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Crazy For Lovin' You
Teresa Southwick
When she was a lovestruck teenager, Taylor Stevens bared her soul to Mitch Rafferty. But instead of sweeping her into his arms, the tortured rebel with the bad-boy blue eyes told her she kissed like a little girl. Mortified, Taylor shoved Mitch into the pool…cowboy boots and all!Now the tables were turned and–holy smoke!–Mitch couldn't believe his eyes. From scrawny kid to stunning woman, Taylor had sure grown up…and Mitch was itchin' to kiss her again. But the contrary cowgirl swore she'd been crazy for ever lovin' him. Would this lonesome drifter stick around Destiny, Texas, long enough to prove her wrong?



“Let me ask you something,” Mitch said. “If you’d known what I’d been through that night, would you have still pushed me into the pool?”
“Yes,” Taylor said without hesitation. “Because you deserved it. You were so mean to me, you made a hornet look cuddly.”
He laughed, but stopped quickly as memories washed over him. He met Taylor’s gaze. “You’re right. I wasn’t fit company that night. But, as I recall, I tried to warn you off.”
She shrugged and the movement reminded him that she was still pressed against him. Her soft, sweet breath fanned his face. The close proximity sent what felt like all the blood in his body to points south. That acute awareness made him think of things he had no right to, especially about Taylor.
She tightened her hold around his neck. “Would you mind putting me down?”
Mitch decided he would mind very much….

Crazy for Lovin’ You
Teresa Southwick


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my agent, Linda Kruger, for your support, encouragement and exceptional organizational skills.
Thanks for always being there.

TERESA SOUTHWICK
is a native Californian who has moved to Texas. Living with her husband of twenty-five years and two handsome sons, she has been surrounded by heroes. Reading has been her passion since she was a girl. She couldn’t be more delighted that her dream of writing full-time has come true. Her favorite things include: holding a baby, the fragrance of jasmine, walks on the beach, the patter of rain on the roof and, above all, happy endings.
Teresa has also written historical romance novels under the same name.





Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve

Prologue
“Go ’way, kid.”
“But, Mitch—”
“I don’t want to see or talk to anyone named Stevens.”
Taylor Stevens stared at the dark expression on Mitch Rafferty’s face and wondered what had happened and how fast she could change her name. Her sister must have done something. Only Jen could put Mitch’s nose out of joint like this.
If only he would notice her instead, Taylor thought dejectedly. She might be younger than he, but she was more mature than he thought. Certainly old enough to notice his sandy-brown hair, his broad shoulders that made all the girls sit up and take notice, and those bad-boy blue eyes. Especially his eyes. Whenever he looked at her, her heart beat so hard she got a little scared.
The Texas state high school rodeo championships in Abilene had just ended. Tomorrow they would go home to Destiny. It was their last night at the Lamplighter Motel and she’d found Mitch by the pool. She took a deep breath and a heaping dose of courage as she sat down on the lounge chair next to his.
Other teenagers sat nearby, but didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her and Mitch. He looked like a volcano about to erupt and she was afraid for him. Afraid of what he might do. She just couldn’t leave him alone. The feelings she had for him were so deep, so big she felt she might burst any second.
Taylor touched his arm, then started when he flinched away. “Okay. Don’t look at me. Just tell me what’s wrong, then listen while I talk.”
“Get lost, kid,” he growled. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here. I want to be alone.”
Kid? She wanted to grab his shirtfront and show him she was no kid. In fact, she would pit her fourteen years against his nineteen any day of the week and twice on Sunday.
She took a deep breath. “You’re acting like someone took away your favorite toy. At least tell me why. What’s wrong? I thought we were friends.”
“Jen and I are through.” The smoldering look in his eyes hinted that there was more. But all he said was, “I could never be friends with anyone related to her.”
Taylor’s first thought was stunned disbelief that her sister was dumb enough to let a guy like Mitch go. Her second: she was going to hell for being so happy that he was no longer spoken for.
“I’m sorry,” she said lamely, not meeting his gaze in the dim light surrounding the pool. If he looked at her he would know she wasn’t sorry at all.
Silence stretched between them. It was late and everyone else who was at the motel had turned in. Or almost everyone. Behind her, she could hear the kids around the pool talking, and muffled voices and giggles beyond the shrubs that shielded her and Mitch. On the far sidewalk, a guy with a square competition number attached to his long-sleeved Western shirt walked hand in hand with a girl Taylor recognized from the rodeo week queen’s court. Crickets chirped and the muted sound of television drifted to them from nearby rooms.
“I’m really sorry,” she said again. And she truly did feel bad that he was hurting so. When he remained silent, she added, “But she’s not the only girl on the planet, Mitch.”
“She is for me.”
Taylor cared about him more than her sister ever could. Why couldn’t he see that? How could he not know that he was the first person she thought about in the morning and the last one to cross her mind before sleep took her at night? Every waking second in between she wished she were with him, just to be in his presence, just to look at him.
Mitch had brushed her off the night before, when she’d tried to tag along with him to the lake. But now she knew he wasn’t going steady with her sister. Taylor knew it might be her best chance to make him notice her.
“What about me?” she blurted out, unable to hold back any longer. “I love you. I’d never hurt you. Not in a million years.”
Maybe if she showed him. Before she could think it over, she leaned forward and touched her mouth to his. She tasted surprise and hesitation in his unyielding mouth. Then he pulled back and stared at her. The look in his eyes made her wish she could take it all back—especially the kiss. Or better yet, if only a twister would swoop out of nowhere and dump her in Kansas so she wouldn’t have to see that bitter, cold expression on his face. He stood up, inches from the deep end of the pool. She stood, too, because he towered over her and she didn’t like him looking down at her.
“You kiss like a little girl.”
She heard laughter behind her. Her cheeks were hot with embarrassment, but it was nothing compared to the pain just starting to seep into her heart.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Even if I hadn’t sworn off women, you’ve got three strikes against you.”
“Like what?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“You’re her sister. That kiss proves you’re a baby. And you’re skinny as a—”
“I know I’m not pretty,” she interrupted, not wanting the words to come from him. He’d just rubbed salt in an open wound. “I’m not pretty yet. But you just wait, Mitch Rafferty. I’ll show you.”
Without thinking, Taylor put her hands on his chest and shoved for all she was worth. He went backward into the pool, his cold expression changing to one of stunned surprise just before he went under. She turned but she knew he surfaced behind her. The spluttering was a big clue.
