A Rare Gift

Jaci Burton

With a disastrous marriage behind him, Wyatt Kent has no interest in getting involved with any woman, let alone his ex-wife’s younger sister. But when Calliope Andrews hires him to build an addition onto her day care center, Wyatt can’t help but notice she’s a desirable woman, as warm and funny as his ex was cold and aloof.

Calliope fell hard for Wyatt the first time he walked through the door of her family’s home, and can’t believe her sister let him get away. He’s still the star of all her fantasies, and she’s determined to prove to him she’s nothing like his manipulative ex. Wyatt may be all business, but Calliope sees the way he looks at her when he’s supposed to be working…

It’s not long before Wyatt and Calliope are keeping each other warm on cold December nights. But it’s going to take a Christmas miracle for Wyatt to put his trust in love a second time.

28,000 words

Dear Reader,

In December 2010 we published our first set of three holiday collections. I hoped at the time it would become a Carina Press tradition, and I’m pleased that we were able to do this again in 2011.

This year, I invited four amazing authors to participate in the contemporary holiday collection. Between them, Jaci Burton, HelenKay Dimon, Alison Kent and Shannon Stacey have decades of writing experience and have published books their fans have adored. I knew these four authors would bring together holiday stories that would capture our hearts and take us away from the holiday craziness for a few hours. And did they ever!

I’m thrilled and proud to share the heart-wrenching and wonderful holiday stories of the Holiday Kisses collection with you. I hope you love A Rare Gift by Jaci Burton, It’s Not Christmas Without You by HelenKay Dimon, This Time Next Year by Alison Kent and Mistletoe and Margaritas by Shannon Stacey as much as I did. These are stories and characters that will live on for you, long after you’ve read the last page.

I’m incredibly pleased to make these stories available to you both individually, and as a collection, and I hope you fall in love with them just as I did!

We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to generalinquiries@carinapress.com. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

Happy reading!

~Angela James

Executive Editor, Carina Press

www.carinapress.com

www.twitter.com/carinapress

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Dedication

For Charlie. I love you.

Contents

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

About the Author

Chapter One

Wyatt Kent stood outside Small Hands Day Care Center, debating whether or not he could actually go inside.

He was no coward, but it wasn’t often he was faced with something like this.

He was about to give a bid on a construction job for his ex-wife’s younger sister.

How he’d gotten stuck with this he didn’t know. That was what he got for not paying attention in meetings. He’d been bulldozed by his two brothers along with Tori, Kent Construction’s oh-so-efficient but manipulative office manager.

“No big deal, Wyatt.”

“Calliope Andrews is nothing like your ex-wife, Cassandra.”

“No one else can do the project, Wyatt. It’s either you or the job doesn’t get done.”

Might as well suck it up and get this over with. The wood-frame house was painted shocking blue and blinding white. The sign out in the front yard was plastered with a bunch of multicolored handprints.

So it was cute. The house needed a new coat of paint. Probably would need a new roof within the next year or two, too. But that wasn’t his problem. He stood at the end of the walkway and watched the endless parade of parents driving up to the side of the house. The side door opened, parents dashed in to retrieve kids, then the car drove through to the back alley and the next car pulled up.

Wyatt went up to the front door and rang the bell, then waited for someone to answer. And waited. And waited. He tried the door, figuring he’d let himself in, but it was locked.

Great.

He went around to the side and was halted by a tall, thick woman with short cropped black hair and likely more muscles than he had. She wore jeans and a T-shirt and looked more like a wrestler than a day care worker.

She frowned, gave him the head-to-toe once-over.

“Who are you?”

“Wyatt Kent. I have an appointment with Calliope Andrews.”

She laid her hand on his chest to keep him in place. “Stay here. Miss Calliope, there’s a Wyatt Kent here. Says he’s supposed to meet with you.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s okay, Beth. I’m expecting him.”

Beth tossed a thumb over her shoulder. “Go on back. You’re in my way.”

“Go on back where?”

“Straight down the hall, then turn right. All the way to the end.”

Wyatt nodded and dodged a bunch of giggling little girls on his way. They were a few years younger than his eight-year-old niece, Zoey, but they were all dressed in pink—Zoey’s favorite color.

Most of the kids must have gone home by now. With the exception of a few stragglers dashing by him on his way down the hall, the place had gone quiet. He found the room Beth had directed him to. It was fairly small and completely empty.

A playroom, it was stuffed with overflowing bookshelves and toys and tables and a giant castle.

He stood in the middle of the room, figuring Calliope had stepped out.

Until he heard a rustling in the castle, then a groan. He turned around and saw one very attractive, jeans-clad butt attempting to back out of the castle opening.

“I swear if my butt gets any bigger I’m not going to be able to clean the toys out of this thing and we’ll need to get a bigger castle.”

He disagreed. She had a great ass.

She flung toys over her shoulder while Wyatt stood there, feeling sort of inept.

“You need some help there?”

She stilled, her head jerked up and she bumped it against the opening. “Ow. Dammit.” She rubbed the wild curls on top of her head, then backed all the way out and sat on the floor, adjusted the tortoise-shell glasses that had ridden down the bridge of her very cute nose.

“Wyatt. I thought you were Beth. You’re not Beth.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Sorry. I was cleaning up in here.” She pushed off her knees and stood, adjusting her shirt over some very full breasts and grinned at him. “I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s go to my office where it’s a little less insane.”

The last time Wyatt had seen Calliope Andrews, he’d still been married to her older sister Cassandra, and Calliope had been—hell, in college? Maybe nineteen or twenty, at most, was his guess. She’d been chubby, her hair a corkscrew of untamed brown curls, and she’d worn really ugly glasses. In short, she’d been a hot mess.

He followed her down the hall, watching the way her hips moved when she walked.

“Here we are.” She opened the door and led him into a small office. Her desk sat next to the window and there were a couple chairs on either side. He took one and she sat across from him instead of at her desk.

She still wore glasses and her hair was still curly and she was still hot, all right. But she wasn’t a mess at all. Calliope had grown up. It had to have been six years or so at least since he’d seen her last. She’d lost the baby fat, was curvy in all the right places, and her glasses made her eyes look like sparkling emeralds.

God, she was gorgeous.

But she wasn’t at all like Cassandra, who’d been tall, slender and blonde.

And the devil in disguise.

“Thank you for taking on this project, Wyatt.”

“No one else had the time.”

She quirked a brow, then grinned again. “So you’re stuck with me, then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She laughed and didn’t seem at all offended. “I know this is probably hard for you, seeing as how you’ve managed to avoid me since I came to town.”

“I haven’t avoided you.”

“Yes, you have. But it’s okay. I understand why. You’re not very fond of my sister, and you think we’re exactly alike.” She patted his hand. “But trust me, I’m nothing like Cassie.”

He blinked, not sure he understood anything that had happened so far. He figured the two of them would dance around the topic of Cassandra, and here Calliope had said her name, torn open the wounds, making them bleed fresh, like it had happened yester…

“Wyatt. Wyatt.” She snapped her fingers. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” He stood. “Let’s go see where you want this addition.”

“Sure.” She stood, too. “Surely you’re over her by now, aren’t you? I mean it’s been three years. She’s not worth mourning over for that long.”

Calliope opened the door to her office and walked down the same hallway they’d come from.

Her saying it that way made him feel foolish for feeling closed up and angry for three damn years over a woman who’d only cared about herself.

“You are over her, aren’t you?”

God, she was persistent. “Yeah. Over her.”

“Good. Because I want us to be friends.”

He stopped in the middle of the hall. “What?”

She stopped, too, turning and dipping her head back to look into his eyes.

Damn she had pretty eyes. Pretty hair. And she smelled good, too. He couldn’t figure out what she smelled like. Something that made him want to swipe his tongue across her neck.

His jeans tightened. It had been a long damn time since that had happened. He didn’t trust women, tried to stay away from them.

And he sure as hell planned to stay away from Calliope.

“Wyatt. Are you drunk? Did you stop at the bar after work?”

“What?” He looked down at her. She must have been saying something, because her lips quirked.

“I’ve been talking. You’re not listening. Want to do this another day?”

“No.” He didn’t want to do it at all. “Show me what you want.”

She paused, her cheeks turning pink. “Sure. This way.”

They went into the room where the castle was. “I want the addition off this room, to extend the play area so I can separate the kids by age group. Younger kids in here, older kids in the new room.”

Finally, something to distract him from Calliope, from the way she looked, the way she smelled, the things—people—she reminded him of. He took out his tape measure and started making some notes based on what she wanted, which was a room a little larger than the one they stood in, with ample storage space.

Nothing fancy. Doable. Easy enough. He’d bring in some extra labor to help, and he’d be out of there. Calliope stayed quiet while he wrote down materials and labor needed to get the job done. He turned to her. Looked at her. And all the memories came flooding back.

He couldn’t do this.

“Wyatt. I know I was kidding you about getting over things and doing this job, but if you’re seriously having second thoughts, I know there’s this other company I looked up that can handle it. The Johnson Brothers?”

That did it.

Kent Construction was a family-owned business and had been since their father and grandfather had started up the company over fifty years ago. They’d had a stronghold on Deer Lake with very little competition.

The Johnsons were a new outfit who’d been leeching into their territory for the past few years, stealing business away from them. Wyatt didn’t mind competition, but he didn’t like the Johnson brothers. They weren’t local, their workmanship was shoddy, they cut corners and used inferior products. And he hated losing to them.

It was only a single room addition. How long could it take? A month, six weeks at most.

He could suck it up and deal for six weeks. And even if he couldn’t, he wasn’t about to give a job away—an easy job he could handle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll go back to the office, write up an estimate and have it delivered to you tomorrow.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Won’t you bring it by so we can get the contract signed? I’d like to get started on this as soon as possible.” She raised her hands out to her sides. “As you can tell we’ve outgrown the space and really need the extra room here.”

He inhaled, let it out. “Fine. I’ll deliver it in the morning and bring a contract with me.”

There was that grin again. She had dimples. Awfully cute.

No. She wasn’t cute. Not at all. Nothing about her was cute. Or sexy.

“I gotta go.” He turned and fled the room.

“Okay.” She skirted in front of him. “Here, let’s go out the front door.”

Once again he was forced to trail behind her, giving him a great view of her ass.

Calliope was the first woman he’d noticed—really ogled, as a matter of fact—in a long time.

That sent danger and warning signals flashing in his head.

Say no. Walk away. Don’t do this job.

But he’d be damned if he was going to lose another job to those asshole Johnsons. How much danger could he be in with Calliope Andrews? She owned a day care center. She would be busy all day. So would he. They’d barely run into each other, right?

She opened the door and stood with her hand on the door knob, the other pushing up her glasses.

“Thanks for coming by, Wyatt. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

He hurried out the front door and hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until he reached the sidewalk. He turned back to look at the door.

Calliope was still there. She waved at him.

Like an idiot he waved to her, then snatched his hand back and shoved it in his jacket pocket.

He was not going to be nice. He didn’t have to be. All he had to do was his job.

And nothing more.

Chapter Two

Calliope finished cleaning up the playroom, then went into her office to shut down the computer.

That was when she saw Wyatt’s clipboard.

Oh, no. He’d need that if he was going to do her estimate. She picked up the phone, intending to call his office, then laid it back down.

She was on her way out the door anyway, and the offices of Kent Construction were a few miles away. She’d drop it off on her way home.

So maybe his office wasn’t exactly on her way home, since she only lived a couple blocks from the day care center, but she didn’t mind going out of her way to deliver his clipboard.

And maybe she might want to see him again tonight.

And maybe she might still have a crush on him.

But crush or not, this was business, and it had to come first. She needed the addition to the day care center and she needed Wyatt focused on giving her that estimate.

She climbed into her car and headed toward his offices, remembering how it had been all those years ago.

She’d been more than a little bit in love—or at least lust—with Wyatt since she was fifteen years old and her older sister Cassandra had dragged him over to the house to meet their parents. When he’d walked through the door, she’d been sitting at the kitchen table doing her homework. She’d looked up, saw him and her breath had stopped.

Wyatt had been twenty-three back then—and gorgeous. And then Cassie had walked in and slipped her hand in Wyatt’s and all Calliope’s hopes were dashed. Cassie had been taken with Wyatt’s lean good looks, his dark hair and blue eyes. And why wouldn’t she? Every girl in Deer Lake wanted him, and Cassie loved competition—loved to win. She’d won Wyatt, though Calliope had been certain Cassie had never loved Wyatt. She’d only wanted him because every other girl in town had wanted him, too. Once Cassie had him, she paraded him around town like a prize possession.

Cassie was beautiful, with her dark blond hair that fell straight and sleek to her waist, and a killer body that she honed for hours at the gym. And she was so smart, had gone to college and gotten her business degree, then gone to work for one of the top real-estate firms in town, eventually branching out to start her own company. Real estate and construction—Cassie and Wyatt’s businesses had even meshed.

They’d really been the perfect couple.

But the two of them hadn’t been the perfect couple at all, and it had broken Calliope’s heart to see both of them so unhappy. Sometimes things don’t work out. They were better apart than together. Cassie had moved on, but for some reason, Wyatt seemed to hold a grudge.

But the past was the past and she’d hoped Wyatt was over it by now. Nobody was worth pining over for three years—not even her sister.

She pulled up to the offices. Wyatt’s truck wasn’t there.

Huh. She got out anyway and went to the front door, tried to open it, but it was locked up tight. She peered through the glass. It was dark.

Maybe he decided he’d come in early in the morning to do the bid. She shrugged and got back into her car, deciding she’d come back in the morning and bring him the clipboard.

On her way back down Central, she spotted his truck parked in front of Stokey’s bar.

Oh. That’s where he was. She’d drop off the clipboard to him there. She parked and went inside, blinking to adjust her eyes to the darkness.

She wasn’t much of a drinker, so she’d never been in Stokey’s before. There wasn’t a whole lot of atmosphere to the place. Dim lighting, bottles of alcohol stocked behind a very dark wood bar. There was a pool table off to one side, a dart board on the opposite wall and a couple televisions scattered about showing various sporting events.

There were only a handful of people inside—all men. Then again it was a Tuesday and not even seven-thirty yet. Maybe the big crowds didn’t show up until later.

The men who were present stopped what they were doing to give her the once-over as she made her way to the bar.

Wyatt had a beer in hand, his focus on one of the televisions mounted behind the bar. She climbed onto the barstool next to his.

“Hey there.”

Nothing. He didn’t even acknowledge her. Then again, the television was turned up pretty loud, so maybe he hadn’t heard her.

“Wyatt, you forgot your clipboard.”

He finally turned his head, then frowned. “Calliope. What are you doing in here?”

She slid the clipboard across the bar to him, then smiled at him. “Your clipboard. You left it at the center. Thought you might need it to work up those numbers for me.”

He looked at her like he had no idea who she was. Then he gave her a quick nod. “Yeah, right. Thanks.”

He used to be so full of life. He’d laugh and his face would light up when he smiled. Her toes curled remembering what he looked like when he smiled.

“You want something to drink?”

She shifted her gaze to the bartender, a heavyset guy with male pattern baldness.

“Oh. Uh. You know, I don’t know.” She turned to Wyatt. “What should I have?”

Wyatt stared at her. “How should I know?”

“Well, I don’t really drink that often, so I’m not the best judge of what’s good. What do you suggest?”

Wyatt raised his bottle to his lips. “Beer.”

She nodded and looked at the bartender. “I’ll have a beer.”

The bartender flipped the top off the bottle and slid it to her. She reached into her purse for the money and paid him, leaving an extra dollar for a tip. Then she slid around on the stool to check out what was going on while she took a long swallow of the beer, shuddering at the taste.

Soda would be better, but this would have to do.

She slipped off the barstool and walked over to the pool table to watch the two guys play. She’d never played pool, either, though there’d been a table at her dorm in college.

The cool people played. She’d never been one of the cool people. Now that she was a single adult, she should learn to do cool things instead of always being wrapped up with work.

One of the guys—a burly, halfway decent-looking type wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, shifted his gaze to hers and grinned at her. “Want to take me on, honey?”

“Oh, I’ve never played before. Can you teach me?”

He took his shot and straightened, grabbed his beer and came over to stand beside her while his partner took a shot. “Honey, I can teach you anything you want to know.”

