“She okay?” I asked Jordan when he returned to the kitchen.

While we waited for Rebecca, he’d done the man thing, where he’d stared at me, not saying much and trying to intimidate me with his silence.

I’d first explained to him why I was here, that Max sent me here in order to get out of California for a few months until my divorce was settled so I didn’t have to deal with paparazzi.

He’d grunted a few times and gone back to his phone.

I’d ignored him, focused on a game on my phone after I started a fresh pot of coffee.

The ease with which I moved around the kitchen didn’t pass Jordan’s attention either. I didn’t bother explaining. He was there to check me out and for the most part, I was surprised he didn’t jump right in after Rebecca disappeared upstairs.

Apparently he was going with the slow-drip torture technique.

Whatever.

“Not really.”

I waited for more, and finally, he gave it.

“She’s stubborn as the day is long. She’s hurting and no, she’s not really okay but she mostly does a helluva job of faking it. But, if you mean if she’ll be down soon, then yeah, she’s okay.”

It was the most he’d spoken and apparently he decided to flood the gates because he kept talking. “I’m not an idiot. I have approximately thirty waitresses at the restaurant I run. I have an assistant who, when she’s not scheduling my appointments and trying to find me a new manager for the golf course maintenance shed, is scrolling through Instagram or checking out celebrity gossip sites.”

I set down my cup of coffee on the counter and settled my ass against it. “So you’ve heard about Camilla.”

“I know she went on a show the other night and bawled her eyes out saying how much she loves you and wants you back, yeah.”

Damn woman. I’d throttle her if I wasn’t half a country away from her. There were excuses I could give Jordan, explanations for everything, and frankly, it was none of his damn business. But he was a straight shooter and I suspected he’d appreciate the same.

“Loved her,” I said. “I loved my wife, not going to lie to you. Met her at a party, never looked back, and I had no clue she was jacking me around for the last five years. It hurt. It also pisses me off to know I wasted so much time wanting a family with her, not seeing any sign that she’d been cheating on me ever since she took my ring. Not going to lie, that shit burns too, but I’ve also had months to clear my head about her. If you’re asking me if I’m even considering taking her back, the answer is no. No way in hell.”

“Actually, what I’m wondering is if you came out here to clear your head, ignore all that bullshit, and you needed some space to do it, and you’ve now done it, then why the hell are you still here?”

I’d had the same thought yesterday when I talked to Max. I could go home. I could fight Camilla face to face and be a man and suck it all up and move the hell on with my life.

I knew why I didn’t want to leave. I just wasn’t going to admit it. Not to him. Not yet.

“My sister is strong,” Jordan said before I could come up with a lame excuse. “She’s so damn strong, but this bullshit about needing help is just that. She could pick up the phone and have a half-dozen men here helping. It’s what farmers and ranchers do. She could call me, and I’ve told her to, and I’ve showed up without that call only to get frozen out. She needs the help and doesn’t want it because she wants to do it on her own. So it makes me wonder why in the hell she agreed to let you come.”

“It’s a favor to Max.”

“Bullshit. Max cares about Rebecca. He might love her like a daughter but he’s not sending an actor to help her out to get space from his life without an agenda. You know Max at all, you know that.”

It hadn’t been the first time I thought that too. “It’s not like that with us,” I said, my jaw tightening and my muscles bunching.

Jordan had no problems laying it all out there but he had to be wrong. Max wouldn’t try to screw us both like this.

Jordan pushed off from his chair and headed toward me, moving to the coffeepot and lowered his voice. “You might not think it’s like that, but it is, at least in Max’s head. He’s playing both of you, and I’m warning you now, be careful. She’s just lost her husband, a man she loved more than her breath. She doesn’t need you fucking with her head or her heart, or other parts of her, and taking off.”

If I hadn’t heard footsteps pounding down the stairway I would have punched him. My hands were already balled into fists, ready to strike. Forcing that anger out of me, I stepped back, put space between us and shook my head. “If that’s Max’s agenda, I can guarantee you he’s the only one getting screwed here. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“You wouldn’t try to hurt her. That I believe.”

Shit.

God fucking damn it. Was it that easy to read how much I wanted his sister?

He was right. The best, the smartest decision, was for me to leave.

