Tessa was back at the kitchen table by ten the next morning, her laptop on the table in front of her. Her dad was out in the barn keeping Finn company as he worked on the cider, leaving the house to her for a little while. She’d slept in again this morning, something that she was starting to enjoy, just like the relaxing cup of tea she’d had with her toast as she read the news from her phone instead of racing into work.

Dylan was already gone, off doing who knew what. Not that she cared. He was free to do whatever he wanted. Preferably far away from her.

She opened her email and got to work on the avalanche of emails she expected to have arrived since yesterday.

Hmm. Not nearly as many as she feared. Most of the messages she could easily respond to, but there were a few that she kept so she could respond more in depth. Busy work. That’s what it was, nothing inspiring or exciting, just stuff that had to get done. Vacation or no.

She started to notice a trend in the emails as she got further in. Some of the earlier ones that she’d typed a quick reply to had already been answered by other associates at the firm. Questions sent to her began to be answered by others. It was a pointed reminder that she was but one cog in the wheel of the big machinery of a large law firm.

Nothing she did was particularly unique, and if she didn’t get to it in the quick, timely fashion the firm expected, the request went to someone else with the same knowledge, same skill, same pay grade. Ultimately, she and her work were replaceable.

It was kind of…depressing.

Without guilt, she closed her email and opened up a fresh search page. She might as well make use of her time and see what she could do to help Claudia with her situation. It also helped to serve as a distraction from certain memories involving one Dylan Jamison and the fire in his eyes as he’d stared at her last night. She wasn’t very successful on either score, unfortunately.

Don’t be stupid, Tessa. How many other mornings had she spent growing up at this very table all moony-eyed and hopelessly lost in thoughts about Dylan Jamison? It hadn’t done her any good then, and it certainly wouldn’t do her any good now. It was wasted energy.

And yet, there was no denying that, whenever she got around the guy, she forgot the years of hurt and disappointment her infatuation had cost her, and she was living in the moment, awash with a stupid glow of contentment at having his attention, no matter how short.

There was a creaking outside the kitchen door, and Tessa sat up higher to peer out the window. But she didn’t see anything.

Probably a rabbit or gopher or something.

A second later, the creaking returned, only this time there was a hesitant knock on the back door.

Getting up from her seat, Tessa headed to the door, curious who would be coming out here for a visit before noon as she opened it.

A young girl with red hair pulled into a straggly ponytail stood before her. It seemed late in the season for Girl Scout cookies. “Hi. Can I help you?”

The girl kicked her shoe at the ground and peered up. “Um. Yeah. I was trying to see if Dylan was here.”

Tessa studied the girl, who couldn’t be older than thirteen, trying to see if she recognized her or who she belonged to. But she’d spent far too many years away from the town to accurately predict her familial roots, even with the bright red of the girl’s hair and the freckles sprinkled across her cherubic face.

Tess would venture a guess that she was a diehard fan of Dylan Charles trying to get a moment with the rock star. “Dylan isn’t here right now, but…” Tessa paused when she heard a car engine and looked up to see a small sedan turning around and heading back down the road to the highway, leaving the girl behind. “Wait. Is that your ride? Because I’m not sure how long it will be until he’s back, so you might want to call them back.”

“No. It’s okay. It’s just an Uber. Can I wait for him here?”

Wait for Dylan here? The last thing Tessa wanted to do was babysit a young fan who was waiting for Dylan. “Um, the thing is, I don’t know how long he’ll be. For all I know, he won’t be back until tonight. Is there someone you can call to pick you up?”

The girl looked guilty as she glanced side to side. “No.”

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Tessa asked, a low level of panic beginning to fester as she tried to figure out what she was going to do with the girl. It had been some time since she’d been around an adolescent girl, probably since she’d been one.

“Elle.”

“Okay, Elle. Maybe I can call your mom or dad and have them come get you. Do they live in town?” Another headshake. “Where are you from?”

“Santa Rosa.”

Santa Rosa? “That’s quite a trip for a young girl all by herself.”

“I’ll be thirteen in two months,” she said, sounding offended at the accusation of being young.

Right. First thing to remember was that preteens were sensitive about being considered young. “How did you know Dylan was staying here?”

