“I can’t see you. Who are you talking to—is someone there?” Crystal’s voice bled out of the speaker as he strode into his bedroom and slammed the door. She disappeared from the screen and returned a few seconds later dragging on a robe.

In all the time he’d known her, she’d never done anything like this. They Skyped once a week, and more often than not she was dressed in a sensible suit and sipping coffee behind the desk. On a couple of occasions, she’d sat on the sofa fully dressed in designer casualwear, but never like this.

He placed the laptop on his desk and sat down, then ripped off the Band-Aid.

“We’re alone.” He forced a tight smile. “This is a surprise.”

“Who were you talking to? It wasn’t your son, was it? I thought he was away.” Crystal’s hand gripped the edges of her satin gown closed between her breasts. There was a look of undiluted panic on her face.

“Rory is away.” He glanced at the time displayed at the bottom of the screen. One-thirty. He shouldn’t feel guilty—he had nothing to feel guilty about. Yes, he had a woman alone in his house in the early hours of the morning, but they weren’t involved in anything illicit. Explaining that, especially in light of his previous relationship with Ally, would be damn near impossible though.

“Jace?” Crystal planted her hands on her hips and glared.

“Someone is here. An investigator. They are in the other room. We have an emergency here, something to do with one of Rory’s friends, we were just doing some work.” It was misleading—deliberately misleading—to not mention the sex of the investigator. “I can’t really say much more about it at the moment. Tell me about you. Naked Skype is new.” He forced a smile.

“It was a surprise.” She pouted. “One that seems to have backfired spectacularly.” She perched on the end of her bed and brought the glass of champagne to her lips. “I won’t be doing it again.”

He should feel disappointed, but the prospect of not being surprised like this again brought an entirely different emotion to the surface—relief. Crystal was smart and logical, not subject to flights of fancy, or given to impulsive gestures. They’d dated for a few months, hooking up in a hotel when he visited Seattle. He enjoyed her conversation, and admired her dry wit. In theory, she was as ideal for him as he was for her.

“I’ve been having some problems with Rory.”

Crystal’s mouth tightened a fraction. “Oh?” She didn’t sound terribly interested.

“He got drunk and was found staggering on the road outside town with a girl who has since disappeared. I need to get to the bottom of this; I need to make sure both of them are going to be okay. I know you haven’t met him, but he’s a good kid.”

“But you’ve sent him to camp, so you’re obviously not that worried. I was hoping we could spend some time together while he was away—I want you to put me first for once.”

It was all about her. How had he never seen that before? She’d never been interested in talking about Rory, had time and time again turned conversations around to focus on their relationship rather than including Rory in future plans.

He’d thought her cool, collected and sophisticated. Now, her lack of empathy and interest in the person he cared about most seemed cold and callous.

He frowned. Was he being too harsh? Too judgmental? Was he imagining her not being sympathetic to Rory’s problems?

He tested her. “He’s been quiet the past couple of months. Something’s worrying him.” The moment the words were out, he realized they weren’t such a stretch at all. Rory had been withdrawn. Maybe he was caught up in Sophia’s problems; maybe it was more.

“He’ll be fine. He’s a teenager. Teenagers are dramatic.” Crystal swatted away his concerns.

He’d liked her. They never argued, and she was great in bed. Goddammit, he’d been on the point of tying them together forever. But it had only taken a couple of days with Ally to show him that it wasn’t enough. Liking a woman wasn’t enough to build a life on. “I need to see you.”

At least he hadn’t made the monumental error of proposing, even though he’d been close to it. He mentally cursed the reintroduction of Ally into his life. She’d churned up old feelings like a whirlpool in a glassy-surfaced lake. Had made the prospect of continuing his relationship impossible.

God knows if there was any future for a relationship with Ally, but seeing her again, experiencing the intense rush of desire for the first time since that night, shone a harsh spotlight on what was between him and Crystal.