She walked away before he could see that the moisture on her cheeks had nothing to do with the splash his big body had made. With every step, she vowed she would show him if it was the last thing she ever did.

Chapter One
Ten years later…
Mitch Rafferty was back in town.
And she was going to see him any minute. Taylor Stevens looked out her living room window wondering if he would be on time. As the newly appointed commissioner of the high school rodeo association, it was his job to find a site for the state championships. It was an event she desperately wanted. When she’d found out Mitch was the man who held her future in his hands, she’d been stunned. Even now she wondered which of the gods she’d offended and how she could make amends.
She needed him to pick her—or rather her ranch, the Circle S. She had a lot riding on this. But if history repeated itself, she was in a lot of trouble.
The sound of a car engine drifted to her over the hum of the central air conditioning in the house. She cracked the shutter in the front room enough to peek out. The late-model, extended cab pickup crunching rocks and dirt as it came to a halt in her circular driveway was unfamiliar. Her stomach dropped; he was here.
Ever since finding out Mitch was back, she’d been as nervous as a small kitten up a big tree. And not only because he could impact her life. Over and over she’d repeated to herself that she didn’t care about him anymore. She was a big girl now and he couldn’t hurt her.
Tell that to her hammering heart.
She turned away and took a deep breath as she brushed her hands down her khaki slacks, then adjusted the belt, at the same time making sure her buttercup-yellow blouse was neatly tucked in. No point in meeting him wearing the dirty jeans and work shirt she’d worn to muck out stalls that morning. She might be country, but she cleaned up pretty good and wanted to put her best boot forward.
There was a knock on the door and she took a deep breath as she counted to ten. Heaven forbid she looked too anxious.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, opening the door wide.
Her heart nearly stopped. Mitch was a decade older, but he looked even better than she remembered. His eyes were still bad-boy blue and hinted of mischief. His hair was the same sandy-brown, and his well-formed nose crooked enough to keep him from being too perfect. The angular face and square jaw were somehow more rugged. Why did she find that so incredibly appealing?
Right there on her front porch stood Mitch Rafferty, the same man who had two-stepped on her tender, fourteen-year-old heart. Shock sanded ten years away. Feelings that were every bit as big and deep and painful as they’d been that night engulfed her again. She wished she didn’t remember, but she did. All too clearly.
The humiliation of their last encounter washed over her as it had countless times since. It had become the standard by which she judged all disasters. She’d said way too much. Followed by a kiss that even with a decade in between made her cheeks burn now. She couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, let alone get a word past the Texas-size lump in her throat.
He looked at her for several moments before recognition jumped into his gaze. “Taylor?”
“Mitch. It’s been a long time.”
No kidding. It had taken him several moments to know her. But, she’d been a skinny kid the last time they’d seen each other. He’d told her she kissed like a little girl. If there was any cosmic justice, she would not blush at that thought. She was a grown woman now, not the kid who’d pushed him into the pool. The memory had dominated her recollections ever since learning he was the new commissioner.
Would he hold it against her? Even worse, would he recall how she’d bared her soul?
When her silence dragged on, he cleared his throat. “How have you been?”
“Fine. You?” she asked.
“Great.”
“Did you just get into town?” she asked.
He nodded. “I drove in from El Paso this morning.” He continued to stare at her. “You look great.”
“Skinny little me?” she asked, unable to resist the jab, testing the waters, so to speak. Then she smiled, hoping the nerves line-dancing in her stomach didn’t make her mouth quiver. “You don’t have to say that, Mitch.”
“I mean it. You’ve really changed,” he said grinning his good ol’ boy grin, the one that showed his even white teeth to perfection.
It was also the one that told her he said something equally flirtatious to all the girls. Although she’d tried to forget about him, over the years she hadn’t escaped reading about him in tabloid and magazine stories that had touted the sexy bull rider’s athletic and romantic conquests. Before dropping out of sight, he’d been linked to women she could never compete with. Why would he remember that they’d once been friends?
“You’ve grown up.”
“That happens in—” She paused for what she hoped was just the right thoughtful expression. “How long has it been? When did I last see you?”
Fiddle de dee, she wanted to say in her best Scarlett O’Hara voice. If God was her witness, Mitch would never know that she clearly remembered the last time she’d seen him he’d been going backward into the deep end of the pool.
“I can’t say. And I try not to think back too far.” For just a second, a frown chased away the mischief in his eyes. “Offhand I’d say it’s been a long time because I haven’t been back to Destiny for ten or eleven years.”
“That long?” she said with as much innocence as she could dredge up.
He nodded. “Give or take. These days I feel like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet.”
Just these days? He’d been wet the last time she’d seen him. But right this minute, she thought he looked awfully good. Better than good. In fact, better than he had ten years ago. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Wasn’t his hairline supposed to recede? Not only didn’t he have forty square miles of forehead, but his hair was thick and she couldn’t detect a single gray hair in the sandy color. It was cut conservatively short. She knew it would curl with a bit more length.
A man his age should have at least the beginnings of a beer gut. He had to be pushing thirty. Surely his belly had gone doughy. But one glance at his white shirt tucked into the waistband of his soft, worn Wranglers confirmed that his abdomen was washboard firm. And his long sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows, right where she thought a man’s sleeves ought to be. It was a look that got her every time.
Okay. Get a grip. There was some good news. She was no longer a lovesick fourteen-year-old. She didn’t care about him anymore. They would probably touch on her embarrassing confession of ten years ago followed by that impulsive kiss, chalk it up to high school hormones, then forget about it.
“So you don’t remember the last time we saw each other?” she asked fishing to find out what, if anything, he recalled.
“Should I?” He looked thoughtful.
“I guess not.”
He didn’t remember. Wasn’t that good news? Then why was she flirting with annoyance that her all-around most humiliating moment wasn’t important enough for him to store in his memory?
He shook his head. “All I can say is you’ve really changed.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I almost didn’t recognize you. Your hair is different.”
Of course he would remember her long, straight, unflattering mousey-brown hair. After two years at Texas A&M, her roommate had helped her find a flattering hairstyle and shown her that lipstick was good for more than writing messages on the bathroom mirror. Finally Taylor had taken her first step in the struggle to repair the confidence that a few moments with Mitch had destroyed. And her social life had soared from there. Right until a year ago when her fiancé dumped her for the woman who had once dumped him. That had reminded her how fragile her confidence truly was.
