Ridge, Nebraska,” Kade said.

They were on the bed in Kade’s rooms at Ty’s place. Hannah was propped up on pillows against the wrought iron headboard, and Kade was facing her, leaning on pillows stacked against the footboard.

Hannah shivered. That name was more horrible every time she heard it. “Well, then you can’t call them cowboys.”

“You still haven’t explained the difference.”

“Cowboys are more like ranchers. They raise cattle and sheep. They have ranches. Farmers live on farms and raise crops…and some animals,” she said. “And they drive trucks. And tractors.”

She winced as she finished, knowing exactly what Kade was going to say next.

“So there are no horses around here?”

She sighed. “Yes, there are.”

“And cattle…those are cows. There are no cows here?”

“There are definitely cows here,” she admitted.

“And I didn’t realize that cowboys don’t drive trucks.”

“I’m sure that they do drive trucks sometimes,” Hannah said.

“So…”

“Just shut up.” Hannah rolled her eyes at his smirk. “In the middle of the country and this state, where the land is better for crops, they’re farmers. If you want cowboys, you need to move your stupid book.”

“I’m not moving my book.”

“Please,” she tried.

“No way. That gazebo is the perfect place for them to find the first body.”

Hannah shuddered. “I can’t believe you’re bringing a psychotic serial killer to town and offing beloved pillars of the community.”

“I haven’t decided if he’ll be a serial killer,” Kade told her.

“But you’re leaning that way.”

“We’ll see how the good citizens of Sapphire Falls treat their author-in-residence.”

“Author-in-residence,” Hannah repeated with a snort.

“That’s what Hailey Bennett called me in her email.”

Hannah looked up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Hailey was very excited about it. She wanted to put me up on the website.”

“You’re on the Sapphire Falls website?”

“No.” Kade frowned. “Mark didn’t want some big press release sending a bunch of people running to Sapphire Falls where there are only two cops and no one locks any doors or keeps any secrets. Like where their author-in-residence is working, having breakfast, and sleeping at night.”

Hannah laughed. “He was worried about a stalker showing up here?”

“Hey, I could be stalked,” Kade said. “I’ve gotten really nasty letters and emails. And two death threats. And the police force in Laramie thought they had a guy who was copycatting Blood Peril.” He said it with the pride of a new father who’d just witnessed his child’s first steps.

Hannah gave him her you’re-not-in-touch-with-reality look. “Yes. They thought they did. For about five minutes. Because the one deputy had just read the book, and the guy they found had a roll of mints in his pocket and died—sadly, by the way—from carbon monoxide poisoning. But there was no foul play. Or psychotic basketball coach. Or voodoo priestess. And that was Wyoming.” Sometimes Kade forgot that people dying in real life was sad and often tragic.

“You don’t think people kill each other in Wyoming?” Kade asked, whipping his phone out again.

He was going to Google it. Hannah’s hand shot out to grab his phone. “Please don’t remind me that I sometimes think you’re a bad bagel away from becoming one of your sociopathic characters,” she said.

“All I’m saying is that letting people know I’m staying here in Sapphire Falls could be dangerous.”

She nodded. “Okay. You might be right. You do have a rabid fan base.” Who had put him on all of the bestseller lists several times. Even if Hannah didn’t get it.

Kade often reminded her of how cool she should think it was to be the best friend of someone so famous. After which, she would remind him that she really knew far too much about him to be impressed anymore. And it had nothing to do with his addiction to narcotics and everything to do with the fact that he listened to Elvis when he wrote his creepy, gory novels and ate oranges like he was trying to ward off scurvy. Not that she had anything against Elvis or oranges. Actually, she thought it was kind of sacrilegious to kill people off while listening to the King. Kade said that all that optimism and cheese and happiness in the songs made him homicidal. And the oranges…well, oranges were fine. But he ate four of them a day. That was just weird.

“Hailey said they’d keep it on the down low,” Kade said with a grin.

“You saw Hailey?”

“She stopped over here yesterday. With Levi.”

Well, of course they’d stopped over. “And let me guess, you’re putting the guy in your book.” Levi and Hailey together? No one could resist that.

“I’m basing a minor secondary character on him,” Kade agreed. “But he wants a bigger part.”

Hannah grinned. “Well, watch yourself. Those two are downright scary in their ability to get people to do things.”

Kade seemed to consider that seriously. “I can see why. Hailey’s gorgeous. And so sweet.”

Hannah felt her eyes widen. Sweet? She wasn’t sure that was an adjective many people used for the ex-mayor and current Queen of Everything. Though Hailey did always have the best interests of Sapphire Falls in mind. And yeah, she was gorgeous. But Kade could be a challenge for her. He wasn’t from here and lacked a general give-a-shit that was, Hannah knew well, incredibly frustrating to go up against.

But there was no way Kade being here was on the down low. Nothing in Sapphire Falls was ever on the down low. Lucy, the owner of the little bookshop in town, had probably already placed an order for Kade’s newest release. There was a sort-of-but-not-really-secret book club in Sapphire Falls. They mostly read erotic romance, from what Hannah had gathered since she’d been back in town, but they might have thoughts of inviting Kade to a meeting.