“Great. Then I’d love to learn how to play.”

They finished up their game, and the guy—who introduced himself as Joey Johnson—put the balls in the triangular thing. He called it “racking the balls”. Once they were all set, he put the white ball in front of them.

“Now we break,” he said, leaning forward with the pool cue.

She watched as he shot the white ball toward all the other balls. They scattered, some falling into the holes around the table.

“We’ll play simple eight ball,” Joey said. “I’m solid, you’re stripes. I shoot until I miss. Then it’s your turn to get your ball into the pockets.”

“Seems simple enough.”

Except Joey didn’t miss very often. He put four of his balls in one of the pockets before she had a chance.

Of course that meant she’d gotten to watch his technique. It seemed easy enough. She bent over the table and tried to hold her pool cue the same way he did.

She wasn’t very coordinated, though, and couldn’t quite remember the hand positioning.

Joey laughed. “Here, let me help you.”

He aligned his body next to hers, his pelvis shoving up behind her.

She might be naïve about pool, but she wasn’t dumb about men. Joey was hitting on her in the most basic of ways, and wasn’t subtle about it at all.

He could teach her to play pool, but she wouldn’t be going home with him tonight.

“Just do it so it’s comfortable for you.” He put the cue in her hands, showed her the proper positioning. And that wasn’t the only positioning he showed her.

Really? Sometimes men were so obvious.

Her gaze drifted over to Wyatt, who had swiveled around on his barstool and glared daggers at them.

He looked upset. At her.

She rolled her eyes.

And sometimes men were just plain dumb.

She straightened, smiled at Joey. “I think I’ve got the hang of it now, and if you shove your—” she looked down at his crotch, “—assets at me again, I’m going to knee you in the balls. Understood?”

His eyes widened, then he grinned. “Loud and clear.”

Now that they had that straight, she took her shot. And amazing thing, the ball fell into the pocket. She let out a loud whoop and the guys around her cheered and high-fived her.

She might yet get the hang of this game.

Wyatt watched Calliope play pool. She wasn’t very good at it, but maybe it was an act to gather an entourage of men who were all too eager to help her out.

Within a half hour there were six guys hanging on her. And who wouldn’t? She had a great ass, perfect breasts and the kind of hips a man wanted to grab on to and never let go. She looked you straight in the eye and smiled—a lot. And her laugh—damn, her laugh made his balls tighten. Deep and throaty, and she threw her head back and let it go for all she was worth.

Cassandra had always been subtle. She only had to enter a room and the men would come running. And she loved the attention. She barely noticed Wyatt was in the room once the guys swarmed around her.

He guessed the sisters were alike in that respect.

Except after two games, Calliope put the pool cue down, waved goodbye to the guys she’d collected and headed toward him.

She slid back onto the barstool and signaled the bartender.

“Another beer?”

“No, thank you. How about a diet soda?”

She turned to Wyatt. “You don’t play pool?”

“I play.”

“Why didn’t you join us?”

“I don’t hang out with the Johnson brothers.”

She quirked a brow. “Why not?”

“They’re competitors.”

She thanked the bartender for the soda and dug into her bag for money.

“I’ve got this. Add it to my tab, Bill.”

“Thanks.” She turned back and took a sip from the straw. “So because you and the Johnson brothers compete in business, you can’t be friendly?”

“Not with those guys.”

“Huh. Why not?”

He turned his head and gave her a look. “Because they’re assholes.”

She snorted. “Seemed like nice enough guys to me.”

“I’m sure you’d think that.”

“What does that mean?”

He faced ahead again. “Nothing.”

“You’re very irritable, Wyatt. Did you have a rough day?”

Calliope—unlike her sister—wasn’t subtle at all. “No, I didn’t have a rough day. And I’m not irritable. I’d like to be left alone.”

“Being alone just makes you lonely. And that’s not good for anybody. Is this what you do every night?”

Now he was forced to look at her again. “What?”

“Do you come here every night by yourself?”

Mostly. “Sometimes.”

“And do what? Drink alone?”

She had him pegged. He didn’t like it. “Why do you care?”

“I’ve always cared about you. You should get out and have some fun, not sit in this dark place and brood. You’re like Heathcliff. Or the Beast from Beauty and the Beast.” She laid her hand on his thigh. It made him want to groan. He didn’t want to think about her being a woman—and a very attractive, sexy woman, at that. He wanted her to go away.

“Who’s Heathcliff? And the Beast? Thanks a lot.”

“I told you. Brooding. And really? Heathcliff? Wuthering Heights? Surely you’ve read that.”

“Heard of the book. Never read it.”

She leaned an elbow against the bar and put her lips around the straw, sucking up soda. His brain immediately registered lips and suck and there went the quivering in his balls again. She had a great mouth—a full bottom lip made to be tugged on.

Dammit.

He pulled out a couple bills and paid his bar tab, then grabbed his clipboard. “I gotta go.”

He headed for the door. She followed.

“Yeah, I probably should, too. 6:00 a.m. comes awfully early. Thanks for buying me a drink.”

“It was just a soda, Calliope.”

It was dark outside. She zipped up her jacket and turned to him, gracing him with her beautiful smile again. “Still, you didn’t have to and I really appreciate it.”

Cassandra had never thanked him for anything. She’d always expected men to do things for her—buy her things, hold the door open for her, worship her.

He walked Calliope to her car. She grabbed her keys out of her bag, opened the door and quirked her lips up at him.

A man could get lost in a smile like that. There was something so guileless and innocent about it.

She laid her hand on his arm, then surprised the hell out of him by stepping in and wrapping her arms around him to hug him. The warmth of her seeped through his jacket, and every part of him that was a man felt every curve of her body as she pressed against him.

It was a brief hug, likely nothing more than something friendly. She pulled back and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Wyatt.”

His breath caught in his throat. “Yeah. Goodnight.”

He went to his truck and climbed in, laying the clipboard next to him while he watched Calliope pull out of the parking lot.

He could still feel every part of her body that had touched his, could still smell the faint scent of vanilla.

He shouldn’t have taken this job.

Chapter Three

Tori brought the bid by the next morning. She explained that Wyatt had to finish up a project on another site. Calliope signed off on the bid and Tori told her they’d start on it right away, but it would likely be a while because they couldn’t do anything until they filed the permits and the cement floor was poured.

It took a week for the whole permit and cement thing, and through it all she didn’t see Wyatt again. He’d sent a cement crew out to lay the foundation, and then trucks came to drop off materials. Tori had called saying Wyatt would start the project today.

Not that she’d been counting the days until she saw him or anything.

Not that she’d spent any time thinking about that ridiculously impulsive urge to hug him that night a week ago outside the bar.

What had she been thinking? They were about to enter into a business relationship. And she might be a touchy-feely type of person, and maybe she did hug just about every person on the planet, from her kids at the center to their parents and everyone who worked for her, but that didn’t mean she had to go and hug Wyatt.

But oh, he’d been a solid wall of muscle, his body a hot furnace of steel that she wanted to climb onto and never let go of, once again reminding her of how incredibly lucky her sister had been.

He hadn’t hugged her back—not that she’d given him any time to. As soon as she realized what a bad move that had been, she’d taken a step back and said good-night. He hadn’t looked at her like she’d grown two heads or anything, but he hadn’t exactly been swept away and put his arms around her, either.

Then again, she wasn’t swayed by rejection. Wyatt had a big gaping hole in his heart from the way his marriage had ended, and it was about time he healed. She figured she was the right person to help him with that. The fact he’d been married to her sister didn’t factor in to her way of thinking.

And she’d been doing a lot of thinking about Wyatt, so while she was in her office doing financials, she heard the trucks pull up. She grabbed her jacket and walked outside.

Wyatt was there along with two other guys. She stayed out of sight and watched as he directed his employees.

If she thought he was gorgeous before, seeing him strip off his jacket and strap on a tool belt nearly made her knees buckle. There was something about a man who worked with his hands that was downright devastating to a woman’s libido—or at least her libido.

She walked over to him, and just seeing him put a giant smile on her face.

It was already noisy, his two laborers setting up the frame with hammer and nails. Wyatt was inside the small trailer he’d brought with him hitched to his truck. She stepped inside, knocking on the open door as she entered.

“Hey.”

He straightened, turned to her, frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking in to say hello. How’s it going?”

“It’s not going at all yet since we’re just getting started.”

He was good at pushing women away. Tori had told her he hadn’t dated at all since the divorce. It was time to put a stop to that.

“If you or the guys need anything, come on in to the center and the staff or I will fix you right up. There’s coffee or soda or—”

“We have everything we need right here.”

“Okay. I’ll let you get to work.”

He didn’t say anything, so she stepped out of the trailer and got back to doing her job. Other than listening to drilling and hammering, she mentally tuned him out. Kids were excellent for that. They commanded your attention and didn’t let you think of anything but them. By the time the last kid and the last of her employees left the center, it was six-thirty. She figured Wyatt and his crew would be long gone by then, but she was curious how much work they’d gotten done in a day, so she put on her jacket, closed and locked the doors and set the alarm, then headed around the corner to see what had been done.

It was dark, but the streetlight shed enough light on the project. They’d made a good start on the framing. She was impressed.

And Wyatt’s truck was still parked on the street, a light on inside the trailer. She went over and knocked on the door. No answer at first, then Wyatt opened the door, his typical frown on his face.

“What do you want?”

She stepped up and came inside. “I thought I’d stop by to take a look. You did a great job today.”

“Thanks.”

He stood there, arms folded. She skirted around him to see what he was working on at the table. “Are these the blueprints for the room?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

She leaned over the table. “Looks complicated.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I could never figure this out.”

His gaze met hers. “It’s not that hard. Look. This is the frame of the room. This is electrical…”

He outlined everything in the blueprint for her, not that she was paying attention. She was close to him and he smelled like sawdust and sweat, a lethal combination. She leaned closer and breathed him in, her shoulder brushing against his.

“Calliope.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

Fantasizing. “Trying to get a closer look. My prescription is old and I probably need to see an eye doctor to get new glasses, but I haven’t had time.” She bent closer to the blueprints—actually shifting closer to Wyatt.

“Any closer and you’re going to be on top of my desk.”

Wouldn’t that be fun? She wondered what Wyatt would do if she climbed on there? Would it give him ideas? She wished she had something sexier on—like a dress—instead of jeans covered in spilled chocolate milk and a sweatshirt baby Ryan had spit up on. Not an alluring ensemble at all.

Still, she wasn’t about to give up on him. She had her jacket zipped up to hide the spit-up and it was dark enough he might not notice the milk stain.

She turned around and leaned against the desk.

“Wyatt, do you ever date?”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Do you ever date? You know…women?”

Wyatt damn near swallowed his tongue. Where the hell had that come from? He’d thought she’d left and he could spend an hour or so going over the blueprints to make sure they were on track with this project. But then Calliope knocked on the door of the trailer, forced herself inside and then threw herself all over his blueprints, practically draping her body over him. Her scent drove him crazy. He was sure if he’d walk her through the outline of the project she’d be satisfied and leave.

Instead, her curls brushed his cheek, and her hip nudged his, and then she flipped around and leaned against his table, making him think thoughts he had no business thinking, like bending her over his drafting table.

Her green eyes mesmerized him, and then she asked him if he ever dated?

She was driving him out of his mind and it was only the first day of the project.

“Calliope…”

“No, really. I know we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but you don’t seem very happy.”

“Calliope, you need to leave.”

She didn’t look like she was going anywhere. She crossed her arms under her breasts. “Have you been out with anyone since you and Cassie divorced?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“That means no. Why not? It’s been three years.”

“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“No. Why, do you?”

He wished he did.

“If you don’t, we could go out.”

He had no idea what to make of this woman. She was like a bulldozer. “What?”

“You know, go out. That thing you do when you’re single.”

“I know what it means. Are you asking me out?”

“Well, I wasn’t, but sure. Would you like to go out with me?” She wasn’t teasing or playing a game with him. She was honest to God asking him on a date. And she was beautiful and made his palms sweat and she was Cassandra’s sister and no way in hell was he going anywhere near her.

“No.”

He figured it would crush her. Instead, she cocked a brow, brushed an errant curl away from her cheek and continued to stand firm. “Why not?”

“You know why not.”

She took a step forward. He took one back, but the trailer was small and there wasn’t much room. He bumped the wall. She moved forward again and he was reminded of playing checkers with his brothers. He was backed into a corner with no place to go, and if he moved, he was going to be jumped by his opponent.

He suddenly couldn’t remember why that was such a bad idea, especially when Calliope moved into him, tilted her head back and stared him down with her deep green eyes.

“I can’t believe a big tough guy like you is afraid of a little thing like me, Wyatt.” Then she stepped back, her gaze traveling halfway down and staring at the part of him she had no business staring at. When she lifted her gaze again, she grinned.

“I know you have balls in there. Why don’t you try and find them? When you do, it’s your turn to come ask me out.”

She stepped out of the trailer and shut the door behind her.

Wyatt had never been so confused, confounded and downright irritated with a woman in his entire life.

No balls, huh? A man didn’t take an insult like that from a woman.

He’d show her balls.

No, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t about to show Calliope anything, especially not his balls. If he was smart, he’d ignore her completely. She was his client, he’d been hired to do a job, and that was all he should do.

But no balls? He couldn’t let that one go.

No way in hell.

Chapter Four

“You told him he had no balls?”

Tori tilted her head back and laughed, making heads turn all around them.

Ensconced in the booth at Lodge by the Lake, their favorite outskirts-of-town restaurant, Calliope and Tori ate their dinner and had their weekly gossip and catch-up session.

“I did tell him that.”

Tori scooped up a forkful of pasta and slid it between her lips. A couple guys at the bar near their booth watched every bite Tori took. It always amused Calliope because Tori was gorgeous, with her flaming red hair and killer body. Men flocked to her, and Tori was immune. It was like she never even noticed men looking at her. Likely because she had the hots for Brody Kent, though Tori would never admit to it. She wasn’t sure why Tori wasn’t going all out for Brody. He was cover-of-a-magazine gorgeous, lean and sexy, and the two of them had combustible chemistry.

“So what did Wyatt say?” Tori asked.

“Nothing, because I never gave him the chance to respond. I just walked out of the trailer. That was four days ago and he and I haven’t spoken a word to each other since.”

Tori leaned back and took a long swallow of raspberry iced tea. “He’s avoiding you.”

Calliope nodded. “Like you wouldn’t believe. He doesn’t come inside the center at all, and whenever I pop outside to check on the progress of the addition, he ducks inside the trailer as if I caught him naked or something.”

“That’s great,” Tori said. “You’ve got him on the run now. He must really like you. If he didn’t care, he’d tell you to kiss his ass, or even worse, he’d ignore you, shrug his shoulders and go about his business. You’ve got him rattled, girl.”

Calliope pushed her plate to the side and sipped her soda. “I’d like to think so. The man is simply too uptight for his own good.”

“Don’t I know it. I’m the one who has to work with him every day. He needs to get laid in the worst way.”

Calliope sighed. “I’d love to be the one to take care of that for him.”

“I have no idea why anyone would want to poke that bear. Get him all riled up and who knows what could happen.”

Calliope knew exactly what. Her fantasies ran amok with the possibilities. “I can only imagine. If he hasn’t had a woman since my sister, he’s got all this pent-up passion inside just ready to explode.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Calliope grinned. “No clue, but won’t it be fun?”

After dinner and girl talk, Calliope and Tori parted ways. It was still early and the weather continued to be unseasonably warm, so Calliope took a drive around the lake.

And, okay, maybe she was checking to see if Wyatt was home, since his house was near the restaurant. She drove by his house, the one he’d built for him and Cassandra.

Technically this could be classified as stalking, but what the hell. It wasn’t like she was going to knock on his door. She loved his house.

It was a beautiful place nestled at the foot of the hills, surrounded by lush forest and the lake off to the left of the house. He’d built the house for him and Cassandra thinking they’d never have to move again. A two-story, it was big, rustic and gorgeous, with blue-and-gray trim and white gables.

Cassandra hated the house. She’d said it was too big, too remote. She hated the woods that backed up to the house, claimed it would draw wildlife.

