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A Marriage Between Friends
Melinda Curtis


They were just friends when they got married.Jill desperately needed a father for her unborn child, and Vince Patrizio wanted to give them both his name. And if Jill could ever learn to love him, he'd consider himself a fortunate man. Then Jill walked out of his life. But eleven years later, it's Vince's turn to have his say.Arriving in Jill's sleepy California town, he has plans to transform it into a mini Vegas…to reclaim his wife…and to meet the son who should have been theirs. And Vince isn't leaving until he gets what he came for.






“It’s good to see you, Jill. You look great.”


As Vince approached, his gaze drifted over her.

“You, too.” She didn’t have to tell Vince he looked better than great. He probably knew it. She could imagine the babes roaming Vegas fell regularly at his feet.

He held her immobile with his dark gaze as he continued to narrow the gap between them. She could barely remember her own name, much less his. She wanted to put up her guard, but she couldn’t lift a finger. And her feet…her feet weren’t moving either.

He wasn’t stopping. Her heart thudded against her chest.

Long arms reached for her. Settled on her shoulders and drew her to him.

Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t…


Dear Reader,

I first met Vince in Count on Love. He was angry and impetuous, and caused a lot of grief to my other characters—a bad boy in need of his comeuppance! I fell in love and began devising his romantic demise. But he was a bad boy and didn’t want to be tamed; not by me, not by his grandfather and certainly not by his long-lost wife, Jill.

And Jill? Jill is so used to staying the course—alone—that having an overbearing man around (much less an overbearing husband!) who interferes with every aspect of her life and makes her feel things she’d resolved never to feel again…well, it’s not right. She’s determined to thwart Vince at every turn, even if she and Vince were friends in school before she let him talk her into a marriage they never got around to consummating.

I hope you enjoy Jill and Vince’s journey. I love to hear from readers, either via snail mail, P.O. Box 150, Denair, CA 95316, or at my Web site, www.MelindaCurtis.com, which is full of fun trivia and monthly contests.

Happy reading!

Melinda Curtis




A Marriage Between Friends

Melinda Curtis










ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Melinda Curtis lives in Northern California with her husband, three kids, two Labradors, two cats and a circle of friendly neighbors who eagerly weigh in on everything from the best way to cut your lawn to the best haircut for a fourth grader—just what good friends are for!


To the patient ones in my life—my dh, my cat and

my editor. Good things come to those who wait!

And to the dreamers in my life—

Mason, Colby and Chelsea. It’s good to dream big.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN




CHAPTER ONE


THE THING ABOUT RELYING only on yourself was that you had no one else to blame when things went wrong.

Vince Patrizio downshifted his Porsche 911 and hugged another hairpin turn in the California gold country. This bend in the road didn’t bring Railroad Stop into view, either. Why am I not surprised?

His GPS didn’t work in the uncharted territory at the foot of the mountains and he was unable to get a solid signal on his cell phone. He was late, lost and about to lose an important deal, one that would most likely cost him his inheritance.

Vince cursed and shifted into a higher gear, the force cocooning him deeper into the cradle of fine German leather that felt as welcoming as a well-paid stripper’s back-room embrace. The car shot over a sharp rise, startling a deer next to the road. Luckily the doe ran away and down into a ravine, instead of into Vince’s path.

He took a deep breath and slowed the car. It was a beautiful early-September afternoon and the narrow ribbon of road beckoned, promising he’d end up somewhere, if not exactly where he wanted to be.

The story of my life.

He’d always been a runner-up, never a winner. Born to wealth but part of a dysfunctional family, left by his wife on their wedding night, what would Vince do but screw up if faced with success and happiness?

That was his grandfather talking. Because of a card game, his grandfather had agreed to stake Vince, but only if he could put a deal together in a year. Aldo Patrizio expected Vince to fail. And for ten months Vince had been doing just that.

Vince cursed again. He jammed his foot down on the accelerator and attacked another turn.

Red lights flashed in his rearview mirror. A siren screamed.

“Now that’s par for the course,” Vince mumbled as he coasted into one more curve before pulling over onto the narrow shoulder beneath an ancient oak tree, hoping the sheriff was as good at giving directions as he was speeding tickets.



“THIS MEETING IS ADJOURNED.” Jill Tatum Patrizio had never been so happy to raise her gavel. Railroad Stop was safe.

“No!” Arnie Eagle grabbed the mayor’s symbol of power mid-stroke, his tan fingers brushing hers.

Instinctively Jill let go of the gavel, relinquishing it to her political rival.

Why did a man’s touch still rattle her after all this time?

Laughter rippled through the standing-room-only crowd at the community center, bringing Jill back to the present. Her cheeks heated. She stood and stepped back from the old warped table.

The city councilman’s gaze remained fixed speculatively on Jill even as he said, “We’re still waiting for our guest speaker.”

That was where Jill had him. Arnie couldn’t say they were still waiting for the tribe’s venture capitalist to show up. That would be admitting a conflict of interest with his position on the city council.

More than aware of some three hundred Railroad Stop residents and her own son watching them, Jill lifted her chin and connected with Arnie’s hard gaze. She would never support a casino in this isolated town. Railroad Stop was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else and it was impossible not to feel at ease.

“I’m sorry, Arnie,” she said. “We’ve rearranged the city council’s agenda for you twice already. This town needs us to act to revive our economy. Since the Amador Tribal Council still lacks financing for its casino, the gated-vacation-home project will most likely garner our support. This meeting is over.”

Voices filled the air. People rose to their feet. Arnie’s Native American cronies began to circle him, but Jill could still feel his eyes on her. Other attendees stood and chatted or ambled out to clog the aisles. It seemed everyone but Jill was reluctant to leave, an indicator that Jill’s phone would ring off the hook with calls from citizens both for and against the casino come Monday morning.

Eager to make an exit, Jill managed to reach Teddy, her ten-year-old son, and Edda Mae, her former boss and mentor. They inched their way through the throng. Edda Mae tapped a woman’s shoulder with a sun-mottled, wrinkled hand and asked if they could squeeze past her. They were halfway up the side aisle and still had the rear of the room to cross.

“I would’ve liked to hear what Arnie’s man had to say,” Edna Mae said.

“Not me,” Teddy piped up. “Grown-up speeches are boring, especially Mom’s integer speech.”

“That’s integrity,” Jill corrected, edging around a particularly large gentleman engrossed in a heated discussion about the merits of a casino versus a vacation subdivision. “Don’t knock it. That’s what got me elected.”

“You were the only one who ran,” Edda Mae said.

“That doesn’t mean no one else cares,” Jill grumbled, bumped from behind by someone.

There was a commotion at the exit doors.

“Either Arnie’s man finally arrived,” Edda Mae said, “or the Staitin brothers picked a fight again.”

Jill wasn’t sure which was worse.



ALDO PATRIZIO wasn’t listening. The conference room at the Sicilian in Las Vegas was full of pompous men in designer suits who thought their college degrees made them more qualified to run a luxury casino than the man in his eighties who’d founded it in the first place. At least when his grandson, Vince, sat at this table, there had been some interesting ideas and a man with backbone to present them.

Che peccato. It was a shame that after Vince returned from Iraq they’d shouted themselves into a corner neither was willing to back out of.

Aldo snorted and the suit currently babbling in front of a projection screen froze in midsentence. When the man resumed, he spoke louder, as if Aldo had trouble hearing him. Aldo could hear just fine. He just didn’t want to listen to people who’d barely cut their teeth in the gambling business try to tell him what to do. What he did want was to pass the reins of the Sicilian to his grandson and spend more time with his beloved Rosalie.

Instead, Vince was off trying to prove himself by brokering a deal—a deal that had seemed important to both of them ten months ago—while Aldo had to sit and suffer through meetings with MBAs (Masters of Baloney, Advanced).

“In conclusion—”

Good, they were almost done.

“Our analysis has shown that independent casinos fail over time if not infused with a good deal of capital.”

Aldo narrowed his eyes at the audacity of the speaker, who cleared his throat and continued, “Therefore, we recommend that the Sicilian formulate exit strategies from current partnerships, such as the ones with the Tatums, that we cease efforts to enter the Native American gaming segment, and that we seriously reconsider recent buyout offers from two different casino magnates.”

“Enough!” Aldo slapped his palm on the mahogany table and glared at his chief financial officer. “What is our occupancy rate?”

The man rotated his chin as if his tie was too tight. “Over ninety-eight percent.”

“How do our room rates compare to others along The Strip?”

“We charge five percent more on average.”