As if bored with the conversation, the girl looked around. “I wrote the address down from the papers he left with my mom.”

Papers? Hmm. Maybe this wasn’t simply a matter of a young fan stalking her hero. Why would Dylan deliver papers to her mom? Now Tessa was beyond curious. And she couldn’t leave the girl outside forever while she figured it out. “Come on in and have a seat. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you something?”

“Nah. I’m good. I brought some Pop-Tarts in my bag,” she said and tilted her head in the direction of her purple backpack, slung over one shoulder. She shuffled in, and Tessa shut the doors before following her over to the counter.

“Go ahead and hop up,” Tessa said, pointing to the barstools.

Without argument, Elle climbed up. “So who are you? Dylan’s girlfriend?”

Tessa nearly choked. No one had ever accused her of being that. “No, definitely not. Just a former neighbor. He’s actually best friends with my brother, Finn. We all kind of grew up together.” Why was she babbling like this? The girl didn’t need to know all these details. She cleared her throat. “What kind of papers did Dylan drop off with your mom?”

“She doesn’t know I saw them, but I heard her talking about them last night on the phone to my Aunt Tristan. I guess he saw the test results and decided he wanted to give me and my mom some money.”

Test results? It felt like someone had punched her in the gut. Was this girl…Dylan’s? “You mentioned you were twelve, is that right?”

“Only for two more months.”

That would mean Elle would have had to have been conceived just over thirteen years ago, back when Dylan was about…nineteen. His first year of college. Her hands shook as she grabbed a couple Dr. Peppers from the fridge, sliding one across the counter to her guest before popping open the other and talking a careful sip.

Tessa studied her more closely. The arc of freckles that fell cheek to cheek and the crooked front teeth were less familiar to Tessa, but the light brown eyes with specks of gold were familiar. As was that bravado.

Was this why Dylan was here? Because he’d found out he was…a dad?

Her knees were going to give out on her soon. After coming around the island, she slipped onto a barstool.

“I knew all along what the tests were going to say. I even tried to tell him when I went to see him at his concert, but he didn’t want to believe me. I guess the test results did what I couldn’t. So now he’s all feeling guilty and wants to unload a lot of money on us, which has really ticked my mom off.”

“Oh, sure. Sure,” Tessa said and took another fortifying drink. Who was this woman? Had Dylan loved her? “It must have come as a shock for him to find out he had a daughter all this time.”

“Daughter?” Elle asked and turned to stare at her like Tessa had grown another head. “Ew. Dylan isn’t my dad. He’s my brother.”

Tessa blinked. Brother?

The relief that hit her was intense and she felt almost dizzy.

Dylan didn’t have a kid out there—at least as far as they all knew. But he did have a sister.

That it mattered to Tessa that Dylan wasn’t a dad was crazy. He could do what he wanted with who he wanted. And yet it did matter. For whatever reason.

It made sense now. Why Dylan might have taken some time off and come out here to the farm. Especially since Santa Rosa was only twenty minutes away.

Maybe the blood test results hadn’t been that much of a surprise. Come to think of it, he had been a bit mellow after his visit with Jasper yesterday. That was probably the business he’d had to attend to.

“So Dylan sent you and your mom money and now she’s mad,” Tessa said, recounting the conversation now in a different light. “And you’re here because…”

“I dunno,” Elle said and slurped her soda. “I was kinda hoping that maybe he might want to, you know…hang out. Get to know me. Do what brothers and sisters do together. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Five brothers. No sisters, though.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “Five brothers? You’re so lucky. I bet you got to do all sorts of things together.”

“We had our moments.” Tessa thought about the Uber driver who’d dropped the girl off. “I’m guessing that your mom doesn’t know you’re here.”

Elle glanced up at her, the guilt in those light brown eyes telling Tessa the answer.

“Don’t you think she’s going to be upset with you when she finds out you came all the way out here without telling her?” Tessa asked.

“Maybe. But I knew if I asked, she would never let me come, and I really wanted to see Dylan. Besides, she thinks I’m at school,” she whispered in a tone that seemed to indicate that the depth of her deception was starting to hit her—and the amount of trouble she was going to be in.

