Two weeks. She’d dodged her editor that long, praying every night he would call. But now, staring out the windows of Miranda’s office, Jillian knew she’d not only have to face the truth. She’d have to say it out loud. And without breaking down.

She’d been an emotional wreck ever since she got back. Last night, she cried hysterically when she got her period. She’d known statistics weren’t on her side. She took her pills religiously and had no desire to be pregnant, except it would be a reason to call him.

She’d gone so far as to call Angela, but she wasn’t there. Jillian couldn’t bring herself to dial Ben’s number. She didn’t think she’d live through him talking as coldly to her as she’d heard him do to Angela.

It was over, her lingering question of what they could be unequivocally answered. Jillian peered into the windows of the building across the street, but she couldn’t see through the mirrored windows. Did anyone there feel as devastated as she did at this moment? Jillian shook her head and turned to Miranda’s desk. A crystal bowl sat on the corner, filled with individually wrapped chocolates.

Jillian took one, unwrapping it with precision. Thirty-five calories. Maybe the sugar rush would help her deal with Miranda, once she finally walked through the door. Before the first one melted on her tongue, Jillian was unwrapping the second. The wrappers could fold flat, easy to hide in the palm of her hand.

She couldn’t wait for the chocolate to melt, so she began to chomp at piece after piece. Peanut, crunch, milk chocolate, dark. She ate them until the sugar burned her mouth, her throat felt thick from swallowing. Until the bowl was empty and she had a square stack of wrappers in her hand.

Jillian cursed herself and hid the wrappers in the portfolio she’d carried in with her. Ever-prepared to take notes. Prepared for anything professionally, except explain what a wreck she was in her personal life.

She sucked the chocolate from her teeth and pressed her feet tighter into her shoes. These binges were getting to be an everyday occurrence, the control she’d mastered over her compulsive eating slipping every day. She’d started going to meetings again, but it was spiraling out of control. There was nothing to grab hold of, no place to anchor to. Ben’s rejection and the impending doom of this meeting weighed heavy on her mind. Maybe after she knew her fate, she could start to get control again.

“Jillian.” She jumped at the sound of her name and turned to watch her editor, Miranda Lavigne, saunter into the room. She was the perfect picture of the New York career woman. Flowing, straight dark hair, crisp, tailored suit, painfully severe heels. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long. The only drawback to having your kids in the on-site daycare is you feel like you can stay just a minute longer.”

Jillian gave a closed-mouth smile, not trusting that the chocolate had melted away just yet. “How are the girls?”

“Temperamental divas, but what can I expect?” Miranda’s smile was warm and inviting as she took her seat across the desk from Jillian. “You look good. I like your hair.”

Jillian brought a hand to her darkened hair. The day she’d gotten back, she’d gone to the colorist and begged for brown. Ben had mentioned over and over he liked it better that way. It wasn’t the plain brown of her youth; this was a mixture of cinnamon, amber, maple, and toffee. Every time she looked in the mirror she thought of him and wished she hadn’t done it.

“Thanks. It was a whim.” A silly, stupid notion. Soon to be remedied. She’d made an appointment with a new colorist for next week.

“It suits you.” Miranda leaned back in her chair and unbuttoned her blazer. “Let’s get right to it, shall we? Is there something you want to tell me, Jillian?”

“I don’t think so.” She really didn’t. Her disastrous personal life was her business. And if Miranda wasn’t going to call it to the floor, Jillian was not about to bring it there willingly. Even if she knew she’d bent the rules by carrying on an affair while working.

“Okay.” Miranda scooted closer to her desk, leaning her elbows on the top and folding her hands together. “What are your plans for the next year?”

“My plans?” They were going to suspend her for an entire year?

“Come now, Jilly. You don’t have to be so secretive. Even your agent won’t spill the details.”

“I’m not following you.” Her forehead cramped where her brows knit together. Just what was the woman referring to?

“A novel? Or more travel pieces? You have twelve columns ready, even if I make some web-only you’ll still be able to swing six months off.” Miranda leaned closer, resting her chin on her hands. “I guess what I really want to know is, are you planning on coming back? Or are you waiting to see what happens with your project, and the man back home?”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s Fanning an Old Flame, the first column you sent in while you were there, right? I saw the picture and it clicked with me. It’s him, isn’t it?”

