Jeff spilled his morning coffee when Peyton came storming into the breakfast room, shrieking at him.

“I can’t believe you did this to me!” She stomped right up to the table and glared at him. “You wanted to humiliate me, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told your mother the wedding is off.”

“Of course I told her. And I told her I’d cover any expenses she might—”

“You also called our wedding planner behind my back. You are such a sneak!”

Jeff sighed as he used his napkin to mop up the puddle of coffee on the table. “I asked you to call her three times, but you never did. It wouldn’t be fair to cancel on Miranda last minute.”

“I didn’t call her because we are still getting married. You agreed to make up and forget about what happened.”

He pushed away the memory of Peyton and Gerald going at it when he’d walked in on them. In his own house. His own bed. “I never said I would forget about what happened. I said we’d try to work things out.”

“But we have worked things out,” she whined. “Besides, it’s too late. The invitations—”

“They were not sent.”

After a speechless moment her face crumpled and she burst into tears. Although Jeff usually melted when she cried, today as Peyton sank into a chair at the kitchen table he couldn’t help thinking about the birthday cake he’d left in that very spot the night everything fell apart. The cake she had gone ahead and enjoyed after shattering his heart.

“I suppose your whole family is laughing at me,” she blubbered between sobs. “Hoping you’ll finally get rid of the low-class girl from the sticks that they never wanted in the family anyway.”

“Stop it, Peyton. My family welcomed you with open arms.”

“Your sister hates me.”

“As my twin, Kendra is just protective over me and would be hard on any woman I chose. All I told my mother was that our professional commitments were too overwhelming and we mutually decided to put off the wedding another year.” The truth was, if any of his brothers found out what Peyton had done to him, their welcome would go down the drain in a heartbeat and they would indeed boot her out of the family. So the lie he told his mother was to shield Peyton as well as his pride.

“Did your mother believe you?” she asked, wiping her tears with a napkin.

He shrugged. “As it turns out, my cousin decided to get married at the vineyard this summer, so that tempered my mom’s disappointment and shifted her attention to a new event.”

“Shannon?” Peyton tsked. “Her husband’s not an important man like you. Our wedding was going to be the event of the summer. And you’ve ruined it all.”

Between her ridiculous accusation and her bitter tone, Jeff was ready to hurl some nasty words at Peyton or toss the table across the room. But he wasn’t a violent person. He hated shouting and fighting. So he took a few breaths, steadied his voice and said, “No, Peyton, you ruined it. You are the one that broke the trust between us. And there is no way I’m going forward unless we can rebuild that trust.”

“Oh, really? How about that little blonde named Carly? You said she’s a waitress or something, right? How long have you had her on the side? I bet you’re still—”

“That only happened after you and I separated and I haven’t seen her since. I’m not the kind of man who cheats on—”

“Oh, please. That’s what all men say. Well, she looked like a real dope. Is it because my IQ threatens you? I suppose you prefer someone who can’t complete.”

Did all women lash out when they were hurt? Was Peyton now doing exactly what Carly did—attacking her female competition? The fact that Carly had come back at him with that crazy story about Peyton meant he must have really hurt her. Why else would she act so out of character with that low blow? So unlike the person he’d gotten to know intimately in Paris.

Peyton swigged the last of her coffee and stood. She huffed and said, “You can go by yourself to that family luncheon this afternoon. I’m not showing my face again at your parents’ house until you and I have a wedding date.” As she marched out of the room, she called over her shoulder, “Maybe you should take that little bimbo with you.”

Jeff sat staring into his now cold coffee. Two weeks had passed since he’d returned from Paris. He’d told himself his feelings for Carly would start to fade. That in another couple weeks he would forget her. But he knew it was a lie. Knew he couldn’t. Every day that went by he missed her more.

In fact it was probably one of the reasons he and Peyton were having such a rocky road back to couplehood. Okay, they’d both had flings with someone else, so they were even up now, but Jeff was plagued with guilt because secretly he knew what happened with Carly was more than a fling.

He’d begun falling in love with her.