Wait ’til the sweet—and even the not-so-sweet—ladies of Sapphire Falls got a glimpse inside the mind of the author who had been called “a more twisted Stephen King”. Yeah, that would be fun.

“I hate your book,” she told him, tossing the pages onto the bed beside her and flopping back against the pillows behind her.

“Well, what’s new?” Kade asked. “But I don’t think that’s why you’re being like this.”

“Like what?”

“Bitchy.”

She sat up. “Hey. I’m telling you that the guys here aren’t cowboys. That’s just a fact, Kade. That’s not about my mood.”

He continued to type on his laptop without looking at her. “It was more your tone of voice.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a baby.”

“Yep, definitely your tone.”

And suddenly Hannah wanted to cry. She couldn’t really say why. Things just felt…not right. Kade noticed when he glanced up a moment later.

“What’s going on?”

And with his question, she suddenly knew. “Kyle.”

Kade nodded. “Well, that was bound to happen.”

“I’m worried about him.”

That was clearly not what Kade had been expecting to hear. He stopped typing. “Worried? Why?”

“He hasn’t changed at all.”

“And?”

“Actually, that’s not totally true—he’s gotten even more uptight. He’s crazy busy, but he spends all his free time with our families. He doesn’t socialize much. He barely dates and none of that is serious. It’s like he’s taken his inner circle and pulled it in even tighter. So there are changes, but they’re not good.”

Well, except some of the changes she’d noticed when they were alone. She shivered a little, remembering the kitchen of the Come Again two nights ago. When it was just the two of them, he seemed to be…hotter. Naughtier. And it made her want to be alone with him a lot.

Which actually fed nicely into a plan that had been forming in her mind since Kyle had laid out his plan to convince Alice that Hannah wasn’t staying around. But Hannah kind of needed to hear her best friend tell her it wasn’t crazy. Or at least not totally crazy. She sat forward on the bed. “He has no life of his own—it’s all about other people. All the people. He’s on call 24/7, he’s helping our families in all his off time, everything is about this town. Everything is on a schedule and planned out.”

“How do you know all of this?”

She sighed. “Well, besides spending every day with my grandmother and seeing my parents three times already since I’ve been home, I’ve also been to the bakery, the gas station, the grocery store and the diner to pick up a carry-out order.”

“So?”

“So everyone is intent on telling me how great Kyle is.” It was absolutely a planned attack that Alice had put together. Hannah knew it. People were eager to find ways to work Kyle info into conversations. And when they couldn’t find a way, they just blurted it out. And clearly, they’d each been assigned a specific topic under the umbrella of Kyle-is-amazing. Some told her about his work—how he was always there for everyone, how hard he worked, the hours he put in, the dedication he showed. Some told her about his social life—that he rarely went out, that he hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Hannah, that it was too bad he hadn’t settled down yet, and how Hannah had always been perfect for him. “He’s so dedicated, so accessible, so generous, so kind, blah, blah, blah,” Hannah said.

“And?” Kade asked after a beat.

“I just…I’m not sure he really has any fun. He’s never spontaneous, never does anything just because.” The only people she’d encouraged the Kyle conversations with were her family members, but the more she heard about him, the more she wondered. It was quickly clear that Kyle was organized and scheduled and routine-oriented and…rigid. And that a lot of his social time was spent with people twenty to fifty years older than him, often involved manual labor, and seemed to be a perfect way for him to avoid socializing more. Her dad had commented that he seemed to sometimes make up reasons to be busy at their house.

“Why is this your problem?” Kade asked.

“Because it’s my fault.”

Kade lifted a brow. “How?”

“He was always a very routine-oriented, predictable guy,” she said. “But he’d relax with me. At least as much as he ever did. But what little bit of go-with-the-flow he did have…broke…or something…when I didn’t come home and changed the plan.” She sighed, feeling a definite sense of sadness. “I proved to him that always knowing what’s coming and what to expect is the safe way to go.”

Kade seemed to be thinking that over.

“And everything that he thinks will remind me of life here—the Come Again, the town square, hanging out at Grandma’s house—is way more than a memory for him. It’s his life. Every day.”

“Okay,” Kade finally said. “Is that bad?”

“If it’s keeping him from trying new things and taking chances, yes.”

“And you feel the need to fix that?”

“Of course,” she said with a frown. “Just like he wants to be sure that Grandma goes on with her life without me here,” and there was the pang near her heart again, “I want him to go on.”

“And you have to be the one to show him this.”

She took a deep breath. And nodded. “Yeah. I think I do. I think I might be the only one who can.”

If anyone could coax Kyle into doing something off-plan and out of character, she thought maybe it could be her. She didn’t know if that was something to be proud of or worried about though. Just like she didn’t want Alice to be putting so much stake in Hannah and her thoughts and feelings and actions, she didn’t want that for Kyle either. It was…sweet…or something…that he still cared about her to that extent, but she wasn’t sure he was aware of it. Or if he was, if he was glad about it. Surely he didn’t want to be stuck thinking about her and what could have been after she left again.