Sugar and chocolate lurched in her belly. What to say? How to explain? She hadn’t been planning on taking time off—she liked her job, wanted to make the columns the best they could be. She needed to work, to fill the hours, to fill her life.

“I’d like some notice, if you are leaving. But it would be a great transition—Catching The One Who Got Away. That could be your final column.” Miranda’s smile was friendly, genuine.

Jillian nodded, swallowing the bile burning the back of her throat. The wheels of her head turned, searching for a plausible explanation that would allow her to save face, and keep her job.

“I’m committed to my job here, but I’ve always wondered if I had a book in me. I didn’t think I had enough experience logged yet, so I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.”

“You’re a wonderful writer, Jillian. And besides, a best-selling author on staff is good for numbers. Just keep in touch, and let me know what you’re planning to do.”

* * *

“Not now!” Ben yelled at whomever dared knock on his office door. He did not care to be bothered. Now, or anytime in the near future. The damned reporter had run the story in the local paper anyway, which just so happened to get picked up by a syndicated news service and make the rounds on CNN and MSN.com.

Advertising and promos to repair the damage had blown his budget completely. Not to mention the money his father was spending on the private investigator trying to find Jay.

Such a waste. The guy only seemed to call in daily and report that neither of them had used their credit cards or been pulled over for speeding. At this rate there was no way Ben would be able to buy his father out by the end of the summer. Which was not an option. He had to have the resort, free and clear. He needed it, something to define him, something to keep him so busy he wouldn’t think of how all of this was Jillian’s fault.

Well, not all of it. It was a coincidence that toads started exploding the second she landed in the state. But still. It was an omen. He should have seen it coming.

He was through with people, women in particular. He had his work and his dogs. He didn’t need anything else.

The infernal knocking started again. Ben thought of throwing something at the door, and looked around to see what wasn’t nailed down. Nothing that wouldn’t break and make a mess for him to clean up. He opted to ignore the sound and concentrate on the balance sheet mocking him from his computer screen.

The door clicked open. Ben’s eyes shot daggers at the door. What kind of idiot couldn’t take the hint? And just where was his assistant? What good was she if she couldn’t keep simple annoyances away?

“What crawled up your ass?” Jay’s blond head peeked through the door. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he pushed the door aside and ambled into the room.

Ben blinked at the unexpected sight, his brain taking a moment to engage.

Jay sat in the leather chair and propped his feet on Ben’s desk. “Whatever it is, get over it. Because I have the best news you’ve ever heard in your life.”

“Oh really? Do you even care that Dad is worried sick about you? He’s hired a PI, been driving over the entire state of Arizona looking for you.”

“He’s not worried anymore. I called him on my way here.” Jay rubbed his hands together, a gold ring shining on his left hand. “Come on. Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“Are you high? You got married?”

“Yeah.” Jay twirled the ring on his hand. “Last week. Isn’t it great? We thought about calling you and Jillian and having you fly in, but we still didn’t know about the babies, so we just did it ourselves. I’m sorry about that. But now that we’re back and it’s all good, Lolita wants to have a big party. So you’ll stand up with me then.”

Ben squeezed his eyes shut, trying to piece together the words that tumbled out of his brother’s mouth. When he opened his eyes, they threatened to bug out of his head.

“What did you say?”

“That’s the news you’re gonna love. Babies. Two of them. Isn’t it great?”

“You and Angela are having twins? Since when?”

“That’s why she was so hell bent on talking to me, and why she was crying. She’s like a faucet right now. It’s weird. When they were doing the ultrasound, she just couldn’t stop. She even got me going for a minute.”

“Hold on, you disappeared for three weeks to get married and have an ultrasound?”

“No, we wanted to lay low until we knew the babies were okay. Jillian didn’t tell you?”

“I haven’t talked to her since she left.” And he still couldn’t bring himself to say her name out loud. He heard it often enough when he slept. In every dream he was chasing her, trying to catch her before she jumped off a cliff.

“What? Why?” Jay dropped his feet to the floor with a thud.

“Don’t you turn this around.”