“And our restaurants. Do we still have five-star ratings at all of them?”

Heads bobbed silently around the room. A bigger collection of jamooks he’d never seen.

“And our casino profits, are they also above average?”

More nodding heads.

“Then why would I want to sell?” Aldo slapped the table again for good measure.

When no one answered, Aldo stood, willing his old knees to hold up as he nailed each traitor with his glare. “I pay you to bring my vision to life, not to create a new one.”

Next thing you knew they’d be declaring him incompetent and trying to take over the control of his casino!



“IT’S HIM.”

“He’s here.”

Vince stood in the open doorway only a moment before arms pulled him into the packed community center like fans welcoming a rock star.

This is good. This is better than good.

“Let him through,” a man bellowed from the front of the large, ancient hall.

“The town council meeting is over,” said someone from the far side of the room. It was impossible to see who it was in the sea of faces or, over the noise, make out more than that the speaker was a woman.

“Then we’ll call a meeting of the Amador Tribal Council. I hereby call this meeting to order.” A man with distinguished gray in the dark hair at his temples took up a position behind the front table. With the strong features and bronze skin, he had to be the tribal chairman, Arnie Eagle. Vince had spoken with him several times about providing the bulk of the financing for a casino.

Chairs scraped and banged as people fought for a seat. A few men hurried to fill the spots at the table while others moved to stand behind them.

Pausing only to tug his starched cuffs farther down his wrists, Vince pasted on his warmest smile and walked to the podium.

“Good evening. I apologize for being late. My name is Vince Patrizio.”

Someone in the crowd made a strangled noise. Chairs creaked and he heard his last name muttered throughout the room.

A nugget of his prior conversation with Arnie returned.

“Are you related to—”

“Yes.” Vince hurriedly cut off the chairman’s question during their initial phone call, assuming that Arnie wanted to know if he was related to Aldo Patrizio, the self-made tycoon.

Vince needed to find out if his grandfather’s name was an advantage or a deal breaker. Meanwhile, his smile never faltered. “I may have been invited here at the request of the tribal council, but I hope that when I’m through most of you will see the benefits of a casino in Railroad Stop. Indulge me for a moment as I recap the advantages of having such a facility in your area.”

Off to his right, someone scoffed, someone Vince would have to deal with soon, just not in front of such a large audience.

Vince spoke briefly of job opportunities, the tax dollars that would go to improving roads and schools, as well as the fact that Railroad Stop could control how big the casino would be. Vince hoped for big. “Raising a family, paying the bills and building a community all take hard work and vision. I encourage you to talk amongst yourselves, to foster healthy debates like this one.”

“You haven’t invited us to debate you. Big companies don’t usually care about small facilities.” A woman’s voice. From the right wall. Heckler Central.

There were several murmurs of assent.

Who was this woman? Vince couldn’t tell. And he wouldn’t validate her remarks by acknowledging them. It didn’t matter. The time for discussion would come later, after he’d created a platform of enthusiasm and support.

Vince continued as if uninterrupted. “If you feel a casino built to represent the character and heritage of the area will help bring to life the vision you have for Railroad Stop’s future, I’ll be happy to help you achieve that.”

His comments were met with a healthy dose of applause, but Vince wasn’t fooled. Deliberately, he turned to his right, preparing a friendly smile for the vocal naysayer he needed to win over. As if on cue, all the others in the crowd angled their heads toward one woman as well, unwittingly pointing her out.

Despite the mutinous expression on her face, she avoided his gaze. She wore flannel and blue jeans like most of the crowd, but that didn’t hide her polish. She wore the casual clothes with style.

A vein throbbed in Vince’s forehead. It wasn’t his grandfather the murmuring crowd had been thinking about.

The tremble of Jill’s auburn ponytail gave away that his wife wasn’t happy to see him.

The feeling was mutual.



“HE’S GOT OUR last name.” Teddy bobbed and weaved in front of Jill as he tried to catch a glimpse of Vince. “Why is that?”

It could have been Jill’s imagination that everyone within five feet of her stopped talking and leaned closer, anxiously awaiting her answer, but it wasn’t, which was why she chose to ignore her son’s question. Several townspeople were already streaming down the aisle with eyes on Jill. And those that weren’t had Vince in their sights. The crush of inquisitive people forced Jill, Teddy and Edda Mae back down to the front of the hall, toward her husband. It was easy to pretend in the chaos that she couldn’t hear anyone’s questions directed her way.

“Is he your man?” Edda Mae asked, the tanned skin around her eyes wrinkled, more than usual with the width of her hopeful smile. “I bet he’s come to claim you.”

“If he wanted to, Vince would have come after me years ago.” Jill’s limbs trembled.

In the eleven years they’d been married Vince had become a shadow of her own making, always with her but never truly there. Silent and malleable, her image of Vince had been perfect for Jill. Until the real man showed up supporting the wrong cause.

And flashing his pearly whites at Arnie.

“Time to go, Teddy.” Jill nudged his shoulder.

The crowd at the front of the hall parted to let them through. And why wouldn’t they? Jill was providing enough fodder for a year’s worth of gossip. And now she had to pass within arm’s reach of Vince to leave.

“Are you going to ask him why we have the same last name?” Teddy spun about and grabbed her arm, tilting his head up so that Jill could see the impish grin on his face.

“No.”

“Can I?”

“No.” Jill gently turned her son around and continued working her way toward the exit. The last time she’d seen her husband he’d been asleep on the couch in the house her parents had given them as a wedding gift and she’d been tiptoeing out the door. He’d never asked for an explanation for her departure and she’d never offered one.

Jill was now close enough to take in Vince’s crisp haircut, the fine thread count of his jacket as it stretched across his broad shoulders, and the smile that had melted more than one girl’s heart. At least his leather shoes had a layer of dust on them. Otherwise he’d have been fashionably spotless, whereas she looked dowdy in her worn jeans and shirt.

Vince was listening intently to the council chairman, Arnie Eagle. He wouldn’t even notice her leaving. It was probably her imagination that he’d recognized her at all.

As Jill drew even with Vince’s shoulder, she couldn’t resist saying half under her breath, “I won’t let you build a casino here.”

Vince held up a hand, stopping Arnie midsentence—no small feat—and turned to Jill, his dark gaze commanding. “We’ll discuss that—and more—later.”

Teddy’s eyes were as big as saucers.

“Ohhh,” Edda Mae sighed as if this was a scene in one of her beloved romance novels.

Without a word, Jill made her escape. It wasn’t until her hand hesitated with the key in the ignition that she realized she’d nodded her assent.



“YOU’VE BEEN very patient.” With the rolling gait of a veteran horseman, Arnie escorted Vince out, his flashlight illuminating the dirt road.

“Everyone deserves their questions answered,” Vince said. Arnie didn’t realize that nothing was ruining this one for Vince, not potholed roads or long-lost wives who tossed down the gauntlet without so much as a how’ve you been.

“But you’re probably anxious to see your family,” Arnie said, unable to hide his curiosity.

Vince bit back a bitter laugh. Jill wasn’t family. He knew she’d settled in Railroad Stop. But he hadn’t expected her to treat him as if he’d been the one who left.

“I’ve got four of our tribal-council members behind this project. Our vote is just a formality if your offer is fair.” Arnie’s voice dragged Vince’s attention back.

He smiled. Vince was willing to take a chance on Arnie. A graduate of Stanford, Arnie had made a respectable fortune selling his interest in a dot.com before the industry busted. Even if the casino venture wasn’t a sure thing, Arnie and his colleagues had conducted an environmental-impact study last year and hired an architect to draw up plans. They were further down the path than any other tribe Vince had contacted recently, and his best bet.

“Then comes the challenge,” Arnie said. “Getting Railroad Stop to agree. We’ll have one more town meeting and then the city council makes a recommendation and the citizens vote. If it weren’t for our mayor, I’d say we’d have a really good chance.”

At least now Vince knew what, or rather, who, was priority number one. “Leave the mayor to me.”

Arnie chuckled. “I plan to.”

Before Vince had a chance to ask Arnie more about the mayor they reached his car.

“Is this fancy rig yours?” Arnie stopped and bathed Vince’s black Porsche in the beam of his flashlight. “You’ll need four-wheel drive come November.”

“Not very practical for up here, is it?” Vince allowed, not that he planned to drive anything else but the sleek bullet. Venture capitalists had to look successful. Appearances were everything. “Can you give me directions to the nearest hotel?” It was best to get that business over with early so he could focus on the mayor. He would check in and then head over to Jill’s.