“And I think I have a plan.”

“Oh boy.”

She frowned at Kade’s clear lack of enthusiasm. “Seriously.”

He shut the laptop and folded his arms over his chest. “Okay.”

Wow, a shut computer. He was taking this seriously now. “I want to remind him about having fun. Give him some positive spontaneity.”

“Positive spontaneity,” Kade repeated. “Okay.”

“And I also think I could maybe introduce him to some of my practices with massage and maybe even acupuncture.”

“I thought he was skeptical about all of that.”

She nodded. “But he cares about my pain. It bothered him to know I was hurting.” She felt a warmth in her chest, remembering how concerned he’d been. “I think I could at least teach him more about it.”

Kade sighed. “You want to sleep with him.”

She scowled. “How did you get from acupuncture to sleeping with him?”

“Positive spontaneity. Massage. Seemed like a natural path.”

Yeah, well, maybe that had occurred to her too. Kyle’s hot kisses and sudden willingness to say all kinds of not-so-gentlemanly things had her thinking about a lot of things she hadn’t expected when she’d planned this trip home. “There’s definitely still chemistry between us,” she admitted. “Maybe even more in some ways.” She frowned. “Which is strange.”

“Why?”

“I’m a very different person than I was before.”

“First, you’re not very different,” Kade said. “You’ve had some experiences, but you’re still basically you.”

She wasn’t so sure about that. But she could admit that over the past few days in Sapphire Falls, she’d felt more like her than she had in three years. In her heart of hearts, love and home and history were important to her.

“And secondly,” Kade went on, “it’s very possible for chemistry to increase over time. Experience and hurt and challenges change us into better, deeper people. Those wounds can make us even more attractive to the right person. And they make it possible to appreciate real chemistry and love over the superficial stuff that we all have when we’re younger.”

Hannah knew she was staring at him. But, as far as she knew, Kade had never had a deep, serious relationship that involved chemistry. He had physical relationships and he had meaningful relationships, but they were never the same relationships.

He noticed her look of incredulity. “I write a lot of psychologically complex and disturbed characters, so I read a lot of psychology books and I pick up positive things too sometimes. Accidentally, of course.”

“Of course,” she murmured. But it all made some sense. The changes—the wounds—she sensed in Kyle definitely made her feel more protective of him. Like she wanted to make it all better. Like she wanted to fix him. They certainly had that in common—wanting to fix things for the people they cared about.

“It really is more about fixing the things I broke,” she said.

“That you broke?”

She nodded. “This trip is about Grandma getting her hip fixed, but there’s more. Now my parents know I’m fine. And the town’s seen me and knows I’m okay, but not coming home to stay, so they can move on with a new PT. Just like Grandma will realize I’m really in Seattle for good and she’ll give the town the PT clinic. So the last thing is Kyle. I need him to remember how to have fun. To not be scared of letting go and having a new relationship.”

Her heart ached with that idea, but she knew that she had to help him get over this idea that everything had to be predictable to be good.

“That’s going to be really hard after he falls back in love with you,” Kade said.

Her heart tripped. “He’s not going to fall back in love with me.”

“You’re right. I think he’s already there. But now you’re going to remind him of it and reinforce it.”

Yeah, well, she was right there too. But she shook her head. That could not happen. Because leaving Sapphire Falls was going to be hard enough. If she thought Kyle had those feelings for her, she might have to admit that she had those feelings for him too, and it would be all the harder.

“Well, then this is good,” she said, meaning it about eighty percent. Or maybe fifty percent. “He’ll definitely be over me after this.”

“This?”

“If I can be here, involved with my family, and reminded of all the things I love about this town, and I also have a fling with him and still leave, then he’ll really hate me and will get over me. He knows I’m leaving. I promised.”

“And you have to keep a promise to him this time,” Kade said.

He knew her well. She nodded. “Absolutely.”

“So you are planning on sleeping with him.”

She sighed. Okay, fine. “Kind of.” And yeah, she felt a little pulse of pleasure between her legs at even the thought.

But mostly she had to help Kyle break free of the idea that everything had to be planned and forecast. He needed some spontaneity in his life. He needed to go with the flow and see that it could turn out. Or maybe even more; if things veered off course, he was perfectly capable of adapting.

“So what are you going to do exactly? I guess just taking your clothes off would be spontaneous and fun and would result in sex.”

“Sex isn’t the goal,” she insisted. But Kade wasn’t wrong about the fun part. “I need to show him that having fun is important and that being spontaneous can be fun. That not always having a plan can still be a good thing.” She’d been thinking about this since Kyle had told her his plan to publicly seduce her. She had some ideas for what was going to happen in private.

And ironically, reminding Kyle how to be spontaneous was going to require a solid plan.

* * *

Holy shit.

Kyle drew up short in the doorway of Alice’s kitchen. Alice was sitting out on the porch and had asked him to get her a glass of lemonade. She hadn’t mentioned that Hannah was in the kitchen. He’d hoped to run into her, of course, but she’d been so good at avoiding him that he wasn’t sure he’d see her. Of course, she hadn’t known he was coming over here today. Exactly why he’d stopped by without warning.

