The sun had dropped below the rolling hills of the Sonoma Valley hours before, leaving only the trickle of moonlight above and the beams from Tessa’s car to guide her down the familiar bumpy road that, in her aging jalopy of a car, threatened the car’s entire structure with every bounce and dip.

Up ahead, she could make out the outline of her family’s farmhouse, the front porch lights flipped on even though everyone who still called the place home was back at the hospital. It made the place seem eerily quiet, particularly for a Tuesday in October, one of the busiest months of the year for the harvest. But as her brother had assured her, the Chardonnay and Pinot Noir grapes had already been harvested, and the Cabernet could still be weeks from their peak, leaving only the Montenegro farm’s apples for harvesting.

Tessa parked the car and sat for a moment as tears of terror and relief slipped down her face. She’d kept them at bay since the moment she first received her brother’s call saying that their dad had been in an accident while working on the farm and had been rushed to the hospital, keeping her cool as she threw some things together and drove from San Francisco to the hospital in Sonoma. She’d stayed calm and level-headed as she greeted her brothers, met the doctor and nurses, and then delicately hugged her dad, who, although bruised and sore and scheduled for hip surgery in the morning, was in relatively good spirits. It was only now, safe under the shadow of her childhood home, that she gave in to the emotions that had been tearing at her.

At least he was going to be okay. A bit banged up, but with rest and time to heal, he’d survive. She hadn’t lost him.

Wiping her tears away, Tessa Montenegro took a deep, restoring breath before grabbing her bag off the seat and getting out of the car. She made her way to the back entrance to the house, taking a moment to breathe in the sweet aroma of apples that lingered in the chilly air. Someone had left the light on over the large kitchen island, basking the room in a soft light, and she looked around the room that held some of her best memories. Tessa’s mom showing her how to roll the dough for the Christmas sugar cookies as Tessa slipped bites of the sweet dough into her mouth. Tessa making her first batch of cinnamon rolls with dubious success even as her brothers scarfed them all down with no complaints. The entire family gathering around the large farmhouse table to celebrate every birthday, Thanksgiving dinner, and Christmas breakfast. This place centered her. It didn’t just represent her childhood. It represented everything that made life worth living. Love. Happiness. Laughter. Family.

Heading to the stove, Tessa picked up the kettle and filled it with water before placing it on the burner to boil. Grabbing her suitcase again, she headed to her room, needing to get into something more comfortable than the skirt and heels she’d put on when she first headed to work this morning. She’d been reviewing pages of real estate contracts for a large project she was assigned to when her brother Finn had reached her. She’d barely had time to stop at home to throw some clothes into a bag before getting on the road to reach her dad.

The floorboards creaked under her steps in the usual pattern as she headed upstairs and down the hallway to her room. Flipping on the light, she kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag on the bed before unbuttoning her shirt and tossing it on the back of the chair where she’d spent hours upon hours reading growing up. Her skirt came next, tossed on top of the shirt since she was too weary to bother with hanging either of them. She was digging out her yoga pants and favorite tee shirt when a creak from the hallway stopped her.

She paused and listened, half convinced she’d made up the sound since this was Blossom Falls. Nothing remotely criminal ever happened here. But, sure enough, the creaking was persistent as it reached her bedroom door.

Tessa scanned the dark room, trying to figure out her next move. Her trophy for Best in Sportsmanship from summer camp when she was twelve could be a weapon if she thwacked someone hard enough. Or maybe she should just throw herself under the bed and wait the prowler out? But surely he or she already knew she was home…

She was still standing there trying to decide when a very solid, very manly form filled the doorframe, and she couldn’t stop the yelp that ripped from her throat, even as she tried to process what she was seeing. Or rather, who she was seeing. Because the person standing in front of her was the last person she’d expected to see darkening the doorframe of her bedroom ever again.

Dylan Jamison. Who, from the easy grin that broke across that still-too-handsome face, wasn’t as surprised to see her as she was him. Her heart lurched in her chest, an unfair reaction considering the fear he’d put in her moments before.

“Why, Tessa Montenegro. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawled in that lazy southern accent that he only pulled out when he was trying to sweet-talk some girl into something she knew better than to consider. An accent he’d picked up having spent the first twelve years of his life living somewhere south of Birmingham, Alabama, before coming to live with his aunt here in Blossom Falls, a sleepy little farming town in Sonoma, California. His gaze dropped and that grin of his grew even wider.

Holy Josephine.