“There are no hotels in Railroad Stop. You could drive about forty-five minutes down the mountain to Mokelumne Hill, but there’s a storm brewing and it’s going to get nasty.” Arnie paused, watching Vince carefully as he said, “You should probably just head on over to Shady Oak. Jill bought the place from Edda Mae last spring. She’s got enough beds to spare, I’m guessing.”

Vince’s thumb paused on the car remote. “I thought you said there were no hotels in town.”

“Jill doesn’t run a hotel. She turned the Shady Oak from a kids’ camp into a fancy corporate retreat. Thought you’d know that, seeing as how you two are married.” Arnie’s gaze was speculative in the gloom.

What else didn’t Vince know about his wife? Maybe it was time to update her background check.

When Vince remained silent, Arnie cleared his throat. “You want me to tell you how to get to Shady Oak? That land we put into federal trust for the casino is in the valley below her place.”

Vince almost refused the offer of directions. And then he remembered that Railroad Stop didn’t register on his GPS.




CHAPTER TWO


“HOW’S THIS?” Teddy asked, rocking back on his heels to survey his work, a paintbrush in each hand. He had an artistic bent and instead of choosing a plain color for the background of the signs Jill planned to post against the casino, her son had created psychedelic bursts with the purple and green paint left over from the last time they’d decorated his room.

“Brilliant,” Jill said. “Just a few more and we’ll call it a night.”

They worked on the uphill side of Shady Oak’s garage underneath a floodlight. Jill had been cutting plywood into two-foot-by-three-foot pieces with a cordless skill saw while Teddy worked his magic. The eye-catching swirls of color would contrast perfectly with the important message Jill planned to spray-paint with stenciled block letters in red—NO CASINO!

She returned her saw to its case and then propped up the last two boards against the garage wall, taking another look at Teddy’s artwork, while her mind wandered. She, the daughter of casino owners, was opposing a casino. Jill could picture the worried look in her mother’s eyes, her father’s disapproving frown, and Vince’s face…

For years she’d recalled Vince’s youthful features fondly, but those images had been shattered tonight by a strong jaw, a suit he hadn’t bought off the rack, and his corporate stance. Once she’d recovered from the shock of his arrival, it had been easy to see through his words, to see that he’d become one of them—someone like her parents and his grandfather. Vince planned to milk the heart out of Railroad Stop, turning it into a miniature Vegas.

When Jill left Las Vegas eleven years ago, she’d wanted to find a place where she could feel safe, where she could take people at their word. On a sweltering Saturday, less than a week later, she’d gotten a flat tire in Railroad Stop. Edda Mae had taken one look at Jill, wilting while she waited for her car, and herded her into Bernie’s Burger Joint. In no time the older woman had pried the pertinent facts out of Jill, told her a story about one of her Native American ancestors and convinced Jill that running away never solved anything. Jill had gone to work for Edda Mae at Shady Oak the next day.

Edda Mae was the mother figure Jill had always longed for, and for the most part, Railroad Stop embraced Jill. After Teddy was born she stayed on, unable to curb her overactive imagination when it came to Shady Oak. Jill was still her parents’ daughter and the hospitality industry was in her blood. Where others might have seen a hopeless money pit, Jill had envisioned charming success. When Edda Mae was ready to retire, Jill took out an exorbitantly scary loan cosigned by her parents and employee became employer.

“So.” Teddy crouched over one of the last two boards and began creating a curvy purple road. He was a gangly kid, all knobby elbows and knees, an aficionado of bad jokes, but he was her pride and joy. “Who is he?”

“Who?” Jill tried to play dumb.

“The man from the meeting. Is he your cousin?”

“No.”

“Your brother?”

“No.” Jill half carried, half dragged one of the old wooden sawhorses back into the storage shed.

Teddy was into the lime-green paint when she returned, tracing a curvy line with the color. “Why does he have our last name?”

“All right, all right. I’ll tell you.” Wiping her hands on the seat of her jeans, Jill drew a dramatic breath. “He’s Batman and he’s taken on an alias so that he can continue fighting injustice to protect the innocent.” Although Jill didn’t let Teddy watch much television, she’d broken down and joined a mail-order video-rental service a few weekends before, introducing Teddy to the crime fighter.

“Mo-om.” Teddy stopped painting. He had a way of looking at Jill that said, Cut the BS. “I’m ten, not two.”

“It’s complicated.” Jill poked the ground with one toe. They’d talked about Jill’s separate-but-married status, but lately Teddy had wanted to know more about his father, the man he assumed Jill had married. She didn’t want to tell Teddy he was a rape-conceived child—he was too young to carry that baggage—so she’d resorted to jokes and topic changes.

Something stirred delicately near a leaf by Jill’s foot—a spider. “Eeeeeiiii!!” She leaped a yard away, stumbling backward up the slope. Just the thought of eight spindly legs creeping across her skin gave her the willies.

Teddy dutifully came over with a rolled-up newspaper. “It’s just a baby.” He scooped it up and took it behind the shed.

“Baby?” It was the size of a fifty-cent piece. “I wish you’d kill it.”

“Spiders are good bugs, remember?” Teddy’s voice was muffled. He galloped back waving the newspaper. “All gone.”

Jill shivered. “He’ll be back.”

Edda Mae appeared at the corner of the garage. “I buzzed that casino man in the front gate.”

That was what Jill got for trying to cut costs. The main gate was a quarter mile down the hill. Its intercom rang to Edda Mae’s caretaker’s cottage. It had been significantly cheaper to wire the gate controls to the cottage since it was a hundred feet closer than the apartment above the dining hall/kitchen where Jill and Teddy lived.

“Need I remind you to watch your manners?” Edda Mae asked as she melted back into the shadows. Edda Mae probably expected Jill to race down the road into Vince’s arms.

“I wouldn’t have had to mind my manners if the gate stayed locked,” Jill muttered.

Gravel crunched beneath tires on the driveway and headlights swung around onto them and then away as Vince parked out of sight in front of the garage. A smooth engine roared once before settling into silence.

He’d want a divorce. Jill spun her wedding ring with her left thumb. It wasn’t as if she was going to ask for alimony or child support from Vince. A divorce shouldn’t be a big deal, although odd as it seemed, being married to Vince was part of who she was. But if she had to choose, preserving the small-town integrity of Railroad Stop was more important than a ring on her finger.

“Jill?” Vince’s voice was deep and familiar when so much about her husband was a mystery.

A breath of cool mountain air made Jill shiver. “Over here.”

They’d gone to private school together since kindergarten. In high school, Vince was the class loner, a situation he and his perpetual scowl seemed comfortable with, especially when it didn’t seem to deter a certain type of willing girl. Jill was the brainy girl who didn’t quite fit in. Although they’d been friends of sorts since they were five, the older they got, the less frequently their paths crossed.

Then Vince had asked Jill to come watch the sunset on his boat on Senior Ditch Day. But Craig had been coming over to her house that evening and Craig was so perfect—captain of every sports team, class president—no girl would be stupid enough to turn him down. Whereas Vince…Vince was the kind of boy her parents warned her about.

Jill struggled to fill her lungs with air. Turned out Craig wasn’t so perfect, after all, and Vince…

Teddy balanced his paintbrush on the edge of the can and leaned against Jill, bringing her back to the present. “Is it Batman?” he whispered.

They both giggled. Jill draped an arm over Teddy’s shoulders as Vince came around the corner in his custom-made suit and tie, looking every inch the heir to a grand casino in Las Vegas and draining the laughter from her throat. The rebellious boy who wore a leather jacket and pierced his ear was nowhere to be seen in this man. Jill, on the other hand, had gone from put-together, studious debutante to harried, working single mom. Her stomach flip-flopped.

“It’s good to see you, Jill. You look great.” As Vince approached, his gaze drifted over her, no doubt registering the extra pounds she’d put on over the years.

“You, too.” She didn’t have to tell Vince he looked better than great. He probably knew it. Jill could imagine the plastic babes roaming Vegas falling regularly at his feet. If only she could easily picture Vince turning them down. He must think she was a pathetic pushover for hanging on to him for so long.

Vince held Jill immobile with his dark gaze as he continued to narrow the gap between them. Hugging had become de rigueur in the business world in the past ten years. Surely he didn’t…

Part of her rejoiced. That unexpected emotion was immediately quelled by a stronger, more predictable desire for self-preservation that usually gave Jill the strength to move away, raise a hand and smoothly utter an excuse for a man to keep his distance.

Only, this time she faltered. She could barely remember her own name, much less his. She wanted to put up her guard, but couldn’t lift a finger. And her feet…her feet weren’t moving, either.

