Thursday afternoon Emily looked out her office window onto the landscape below. It was gorgeous. The willow tree had been treated and trimmed back and the hardscape moved some distance away to prevent future damage. The new small stone retaining wall curved in a natural pattern around the freshly poured, amoeba-shaped concrete patio. Beyond the walls were flower beds full of daylilies and small blooming shrubs. The beds surrounding the base of the tree held the shade-loving plants, like green and striped hostas. The design was lovely, and although she’d yet to go down and see it at eye level, she could already tell it was a million times better than the previous area. It was pretty enough to be featured in a magazine.

Several employees had already commented to her how much they liked it and couldn’t wait to take their lunches outside when it was finished.

Now it was complete.

She’d just watched the last Big Blue Landscaping truck drive away from the building and get on the highway. Reeve had been driving it.

She sighed and sat down at her desk. All day Sunday she had gone over and over the text conversation she’d initiated with Reeve late Saturday night. Every time she read through their messages she was horrified anew at her ridiculous behavior. The entire thing had set her on edge for the week. First she’d been mad at herself, but at this point she was mad and irritated for a completely different reason.

Emily paged Daniel to her office, knowing she owed him an apology. When he peeked his head into the doorway, a look of apprehension on his face, she sighed. She was better than this.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t bite,” she said.

“A week ago I would have agreed with you,” he said with a hesitant smile. “But you’ve not quite been yourself lately.”

“I know, and I want to apologize for that. It’s just been . . . I don’t even know. You said it. I haven’t been myself. I’m not sure why.”

Not entirely true. Part of it was work stress—they were rolling out a new marketing campaign for their new line of independent film showings, and she’d just signed a deal to buy out a small chain in Oklahoma. But damn it, that wasn’t the biggest reason. That honor went to the man she’d been waiting on all week to text her back. Or call. He’d done neither.

“Don’t worry about it. We all go through rough patches,” Dan said.

“We do, but that does not give us permission to be assholes. And I’ve been one. So, I’m going to be better.”

“I appreciate that. Don’t forget, marketing meeting in ten.” With that he left her office and closed the door behind him.

Emily sighed, glad to have gotten that out of her system, because although Daniel was too good an assistant to say it, she been a total bitch the past two days.

All week she’d been waiting to hear from Reeve. Instead she’d come in Monday and had the pleasure of watching him work on her property. Surely he was just exhausted from a day of hauling dirt. Tuesday she checked her phone incessantly and forced herself to stay away from the window. Never heard from him. By Wednesday she was straight-up pissed. Even more so when he hadn’t shown up on-site at the office. Now, today, she was done being irritated with him, and she was furious with herself.

She’d had a one-night stand with a man. Twice. The rules had been very plainly spelled out. By her, no less. They were through and she’d made it very clear to him that’s how she’d wanted it. Emily had even reread her texts, the ones where she’d reminded him that they were not getting together again.

I don’t think so. But thank you.

When she’d reread that line Sunday morning she’d nearly died of embarrassment. Who said that? A snotty drunk woman strung out over a man and who had no idea what she wanted.

Yet despite her insistence—as weak as it was—that they weren’t going to hook up again, she couldn’t stop thinking about his texts. She’d reread them several times a day since she’d received them.

I just need you. Again.

I’ve been thinking about you.

And the foreboding, yet titillating, I have your number now.

The message had been so full of intention, she was still shocked he hadn’t reached out to her by this point. Was that her being stupid? Once again the only thing she failed at was social interaction. Completely typical of her.

A rapid knock sounded on her office door and was quickly followed by Natalie entering in a wave of frustration and expensive perfume.

“Dare I ask?” Emily raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a little moody today,” Natalie said, sitting down in the chair across the desk from Emily.

“What happened? The meeting’s still—”

“No, no. Everything’s fine work-wise. In fact, Roy just told me we’re up nineteen percent over this week last year.”

“Excellent,” Emily said. That news definitely helped her mood a little. “Then what’s wrong?”

She almost hesitated to ask. There had been an odd shift in her and Natalie’s working relationship ever since she’d met Reeve. However, not in the way Emily would have expected. Natalie had been talking to Emily the past couple of weeks about everyday normal stuff. Laughing about the show she’d watched the night before, discussing the great new yoga pants she’d purchased. Like they were friends.

“So, I told you Reeve the landscaper was coming by my house this week to take a look at my yard.”

Emily shifted in her seat, not liking where the conversation was heading. She’d been afraid of this from the moment she sniffed Natalie’s perfume. “You did, yes.”

“Well, he came by Monday afternoon and took a look. He made some great suggestions, and I’m going to be honest with you, Emily. You’re my boss and a friend, and while I know you have some sort of past with this guy, I’d really been hoping he was going to ask me out.”