The girl was certainly brave, coming out here on her own. Brave and curious and determined, just like her brother, but also diving headfirst into trouble without thinking of the consequences.

She felt some sympathy for the girl’s plight, could even understand why she’d done what she did in coming here. The least Tessa could do was make sure Elle had the opportunity to see the person who was the entire reason she was here since she’d probably be grounded forever.

“Let me text Dylan. He left pretty early this morning, so I’m not sure where he is right now. You’re welcome to hang out with me until he gets here if you want. But in the meantime, let’s call your mom and let her know you’re here. The phone is over there,” she said, pointing to the aging wireless receiver over on the counter that her dad refused to upgrade.

Elle’s shoulders noticeably sagged. “It’s okay. I have my own cell phone.” She hopped down and dug in her backpack until she found the phone, an older, basic model, but it would do the job.

Tessa listened as the girl called, her voice wavering as she spoke, growing quiet as her mom reamed into her, something that Tessa could hear bits and pieces of from her seat next to Elle. After another minute, Elle held the phone out to her. “My mom wants to talk to you.”

Even though she wasn’t in trouble, Tessa felt a tremor of anxiety as she answered. “Hi, this is Tessa.”

“Yes. Hi. This is Lana, Elle’s mom. I’m just— I’m at a loss here. I don’t know what she was thinking. I’d come out there right now and get her if I didn’t think I’d lose my job.”

“Please, she’s perfectly welcome to stay here with me. Like I told her, Dylan isn’t here but I’ve texted him, so hopefully I should hear from him soon.”

The woman didn’t say anything immediately, and the seconds beat by before she spoke again. “Actually, he was here earlier. At the diner.” She sighed, and Tessa imagined a woman torn between her responsibilities to her daughter and her job, knowing ultimately that, as long as her daughter was safe, it was best to protect her primary means of support. “I guess if you don’t mind her hanging around, I’m okay with it. Well, I’m as okay with it as I can be under the circumstances. Can you have Dylan call me, however, when he gets there?”

“Of course. And let me give you our phone number here at the farm if you need to reach us directly.” She listed the number, and after more assurances that Elle wouldn’t be a bother, they ended the call.

Mission accomplished, she took Elle to the closet down the hall where twenty years’ worth of games had been stashed. Elle stood and stared at the stacks of boxes, her face alight with excitement.

“Wow. You own all these?” she asked, studying the titles before grabbing two.

Tessa suppressed a groan when she saw that one of her choices was Monopoly, the world’s longest and most tedious games ever—and she should know having played it for years with her brothers. The other game, Rummikub, wasn’t too bad. Just in case she couldn’t talk Elle into abandoning Monopoly, Tessa grabbed the deck of cards from a shelf and escorted the girl back to the kitchen.

They were starting their second game of Rummikub when the kitchen door opened and Dylan waltzed in.

“So who is this mysterious guest who I—” He stopped when he spotted Elle.

Tessa supposed she could have prepared him for his moment by telling him exactly who his young guest was, but since he hadn’t been exactly forthright with the fact he even had a sister and she’d nearly had a heart attack when she thought Elle was his daughter, Tessa figured she could stand to keep him in the dark for a few minutes.

“Elle. What are you— Wait. Please tell me that your mom knows you’re here?”

Elle studied her tiles and muttered, “She does now.”

“Don’t worry. We called and let her know she was here,” Tessa said. “I’ve assured her that Elle’s safe here with me and that you would call her when you arrived.”

He looked less than thrilled at the prospect of calling the mom, making her think today’s meeting that Lana had mentioned hadn’t gone very well. Dylan seemed to be thinking something over, his eyes on the floor as if processing. Another moment passed, and whatever he’d been wrestling with seemed to be decided as he walked over and took a chair between them.

“You know, we’re going to have to work out a few things. You can’t keep taking off like this, not just because your mom will kill us both, but because it’s not safe.” Something seemed to occur to him. “Shouldn’t you be in school right now?”

Seeming to sense that Dylan had accepted her presence and wasn’t mad, Elle’s demeanor noticeably relaxed as she pulled her tiles from the bag and counted them out. “Today’s a catch-up day for missing assignments and stuff, and since I’m already ahead, I would have just spent the day in the library anyhow.”