He wasn’t stopping. Jill’s heart thudded against her chest.

By sheer force of will she managed to take a jerky step back. Surely he’d see her discomfort. He’d always been good at picking up on her body language, but it had been so long he probably didn’t realize. Long arms reached for her. Large hands settled on her shoulders and drew her to him.

Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t… “Don’t!” she cried, her feet suddenly obeying her mind. Her butt hit the remaining sawhorse and she would have flipped over it, but Vince held her tight.



“I’M NOT GOING to support your casino.” Wary-eyed, Jill wrenched herself free from his grip and edged around the sawhorse until it stood between them.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

“I’m…fine.” She gave her son a weak smile.

“Jill?” That unwanted protective male instinct, the one only Jill aroused, had reawakened. Vince wiped his palms, still warm from touching her, against his trousers and stepped away.

“I’m fine,” Jill repeated, hefting one end of the sawhorse and dragging it toward the open shed behind the garage. “I’m not supporting your casino.”

“I haven’t asked you to,” Vince snapped, taking the other end of the sawhorse and examining her face, hoping to find a reason for his old obsession.

Jill stumbled under his scrutiny, but kept walking backward.

On the first day of kindergarten Jill had stuck up for Vince in front of a teacher, and he’d contracted a bad case of puppy love that continued through childhood only to fizzle out less than a year after their wedding day. She was pretty enough, but no longer his type. He liked his women pouty and aggressive in bed, women who didn’t mind that he wore a wedding ring and wasn’t interested in anything long-term. Vince took note of how high up Jill had buttoned her flannel shirt.

Nope. He was definitely over her.

“Just so you know,” Jill said woodenly, “people come here to get away from it all. Having a casino at the turnoff to Shady Oak doesn’t exactly reinforce that feeling of peaceful solitude.”

Vince didn’t want to talk about the casino. “The two can coexist.”

“Not on my mountain.” Taking baby steps, Jill led him into the gloomy, crowded shed. Once the sawhorse was on the floor and the only barrier between Jill and the door was Vince, she froze, watching her husband from the shadows as if scared of him.

Of him. As if he’d been the one who attacked her. Could the day get any worse? Vince stubbornly refused to move, waiting for Jill to show some backbone. “I don’t think you own the entire mountain.”

“No.” She still didn’t move.

They stared at each other in silence for several seconds more.

With a sigh, Vince backed out of the shed and into the boy.

Craig’s son.

The vivid blue eyes and reddish-brown hair were Jill’s. Try as he might, Vince couldn’t see anything in this kid of the solidly built, blond mama’s boy who’d date-raped Jill.

“Who are you?” the kid asked.

“Vince Patrizio.” Vince offered his hand and took the opportunity to lead the boy back to the garage.

The smell of new wood permeated the crisp mountain air. From what he could see, Shady Oak was a replica of an old Western town. There were small bungalows with covered plank porches and wooden rocking chairs. The garage was painted to look like a red barn. A two-story 1800s-style building with a sign across large double doors proclaimed it to be Edda Mae’s Dining Emporium. The entire place would have looked like a kids’ movie set, except there was no landscaping, just dirt and pine trees.

“I’m Teddy Patrizio. We have the same last name.” Teddy cast a questioning sideways glance at Vince.

Vince was only half listening, still thinking about Jill’s Western corporate retreat, a concept very similar to the themed casinos in Vegas. “It’s a good last name. It’s Italian. I’m happy to share it.”

Jill hurried past, picking up a tool chest on her way to the front of the garage. Wearing boot-cut jeans, her legs looked long and Vince found it hard not to follow her every move with his eyes until he realized he had an audience.

Another sidelong stare from the boy. This one appraising. “I don’t look anything like you.”

“Teddy!” Jill turned at the corner of the building, her voice giving away her distress.

The kid leaned closer to Vince and whispered, “I know who you are.”

Premonition prickled the hair on the back of Vince’s neck and he found himself bending lower.

“Theodore Tatum Patrizio!” Jill’s gaze collided with Vince’s, a plea for help in her eyes, but Vince didn’t understand what she needed.

And it was suddenly important that Vince knew who her son thought he was.

“You’re Batman.” Teddy smirked at Vince, then winked at his mother. “Right, Mom?”

“Teddy.” Jill shook her head, looking incredibly relieved. “That wasn’t funny.”

“You’ve lost me,” Vince said.

“It was a joke.” All traces of humor gone, Teddy knelt and picked up a paintbrush as his mother disappeared into the garage. “You’re not my dad,” the boy said in a dejected voice after a few brush strokes.

Vince hadn’t expected such honesty from one so young. “No, I’m not.”

“But you’re related to me.”

Watching them, Jill hesitated at the corner of the garage.

“Well, I married—”

“Vince, no!”

“—your mother.”

“You are my dad. I knew it.” Teddy jumped up, tossed the paintbrush on a scrap of newspaper and flung his arms around Vince.

His palm landed awkwardly on top of Teddy’s soft auburn hair.

“Teddy. Teddy, let go, baby.” Jill was at Vince’s feet, pulling Teddy back to her. But the boy only clung tighter to Vince. “Teddy, he’s not your father.” Jill skewered Vince with a look.

“But you’re married.” The boy stared at his mother with eyes suddenly welling with tears.

Jill shook her head and drew Teddy away from Vince.

“But—”

“Your father didn’t want…” Jill’s voice trailed off and she looked at Vince helplessly.

Teddy cut a quick glance in Vince’s direction. “You didn’t want me?”

“Dad, I’ll be good. I promise. Don’t leave.” Trying not to cry, Vince blocked the door. But his father was bigger and stronger and had no trouble easing Vince aside. Had no trouble leaving without looking back.

“I always wanted you.” On impulse Vince put a hand on Teddy’s skinny shoulder. He’d been ready to take on the responsibility of fatherhood and give this boy the love he deserved. When he’d asked Jill to marry him he’d told her that everyone deserved to be loved, even a baby you hadn’t counted on.

“Vince, don’t build his hopes,” Jill warned.

Teddy wiped tears from his cheeks and gazed up at Vince reverently. In that moment, Vince would have done anything for the kid.

“You always think things are more complicated than they are,” Vince said softly, unable to take his eyes off Teddy.

“And you always believe you’ve found the best and only solution.”

Vince scowled and stared pointedly at his ring on her left hand. “You married me, didn’t you?” He hadn’t noticed the ring before and wondered why it was still there. There was no way she wore it for the same reason he did.

“So…are you my dad?” Teddy broke in, his bottom lip trembling as he looked from Jill to Vince.

The truth would take some of the shine out of the kid’s eyes and Vince was reluctant to do it. But the truth had to be said. “No.”

Jill spread her arms and Teddy filled them. Vince’s urge to drop to his knees and be a part of that embrace was surprisingly strong.

“Your father wasn’t ready to be a dad, Teddy. But from the moment I saw you, Teddy, I loved you.” Jill’s expression was fierce, kindling an ache in Vince’s chest. No one had ever claimed to feel that way about him. “I wanted you, Teddy. I was willing to do anything to protect you, even marry someone else, someone other than your dad, and move up here.”

Vince had been reduced to nothing more than a “someone else” in her life, not even a friend. If that wasn’t his cue to leave Vince didn’t know what was. But first he had to find out why Jill was against the casino. He needed as much support as he could get.

“But he’s here now.” His voice high-pitched and desperate, Teddy pointed at Vince. “He’s here and he could be my dad.”

Dad. This boy thought he was father material. Vince wouldn’t know how or where to begin to be a father. His own had given up on him after fourteen years. Still…

“He can’t be your dad,” Jill was saying.

“Wait a minute,” Vince said, causing Teddy to beam, which in turn made Vince’s heart swell—this little boy wanted him for a dad!

“A father is there for you every day, in every way. Vince lives in Las Vegas.”

“Oh.” Vince and Teddy were simultaneously brought crashing back to earth. Vince realized his toes were cold. Who was he kidding? No way was he father material.

Teddy wiped his face with his hands and then stood dejectedly, shifting on his long, skinny feet.

Jill kissed Teddy’s cheek. “I think we’ve done enough painting for one night. Why don’t you go on upstairs and get yourself some ice cream?”

“Three scoops?” Teddy sniffed, sneaking a glance at Vince.

“Two.” Jill wrapped her arms around the kid, only releasing him when he squirmed free. “I’ll be up soon to tuck you in.”