But even if he managed to catch her by surprise, he really wasn’t sure how she was going to react after their little kitchen tryst three nights ago. He knew how he was reacting to it. A mix of smugness, burning desire that had kept him up a lot of the night, and confusion. She’d been so hot. There had been some tentativeness there too, like she wasn’t sure what she was doing—or couldn’t believe she was doing it. But she’d kissed him back, she’d pressed close, she’d unbuttoned when he told her to. And damn, that had been the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Until, of course, she’d slipped her hand into her panties.

He’d been with other women in the past three years. Admittedly, for the first few months after his breakup had actually sunk in, he’d fucked his way around the county in a quest to banish Hannah from his thoughts. Then after that first year, he’d actually given some effort to finding someone he could be serious about. He wanted to move on. He wanted the whole marriage-and-family thing. But he hadn’t found anyone who made him think that forever was possible. Then sex had turned into nothing more than a fun, sometimes necessary way to blow off steam. But those hook-ups had been a lot less frequent. Still, he’d seen plenty of women wearing denim shorts and unbuttoning blouses for him and touching themselves.

It had never made him as hot and hard as watching Hannah. Hell, she’d barely been undressed. And he’d only seen her hand in her panties. He hadn’t seen the really good stuff. And he’d never felt the wave of got-to-have-her that he’d felt with her.

Because he’d pushed her. He’d gotten her hot enough that she was doing things she never would have done before. Other women wanting him had always felt good, of course. But pushing Hannah to that point had been the next level.

She was now up on the counter in Alice’s kitchen, scrubbing the high shelves in Alice’s cabinets. She was wearing another pair of short-shorts and a pink spaghetti-strap tank top that reminded him of the color of her bra she’d had on at the Come Again. These shorts weren’t denim, though. They were a soft gray color and looked like sweatpants that had been cut off. But they rode high on her legs, gaped around her thighs, giving peeks at tantalizing shadows, and hugged her ass. And she was cleaning cupboards. Which shouldn’t have been erotic at all, but it shot him back to the past when they’d worked together to take care of their parents and grandparents, their school, and their town.

His body tightened at the entire picture, and he stopped to take a deep breath so he didn’t stalk right over there, yank her down into his arms, and repeat that kitchen scene on her grandmother’s white Formica countertop. Without any panties in the way.

As he watched, Hannah lowered her arms, rolling her shoulders and neck as if they were stiff. She reached up and kneaded her right shoulder, then ran her hand up to the side of her neck, squeezing the muscles.

His gut tightened, and it wasn’t about how delicious her ass looked in the shorts now.

She’d told him that she still had neck issues from the car accident she’d been in at the end of her last internship in Seattle. He remembered the phone call. She’d been hit by a car in a crosswalk and had been taken to the hospital. She’d had all the tests done and she was starting physical therapy the next day. That had been the report. He’d been worried, of course, but she’d assured him she was fine. She’d sounded normal. And her parents and grandmother knew nothing about it. And she’d begged him not to tell them. She’d told him there was nothing to worry about.

So he hadn’t. He’d been buried in his residency and was relieved, honestly, not to have one more thing demanding attention and energy. But if she was still having issues three years later, it hadn’t been quite a no-big-deal event.

And suddenly he felt a surge of concern and protectiveness that made him nervous. She wasn’t his problem. She’d taken herself away from being his problem.

He still didn’t like knowing that she was in pain of any kind.

But this was physical pain. That he could help her with. He was a freaking doctor. All she had to do was say the word and he’d do whatever he could to make her better.

Hell, maybe she didn’t need to say a word. Maybe he needed to insist. Like telling her to unbutton the other night. Maybe she just needed to know what he wanted from her—for her to let him take care of her.

Yeah, that was definitely concerning.

As was the surge of irritation he felt toward Alice. Why did those cupboards need to be cleaned? That was ridiculous. Alice didn’t need to be making Hannah get up there like that.

And that was crazy—he was as protective of Alice as anyone.

Or so he’d thought.

He frowned, moving forward. “She has you scrubbing her cabinets?”

Startled, Hannah gave a little yelp and swung to face him.

Kyle moved quickly so that when her foot slipped off the edge of the counter and into the sink, he was there to steady her. Of course, that required a hand on her leg. Her smooth, warm leg. His senses instantly registered everything about touching her, and he had to fight the urge to stroke his palm up and down.

“You got this?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Yeah.”

Her voice wasn’t normal either. But it could have been because he’d scared the shit out of her. He took a moment before looking up at her. And even with that moment of preparation, he was slammed by memories from the night before. The way her hair had curled wildly over her shoulder, the silky heat of her mouth, the sight, feel, and taste of her breasts, her dipping her hand into her panties, the heat in her eyes, the sound of her voice and the little gasps and moans.

He swallowed hard. And backed away from the thigh he desperately wanted to lick. He looked up and their gazes collided. “Sorry I scared you. I should have thought of that before I said anything.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.”