“Still, you should have called first. Found a day and time that worked for everyone and that wouldn’t have required you to skip school.”

Elle looked down, her attention on moving the tiles around on her board. “I was afraid you would say no. That you didn’t want to see me. Like before.”

Tessa met his gaze, both of them feeling the pain in the girl’s voice. She wanted to say something but knew that, right now, Dylan should have the floor.

“That’s fair. After the way I treated you in LA, I could see why you’d think that. I’m sorry for how abrupt I was,” Dylan continued. “You took me by surprise is all. By the next day, when I was thinking clearer, I did everything I could to find out what I could about you. In fact, I even paid a visit to your mom today to try and make things right.”

“You did?” she asked.

“Sure did. Because I think that you and I probably have a lot in common and I’d like to know everything I can about my newfound sister.”

The little girl glowed with pleasure at his words. “Does that mean I can hang out with you a little longer today? Maybe even stay for dinner?”

“Sorry, kid. But you know that what you did was wrong, and if I let you stay, I’d be rewarding that. Now, I’m going to give your mom a call and then I’m going to drive you back to Santa Rosa. By my estimate”—he glanced at his watch—“you could be back at school in time for lunch.”

“Really?” Elle asked, her face dropping in disappointment.

He met Tessa’s gaze again and she tilted her head, as if pleading with him to give Elle a little something,

“Okay. We’ll have lunch. But then you’re going back to school. And if you want to come and see me again, you’re going to do it the right way. By getting your mom’s and my clearance. Got it?”

Elle sighed. “O-kay.”

Wow. That was almost…mature. Tessa had to just take one look into those big brown eyes and she was ready to give the girl whatever she wanted, but Dylan was showing remarkable restraint and—

“Can we maybe play just one more game of Rummikub?”

He hesitated. “One more. Right after I call your mom.”

Okay. So it was a work in progress.

It was close to eight that night when Dylan rolled up again to the farmhouse. After dropping off Elle earlier this afternoon, he’d been somewhat embarrassed to face Tessa, and instead of facing her again and being subjected to her inevitable questions, he’d gone over to his aunt’s to discuss the situation.

But now he was ready.

Only walking into the house and chatting with Joe and Finn, he’d learned Tessa wasn’t there. And suddenly, having spent the afternoon and evening avoiding her, he realized how much he wanted to talk to her. Her car was outside, so his guess was she was somewhere in walking distance.

When he stepped outside, there was still a little bit of that hazy light that afforded him an inspection of the surrounding grounds. The vineyards that covered half of the Montenegros’ property and had been buzzing with frenetic energy just one week ago were strangely still and quiet, as were the orchards. No sign of Tessa to be found.

On a hunch, he made his way to the old holding pond, where, as kids, they’d all sneak away on hot summer nights for some fun and a little cooldown. And where once he’d been stupid enough to risk everything for one tiny kiss.

Sure enough, he found her sitting on the very same rock they’d sat on the night everything changed, staring pensively ahead.

“Wondered when you’d stop hiding from me,” she said suddenly, not taking her gaze from the water.

He came over and took a seat next to her, picking up some rocks as he did so, throwing the first to skim across the water. “Not hiding. More…processing.”

Tessa nodded, taking a rock from his hand and sending it across the water at least two feet farther than his. “She’s a great kid. Smart and independent and with a bit of a stubborn streak like someone else I know. I bet you were surprised when she showed up that first time?”

“You could say that. As you can tell, I didn’t handle myself that well with the bombshell, something I’m working to rectify.”

“Is she why you’re here? In Blossom Falls?”

He paused and glanced in her direction. The night was cooler, probably in the lower sixties, and, save for the black rubber boots on her feet, Tessa wasn’t dressed very well for it in those cutoffs and the teensy formfitting T-shirt that had her gripping her knees up to her chest for warmth. He felt that familiar sort of protectiveness rise in his chest when it came to her, and he slid closer, as if to offer her some of his own body heat. “In part. But even before she arrived, I was needing to get away. I doubt you would have heard, but my dad passed in July.”

She studied him, her brow furrowing. “I hadn’t heard. I’m sorry, Dylan.”