Teddy shuffled across the gravel driveway to a covered staircase. Vince’s anger grew with each step Teddy took as he climbed to the second story, but he held it in check until a door clicked closed.

“It’s been more than ten years, Jill. You haven’t told him anything about me.”

Jill jerked her head as if in shock, sending her auburn ponytail cascading over one shoulder. “You’re not his father, Vince.”

“But I am your husband.” Not that he knew what that meant. Vince rubbed his forehead. He hadn’t come here to reclaim his wife. Vince should just slide back into the leather seat of his Porsche and instruct his attorney to draw up the divorce papers. He reached in his pocket for his car keys, but couldn’t seem to pull them out. “I told you when I asked you to marry me that I’d love your baby as if he were my own.”

“I know.” Jill looked away and lowered her voice. “Teddy’s been without a father for ten years because of me. I had some hard choices to make, but I’m willing to live with them.” And then she did look at him, squaring her shoulders. “Besides, you only came now because a business deal made it convenient. I don’t expect you to step into the fatherhood role after all this time.”

“Then what do you expect?” But Vince knew. Money. He flexed his fingers. It always came down to money, and Arnie had mentioned her buying this place. Shady Oak couldn’t have been cheap. “We’re still married. My family made a deal with yours. It’s been quite profitable.” Vince glared at Jill. They hadn’t signed a prenuptial agreement.

“How dare you imply—”

“How dare you leave me!” Vince lost the struggle with his temper. “You got what you wanted—a name to legitimize Teddy—and I’ve let you keep it all these years, no questions asked. Well, now you can damn well answer a few of them.”




CHAPTER THREE


“PLEASE DON’T YELL.” Jill felt Vince’s anger pulse over her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d hurt him back then.

And yet she couldn’t tell him the real reason she’d left, because Vince was nothing like the memory of the man she’d carried with her all these years. He wasn’t patient. He wasn’t kind. He didn’t…

He’d never understand, and she’d had enough dreams shattered for one day.

Ignoring the way the cool air had her shivering, Jill turned her back on Vince and picked up Teddy’s paintbrush. There were two more boards to paint.

“I’m sorry,” Vince said after several seconds sounding anything but. He sighed.

Jill tried to ignore him. First thing tomorrow she’d spray-paint two powerful words on all of the signs. By the afternoon she’d have them up all over town and then she could make the guest beds, hang the linens and stock the rooms with toiletries in preparation for a new group of clients checking in Sunday afternoon.

And Vince—both the real and her fantasy version—would most likely be gone.

A pang of loneliness settled in her bones.

Of course, it could have been the cold. It was quite nippy now.

Vince’s Italian loafers moved closer as Jill splashed a curve of purple jerkily across the board. But Vince said nothing, and then his feet disappeared. A car door opened and closed.

Jill’s shoulders sagged. The Vince she’d fashioned over the years wouldn’t have let the conversation end, wouldn’t have left. He’d have stayed and faced the situation head-on.

“What kind of crazy stuff are they assigning school-kids nowadays?” Vince crouched next to Jill and picked up the other paintbrush. He’d taken off his expensive jacket and tucked his tie in the placket of his shirt.

“It’s…um…crazy.” Jill repressed the urge to smile. If the man didn’t have enough sense to leave she wasn’t going to tell him he was helping the opposition. Smooth and graceful, his line of green more closely resembled Teddy’s style than hers. It was only guilt that made her admit, “You’re good with a brush.”

Vince flashed her the smile he’d given the tribal council.

“But this isn’t rocket science, so I’m not impressed.” Jill went back to her own stiff lines as the wind rustled through the branches above them. The storm that was supposed to pass through during the night was building. The road to Mokelumne was tricky enough in daylight. Add darkness and rain and it was dangerous. “You’re not Monet. You can paint faster.”

“I don’t think Teddy would appreciate something just thrown together.”

“You’d be surprised.”

A faint roll of thunder sounded in the distance. The boards were on the east side of the garage sheltered by an overhang. They’d be protected tonight. If Vince didn’t leave soon, Jill wouldn’t be.

“Switch brushes.” Jill dipped her brush in purple and handed the dripping mess to him.

Vince was more meticulous in his pass-off. The green didn’t so much as dribble off the brush when he gave it to her, reminding Jill how graceful he was. She’d always struggled to be the polished sophisticate, while he could carry off class in worn jeans and a T-shirt. He was probably an accomplished lover, too.

“You’re smearing the paint,” Vince pointed out. “You’ve got a big black blotch where the green and purple mix. Why don’t you turn that one over and start again?”

It was on the tip of Jill’s tongue to tell Vince the blotches didn’t matter. By tomorrow there’d be something covering up her sloppy work. “This will do.”

“Here. I’ll fix it.” Vince edged closer, reaching his arms in front of her so that he could pick up her board. Long arms, long fingers, long—

“It’s fine.” That self-preservation kicked in again. No longer cold, Jill elbowed Vince back into his own space, sending a glob of green paint flying onto one of his fine Italian-leather shoes. She snatched up a scrap of newspaper and tried to wipe the goop off, but the paint had already soaked into the leather, leaving a dime-size mark.

“I’m sorry. I’m always such a klutz.”

“Some things never change.” Vince laughed, a rich sound that seeped into Jill’s system and made her want to relax until she looked in his dark eyes and saw the same lure of heat that had made her heart pound when she was a teenager. Now her heart nearly stopped. Was she destined to be simultaneously intimidated and drawn to Vince?

As if sensing her confusion, Vince let his laughter fade away. His gaze trapped hers.

Thunder grumbled in the distance.

“You say that like it’s a good thing.” Turning away, Jill slapped paint on the last bare corners of her board. The wind had picked up, quivering the tree limbs overhead. “It’s getting late. You need to go before the storm comes.”



WHAT HAPPENED HERE?

One minute Vince was convinced Jill was out to fleece him and the next she had him eating out of her hand, only to send him away as if she hadn’t noticed the sparks between them. Which, considering their past, shouldn’t surprise him.

Vince had driven out to Shady Oak for some answers and had come up empty. Jill had ignored his demands to know why she’d left and he’d forgotten—forgotten—to ask her why she wasn’t going to support the casino. Frustration burned beneath his skin, and the pent-up energy demanded release.

Vince fired up the Porsche, toying with the idea of gunning it down the driveway as if he were a broken-hearted teenager. Maturity won out only because the gravel would pepper his fenders. Instead, Vince backed out quickly and took off with just a bit more gas than was wise.

The sky ignited with lightning, and thunder bellowed so close it shook the car.

His headlights picked up a smoking pink housecoat.

Vince slammed on the brakes. He’d almost taken out an old woman in curlers walking her poofy, volleyball-size, white dog. And indulging in a pipe.

The thunder faded away.

Vince’s heart started beating again. He turned off the engine, left the lights on and hopped out into the windy night. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”

Silver curlers glinted in the car’s beams. The old woman drew the pipe slowly from her mouth. “I nearly peed my pants. Think Moonbeam piddled herself. How ’bout you?”

Relief had him grinning. “Pretty damn close.”

Moonbeam’s white hair stuck out like porcupine quills, but whether that was from fright or her natural state, Vince didn’t know.

“Name’s Edda Mae. I buzzed you in the gate.” The woman drew on her pipe, sending wisps of smoke curling into the air. “Saw you speak in town. I had hopes for you, boy.”

“The project is in the early stages. Don’t give up on me yet.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ about your money.” Edda Mae gestured with her pipe to the glowing windows above the Edda Mae’s Dining Emporium sign.

Vince glanced up at Jill’s place, allowing the woman to make assumptions. Jill had left Vegas and made something of herself while he’d flailed around without a clear purpose. A better man might not have felt jealousy. In any case, he’d get this casino off the ground despite Jill’s opposition, and then he’d finally feel as if he’d accomplished something.

Fat drops fell in a faltering pattern around them.

“Shouldn’t be out in this weather. You got a place to stay?” Edda Mae’s gaze was piercing.

“No.”

“You best park that thing over here. Don’t know why young bucks need to drive like they’re havin’ bad sex.” She turned toward a miniature house on the downhill side of the garage. “Fast, fast, fast. What a waste.”

“Beg pardon?” He couldn’t have heard her right.

“The rain’s come,” Edda Mae said, her eyes trained on the rocky ground as she walked away. “The road won’t be safe. You’ll have to stay here tonight. Best hurry before I change my mind, boy.” As Edda Mae climbed the steps to the narrow covered front porch, the rain arrived with a roar, sending Vince scrambling for cover.

