“Don't you think for one minute that just because Jace is back with a little money in his pocket and a rodeo title, that it changes a damn thing.”

I stare at Emily with sharp, darkened eyes, the usually oceanic blue of them now tainted a cloudy shadowed color due to my obvious frustration at the mere mention of Jace Andrews.

“Call me crazy,” Emily says with an amused grin. “But I'd say by your immediate defensive stance that Jace Andrews has you exactly where he's always wanted you...flustered and wrapped around his little finger.”

The coffee pot I'm holding begins to shake slightly, betraying the trembling of my fingers. “You take that back right now,” I snap at my best friend of over twenty years. “I'm not flustered. I'm just ticked off that everyone I see seems to have only one thing on their minds; Jace and his goddamn PBR win.” I set the coffee pot down, which is obviously easier to do than getting my hands to stop shaking. “I'm not saying I don't wish him the best of luck, or that I wouldn't congratulate him on his win if he walked through that door, but I think people around here need to realize that there ain't nothing between Jace and I anymore, so the last thing I need to hear about is him.”

“Yeah,” Emily says with a roll of her eyes. “You're not flustered at all.” She shuffles her way out of the booth she's sitting in—the booth we always sit in when we come to Edna's Diner.

The only difference between our usual evenings spent drinking copious amounts of coffee at Edna's and today is that I'm working, and my shift is due to end in a half hour. “Where are you going?” I ask, unable to see her face now that her hair has fallen like a veil, masking her expression from my view. “I'll be out of here in less than half an hour, if you want to wait.”

I take a quick glance around the diner, but it's almost two o’clock, and the lunch rush has subsided, leaving only the regulars and a few latecomers scattered around the room. Nobody seems to be trying to flag me down for a coffee top-up or to complain about god-knows-what, so I turn my attention back to Emily, which is more important seeing as I can't decide whether she's internally laughing at me or starting to get pissed off because I'm snapping at her.

She lifts her head up and rises to her feet, and immediately I know it's the former. “I'm just going to run over to Dan's Auto down the street. I want to see how they're making out with changing that wheel bearing on my car. Having to walk everywhere is total bullshit,” she chuckles, pushing her severely straight-ironed chestnut hair back behind her ears. “Besides,” she adds, suddenly grinning mischievously as she tilts her head toward the entrance door. “It looks like you’re going to have your hands full for that last half an hour, and frankly, I don't want to be around to witness it.”

My eyebrows arch up, confused, and I whirl around to follow her gaze. “What the hell are you jabbering on—”

That's when I see him.

Jace Andrews has just strolled into the diner, accompanied by Blake and Rodney, his two best friends. They’ve known each other since childhood, too. Hell, we all have.

And just like Emily and I, they've lived here in Brooksville their entire lives.

But unlike Emily and I, they still believe the sun shines out Jace's ass, and I don't think there's a damn thing Jace could do to ever make them think differently.

Unfortunately, I don't have time to contemplate that or anything else, because Jace has already glanced in my direction and his eyes are locked on me.

I don't want to see him, but I can't seem to look away. And the sight of his chiseled jaw and broad shoulders has me instantly tingling in places I shouldn’t be.

He's certainly not trying to hide the crooked grin on his face at the sight of me, either.

“Looks like he's got you in his sights now, Izzy,” Emily says under her breath. “Lord help you now, girl.”

“Oh, please,” I mutter back. I know she's just trying to be funny, but there's a shred of truth to her words. “Even God can’t help me now.”

* * *

I make sure that Jace and his buddies are seated and that Emily has left the diner before I make my way over to the booth they've chosen. “What can I get you?” I ask in the most professional tone I can muster. I hate that he can inflict such pain in me—and such fucking desire—just by being here.

“Well, hey. I thought that was you over there.” Jace's eyes are alight with humor. He knows damn well I would avoid approaching this table if I could.

Hell, he knows me better than almost anyone, even Emily. Maybe even better than I know myself.