Emily swallowed, forcing herself not to say something she’d regret. “I take it he didn’t?”

“No. He was a complete professional. In fact, he sent a separate crew to work on my yard the past two days.”

“He was busy finishing the project here,” Emily reminded her.

“I know. Trust me I know.” Natalie leaned forward in her seat. “The upside to that was I could watch him from my office window. Don’t judge.”

“Never.” Emily clasped her hands together and rested them in her lap.

“I kept hoping that maybe he’d come in and ask for me, you know? I mean, I’m in the building not even twenty feet away and he’s had a crew at my house. But nothing, all week. So finally this afternoon I decide to go out and just say hi. I mean, it’s Thursday, they should be wrapping my yard up.”

“Mm-hm.” Emily was getting antsy.

“So I go out and say hello, and I decide to just take matters into my own hands. I ask him out.”

Emily felt dizzy. This was it. She might well and truly pass out from jealousy.

“He tells me . . . no. Actually, his exact response was, ‘Normally I would jump at the chance to take you out, but there’s someone else I’m interested in and it wouldn’t be fair to you or her.’”

Emily’s heart skipped. Knowing she should reply, she quickly found appropriate words. “Wow. I guess . . . I mean, that’s nice of him.”

“It is, I suppose. But I’d had no intention in falling in love with the guy, I just wanted to get lucky. It’s been a while.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Nat.”

“Is it you?”

“Me?” Emily pointed to herself, playing dumb, but she was far from stupid.

“Are you the woman he’s interested in?” Natalie asked. There was no malice in her voice, or even her expression.

Tired of the charade, Emily dropped her shoulders. “Honestly, Natalie, my first guess would be no. But we did sort of talk this past weekend.”

“Sort of talk?”

“I might have . . . drunk texted him Saturday night.”

Emily was relieved when Natalie huffed out a small laugh. “Emily Phillips, drunk texting? That’s hard to imagine.”

“Well, it’s a true story. And I’m sorry. I know I pulled you into this drama by making you speak with him, and then saying I wanted nothing to do with him. It also did make me a little jealous when you started talking and getting to know him.”

“I suspected. You put on a good front, especially with your mother there, but I’m in finance. I read people, and your poker face was betraying you that day.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t heard from him all week since, so maybe there’s an entirely different woman in the picture.”

“Maybe. But you might consider that he really likes you. Maybe you should go out again.”

“We’ve never really even gone out.”

“Well then, what—” Natalie’s eyes widened and then she playfully scowled. “So you’ve gotten exactly what I want. Nice.” Natalie stood up with a loud sigh. “Well, please do me a favor and go out with him when he asks. You might be surprised by what happens.”

“It’s not looking like he’s going to. I still say it could be someone else.”

“I guess we’ll find out. If I’m going to get rejected, I guess I don’t mind getting thrown over for my own boss. Can you believe the two of us are both pining for the landscaper?”

Emily laughed. “See you in the meeting.”

Natalie headed out the door and down the hall. Emily sat back in her chair, trying to process what had just happened. It was hard to believe that Reeve would have turned down a date with a willing and beautiful woman. Maybe the mystery woman wasn’t her, but she still had his messages repeating over and over again in her mind.

I just need you. Again.

I keep thinking about you.

So if that was true, and he’d broken off his date with Natalie, then why the hell hadn’t she heard from him? Was this what karma felt like?

* * *

Emily hit SEND on an email and sighed. It was Friday evening and she was at her desk trying to finish up a few things that could have waited until Monday. Her two options had been to either feel somewhat productive at work, or feel sorry for herself at home. She’d chosen the one that didn’t also give her the option of going to the fridge every fifteen minutes. Too many snacks tended to just make a bad situation worse.

This restless, unsettled feeling was something she rarely dealt with. Not since she was a teenager waiting to move out of her mother and the general’s house. That day had felt like it would never come. But at least in that scenario she’d had a definitive and certain outcome. At that point she’d known college was in her future. Freedom. The beginning of her destiny. She’d had a good idea that at some point her grandfather planned to bequeath her the business that should have gone to her father. He’d mentioned it casually several times. Encouraged her to major in either business or finance. She’d assumed there was plenty of time to get a degree in what she wanted, try a few things on her own. Maybe come work and learn from him eventually.

It hadn’t worked out that way. She’d had one other serious job, but way before she’d planned to, she’d had to take over LAM and learn as she went. Ever since her first day, she’d hit the ground running and hadn’t slowed down or looked back. There’d been little time for personal fulfillment or relationships in her adult life. And she’d been okay with that.

Until now.