Well, duh. That was the idea. Calliope could imagine watching deer while sitting on the back porch drinking coffee. How awesome would that be?

Their marriage had ended before the house had been finished. Wyatt had completed it anyway and moved in. She was surprised he hadn’t sold the place. It was kind of big for one person.

She’d never known two people more wrong for each other. But both had been so stubborn and determined to make it work. That relationship had failure stamped on it from the get go. They’d wanted different things out of life, but Cassie had wanted Wyatt, and Wyatt had been head over heels in love with Cassie, so they’d both been blind.

His truck was parked in the driveway, and the garage door was open. Wyatt was in the garage, and since he’d looked up when she drove by, there was no sense in pretending he hadn’t seen her. She pulled in behind his truck and got out.

He was under the hood of a pretty sweet muscle car—a Chevelle, maybe? It was some kind of Chevy. It was beaten up and had seen better days, but shades of its former glory could still be seen in the parts Wyatt was restoring. She didn’t know a whole lot about cars, but she knew a great engine when she saw it. He’d already dropped that in and was working on sanding a fender, his body once again sweaty, greasy and smelling like motor oil.

What a turn-on.

“This is nice. Is it yours?”

“No, I stole it. I work part-time for a chop shop.”

She leaned against the wall of the garage. “You’ve got a bit of the smartass in you, Wyatt.”

He lifted the safety glasses from his eyes and glared at her. “You stalking me, Calliope?”

“Maybe a little. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Thank God you finally noticed.” He grabbed his can of beer and emptied it in three swallows.

Undeterred, she followed him into the house.

For a big place, it was ridiculously devoid of furniture. Sofa and chair in the living room, big-screen television and that was it. Small kitchen table with two chairs. Everything looked garage-sale quality.

He went into the kitchen and grabbed another beer. Just one.

“I’d love one. Thanks for offering.”

He frowned, then grabbed another and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She popped the top off her beer, waiting to see if he’d head back out in the garage. He didn’t, instead took a couple long swallows and leaned against the counter, so she grabbed a stool at the bar and opened her beer, sipped and swiveled around to take a look at the house.

It was stunning despite the lack of furniture. High ceilings with natural wood beams. Tile and pale wood floors. Rustic, charming, and though it needed a few rugs and some decent furniture, it looked as though it had been made with a man’s handcrafted expertise—someone who had taken their time and used a keen eye for detail, from the carefully constructed stone fireplace to the cornice at the bottom of the staircase.

She swiveled back around to find Wyatt staring at her.

“The house is amazing, Wyatt. Can I see all of it?”

“Why?”

“Because if it’s anything like the family room, it takes my breath away.”

Wyatt didn’t want Calliope to like the house. He didn’t want to show her the house. But dammit, something inside him made him push off the counter and start walking.

She followed silently, murmuring her appreciation as they went.

Somewhere along the way she’d shed her coat. She wore a sweater that clung to her body, outlining her spectacular breasts, and jeans that looked like they’d been painted on. He was going to try really hard not to notice that, though he supposed it was already too late.

Concentrate on the house. She only wanted to see the house. Quick tour and she’d be out of there.

Only it wasn’t a quick tour, because she’d pause occasionally to run her fingers along the wainscoting, an exposed beam or a doorknob—small touches he’d put some thought or effort into that Cassandra had never noticed.

Never appreciated.

Calliope noticed. Appreciated.

Something inside him clenched as she paused at the stairs and inspected the way the wood wrapped around itself. It had taken him weeks to do that staircase. He’d wanted something elegant, yet sturdy, something beautiful that Cassandra would appreciate, yet stairs that would stand the test of time—and maybe a houseful of kids.

Cassandra had blown right by the stairs and never said a word.

“It’s like music,” Calliope whispered, her fingers a light caress over the wood. Her gaze met his, and her lips lifted. “It’s amazing, Wyatt. You must have spent months on this.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he turned away and headed up, listening to the sound of her feet behind him.

The master bedroom was the only place he’d spent any money on, furniture-wise, since by the time he’d finished the house he and Cassandra were already divorced. He’d bought a big bed since he was a big guy, a double thick mattress and he’d made the headboard and footboard himself, grinding out his anger and frustration by creating the scrolled patterns in the wood.

Calliope leaned over and traced the pattern with her fingertips.

“This is beautiful. And the bed is so big.” She turned to him and arched a brow. “For your harem of women?”

“Funny.”

She wandered into the bathroom and gasped. “Oh my God. I’m moving in tonight and living in your bathroom.”

He couldn’t resist the smile as he entered the doorway and leaned against it.

“A tub made for four people. With whirlpool jets. And that decadent shower—Wyatt, that’s just dirty and sexy. I want to get naked and get in there right now.”

She was making his dick hard with that kind of talk and the corresponding visuals. He could already imagine her naked, the jets from all four showerheads spraying her, steam enveloping them both as he put his hands and his mouth all over her body…

Yeah. That train of thought had to stop. He turned around and left the room and started some complex algebra so his hard-on would go away.

He breathed in and out as he reached the top of the stairway.

“I always wanted to live in a big house,” she said, grasping the railing in the sitting area at the top of the stairs. “I used to pretend I was a commoner—which I was, of course. That I was forced into servitude, but someday I’d meet a prince and he’d fall madly in love with me and carry me away to his huge castle where we’d marry and have children and live happily ever after.”

When he didn’t say anything, she turned to him and laughed, then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I was a big fan of Cinderella.”

“Obviously.”

“And of course you’ve seen the house I grew up in. It wasn’t exactly a castle.”

Yeah, he had seen the house. It was a two-bedroom, about a thousand square feet. Small, built in the fifties. Calliope’s parents still lived in the same house they bought when they were first married—the house her grandparents used to own.

“My mom and dad never had a lot of money, but we had love and a sense of family. It was always enough.”

“For you, maybe.” Not for Cassandra. She’d always bitched about wanting to get away from that cracker-box house, how much she’d hated it and how confined she’d felt living there. He’d often wondered if she spent so much time at his house—and with him—more as an escape than because she really cared about him.

He wondered about a lot of things. Like why he’d built this huge house with everything Cassandra could have wanted—and she’d hated it anyway.

Calliope must have sensed his thoughts, because she laid her hand on his arm. “You can’t change the past, Wyatt. You have to let it go.”

“Yeah, well, it won’t let go of me.”

She pushed off the railing and moved in front of him. “Maybe you don’t distract yourself enough. Put something in your head besides my big sister.”

“Like what? Her little sister? That’s a little too close to home for me.”

She tilted her head back, and instead of anger he saw the same bright-eyed smile she always wore.

“You need to separate me from Cassandra. I’m not her.”

No, she wasn’t. Cassandra always pouted. She was never happy, was always moody and the slightest thing would set her off.

Wyatt had been nothing but rude to Calliope. So far, she’d been nothing but sweet to him.

He brushed his fingers across her cheek. “You can’t be real.”

She inhaled, her breasts rising. “I am real. And it’s about damn time you noticed me.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed you plenty.”

Her lips curved. “Have you? How?”

“I notice you’re driving me crazy.”

“Again. How?”

The invitation was obvious. One step and she’d be in his arms. He wanted to taste her so badly he licked his lips. Her gaze drifted to his mouth, then back to meet his eyes. The tightening in his jeans was almost unbearable.

It had been a really long damn time since he’d been with a woman. Hell, since he’d kissed a woman or touched one.

This woman in particular made him crazy.

And she was the wrong woman.

He took a step back instead of forward. “I need to get back to the car.”

He caught the flicker of disappointment before she replaced it with a smile. He’d hurt her and he hadn’t meant to. But he couldn’t be what she wanted. He wasn’t the man for her. She needed someone with an open heart, someone who’d appreciate her and be able to love her. Someone who wasn’t damaged and bitter.

That wasn’t him.

“Calliope.”

“It’s okay. I need to get home anyway.”

They headed downstairs. She grabbed her jacket from the counter and slid into it. If he were a gentleman he would have helped her with it.

He didn’t feel much like a gentleman right now, and if he got too close to her she wouldn’t be leaving his house tonight. He’d have her naked and in that shower so fast her head would spin. And after he worked out some of the boiling tension tightening his insides, he’d never see her again.

Yeah, not the right guy for her.

He adjusted his jeans and followed her out into the garage. She turned around to face him, and he took that step back again.

She noticed, and her lips curved.

“I’ll see you later.”

It wasn’t until she got into her car and pulled out of his driveway that he realized he’d been holding his breath. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted her to be gone, or because he was waiting for her to turn around and come back.

He exhaled on a curse, then dragged his fingers through his hair and turned to face the car. He picked up the sandpaper, determined to take out his sexual frustration on the fender.

Chapter Five

The weather turned abruptly, their strange late November warmth obliterated by dark clouds and sharp wind that seemed to cut right through thick layers of clothing and heavy coats. The threat of snow hung in the air, and Calliope wondered how much work would be done on the addition before the bad weather moved in.

Wyatt and his guys had the framing finished, and had spent the past few days putting the roof on. Once that was done, the sheetrock would be next. Calliope hoped they’d get it all completed before it started to snow.

She’d already had to relocate the kids’ playroom to another section so Wyatt could cut the hole in the existing wall to make the doorway, and for safety’s sake the existing playroom was off limits until the project was completed. That meant they were crammed in like sardines in the other playroom. Not too bad when the weather was warmer and her staff could take the kids outside to run off some of that pent-up energy. Once it snowed, though, they’d all be stuck indoors together.

She wasn’t looking forward to that.

Marcy was sick today, which meant Calliope was in charge of the three-year-olds. She had them out in the play yard right now, a perfect location to let her watch Wyatt and his guys as they put up drywall.

The wind was blustery. She pulled her hat down to cover her eyes. The kids bounced around and squealed with joy. She was freezing. Wind was blowing out of the north and seemed to cut right through her jeans.

Where had that nice touch of sixty-degree weather gone? She wanted that back. Didn’t seem to bother Wyatt, though, who worked on the roof in a short-sleeved shirt. Just the thought of it added goose bumps to her goose bumps.

She wished she had the time to lean over the fence and watch him, but not only did she have to keep her eyes on the kids, he and his guys almost had the roof finished and would be going inside soon, so she’d lose sight of him.

Too bad. She did enjoy looking at him.

“Miss Calliope, Jeffrey won’t share the teeter-totter with me.”

She glanced down at Lawrence’s freckled face and smiled. “He won’t, huh?”

Lawrence shook his head.

She slipped her hand in his. “Let’s go see about that, shall we?”

Wyatt took a long swallow from his jug of water, trying not to watch Calliope with the kids.

It was hard not to be utterly taken in by the way she corralled a group of fifteen toddlers who couldn’t be more than three or four years old. The kids were rambunctious, screaming and running wild on the playground. Yet when she bent down and called a couple of them over, she had their rapt attention. She didn’t raise her voice, always smiled—like she did with him.

And she played with them. She didn’t stand around and supervise. She ran around the yard with them, she climbed on the equipment, and she squealed as loud as they did. When they tackled her and she fell, she laughed, then got up and chased them until they were giggling.

He’d bet they’d all take great naps today.

Calliope obviously loved her work. Though it didn’t appear to be work to her. It was clear she loved the kids, that it was more than a job to her.

Night and day difference from her sister. Cassandra had treated children like they all had communicable diseases. She’d wanted nothing to do with them, though he hadn’t known that when they’d gotten married.

They’d wanted so many different things. How could he have not seen it?

Enough. He pushed Cassandra away, which was getting easier than it used to be.

He was going to have to go inside the center to start work from the existing playroom into the newly constructed doorway, which meant avoiding Calliope wasn’t going to be an option.

He rang the bell at the front door. Beth the Bouncer, as he’d gotten used to calling her, opened the door and glared at him.

“I need to get to the playroom.”

She opened the door. “Stay on the plastic runner so you don’t spread that dust all over the floors.”

He found himself smiling at her brusque tone. It reminded him of himself. “Yes, ma’am.”

Kids were stuffed into the entryway, and stopped to gape at him.

“Who are you?” one little boy asked. He had dark curly hair and green eyes, with glasses. If Calliope had a son he’d probably look just like that.

He squatted down. “I’m Wyatt. I’m building a new room on to this place.”

“You have hammers and stuff?”

“I do.”

A little girl came up beside him. “You’re dirty. Miss Beth will make you wash up before you come inside.”

Wyatt lifted his gaze to Beth, who fought a smirk.

“And you’d better clean off your shoes, too,” another little boy said.

“Miss Calliope doesn’t care if you’re dirty. She likes dirt.”

“She gets dirty, too. She even plays in the mud with us.”

A lot of giggles, then they ran off, his novelty wearing off. He straightened and walked down the hall. He caught sight of Calliope in another room with a handful of kids. She was on the floor playing with blocks. She looked up, pushed her glasses up, smiled and waved at him.

He couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips or the involuntary wave back.

Or the warmth that filled him at seeing the way her eyes lit up when she saw him.

So she was Cassandra’s sister. So what? She was obviously attracted to him, and God knew he wanted her in a way that defied all logic or reason.

Then again, was it illogical or unreasonable to want to be with a woman who was positive, bubbly, friendly and obviously loved kids? Wasn’t Calliope the kind of woman he’d wanted all along, before he’d been seduced by the dazzling beauty of her sister?

Was that what he was afraid of—that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree? She didn’t seem at all like Cassandra—a one-eighty from her sister, in fact. Cassandra wouldn’t be caught dead with muddy handprints on her jeans, or chalk on her face. She wouldn’t spend five minutes of her day sitting on the floor coloring or reading a book to a bunch of three-year-olds. Getting dirty hadn’t been on Cassandra’s list of fun things to do at all.

He’d like to get dirty with Calliope. The thought of it had him hard and sweating, despite the dropping temperatures.

He’d let fear and failure rule him for so long he’d forgotten all the fundamentals. Like how to treat a woman. How to ask someone out on a date. How to let attraction take over and just go with it.

Why couldn’t Calliope be a woman he’d met at random? That would make this a lot easier, because every time he looked at her, he made the connection to Cassandra, and then the big bad of his past kept rushing back to him.

Which was all in his head and not in reality. Calliope had nothing to do with the failure of his marriage. Maybe it was time to separate the sisters, think of Calliope as an individual and give himself a freakin’ break.

But first he had to work. He focused his attention on the sheetrock and let Calliope slide to the background for a while.

Hours later, his crew had gone home and he was still in the center when he decided to call it quits for the night. The sheetrock had been finished. His crew had put up tarp on the outside to make sure any bad weather wouldn’t ruin the work they’d done.

Wyatt walked into the adjoining room on his way out the door, stopping dead at the window.

It was dark outside—and snowing like crazy. From his guess, there was a foot on the ground already. He grabbed his phone. 8:00 p.m. No wonder his stomach had been growling.

Damn, where had his head been, and why hadn’t Calliope come to tell him she needed to close up the center?

He saw a light on in her office so headed there.

Her back was turned as she studied her computer, furiously clacking the keys.

“You’re still here.”

She jumped, then swiveled in her chair. “Wyatt, you scared me to death. It was so quiet in here, and I saw you were still working after everyone left, so I decided to leave you alone.”

He leaned against the doorjamb. “You could have said something to me.”

She shrugged and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I had reports to do anyway. I didn’t mind working late.”

“There’s a foot of snow on the ground.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?” She got up and swiveled open the blinds in her office. “Wow. I knew it looked like it might snow earlier. Had no idea it was going to come down so hard so fast.”

Now was his chance to not be an asshole for once. “Have you eaten?”

She lifted up a package of half-eaten peanut butter crackers. “A snack. How about you?”

“No.”

“You’re probably ready to get out of here then. I’ve locked the front door with the keys. I’ll let you out.” She grabbed the keys.

“You aren’t leaving?”

She stopped in front of him at the doorway. “Yes, but I need to shut the computer down and grab my stuff.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll wait. Go shut down and grab your coat.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She went back to her desk, bent over her computer. He enjoyed the view of her butt as she did. She folded her crackers, slid them into the drawer and grabbed her coat, bag and keys.

“I need to turn off some lights around here, then I’ll be ready.”

He followed her around as she turned off the lights, checked doors to be sure they were locked and went to the front door. He grabbed her coat and held it out for her this time. She gave him a look as she slid her arms into it.