Her own eyes widened as she remembered her current state of undress and she whipped her hands up in a valiant attempt to cover herself. She frantically searched the room for something to put between herself and those brown eyes that sparkled with a little more than friendly familiarity. She spotted her quilt folded neatly on the edge of the bed and attempted to whirl it around herself. Unfortunately, it took her three tries to successfully bring it around her, leaving her all too aware of his unflinching stare and too-amused smile.

“What on earth are you even doing here?” she asked.

He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest, making it impossible for her to miss the biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt. Dang. Her guess that his appearance on the cover of his last album had been heavily airbrushed had obviously been wrong. “I had some downtime and Finn invited me to stay for a while. I take it no one mentioned this to you before?”

She was going to kill her brother. How could he go and invite Dylan Jamison to stay here without even telling her? Of course, Finn would have no idea of the feelings she’d once held toward his best friend, or of the one and only kiss they’d shared that had eclipsed anything she could have ever hoped for—just before he left her without a word to seek whatever fame and fortune awaited him.

And why did he have to have that smug smile on his face, as if he could still see her through the fabric of the quilt even though she was almost certain he could not. She lifted her chin a notch, hoping she sounded less vulnerable and shaken than she felt. “No. My brother most definitely did not mention you. How long are you staying? The weekend?”

“A little longer than that. We’re working together on a business proposition.”

“A business proposition? With Finn?”

A loud, shrilling whistle from downstairs reminded her that she had put the kettle on. Her initial impulse was to race down the stairs to stop the piercing sound, but the fact she was still undressed under the blanket kept her frozen in place.

Dylan seemed to be aware of the same thing as his eyes glimmered dangerously at her. “You want to go get that?

Instead of responding, she kept her eyes steady on his as the whistling grew more piercing. She’d grown up with five rough-and-tumble brothers who could easily out-race and out-tackle her if they’d wanted to during a squabble. Which was why she’d perfected the subtle art of staring. She could stare the best of them down into complying with her wishes.

Ten seconds.

What? Had he gotten too cheap to pick up a razor in the past week?

Twenty seconds.

He certainly hadn’t gotten too cheap to let go of his gym membership if the hard, rippled muscles outlined in that tee shirt were any indication.

Thirty seconds.

“Fine,” Dylan said, and sighed. “I’ll get it. See you downstairs.”

He stepped back, keeping eye contact with her until he reached the hall, finally turning away. Tessa rested her hand over her heart to try and stop the annoying hammering.

Ten years. It had been ten years since Dylan Jamison crushed her when he walked away from her and everything she tried to offer him. She’d been devastated at the time, especially on the heels of her mom’s death, and she’d barely made it out of the dark, sucking depression that had clouded her world at the time. She’d vowed to leave all her childish dreams and fantasies behind her from that moment on.

When she reached the university where she’d once envisioned majoring in art a month later, she switched gears completely and turned her eyes on something more practical and sustaining—law. After all, she’d been pretty good at it when she’d worked part-time at Jasper’s law office during high school, moving up from simple filing and receptionist duties to actually helping him draft motions and various contracts.

It hadn’t been easy over the years, putting Dylan Jamison out of her mind and her heart, especially after his first album went platinum and his face started appearing on the pages of the popular magazines that lined the expressway of her local supermarket or those unpredictable moments when his voice could catch her unaware sitting in traffic playing across the airwaves of her car radio.

She supposed it was inevitable that they’d come face-to-face again. He was still friends with Finn and the rest of her brothers, and his aunt Daphne helped oversee the operation of the family farm. Fortunately, his busy touring schedule prevented him from getting home very often over the years, and with school and then work as her usual escape, she’d been able to time her visits to avoid him. But their inevitable meeting again was supposed to be on her terms. It wasn’t supposed to occur when she was feeling so emotionally vulnerable and especially not when she was standing practically naked in front of him.

It’s only for the night. One night, Tessa. You got this.

After tonight, she could go on pretending Dylan Jamison didn’t exist.

She dropped the blanket and dug more furiously through the suitcase until she found what she needed and pulled the clothes on.

He was not going to dictate her emotions again. She would not let him. She was in control of her emotions.

And if all else failed, she could pretend with the best of them.

Dylan grabbed the kettle from the burner and the shrill whistling decreased to a loud hiss, giving him an opportunity to organize his thoughts.

He’d known that accepting Finn’s invitation to come to the farm for a few weeks could potentially bring him face-to-face with the youngest of the Montenegro brood. But the offer of solace and a possible business prospect to distract him from his personal woes had been too tempting to resist. He’d been on his way back from LA after meeting with his agent when his aunt texted him about Joe Montenegro’s accident earlier. She assured him that Joe would be fine but would need hip surgery in the morning, so Dylan decided not to foist himself on Tessa and had returned to the farm.