Mitch studied her thoroughly. Was there an appreciative sparkle in his eyes? Was that a glow spreading through her? A direct reaction to his subtle but nice words? Doggone it! She thought she’d prepared herself for him. Why could he still get to her? She’d worked so hard to nurture a spine along with her self-esteem. Two minutes facing Mitch Rafferty, once known as Texas’ most eligible cowboy, and the glow he generated threatened to melt her backbone into slush.
She realized he was still on the porch. “I didn’t mean to keep you standing out there. Please come in. Where are my manners?”
In the manure heap along with her self-confidence.
His boots rang on the wooden floor as he stepped inside. “Thanks.”
One word, just a single syllable, but uttered in his deep voice and it was enough to shake her up as surely as a tumble from a stubborn horse.
She shut the door, closing out the beginning of May warmth. It wasn’t hot yet, not like it would get in August. But she’d set the inside thermostat to keep the interior comfortable. She didn’t want to give him any reason to thumbs-down her ranch for the event. Getting even with her would be reason enough. But only if he remembered, and knew how much she was counting on a go-ahead.
He stood in the entryway, sliding his black Stetson through his hands as he looked around. A frown drew his eyebrows together. What was he thinking, she wondered. Her glance swept the area. To her right was the living room with the flagstone fireplace that dominated the large square area. Two blue and green plaid love seats, with a simple oak coffee table between, sat in front of it.
To her left was what her family had always called the parlor, also with a large fireplace, this time brick, and a new, expensive, state-of-the-art reclining sectional in front of a big-screen TV. Beyond that was the dining room and the kitchen. The dark wood floor extended throughout all the rooms on the first floor. The house had been built in the 1930s and the land it stood on had been in the family for several generations. The money she’d spent on new furnishings was part of her plan to see it stayed that way.
“How’s Jen?” he asked.
She should have known he was remembering the other member of her own generation. Her sister. Before she could prevent it, there was a dull pain right near her heart. “Jensen is fine. She works in Dallas,” she added.
Best let him know up-front that he wouldn’t be seeing a lot of her. At least not in Destiny. In case that was why he’d come back.
“A lawyer?” he asked.
“She specializes in family law.”
She tried like crazy not to let it bother her that he remembered Jensen had always talked about becoming a lawyer. No doubt they’d told each other all their hopes and dreams. He’d barely recognized her, but remembered that Jensen had always wanted to be an attorney. Even though she’d broken his heart by eloping with someone else. Did he still not want to see or talk to anyone named Stevens?
“So what have you been up to for the last ten or eleven years?” she asked to fill the silence.
His gaze settled on her. “Rodeo. At first.”
“I heard you gave up your scholarship.”
“Seemed like the thing to do at the time.” He frowned and the thundercloud expression on his face took her back to that night by the pool.
She wanted to bite her tongue. In all these years, she hadn’t managed to activate the mechanism in her brain that would refine or remove anything stupid on the way to her mouth. Or maybe it was Mitch Rafferty who deactivated it. She never could think straight around him.
Nervously she tucked a bothersome strand of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen? Can I get you a glass of iced tea?”
“I’d like that.”
She held out her hand for him to go first and he found his way as surely as if he’d been there only yesterday. She hated herself for noticing that the back of him was almost as impressive as the front. Broad shoulders tapered to his trim waist. His backside, hugged by impossibly soft and worn denim, was practically a work of art. And that was strictly objective female appreciation for an above average looking man. Because she had no feelings for him whatsoever.
But when her hormones subsided, she noticed that he limped slightly. She recalled reading a small blurb about an injury, but the celebrity magazine articles mostly proclaimed that his playboy points matched his impressive rodeo stats. Was there more to his story? Probably. The fact that he was acting commissioner of the high school rodeo association was a clue.
The fact that she wanted to hear every last detail just made her a candidate for crazy. She needed him to look at the ranch and tell her it would work just fine for his purposes. Then she prayed that he would go away and never come back. But she’d opened her mouth and offered him iced tea. Taking back the offer probably wasn’t the best strategy to win friends and influence people.
The kitchen was arranged in a large U, part of which formed a bar with stools. Instead of sitting on one of them the way he’d always done, he invaded her work space inside the U, parking himself with his back propped against the beige ceramic-tile counter. She felt his gaze on her as she pulled the pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator beside the stove and opened the cupboard above to retrieve a glass.
More memories came flooding back as she poured the amber-colored liquid and handed it to him, not easy to do with trembling hands. She’d poured him iced-tea all those times she’d kept him company while he’d waited for Jen to come downstairs. She tried to clamp the lid tight on the details but failed miserably at forgetting how she’d pined for him, hoping and fantasizing that a miracle would happen and he would notice her. That someday he would wait downstairs for her to get ready to go out with him.
“How did you wind up in charge of the high school rodeo association?” she asked. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you were once the state bull-riding champion, would it?”
“You remember that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
A muscle in his jaw contracted for a moment before he continued. “As you pointed out, I gave up my scholarship to join the pro rodeo circuit. I did okay that first year, although I wasn’t the overall point winner. But I took nationals in Wyoming. I was nineteen. It was a sign to make hay while the sun shines, so to speak.”
“Then what?”
“I rode the crest for two or three years until—”
“Until what?” she encouraged.
“I had a couple of injuries,” he said as if it was no big deal.
She decided to mimic his tone and keep it light. “Really? Imagine that. Riding a ton or two of ticked-off bull is hardly more challenging than a merry-go-round at the Texas state fair,” she teased.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Yeah” was all he said. “All the hits were to my right leg. The third injury was bad. The doc said one more and I might never walk again—at least not on my own two feet.”
The words tugged at her heart in spite of all her warnings to harden it. She knew how much rodeo had meant to him. It was all he’d talked about. “Oh, Mitch, I had no idea. I didn’t mean to—”
He held up his hand. “It’s okay. I managed to take it in stride,” he said with a grin. “Pardon the pun.”
His smile kicked the butterflies in her stomach into fluttering again. She thought she’d reined them in. Apparently that was something else she’d been wrong about.
“That still leaves out a couple steps—pardon the pun,” she said.
His grin widened. “I went back to school.”