A few minutes later he sat on an antique brocade love seat with worn-out cushions and wood trim that creaked every time he breathed. The small cottage was crammed with an eclectic mix of possessions—Native American baskets and pottery, a short section of picket fence leaning against a wall, a 49ers calendar from two years ago—and smelled of tobacco. Moonbeam sat just out of reach and stared at Vince with dark, beady eyes.

“Whiskey?” Edda Mae asked, seemingly unconcerned that she was entertaining in her pink chenille robe and curlers.

“Beer?” he countered.

“Coffee?”

“Black. Let me help you.” Vince leaned forward to stand, but Moonbeam started yapping. Vince sat back again.

“Moonbeam doesn’t like strangers in the house. Best stay where you are. Besides, Jill gave me one of those newfangled coffee machines last Christmas.”

Vince slid to the end of the couch. The little beast pranced along with him, growling. Vince scowled at her. They were still having a face-off when Edda Mae came out with two mugs.

She handed the steaming one to Vince and then parked herself in a big brown recliner. “You aren’t a dog person, are you.”

“Never had one.” The ceramic mug was too hot to hold. Vince set it on a coaster on the antique end table.

Still growling, Moonbeam tilted sideways along with his arm. All it would take is one swift boot…

Edda Mae took a swig from her cup and studied Vince through faded brown eyes that seemed too knowing. “Everybody should have a dog. They’re man’s best friend.”

Vince shook his head. Moonbeam’s nose twitched. The dog was annoying but cute. He could never really hurt her.

“Ever own a cat?”

“No.”

“Canary?”

“No.”

The rain came down with hail-like ferocity. Moonbeam licked her chops as if anticipating an Italian snack.

“That’s just not right.” Edda Mae imbibed a bit more and then pinned him with squinty eyes. “You ain’t been around for Teddy.”

Vince opened his mouth to explain that he wasn’t the boy’s father, but thought better of it. Moonbeam’s snarl filled the air, instead.

A framed picture of Jill holding a baby with ruddy cheeks and a gummy grin caught his eye. “You watch out for Jill,” Vince observed, feeling unexpectedly empty. “I should go.”

If Vince slept on the antique love seat, he’d have to hang his legs over the side, and he was certain to wake up with kinks in several places.

“No need. I’ll get you set for the night. Jill’s an early riser.”

Edda Mae stood with the exacting precision of one who doesn’t always feel stable on her feet when she first gets up. “Come along.”

Ignoring Moonbeam’s noisy protests, Vince steadied Edda Mae, moving her toward what he took to be a closet where he guessed she kept the extra bedding.

Edda Mae dug in her heels. “I’m not going to let you into my bedroom, young man. We’ve only just met.”

He released the old woman. “I’m sorry. If you give me a blanket, I’ll make the bed.” Vince tried not to look at the love seat.

Now it was Edda Mae’s turn to take his arm, steering him toward the door. “You’re not sleeping with me. You’re sleeping with Jill.”

Much as the idea appealed to Vince, he was sure Jill would think differently. “Why don’t you put me in one of those guest cottages?”

Edda Mae pulled on a neon-pink hooded slicker over her curlers and robe. “We had the exterminator in this afternoon. Ain’t nobody staying in those rooms until they’ve been aired out and wiped clean. And we can’t start that until tomorrow.”

Frowning, Edda Mae looked Vince up and down, then handed him a small purple umbrella with pink polka dots. “Which is why you’ll be sleeping with your wife tonight.”




CHAPTER FOUR


“I THOUGHT married people lived together.”

“Most of them do.” Jill had finished reading Teddy a chapter of his book, raising her voice to be heard above the rain beating on their roof. Now her throat felt scratchy.

Eyes averted, Teddy plucked at his comforter. It was lime green and matched one of the walls she and Teddy had painted. “Are you going to live together?”

“No.” She’d been surprised to see that Vince still wore his wedding ring. Because of Craig, Jill used hers like a shield. Vince had no reason to wear his. “We don’t have a marriage like other people. In fact, I don’t know how long we’re going to stay married. I doubt Vince will come back.”

More plucking by Teddy.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Can’t we keep him? As my dad?”

“No! He’s a person, not a pet.”

“Everybody else has a dad but me.” Teddy gave Jill his best puppy-dog eyes.

“You know that’s not true.”

Teddy tugged at the comforter some more. “I think I’ll go to sleep now.”

“Teddy?”

“I’m really tired.” He rolled over to face the wall, leaving Jill no choice but to turn off the light and wish him good-night.

As soon as she closed Teddy’s door someone knocked on the front one, followed by a muffled, “It’s me. Edda Mae.”

“What’s wrong? Did the power go out in your cottage?” It was really storming now and there was no reason for Edda Mae to be up. As quickly as she could, Jill undid the old chain, flipped back the dead bolt and turned the lock on the handle.

“Surprise,” Vince said, looking windblown and more handsome than he had a right to, hugging the rail as Edda Mae traipsed past him down the stairs.

“Edda Mae?” Jill’s cheeks heated. She should have made sure Vince left thirty minutes ago.

“Storm’s here. Remember your manners,” Edda Mae called.

The wind rushed up the stairwell, past Vince and his duffel, dancing around Jill’s bare feet.

“Should I walk her back?” Vince glanced after Jill’s meddling surrogate mother, a small purple umbrella clutched in his hand.

“Did she pull that frail-old-woman act on you? She’s steadier on her feet than a mountain goat and just as stubborn. She’ll be fine.” At least until the morning when Jill gave her a piece of her mind.

Vince nodded absently. Neither of them spoke. The rain continued to pour.

“I should go,” Vince said eventually. Yet he stood there staring. At Jill.

For about two seconds, Jill considered making Vince drive in the storm. Water gushed out of the rain gutter below. The route down the mountain was treacherous; and anything could happen on a night like this—mud slides, hidden potholes, unexpected pools of water. It wouldn’t take much for someone unfamiliar with the road driving a sexy little sports car a bit too fast to end up stuck in a ditch. Or worse.

“I suppose Edda Mae told you about our cottages. All I’ve got to offer you is the couch.” A lumpy, short couch.

“That’ll do.” Without setting eyes on it, Vince flashed Jill his dimple.

It was such a rare sight—that dimple—that it took her back to their wedding day. Jill was frozen, spellbound.

“Jill?” Vince gestured toward the living room. “Can I come in?”

Jill stumbled to the side to let Vince pass and escaped to collect a clean sheet and blanket. She took a pillow from her own bed. When she returned Vince was examining the wall where her framed photos were arranged. He’d removed his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. The T-shirt beneath fit him snugly and Jill paused in the hallway, struck with the urge to run her hands over the soft cotton, something she’d done many times to her shadow husband. But never to the real thing. She wouldn’t have the courage.

“Where was this one taken?” Vince straightened a picture of Teddy. With a grin as wide as Texas, Teddy stood on the bank of a river holding a golf-ball-size piece of fool’s gold, looking like he was trying to convince Jill he’d struck it rich.

Clutching the bedding tighter, Jill propelled herself past Vince. “The Mokelumne River. It’s not far from here.”

“Looks like you had a great time that day. My family doesn’t have pictures like this. I’m not sure why…” He wandered farther down the wall of photos.

Jill experienced a pang of guilt. Vince had mentioned earlier he’d wanted to be a part of Teddy’s life. He’d said as much before they’d gotten married, too. Why was he so attached to a child he hadn’t fathered when she…?

Jill began folding and tucking the bedding into the creases of the couch. Now she was feeling guilty about the couch, too. “This wasn’t designed for someone to sleep on. It’s short.”

“And narrow,” he added, staring at it.

She’d finished with the linens, but she couldn’t look at Vince and her mobility problem had returned. Her feet were leaden, weighted down by myriad emotions—desire, shame, confusion—all of them unwelcome. “But at least you’ll be safe and dry tomorrow morning.”

Vince sighed. “So I can be on my way.”

“Yes.” So that her life could return to normal.

“And you can try to derail the tribe’s plan for a casino.” There was no hint of recrimination in his voice. “Is Shady Oak that successful on its own?”

“I’m just breaking even.” It was painful to admit.

Jill couldn’t quite bring herself to look at Vince. “The key to Shady Oak’s success is in our luxurious accommodations and isolation. Wireless service doesn’t work here. Without the daily distractions of e-mail and cell-phone calls, my clients can focus and be more productive.” Her parents had alternately complained and praised that aspect of Shady Oak on one of their rare visits. “Edda Mae is a wonderful storyteller. She has a Native American story with a moral to fit every situation. We promise at least one story each booking.”