“Better zip it up. Winds are howling.”

She did, offering him up a smile. “Thanks.”

“Don’t you have a hat and gloves?”

“Yes. In my car.”

He shook his head, threw on his coat, then slipped his knit cap over her head and handed her his gloves. “Put those on.”

She looked down at the gloves, then at him. “But what about you?”

He cracked a smile. “I’m a pretty tough guy. I think I can handle it.”

Wyatt was being nice to her? That was a change. Calliope didn’t know what had come over him, but she wasn’t going to question this rare gift of him in a good mood.

She slipped the gloves on, giggling as they flopped in her hands since they were three sizes too big for her. She squeezed her fingers in them to keep them on while Wyatt pulled the door open.

The wind slammed them hard, tossing snow inside and knocking Calliope against him. He put his hand against her back to steady her.

“Wow, that’s some storm,” she said.

Wyatt took her keys, pulled the door shut and locked it, then put his arm around her and helped her down the stairs. She really wished she’d brought her boots in from the car, but she hadn’t expected an epic snowstorm. Now, snow slid into her socks and tennis shoes and she shivered.

It was hard to walk—at least for her. Wyatt had work boots on and had no problem. He grabbed her arm and led her to the street where her small car was buried.

She looked at the car. “Well, this will take some work. I have a shovel in the trunk.”

“You aren’t driving. We’ll take my truck.”

Snow had already covered his hair. It was coming down so fast she couldn’t even see, and she wasn’t about to argue with him. He led her over to the side street where his truck was parked. The effort to get there exhausted her. By the time he opened up the side door and helped her get in, her jeans and feet were soaked and freezing and she was shivering so hard her teeth chattered.

He turned on the truck’s engine and hit the heaters full blast, then went back outside with a scraper to clean off the windows while she stayed inside. Her feet and ankles stung from the cold.

She should have handed him his hat and gloves back. The temperatures had dropped outside and he was doing the work bare-handed and without a hat. He must be freezing.

He climbed back in and looked at her. “Put your seatbelt on.”

She did, noting his red hands. “You should have taken my gloves.”

“I’m fine. I’m used to working outside in all kinds of weather.”

He put the car in gear and pulled carefully away from the curb. The truck tried to fishtail, but Wyatt controlled it. The roads were hazardous, the snow thick and coming down so hard that even the windshield wipers on full blast couldn’t clear the whiteout conditions enough to see clearly.

Calliope sat quietly and let Wyatt concentrate on the road. He made the right turn and headed down the narrow street. She was glad her house was only a couple blocks from the center, and even making it that far was treacherous driving. There were no other cars on the road. This was a bad storm. He pulled into her driveway and she was glad it wasn’t uphill.

“Got your keys ready?” he asked when he turned the engine off.

She’d already tugged the gloves off and handed them back to Wyatt. “In my hand.”

Wyatt snagged the keys from her. “I’ll open the door. You put the gloves back on. And don’t get out of the car until I come over to your side to get you. You don’t have boots on.”

“You’re coming in with me, aren’t you? The roads are really bad out there.”

He gave her one of those “You’re kidding me, right?” looks that guys gave women sometimes when women thought men couldn’t do something—like climb a mountain. “My truck is four-wheel drive. I can make it.”

But she’d still worry like crazy about him being on the road. “I’ll make soup.”

“You’re on.”

She grinned and waited for him to come around and open the door for her, instantly shivering again as the cold blast of air, sleet and snow smacked her body. They made a mad dash for her front door—as much of a dash as two people could make in snow that deep. Wyatt unlocked the door and they rushed inside. He pushed the door shut and locked it.

She shuddered against the cold and stripped off the hat and her coat, then toed out of her soaked tennis shoes. “I need to change clothes.”

Wyatt stood on her front hall rug and did his best impression of a snowman. “I’m just going to stand here and defrost.”

She laughed. “You are not. Take your coat off and come into the kitchen. After I change clothes I’ll make us some coffee and get started on that soup.”

She ran into her bedroom and pulled off her wet clothes, grabbed some sweats and dry socks, then made a quick stop in the bathroom to check herself in the mirror.

Oh, ugh. She cleaned the wet spots off her glasses, but otherwise there wasn’t much hope for her wet hair, and she didn’t think Wyatt would appreciate her taking the time to shower and put on some makeup. He likely wanted some coffee and homemade soup, not a glamour girl.

She fluffed her wet curls as best as she could, stuck her feet into slippers and went into the kitchen.

She inhaled when she walked in. “I smell coffee.”

“I raided your cabinets and made myself at home.”

Her stomach flipped in a decidedly warm way. “I’m glad. Sorry it took me so long.”

“It didn’t. I don’t think you need to wait on me when I’m perfectly capable of making a pot of coffee.”

He poured her a cup. She reached into the fridge. “Cream?”

“Yeah.”

“How about sugar?”

“No, thanks.”

She grabbed the sugar bowl on the kitchen table and scooped a spoonful into her cup, stirred and watched him.

There were never men in her kitchen. She dated on occasion, but never invited them home and sure as hell didn’t have them in her kitchen making coffee for her.

Seeing Wyatt, his tall, lean body relaxing against her counters, was a little disconcerting. He was so big and her kitchen was small.

And speaking of the kitchen…

She took a swallow of coffee, then set it aside. “Let me get started on that soup I promised.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

She bent down to grab her soup pot and grinned up at him. “Sure I do. I’m starving.” She put the pot on her stove, then went to the freezer to dig out the chicken stock she was so glad she had on hand.

She put the container in the microwave to defrost, then opened the refrigerator, also happy she’d gone to the grocery store yesterday.

“What can I do to help?”

“How are you with a knife?”

He went to the sink and rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands. “Expert.”

“Good.” She laid celery and carrots on the cutting board. “Start slicing.”

While he got busy with that, she tossed the chicken in the stock, added a little garlic and ginger and a few more spices. Soon the soup was bubbly and thick and she put a loaf of bread in the oven to heat up, then added the carrots and celery Wyatt had sliced.

She had a few minutes to rest while the soup simmered and the bread cooked, so she refilled her coffee. Wyatt was sitting at her table, one she’d found at a garage sale.

“You rent this house?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’m a homeowner.”

He arched a brow. “Really. This and the day care center.”

“Well, this place is tiny. Only a one-bedroom. But it’s a house and it’s what I wanted when I moved here.”

“Why not an apartment? I mean, you’re young and single. I would think a condo or apartment would suit you better.”

“That’s just pissing money away every month.”

He laughed. “A lot of young people do that.”

She took a sip of coffee. “You make it sound like I’m sixteen and you’re my dad. I’m twenty-six and I wanted the investment. I bought this little cracker box of a house because it was all I could afford. When my grandmother died and left half her money to me, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it—invest it in the day care center.

“But I also wanted a house. I didn’t want to throw money away every month on an apartment. I found this place. It was so small, but what else did I need? I’m single, have no kids, no husband, no boyfriend. So as an initial investment it was perfect.”

He was staring at her with that unfathomable expression on his face that told her nothing of what he was thinking.

“What?”

“You surprise me.”

She turned to stir the soup. “Yeah? In what way?”

“I always think of you as being a kid. But you’re not. You’re all grown-up.”

“I’ve been a grown-up for a long time now, Wyatt. Maybe it’s past time you realized that.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

She felt his gaze on her, but didn’t turn around. He could just simmer on what she’d said.

The soup and bread were ready, so she served it up and they ate, drank, and what was most surprising of all—they actually talked.

Wyatt told her about the progress on the room addition at the center, as well as other ongoing projects their construction company had going. She could tell he really loved his family business, even though his brothers seemed to irritate him.

“I understand familial relationships,” she said as they moved from the kitchen to her living room after they finished eating. She had poured them a snifter of her favorite winter naughty indulgence—brandy. Maybe she could get him drunk and take advantage of him. “Families can test you under the best circumstances, but underneath I know you love your brothers.”

He nodded and swirled the brandy around the glass. “They try my patience—I’m sure on purpose at least half the time. Brody likes to tease and Ethan eggs him on. The two of them gang up on me.”

“Most likely to irritate you on purpose because you’re so naturally cranky.”

He tilted the glass in her direction. “People who throw those kinds of words at me generally live to regret them.”

She leaned back against the sofa and grinned at him. “Good thing I know your bark is way worse than your bite.”

“Are you sure about that? I haven’t bitten you—yet.”

Whoa. Where had that come from? It had been a bonafide sexual come-on, and Calliope nearly self-combusted right there. Heat flared through every part of her. The whole room seemed to go up in flames, or maybe that was just her, and likely because of the way Wyatt’s gaze burned into her. Her nipples tightened and everything that was female in her shouted for joy.

Usually never at a loss for words, she had no idea what to say.

Wyatt downed the brandy, then stood. “Well, I should go.”

She shot off the sofa. “What? Are you insane? There’s two feet of snow out there. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

He arched a brow. “You thinking of holding me prisoner here?”

“I might if you come up with another dumbass idea, like trying to drive in that.”

“It’ll still be there tomorrow morning, Calliope.”

“By tomorrow the road crews will have been out all night, spreading salt and plowing. The streets will be in more decent shape than they are right now. What if you get stuck getting back home? It’s not like you’ll have an easy time getting a tow tonight. I’m sure there are a lot of cars getting stuck.”

He gave her a dubious look. “We don’t live in a major city. I can call Roger. He owns one of the two wreckers in town to give me a pull.”

She crossed her arms. “Or you can use some common sense and not be one of those idiots on the road tonight.”

“I think you’re trying to keep me here for your own nefarious purposes.”

She laughed. “Yeah, all one hundred thirty pounds of me, plotting devious things against all—” she looked him over, “—two-ten of you?”

“Two-twenty-five.”

“So you’re nearly twice my weight. I’m sure I could pounce on you and take you down.”

She saw his jaw clench.

“You could try.”

“I could, couldn’t I?”

It sure was warm in here, and the sexual innuendos were flying around the room like crazed bats. She supposed she could cut to the chase, but it sure would be nice if Wyatt came after her for a change. She was tired of being the one doing the chasing.

He finally settled back down on the sofa. “I’d rather you stop calling me an idiot.”

“Since you’re sitting and obviously staying, I’ll refrain from further insults as to your state of mind.” She grabbed his empty glass. “How about a refill?”

“Got any beer? That shit’s too sweet.”

“Sure.” She refilled her glass while she was in there, handed him the beer and slid back onto the sofa, pulling her legs up behind her.

“Would you like to watch television?”

“Not much of a TV watcher.”

“Neither am I.”

He studied her. She pushed her glasses up.

“What do you do at night?” he asked.

“I read. I’m usually so exhausted by the time I get home, I eat dinner, take a hot bath and soak for a while, then curl up with a good book and generally pass out early.”

“Kids are exhausting, huh?”

She laughed. “They can be.”

“What made you decide to open a day care center?”

“That’s easy. I love children. Always have, ever since I got my first babysitting job as a teenager. I knew then that I wanted to do something with kids.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “Why not become a teacher?”

“I do have a degree in early childhood education, thought about becoming a teacher, but the little ones wrap me around their fingers and don’t let go. I worked at a lot of day care centers while I was in college, and my career naturally progressed in this direction. I apprenticed under a director near my college, and worked as a director at one in Nebraska for a couple years. When the opportunity came up to buy out Miss Bettie, I leaped on it because I could own my own business, and it gave me a chance to come home.”

“It’s a lot of work.”

She nodded. “It is, but it’s so rewarding. The staff is amazing, and I feel like I’m doing something important. I can’t imagine how worried these parents are, having to leave their little ones while they go off to work. I like to think I can ease their minds a little, knowing their babies are being well taken care of.”

He took a long swallow of beer. She liked watching the way his throat worked, liked the beard stubble on his jaw, wondered what that would feel like on her face—and other parts of her body.

Again, that abrupt flash of heat scored her from the inside out.

She really should stop thinking of sex, especially sex with Wyatt. Especially when Wyatt sat less than a foot away from her. His fear that she might pounce on him? Not too far from the truth.

He laid his empty beer can on the table. She got up.

“I’ll get you another.”

He grabbed her hand. “I know where your fridge is. I can get myself another beer if I want one. You don’t have to wait on me.”

“I don’t mind.”

He released her hand and she hurried into the kitchen. What she really needed was a minute or two to catch her breath. She opened the refrigerator, letting the cool air bathe her face. She took a deep breath to calm down her riotous libido.

Geez, Calliope. You aren’t sixteen anymore. Get a grip.

She stood, closed the door and turned around, then gasped when she found Wyatt standing right there.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Wondering what the hell you’re doing. Hell of a time to take inventory of the fridge, don’t you think?”

“Oh. Uh. That wasn’t what I was doing.”

He placed his palm on the refrigerator door, right next to her shoulder. “Yeah? What were you doing?”

“Looking for this, of course.” She handed him the beer.

He took it from her. “You’re a little odd, Calliope.”

“I prefer quirky.” She skirted around him and headed back into the living room, conscious of him right on her heels.

Wasn’t this what she wanted? Him going after her?

So why was she suddenly so skittish?

Likely because she was out of practice. It wasn’t like she had a parade of men chasing after her. Going after Wyatt was one thing, because she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to take the bait.

Now that he seemed interested? Yeah, that was another story.

He was a lot of man. Could she handle him?

She blew out a breath and stared at the brandy.

“Calliope.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “Yes?”

“Would you like me to take off?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want you to leave.”

“This is uncomfortable for you. For me, too.”

Damn. She’d screwed it up. She’d hesitated. But she wasn’t a quitter. She leaned forward. “I’m not used to having men over.”

“Ever?”

“Uh…no.” She’d never brought a guy to her house. It was too…intimate. Of course she’d had sex at college, and there had been Steve’s apartment. Then there was that one time at the motel with Bobby. But no, she’d never brought a man here. She’d never had a long-term relationship because no guy had been…keepable.

“So you’re a virgin.”

Her head shot up. “I am not.”

His lips quirked. “Yeah, I can tell you’re full of experience.” He got up and went into the kitchen.

Irritated now, she followed. “You can’t tell anything about my…experience.”

He tossed his empty beer can in the trash, then turned to face her. “Honey, you’re like a lamb facing down a wolf.”

She quirked a brow. “And you’re the big bad wolf, I suppose?”

He grinned. “You got it.”

“You think I can’t handle you?”

“I know you can’t handle me.”

“Try me.”

He laughed and moved past her. “I don’t think so.”

Now she was pissed. He was treating her like a child. “You prefer more experienced women.”

“I don’t want any woman.”

“You lie. Ever since we met up again you’ve been dancing around your attraction to me. But because I’m Cassie’s sister, you’ve held back because you’ve got some screwed-up notion that we’re one and the same.”

He looked her up and down, his gaze raking over her body. “Calliope, you are nothing like Cassandra. Not in appearance, not in actions, not in any way.”

She knew how he felt about Cassie. It wasn’t an insult.

“So you’ve given up trying to compare me to my sister.”

He held up his hands. “Throwing the white flag on that one. You win.”

Her lips curved. “I don’t know about that, Wyatt. Seems to me we both win. So why not take what you want—what we both want—and quit fighting it?”

Her heart pounded as she stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips. Only a few feet of distance separated them, but she wasn’t going to cross that distance. If he wanted her—and she knew damn well he did—he was going to have to bridge the gap.

He stared her down. He was mad, whether at her or himself she didn’t know. Frankly, she didn’t care. It was now or never because she wouldn’t ask him again.

He came to her in two fast strides and jerked her into his arms.

And then he hesitated, his lips just inches from hers.

Don’t walk away. Not again.

His gaze bored into hers and she nearly melted to the floorboards. She knew from the smoldering look in his eyes that he wasn’t walking away this time. When his mouth came down on hers, the first contact of his lips stole her breath.

She went up in flames and her body exploded in a wildfire of heat.

Chapter Six

There was nothing gentle about this kiss. This was no sweet seduction. It was a full-on siege. Wyatt wrapped his arms around her, one hand gravitating to her butt to draw her against his erection. Calliope shuddered at the feel of him, so hard and ready as he plundered her lips. He slid his tongue inside and she moaned, arched against him, slid her hand in his hair and held on while his tongue played with hers.