“But your scholarship?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t need it then. Not like—”
He stopped, but she knew what he’d almost said. In high school he’d been a poor kid in a foster home until the state turned him loose at eighteen. Then he’d been on his own and needed that scholarship if he wanted a chance at a higher education. That’s why she’d been so stunned when he gave it up.
“So you went to college?” She leaned back against the counter and folded her arms over her chest. A large space separated them, but it wasn’t enough to blunt the force of his appeal. Or the way he could stir up her emotions without even trying.
“Yeah.” He set his tea on the ceramic tile beside him. “I got my degree in business from UCLA. Then I started R&R Development.”
“I’ve heard of it,” she said. The only thing she hadn’t heard was that he owned it.
“You have?”
She nodded. “I read the business section of the paper every day. Your company has been mentioned a couple of times for projects pending here in Texas. By all accounts it’s a company to watch.”
“I’m working on it,” he said. “But I missed the rodeo.”
“Who wouldn’t? Everyone should be stomped into the dirt by an angry bull at least once a day.”
She couldn’t help laughing and he joined her. Rewind ten years—to before everything had gone wrong. That’s how she felt. Putty in his hands. For just an instant. Just until she shut it down cold. She didn’t ever want to go there again. She was through loving men who loved someone else.
“How did you get sucked into volunteering?” she asked.
“That’s an interesting choice of words.”
Not really, she wanted to say. He was young, a hunk and a half, so many buckle bunnies, so little time. She wanted to say she knew him, at least she had. Ten years ago he was a loner who didn’t play well with others. The high school coaches had courted him for team sports but he’d turned them down flat in favor of bull riding. But she didn’t say anything. She just looked at him.
“Okay.” He crossed one booted foot over the other as he continued to lean against the tiled countertop. “Dev Hart called me.”
“Really?”
Dev had a ranch in Destiny and had taken over the stock business from his father. He supplied animals to rodeos all over the country. He and Mitch had rodeoed together in high school. She and Dev were friends.
“Yeah. We’ve kept in touch. The association was in a real bind when the commissioner resigned. Work and family obligations he said. I don’t have those.” He let the sentence hang there. “Dev thought I might be interested in helping out. Since I have business dealings in the area.”
So he wasn’t married. All the willpower in the world couldn’t prevent her insides from doing the dance of joy. But she got the feeling there was more, a still deeper reason. “And?”
“He put the bite on me. It’s no big deal, just temporary. I wouldn’t have agreed to a permanent position.”
“Dev must have had some clue that you would even consider doing it.”
“I guess he did.”
“So what was it?”
“He knew rodeo saved my life.”
Mitch wasn’t sure what had made him say that, especially when he saw the surprised look on Taylor’s face. She tried to hide it, and he found it amazingly appealing that she couldn’t.
There was something about being back in Destiny. More specifically back in this room with Taylor Stevens. He’d been telling the truth when he’d said that he’d hardly known her at first. She had changed—in all the right places. Her light brown hair was shoulder-length and the layers were streaked with gold highlights. Brown eyes full of spirit and intelligence challenged him. She’d been just a kid the last time he’d seen her. That night—
The longer he stood in this kitchen, back on the Circle S, talking to Jen’s little sister, the more he remembered. Feelings washed over him—frustration, yearning, anger that burned into rage and a feeling of helplessness that he rode like a broken-in saddle.
“Saved your life?”
“You know as well as I do that I’m a kid no one wanted.” Not even your sister, he thought. “I could have gone either way.”
“I know your background.”
“That’s a polite way of saying my father walked out before I took my first breath on earth and my mother took off with a construction worker when I was ten.”
“I bet no one’s used that nickname in a long time.”
“Riffraff?”
Why was she bringing all this up? he thought angrily. Taylor already knew and he’d spent all his life trying to live that down. Didn’t make any damn sense.
“That’s the one. It’s ancient history,” she said, completely unimpressed.
He almost smiled. “Not to me. It’s who I am. But I’ve come to terms with it.” That was only half a lie. “But back then, bull riding was all I had. I was good at it.”
“You were the only person I knew who was meaner and madder than those bulls.”
He grinned. “Back then I had reason to be. But I learned some important lessons.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “Don’t keep me in suspense. What did you learn?”
“Don’t nod your head unless you mean it.”
“A bull rider’s number one rule you used to say.”
“I’m surprised you remember that.”
She lifted one shoulder. “I have a good memory.”
Unlike him, he finished for her. There wasn’t much good to remember about that time. Which brought him to his other favorite rule. “I found out there’s something more important than that.”
“Which is?” she asked.
“Don’t count on anyone but yourself.”
He saw the shadow that crossed her pretty face and wondered about it. But not enough to ask. He wasn’t here to get reacquainted. Although he didn’t remember that intriguing indentation in her chin. And he couldn’t help thinking how much fun it would be to explore.
“I don’t think you learned the right lesson,” she said. “Who taught you that?”
“Your sister. Rodeo week. The night I found her having sex with Zach Adams, who just happened to be the overall point winner at the state championships.”

Chapter Two
“I didn’t know you’d found out about them like that,” she said, her already big eyes growing wider.
Mitch looked around the kitchen, anywhere but at the shocked expression on Taylor’s face. When he finally met her gaze, his irritation dissolved just enough to let a little guilt seep in. He’d wanted to shock her, he realized. Why? Because she reminded him of everything he’d worked so hard to forget? Including his shabby background? If that was the case, he’d sunk to a new low. Or was he just living up to Destiny’s low expectations? It really didn’t matter. The truth was out and he couldn’t say he was sorry—except about Taylor. There was something still innocent about her.
But he’d thought her sister was, too, and she’d thrown him over for another guy. Why would Taylor be any different? Not that it mattered. Because he wasn’t looking. But something about her appealed to him. For that reason alone he reminded himself to watch out for her.
Still, it was a stretch for him to believe Taylor hadn’t known about him finding the lovers in Zach’s car. The two sisters had always been thick as thieves. Although he didn’t remember much about Taylor, his gut told him she wasn’t that good an actress.
“Jen didn’t tell you how we broke up?” he asked.
“I didn’t know about her and Zach until after they’d eloped.” Her dark eyes were sad and angry at the same time.
He casually lifted one shoulder. “How did your father take it?”
“Better than I expected.”
“So I came in a distant second with father and daughter.”