Vince was frowning at his BlackBerry. “And the vacation homes?”

“The plan I support for growth is to build a gated community of luxury vacation homes on a first-class golf course. The casino doesn’t benefit Railroad Stop residents equally—the profits will go to the tribe.”

His head shot up with the oddest expression, a mixture of wariness and disbelief. “It’s an Indian casino. What about taxes? Jobs? Which will provide you with more?”

“Long-term, jobs would be a wash, I think. A successful casino might bring in more in tax revenue in the long run. But you’d have to gamble on it being special enough to be a destination, and ‘special’ costs money. There are other casinos closer to civilization in the valley that are an easier drive.”

Vince peered at her intently, then laughed. “Nice try. I think I’ll wait for Arnie’s projections.”

Unexpectedly disappointed that Vince didn’t trust her, Jill bit her lip and let her gaze fall to the floor.

Thunder rumbled overhead, filling the awkward void between them.

“You never got around to telling me why you left me,” Vince said gently.

Jill’s head shot up. “You accused me—”

“Let’s not circle back to that.” There was no anger in Vince’s expression, only compassion. This was the Vince she’d married.

“I’m not proud I left, Vince. You offered me something I wasn’t ready to take.” Jill’s voice was brittle from years of guilt. “We were kids ourselves. After what happened I couldn’t—”

“I would have waited. I told you on our wedding night—”

Hugging herself, Jill stepped back. “You don’t understand. It wasn’t about us sleeping…” She choked on the word. Jill willed herself to keep it together. “You don’t…I…I left Las Vegas because I was ashamed.”

“No one knew about Craig but you and me.”

“I’m not talking about Craig,” Jill said, tightening her arms about herself. “I was ashamed that I couldn’t be sure…that I didn’t know…You had no doubts, but I was going to have a baby that was created from an act of violence. I wasn’t sure I could love it.”

It was a rare occasion that left Vince speechless.

“I knew what it was like to grow up without love. I came second to our family casino. I couldn’t do that to another child,” Jill whispered. “And if you loved the baby and I couldn’t, our marriage would have been a terrible mistake.” A far bigger mistake than it had been.

“You could have said something,” Vince returned gruffly. “I would have understood.”

“You would have tried to convince me I’d learn to love the baby.” Vince could coerce the devil if he wanted to. Once on a class field trip to an amusement park, he’d persuaded Jill to try a crazy-scary roller coaster. Her stomach still flipped at the memory. “I was getting over the shock of what happened. By the time I realized how I felt, we were married.”

“You would have given Teddy up for adoption?” She’d never seen Vince so dumbfounded.

Jill nodded. She forced her arms to relax, brought an image of Teddy as a baby to mind and found herself smiling. “But I loved Teddy from the second I laid eyes on him.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

“Because you deserved so much more out of life than a broken woman and another man’s child.” Drained, Jill wanted nothing more than to collapse on a chair.

“At least you were right about one thing,” he said unforgivingly.

Jill bristled. She’d come clean. She didn’t need Vince’s bitterness. “I’ve got a long day tomorrow. Good night.”

Those two words rekindled the intimacy she’d felt with him earlier. Jill edged toward the hall, eyes on the floor, torn between wanting to slug Vince and needing to be held by him.

“Isn’t this funny?” Vince said softly.

Jill’s head snapped up.

“You and me under the same roof. Me on the couch. Déjà vu.” His dark eyes hinted at old hurts. “You don’t plan to run out on me in the middle of the night, do you?”

Jill’s chin came up a notch. “Teddy’s asleep. Down the hall.” She wasn’t about to leave her son. This was her home.

“He must be a sound sleeper to snooze through all this.” Vince’s half smile wasn’t apologetic or rueful. It was…

Vince couldn’t be thinking…

Oh, yes, he could. He’d been the bad boy all the high-school girls whispered about with longing in their voices. Rumors abounded about Vince, rumors based on what someone told someone else about some unknown girl at some other high school and her lost virtue.

“That’ll be enough of that,” Jill said as matter-of-factly as she could manage without quite looking him in the eye. The last thing she wanted was for Vince to see how he unsettled her.

On shaky legs, Jill retreated to her bedroom and shut herself in, his deep laughter following her. She climbed into the dormer window and leaned her forehead against the cool glass, striped with tears from the storm. Vince had always managed to be one step ahead of her. She might kick Vince out tomorrow, but he’d be around, studying her, trying to anticipate her next move to block his casino. She’d need more than garishly painted signs to stop Vince and Arnie.

She should be angry or anxious. Yet her heart beat faster knowing her husband was in her home, sleeping between sheets that had touched her skin.

She should never have created the fantasy Vince, the ideal husband. The real Vince wasn’t perfect. He had a hair-trigger temper and he loved the trappings of success, the energy and excitement of Vegas. Whereas Jill was often uncomfortable in her own skin and content living her life behind a security fence.

So why did she still find Vince so compelling?

Jill stroked the angles of the diamond on her wedding ring, but for once it gave her no comfort.



CHUCKLING, VINCE PLUMPED up the pillow Jill had given him and lay down on the couch. Despite the surprising revelation about why she’d left, Jill amused him. Few women he ran across in his life did that nowadays. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time being with a woman without having sex had been so much fun.

If he was a cat, she’d be the mouse. She’d given too much away tonight, providing Vince with information he could use to his advantage. And she’d always been a soft touch. It wouldn’t be long before Vince had Jill supporting his efforts in Railroad Stop. He wouldn’t let their past and his fondness for her stand in the way.

There was just enough light outside to cast liquid shadows on the ceiling. Something hard poked his hip. Vince shifted and reached beneath the sheet to find a button on the cushion. He edged closer to the back of the couch only to encounter another in the middle of his back. Edda Mae’s love seat was starting to look better and better. Through trial and error Vince found a way to avoid the buttons, certain that his position on the couch had some fancy name in yoga.

A light and flowery aroma filled his nostrils. He turned his head and drank in the smell of Jill from the soft cotton pillowcase. He’d only been close to a handful of people in his life—his grandparents, his best friend, Sam, and for a few weeks, Jill. For years, he’d taken her abandonment personally. Jill’s leaving had never made sense, until now.

He’d understood Jill from the first day of kindergarten. While other kids were walked to class by their moms or dropped off by dads in luxury SUVs, Vince stepped out of a large black Town Car driven by his family’s chauffeur. But at least the windows were so dark that no one could tell his mom wasn’t inside.

Jill didn’t have it so lucky. On good days she hopped out of dented old cars driven by someone in a white shirt with a name tag. Sometimes during the off-season the hotel shuttle bus pulled into the school’s circular driveway—social suicide.

And yet Jill kept smiling, kept trying to fit in, not that the kids ever really let her. Vince didn’t fit in out of necessity. It was safer alone. That way he didn’t have to explain anything. In school he’d kept his mouth shut and his head down, until he discovered that the bruises that occasionally showed up on his face in junior high gave him a bad-ass reputation that guaranteed others kept their distance. Besides, his dad always apologized when he sobered up.

Vince’s gaze drifted to the shadows of a bookshelf where he’d seen a photo of Jill in front of a Christmas tree, cradling Teddy and wearing a guarded smile. Two weeks after Senior Ditch Day she’d bolted out of physics class to throw up and found Vince waiting outside the girls’ bathroom door. He’d driven her to a coffee shop, fed her toast and listened to her babble about her parents and how they’d never really loved their only child.

Vince understood Jill, all right. Now if he could just make her see things his way….



“EDDA MAE, what are you doing here?” Jill whispered when she returned to her apartment the next morning. She’d risen at dawn to find the sky clear again and had spray-painted NO CASINO! on all the signs.

“I’m makin’ breakfast.” Edda Mae smiled from Jill’s sunny kitchen as if everything was right with the world, but Jill wasn’t fooled. Edda Mae was here to see if Jill and Vince had slept together.

“He’s still here,” Teddy said in a low voice, pointing at Vince asleep on the couch. “Are you sure we can’t keep him?”

Edda Mae laughed softly while Jill shushed the two of them.

Vince’s long legs spilled over the end of the couch while Moonbeam curled in the crook of his arm. Vince slept as if he hadn’t a care in the world, but Jill had tossed and turned all night wondering why Vince had come to Railroad Stop—it couldn’t have been a coincidence—and wondering what she was going to do to about the casino.

Teddy came to stand beside Jill and they stared at their houseguest. Jill wanted to do damage with her fingers to Vince’s tamed, dark hair. Nobody should look that good in the morning wearing yesterday’s slacks and a baggy, long-sleeved T-shirt, especially a man who was trying to turn her world upside down.