It was hard to know if she was just hankering for a change from the daily monotony of corporate life and duty, or if it was this man in particular that had her all twisted up inside. Maybe it was just the excitement of a handsome man’s interest. Or the fact that fate kept throwing them in each other’s paths, which was so odd. It was also possibly the fact that she’d now had really good sex and wasn’t sure how to give it up. But deep down she knew it was more than that.

As hard as it was for her to admit, there was no denying . . . It was him. Had to be.

The way his eyes crinkled around the edges just the slightest bit. How the rough pads of his fingers felt on her skin or the sound of his laughter in her ear when their bodies were pressed together. The way he managed to make her feel vulnerable and strong at the same time.

Emily’s eyes closed, trying to imagine their last night and morning together. Up until the moment when she’d caught sight of his tattoo and reacted like an idiot, it had been magical. Why in the world had she let the military thing cloud her judgment? The general was one man. She’d had other good men in her life. Her dad for one. While he’d been fairly serious and had a tendency toward gruffness when he was stressed about work, he could also be gentle and loving. He used to kiss her mother’s neck while she stood at the kitchen sink and hold her hand while he drove. Emily remembered that he often would whisper into her mother’s ear, and as a child she could never tell if it was the tickling of his lips that made her mother laugh or the words he’d said.

As an adult she now knew it was probably both, and it was those precious memories that made it so hard to accept her stepfather, who was cold and irritable. Her mother swore Emily didn’t know all of him, but the part that she did know didn’t encourage her to want to know any more.

She wanted the sweet kisses, whispers, and hand holding.

Emily gathered her things and stuffed them into her bag just as her cell rang. Her heart couldn’t help skipping as she shoved a file off it and read the name.

Reeve.

She fumbled to pick up the phone, and took a deep breath before she pushed the ACCEPT button.

“Hello,” she said, immediately hating the way it had come out. Too timid. But she hadn’t wanted to sound put out.

“Hey, Whip. How are you?”

She nearly melted there on the spot. How had she found the desire to walk out on this man? Fear. That’s what it had been. Fear of this feeling she felt right now, which was needing someone else. Fear that another person controlled her happiness or contentment.

“I’m good. Just leaving work. You?” Pulling her office door closed, she headed for the stairwell, not wanting to risk losing reception in the elevator.

“Little late for a Friday, isn’t it? No hot date tonight?”

“No. I’m not one for hot dates.”

“Ah. Just hot one-nighters, huh?”

“Well, if you want the truth, I’m not usually one for those, either.”

“No? Could have fooled me. But I can’t say I’m not glad to hear it. I’m happy to keep that part of you all to myself.”

She stopped at the bottom of the staircase and closed her eyes. She had never wanted anything more than to feel his hands on her right now. The calm way he teased made her entire body warm and languid.

“How about meeting me somewhere for dinner?”

Emily’s eyes sprang open. His tone had gotten a little serious, almost as if he wasn’t sure she would accept his invitation. She bit at her lip before finally answering.

“Maybe.”

He huffed out a laugh and she smiled in response. “Okay, what do I need to do, beg? Because if you recall, you’ve required a lot of coercion on my part, woman.”

She was still smiling, completely unoffended by the use of woman as a term of . . . endearment? It felt like one, although from anyone else’s lips she’d have hated it.

“I don’t know if I’d say a lot of coercion.”

“Okay, more than I’m used to.”

Emily left the stairwell and headed across the lobby. Ted, in charge of the night cleaning crew, waved at her and she waved back, knowing he’d lock up behind her and set the alarm. Focusing back on her conversation, she walked out into the warm night.

“So what you’re saying is that you’re used to women falling at your feet. Is that it?”

“Well, they don’t literally fall, but . . .”

Emily laughed and pushed the UNLOCK button on her car key fob. She was about to respond but he cleared his throat on the other end and got quiet for a moment. Doing the same, she stopped and waited to hear what he had to say.

“Look, I know you wanted to put us hooking up in a box and label it. But . . . I kind of can’t stop thinking about you. And to be honest, that’s another thing I’m not really used to.”

Emily licked her lips and breathed in deep. “Are you trying to make me feel special?”

“I am, yeah. Is it working well enough for you to say yes?”

“Maybe.” She placed her bag in the passenger seat.

“That’s better than no, I guess. So, how about I head over to Bourbon and Baker, sit at the bar, and maybe . . . I’ll see you there.”

“Maybe you will,” she said, going for flirty but knowing that wasn’t really one of her strengths.

“Bye, Whip.”

There was a smile in his voice, and then the line went dead. Emily glanced down at her work outfit. Not too bad. She’d worn one of her favorites today, a jersey wrap dress that was navy with cream-colored polka dots. If she removed her beige blazer it transformed into something a little more flirty and casual. Completely doable.