Her gaze shot to his. “She didn’t plan it, Mitch. It just happened. She fell head over heels in love and—”
“And stepped on anyone who stood in her way,” he finished. He didn’t care about Jen anymore. Why was he rehashing this? To push Taylor away? There was no need to do that. She was a member of Destiny’s founding family and her father had made it clear that he hated Mitch’s guts. Or at least the fact that Jen liked him. Taylor probably shared her father’s conviction and had a low opinion of him.
“Jen would never have deliberately deceived you.” A shadow clouded her face. “I think it all happened fast and she couldn’t bring herself to hurt you. I know my sister. I know how badly she felt.”
“Then it’s real hard for me to believe you didn’t know about them.”
And didn’t tell me, he silently added.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Is your last name Stevens?”
“No one set out to make a fool of you, Mitch.”
Whether he believed her or not, the fact remained that it happened ten years ago. He hadn’t thought about Jen in a long time. What was it about coming back to Destiny that churned everything up again?
“You’re right. I apologize.” He rubbed a hand across his neck.
“That first year on the rodeo circuit must have been hard on you,” she said. “Seeing Jen and Zach all the time.”
The last thing he wanted was her pity. “Only because I came in second.” She opened her mouth to say something and he jumped in. “The competition was good for publicity. They milked it for all it was worth.”
“Until Zach was killed.” Her gaze searched his face. “Were you there?”
He shook his head. “I was sitting that one out. A pulled muscle.” But he’d heard. He’d tried to contact Jen. But he’d missed her or she hadn’t wanted to talk to him. Either way, it was a long time ago.
“She got her life together and moved forward.” Taylor released a huge sigh. “But they had so little time together. It’s so unfair.”
Unfair? No kidding. But he could give lessons in unfair. The woman he’d believed was his had tossed him aside for his rival. Ten years ago, Jen had done what she’d had to. That was that. He’d gotten over her. Only one other time had he taken a chance. Another big mistake. These days he made it a point not to let down his guard for any woman and there was no reason to relax it now.
He glanced around the kitchen, and noted the copper cow trivet just to Taylor’s left on the counter. The black-and-white bovine teakettle resting on the cook-top. Feminine touches were everywhere. Homey touches. Emptiness kicked up inside him like rheumatism on a damp, cold day.
“I learned something else you might want to think about,” he said more sharply than he intended.
“What’s that?”
“Life isn’t fair. And folks don’t much care about fair. They make their minds up and nothing short of an act of God will change it. They pretty much assume the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree. And my family tree didn’t have any fruit—except for me. Or roots, either, for that matter. Your dad reminded me of that on a pretty regular basis.”
“I know. But I can tell you’re not bitter,” she said, then bit her lip to stifle a smile.
“Of course not.”
The corners of his mouth turned up and the movement felt rusty. He’d forgotten how she could do that, even at fourteen. She was even better now. In just a few words she’d pointed out what an idiot he was making of himself and made him smile at the same time.
“You’re right about Dad,” she said. “But it probably wouldn’t do any good to say I’m sorry.”
“Nope. It was a long time ago.” He folded his arms over his chest. “It’s water under the bridge.”
“Is it?” she asked. “With Jen, too?” She looked like his answer meant a lot to her.
“Yeah. I’m not the same green kid. And you said Jen’s moved forward. Now that she’s married, probably with a couple kids—”
Taylor shook her head. “There hasn’t been anyone else—since Zach.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“As pretty as she is?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer she continued. “She was busy with college and law school, then her career. But I think it’s more than that. She’s a one-man woman.” There was an edge to her voice, as if she was trying to convince him of the fact.
“Are you a one-man woman, too?”
Her cheeks flooded with color and her gaze lowered to his shirt collar. “We’re not talking about me.”
“But we could.”
She shook her head. “No. I’d rather talk about you.”
He nodded. He had nothing to lose by laying his cards on the table. “Okay. After Jen I moved on.”
“I know.” Her gaze didn’t quite settle on his. “I still remember the stuff in the media. How did it feel to be on the Most Eligible Cowboy in Texas list? A buckle bunny in every port?”
“I think that’s the navy. And don’t believe everything you read,” he warned her.
The tension in her body said she wanted to climb back in the saddle and ride that one until she’d gentled it. But he wasn’t going there. He was a bachelor, but definitely not eligible. He’d once heard nothing was as bad as your first love gone south. The hurt of it was something you never forgot. Jen was smart, beautiful, socially accepted, the kind of woman a guy like him wasn’t supposed to have. And he’d found out he couldn’t have her.
“I’m glad Jen’s okay. I wish her all the best in her life,” he said. “I don’t hold a grudge, Taylor.”
“I’m glad,” she said fervently. “I wish my dad could see you now. What a success you are.”
Would he be such a success if Zach had lived? He liked to think the rivalry made them both better and that he would have beaten Zach Adams. The only thing he’d ever wanted was to be number one, fair and square. Now he would never know.
“I heard your dad passed away.”
She nodded. “Heart attack. A little over a year ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “He wasn’t a hard man. In fact just the opposite.”
“If you say so.”
“He just had trouble showing his feelings. Even with Jen and I. It was his way of building character. But he never missed a school or sporting event. I don’t think he disliked rodeo as much as he worried about me participating.”
“You knew him better than I did.”
“You’re right. And he would be glad you’re so successful.”
“Yeah. And pigs can fly,” he scoffed.
“It’s true. In fact, you remind me a lot of him.”
“Them’s fightin’ words,” he said.
She cocked her head to the side and her eyes twinkled. “Did you just make a joke?”
“If it gets out I’ll deny it. And wherever he is, I don’t think your dad would take kindly to you comparing me to him. You’ll be dodging lightning bolts if you’re not careful.”
“Go ahead. Make fun of me. But he wasn’t a man to let on that he cared about the people in his life. It was only okay to be openly emotional about the ranch. I think you hide your softer side like that, too.”
“I used to. When I was younger. But I had a lot to prove back then.”
She slid him a speculative, appraising look. “So what does your softer side care about?”
“Like I said—rodeo.” It was safe to care about that. It was business and only as personal as he cared to get about anything.
“So you’re not really back to prove something?” she asked, looking as if she could see something he couldn’t.
He shook his head. “I’m here to make sure there are championships. That’s all.”
He still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to Dev’s suggestion that he fill in as commissioner. He’d meant to say no and the next thing he knew, he’d agreed.
“Obviously you know I’m interested in having it here?”