He’d been ready to settle for less. But this reminder that there could be more out there, that all the logical evaluations of Crystal’s suitability of a mate meant nothing compared to the primitive surge of pure emotional response to Ally’s nearness.

Even if he and Ally came to nothing, his relationship with Crystal was all but over.

How could everything have done a one-eighty in such a short time? After that first night with Ally, he’d been a man possessed. He’d dropped everything in the hunt to find her.

His relationship with Crystal had formed in an entirely different way. He’d considered every move, checked her suitability in detail, and had been happy with his choice until Ally came back into his life.

It wasn’t fair or right to impulsively destroy what they had. He needed to see her alone—away from Shepherd’s Crook. Only then could he make a final decision about their future. Crystal deserved a face-to-face.

She glanced down to where her robe covered the swell of her breasts.

“No. I don’t mean that. I mean you and I need to meet. Need to talk. In person.” He glanced to the door, then back to the screen.

“That’s one of the reasons I was calling. I’m driving up to Portland tomorrow for a lunch meeting. I thought maybe we could meet—I could stay overnight and head back the next day.”

She’d never visited Shepherd’s Crook, and the thought of having her in his house while he was consumed with thoughts of Ally was a definite no.

He checked his diary on his phone. “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll meet you in Portland, but I can’t stay the night. Sorry.” He could tell by the look on her face this news was unwelcome, but fuck it, what else could he do? “I better go now and finish up with this investigator.”

Crystal drained her glass and reached out of view for a second, returning with a bottle to refill it. She didn’t smile when she said, “You do that.” A moment later she terminated the call.

* * *

Ally needed a cab. And fast. A quick check online gave her the number of a nearby service, and the moment Jace reentered the room, she asked for his address.

“127 Pineway.” His forehead creased. “Why do you want to know?”

She held up her phone. “Calling a cab. We’ve both had too much alcohol to drive.”

“You can stay the night.”

She raised an eyebrow at that one.

“I have a spare room,” he clarified. “It makes sense to stay—it’ll take half an hour for a cab to make it out to us here.”

“I’ll wait.” She made the call and arranged a pick-up.

“Crystal and I…”

She extended a hand, palm out. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. I hope me being here doesn’t cause a problem for you and your girlfriend.”

“It does.”

“You should have told her nothing happened.” Because nothing had. Except in her head. Her stupid head.

“I told her someone was here. I didn’t go into details.”

“Fine.” She packed up the laptop and put on her jacket. Maybe she could wait outside or something—she could do with some fresh air. And the prospect of being away from him was a damned sight more attractive than staying here, thinking of him stripping off to sex Skype with her boss.

“You being here causes me a problem.” He stepped close and gripped her upper arms. “It causes me one hell of a problem.”

“My cab will be here in a moment. Problem solved.”

He shook his head. “Problem not solved.” He looked at her mouth. “I never thought I’d see you again. I convinced myself that what we had was just some crazy moment. I’ve been with other people since that night, and never been so caught up in a woman that I relived every touch, every taste.” His mouth twisted. “For months after you left, I couldn’t think of anything but seeing you again. Of finding you. I tried, but every lead I found led nowhere.”

“This is ancient history.”

“It was. Until the moment you arrived at my door.”

He was still holding her, and the urge to just give in and kiss him was overwhelming. “You obviously have a woman now. Someone who cares for you.”

He let her go, but didn’t move away. “We spoke about Crystal on Ben’s yacht. We’ve been seeing each other for a while.” He ran a hand through his hair. “If you hadn’t fucking come back into my life, I might have even proposed to her. I know she’s expecting it.”

“So you love her.” She felt as though she’d been kicked in the chest by a horse.

“She was right for me, and we would have made a good match. She hasn’t visited here, but I’d planned to remedy that soon, and introduce her to Rory.” He took his wine glass from the table, filled it, and drank deeply. “Everything feels different now.”

“I don’t want to be with you.” Her voice sounded definite. Sure. But her words didn’t fool either of them.

“You’re lying.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “You want a repeat of that night just as much as I do.”