He felt his brows slam together. “It’s not. Why do people say things are fine when they’re not?” Like when she’d said she was fine after the car accident that now, three years later, still bothered her?

She frowned, clearly confused by his sudden irritation. “I didn’t fall on my ass and you didn’t mean to scare me, so it is fine. What’s with you?”

He shoved a hand through his hair. Nothing was with him. Except that he was worried about a neck problem he knew almost next to nothing about in a woman who had quite clearly wanted him out of her life.

“Nothing. I’m fine too.” See? People lied about that all the time. “Does your grandma know that your neck’s been bothering you? She shouldn’t have you cleaning her cupboards out.”

Hannah’s surprised expression matched the surprise he felt shoot through him. He was dissuading Hannah from helping Alice? When had that ever happened?

“I mean, she should have asked me to do it,” he said. It wasn’t like he thought Alice should be climbing up there.

“She didn’t ask. I was looking for her ice cream maker and realized that it’s been…a while since these cupboards were cleaned and organized.”

Those high ones? Yeah, probably three or four years. Kyle hadn’t ever given them any thought. If Alice had tried getting up there or had asked him to, he would have realized they needed attention and would have taken care of it, but he spent his time putting out the little fires—catching her doing things she shouldn’t or anticipating the day-to-day things that would be tough for her. That ice cream maker? He hadn’t seen it in years, and he knew that if Alice wanted ice cream, she headed to The Stop.

But watching Hannah now, the smell of soap in the air brought back a wave of memories. They’d done these kinds of chores together all the time. To spend time with her, he helped her clean the house or do dishes or make meals. It fit them—they were together, but they were active and productive. Neither of them were really the sit-on-the-couch-for-a-two-hour-movie type. If they weren’t at Hannah’s house, they were at Alice’s or Ruby’s, or doing something at school—bake sales, fundraisers, club meetings.

Hannah hopped off the counter.

“The ice cream maker?” he asked.

She blushed slightly but nodded. “It just seemed…like something fun. We used to make homemade ice cream all the time.”

Ah, being home was stirring up memories for her and making her nostalgic. That was excellent. Right on plan. “I remember,” he said, wishing that the nostalgia wasn’t as contagious as it seemed to be. He really wanted to make homemade ice cream with her. Fuck.

“I don’t suppose you could help me for a minute?” she asked.

Kyle felt his eyes widen.

“What?” she asked.

“You just…never ask for help.”

She started to reply, but pressed her lips together and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I didn’t used to be very good at that.”

“And now?” Kyle knew it was ridiculous to hate that there were changes in Hannah’s personality. Of course there were changes. It had been three years. She’d been living a totally different life in a big city far from home. And hell, learning to ask for help wasn’t some terrible thing. He hadn’t learned how to do it, but in general, he understood it was a good thing.

“I’ve gotten a lot better at it,” she said. “It was hard. I was used to being the one that helped everyone else, did everything.” She was watching him closely. “It always felt good to be the one that everyone could depend on.”

He gave a short laugh. “If you’re asking if I’m still that guy, the answer is absolutely yes.”

“I figured. Even before my dad told me that you take care of their lawn and snow removal. And before I found out you repainted my grandma’s house. And my bedroom.” For a second her voice got a little husky.

Did knowing he’d been in that bedroom, fixing it up for her, make her feel the weird sense of connection and strangeness that he’d felt doing it?

“And even before I found out you did all of the landscaping at the park—after paying for all of the new equipment. Not to mention everything you do for your parents and grandmothers.”

So she’d been talking about him with…people. Presumably her parents. It wasn’t like the things he did for all of those people were a secret. But he didn’t expect them to sing his praises.

“To be fair,” Kyle said, feeling like maybe she wasn’t entirely impressed by all of that, “my dad doesn’t let anyone touch his lawn. And Derek helped me with the landscaping at the park.”

“You’re the only doctor in town,” she said. “How do you have time for all of that extra stuff? You’re at my mom and dad’s once a week and here with my grandma more often than that.”

“Careful planning,” he said with a shrug. “Not much sleep.”

“And not spending any time dating.”

He didn’t think that was a question. But had she been asking about his dating habits? But no, with her grandmother, his grandmother, and her parents around, she wouldn’t have had to ask. He was sure they were all very happy to share his status with her. His single-and-hasn’t-seriously-dated-anyone-in-months status. Or, as her grandmother would have put it, his single-and-has-never-dated-anyone-worthy status.

“I don’t date much,” he acknowledged. He climbed up on the counter, needing to be busy. And not look at Hannah. And she had asked for his help, after all.

“Why not?” she asked, right on cue.

He bent to retrieve the rag she’d been using to wipe down the shelves. Reaching to the back of the highest one was no problem for him.

He debated how honest to be with her. Finally, he realized he had nothing to lose. “Because I haven’t figured out what I did wrong with you, yet.”

There was dead silence behind him. As expected. He wiped the next shelf down and then bent to put the serving bowls and platters back in their places.

It was nearly two minutes before Hannah spoke. “You had a plan. And I messed it up.”