He nodded. “Dev Hart told me. We’ve kept in touch. I suppose you already know that he took over the stock business from his dad.”
Taylor nodded. “We still feed and take care of some of his rodeo animals.”
“That’s right,” he said, feeling as if a video in his head was replaying pictures. More to himself than her he said, “I used to work at the gas station in town to earn the ten bucks a ride your dad charged to let me practice on the bulls. That’s how I first met your sister,” he added, then kicked himself.
He thought he’d forgotten all that. Was it the familiar surroundings bringing it all back?
“So what did you and Dev talk about?” she asked, ignoring the personal and turning the conversation back to business.
Fine with him, Mitch thought. He needed to end this stroll down memory lane. “Dev supplies prime stock to local rodeos as well as events all over the country. When I asked him if he had any suggestions for a site to hold the championships, he suggested the Circle S. I have to admit I was surprised—until I heard about your dad’s passing. He wasn’t a big rodeo supporter.”
“That’s not completely true. He raised stock to sell for the events. He just wasn’t happy about me barrel racing. Watching me compete took him away from the ranch.”
He grinned, as a memory flashed into his mind. “You were the quickest little thing I ever saw. Fourteen seconds the last time I saw you ride.”
“I never raced again after that.”
“Why not? You had so much potential.”
“As you said, I didn’t have my dad’s support.” Her frown said there was more, but she closed up tighter than the chute after the bull got out.
“I’m surprised you remembered my time.”
No more than he was. He’d suppressed almost everything that happened back then. But now memories—about her—were surfacing in spite of himself. She’d been a kid back then. But she was all grown up now. And pretty. Too pretty for his peace of mind.
“Your time was the same as your age,” he said.
“I’m impressed,” she commented, looking anything but. In fact she looked as if she was waiting for the other shoe to fall. “Memory by association. Good technique.”
“Is that flattery?”
“Heaven forbid. Your ego’s twice the size of Texas now.”
He laughed, charmed by her straight talk. He’d had enough insincere compliments to last a lifetime. Women came on to him, wanting to hang around for their own selfish reasons. “About the rodeo—”
She leaned back against the counter on the other side of the room. “So Dev told you I’d be interested?”
He nodded. “Said you’ve got a project in the works and it would help you out.” He’d been real curious when he’d heard that.
“You already know the ranch,” she said nodding. “Why do you have to inspect it?”
A good question. His first instinct had been to look elsewhere. But he owed it to the hardworking rodeo kids to find the best location to showcase their talents.
“My memories of the Circle S are from ten years ago, when I was just a kid. I need to see that you can handle the crowd, the animals. That the facilities are in good shape. There’s a lot more to it than putting out the date and time. We have equipment, vendors, supplies, not to mention a budget.”
She smiled. “Spoken like a genuine businessman.”
“If the boot fits—” He shrugged.
Her smile lit up her face like the town square at Christmas. His responding flash of heat took him by surprise. She was so the girl-next-door, kid-sister type. But there was something about her, something different from the sketchy details he remembered.
He studied her more closely. Brown eyes warm and welcoming as expensive brandy looked bigger and more beautiful than he recalled. Her face had softened into a woman’s, along with her body. She was still small, but she’d filled out in all the right places. The cotton shirt she wore emphasized the shape and size of her breasts. She wasn’t stacked like the groupies who had pursued him on the circuit, but she would fit a man’s hands perfectly. She would fit his hands—
He shut the gate on that thought before it had time to form. How she would feel was on a need-to-know basis and he didn’t need to know.
But he couldn’t stop himself from looking. He continued his assessment to her trim waist in khaki slacks that showed off her slender legs. He couldn’t help wondering how she would look in a worn pair of jeans, soft enough to caress her backside like a lover’s hand. He would put money on the fact that she could have every guy in a crowd slack-jawed and bug-eyed. Just an impartial, impersonal observation. Nothing more. She was a woman any man would be proud to have by his side.
Any man but him.
“Would you like me to show you around, or do you want to check out the place on your own?” she asked.
After the thoughts he’d just had, he would be nuts to accept her offer. Common sense told him to go it by himself as he always did. But before he could get the right words out, he heard himself say, “I think it would be helpful if you gave me the tour.”
Helpful to whom? Beneficial to what? Certainly not him. Women had been kicking him in the teeth since he was ten years old. He would much rather have done business with Taylor’s father. At least the man was up-front about the way things were. No surprises. God, Mitch hated surprises.
“Okay,” she said. “My truck is in back.”
“Let’s take mine,” he countered.
“Are you one of those guys who’s prejudiced against women drivers?” she asked, one eyebrow lifted with undisguised challenge.
His gaze snapped to hers and he saw the twinkle there. He grinned, his blood warming to her fire. “What if I am?”
“Then we’ve got more problems than whose truck to take,” she said.
“How so?”
“My last name is Stevens. I’m in charge. And you’re going to have to deal with me.”
“I don’t have a problem with that.”
“You’re sure?” she asked, as if there was something he should know.
“I’m positive.”
It was the Lord’s honest truth. As much as he wished otherwise, he was looking forward to dealing with her—more than he’d anticipated anything for a long time.
“Good,” she said nodding. “Then let me point out that I know this ranch like the back of my hand. If I drive, you’ll be able to see more.”
“Okay. Your point is well taken. And there’s nothing I’d like more than being chauffeured by a pretty lady.”

“So what do you think?” Taylor asked Mitch.
“What do I think?” he mused.
She had parked her truck beside the barn and they walked the short distance to the corrals. They stood side by side with their forearms resting on the top of the fence. Well, he was standing in the dirt and she was on the first slat, but their shoulders were even—and the occasional brushing together generated a sizzle of awareness. Actually more like sparks which created a serious fire hazard in her parched heart. What would it take to fan the embers into flames?
Taylor tried her darnedest not to notice the subtle scent of his aftershave, or the warmth of his body beside hers. She tried hard to shove the sensations to the back of her mind. She had more important things to worry about. Like getting the contract for the championships. Like forgetting that he was not the angry man who had told her she kissed like a little girl. Now he was very much a man. And she was a woman, standing close enough for her to feel the unbridled effects of his masculinity.
Her breath caught when his gaze met hers. She’d seen the Pacific Ocean on a cloudless, blue-sky day. She’d marveled at the breathtaking water that glittered like diamonds, yet wondered what dangers lurked below its surface. Even in the shadow of his hat Mitch’s eyes glinted, too, and she couldn’t help questioning what was going on in his mind.