He’d heard her come up the stairs and head past his room, her quiet footsteps unmistakable compared to the sturdier footfalls of her brothers, and he had debated whether or not to give her some space and wait until morning to say hello. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he’d slipped down the hall, telling himself his interest was more in finding out firsthand the health of Joe Montenegro and less about seeing Tessa after all these years.

In all the years he’d known Tessa, he had treated her like Finn’s sometimes pesky, sometimes endearing, headstrong younger sister, one he could tease and cajole mercilessly. For the most part. At least until that fateful Christmas he’d returned home from college and had been stunned to see the youngest Montenegro had grown up and become a beautiful, headstrong young woman who made him think of things that would have been shocking before. He’d been sure to stay clear of her ever since, up until that day he heard word that Tessa’s mom had died and he returned home to pay his respects. For two weeks, they’d reached a new level of their friendship, one where he stopped treating her like Finn’s younger sister and treated her like a friend. A friend who he’d tried not to think about kissing.

So when they’d had that one moment out by the pond, a moment he cursed himself for later as his taking advantage of a vulnerable young girl, one who he could never have a future with for obvious reasons, he’d realized he was in dangerous territory and he needed to get away immediately for both their sakes.

He hadn’t seen her since.

A flash of smooth white skin, a thin waist curving to full hips covered in polka dot panties, and a lacy bra with pink bows filled his brain and he stopped.

So maybe trying to scare the crap out of her hadn’t gone exactly as he’d planned.

He remembered the cold fury that filled her pretty green eyes as her face flushed red. It was clear she hadn’t forgotten his abandonment all those years before, something he couldn’t fault her for. But he’d done what he had to do to make sure that she got over him and moved on, that she didn’t hold on to some childish crush that would keep her from reaching everything she was meant to achieve in her life. He wouldn’t be the reason for holding anyone back. He wasn’t like his old man. And from all accounts, he’d been right to do what he had. Tessa had gone on to be a success, working at some fancy law firm in the city and definitely heading up in the world.

A rustling behind him told him that she’d arrived, and he turned to see her cross the kitchen floor in loose-fitting yoga pants and an oversized white tee shirt that hung past her hips. No doubt an attempt at hiding any glimpse of the soft curves he’d caught before, something he thought with both disappointment and relief.

The silence stretched out awkwardly, and he found himself needing to fill it, to get back somehow to their former friendship. “So how’s your dad doing? I was going to stop by earlier, but I figured there’d be enough comings and goings I didn’t need to add one more body to the mix.”

“The hip will need surgery first thing in the morning, and he sprained his wrist when he caught himself, but overall he’s in good shape,” Tessa said and headed to the cabinet, where she pushed things aside until she found a familiar blue mug that she set on the counter and dropped a tea bag into. “The recuperation is going to be the killer, since once he’s released from the hospital, he’s going to be completely reliant on everyone else to help him. Aidan and Liam have already offered to chip in to help cover the cost of a home care nurse above what his insurance would provide, so that’s a huge relief,” she said, referencing two of the five Montenegro brothers who lived out of state and couldn’t make it home.

“He’s definitely going to hate that.”

She walked over to the other side of the island and slid onto a barstool. “Undoubtedly.”

She’d cut her hair, he realized, watching as she tried to tuck a strand of it behind her ear only to have it spring back into place. Instead of thick waves that fell down her back, it now barely brushed the bottom of her jawline, making her appear more gamine, more mischievous, but just as pretty. After another attempt to tuck the hair away, she blew it from her face, satisfied when it seemed to stay away even if temporarily. “You mentioned something about a business proposition with Finn? What’s that about?”

He looked away, needing to keep his focus. “Well, you know how traditional the guy is, always has been. He hated when he was outvoted a few years ago and half the orchards were torn out to make way for the grapevines.”

She nodded. “We all hated to do it, but with Aidan and Liam both gone and Finn in school, Dad needed to cut expenses and bring in more income. And grapes have become the highest-yielding cash crop in recent years.”

“Which is why he’s been so determined to find a way to make the orchards just as viable. I think he’s onto something.” He grabbed a brown, unmarked bottle from the fridge and set it down in front of her. “Look familiar?”

“I’m guessing it’s a bottle of our cider.”

He nodded. Ever since Dylan could remember, the Montenegros had brewed small batches of hard cider from the harvested apples. It had been a tradition since Emilio Montenegro, Tessa’s grandfather, had first arrived in California from Portugal and bought the farm and the orchards for his own family. Of course, Dylan and Finn weren’t legally old enough to sample the stuff at most of the Thanksgivings, but they’d still managed to sneak in a few sips when they thought no one was looking.