“No need. I’m not brokenhearted or anything. I’d written him off a long time ago,” he said more cavalierly than he felt. “But I was in a weird place when Elle arrived. She just pushed me the rest of the way here.”

Not that he’d known why at the time. He’d just known that the answers would be here. But the reason Blossom Falls was the answer was becoming clear.

This was home.

“Is that why I haven’t seen you pick up a guitar since I arrived here? You know”—she glanced over to him, her green eyes holding a trace of concern along with curiosity—“I remember a time when it used to never leave your side, all those long mornings and evenings when you would just sit and strum the strings because you couldn’t help it.”

He could remember that, too. The evenings most notably, sitting on the porch at his aunt’s house playing to the birds and sometimes Tessa Montenegro, who often found ways to be underfoot. She’d been his harshest critic but also his biggest fan.

“Do you remember the big bake sale you spearheaded to help out at the animal shelter that summer? You were probably not much older than Elle, and yet you managed to talk me into playing ‘Hound Dog’ and ‘Teddy Bear.’”

She laughed. “Thanks to Lilo and Stitch, I had a bit of an Elvis crush at the time. But to be fair, the songs were a big hit.”

“Yes, they were,” he said and chuckled. “It was actually my first paying gig. You gave me twenty dollars for my efforts.”

“A high sum indeed that you were smart enough to donate back to the shelter.”

“At threat of my life,” he said and nudged her.

“All for a good cause.”

True. As were all the missions she’d undertaken. He would have been fifteen years old at the time, and although the crowd was small, it had been the first time he’d actually performed outside of his lessons or for someone besides his aunt and the rest of the Montenegros.

It had lit the light in him, helped him realize the road he wanted to take, and sticking around the sleepy California town was never going to be it.

“You still haven’t answered my question. About playing,” she persisted, prodding him with her arm.

He scratched the back of his neck as he considered her question. “I’m sure the music will come to me with time.” At least he hoped so.

She stared at him like she wasn’t buying it, not that he could blame her, but saying it out loud sounded oddly true. “And what about you? What made you decide to pick up law of all things?”

“Maybe it was like that bake sale or the other fundraisers I’ve worked on over the years. Having a purpose, something to fight for, people—or animals—to help has always been fulfilling for me. Learning about the law seemed like the best way I could channel that energy and do some good, much like Jasper did.”

“And that’s what you’re doing now? Finding reward in helping people?”

She squirmed and looked away. “Well, not exactly. Not yet. I’ve only been out of law school for three years, and at a big law firm like mine, there’s a sort of dues that needs to be paid before you can stretch out into what you really want to do. So for now, it’s a lot of contract work, a lot of real estate finagling and little else.”

“You could go out on your own, though, right? Like Jasper?”

“Maybe. Someday.”

He wondered if he was overstepping the boundaries of their new friendship by his next question, but he was curious. “Does it make you happy, though? What you’re doing?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and sighed. “Does playing for the millions of devoted fans make you happy?”

He considered her question. “It did initially. Standing up there, the energy from the crowd surrounding me, the music flowing not just through my fingertips but from deep inside… It’s a buzz and you feel incredibly alive. There’s almost nothing quite like it. That carried me on for a while. Maybe too long, to be honest, as I did all the stupid, reckless things that people do when they get too popular too fast and have way too much money.”

“I heard,” she said, sounding somewhat disgruntled. “Like driving your new Ferrari into a fire hydrant when your passenger got a little too…affectionate?”

He grinned. That was putting it more mildly than he deserved. Even his agent had reamed him a new one, and his appearance at the next week’s Grammy awards was almost put into jeopardy. But he’d made it through and, if anything, only earned more attention and sales from the stunt. Intentional or not.

“You’re such a pig,” she said as she caught his expression and punched him in the arm.

He shrugged good-naturedly.

“You said almost,” she said suddenly. “What did you mean?”

He paused, racking his brain for what she was referring to.

“You said that you felt alive up there, performing for your fans. That there was almost nothing quite like it. Something must have exceeded that for you then. What was it?”