“Tell me what you think,” she said again.
“The ranch looks good,” he said carefully. “Even better than I remember. You’ve made some changes. Are you ready to tell me about the project you’re working on?”
No, she wanted to say. She was afraid to let him know how much she needed him. It was bad enough when all she’d had to worry about was his memory of what she’d done ten years ago. But now she knew how he’d found out that the girl he loved had loved someone else. She knew better than anyone how deep that hurt could go.
If he’d waited for revenge, time had supplied him with the perfect means. All he had to do was hold the rodeo somewhere else. Her plan wouldn’t necessarily fail, but it would take her a lot longer to succeed. Time was her enemy. The added boost of publicity right out of the chute would give her a leg up on a win.
Maybe she could sidestep his question. “What are you looking for in a rodeo site?” she asked.
He thumbed his black hat higher on his forehead. “Lots of land, first off,” he said. “There has to be room for vehicle parking and that includes horse trailers and campers. You’re not too far off Interstate 20, so that’s a plus.”
“What else?”
“Space for portable grandstands and food vendors, a freestanding corral big enough for the events.”
“I’ve got that,” she said pointing to the areas encircled by pipe fencing. “Three arenas, and one is long enough for the barrel racing, goat tying, and pole bending events.”
“I noticed. What I want to know is why.”
“Why what?” she asked.
“Why you have three. What do you need them for and why is the dirt soft and churned up?” He met her gaze again and asked, “What have you got up your sleeve?”
“You make it sound like I’m trying to pull a fast one.”
“I didn’t mean to.” He turned away from the corral and leaned back against the fence, folding his arms over a pretty impressive chest.
To distract herself from his masculine pose, Taylor took the brunt of his full-on stare. Then she stepped off the fence and stood up straight. “I’m getting ready to open the ranch to visitors.”
“You don’t mean a dude ranch,” he said, looking as shocked as when he’d gone backwards into the pool.
She nodded. “B&B, Texas style. The arenas are for activities—riding, roping. If a greenhorn takes a tumble, soft dirt is more forgiving.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s softer and—”
He shook his head. “I meant why are you altering the operation from a working ranch?”
“It will still be a working ranch. As long as there’s breath in my body I’ll do that kind of work. But I think that will add to the charm. This is something I’ve always wanted to do—take people with harried lifestyles and show them what silence is like. Give them a taste of a traditional Western lifestyle.”
“And?”
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. Anyone in Destiny could tell him if he asked. “I needed to do something not so closely tied to agriculture. Drought, beef and feed prices, all that can make a financial difference.”
“Why is that so important now?”
“I’ve got a mortgage.”
“Since when?” He frowned. “I thought your dad owned the land outright. Did something happen?”
“He died. Mom put the ranch up for sale.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Why does that surprise you?” she asked, studying the expression on his face.
“Your family is proud. A pillar of the community. Landowners in Destiny for several generations. It just wouldn’t occur to me that a Stevens would sell out.” A frown settled in his eyes, making his expression dark.
Was he thinking about her sister? Jensen had sold him out with another guy. At least Mitch believed she had, even though her sister had followed her heart.
She sighed. “My mother was born and raised in North Dallas, a sophisticated city girl through and through. She was happy here as long as my dad was alive and running the operation.”
“But not after he was gone?”
She shook her head. “She missed him. And there were too many memories here. He inherited the land so she had no emotional connection except through him.”
“But to sell it out from under you,” he said. “That seems a little harsh.”
“Even for a Stevens,” she finished for him.
“You said it, I didn’t,” he answered with a shrug.
“Not that it matters, but she was a Stevens by marriage.” So much for water under the bridge and not holding a grudge. It would be best not to count on any help from him, she decided. “Mom needed the money for retirement in Dallas,” Taylor explained. “She couldn’t stay here and didn’t have the resources to get away. It was her only choice.”
“And you couldn’t let the land out of the family.” It wasn’t a question.
Vaguely she wondered how he’d known her so well. “I guess I’m like my dad in that way. It means something to me that there’s been a Stevens on this ranch as far back as anyone can remember. Roots that deep are hard to pull.”
“I’ve done pretty well without roots.” His mouth hardened into a tight, straight line.
“I’m not rubbing your nose in it, Mitch. I’m just explaining why I’m in charge now.”
“Okay. But why a dude ranch?”
“I’m excited about the prospect of having guests and showing them a way of life that I love. And—” She stopped, wondering if she dared expose even a hint of weakness. But she had little to lose in telling him. “I think I can make this place profitable.”
“What happens if you don’t?”
That was something she’d tried not to think about. All her energy had gone into positive planning. She kept telling herself failure was not an option. Now she was almost ready to open the chute and she was scared to the bone.
“Taylor?”
“If it doesn’t work, I could lose the ranch,” she said quietly. “Mom and Jen would help, but I want to do this on my own.”
“I’m guessing that by holding the championships here you’ll get publicity and word-of-mouth endorsements.”
“That’s right. If the right folks have a positive experience, the PR would be invaluable. Not to mention—”
She stopped. She was already lucky he hadn’t laughed her from here to Fort Worth. There was no way he would actually help her unless it served his needs at the same time.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said. She turned away and started back toward the house.
Mitch fell into step beside her. “Tell me.”
“First you tell me whether or not you’re going to give me the go-ahead to have the event here.”
They walked in silence for several moments. He stuck his fingertips in the pockets of his jeans. The memory came to her like a lightning bolt illuminating a pitch-black sky. He always frowned and stuck his hands into his pockets when he was deep in thought. Why did she have to remember that? She didn’t want to recall anything about him or what had happened in the past.
It was a cruel and twisted cosmic joke that she found herself and her future dependent on the man who had no love lost for her family, and every reason to stand back and watch her fall flat on her face. She wasn’t the one who had hurt him but she had a feeling that wouldn’t matter. She suspected Mitch didn’t have a lot of experience with forgiveness. But it had been ten years. Everyone changed. Even a mixed-up kid nicknamed Riffraff Rafferty.
“Mitch?”
He glanced at her. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. There’s still another site I have to check out.”
“At least tell me if you think the Circle S will work.”
“If you tell me what you were going to say.”