Kyle’s spine stiffened, and he stopped with the Thanksgiving mashed potato bowl in hand. And yes, he knew Alice used that bowl for mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving. He’d been to several Thanksgiving dinners at her house over the years. Even when Hannah hadn’t been there.

“You had these…expectations for how things should go,” she went on. He set the bowl on the shelf carefully. “And I couldn’t meet them anymore.”

“So there was something I did wrong.” He didn’t turn around. “People in Seattle don’t have expectations?”

“They don’t have expectations of me,” she said softly.

Kyle blew out a breath. Then he swung around and jumped to the floor. “So no one expects anything of you? And that makes it better there? You couldn’t take the pressure?”

She shrugged. “Right.”

Her agreement with what he’d essentially meant as an insult made him pause. “What pressure?” he asked. “No one could know you or love you as much as we—the people here do.”

She nodded. “A lot of it was self-inflicted pressure. I know that now,” she said. “But yeah…doing the right thing all the time, not just for me but for my mom and dad, for Grandma, for you…it was a lot to feel bad about when I didn’t get it right.”

“You didn’t have to do everything right for us,” he said. But he heard the lack of conviction in his voice. And knew she did too. It wasn’t that she had to do everything or be perfect, but yeah, they’d all depended on her. He’d depended on her. Not to be perfect, but to be…steady. Predictable.

She gave him a small smile. “But I always did,” she said. “That’s not ego. That’s just fact. I did everything right. I made plans and carried them out. I set goals and I met them. I made good choices. I mean, even when we started having sex, we used the pill and condoms. And we were…”

He shifted his weight at the subject of sex between them. She was just stating a fact, but it was extremely difficult to take the emotions out of that topic. “We were what?” he managed.

“We took a long time to get to that point. And we were so sure by then that we were going to get married. It never felt like we were just horny teenagers or doing something wrong.” She sighed. “It felt like sex inside a marriage, I swear.”

He knew that should sound strange, but he knew what she meant. The first time he’d slept with another woman after Hannah, it had felt like he was cheating. Okay, the first few times. He’d kept going, thinking it would get better. It took a long damned time to not feel, if not wrong, then just not normal to be with someone else.

“Yeah,” he agreed. And the only fucking reason that any of that had been an issue was because she hadn’t come home. He worked to rein in his emotions. “I don’t expect perfection,” he told her. At least, he didn’t from other people. From himself, maybe. And yeah, okay, maybe at one time he’d come to expect it from her. Because she delivered. “But you never gave me a reason to doubt that you weren’t…perfect.”

She gave him a smile that almost seemed sad. “I know.”

He didn’t know what to say. He really didn’t. He hadn’t expected to get into all of this today when he’d stopped over. “And we were kids, basically. I’ve grown up,” he said. “I deal with illness and injury every day. I know perfection is unattainable.”

“And because of that, you try to make everything you can control as close to perfection as possible,” she said. She was rubbing her shoulder again, though it seemed subconscious.

“And you think relationships are one of those things I try to control?” he asked.

“I know about the landscaping at the park,” she said. “Do you really think I didn’t find out that the longest relationship you’ve had in three years was seven dates? And that there are long stretches between women.”

He sighed. “Six dates.”

“Ellen said seven.”

And he understood why Hannah believed her. Ellen, the owner of the Bang and Blow salon, was one of their lead gossips.

“Well, it was six. I don’t count the first meeting at the bakery that was completely set up…by Ellen, by the way.”

“And you started comparing them all to your checklist on date one, right?” she asked.

“I don’t have a checklist.” He totally did. Derek had said the same thing. And they were both right. It wasn’t actually written down or anything like that, but he knew what he was looking for. Was that so bad?

“You do too,” she said with a little laugh. “Don’t you remember giving me the list of reasons you loved me on Valentine’s Day?”

He huffed out a breath. “That’s not a checklist.”

“More or less. It’s what you want. And it’s what you measure all these women against, right?”

“I measure all these women against you, Hannah,” he finally snapped. “You should be flattered by that.” Though his tone was hardly complimentary.

She nodded, not looking happy. “You compare them to the old me. To the me who was young, and loved taking care of everyone else, and who could get by on five hours of sleep, and whose biggest problem was studying for a chemistry exam on the same night that I had to paint the Homecoming float and do all the family’s laundry.”

“You don’t love taking care of people anymore?” he asked, irritated and not even fully sure why.

“It’s easier not to,” she said. “Then you can’t let anyone down.”

“Clearly I don’t feel the same way.”

“Clearly.”

They just stood looking at each other, memories, hurt, regret filling the air between them. Finally, she said, “Other people are the hardest things to predict. I think that’s why you’ve been avoiding relationships.”

“Well, considering my last serious relationship with a woman took the most unexpected turn of my life, yeah, probably.” What the hell was the point of arguing that?

She didn’t flinch or grimace. Instead she frowned. “And that’s made you avoid all new relationships?”