She was lightheaded as sensations pounded at her. The softness of his lips warred with the scrape of his beard against her face and the steely hardness of his body as he moved against her. And when he cupped her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple, she whimpered at the sheer pleasure of it.

He pulled his mouth from hers, his eyes dark and full of hunger.

“Say no.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Tell me to go.”

“No.”

He backed away. She grabbed his arms. “That’s not what I meant. Don’t go.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “If I don’t leave now, I’m not leaving until morning.”

She was panting, her breasts painfully full, her sex throbbing with need for him, and he wanted to have this discussion now?

“That’s the general idea, Wyatt.”

“If I stay tonight, I’m sleeping in your bed. With you.”

She resisted the urge to suggest they likely wouldn’t be sleeping much, instead stayed silent, her chest heaving with the force of her breaths. “Can we get back to the kissing part? I really like the way you kiss me.”

“I just wanted you to be sure.”

“I’m sure. And thanks. Now kiss me.”

The smile he gave her was the kind any sane woman would call dangerous. He pulled her glasses off and set them down, put his hand on the nape of her neck and drew her close.

He hovered, his lips just an inch from hers. “You make me crazy, Calliope.”

She palmed his chest. “Trust me. The feeling is mutual.”

And then their lips touched again, and it was like a burst of fireworks. Wow, he really could kiss. Wyatt was formidable, no doubt about that. Her toes curled, her legs felt like jelly, and she was damn glad he had all that muscle in his frame to hold her up, because she sank against him, sighing against his lips as he overpowered her with his sheer masculinity. She breathed him in, the scent of outdoors, brandy and beer mingling together.

When he lifted her in his arms—and she was no lightweight—she felt small and feminine, and decided she liked that sensation.

He moved down the hall and bent to open her bedroom door, found the light switch and flipped it on, then settled her in the middle of her bed, coming down on top of her, his mouth taking hers again in a kiss that made her writhe with impatience. She wanted clothes off, needed to feel his bare skin against hers. She reached between them, pulling at his shirt.

He lifted, straddling her, and unbuttoned his shirt. She laid her hands on his thighs and watched as he pulled the flannel shirt off and the T-shirt underneath, leaving his torso bare.

She sucked in a breath. Wide shoulders, well-muscled chest and arms, and flat, washboard abs, not from time spent at the gym, she imagined, but from honest-to-God labor. She snaked her hands along his stomach and farther down, where a soft line of hair disappeared into his jeans. She reached for his belt buckle but he snatched her hands away and placed them on the bed.

“But you’re not naked yet.”

“I’ll get there.” He lifted her sweatshirt over her stomach, leaned down and pressed a kiss to her belly.

His lips on her skin were just as flame-inducing as his kisses. She wondered if spontaneous combustion was possible. She’d really hate to set him on fire, especially before they had sex. But seeing his mouth on her stomach as he gradually lifted her shirt and mapped his way north made her heart pound so hard she was sure he could hear it. She knew he had to feel it, because it ricocheted throughout her body.

“Lift,” he said, and she arched enough so he could pull the shirt over her head.

His lips curved, and he laid his hand over one of her breasts, covered only by the flimsy, discount-store purchased bra. Dammit, if she’d known she was going to have sex with Wyatt tonight she’d have put her more expensive lingerie on. She made a mental note to drag out the hot lingerie, so she’d be prepared for future events. And there would be future events, because every touch of his fingers and hands to her body was like she’d never been touched before. Her nipples peaked and hardened while she panted like the woman in heat she was. He brushed a thumb over the bra and she arched against him.

“Tell me what you want.”

She lifted her gaze to his, saw the intensity, the hunger and need there. Yup. He was going to set her on fire before the night was over. “I want your hands and your mouth on me.”

He reached under her and lifted her, undid the clasp in an instant and drew the straps down her shoulders, then laid her back down. He stared at her, not moving to touch her.

“You’re beautiful, Calliope.”

A heated flush spread over her body as he continued to look down on her like she was some goddess or something. She’d never thought herself particularly breathtaking, but she wasn’t hideous, either. She was pretty in an average sort of way. She kept her body in shape—God knew running after kids burned a lot of calories. But her sister was the real beauty in the family, and Wyatt had been married to her.

Yet as his gaze burned into hers and she saw the lust in his eyes, the pure male appreciation, she knew then he wasn’t comparing her to Cassandra. The desire he felt was for her.

She reached up and swept her hand across his jaw, tingling at the sensation of his beard tickling her palm.

“I think you’re pretty hot, too, Wyatt.”

He cupped her breast, then bent and took a nipple in his mouth. She sighed at the sheer pleasure of it, watched as he sucked her nipple, licked it, teased it with his tongue. Sensation shot south and she bit down on her lip to keep from whimpering. It had been an embarrassingly long time since she’d been with a guy.

Boys, really. That’s what they’d been, while Wyatt was a man. A man who knew his way around a woman’s body. A man with infinite patience. This wasn’t about quickly stripping her clothes off so he could get right to the action. He worshipped her body, licking her nipples, teasing her into an absolute frenzy of passion until she was mindless, breathless and writhing without shame.

And when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he kissed her, so deeply and passionately she forgot all about getting right to the action. She lost herself in the taste of him, the different textures of his face. She reached up to touch the softness of his lips, the scratchiness along his jaw line, and the silkiness of his hair as she threaded her fingers through the strands to hold on for dear life while he fondled her breasts and kissed her until she lost all sense of time.

Only then did he caress his fingers along her ribs and stomach and make his way to her jeans, releasing the button effortlessly and drawing the zipper down in a way she found ridiculously sexy.

He didn’t even bother taking her jeans off, just dove his hand inside and cupped the center of her, drawing out a low moan she couldn’t contain. She was hot, wet and ready—had been for weeks now. She strained, lifted against his touch, meeting his gaze as release found her and he took her mouth, absorbing her cries.

He held her as she settled, then her jeans came off, her panties, and he moved down her body, put his mouth on her and amped her up all over again.

She’d never known a man like him before, so eager to please when she knew it had been a long time for him, too. But she lost herself in what he was doing to her, and after he gave her a second climax, she was limp.

When he climbed off the bed and shucked his jeans and boxer briefs, she rolled over on her side and sucked in her lower lip between her teeth, studying the utter beauty of his body. She rolled over and pulled a box of condoms out of the nightstand.

He arched a brow. “Have men coming and going regularly?”

She laughed. “Ha. Never. But I was hopeful about you so I figured I should be prepared.”

He put his hand on his hips, and lord, he was magnificent. Powerful, hard and beautiful. She pulled a condom out of the box and he put it on, came to her and nudged her legs apart.

He stilled, watching her as he fit his cock inside her.

It was perfect, this moment everything she could have imagined as he filled her, swelling inside her. They fit together in so many ways, especially like this.

This time she didn’t hold back, whimpering at the sheer pleasure of every sensation, every movement.

He brushed her hair away from her face, kissed her jaw, her nose, her mouth, then took her lips in a deep kiss as he moved within her. She wrapped her legs around him and lifted.

They strained together, murmured and kissed as passion ignited between them. Hands clasped, Calliope gave as much as Wyatt did, knowing this might be her only chance to show him what he meant to her—how much this moment meant as the tensions they both held united. He drove within her, relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure. She didn’t think she was capable of it, but as he ground against her, refusing to give up until she did, she finally broke on a harsh cry, and he went with her, slipping his hand underneath her to tilt her close while he shuddered and buried his face in her neck.

She stroked his back and his hair, unable to believe this had really happened. When he rolled to the side he pulled her with him, adjusting her so her back was against him.

She wondered if he’d feel awkward. Wyatt was so quiet, but he kissed the back of her head, caressed her arm and cupped her breast in a lazy, playful way that made her smile.

He didn’t speak—she knew he wouldn’t—so she knew she’d have to be the one to break the silence.

“Well. That was pretty good.”

His hand stilled. “Pretty good?”

“Yeah. For a first time and all.”

He rolled her onto her back and she grinned at him.

“Not funny.”

She laughed “I thought it was. Wyatt, you nearly killed me. I came three times. I don’t think it gets much better than that.”

She knew he fought it, but his lips curved in that supremely male satisfied way. “It’s still early. Trust me. It gets better.”

He leaned over and kissed her, and she sighed, shocked to realize she was ready to go again.

It was going to be a long night.

Wyatt left Calliope’s house early the next morning before the sun came up.

She was on her stomach on the bed, buried under the blankets. Her face was flushed, her curls spread all over the pillow.

He’d never seen anything more beautiful.

She’d looked warm. He knew she would be. He could have shucked his clothes and climbed in the bed with her, woken her up by making love to her again.

Instead, he’d gotten dressed and left the house as quiet as he could so he wouldn’t wake her.

More like so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. Face her. Have that inevitable conversation about how this could never happen again.

Once had been bad enough. Though they hadn’t really done it once, had they? More like three times.

He started the truck and let it warm up while he cleaned off all the snow. A couple feet on the ground at least. Damn good snowfall, but the salt trucks and plows had been busy last night so the roads looked passable. He should make it just fine, though he doubted any of the businesses would be open today, including Calliope’s day care center.

He climbed in the truck and eased it away from the curb. It pulled right off the frozen snow mound and into the street without a problem.

The main roads were even better than the side streets. He should stop at the office, see if anyone made it in, but he decided he needed to go home, take a shower, grab something to eat.

He should have left her a note.

Nah. He wasn’t a note kind of guy. She’d figure it out. She was smart. Though it was rude to just leave.

Then again, she should be used to him being rude.

After all, she’d been nice enough to invite him in last night. She’d fed him. Hell, she’d slept with him.

And he’d just walked out on her this morning.

That made him an asshole. The kind of guy he’d been before. The kind of guy who’d been married to Cassandra.

Maybe he should stop being that kind of guy.

By the time he pulled into his garage at home, he’d decided too much introspection wasn’t good for him. It didn’t come out in his favor. He brewed some coffee and sat at the kitchen table, looking out at the piles of snow in his backyard, and wondering what the hell he was going to do with his day.

Right now he could be in bed with Calliope.

Instead, he was home.

Alone.

There was something inherently fucked about his decision-making.

Chapter Seven

Calliope blew an errant hair away from her face as she cleaned up one of the playrooms while the one-year-olds slumbered during nap time. The day care center had only been closed one day, and the kids obviously had snow fever, because they were all rambunctious and full of energy today. She was certain the parents were all happy to be back at work today and leave their wild little charges with her. The worst thing was the playground outside was still covered in snow, so they would have to deal with having the kids inside all day long.

Along with Wyatt and his men, who were working away inside the room addition.

He’d been gone yesterday by the time she woke. Normally a light sleeper, she must have been half-dead not to hear him dress and leave her house. Then again, they’d stayed up almost all night, and it wasn’t like they’d been leisurely playing cards. She blushed as she remembered exactly what they’d been doing all night long.

He’d greeted her with a nod this morning, back to his usual gruff demeanor.

Yeah, that wasn’t going to fly. She had a few things to say to him at the end of the day today. She was no mouse or doormat who would stand idly by and be treated this way.

She counted down the hours until the final child and the last of her employees left. Wyatt stayed behind after his two men headed out the door. She smiled at both of them, wished them a good-night, then locked the door behind them and headed into the new addition, determined to have a serious conversation about how you treat a woman after you’ve spent a night worshipping her body.

The existing playroom door was closed so none of the kids would wander in there. She opened the door at the same time Wyatt did.

He looked down at her. Frowned.

“Everyone gone?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“About time.” He moved her out of the room, away from the wind coming in from the addition, and closed the door. He backed her against the hallway wall and pressed his body to hers. “I’ve been waiting all damn day for this.”

He slammed his mouth down on hers, obliterating all the righteous anger she’d worked up since he’d left her house yesterday. The kiss was dark and passionate and needy and made heat coil low in her belly. She melted against him, but then laid her palms on his chest and gave him a gentle push.

He drew back, his lips moist from their kiss. She wanted to grab his hair and pull him back, but she resisted.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“The kiss?”

“Yes.”

His gaze drifted to her mouth. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. Yesterday, too.”

“You could have been with me yesterday, instead of sneaking out of my house while I was still asleep.”

“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that. It was stupid and inconsiderate. And I should have called, but once I left I felt like an ass, so I just…didn’t.”

This was new. An apology? “Okay.”

He palmed the wall next to her head. “Look, Calliope. I’m not very good at this.”

“This?”

“Relationships. Women. Dealing with them. I’ll try to do better, but I’m probably not going to be good at it. You should know that going in, so you can change your mind if you want.”

Her lips curved. As an apology, it kind of sucked, but it was honest. She couldn’t ask for more. “It’s okay, Wyatt. I understand.”

He cocked a brow. “That’s it? I’m forgiven?”

“That’s it.”

“You’re too easy.”

She laughed. “Not the best thing to say to a woman.”

He laid his forehead against hers. “Shit. I told you I wasn’t good at this.”

She framed his face with her hands. “No, you aren’t, but if you’re honest with me, I can deal with everything else. Besides, you’re a great kisser, and that forgives a lot of sins.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, grabbed the loops on her jeans and directed her toward her office.

When they got in there, he pushed her against the wall again, pulled off her glasses and tucked them in his pocket.

She might be old-fashioned, but she had to admit she dug his caveman moves.

“Oh, yeah.”

He brushed his lips across hers, his breath a warm caress as he teased his tongue along her bottom lip, then went in for the kill, sliding his arm around her to draw her against him. He brought his mouth full force against hers, and kissed her until she forgot all about yesterday. All she thought of was right now, and the fact they were alone and the door was firmly locked.

And when he dropped to the floor, pulling her on top of him, she went willingly, eager to pick up where they’d left off the night before.

“This is kind of wicked,” she said as he swept her hair away from her face.

“Never done it at work before?”

She snorted. “I work at a day care center. I don’t get many hot guys hitting on me here.”

He popped the button on her jeans and drew the zipper down. “That’s too bad. They should be lining up at the door.”

Now he was making up for fumbling his words earlier. She felt warm all over, though maybe that was due to him rolling her over and touching her. He took off her tennis shoes and slid her jeans and panties down her legs.

By the time he’d removed her sweatshirt and bra, and gotten rid of his own clothes, she started to giggle. He frowned at her.

“This is no laughing matter,” he said.

“I’ve never been naked at work before.”

He grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans. “You should try it more often.”

She rolled over on her side. “Oh? You make a habit of it?”

“Yeah. I wander around jobsites naked all the time. You haven’t seen me on the news?”

She grabbed his shoulder. “Careful, Wyatt, or I might think you have a sense of humor.”

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t come around all that often.” He pulled her back on top of him and reached for her breasts, and all humor fled as she tilted her head back and lost herself in the magic of his hands.

Wyatt hadn’t meant to start this. All he’d wanted to do was talk to Calliope tonight, to get her alone so he could apologize for acting like an ass and running out on her yesterday. But seeing her as she opened the door, fury and irritation instead of hurt in her eyes, had primed the pump and made him forget everything he intended to say to her.

Anger had lit up her face, put a bright spot of color on her cheeks and made her eyes come to life. The only thing he’d thought about then was kissing her and getting his hands on her.

Okay, so maybe those were the only things he’d thought about since he left her house yesterday.

But now she sat on top of him naked. He didn’t know if he’d ever seen anything more beautiful than her body, lush and flushed pink with arousal as she tilted her head back while he thumbed and teased her nipples.

She rolled against him, causing him no end of agony—the pleasurable kind. Buried inside her, he connected with her in the most primal way, reaching up to pull her against him, to take a nipple into his mouth, to touch her on a basic level so she’d feel what he felt.

He loved the way she responded, the way she looked at him so he knew she was as connected as he was. She gripped his shoulders as she rode him, as she raised and lowered on him, and when she climaxed, she kept that connection, digging her nails into him, her eyes widening as she tightened around him. He cupped his hand around the nape of her neck and flew with her, losing himself in her depths.

A part of him wasn’t ready for this—this bond he felt with her. The last time he’d felt this attached to a woman had been Cassandra. And that hadn’t ended well.

Calliope was like a hurricane—wild and turbulent. He wasn’t sure he could handle her, but he wanted to see what she threw at him, and right now he just couldn’t resist her. She was beautiful, a little scary, and he couldn’t walk away.