Were they destined to deal with each other by dangling carrots when they wanted information? Was that any way to run a rodeo? She wished she could tell him to just let her know when he made his decision. But she had too much riding on it to walk away now.
“I was going to say that an endorsement from a famous champion bull rider would go a long way toward getting the word out.” She raised one eyebrow. “That someone like you could inspire national attention—even from nonrodeo people.”
“Free publicity?” he asked, but there was a grin turning up the corners of his lips.
An answering smile made her own mouth twitch. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I didn’t major in ranch management at A&M for nothing. How can you go wrong with something free?”
They were approaching the pool and Jacuzzi she’d invested in. It made good sense that guests would want to relax and cool off after a hot dusty ride. Her goal was to lure customers with the ranch experience at the same time giving them all the comforts of home. Unfortunately the sight of the pool made her distinctly uncomfortable. Would it tickle his memory of that night ten years ago at the Lamplighter Motel?
If she’d been thinking, she would have parked on the other side of the house. But she hadn’t had a single coherent thought since opening the door to devil-may-care Mitch Rafferty. She just hoped there wasn’t hell to pay.
Please don’t let him notice the pool. Or if he does, give him temporary amnesia or selective memory loss.
As they got closer, she insinuated herself between him and the pool area. If only she were taller and could block his view. Not a chance of that. He could easily see over her head.
She pointed in the opposite direction. “Look at those clouds. Do you think we’re in for a storm?”
He turned to see what she meant, then glanced back down at her. “No. Those are just wispy, nothin’ clouds.”
As they continued walking, she held out her hand to show him something else. “I plan to plant flowers over there,” she said, hoping to distract him. Just a little bit farther and she would be home free. “To spruce up the place and give it color.”
He looked at her. “Okay.”
“And over there,” she said, directing his gaze to an empty spot beside the house. “I’m considering a vegetable garden.”
“In your copious free time?”
“Why not?”
“Since when did you become a farmer?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting.
“I’ll do whatever it takes, be whatever I have to be to make this work. If I can help it, no one outside the family will get their hands on my land.”
“Your determination is commendable.” He stopped beside the pool and looked down into the crystal-clear water. When he met her gaze again, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “But even if I choose another site, your ideas are still sound. You shouldn’t have any trouble pulling in tourists.”
“Not fast enough.”
“What do you mean?” He asked the question but he glanced over his shoulder at the water. When he looked back, the expression in his bad-boy blue eyes sent a shiver down her spine.
She touched his arm to draw his attention back to her. Unfortunately the warmth of his strong forearm heated the skin of her palm and got her attention in a big way. She pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned. In a way she had.
“If it doesn’t happen this year, then next would work. Or the one after that,” he said.
She shook her head. “I’ve got a year. After that my capital is gone. The ranch has to be paying for itself by then. I have a limited publicity budget and this would be the best way to let people know about my operation.”
“I see.” He glanced over his shoulder at the water again, then back to her. “I don’t remember the pool being here.”
She wanted to tell him to forget about it but she held back. She had a sneaking suspicion he’d just remembered everything. “It’s new. Are you leaning toward giving me the contract?”
“The Circle S meets all the criteria.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “But I wouldn’t want to plunge into anything. Before I have all the facts.”
She swallowed hard. “Facts are good.”
“Especially all the facts so you don’t do something you’ll regret. Not that I learned that from you.”
Without warning, he scooped her into his arms as easily as if she were a rag doll, and held her over the pool.

Chapter Three
Mitch knew Taylor had been acting funny. Eventually he realized it was because she wasn’t sure whether or not he remembered her pushing him into the motel pool ten years ago. Two could play that game. He bent his knees and lowered his arms in a sudden movement, as if he was going to drop her. She let out a high-pitched squeak and hung on to him.
He liked the way she threw her arms around his neck. But he especially liked the way she felt, pressed up against him, all sweet and feminine—with curves in all the right places, including the soft mounds molded to his chest. Her breasts. Those were definitely new, at least to him. The last time he’d seen her, when she’d plastered herself to his front and kissed him, she’d been flat as a panhandle prairie.
Not anymore.
He swallowed hard, locking his gaze onto her face, taking in her big, beautiful brown eyes. And her mouth—so close, so kissable. All he had to do was lean forward just a bit and steal a taste. What the hell was he thinking? The answer was easy. He wasn’t. At least not with his brain.
“Let me ask you something,” he finally said. He couldn’t resist keeping her in suspense a little longer.
“What?” She glanced at the water below her before meeting his gaze again. “You’ve got me over a barrel, so to speak. Ask away.”
“If you’d known I found your sister and Zach together that night, would you still have pushed me into the pool?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Because you deserved it. You were so mean to me, you made a hornet look cuddly.”
He laughed, but it died quickly as memories washed over him—recollections of the one time in his life he was almost happy. His first love. Jen was the girl every guy wanted, and he’d thought she was his. Until the night he’d found her and Zach together. Mitch hadn’t known about them, and finding them like that had sent him over the edge.
He’d lost it. Punched the guy until Jen managed to pull him off. After which she’d angrily told him she never wanted to see him again. They took off and he’d gone to brood by the pool, betrayed, angry and wanting someone else to hurt the way he was hurting. That’s how Taylor had found him. She’d told him she loved him and innocently kissed him. And he’d lashed out at the one person who had given him nothing but friendship.
Only a long time later did he regret it and the fact that he hadn’t had a chance to tell Jen the truth about Zach before she married him. After he’d died there was no point.
He met Taylor’s gaze. “You’re right. I wasn’t fit company that night. But as I recall, I tried to warn you off.”
“We were friends. By definition friends try to help when there’s a problem, even if it gets ugly. I don’t run out on the people I care about.”
“Did you care about me?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged and the movement reminded him that her breasts were pressed against him. Her shapely thighs and trim waist nestled to his belly. Her soft, sweet breath fanned his face. The triple whammy sent what felt like all the blood in his body to points south. The acute awareness made him think of things he had no right to, especially about Taylor. Thinking was one thing; acting on it would be just plain stupid.
“Speaking of problems,” she said, tightening her hold around his neck, “would you mind putting me down?”
Mitch decided he would mind very much. Besides, no one had ever accused him of being too smart. When he looked into her eyes, he saw apprehension that he was sure had nothing to do with a dunking in the pool. What was she worried about? And why did it bother him that she was?
“I haven’t decided where I’m going to put you,” he said honestly.

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