She was sometimes too astute for her own good. He tried to figure out how to explain it. “The only time I ever felt anything close to being onstage was back here. In Blossom Falls. Surrounded by Aunt Daphne, Finn, your entire family, actually.” And her, he thought immediately but couldn’t bring himself to admit out loud. “That feeling of being a part of something, connected, as we sat together at Thanksgiving dinner or on Christmas morning, sharing cake at everyone’s birthday parties. Heck, even roasting marshmallows out at the fire pit as your dad told us those ghost stories that we all pretended not to be scared of until it was time to head to bed… Those moments, those feelings, they just can’t be matched.”

She nodded and her eyes sparkled with warmth and understanding. How could she not realize how beautiful she was? Her beauty was quiet and steadfast, not flashy like some of the actresses and supermodels he’d dated these past years.

Her beauty was innocent and fresh but infinitely sexier.

Made him think of taking her hand in his, feeling the connection that he’d always fought against but that now seemed to beckon him. Of being able to tickle her under the ribs, like when they were kids, until she squealed for him to stop, which he would do this time but only after bringing her up close against him and settling into the soft curves and valleys of that pint-sized frame.

Of tilting her head, inhaling everything about her before he leaned in to kiss her.

As if he was meant to.

Tessa found herself wanting to swim in the depths of Dylan’s eyes as he studied her, a strange light entering them that had her breath catching in her throat.

What was he thinking about? What secrets lay behind that grin?

She couldn’t take the suspense, the energy that crackled in the few inches that separated them, and she came to her feet quickly. “It’s getting colder out here than I expected. I’m going to head back while I can still feel my fingers and toes.”

He rose slowly and took a step toward her, closing the space between them.

Too close. She needed to get away and she stepped back, needing the distance.

A bad move since, so distracted, she hadn’t realized how close she was to the edge, and in the next moment, she was falling backwards. Dylan’s hand swept out to grab her, but instead of finding purchase, his face widened in surprise as he fumbled forward, both of them falling down into the cold, murky water of the pond.

The cold water hit her hard. Through elbows and knees and the heavy hulk on top of her, she found the surface and gasped for breath. The water was deeper here, which was why it had always been the favored spot for jumping, and right now she was struggling from her boots and the onslaught of water in her lungs to stay afloat. As if he sensed her peril, a strong, steady arm was around her waist and she clung to it, accepting its warmth and stability as he pulled her to shallower water, where he seemed to have found footing. With her other hand, she pushed a mop of wet hair from her eyes and the grass and sludge from her face.

It was then the humor of the situation hit her, and she burst out laughing, a sentiment that Dylan echoed with a gust of his own laughter that rocked his chest—and her—as he did. “I’ve heard girls say how they’d fallen for me and all, but never before have I actually seen it.”

“You wish,” she said, splashing him, a gesture he easily dodged.

He took a moment to shove back a strand of his own hair that was hanging over his face before settling his hand on her hip. His touch felt like a brand, and she flinched.

“Hey. Remember that summer when you were obsessed with that movie? Dirty Dancing?” he asked, unaware of the effect his hand was having on her.

Of course she remembered. She’d watched the movie every night, rewinding it to her favorite parts, insisting that every single Montenegro brother—and Dylan—watched it at least three times. She shrugged. “Vaguely.”

“Vaguely? You’d think the fact you nearly drowned me trying to recreate the lift scene in this very spot would have etched a more lasting memory.”

She laughed. “Okay, fine. I wanted to live in that movie, I loved it so much.”

“We were actually pretty good. Once we got the hang of it.”

She remembered it all and how no amount of pleading and begging could convince her brothers to undertake the move, but how Dylan had ultimately relented, always her hero.

He smiled more devilishly. “Want to give it a try?”

“Try?” She blinked. “You want to try and lift me now? I was fourteen last time we did that, when I had no fear of falling. Unlike now,” she said, suddenly nervous at the prospect of his hands on both of her hips.

“Is there something better you have to do? Come on. It will be fun.”

Okay. So his suggestion was utterly ridiculous. She was beyond that obsession, and yet…

She eyed his arms, bulging underneath his tee shirt that now clung to his body, every nuance outlined in the moonlight.

Man. She really wanted to do it.

“All right. One time. But you’re going to have to take me somewhere I can actually push off.”