“I’m hungry,” she said, pushing up to look down at him. “You like pizza?”

He grinned up at her. “Sounds good.”

“How about Rizzoni’s?”

“How about we go to your place and order delivery? Fewer clothes involved that way.”

She arched a brow. “Naked pizza eating could be dangerous.”

“I live on the edge.”

She climbed off him and started grabbing her clothes. “You’re on, but hurry. Sex makes me hungry.”

He grabbed his jeans. “I’ll be sure to order an extra large pizza, then. You’re going to need it.”

Chapter Eight

“The party is scheduled for the sixteenth,” Tori said, handing out the information sheet along with the menu.

Staff meetings at Kent Construction were his least favorite thing, but business had to be conducted. Discussing the annual holiday party was something he’d rather Tori handle. As the office manager, she dealt with the day-to-day running of the business, as well as all the financials. He’d much rather just get out there and work with his hands.

Unfortunately, when Tori called a meeting, you showed up. She might be only in her twenties, but she was formidable. When she bellowed, you came running or you’d never hear the end of it.

Wyatt took the information sheet and scanned it. “I assume there’ll be meat at this party.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “No. We’re serving celery and carrots. Our clients like rabbit food.”

“Har.”

“We’re having roast beef, chicken and pasta. There’ll be hors d’oeuvres and an open bar, though I twitched at the open bar thing.”

“We can handle it,” Brody said.

“You say that now. Wait until you have to write the check. It’s the holiday season. People like to drink.”

“You like to drink, too, you lush,” Brody teased. “Will I have to throw you over my shoulder and drive you home again this year?”

Tori glared at him. “That was one stinkin’ year. And I had just turned twenty-one. It’s never happened since so I’d appreciate it if you’d never mention it again.”

Wyatt’s lips twitched.

“I saw that, Wyatt,” Tori said, as if she had eyes in the back of her head. “Don’t you dare smile.”

“I don’t smile. You know that. I’m the bad-tempered one.”

Tori swiveled in her chair, narrowed her gaze at him. “You’re almost in a good mood. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ethan rolled his chair closer to Wyatt, inspecting him like he had ticks or something. “There is something different about you. What’s up?”

“I know what it is.” Brody leaned back and crossed his arms. “He’s getting laid.”

“What?” Tori’s eyes widened. “How come I don’t know about this?”

“You mean I know something you don’t? What the hell, Tor? You having an off week?”

“Shut up, Brody.” Tori narrowed her gaze on Wyatt. “What’s going on?”

Shit. He knew he should have gone straight to the day care center this morning and bugged out of this meeting. “Nothing’s going on, and if it was it would be none of your business.”

“So he is getting laid.” Ethan grinned. “Who is it?”

“Oh. I know who it is,” Tori said. “And why she hasn’t said anything to me is a subject I’ll be taking up with her very soon.”

“Who is it?” Brody asked.

Tori didn’t say anything, just gave Wyatt a knowing smile.

“Oh,” Ethan said. “It’s Calliope Andrews.”

Wyatt winced.

“Wow. Keeping it in the family, aren’t you?” Brody asked.

“Shut up, Brody,” Tori said. “This is none of our business. Let’s move on with the meeting.”

“Hey, you started it. Now we’re going to take the ball and run like hell.” Ethan nudged him with an elbow. “So…is one sister—”

Wyatt shot Ethan a look. “Don’t go there. I mean it, Ethan.”

Ethan kicked his chair back and raised his hands. “Hey, I was joking with you.”

Brody leaned toward Tori. “A little sensitive, isn’t he?”

“I’m not fucking deaf, you idiot.”

“I mean it, Brody,” Tori said. “You need to leave this alone. This is Wyatt and Calliope’s business. Not ours.”

Ethan shrugged. “Who am I going to tell? Besides Riley, of course. And she’s out of town.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Do you like her?” Brody asked.

Tori stared at him. He knew Tori and Calliope were friends. He’d have to be careful what he said. “Again, none of your business.”

He knew this was going to be a problem, that once word got out he was seeing his ex-wife’s sister people would start talking. He could trust his brothers and Tori…but other people? He didn’t want to deal with the gossip. The talk after the divorce had been bad. And since he hadn’t bothered to say anything, people had made up their own minds about what had happened between him and Cassandra. None of it had been true.

People could think whatever the hell they wanted to think, but he didn’t want them talking shit about Calliope. It was best they didn’t know about the two of them.

If he was smart he’d put an end to it now before things got out of hand, before people found out.

They finished the meeting and Wyatt grabbed his stuff.

Brody stopped him.

“Hey.”

He turned to his brother. “What?”

“You know we were teasing you in there. If you want to see Calliope, that’s your business.”

Wyatt nodded.

“If anyone’s entitled to a life and some fun, Wyatt, it’s you. And if that’s with Calliope, then go for it.”

“It’s not that simple. She’s Cassandra’s sister.”

“So? If she’s the one you want…”

“Again, not that simple.”

“Why? You worried about what people will think, what they’ll say?”

He didn’t say anything.

Brody frowned. “Screw that. We’re behind you. Family sticks together and we’ll kick anyone’s ass who has something to say about it. Calliope’s cool. And damn, man, you’re the most relaxed I’ve seen you in years. It’s about time you went out and had some fun. If she’s the reason behind it, then don’t let anyone stop you.”

He nodded. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

He headed out the door and climbed in his truck, tossed his gear to the passenger seat.

Maybe Brody was right. Maybe he was worried too much.

Then again, he knew what small-town gossip was like. He knew his family would rally around him. It wasn’t himself he was worried about. Anything people had to say, any whispers and innuendos were water off a duck’s back to him. He’d heard it all after his divorce.

But Calliope was building a business. She dealt with families with small children. Rumors and gossip could hurt her and her business.

And that he wouldn’t tolerate.

Calliope stood and laid her hands at the small of her back, stretching out her tight muscles.

What an interminably long day. She was glad it was Friday and the week was over. All she wanted was a hot bath, a good meal and her man. And a massage by said man. She wondered if she could convince Wyatt to give her a back rub. Maybe she could use her feminine wiles to wrangle a back rub out of him.

Or, she could just get naked. That should convince him.

Then again, they hadn’t made official plans for tonight, or for the weekend. She’d assumed they’d see each other. He’d come over to her place or she’d gone to his after work almost every night for the past two weeks.

He and the other guys had left the addition about an hour ago, so she assumed she’d find him in the trailer doing some paperwork. She locked up the center and headed that way, frowning when she saw all the lights out in the trailer. She pulled on the door. It was locked.

Huh. She walked around to the front of the trailer and didn’t see his truck.

He’d left. Without saying anything to her.

Okay, so maybe he’d had an emergency and didn’t have time to tell her about it. She hoped everything was okay.

She drove home, tossed her coat and purse on the sofa and grabbed her phone, dialing his number as she kicked her shoes off.

He answered on the third ring.

“Hi,” he said.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I looked for you after I closed for the day. I thought you might be in the trailer but you had already left.”

“Yeah. Cut out on time for a change. Had to head back to the office.”

“Oh, okay.” She took a seat at the kitchen table. “So what are your plans for tonight?”

“I thought I’d work on the car.”

“Oh.” She heard the definite brush-off signals in his tone of voice. “What about tomorrow? There’s a new movie out I’m dying to see.”

“I don’t think so. I have a few things I need to catch up on.”

Pain and irritation swirled around in her empty stomach, making her nauseous.

“Sure. I understand. I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

“Okay. See you.”

She clicked off the phone and slid it across the table, angry with Wyatt, and with herself.

No. Not with herself. Definitely with him. They had a relationship. They’d been together every day for three weeks. That allowed her to make assumptions. He’d been happy, dammit. He couldn’t just make an about turn and suddenly blow her off without an explanation.

An explanation she deserved.

She went into the bathroom and took a shower, washing off the day and some of her annoyance with it. By the time she’d dried her hair, she had the phone to her ear and Tori on the line.

“Are you busy tonight?” she asked.

“I was going to do a home pedicure. It doesn’t get more exciting than that.”

Calliope laughed, which was exactly what she needed. “How about a girl’s night out?”

“Sounds fabulous,” Tori said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Food and lots of margaritas.”

“Bingo. I’m so game for that.”

They made plans to meet at one of their favorite Mexican restaurants in town. She put on makeup, dressed in a pair of her tightest jeans, put on high-heeled boots, then slid into a sexy silk top instead of her day care center sweatshirts.

Tonight, she intended to party.

El Partido was a popular restaurant, especially on the weekends. In a small town, entertainment was limited. You went out to eat, you hit a bar, or you went to the movies. Though there was also bowling and ice-skating if you were in the mood for those activities.

Calliope was in the mood to drink, and she knew Tori was always game for a fun night on the town. They started out with a top-shelf margarita, settled in at the bar and waited for their name to be called for their table. Judging by the long line out front, it could be a while.

“I haven’t seen you in like…forever,” Tori said, her long earrings grazing her neck as she twisted her barstool around while juggling the oversized drink. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry we haven’t gotten together. I’ve been busy.”

Tori lifted her brows. “Yeah? Busy doing what? Or should I ask…whom?”

“What do you know, or what do you think you know?”

Tori gave an innocent bat of her lashes. “I just know Wyatt has been a lot less grumpy lately. He even smiled. He might have cracked a joke. We thought the world was ending.”

Calliope’s lips curved. “Well, good for him.”

“And you’re saying his good mood over the past few weeks has nothing to do with you.”

Calliope shrugged. “I’m not responsible for his moods.”

“Uh oh. He’s pissed you off. What did he do?”

“Nothing. He’s not responsible for my mood, either.”

“What a crock. Tell me everything.”

She did, starting with the first night and every night since.

Tori leaned an arm against the bar and sipped her margarita, her expression changing as the story went on. By the time Calliope finished, Tori was frowning.

“What an ass.”

“He has a right to his space.”

“Bullshit. He sees you every night, and then suddenly blows you off with no explanation other than working on his car and some vague ‘other stuff to do’? No. There’s something else going on.”

“He’s not seeing anyone else. It practically took an act of Congress for him to have sex with me.”

Tori snorted and signaled for a refill on their drinks. “Isn’t that the truth? That man had a serious dry spell going. Hence his three-year bad mood. Thank God you came along and ended that.”

“Yeah.”

“So how’s the sex?”

“Tori!”

Tori straightened in her seat. “What? I want to know how the sex is. Wyatt’s gorgeous. Virile. Studly.”

Calliope took the fresh margarita from the bartender and licked a spot of salt from the rim. “Yum.”

“The drink or the man?”

She smiled. “Both.”

“So he’s good, right?”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here pissed off at him if he wasn’t.”

“That’s what I figured. I always knew he had some deep, smoldering sexuality simmering under the surface of that testy exterior.”

“I’m surprised you even notice given the hots you have for Brody.”

“I do not have the hots for Brody. At. All.”

“You. Lie.”

“First, I work for him. Second, I’ve known him since I was like…sixteen. Third…”

Calliope waited while Tori tried to come up with another objection.

Instead, Tori took a drink and Calliope laughed at her.

“What?”

“Why haven’t you ever done anything about it?”

“About what?”

“Brody.”

Tori rolled her eyes, then set her drink down and fiddled with the bracelets on her arm. “I am never doing Brody. We are not meant to be. The man gets on my last nerve. He’s egotistical, loud, annoying, teases me too much and already has way too many women in this town who think the sun rises and sets on his perfect abs and great ass.”

“And you’re not one of them.”

“Hell, no. I am not a member of the Brody Kent fan club. Besides, we’re not here to talk about me. Nice try in deflecting, though. What are you going to do about Wyatt?”

“Nothing. I can’t make him want to be with me.”

“No, you can’t. But why the sudden brakes on your relationship?”

“Maybe it’s run its course.”

“After a few weeks?” Tori shook her head. “I don’t think so. There’s something else, and you need to talk to him to figure out what it is.”

“I don’t want to talk to him. I want to drink my margarita, hang out with you, then have a giant enchilada.”

“I think you’d rather have Wyatt’s giant enchilada.”

Calliope nearly choked on her drink. “Oh, my God, Tori. Don’t do that to me when I’m drinking.”

Tori grinned. “Just here to state the facts, my friend.”

Calliope thought about what Tori had said all through drinks and dinner.

She wasn’t a quitter, wasn’t one to sit back and let things happen. Maybe all this togetherness had been too much too fast for Wyatt, but if so, she needed to hear that from him, not some flimsy excuse about stuff and cars. She’d told him from the very beginning the only thing she wanted from him in this relationship was honesty.

So she gave him the weekend to do whatever “stuff” he had to do. Monday morning he walked right past her office without dipping his head in, looking to see if she was in there or even trying to find her the entire day.

Yeah, something was definitely up.

If the relationship had run its course and he wanted to be done with it, then he owed it to her to have a face-to-face conversation with her and tell her.

So at the end of the workday, she stood at the entrance to her office while her staff shuffled the kids out the door to their parents. She waved to the other guys who were working on the room addition, and when Wyatt grabbed his tools on his way out the door, she stopped him.

“Wyatt. Can I see you in my office for a minute?”

“Kind of busy here, Calliope.”

“Whatever you’re busy with will have to wait. This is important.”

He paused, looking toward the front door as if he considered a mad dash for freedom. “I’m dirty and full of dust. How about we do this in my trailer?”

“Fine. Let me lock up in here and I’ll meet you there.”

He nodded and walked out.

As soon as her staff left, she locked the door and headed over to his trailer. For a brief second as she rounded the corner she wondered if he would take off without talking to her, but he wasn’t that much of a coward. The light was on the trailer. She opened the door and walked in. Wyatt was in there going over blueprints on the drafting table. He looked up, but didn’t smile.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

She leaned against the opposite wall. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“Huh?”

“Things between us were great, and then suddenly you backed off. I want to know why.”

“Calliope…”

“Don’t.” She pushed off the wall, came to the table and laid her hands on it. “All I want is the straight truth, Wyatt.”

He looked down at the blueprints, then back up at her. She saw sadness and pain in his eyes and her heart squeezed.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

“What?”

“You started talking about going out, and you deserve that. But you know people are going to talk.”

That wasn’t at all what she expected to hear. He was protecting her? “Talk about what? That you were once married to Cassie and now you’re dating me?”

“Yeah.”

She rolled her eyes and slid her hand over his. “Wyatt. I don’t care what anyone has to say about that.”

“You know as well as I do it’s the kind of thing that will get small-town gossip going. It doesn’t bother me at all. I don’t give a shit what people say. But you have a reputation to maintain. This could hurt you.”

She snorted. “A reputation? Am I some kind of saint in this town?”

“You run a day care center. You can’t be seen with me.”

“Oh for the love of chocolate chip cookies. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” She moved in between him and table and palmed his face. “I want to be with you. In public. People can say whatever they want, gossip all they want about it. I’d be proud to be with you. If they care that you were married to my sister, that’s their problem, not mine.”

She saw the worry on his face.

“You know what they’re going to say, all the things they’re going to say.”

“Let them,” she said. “I won’t be listening.”

“What about the people who bring their kids to you?”

“If they’re bothered by it, they’re not the right kind of people. It’s not going to hurt my business.” She swept her hand along his jaw, tingling at the scratch of his beard. “But I love that you were worried for me. Thank you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Calliope. I’m trying not to be that guy anymore.”

She tilted her head to the side. “That guy?”

“Never mind. It’s not important. Look. I’m sorry. I warned you I wasn’t any good at this.”

She laughed. “You’re only going to get so many free passes at using that as an excuse. If you want to be in a relationship, you have to work on your communication skills.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her close. “I’m not much of a talker. I’m more of a doer.”

This is what she’d missed over the weekend. The rush of heat, the sudden flame of desire he could draw out of her with one touch.

“A doer, huh?”

“Yeah.”

She looked over her shoulder. Her butt rested on the blueprints. “You know, I’ve had this fantasy about your trailer and this drafting table ever since the first time I walked in here.”

She felt the hard ridge of his erection as he pushed her against the table. “Do tell.”

“It has something to do with you bending me over it.”

He flipped her around so fast she was dizzy, his hands roaming over her breasts, her back, her butt. “I like the way you think, Calliope.”