She shook her head, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded.

“Say what you want, but your body is telling me different.” He touched her cheek. “Every time I touch you, you lean in. Your breathing hitches, and your eyes change.” His hand fell away, and he drained his glass. “Goddammit, Ally—I want to strip your clothes off and fuck you on the kitchen table. I’ve never felt like that with anyone else. Crystal naked Skyped me, and all I wanted was to get off that call and come back here to you.”

“You’re delusional. We don’t want the same things.” She turned away, and shoved her laptop under her arm. “You have a woman, I have…” What—work? By the time Crystal realized she’d been alone in Jace’s house in the middle of the night, she might not even have a job. “I have my life. Which isn’t here. I’ll be gone in a few days, and we haven’t made any foolish choices, so don’t fuck up your life for some fantasy.” She walked to the door and turned back to him. “I’ll wait outside for the cab. I’ll keep looking for Sophia and call you when I find something.”

He strode across the room, and put his hand on the door handle, bracketing her between his body and the door. “I’m meeting Crystal in Portland tomorrow. I need to talk to her.”

She pressed a hand to his chest, and instantly wished she hadn’t. The feel of his hard muscles under her hand, his nearness made her want things she shouldn’t.

Light pierced the frosted glass panel in the door as a car appeared outside. Saved by the cab.

“I’m not delusional.” His breath feathered over her lips, and then his hard mouth pressed against hers, his tongue invaded her mouth, and unbelievably, she was kissing him back as though her life depended on it.

* * *

The assignment was over, or would be, the moment Jace met with Crystal. If he was telling the truth about meeting with her today—she had no reason to doubt him, but believing the worst came as second nature. One way or another she was done.

Crystal had set a trap and Jace had walked right into it. Ally’d done everything in her power to warn him off up until the moment he kissed her. Maybe if the cab hadn’t turned up, they would have ended up in bed having crazy ‘don’t think about the consequences’ sex, if they made it that far without ripping each other’s clothes off.

But today was a new day. And she wouldn’t leave Shepherd’s Crook without finding Sophia. Some good had to come from this disastrous week. She started early in the Sunrise Diner where she claimed her favorite table, and succumbed to all of Mary’s suggestions, going for pancakes stacked high and drizzled with enough syrup to sweeten the sourest of days. And today would certainly be that. Anticipation was a killer. Every time her phone buzzed, her mouth went dry, and her heart rate accelerated at the possibility that it was Crystal on the line. The wise move would be to turn her cell off, but there was no way she could. She hadn’t been unreachable in a decade. Not that there was anyone she wanted to hear from, but on the off chance...

“More coffee?” Mary stood by the table holding a glass coffee jug.

“Great.” Ally held up her cup.

“No Jace today?” Mary pitched it casual, but her eyes took a keen interest in every emotion Ally might reveal. “He’s such a nice guy. And his son, Rory…” She shook her head from side to side, a smile on her lips. “That boy is almost as charming as his father. Have you met him?”

“Yes, I have.” He hadn’t been showing much of his charming side—he’d been barely showing his conscious side, but there was no need to reveal that particular nugget. “I know he’s away at the moment; Jace was saying Rory was upset about being parted from a new girlfriend. I met her too…pretty girl with pink and blue hair…” She frowned and rubbed her temple as if her memory failed her.

“Kenna Miller,” Mary delivered. “They come in for coffee sometimes.”

“Kenna, that’s right.” Ally smiled, and Mary and her coffeepot moved on to the next table.

Sophia—Kenna—didn’t do social media, or did it so covertly she was an expert at hiding her tracks because there’d been no trace of her in Ally’s investigations. Sometimes the old ways were the best. Before the internet, checking out diners would have been one of the first things a PI would have done.