“Fine, but we’ll come back to it.” Jay leaned back in his chair. “One of the tests her doctor gave her came back that there might be some problems with the baby. That’s why she wanted to talk to me.”

“Why didn’t Angela tell me she was pregnant? That would have changed everything.”

Jay’s right leg plopped back on the desk. Even covered in jeans it looked shrunken. The disability constantly wedged between them.

Ben schooled his gaze on Jay’s face. He’d never accepted that as an excuse before—not for the attitude, addiction to pain medication, inferiority complex—and he wasn’t going to start now. Not even if Jillian’s explanations about addiction had him softening his stance about Jay’s ability to control his problems without help.

“She didn’t tell you because I’m an ass, and hearing she was pregnant from you would have set me off. I probably would have stayed away and let you take care of the whole thing. She didn’t want me to find out that way, with you chastising me and me hating myself.”

“That’s not what would have happened.”

“I’ve had a hell of a lot of therapy, little brother.” Jay laughed and shook his head. “Enough to know that in a crisis, we would have reverted to our old patterns. But that doesn’t matter.”

He waved his hand through the air, dismissing the past. “When she confessed about the pregnancy, Jillian told her where to find me. And when she did, and she explained how scared she was, I knew it was my turn to be strong for her for a change.

“We drove home and talked, really talked. Stopped in Vegas and got married along the way. We didn’t want to tell anyone in case it wasn’t going to work out, with the baby.

“We’ve been staying up in Newport, where she’d been going for her doctor’s appointments so no one here would know she was pregnant. Once the doctor did the ultrasound we found out it was two babies and that was probably what caused the results to be off on the first test. But we wanted to wait until we got the amnio results back before we told everybody.

“They’re perfect Ben.” Jay blinked furiously, his eyes suddenly glassy. “Even their feet are fine.”

“Wow.” Ben shut the lid on his laptop and leaned back in his chair, his heart heavy. Angela had been holding in so much, and he could have helped her if he’d read between the lines. Why did life have to always be such a struggle for Jay? He couldn’t even have a baby without worrying his child would have a deformity like his. One that meant taking pain pills just so he could walk. Ben blinked. What if pain pills were Jay’s sugar?

“Congratulations, times three. Are you going to be okay with all this pressure, responsibility?”

“There are counselors everywhere. Everything happens for a reason. Like these babies. We weren’t trying, but here they are, reminding us of what really matters. Sure, she might have a better life with someone else, but she wants a life with me. So I need to work on being that guy, the guy who deserves to be this happy, this blessed.”

“You deserve it, Jay.”

“So do you, man. We thought Jillian would tell you after she knew we were together. Why haven’t you talked with her?”

Ben swallowed hard. “Because she told Angela where to find you.”

“She didn’t explain?”

“She didn’t say a word. Just went on back to her life.” His head began to ache. He hadn’t even considered that Jillian might have a reason to break his trust. Still, she should have warned him she’d told Angela where to find Jay. Should have trusted him enough to explain why.

“And you haven’t called her?”

“Look, I’ve been busy fending off these damned news people.” Ben shifted in his seat, his temperature rising. “She hasn’t bothered to call me either.”

“Don’t blame your bullheadedness on the toads. Both the lodge and Crosslands have been booked solid since the news broke.”

Ben arched his eyebrow. “You’ve been monitoring the business, but you couldn’t tell Dad where you were?”

Jay ignored the taunt. “So call her now.”

“Why? She didn’t even tell me that she’d told Angela. She didn’t mention it at all.”

“Maybe she asked Jillian not to say anything.”

“Her loyalty to Angela doesn’t make up for betraying me.” Ben curled his toes inside his shoes. He did not want to talk about this another minute. What he really needed was a good run.

“You’re going to let her get away again?” Jay began laughing under his breath. “So what, you two gonna get horizontal every couple of years until one of you goes nuts?”

“You are so crass.”

“Yeah well, she came and found you once. If you don’t call her, I doubt she’ll do it again.”

* * *

Her luck ran out, just as she had. Jillian’s forced sabbatical coincided with her apartment building being closed so it could be renovated into high-end condominiums. She’d tried to convince her roommates to stick together and find another place, but they all took the opportunity to move in with their boyfriends or get a place of their own.