Tossing the blazer into the backseat, Emily got in and then pulled out of the parking lot onto the highway to the other side of town. Bourbon and Baker was a nice place. Not stuffy, a little hipster, but it had a great atmosphere. She’d treated the board to a meal there after meetings a couple of times.

Her grandfather and her father had been passionate about taking care of their employees, from the CFO all the way down to the teenage kid who popped popcorn on a Saturday night. She’d witnessed their compassion and generosity over and over, which she tried so hard to implement in their stead.

More than once she’d heard her father talk about how you had to take care of your employees if you expected them to take care of your company. That made sense to Emily, completely. Her grandfather arranged for discounts with at least one daycare center in every town where they had a theater. After meeting Cheyanne in Omaha, a young single mom working at the theater part-time while she went to school in the evenings, Emily had decided to go one better. She paid half of the childcare expense, and even turned two rooms on the lower level of the corporate office into an infant center so mothers could bring their babies to work with them for the first six months.

She’d continued the tradition of the LAM annual charity golf tournament, raising money for local children’s services and—one of her grandfather’s favorite causes—annual scholarships. For any office employee’s child graduating from high school with a GPA of 3.85 or above, LAM awarded them a ten-thousand-dollar scholarship. Last year she’d been happy to give three teenagers that honor at their summer picnic.

Up until the general, the men in Emily’s life had valued intelligence. Praised and celebrated it. Well, to be fair, the general expected all men to be intelligent; if they weren’t he considered them worthless, sort of how he felt about intelligent women. He’d never said a thing when Emily was inducted into the National Honor Society, although her mother had been proud. She was valedictorian of her high school, and he hadn’t even given her a simple “Congratulations.” She didn’t need his respect, but she hated so much that her mother was okay with such a cold man in her daughter’s life. That had always stung.

Pulling into the Bourbon and Baker, Emily parked in the crowded lot behind the building and then quickly touched up her lipstick and fluffed her hair a bit before getting out of her car. Her heels scuffed against the asphalt as she picked up her pace.

“You must really be excited to see someone.”

Knowing that sexy voice well, she stopped and slowly turned. Reeve walked toward her, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. God, he looked amazing. He wore a light-blue-and-white plaid button-up and a large metal watch on his wrist. She was pretty sure he’d also put a touch of product in his hair, although it still looked a bit mussed.

He stopped in front of her and she smiled. “I was just in a hurry to get inside because I’m hungry, and I love their strawberry bruschetta.”

Reeve laughed and shook his head before looking her up and down. “You look amazing.”

Emily knew she was blushing, and she was also aware this was one of the few times they’d looked at each other fully dressed in daylight, although even now it was fading as the sun slipped past the trees. That was enough, though, to highlight the fact that his eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue.

“Thank you, as do you. I like this shirt.” This close to him, she couldn’t help sliding her fingers under the placket of his shirt, her thumb rubbing on a button. She glanced up to find him watching her movements. “It matches your eyes.”

His faint, lazy smile nearly melted her on the spot. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the way of a vehicle that wanted to back out of its parking spot. The motion brought her against his body and crushed their chests together.

“Just for sweet-talking me, Whip, I’ll buy you as much strawberry toast as your sexy little heart desires.”

“Strawberry bruschetta.”

“Whatever you say.”

He didn’t let go of her hand as they headed around the buildings and made their way down the row of Poyntz Avenue shops until they reached the front door of the restaurant. Reeve opened it without letting go of her and Emily slipped in, immediately inhaling the scent of food and bourbon. They didn’t linger in the doorway like the rest of those waiting; instead Reeve led her through the narrow and crowded restaurant toward the back. A man behind the bar waved at them and nodded toward a cozy booth in the corner.

When they reached it Emily put her hand on her hip. “You said you’d be waiting at the bar in case I maybe showed up, but this has premeditated written all over it.”

Reeve laughed as he motioned for her to sit down, which she did. He sat down on the opposite seat and leaned onto the table. “What can I say, I had a good feeling about you. And I know the bartender—he works for me during the day.”

“Oh really? That’s nice.” She wondered if it was odd she didn’t come back with a question about his job, but she knew if she did he’d ask her questions in return. She was not ready to talk about the fact that she owned a big company. Especially when it was one he’d just done a twenty-thousand-dollar project for.

Once they were seated and comfortable, worry crept into her thoughts. What in the world would they talk about this evening? She was going to have to come clean. Reeve surprised her by speaking first, his voice low.

“Before we get too far, here . . . there’s something I want to tell you.” He glanced down at his hands and then fiddled with the watch on his wrist. When he looked back up at her she could see the hesitation in his expression.