It didn’t matter if Jace met with Crystal today or not. Ally’d call her tonight to report that she was done with this assignment. After that—who knew? If Jace learned the truth, that Ally worked for Crystal, any chance of a renewed relationship between them was dead in the water. It would always be that way. The feeling inside—emptiness, a melancholy bordering on despair—had to be pushed aside. Had to be ignored, in favor of action. The clock was ticking on her time in Shepherd’s Crook, and she had a girl to find.

Armed with Kenna’s name, Ally found the addresses of two Millers in the local online phonebook: one was in the center of town, one on the outskirts.

She paid the check for breakfast and left a bill on the table.

“See you later!” Mary called, as Ally shouldered open the door. A glance back. A smile. More likely than not, she’d never visit the diner again, but life was too short for goodbyes.

The heat wrapped around her like a damp blanket once she left the cool confines of the diner. Ally twisted her hair off her neck and fastened it with a band from her pocket. The rhythm of life here was slower. Gentler. Instead of rushing to the next destination, she lingered, enjoying the journey.

Her life was so fucked-up. She lived alone, kept lovers at arm’s length, and spent her days picking at the scabs of other people’s relationships. The only people she’d ever cared about—her family—didn’t want anything to do with her. Now Belle was pulling away too. This Christmas, she’d be alone again.

Casual hookups where she shared her body, but kept her mind, her thoughts, dreams, and heart private, weren’t enough anymore. She’d belonged, once. And deserved to belong again. Ally stuck her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, and stepped lightly across the road, checking a street sign to ensure she was on the right path to the first house. When this was over, she’d go to Belle’s. Talk to her sister face-to-face. Put herself out there, and hope to hell that her sister could find a way to let her back into her life.

Because living like this, being permanently alone, wasn’t an option any longer.

The first house that could be Sophia’s didn’t fit the mental picture in Ally’s mind. It was freshly painted and the grass in the front yard was neatly trimmed and the front steps scrubbed. A kid’s trike lay in the grass, and where the drapes were pulled aside, she could see a cat snoozing on the back of the sofa on top of a brightly patterned throw. Suburbia on steroids.

She walked up to the door and rang the bell. After a few minutes, a harried-looking woman jerked the door open. A child, who looked to be about two, clung to her leg, and her attention was distracted as she called to another child—out of range—to quit doing what he was doing unless he wanted to be in trouble with a capital T. Ally couldn’t hold back a grin. She’d been in trouble with a capital T more times than she could count.

“Help you?” the woman asked. “If you’re selling something, I ain’t buying.”

Ally shook her head. “I’m not selling anything. Promise. I’m just looking for someone. Kenna Miller?”

“Kenna!” the little girl clinging to her mother’s leg shouted in childish excitement. Her grin showed a fine collection of tiny white teeth. She bounced up and down like a rubber ball on a trampoline.

Her mother shushed her, then looked back at Ally. “Well, you’re half right. We are Millers. But Kenna don’t live here.” Her expression turned wary. “Why are you looking for her?”

Thinking on her feet was part of the job description. “I’m new in town, and was looking for a babysitter. Someone in the diner suggested her.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded as though that sounded credible.

“I found two families with the surname Miller in the phone book, and I was passing so I thought I’d stop in and maybe meet her. I want to make sure she’s the right person.” Ally tried her best to look apologetic. “You know how it is, it’s so difficult to leave your baby with anyone, even for a couple of hours.”

The woman’s face softened. “How old is your baby?”

“He’s eighteen months. My husband wants us to go and celebrate our anniversary…” God, this story was getting more complicated by the second.

“Kenna is my niece. Her daddy is my husband’s brother.” Mrs. Miller leaned closer. “She’s a great babysitter, she minds Mandy here sometimes, and she’s good with smaller ones too. It can be difficult to get her though, she’s needed at home in the daytime, and often in the evenings too to look after her brother and sisters if her pa is working.”

“Oh, is her mother…” Ally waved a hand around. “Excuse me—that’s none of my business.”

Mrs. Miller glanced around as if checking she wasn’t being overheard. “Her mother isn’t right,” she whispered. “She ain’t been the same since the accident.”