“No, I—”

“You treat a town full of people you’ve known your whole life. You hang out with the same friends from high school. You eat the same favorite dinners—at that same table,” she said, pointing to the kitchen table behind him. “You do the same odd jobs, drive the same roads, you have the same phone number you’ve had for ten years, Kyle.”

She was now digging her fingers into her shoulder, and wincing as she did it.

He sighed and moved closer. He knocked her hand out of the way and turned her with his hands on her upper arms. Then he began kneading the muscles. Her skin was soft and warm, but it was the little groan she let out as his thumb rubbed circles over a spot just above her shoulder blade that got to him.

He swallowed and concentrated on massaging her muscles. “I don’t need a new phone number,” he said softly. “I don’t need a different job and I have the best friends I could ever hope for. I take comfort in knowing the full history of everyone who comes through my clinic door, and in eating my grandmother’s chicken and cheese bake once a month. I love that when I go to a birthday party, it’s almost always one of several I’ve attended for that person. I love that I know if I go to the post office at one p.m., Helen will have her after lunch Oreos out of the cupboard.”

“You have a lot of food options around this town,” she said, her head dropping forward.

She reached up and moved his hand an inch to the left then pressed down on top of it. He increased his pressure on the spot and she groaned again.

“I found the life I love early,” he said, after taking a big breath of her scent. His rubbing seemed to release it from her skin. “I think I’d be foolish to not hang on to it.”

He opened his mouth to continue, but she reached up again and grasped his thumb, moving it down slightly and pressing again. “Feel that?” she asked.

There was definitely a hard ball under his thumb. “The knot?”

“Yes. That’s a trigger point. That one flares up a lot. Can you press right into it? You have to hold for about ninety seconds to release a trigger point.”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

She kept her hand on top of his as he pressed. He didn’t count, far too distracted by just the simple act of touching her. But after about a minute, the knot of tissues softened. He was surprised to actually feel that.

“Ah,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

Something in her voice, or maybe just the realization that he’d done something for her that had helped, made him lean forward and press his lips to the spot. It was slightly reddened and a little warmer than the rest of her skin. He felt her sigh and lean back slightly.

“So much better,” she said softly.

He lifted his head and she turned. He’d given this woman a lot of touches of all kinds over the years, in a lot of places, but he didn’t know if he’d really ever taken pain away. And doing it with his own two hands was a very intimate thing, as he thought about it.

And as much as he wanted her, he had the urge to do something else. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a hug.

“I’m sorry your neck hurts,” he said against the top of her head. “I want to help.”

She seemed surprised for only about a second. She wrapped her arms around him and her body softened against him. “I know,” she said. “I really do know that.”

“Just tell me what you need.”

She hesitated. “This actually feels really good.”

He squeezed her a little tighter. It didn’t feel like enough, but he could definitely be happy holding her for as long as he could. His time was limited. He knew that. And he knew that even being prepared for her to leave again wasn’t going to help a bit.

“Are you growing the lemons for the lemonade?” Alice asked as she came into the kitchen.

Hannah didn’t pull back immediately. But she did take a deep breath, and then slid her hands up between them and pushed.

Just like she was supposed to.

Of course, Alice missed it completely. She’d crossed to the fridge and had her head ducked behind the door, looking for the pitcher of lemonade.

Kyle let Hannah go anyway. They stood staring at each other for a long moment. And in that moment, it became clear that this plan where he pretended to want her and she pretended not to want him wasn’t working. Because he wasn’t pretending.

“Sorry, Alice,” Kyle finally said.

“Oh, was he on an errand for you?” Hannah asked. “I got him roped into helping me with the cupboards.”

He’d actually forgotten about the lemonade completely.

“Of course he helped you,” Alice said, turning from the fridge with the lemonade.

Hannah and Kyle both started for her. Carrying a pitcher and using her cane wasn’t easy. Hannah took the pitcher and Kyle steered Alice to a chair at the table.

“Did I give you a chance to steal a kiss?” Alice asked Kyle, not at normal volume but hardly in a whisper.

Kyle gave her an eye roll.

She elbowed him, though from her seated position, her elbow connected with his thigh. “I stalled outside as long as I could.”

“I was thinking about lemonade,” he said. “Not kissing,” he added in an actual whisper, to make a point.

“Well, that explains a lot,” Alice told him. “Kissing should always be the first thing on your mind.”

Yeah well, she had a point.

“Hello!”

Everyone turned to see Hannah’s dad coming in through the back kitchen door.

“Hi, Dad.”

Kyle felt a catch in his chest at the look of sincere happiness on Hannah’s face as she greeted her father. Crap, he wasn’t supposed to care this much about her pain and her being happy and all of that. She had left him.

“You’re just in time,” Alice informed her son.

“Does that mean there are cookies?” Ben asked. He crossed to Hannah and kissed her cheek.

She pointed at the cookie jar. “What a silly question.” He headed straight to the jar. “What are you just in time for?” she asked.

“I’m going to take Mom to York,” Ben said, biting into what looked like oatmeal raisin.

Hannah was really good at oatmeal raisin. Then again, Hannah had always been really good at just about everything.