Without another word, he stepped back until she could find her footing. One thing was certain. She was going to have to lose the boots. The silt of the pond sucked at her feet every step she took, making her feel like the swamp creature as she walked to the pond’s edge, where she pulled them off and tossed them aside. She pulled her shirt down, wondering if she was really about to do this.

“Okay. You asked for it.”

She stepped slowly, making sure her foot didn’t hit anything alive and squishy, until she was only a few feet away from him. He nodded, letting her know her cue, and, taking a deep breath, she pushed off with her feet to get a semi-running start before leaping up. Only her jump wasn’t as graceful as she’d have liked from the yelp below her as her elbow smacked him on the head.

She laughed despite herself. “Sorry. I warned you.”

He rubbed his head. “Let’s try it again.”

Three tries later, they hadn’t been any more successful. At a mere fourteen, Tessa was practically fearless. She’d put her mind to doing that jump, and she’d done it. Right now, however, Tessa was struggling to let herself feel that fearlessness.

But she’d give it another go. One more breath in and she ran, plunging forward as she told herself that there was nothing to fear. Strong arms and warm hands were under her, helping to push her up until she was breaking the surface of the water and almost flying.

She was doing it. She was really doing it.

A sentiment that lasted another two seconds when she looked down and saw the light in Dylan’s eyes as he held her. It looked almost like…attraction? Desire? Admiration?

Was he looking up her shirt?

Immediately, she lost her balance and fell, his arms there to hold on to her as she plunged under the water again. Sputtering from the mouthful of water, she coughed and let herself be held in his arms.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I guess maybe some things can’t be repeated.”

It was then she recognized how easily her body seemed to fit against his, her legs sliding around each of his hips as she rested her weight on him so they faced each other. His body was a beacon of heat compared to the coldness of the water, and she drew nearer as did he, their breathing loud in her ears as she watched the water dripping down his face, over the fine blond hair of his beard, and down his neck. His throat convulsed and she raised her gaze to meet his.

She almost didn’t see his kiss coming, the bow of his head as he tipped it so his lips could slide across hers, barely a whisper at first, his breath against her skin. Then he was gone, leaning back as he studied her reaction.

When she blinked and lifted her mouth higher, he seemed to understand what she wanted as his lips found hers again, stronger now against hers, urging her mouth to open to him. And she did, gripping his shoulders as she brought him even closer.

This was what she’d been resisting the moment she saw him. This attraction, this energy that always existed between them, drawing them closer. For that moment, she let her eyes close, let him in through the barrier she’d built around herself. This was what it was like to love and be—

She froze as she realized what she was thinking.

No. This couldn’t happen. Not again. She wouldn’t let herself feel that pain again when he left.

“Stop,” she said and pushed away from his warmth and solidness. But this time she was closer to the shallow end, and in a few strokes, she was standing on her own, backing away from him. “This can’t happen.”

The sucking ground of the pond slowed her progress until she reached the edge, where she snatched her boots and glanced back.

Dylan’s exit was slower, his grin so deep that she could almost see his dimples even through the thickness of that beard. His slow steps that continued in her direction had the bells going off in her head again, but in an unfortunate stroke of luck, the bells seemed to have conflicting messages.

On one hand, she was flooded with foreboding that had her ready to run without looking back. On the other, she had to fight the urge to jump back in his arms and see exactly where that kiss might lead.

Fortunately, sense and self-preservation seemed to win out, and she managed to keep her footing as, boots clutched in her hand, she walked barefoot away from him and in the direction of the farmhouse.

“Good night, Tessa,” Dylan called out seconds later, his voice farther behind, telling her he wasn’t following. Which was a relief.

Wasn’t it?

Reaching the sanctuary of the porch, she dropped her boots and pushed the back door open, relieved that no one was around to see her. She was aware of the water trail she left behind her, but she could clean that up later, and she continued up the stairs and into the bathroom, where she shut the door and locked it.

She leaned against the door, her legs wobbly and numb.

What the heck had just happened? How could she have let that happen? Hadn’t she learned her lesson before? Was she completely insane?

When she was sure her feet wouldn’t give out from under her, she went over and started the shower, eager to get the pond scum and slime off of her. But as she stood under the spray of the water, it was hard not to remember the feeling of his body under hers. His lips, his mouth, his hands—

Crap.

She was in trouble.