“Good. Then shut up. More doing, less talking.”

Chapter Nine

Wyatt watched the people around them as he escorted Calliope to their table at McCluskey’s Restaurant. He intended to shoot visual daggers at anyone who gave Calliope even a sidelong glance.

So far they’d gone to a movie, eaten at her favorite Mexican restaurant, and gone out with Ethan, his wife Riley and their daughter, Zoey, since Riley was back in town after doing a recording session. As soon as Riley heard he was dating Calliope, she insisted on meeting her, so Ethan had suggested they all go out to dinner.

All this going out was wearing on him. Wyatt had spent so much of the past few years as a recluse he had lost the ability to be social. Fortunately Calliope was social enough for the both of them. She and Riley had talked for hours, and of course since Calliope loved kids she’d engaged Zoey in conversation, too. He and Ethan had kicked back and talked work while the three girls laughed together, talked fashion and music and the latest kid stuff.

Calliope was just damned…perfect.

He was in love with her, which scared the shit out of him.

The last time he’d fallen in love with a woman it hadn’t ended so well for him. And this was Cassandra’s sister. He couldn’t imagine what her parents would think of all this. They weren’t too fond of him because of what had gone down the first time. He didn’t think they’d be overjoyed at the prospect of having him back in the family again.

“Wyatt.”

He lifted his gaze to Calliope, who, along with the waitress he hadn’t noticed standing at their table, gave him a look of expectation.

“What?”

“What would you like to drink, sir?”

“Oh. Iced tea would be great.”

“Thanks, Rachel,” Calliope said, then turned back to Wyatt after the waitress bounded off. “Where is your head tonight?”

“Sorry. Was thinking about work stuff.” Or proposing to Calliope.

And where the hell had that come from?

He knew where it had come from. He was tired of being alone. Calliope had filled a void in his life he hadn’t realized had been there. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. She was full of life and laughter, she loved kids, and she didn’t put up with his crap. She wanted the same things he did, so what the hell was he waiting for, other than it was all too familiar, family-wise?

It was too soon. He wasn’t ready. He had no idea how she felt. What the hell was he thinking?

“Wyatt.”

He lifted his gaze. “What?”

She tilted her head toward Rachel, their waitress again. “Sir, what would you like to order?”

Shit. He did a quick scan of the menu, ordered a steak and handed her the menu.

“Are you even here tonight?” Calliope asked.

“Sorry. A lot on my mind.”

She reached for his hand. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“No.” Hell, no.

“Well, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Okay.” This time he was determined to pay attention.

“The holidays are approaching, you know.”

He lifted his lips and took a sip of tea. “Yeah, I have a calendar.”

“Smartass. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d be willing to come over to my parents’ house. They’re having an open house this weekend.”

He swallowed. Talk about tuning into his train of thought. “I don’t know, Calliope. I’m not exactly their favorite person after Cassandra.”

“I don’t agree. They don’t hold a grudge. Anyway, there’re more.”

“It gets worse?”

“I don’t know if you’d call it worse. But I think if you and I are going to go anywhere with our relationship, there are some issues you need to put to rest.”

He didn’t like where this was going. “Go on.”

“Cassie’s coming home for the holidays.”

And the train just jumped the tracks. “No.”

“Hear me out on this.”

“No. She and I have nothing to say to each other. Everything was said between our attorneys.”

She squeezed his hand. “See? That’s the problem. Neither of you had closure.”

He pulled his hand away. “I had plenty of closure.”

“Wyatt.”

“Calliope. No. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I have nothing to say to Cassandra that hasn’t already been said. I don’t want to see her again, or talk to her again. Ever.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but the waitress brought their drinks. Maybe she could tell by the look on his face, but she didn’t bring up the topic again, at least until they left the restaurant and went back to his place.

They were curled up on the sofa together and she was unbuttoning his shirt, a slow seduction that was too damn slow in his opinion. He was more than ready to get to the good stuff, like her gorgeous naked body, with him inside her, hopefully rocking her world.

“What if you and I end up having…let’s say a long-term relationship.”

Fun halted. He took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s say we do.”

“Eventually you’re going to have to see my parents, come over to my house, hang out at holidays and birthdays and stuff.”

He turned to face her. “My relationship is with you. Not with your family any more than your relationship is with my family. I care about you. Just you.”

“But that isn’t the way it works and you know it. You’re trying to be simplistic and putting the two of us in a bubble. I don’t want it to work that way, and I don’t think you do, either. I like your family. I want our future to include our families—providing, of course, we have a future together. Do you want us to have a future together?”

He inhaled, let it out. “This is complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be. You’re making it that way by shoving this giant obstacle between us.”

“Cassandra.”

“Yes. And she doesn’t have to be there. If you’d—”

He put his fingers to her lips. “I don’t want my ex-wife in our lives, and I sure as hell don’t want her between us right now. I don’t want to talk about her or think about her. What I want right now is to kiss you.” He put his mouth where his fingers had been. He much preferred kissing her to talking.

When she leaned against him, he felt her surrender. She curled her hand around his neck and moaned against him. He’d won this battle.

But it was a temporary reprieve. This wasn’t over, but he was content to let it go for now. All he wanted was this moment, and to have Calliope in his arms, to feel the softness of her body as she moved against him.

He reached behind her to the zipper of the incredibly sexy dress she’d worn to dinner. All he could think about was getting the dress off her. He dragged the zipper down, then drew the dress off her shoulders. She wore a black silk bra that made him hold his breath because her breasts nearly spilled over the top.

“Wow.”

She grinned and pushed her glasses up.

Damn, she was one sexy woman. She slid off his lap, unhooked her bra then shimmied out of her panties. “You know what I really wish we could do?”

“If it has anything to do with sex, your wish is granted.”

“Good. Because I want to take a shower.”

He liked the direction of her thoughts. They made his dick pound hard against his jeans. He stood, scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs, depositing her on the floor in the bathroom. He turned the shower on while he removed his clothes, loving the way Calliope watched him as he undressed. He was hard and aching by the time he pulled her inside the oversized shower.

“I told you the first time I came here that this shower gave me naughty thoughts,” she said.

“And I want to hear all about them.”

“Four showerheads? It’s a woman’s dream, in more ways than one.” She stepped under one of the sprays, not at all self-conscious about her hair getting wet or her makeup running down her face. One of the things he loved about her.

Wyatt stood back and watched the water stream in rivers down her gorgeous body as she slicked her hair back.

He moved in and put his arms around her to tug her against him, let her feel what she did to him. She reached between them to stroke him, agonizing him with slow, careful movements that made him clench his jaw.

He pushed her against the wall and lifted her arms over her head, held them there with his hand while he used the other to roam over her body. Water poured over them both, steam shadowing them and making the temperature rise as his body heated to unbearable. He bent and took a nipple, licked it then sucked it between his lips. Her moans of pleasure and the way she rocked her hips toward him were an invitation for more.

He wanted more, so he straightened and cupped her sex, watching her eyes as he rocked his hand against her, found the tight nub and rolled it between his fingers and took her where she wanted to go. She gasped, her eyes widening when she came.

He grabbed the condom he’d laid on top of the shower and put it on, then pushed her legs apart and entered her. She held on to his shoulders as he thrust into her again and again, his passion as hot as the water and steam pouring over them.

She dug her nails into him. “More,” she said, her voice a whisper, a sensual command.

He gave her more, and she tightened around him, then convulsed, and he shattered, wrapping his arm around her and lifting her. He took her mouth as the maelstrom of sensation wrecked him, left his legs shaking so hard he had to grab the top of the shower to hold them both steady.

He set her down easy, kissing her lips and her throat, stroking her hair while she threaded her fingers through his hair. Neither one of them said anything. What they’d done, what they’d shared, had said enough.

They dried off and climbed into his big bed, but only used a quarter of the space because he tugged her close against him. She pulled his arm around her and he realized he liked having her here in his house. In his bed. In his life.

He’d do anything to keep her here.

Except the one thing he knew she wanted.

That, he couldn’t—wouldn’t do.

“I have a problem, and I need some advice.”

Tori tossed her oversized bag on Calliope’s desk. “You’ve come to the right person.”

Wyatt had a meeting with his brothers at a potential new job site, so he’d left early. Tori had agreed to pop over after work, so now that the day care center was closed, she and Tori had some quiet time to talk.

She’d let a week go by. Things with Wyatt were almost perfect. They were together all the time, and even though the room addition project was a couple days from being completed, she knew the two of them would continue to be together after it was finished. But still, things weren’t quite whole between them, and she knew why. It nagged at her, refusing to go away.

Tori took a seat in the chair across from Calliope’s desk.

“It’s about Wyatt.”

Tori smirked. “I figured. What’s the problem? Is he being grouchy again?”

“No. Well, not really. He’s…uncooperative about a particular subject.”

“What subject is that?”

“His ex-wife.”

Tori’s eyes widened. “You do realize that subject is off-limits. None of us ever bring up the ex. I know she’s your sister and all, but, honey, that marriage did not end well.”

“I know.” She pushed back from her desk and stood, looking out at the streetlights and cars passing by. She turned to face Tori. “The scars of that marriage are holding him back. It’s holding us back. He can’t let it go.”

“Ugly things were said between the two of them. I wasn’t privy to it all, but from what I heard, it was a bitter divorce.”

“Yes, it was. Mistakes were made on both sides and they walked away without closure. Without forgiveness. Without talking to each other. They need that closure now. Without it, I don’t think Wyatt will ever be able to move on with a clear conscience.”

“And you want him to be able to move on. With you.”

She nodded.

“Honey, you know I love you. But some things—some people—can’t be fixed.”

“I don’t want to fix him. I want him to be happy.”

“Doesn’t he seem happy? With you?”

“Yes and no. I feel like there will always be a wall between us.”

“Meaning Cassie.”

“Yes. He needs to get past her, really let her go, before he can ever be truly happy.”

“You do realize this could be a deal breaker for him.”

Calliope nodded. “I know. But I love him, and I know that on the surface he’s happy with me, but Cassandra will always be between us. Which means I have to try. And if that means he walks away from me, then I guess we were never meant to be.”

Tori stood, came over and hugged her. “So what do you want to do?”

“I have an idea.”

“That Wyatt won’t like.”

“He’ll hate it. He’ll be angry with me.”

“And you need my help to make it happen.”

“Yes.”

Tori nodded. “You know I love you both. So what can I do?”

Chapter Ten

Wyatt hated parties. It required more socializing, and God knew he’d done enough socializing the past couple months to last him a lifetime.

But it was part of what they did for business, and the annual Kent Construction holiday party included inviting their clients. Treating clients to a night of fun, dinner and dancing was good for their business. So he’d suck it up, put on a smile and a suit, and down enough whiskey so he could numb the pain.

At least this year he’d have Calliope by his side, so he wouldn’t have to huddle in a corner with some drunken businessman he’d have to end up driving home at the end of the night.

Trying not to strangle on his tie, he pulled into Calliope’s driveway and got out, went to her front door and rang the bell.

“It’s open,” he heard her holler. He opened the door.

“How do you know I’m not some serial killer?” he said as he walked in. “Lock your damn door, woman.”

“There are no serial killers in this town,” she said from the bedroom.

“I’m sure the last person to be killed by a serial killer in a small town thought that, too.”

“Fine. I’ll have a key made for you and I’ll start locking the front door.”

She came out, and he forgot all about the lecture he was going to give her about locking the door.

Dressed in a black dress that swept across the tops of her knees, her shoulders were bare, the dress sparkled, clung to her amazing breasts and every curve of her body. Long silver earrings hung from her ears, her hair was swept up and into some kind of sparkly clip, curls dangling down her back. She even wore different glasses, black ones with tiny crystals on the side. Sexy as hell. Her shoes made her legs look miles long and all he could think about was getting her out of that dress later on tonight.

“I can’t breathe, Calliope.”

She frowned and walked toward him. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re so goddamned stunning you take my breath away.”

She paused, and her lips curved. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He came to her, lifted her hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. “I’m going to make every man at the party jealous.”

“Stop.”

“No. You’re truly beautiful. I’m a very lucky man.”

She grinned. “Thank you.” She adjusted his tie. “You look so handsome in a suit. Black suits you. We make a fine couple.”

“Thanks. I’m uncomfortable.”

“Suck it up, hot stuff. It’s only for one night.”

“You ready?”

She inhaled, let it out, and he couldn’t help watching the rise of her breasts.

“You keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it to your party tonight.”

“And that would be a bad thing…how?”

She laughed. “I’ll get my coat.”

Calliope’s stomach was twisted up in knots. The venue was beautiful. She found Tori and told her she’d done a fantastic job.

“Thank you.” Tori squeezed her hand. “We have so many people here tonight. I’m so nervous.”

“Don’t be. This is amazing.”

Tori took a sip of champagne and looked around. “We have such a great turnout. I’m glad we booked on a Friday night. I think people were ready to party, let loose before the holidays.”

“And you look gorgeous.” Tori’s flaming red hair was in an updo, with tendrils framing her creamy face. She wore diamond studs in her ears, and a knockout, tight-fitting red dress that showcased all her assets. “Has Brody seen you yet?”

“Brody who?”

Calliope laughed. “Deny all you want, but that is an impress-a-man dress.”

“How do you know it isn’t for Jimmy Redding of Redding Tools?”

Calliope snorted. “If you had the hots for Jimmy Redding I’d already know about it.”

Tori shrugged. “I’m on duty tonight, making sure our guests have a great time.”

Calliope saw Brody frown in Tori’s direction, and head their way.

“We’ll see what Brody has to say, since he’s coming at you like a runaway freight train.”

Tori turned. “Huh. Oh, look, there’s Jimmy Redding now. Gotta go.”

Tori skirted away in a hurry. Calliope had no idea what kind of game Tori was playing with Brody, but from the steaming mad look on Brody’s face, she’d guess that game was going to reach a conclusion soon.

Calliope dug her phone out of her purse, then palmed her stomach to calm the nervous jitters.

This had to work. If it didn’t, her relationship with Wyatt would be in serious jeopardy.

She spotted Ethan and Riley along with Ethan’s parents, so headed over there to say hello. Riley looked gorgeous in a pale cream dress, her hair cascading down her shoulders.

“I love a good party,” Riley said. “And these aren’t the industry type of parties I’m always stuck going to. Small-town parties are always the best.”

“You didn’t always think so,” Ethan said, sliding his arm around her waist.

She leaned her head against Ethan’s shoulder. “I’m reformed now. I might have to be on the road a lot, but there’s nothing better than coming home.”

Calliope grinned. Ethan and Riley had gone through a lot to be together. Seeing them so happy together now gave her hope.

“Calliope,” Stacy Kent said, taking her hands. “It’s so wonderful to see you here.”

“Thank you, Stacy. It’s nice to be here.”

Stacy looped her arm in Calliope’s after Ethan and Riley moved off. “Can I say thank you?”

“Why?”

“For giving life back to my son. He hasn’t had much of one since the divorce. Until you.”

Calliope smiled. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I’m head over heels in love with your son.”

Stacy hugged her. “He’s very lucky to have someone like you.”

Obviously Wyatt’s mom had no problem with her being Cassie’s sister. That was one Kent in her corner, at least. Her fingers were crossed this was going to work out.

She’d made a calculated decision. A tough one. One that might blow up in her face and cost her the man she’d fallen madly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with.

But she didn’t see any way around it, because this needed to be done. Not only for Wyatt and her, but for her sister, whom she loved.

It was time to bury the past, forgive the sins and move on.

She just had to get Wyatt on board.

The evening passed with little fanfare. There was food, drinks were plentiful and Wyatt seemed to be having a great time. He wasn’t drinking a lot—mostly water, so that was good. She didn’t need him drunk and difficult to deal with. This night was going to be tough enough as it was.

She pulled her phone out, judging the time. She wandered around the party, saw Tori and Brody in a dark corner engaged in a heated discussion. Tori’s hands were flailing like they always did when she was pissed off. Brody towered over her, his voice raised. Calliope wondered if she should go over and intercede, see if Tori needed any help, but then Brody jerked Tori into his arms and planted one seriously hot kiss on her.