Jillian stared out her window for the last time. There was no way to justify paying rent in New York if she didn’t have to stay in the city. And after all, she could work on her novel, whatever it turned out to be about, from anywhere.

With a sigh, she turned around and surveyed the bare room. As the one without a job, she’d offered to stay today as movers came to take everyone’s things. Her few boxes were last, just waiting for the shipping company to take them away.

Jillian stepped closer to the pile, running her hand along the cardboard, circling the label. It would be nice to be back in Oregon. And Susie had seemed so excited that they’d both be starting new chapters of their lives together. Maybe even in a new town. Susie was selling her house to hasten the divorce, so neither had ties anywhere.

Inside the boxes were what little she decided she’d need for her new life. The comfortable clothes, wearable shoes, all the sex manuals she’d bought, trying to make herself enjoy sex. She huffed her breath. Great sex alone wasn’t enough to hold a man. You could even make sure he knew you loved him. But you can’t make someone love you if they don’t.

Just like she could never conjure up feelings for her ex, Ben must not feel anything for her beyond the physical. Really, he’d done her a favor in never calling. A clean break should make it easier to heal.

But it wasn’t. Nearly a month later and she still couldn’t keep him out of her dreams, or her waking mind for very long.

She checked her watch. The shipping company had ten minutes left in the pick-up window they’d given her. She dragged her carry-on suitcase to the door and set her purse on top.

Digging inside, she checked her plane ticket one last time. So strange to have a one-way ticket to Oregon. Sliding it back into her bag, her knuckles brushed against the long box nestled deep inside. Jillian winced, still unsure what to do with it.

She couldn’t keep Ben’s gift. She certainly couldn’t wear it. Even if she happened to bump into him some day, she’d need to keep her guard up. She couldn’t live through his rejection again. Her eyes closed against the hurt, trying to recall the good. It had felt so good to wear it that day. A sense of acceptance, belonging like she’d never known.

Sure, it hadn’t been real, but maybe if she’d tried harder. Maybe if she’d never left. Maybe if she’d called him as soon as she got back, instead of waiting and realizing he was never going to call. She’d come up with so many maybes, so many should-haves, she could write a book. If she did she’d have control, force a happy ending.

Jillian was thankful when the knock finally came at the door. Sitting here alone was just making her wallow and she was done with self-pity. She walked to the door, and looked through the peephole out of habit. Her heart stopped dead.

Jilly’s fingers fumbled on each of the four locks as she struggled to open the door. Ben was here. Here. In New York. If he’d come a week later he might have missed her and she’d never have known.

She didn’t really care why he was there. Just that he was. She’d been so wrong to leave when she had, the way she had. To go without telling him she wanted to stay.

Finally freeing the door, she threw it open wide. His eyes locked on her, a predatory gaze conveying a promise she prayed she understood.

“Ben, what are you doing here?”

“You forgot something.” He held his hand open, two black pearl earrings lying on his palm.

Her luck was back, and right in front of her.

“Yes, I did. I forgot to tell you I wanted to stay.” She pulled her lip between her teeth, watching his reaction intently. “You promised to call.”

“You said I could trust you.”

Her stomach churned. He must not have come for her, but to confront her about Jay. “I planned on explaining before I left, but you were too busy. And then you never called.”

He shook his head. “Jay’s fine. You did the right thing, telling Angela. You should have told me you did.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Just give me a reason not to call?”

Her eyes widened at the accusation.

“I can’t trust you if you don’t trust me to know my own feelings. I said I wanted to be with you, and you didn’t believe me.”

The truth hurt. She’d been so scared of her own feelings, of falling for the same lines that trapped her mother and sister with false promises, she hadn’t trusted him to mean what he promised.

“Where are you going?”

Jillian followed Ben’s gaze around the apartment, empty except for her boxes and couch. “Home. I’m on sabbatical from the magazine.”

Ben smiled broadly. “I’m glad. I’d like to give us another try, see if we can learn to trust each other.”

“I’d like that too.” She stepped to him, a slow sway to her hips. Life was handing her a third chance with Ben Cannon, and nothing, not even her own fears, would stand in her way this time.

He wrapped her up in his arms, whispering words against her throat that turned into kisses on their journey to her lips.

* * *