But didn’t he love Peyton?

Yes, he did. But in a different way. She was almost like a little girl to him, a problem child that only he knew how to care for. Her high-strung nature made it difficult for her to sit still and enjoy simple things the way he could with Carly. Which gave him an idea.

Jeff put thoughts of Carly out of his mind and trudged upstairs. He heard Peyton opening and closing drawers in the master bedroom. He still couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the bed where Peyton had sex with that Gerald dude. Jeff was still sleeping in the guest bedroom down the hall. A few times Peyton had appeared in the room and crawled into the bed with him, wrapping her arms and legs around him, but Jeff had pretended to be asleep. He guessed it was residual resentment that would dissipate over time, but he just wasn’t turned on by her anymore.

Not that they’d ever had really great sex. He knew that now that he’d experienced what really great sex could be like—with Carly. He wondered if she had ruined him for anyone else.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I figure I’ll go into the office and catch up on some patient records.”

“You can’t do that here?”

“It’s better that I get out when I’m angry with you.” She put on a sweet sultry pout. “Okay, not really angry, just annoyed.” Stepping toward him, looking like a little girl ashamed of the tantrum she’d just thrown, Peyton buried her face against Jeff’s chest, her arms encircling his waist.

His heart squeezed with concern and love for her. He wrapped his arms around this woman that only a few weeks ago he’d seen as his future wife. Now he couldn’t be sure of anything. It wasn’t only the breach of trust that changed that. It was something his sister, Kendra, had said to him over and over about his relationship with Peyton being one-sided, with him always being the one to give in, to provide, to do the caretaking.

Despite Carly’s petty and preposterous attack on Peyton that made him realize he didn’t really know her, she had given him a brief taste of what Kendra meant. Carly had gone out of her way to do sweet things for him in Paris and she was somehow able to make strolling hand in hand or sharing a coffee a meaningful experience.

And that changed what he was willing to settle for in a wife.

He nuzzled the top of Peyton’s head. “I was thinking that we ought to try spending more time at home sharing simple things.”

She wiggled out of his embrace. “You know I hate all that homey stuff. It bores me.”

“How about when I used to tutor you when you were in med school?” He thought about the sweet girl she’d been then. He’d been fresh out of medical school and in the first year of his residency when they met.

“That was different. That was a challenge, a goal. A race to a prize at the end.”

“But we’ve both been so caught up in our careers that we need some downtime, nights where all we do is make popcorn and watch a movie.”

“And don’t forget ping pong,” Peyton said, her tone dripping with sarcasm, as she slid her feet into her red high heels.

“You look pretty spiffy just to go pore over some medical files.”

She stood tall, chin high. “Who knows who I might run into? I’m an MD now, Jeff. I’m not going to walk around dressed like some…waitress.”

Point taken. Shot landed. Jeff walked out and headed to the guest room to get himself ready to go to the family get-together. He felt bad for hurting Peyton and for spending what was to be their romantic Paris vacation with Carly. But at the time he’d been certain he and Peyton were finished.

And being with Carly had seemed so right.

Carly froze behind the bar at Sarvinger’s by the Sea, her gaze riveted on the woman who just walked in.

Yep, it was Jeff’s fiancée, looking gorgeous in a short, tight skirt and red fuck-me heels, her dark hair cascading over the shoulders of her sleeveless silk blouse that looked like it cost a pretty penny.

Carly hadn’t seen her lately, although she did hear some of the wait staff joking about her the other day—and had just walked away from the conversation. Her wounds from Jeff’s rejection and his final cruel words were still too raw for her to laugh about the situation and pretend she didn’t know the man who was going to be the husband of the woman Carly’s fellow workers had dubbed “the Madam of Sarvinger’s.”

Peyton usually walked in with a man on her arm, but today she was alone. For a moment a chill ran through Carly at the thought that Jeff might be coming in next, maybe out for a lunch date with his fiancée. But it seemed doubtful Peyton would agree to come with him to a place where her secret life might be revealed. Was she meeting someone here today?

