I walked away from him. I simply couldn’t sit there anymore, hearing about Jack.

I hadn’t meant to lay that guilt trip on Lance, about saving Jack. It had just come blurting out of nowhere. His face had crumpled like I had stabbed him in the heart. If I could take back the words, I would. I mightn’t know anything about what the SEALs did on their operations, but I knew enough to know it was dangerous work. That they could be killed anytime.

He thought I still loved Jack, and I didn’t deny it. But the love was just a fading memory now. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t deny it. Maybe some old shred of loyalty to Jack, I just don’t know.

It was hard, too, sitting opposite Lance. Having him so close, after so long. He was so attractive, even after all this time. I had been hoping that the pull that had always happened between us might have waned after so long. But it was still there, throbbing away beneath the surface. I could almost touch it.

I walked back to the kitchen, tidying up as I went. I had to prep for tonight’s dinner – get the lamb slow cooking in the oven. It felt good to be working. I tried hard not to think about Lance sitting in the next room. His rock-hard arms and that rippling chest I could see beneath his thin t-shirt…

Damn. I leaned against the kitchen bench. I could feel sweat trickling down my neck and between my breasts. Whoa, girl.

It had been a long drought; I hadn’t been with anyone since I had broken up with Jack, and when we were still together we hadn’t done anything in a long time. I felt like I was on a trigger pull, and seeing Lance in all his masculine glory was flicking that switch big time.

But I couldn’t go there. I just couldn’t. There was too much history, but of the wrong kind. I had been with his best friend, who had just been killed. It seemed disloyal.

I would just have to suck it up. Maybe keep an eye out for a good-looking cowboy at the Rodeo, to slake the thirst.

I got lost in my prep, and when I went back into the kitchen he was gone. Hank said he had gone to bed, wrecked after his long trip. I tried not to feel disappointed. I tried not to feel like an A grade bitch for the things I had said to him.

But it all failed. Lance was back in my head, playing ball.

The men tucked into the slow cooked lamb that night, singing me praises, as always.

Ah, men. So long as you kept their bellies full and their cocks singing, they were easily pleased. I couldn’t help smiling to myself.

I had always kept their bellies full. But as for the other, well, there had only ever been Jack. And I hadn’t satisfied him in a long time. I had tried, even talking of what turned me on in the emails we shared. I thought it might keep our spark alive, talking dirty to each other. But Jack had never liked it.

And that had made me feel ashamed. Was there something wrong with me?

“What does a man have to do to get fed around here?”

I turned sharply, bumping my hip against the kitchen bench as I did so. Ouch. That would be blue by tomorrow.

It was Lance, of course. Freshly showered, he was dressed in tight blue jeans and a white T. Looking like a taller, buffer version of Jimmy Dean. All he needed was the black leather jacket. My heart started pounding like a jack hammer. Damn he was one hot man.

“Sit down,” I commanded. “I’ll bring it out.”

He sauntered out into the night air, sitting alongside the ranch hands.

They were happy to see him, of course. Lots of back slapping and sparring. Lance had always been popular; he never played the Big Boss card with them like a lot of ranchers around here. He rolled up his sleeves and worked alongside them, but they never took advantage. Lance just had that natural air of authority that made men want to please him, without even realising it.

“Your meal, sir,” I couldn’t resist saying as I put the plate in front of him.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Sir?” He slowly picked up his knife and fork. “Oh yes, well I guess I am your boss now, aren’t I? You have to address me in the proper manner.”

I grinned, despite myself. Flirting with Jack was like taking a quick sip of soda, when the bubbles filled your nose and you got that giddy, effervescent sugar high. Addictive.

“Don’t start getting too cocky, now,” I re-joined. He looked at me, slowly.

Our eyes locked together. He broke into a long, slow smile. “Getting cocky sounds mighty fine to me, Miss Gemma.”

I felt myself blushing. What was happening? All the men were looking at us, their mouths open.

“The food’s getting cold.” I turned on my heel and scurried back to the kitchen, flustered.

After the dishes for the evening were done, I walked to the look out as I always did to watch the sun set. I never tired of it. It was spectacular. The sky slowly started filling with the most amazing oranges and pinks, smearing the sky like an artist’s canvas. The mountains started to blacken against it.

I could see him approaching me, and my heart quickened.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He leaned against the fence, drinking in the view. This was always my favorite spot, from when I was a kid. Ma used to take me down here before bed. We would gaze at the mountains for a long time. It’s one of my best memories.” He turned to me. “I can see you like it, too.”

“What’s not to like?” I answered. “You are one lucky man, Lance. Growing up here, surrounded by this beauty. Not like me, stuck in Clear Creek among all the small-town gossips.”

“But you’re here now, aren’t you?” He turned to me. “I take it you’re living on site, in the cook’s quarters?”

“That I am, Mr Starling,” I smiled. “They sure are comfy quarters for the little old cook.”

“Ah, Gemma, you know I don’t think that way,” he said. “It’s still the same between us, friends. Just forget that I employ you.”

Friends. It was a funny way to think of everything that we had been to each other. Kind of bittersweet.

It made me sad. “I’d better go, Lance.” I feigned yawning. “Big day, and all that. Need my beauty sleep.”

“That you don’t Gemma. I think if you never slept again, you would still have it in abundance.” He looked at me, intensely.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I smiled at him, and left.

In my room, I showered before bed, getting into my baby doll nightie. I brushed my hair at the dressing table, thinking.

It seemed some things never changed. The attraction between Lance and myself was burning as bright as ever.

It was such a pity I couldn’t do anything about it.