Uh. Wow. That was some kiss. Tori didn’t seem to be fighting it either. In fact, she grabbed the lapels of Brody’s jacket and tugged him closer. Calliope pivoted and walked the other way, her lips lifting in a wide smile.

Go, Tori.

Intending to find her own hot kisser, she searched the crowd, found Wyatt engaged in conversation with a few of his clients. She slid her arm through his. He looked down and grinned at her, then excused himself from the conversation.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, making her entire body swirl with warmth and emotion. A little over a month ago he wouldn’t have even wanted to be seen with her. Now he was kissing her in public. Not only in public, but surrounded by his family and friends.

That was some serious progress.

“People are watching us, you know.”

He brushed his lips across hers again. “Don’t care. Let them watch. You’re mine and I want everyone to know it.”

Her stomach tightened. She didn’t want to lose Wyatt over this. “I like being yours.”

“Let’s dance.”

He dragged her out on the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. The music was slow and his body was all muscle. They fit together perfectly.

Other couples were out there, but Calliope didn’t notice. All she saw was Wyatt, the way he looked at her, as if she was the only woman in the world for him.

She wanted to be the only woman in the world for him. That’s why she was doing this tonight.

It was now or never. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have a surprise for you later.”

His brows lifted. “I hope it has something to do with you and me finding a private room somewhere so I can see what you’re wearing under that dress.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Yes, there’s that, too. But there’s another surprise. After the party’s over.”

He cocked a brow. “I can’t wait.”

They finished the dance and Wyatt pressed his lips to hers. He hovered, as if he wanted to say something, but one of his clients came up and the moment was broken.

“Go ahead,” she said. “We’ll catch up later.”

He wandered off and she tried to find Tori, who seemed to have disappeared. So had Brody.

Interesting.

Maybe the two of them went off to have their own private holiday party.

If they had, it was about time.

She ran into Ethan and Riley.

“Have you seen Tori?”

Riley looked around. “No, I haven’t as a matter of fact.”

“I was looking for Brody earlier,” Ethan said. “I can’t find him.”

“You don’t think—” Riley’s eyes widened. “Did the two of them run off to some dark corner together?”

Calliope refused to answer that one, but Ethan and Riley put two and two together and grinned at each other.

“I guess I can stop trying to hunt down my brother,” Ethan said with a knowing smile.

Calliope had no idea what was going on with Tori and Brody, but she hoped whatever it was, it was a good thing and nothing bad.

The party wound down and guests had begun to leave. By midnight, the place was empty. Still no sign of Tori and Brody. Wyatt’s parents had already gone home, and Ethan and Riley had to go pick up Zoey from the babysitter.

Which meant she and Wyatt were the last ones standing. She made the call. It was now or never.

“You ready to head out?” Wyatt asked.

“Not yet. I need you to follow me.”

His lips curled. “Are you planning to drag me to some dark corner for sex?”

She laughed. “Uh. Not exactly.”

She took his hand and led him out of the main ballroom. Her heart pounded and her pulse began to race. Her legs felt weak and she pondered calling a halt to this whole thing, but as soon as they reached the lobby, she was standing right there, right on time.

Cassandra had always been punctual.

She had left a party of her own at the hotel next door, promising Calliope she’d show up.

Wyatt’s hand tightened in hers. He stopped, looked at Cassie, then down at her.

“Why? After I told you no, why? You have no business interfering in my life.”

She saw the hurt and anger on his face, but lifted her chin.

“I have every right to interfere in your life. I’m in love with you. I want you to be happy, and as long as this animosity lingers between you and Cassie, you’ll never be free.”

He turned, started to walk away, but she grabbed his hand. “Wyatt, don’t. Don’t walk away. Not this time.”

“I asked you not to do this. I trusted you. The last time I trusted a woman she screwed me over. I guess it runs in the family, doesn’t it?”

His words were like a stab in the heart, but she knew it was just his fear talking. She refused to let him push her away. Instead, she was determined to stand and fight.

“Grow up and act like a man, Wyatt. Once you do you’ll realize I’m the best damn thing that’s ever happened in your life—a life you’ll never be able to wholly live until you let go of the past.” She pointed down the hall at her sister. “That’s your past. I’m your future. Pull your head out of your ass and figure out what you want. A life of regret and anger, or a life with me.”

She turned and walked away.

Wyatt had never been more furious about anything in his entire life. Not even when things had been at their worst with Cassandra had he felt as betrayed as he did right now.

He’d asked Calliope to stay out of it, not to put him and Cassandra together.

He’d trusted Calliope to honor his wishes, yet there Cassandra was, the nightmare of his past.

Fuck a Christmas turkey. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Cassandra didn’t look any happier about this than he did. In fact, she looked downright miserable. Not angry. Miserable.

Shit.

He’d never wanted to see her again, talk to her again, think about her again, but all he’d been doing for the past three years was think about every goddamn thing that had gone wrong in their marriage. And he’d done a lot of blaming—mostly blaming Cassandra for his failures.

Maybe Calliope was right, and it was time to talk it out. If he and Cassandra could have a civil conversation that lasted five minutes.

He strolled toward her, and she came toward him, looking as wary as he felt.

She was still as beautiful as he remembered—even more so, her long blond hair straight and pulled back into a ponytail. She wore heels, some fancy black coat and a party dress.

“You come from a party?” he asked as they stopped a couple feet from each other.

“Real-estate event, yes. A holiday party, like yours.”

“How’s business?”

“Good. I hear yours is going very well.”

“It is.”

“Wyatt. Is there someplace less…busy…where we could talk?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Yeah.” He led her through the lobby and into one of the private ballrooms that wasn’t having an event tonight, flipped on the lights and pulled up a chair at a dressed-up table that was set up for some luncheon tomorrow.

She slipped off her coat and he grabbed a chair, straddling it to face her.

“It’s been a long time,” she finally said.

“Yeah.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. Wyatt didn’t know where to start, what to say. For years he’d thought of nothing but the words he’d say to her if he ever saw her again. Angry words. Hurtful words. Now, seeing her, she looked small, vulnerable, not the pit viper he’d conjured up in his head all these years.

“Calliope forced me to come here,” Cassandra finally said. “She browbeat me, said the two of us left things…open. That there was so much animosity between us, neither of us could move on with our lives until we had closure.”

“She’s good at pushing people into doing what they don’t want to do.”

Cassandra laughed. “She’s pushy. Always has been.”

“I love that about her,” he said, then lifted his gaze.

“It’s okay. I know you two have been seeing each other for a while. It’s all right, Wyatt. I think it’s well past time we both move on, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“You two are a good fit. You and I never were.”

“You’re right about that,” he said, and found himself falling into conversation with her easier than he thought he would. “I fell in love with the prettiest girl in town. I put you on a pedestal, and projected everything I wanted out of life on to you, expecting you to toe the line. I was blind to the fact the things I wanted weren’t the same things you wanted.”

For the first time, she smiled. “I did the same thing. You were the boy all the girls in town wanted, so I set my sights on you. Then I thought I could turn you into the man I wanted you to be, but you were never that man. I was wrong to try and change you.”

“So we both screwed up.”

She laughed then. “We should have never gotten married. We were never right for each other.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Her eyes glistened with tears. “I’m sorry, too.”

This wasn’t what he expected. She wasn’t what he expected. All these years, he’d had an image of her in his head, and she wasn’t that person at all.

“Are you happy now?” he asked.

“I am. I’m getting there. I love my job, and where I live. I’m seeing someone who treats me well, and we do want the same things. I’ve learned to be honest about what I want—and what I don’t want. I have learned from my mistakes.”

He inhaled, let out a long breath. “Yeah, I’m still learning, obviously.”

She laid her hand over his. “Do you really love my sister?”

“Yes.”

“No hesitation. I like that.” She stood. “I love her too. She’s perfect for you.”

He needed to ask, needed to know. “Does that hurt you, that I’m in love with Calliope?”

She paused, tilted her head. “Not at all. I think maybe we’re both moving on, don’t you think?”

“I think so.” They both stood and he helped her with her coat. “I’m sorry for the pain.”

She hugged him, and he realized he felt nothing. No anger, no bitterness, nothing at all.

She turned around and smiled at him. “I wish you happiness, Wyatt. And I’m so glad Calliope forced us into this. I hope we can work on being friends someday. Maybe even…in-laws?”

He smiled back at her and walked her out.

Now he needed to go find Calliope, because he had a few more apologies to make, this time to the woman who really had his heart.

Chapter Eleven

Calliope paced on the back steps of the hotel, switching from angry to hurt back to angry again, then tossing in worry and angst for good measure.

Her stomach was a ball of knots. She could use her best friend and a tall margarita right now, but Tori was otherwise occupied somewhere with Brody. She made a mental note to call her tomorrow for a full recap of what that kiss had been all about.

She was going to give Wyatt another half hour—mainly because she was freezing her ass off out here—but also because he needed to cool off and so did she before they talked again.

“You didn’t leave.”

Her head shot up at the sound of his voice. He was standing at the top of the stairs.

“You’re not wearing a jacket,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s freezing out here. Where’s your coat?”

“Inside.”

“Then let’s go inside before you freeze to death.”

“Calliope. Aren’t you mad at me?”

“Furious. But I don’t want you to get sick and it’s cold out here. I’ll yell at you inside.”

He shook his head and helped her up the stairs and inside.

“Where would you like me to yell at you?”

He punched the elevator button and they rode up in silence to the penthouse floor. She noted the floor, but otherwise stayed silent, figuring she’d have plenty to say when they got to wherever they were going.

When he pulled out a key card and slid it into the penthouse suite’s door, she turned to him. “Really?”

“Yeah. Figured we’d live it up tonight.”

“Huh.” He pushed the door open and held it while she walked in. When he flipped the switch, she resisted the urge to gasp.

The room was opulent. She’d always wondered about the penthouse suite at this hotel. Now she didn’t have to wonder anymore. It was lavish, decorated in creams and blacks, with marble flooring, floor-to-ceiling windows and more square footage than her entire house.

“Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you,” she said, pulling off her coat and laying it over a chair. As she rubbed her chilled hands together, she walked to the window, surveying her entire town in one sweep. Beautiful.

But she wasn’t here to enjoy the view, so she turned to face him.

“I know I meddled, that you asked me not to contact Cassie and have the two of you meet. But here’s the problem, Wyatt. I love you. And you’re never going to be whole until the past is firmly in the past where it belongs. And maybe I don’t do things the right way all the time, but I’ll always have your back. I’ll always want what’s best for you. So you know what? What’s best for you is me.”

“You’re right.”

She pause her train of thought. “What?”

“You’re right. About all of it. I did need to talk to Cassandra. We both needed to exorcise the past. We both did things that were wrong, but I was the worst. I had it in my head that she was the enemy, and all this time I carried this giant grudge. She wasn’t the enemy. She was just the wrong woman for me.”

“You talked to her.”

“Yes. It’s over for good now. We mended fences.”

Some of the tension dissolved and she dropped her shoulders. “Oh. Well, I’m glad. Better now?”

He came toward her. “A lot better. I feel light now, Calliope. Like a weight was lifted off me.”

She nodded. “Good.”

He picked up her hands, slid his thumbs over them. “The past is gone now. All I want to think about is the future. The only person in my future is you.”

Her heart squeezed.

“I love you, Calliope.”

“I love you too, Wyatt.”

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I’m probably going to say I’m sorry a lot over the next fifty or sixty years, so get used to it.”

Her heart did a little song and dance, fluttering in her chest. “Okay.”

He dropped to his knee. “I want to marry you. I want to have kids with you. A lot of kids. I want you to move into my big house that you fell in love with, and raise those kids with me there. I like dogs. Do you like dogs?”

She swiped at the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “I love dogs.”

“Good. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Of course. Yes.”

He stood and pulled her into his arms, kissed her in that way that never failed to make her feel a little bit faint.

“I love you, Wyatt. I want to marry you. I want to make babies with you—FYI, as soon as humanly possible. I want as many dogs as you can tolerate underfoot—kids too, for that matter. I’m yours.”

He smoothed his hand over her hair, her face, her lips. “You are the rarest gift. I’m a very lucky man to have found you, and it isn’t even Christmas yet.”

She gave him a wicked smile. “No, but you might be getting your gift early. Wait ’til you see what I’m wearing under this dress.”

He reached for the zipper in back of the dress and pulled it down. “Now that’s a challenge I accept.”

Her skin broke out in goose bumps, her body flaming to his touch. Her dress unzipped, he drew it off her shoulders and let it pool at her feet. She stepped out of it, and Wyatt’s eyes widened.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he said, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her body.

She’d splurged on a fire-engine-red, lace-and-satin thong with a matching demi-bra that barely contained her breasts. With her shoes still on, she knew she looked like a wicked temptress. She felt like one. And when she dropped to her knees to undo Wyatt’s belt buckle, he let out a litany of curses that only served to drive her arousal to danger levels.

He kicked off his shoes while she unzipped and removed his pants and boxer briefs, then took his shaft in her hand and stroked it before taking him in her mouth to show him how much she loved every part of him.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, removing the clip she’d put her hair up with earlier. He wound his hand around her hair and held her while she engulfed him, taking him in deep, until he let out a low groan and pulled her to a standing position and swept her into his arms.

“When I come, it’s going to be inside you.”

“Without a condom,” she said as he laid her on the bed.

“You would risk me knocking you up before we’re married?” he asked, his expression one of mock horror.

She laughed. “Well, I am still on the pill, but you did catch the ASAP part of my speech about kids, didn’t you?”

He drew her panties off, his eyes gleaming with heated desire. “Yeah, ASAP works for me, too. In more ways than one.”

He crawled between her legs, spread them and put his mouth on her. She bit down on her lip to keep from screaming as he used his tongue to take her right to the peak, and then over. When he moved up her body and entered her, he cupped her butt, lifted her against him and took her right to the edge again with slow and easy strokes.

“I love you,” he whispered as he brushed his lips across hers, using his mouth and his body to take her so close she thought she’d die from the sweet pleasure of it.

She rubbed her palm against the quickly growing stubble of his beard. “I love you too.” She wrapped her legs around him and brought him home, and when they both came together, she couldn’t think of a more perfect way to cement their love.

After, he held her against him and she listened to the sound of his heart beating against her ear.

“You really want kids right away?” he asked.

She lifted her head and turned over onto her belly to look at him. “I do. Do you want to wait?”

“No. I’ve waited my whole life for you. For this. I want to get married right away. How soon can you do that thing that women do?”

She arched a brow. “That thing that women do?”

“You know. The whole putting together a wedding thing.”

She laughed. “Oh. I don’t know. Six months?”

“So I have to wait six months to get you pregnant?”

“Hey, pregnant brides are the new black, you know.”

“Huh?”

“In other words, knock me up, stud. I’m ready.”

He rolled her over onto her back. “Have I ever mentioned I take direction really well?”

“Now who’s the rare gift?” she asked with a laugh.

But that laughter turned into something else as he kissed her, and they got down to the business of making their future.

About the Author

New York Times bestselling author Jaci Burton lives in Oklahoma and spends a fair amount of time on the back of her husband’s Harley, where she often gets lost plotting her next story as the warm (and sometimes cold) breeze whips her face. She loves reality television, is a sucker for romantic comedies, and completely loses track of time when reading a great book. She’s a total romantic and longs for the happily ever after in every story, which you’ll find in all her books.

Jaci has won the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award and has been a finalist in the National Readers’ Choice Awards and Bookseller’s Best Awards. She writes contemporary romance, erotic romance and romantic suspense, writing in the genres she loves to read.

You can find Jaci on the web at www.jaciburton.com, on Twitter at www.twitter.com/jaciburton and on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/jaci.burton.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like…Love!

A man gives the gift of trust and receives a second chance at love in return. A woman helps to heal the wounded heart of a soldier. A couple finds that true love knows no distance. And a young widow learns that there can be two great loves in a lifetime. Love, romance and passion come together in this collection of four seasonal shorts. Anthology includes:

Mistletoe and Margaritas by Shannon Stacey

A Rare Gift by Jaci Burton

It’s Not Christmas Without You by HelenKay Dimon

This Time Next Year by Alison Kent

Stories also available for purchase separately.

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ISBN: 978-1-4268-9277-6

Copyright © 2011 by Jaci Burton

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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