“Finn’s gotten it in his head that with the resurgence of hard cider of late, why shouldn’t Montenegro Farms take a shot at making it marketable?” He grabbed a couple of glasses and poured them each a small amount. “He’s been tinkering around with a few recipes and a couple months ago pulled me into it.”

“But why would this involve you?” she asked, lifting the glass and taking a sniff. Her fingernails, he noted, were still chewed down to the quick, a habit that it looked like she hadn’t been able to break, which for some reason reassured him that some things did remain the same. “You’re not a farmer. You probably don’t even know the difference between a Gravenstein and a Cortland.”

“Probably not, but if he’s going to make a real go of this, he needs an infusion of cash to buy the equipment, the supplies, and the manpower the business is going to need. In short, he needs an investor.”

“Surely you don’t have to be here for that. Can’t you just write a check?”

“Sure. I could. But that’s not what this is about. It’s a partnership. I’m going to give him not just my money but my name recognition.” Tessa didn’t need to know that, right now, Dylan desperately needed something to distract himself with, and getting this business off the ground was going to provide that. But it was more than just that. He believed in this product and his friend, and he wanted to do whatever he could to help make this venture a success. “Rocking Blues Cider. That’s the name of our new venture if you’re curious. Go ahead. Try it,” he said and nodded to her glass.

Cautiously, she took a sip. “Pretty good. It’s familiar, but also different than the usual harvest cider.” She took another taste. “All right, so it sounds like an interesting business venture. But why do you have to be here? Can’t you consult and write checks from LA?”

“Let’s just say that I needed a little downtime from my life. A break, even temporary.” There was also the added benefit that Blossom Falls was only a twenty-minute drive from Santa Rosa, the city where Elle Jamison lived with her mom. But that was more information than he was about to go into right now, at least until he heard back on the blood tests that would confirm the truth of Elle’s paternity.

“Does this have something to do with recent rumors that you and Roxie Mann have split?” she asked him slyly.

He studied her curiously, wondering just how much of his life she’d followed over the years. The good and bad. “You know, you shouldn’t believe half of what’s printed about me.”

She looked appalled. “Please. I don’t read any of it. It just so happens that my roommates, Anna and Quinn, are huge fans, and after you made an appearance at Anna’s sister’s wedding this summer, she’s been more obsessed. She must have mentioned the breakup.”

“Sure,” he teased, making it clear he didn’t believe her.

“Good to see some things haven’t changed over the years,” she said, rolling her eyes even if the flood of pink in her cheeks told a different story. “Still as full of yourself as ever. How do you walk and not trip over that ego of yours?”

“Lots of practice.”

Her lips twitched and he was certain she was fighting back a smile as her green eyes sparkled back at him. She’d always had a great smile, and it struck him how much he wanted to see it now. See she was happy.

“How does my dad feel about this business venture?” she asked, fortunately unaware of his thoughts.

“He’s as excited as Finn to see the orchards become viable again.” He turned and put the cider back in the fridge.

“Well, good for Finn. I hope this all turns out. Now”—she slipped off the barstool—“I think I’m going to head to bed. I want to get to the hospital early enough to see Dad off before surgery.”

“Tessa,” he said, waiting until she met his gaze again. “If my being here makes you uncomfortable, I can always find somewhere else to stay. I know that what happened the last time I saw you—”

“Please. Don’t worry yourself about that. It was just a kiss. It meant nothing.”

Ouch. It sure as hell had meant something to him, which was why he’d realized even then he had to get away. But he wasn’t about to admit that, especially in light of her stated feelings on the subject. “Okay. I’m glad to hear that,” he lied. “But I can find somewhere else to stay all the same.”

“Like I said, I’m over it all. You’re free to stay as long as you need.” She picked up her dishes and took them to the sink. “Besides, if everything goes according to schedule tomorrow, I’ll be back in the city by dinner.”

He nodded, wanting to say something about how her family would love it if she stuck around a little longer, but realizing it wasn’t his place.

“Good night, Dylan. And if I don’t see you before I leave, I wish you and Finn luck on this new venture,” she said ever so politely, like they were bare acquaintances saying farewell. Not like someone who, once upon a time, had kissed him with such hope and promise that he’d been questioning his entire future without her in it.

He listened to Tessa make her way up the stairs and to her room, the sound of her shutting door echoing in the silence of the house.

And to think he’d been worried about this confrontation all this time, and for what? She was obviously completely and totally over him.

Which was a good thing, right?