“You didn’t say you needed to go to York,” Hannah said to Alice.

“I don’t need to go, but I want to. We’re going to shop a little and have dinner.”

“You’re going shopping and to dinner,” Hannah repeated. “You’re feeling up to that?”

“To having my son help me pick out a new TV and buy me dinner?” Alice asked with a laugh. “Of course.”

“I could take you,” Hannah offered. “That’s why I’m here, right? To help with things.”

“Oh, yes, absolutely,” Alice said. “I was hoping you could do some of the work over at your dad’s that needs done.”

“What do you need help with?” Kyle asked.

Ben glanced at Alice, and Alice gave him a little nod. Kyle sighed. That wasn’t obvious at all.

“I needed to get the windows washed,” Ben told them. “The outside. I got one of those spray things that go on the hose and my shoulder has been feeling really good, so thought I could get them done.” He glanced at Hannah with a smile. “That treatment you did on me really helped.”

Hannah looked pleased. “I’m so glad.”

So, she’d worked on her dad. That was great.

“I can definitely do the windows,” Kyle said. “No sense in testing your shoulder just yet. Let Hannah work on it a little more before you get too gung ho.”

Ben nodded. “Whatever you say, Doc. But the bottom ones will need to be dried. They say that stuff doesn’t leave streaks, but it does.”

“Got it. I’ll take care of it,” Kyle said.

“And I can help.”

Kyle glanced at Hannah. Scrubbing cupboards was bothering her neck. He could only imagine what washing windows would do to it. And she’d told him at the Come Again that one of her coping mechanisms was just letting things go and relaxing. She should take advantage of the time to sit back and put her feet up. Or something.

But he was a selfish bastard and he wanted some one-on-one time with her. He’d just make sure that he did most—or all—of the work. She could sit back and put her feet up outside in her dad’s yard. Maybe in a lawn chair. With a bikini on.

“We can do it together,” he said. “Of course. We’re a great team.” Not only would that make Alice happy—which was confirmed by a quick glance in the older woman’s direction—but if Hannah needed any more massages, he would be right there. Willing and able.

Hannah looked from him to her grandmother and must have read the same pleasure in Alice’s face that he saw. Hannah nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. We work really well together.”

“Everything is out in the garage,” Ben said happily. “We’ll be gone for…a while.”

Kyle caught Hannah’s eye roll that time and couldn’t help but grin. Yeah, Ben and Alice were really subtle. They were clearly trying to get him and Hannah stuck together for a period of time, just the two of them. He could hardly complain about that.

“You ready to head over there?” he asked her.

“You sure you don’t have any other plans?”

“I took the afternoon off because Alice said she needed some help,” he said, shooting the older woman a look as he outed her lie. “She’s clearly in good hands, so now, I’m all yours.”

Yeah, he’d used those words on purpose. For Alice. And for Hannah.

Hannah’s cheeks were a little flushed as she pulled her gaze from his. She looked down at what she was wearing. “I guess I’m dressed for window washing. Might as well.”

“Or you could put on a swimming suit,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He caught Alice’s little grin and knew he was playing right into her plan. But his comment was less to please Alice and more to make Hannah aware that he was aware of her body. And wanted to see more of it.

The pink in her cheeks got a little deeper, but she gave him a look. “That’s a great idea, but I didn’t bring a swimming suit. Guess I’m stuck in this.”

“There’s probably an old suit in the dresser upstairs,” Alice suggested helpfully.

Hannah shook her head quickly. “They’d only be bikinis.”

“That’s fine,” Kyle said. “Less to get wet.” Except for all of that beautiful skin.

He knew that she was thinking of their conversation the other night at the Come Again, about her being wet for him. And he’d bet that right now she was a little bit too.

And he hoped that he could make that little bit into a lot more. Later. When they were alone.

He knew this was all dangerous, but he was beyond caring. Knowing she had pain from that fucking car accident had brought a huge surge of protectiveness out in him and a need to do something, to somehow heal her, or at least make her feel better. Somehow. And the fact that she was still willing to get up on Alice’s countertop to clean was making him feel a little… He wasn’t sure. Restless. Irritable. Frustrated.

“Doing work in a bikini can be risky,” Hannah said. “Things shift and slip when you’re reaching and bending.”

Kyle almost groaned. Especially when her cheeks got pink again. She hadn’t meant for it to sound dirty. But it totally had. And now he couldn’t wait to get started.

“So I think I’ll stick with this,” she added on hastily, indicating what she wore.

They’d washed windows together before, and she’d never dressed quite like this. She would have worn a tank top, maybe, but it would have been paired with regular shorts, not cut-off sweatpants. And she would have still had her hair done and makeup on. Now her hair was in a messy bun, and she had no makeup on that he could see.

And she looked gorgeous.

She’d never been afraid of hard work or getting dirty or breaking a nail. But she would have redone her manicure right after the job.

They helped Alice get settled in Ben’s car and watched them disappear at the end of the block.

“I feel like walking, how about you?” Hannah asked.

It was only about four blocks. But more, there was something in her eyes that had him nodding. “Sure.”