The answer came when Peyton smiled at the sole customer sitting at the bar. A good-looking fortyish man sipping a dry martini Carly had made for him.

Oh no. Peyton made a beeline for the man. As soon as she reached him, Carly swiftly dipped into a squat behind the bar, pretending to work on a low shelf.

Dammit. Peyton had never done that before. Usually she took her men directly to the elevators and up to the room she maintained at the inn. Unlike a big hotel with a lobby, Sarvinger’s bar-restaurant took up the main floor and the elevators were banked along a side hallway behind it—which meant Carly would be safe if they would just move along to do their deed.

When Peyton had seen Carly at Jeff’s Bridgehampton house the day they came back from Paris, she hadn’t recognized her as a bartender from Sarvinger’s. Not surprising since Carly had never waited on her and Peyton had no reason to learn who all the bartenders were when her usual drill was to buzz through to the elevators.

But after that horrible day when the two women met face to face—with Jeff in the middle—well, you could bet Peyton would recognize her now. Carly just hoped no one called her by name.

A quick peek over the bar told her Peyton had now perched on a barstool and appeared to be waiting to be served. And of course these were off-hours so Carly was the only bartender on until five tonight.

“Gemma,” Carly hissed, calling to a waitress passing by. Facing away from Peyton, she stood, covering one eye with her hand. “I’ve got something in my eye and need to hurry to the ladies’ room. Could you take over the bar for me until I can deal with this?”

Gemma nodded and hurried behind the bar. “What happened?”

“Not sure. But there’s a customer waiting.”

Gemma gave a low chuckle. “Did you see who it is? The Madame of Sarvinger’s.”

“Can’t look right now. This hurts like hell. Be back in ten.” And she rushed out of the restaurant and into the ladies’ room, closing herself in a restroom stall.

How long would she have to wait before Peyton left the bar? Was she going to nurse her drink and indulge in cutesy chitchat?

Carly pulled her phone from her pocket, thinking she could call Jim, the other bartender, and ask him to come early so she could leave because of the “accident” with her eye. Then she could sneak out the back door and be gone.

But what about other days?

Carly had figured it was only a matter of time before they ran into each other here. She’d even considered quitting, but she needed this job. And she loved working here because she could look from the bar out to the huge windows along the wall that faced the ocean. The place had such an airy, spacious seaside atmosphere to it that made her feel happy.

But today, she felt like a rat trapped in a cage.

Because of a selfish, spoiled, lying, cheating woman.

She’d already taken Jeff and along with it Carly’s beautiful Paris dreams. She wasn’t going to give up her job too.

Okay, Jeff. This is the woman you want and you think I’m the one lying? Well, how about some proof?

Carly quietly stepped out of the ladies’ room, phone cam in hand. She hovered in the shadows near the wall but aimed it at the “couple” just now leaving the bar and ambling to the elevators in the hall.

Before she could scroll for Jeff’s number to send it to him, a group of eight sat at the bar and she could see poor Gemma getting frantic since she also had a table for six filling up in the restaurant section.

Carly shoved her phone back in her pocket and raced to the bar. “Thanks, Gemma. You really are a gem! I got this.”

She turned to the eight guys sitting at the bar, looking all sunny and fresh, like they’d just been out boating.

“Hey, Carly. I didn’t know you worked here.”

And there was Eli Jones, smiling at her with those white teeth and big blue eyes. She’d gone out with him about five times last summer. He was a fun guy, but she hadn’t felt any real chemistry between them. Fearing he might want something she couldn’t give, she had broken it off.

“Hey, Eli. Lookin’ good, big guy. What are you drinking?”

Before she knew it, Eli and his friends had her laughing and joking and somehow forgetting about the heartache that had her crying herself to sleep every night for the past two weeks. The group of rowdy guys even blocked her from the view of Madam Slut an hour later as she made her way from the elevators and through the bar-restaurant to the main door.

When Eli asked Carly to go out with him next weekend, she said yes.

It was time to move on, away from this sad and sordid melodrama.

And on the phone in her pocket she had the perfect send-off.