That wasn’t going to happen either. I wasn’t ready. And it wasn’t just Rebecca holding me here. It was all of it. For two weeks, I’d worked on a ranch instead of showing up for makeup and twelve-hour days on sets. I didn’t have any desire to go back to that yet.

“Sorry that took so long,” Rebecca said, walking into the kitchen. Her head was down, hair pulled back, but she was now dressed in a pair of cut-off denim shorts, not too much longer than the pajama shorts she’d had on and a green tank top that still showed all her damn curves.

Hot damn I wanted my hands on those hips.

I looked away, only to be met with Jordan’s eyes on me. He quirked his lips, letting me know he saw me checking out his sister but fortunately kept his mouth shut.

Man was smart as a whip and missed nothing.

Rebecca was at the fridge, bent over, moving crap around and talking. “What do you want, Jordan? Sausage or bacon.”

“Yes, please,” he said.

I managed to drag my eyes off his sister’s ass and grabbed a mug from the counter. I filled it for her, black like she drank it, as she slammed the door to the fridge and glared at Jordan.

“You’re a pain in my ass.” She still had both packages of sausage and bacon in her hands.

“Here.” I held out the coffee mug. “For you.”

She stumbled, almost dropped the bacon. “Oh. Thank you. That was nice of you.”

She said it all without looking at me.

In fact, while she got moving in the kitchen and started cooking, she didn’t look at me once.

A thick sludge slid down my throat. She remembered last night.

She just didn’t want to.

Probably for the best nothing happened. I’d make sure it didn’t from here on out. Jordan was one hundred percent correct. The fact was, I had no business starting anything with a woman, even if it was physical only, because my time here was temporary.

No way would I hurt her like Jordan said I would. I refused to let it happen.

“So you own a golf resort?” I asked, turning to Jordan and changing the subject.

“Yep. Opened it up when I moved back to town a couple of years ago. Biggest golf course and spa resort in the area. Brings in people from all over who don’t want to make the trek to Kansas City.”

“Didn’t you ever want to work the ranch?”

Across the kitchen, Rebecca laughed. Loudly. “Please. All that farm work could have hurt his arm or shoulder and then he wouldn’t be able to play.”

“Play?”

Jordan nodded. “Ball. Went to KU on a baseball scholarship.”

Holy shit. Max had told me, but I’d been too wrapped up in Camilla and Rebecca to remember. “Fuck. You played for the Rockies, right?”

“Best pitcher in the National League, two straight years,” Rebecca said over the sizzle and pop of bacon.

Jesus. I’d seen him at a Dodgers game. My head was totally up my ass to not have put all this together.

“That’s right. Max talked about that after you blew out your knee.”

“Yeah, that sucked. You a Rockies fan?”

He already hated me, I figured I couldn’t dig my gravesite any deeper. “Nope. Dodgers ’til I die.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

It was typical man bullshit, but better than me having to talk to him about his sister or how long I was staying.

Those were holes I wasn’t jumping down any more that day. Or ever.

We gave each other crap about sports and teams and where our allegiances lie, almost always on the opposite sides of the fence, while Rebecca finished cooking breakfast. We were almost done eating, Jordan shoving the last bite of his sausage into his mouth, when he spoke again.

“Not to be a dick here, but obviously last night you weren’t recognized. You plan on staying on the ranch the entire time you’re here or do you have a plan for when you’re outed? Based on what I’ve heard, your wife is trying to hunt you down.”

“It’s nothing but publicity she’s searching for,” I said to both of them. “But to answer your question, I had a wig on last night, it worked. I’m not concerned.”

He turned his attention to Rebecca. “And you just plan on lying to everyone this summer?”

“How about you let me deal with my business and you stick to yours?”

“When you going to start dealing, Rebecca?”

His anger pulsed across the table and Rebecca looked like he’d slapped her.

“Fuck you,” she gritted out, chin wobbling. She shoved away from the table and took off through the back door, letting it slam behind her.

I was already on my feet, moving after her while pointing my finger at Jordan. “Get the fuck out of here. That was a dick move.”

“You don’t know her. She needs the push. Trust me, you might think I’m a dick right now, but she needs this. I know my sister.”

What the hell ever. I took off and didn’t have to think about where I was going.

The roar of one of the ATVs was already blaring and I ran in the direction of the barn, meeting Rebecca at it right as she started taking off.