“It's me,” I reply with an edge. “Just like you're still you. Now, what can I get you guys?”

“Feisty,” Blake mutters under his breath, and both Jace and Rodney try to stifle their muted laughter.

“I will toss your ass out of this place,” I advise him venomously, my eyes burning into him while he tries to compose himself.

“That’s enough, Blake,” Jace speaks up, but there’s still amusement tainting his words, and I hate him for it. “We’ll just have coffee for now, Izzy.”

His use of my nickname brings me up short. I don’t have a good poker face, and I know the fact that it’s affecting me is written all over it. I want to curse at him, tell him he has no fucking right to use that name when addressing me, that he’s a complete and utter asshole for hurting me the way he did.

But I don’t. Not because I shouldn’t, but because all I can seem to focus on is how one corner of his mouth is still upturned in a sexy, devilish grin, and how those eyes of his are trained on me, undressing me. In front of everyone. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s how I feel.

I leave the table without another word, shaking my head to try to rid myself of the erotic thoughts careening through my mind.

I hate what he does to me. What he’s always done to me.

Jace and I grew up across the street from each other. Inseparable since elementary school, everyone in this godforsaken town expected us to grow up and be...well, Jace and Izzy. Just as we’d always been. He was my first real fight as a kid, and he had the shiner to prove it (that’ll teach him for calling me names). He was also my first kiss, my first date, and my first...everything. We’d had it all—the connection, the passion, and the friendship that it was all built upon.

No one ever thought there’d come a day we would go our separate ways.

I didn’t, either.

But Jace left me here without him three years ago, chasing his rodeo dream eight seconds at a time.

Guess he didn’t think there was room for me in that equation. At least, that’s the impression I got when I received the fucking text message he used to break up with me.

You deserve better than the life I can give you, Izzy...

That’s it. Dot, dot, fucking, dot. Not even an I love you at the end, which is how we’d always ended every conversation, verbal or written. Which showed exactly what was more important to him.

Now, three years later, I’ve had on-and-off boyfriends, but nothing serious. And Jack over at the Ford dealership that comes here for coffee every morning was nice enough to tell me he’d seen Jace with some bombshell-looking chick on his arm right before the rodeo event he’d attended last summer, wanting to see Jace, the hometown hero, live in action.

Yeah, sounds like he was in action, all right. Getting some action is more like it.

But I don’t care. At least, I shouldn’t. But fuck if it doesn’t eat me up inside just seeing him sitting there in that booth now, giving me fuck-me eyes and licking those lips of his I once loved so much.

Damn it, I think. This isn’t going to end well.

I place three mugs on a tray and pour coffee into them. I’m behind the counter, an employees-only area, so I don’t expect him to be there when I make to turn around. I gasp when his hands press into the counter on either side of me, blocking me in. “What the fuck are—”

“Put the tray down, and don’t turn around.” Jace’s hot breath caresses my ear as he whispers into it, and I feel liquid heat instantly pool within my core at the delicious sensation. I do as he says, something in his voice stopping me from arguing.

“You shouldn’t be back here,” I advise him weakly. My heart is beating so fucking hard I can barely hear my own voice over it.

“There are a lot of things I shouldn’t be,” he whispers. I can feel his mouth against my ear, and my knees are buckling in response to it. “For starters, I shouldn’t be over there, feeling like I’m a million miles away from you, Izzy.”

“You...I’m not…” I can’t get the words out. Jace’s fingertips are now tracing painstakingly slow circles on the back of my hand, the one that’s pressed against the countertop to steady me. I’m about ready to combust when he drags his teeth against my earlobe, pressing himself into me to hold me upright.

“When do you get off?”

When only a squeak of sound emits from my throat, a suggestive chuckle sounds against my ear. “Work, Izzy. When do you get off work?”

“S-soon,” I stammer. “Twenty minutes.”

“Meet me in the ladies’ bathroom in twenty-one.”