Ironically, Jeff was having a great time today at his family gathering. Sure, there’d been an awkward moment during lunch when his mom reported the cancelled wedding, but no one challenged the “two doctors too busy to get married” excuse, at least not overtly.

Now, after he and Kendra had delivered a tennis beat-down to his brother Grant and his cousin Raina, Jeff sat near the pool laughing and relaxing with a cold beer.

And he felt a relief from the heaviness that he’d somehow taken on over the last couple years. He usually dismissed the heaviness as one of the consequences of being a doctor. He wondered if this happy respite came from being here at the vineyard on what was still home turf to him. But as he thought about it, he realized he’d also felt this lightness in Paris. With Carly.

An inner guilt immediately surged inside him at the thought, but another part of him had to acknowledge that he might be happier if he and Peyton broke up. Maybe they weren’t such a great match after all.

As if reading his thoughts, as she often did, Kendra sat next to him and said, “I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time. Duh, maybe it’s because you-know-who isn’t with you today.”

“Please don’t start.” Jeff rolled his eyes at his cousin Rainy who’d taken the chair on his other side at the round poolside umbrella table.

“Trouble in paradise?” Rainy said. She had one of those husky Lauren Bacall voices that matched her serious nature. The kind of person who took time to think about things.

Unlike his twin, who always been hyper and competitive and had a big mouth.

“Hey, I’m sure Rainy understands,” Kendra said, smirking. “She’s been through relationship hell too. So she’s not about to believe your ridiculous story about why you’re cancelling the wedding.”

Jeff was used to his sister speaking her mind and was just glad his brothers weren’t around to ride him until he spilled it all. He gave her the third-finger salute. “Enough already.”

“I’m sorry, Jeff.” Kendra sighed. “My bad. You know me. I tend to lead with my mouth. It’s just that I think it’s a shame. The two of you”—she gestured to Jeff and Rainy—“are both the kind of people that go out of your way to help others. You have such big hearts and you’re so generous. And because of that, certain kinds of people take advantage of you. And it makes me mad.” With that, Kendra stood, pulled off the tank top she wore over her bathing suit, and took a running dive into the pool.

“Okay, so much for that,” Jeff said, turning to his cousin. She and Jeff were labeled the intellects in the family, and as Kendra said, Rainy had this thing about problem solving to rescue others, just as Jeff did. But Jeff had been lucky to be in a stable well-off family, while Rainy had faced troubles at an early age and wound up taking care of her younger sister, Shannon, and kid brother, Kip, and even her father when her mom died. Now she used her law degree to help kids in need.

“Don’t feel bad,” Raina said. “Have you forgotten about my horrible divorce three years ago? And my latest move was to help out a not-so-successful attorney because I stupidly fell in love with him.”

“Yeah, I heard you were engaged before you came back east.” Raina had moved to New York from California last summer. “I take it things didn’t work out.”

“As soon as I helped him land a position in a law firm I’d been with for six years, he decided to back to his old girlfriend. Now I’m not so sure he’d ever left her.” Raina took a drink of the iced orange juice she’d set on the table. “Bad enough being his number two. For all I know, he’d been playing me as his girl on the side. Hurts when you think you know someone and they betray you like that.”

A pain he related to all too well. He couldn’t help but wonder if Peyton’s fling with Gerald was really the only time it happened. “Sometimes it’s hard to know. At least for me.” He grabbed a handful of nuts from the bowl his mother always kept filled on the table. “Kendra didn’t like Peyton from the get-go. Meanwhile, all I saw was a poor girl without a family all alone in the world. A girl who needed help. So I answered the call. The fact is that she’s very smart and will be a terrific doctor. I was her tutor when she was in med school and most of the time I’d find out she hadn’t eaten all day. So I started buying her dinner and one thing led to the next.” He smiled at the memory. “I just had no idea I’d fall in love with her.”

“Lucky for her you came along.”

“Ah, she’d find somebody else. While I can see her vulnerabilities, I can also tell she’s a survivor. The question is, just which kind?”