One of Vince’s toes twitched. His feet were big and sturdy, the kind that moved purposefully forward when confrontation loomed. Jill was almost envious. Her feet were small and always seemed to back away.

When Teddy poked Vince’s foot with his finger, Vince jerked awake, black eyes bleary and ringed with dark circles, as if he’d tried more than a polite sip of Edda Mae’s whiskey last night. Moonbeam growled and Vince grimaced.

A smile tugged at Jill’s lips.

“A little help here.” Head straining to one side, Vince pointed to the protesting dog with his free hand.

A boyish giggle filled the air.

Edda Mae poked her head out of the kitchen. “You’ll need more food now that you’ve got an extra mouth to feed.”

“If you’re determined to keep him, take him to your place.” Jill removed Moonbeam from Vince’s chest, depositing the pooch in Teddy’s arms.

“Thanks.” Vince’s intense gaze seemed bent on capturing her own, but Jill wasn’t to be trapped.

She scurried over to the kitchen where bacon sizzled in a pan, pausing to wash her hands at the sink, which gave her a view of the living room.

“I told you she gets up early, boy,” Edda Mae said, snapping a green kitchen towel at Vince’s knee before trundling back to the kitchen without an ounce of remorse in her expression.

Matchmaking. Busybody. Traitor.

Edda Mae met Jill’s narrowed gaze and shrugged.

“I feel like a pretzel,” Vince grumbled as he pushed himself upright in fits and starts.

Teddy grinned from ear to ear as he watched Vince unfold himself from the furniture. Gathering Moonbeam closer with one hand, Teddy pointed to Vince’s chest with the other. “You have dog drool on your shirt.”

Vince spread the white cotton with both hands. “What the…?” He sank back onto the love seat, thumbs rubbing temples.

“You gave him whiskey?” With a huff of disgust, Jill searched her cabinet for some aspirin. Everyone in Railroad Stop knew Edda Mae’s homemade whiskey was more powerful than jet fuel and just as deadly. Vince was clueless. Yet another difference between her fantasy Vince and the real McCoy.

“I did no such thing.” Edda Mae used a fork to turn over the bacon strips.

“I turned her down.” Beyond the occasional shoulder-and-neck roll, Vince wasn’t moving. He barely acknowledged Jill when she offered him a glass of water and two aspirin tablets.

“Teddy, wash up for breakfast.” Jill turned her back on Vince and went to set her small dining table. “Once you’ve fed Vince, Edda Mae, he’ll be on his way.”

“He’s a bit of a pretty boy. Don’t you think he might like to shower and shave before you send him down the hill?” Edda Mae took eggs out of the refrigerator.

“We’re not running a bathhouse,” Jill countered, more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of Vince naked in her shower. “Remember him? He’s the enemy.”

“He’s no such thing,” Edda Mae pooh-poohed her, then frowned and stared at Vince. “He’s so pretty, in fact, he might be one of those men who like men. I could be wrong but—”

“You’re wrong,” Vince growled. “Not that I have anything against men who like men. I’m just not one of them.”

Edda Mae didn’t look convinced.

Jill tried not to smile. “He and Arnie want to build a casino, remember?”

“I want a golf course,” Teddy said, grinning at Vince. “I’d like to play golf if I had someone to teach me.”

“Have you looked at his face?” Edda Mae continued. “That’s a face you can trust.”

Jill rolled her eyes.

“Come on, Mom. You did marry him.” Teddy came into the kitchen and put Moonbeam down so he could wash his hands. “There must be something about him you like.”

Jill didn’t want to remember.

Prancing expectantly around Edda Mae’s ankles, the little dog began to yap.

“Moonbeam’s cranky this morning. She’s out of food,” Edda Mae announced.

Never a patient dog, Moonbeam barked louder while Edda Mae apologized to her for forgetting to buy dog food and Teddy rooted in the pantry for something Moonbeam could eat, all the while claiming Moonbeam should have bacon for breakfast.

“Excuse me.” Scowling, Vince entered the kitchen, which suddenly seemed too crowded to Jill, but Edda Mae, Teddy and Moonbeam didn’t seem to notice how much space a big, angry man could take up. “Excuse me!”

Everyone fell silent, until Moonbeam realized it was Vince who was shouting and she still hadn’t been fed. She returned to her protest.

“Back off, looney dog,” Vince growled right back at her.

Moonbeam sat down and gazed up at Vince as if he were about to give her a piece of the bacon that crackled in the pan above her. Jill shouldn’t have been surprised. Vince had always been able to get girls to eat out of his hand.

“In the past twenty-four hours I’ve been lost in the woods and kicked out of this place, after which I nearly mowed down an innocent bystander, was threatened by a poofy mouse with fangs and slept on what has got to be the most uncomfortable couch in the state of California.” He glared at each of them in turn.

First at Teddy. “No, the dog is not getting bacon for breakfast even if I have to drive into town to buy her kibble.”

Then at Edda Mae. “No, I am not a pretty boy. I’ve been in my share of fights and served in the war. I’ve got scars. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to have a shower and a shave, but…”

And here he turned to Jill. “No, I will not be leaving when I’m done eating bacon and eggs. We have issues that need to be discussed—including, but not limited to, the state of our marriage and your objections to my casino.”

This was it. He was going to end their farcical union right here in front of Edda Mae and Teddy. Jill held her breath.

But Vince didn’t ask for a divorce. He shook his head and turned away.

Filling her lungs with air, Jill slouched against the counter, knowing she shouldn’t be so relieved. She needed to pull on her big-girl panties and tell Vince she wanted a divorce, rather than wait until he brought it up.

Vince spun back around. “And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about me as if I wasn’t here, especially before I’ve had my first cup of coffee.” Chin up, Vince dared any of them to challenge him.

Jill knew she should. At the very least she had to make it clear that he wasn’t spending the night on her couch again. Vince had the power to shred the safety net she’d created. He’d already started. But words eluded her.

“Looney Moony.” Teddy giggled, pleased with his rhyme.




CHAPTER FIVE


EDDA MAE REMEMBERED she’d left Moonbeam’s kibble in the Shady Oak kitchen when she was filling the shelves last week. Vince offered to go downstairs and retrieve it—being more curious than he wanted to admit about this luxury retreat of Jill’s—but apparently he needed a key and someone who knew the security code. Since Edda Mae was cooking Jill suggested Teddy take him. She didn’t seem to want to be alone with Vince or divulge the code.

“Why do elephants paint their toenails red?” Teddy asked, skipping down the stairs ahead of Vince.

“I don’t know,” Vince said absently, still trying to figure out Jill’s state of mind.

“So they can hide in a strawberry patch.” Teddy swung around the bottom stair, grinning at Vince. “Get it? Their toenails are big and round and red like strawberries.”

Vince groaned. He’d forgotten how truly bad a young boy’s jokes could be. But he couldn’t resist trying one of his own. After all, telling bad jokes was part of being a kid. “Have you ever seen an elephant’s toenails?”

Teddy shook his head.

“Those would be some mammoth strawberries.”

A small crease appeared between Teddy’s eyebrows.

With a put-upon sigh, Vince rolled his eyes. “Get it? Mammoth? Elephant?”

“Oh.” Teddy giggled. “Why do elephants hide in strawberry patches?”

After considering for a moment, Vince gave up. “I don’t know.”

Teddy’s lower lip thrust out in disappointment. “Take a guess. Mom hardly ever guesses.”

If that wasn’t a challenge, Vince didn’t know what was. “Because they eat straw?”

“No-o. So they can jump out and stomp on people.” Teddy waited for Vince to laugh before he rounded a corner. He stopped in front of an unimposing door, flipped up the lid of a plastic box installed on the wall and keyed in a series of numbers. “Why do elephants stomp on people?”

“To make people whine…wine?” It was a stretch, but Teddy wanted him to guess.

“No! That’s why they play squash.” Teddy plodded around, his right arm curling as if it were an elephant’s trunk while he made mmfffttt noises. Then he grinned up at Vince expectantly.

“Ha, ha. Your friends must think you’re a laugh a minute.”

Teddy’s smile crumpled. “My skunk jokes are better.”

“I can’t wait, but—” Vince held up a hand before Teddy could launch into his stinky repertoire “—let’s find the dog food first. I can hear that looney beast complaining from here.”

Tilting his head, Teddy paused and then chuckled as he searched through the set of keys on the ring Jill had given him. “Yep, she’s still complaining.”

Once Teddy found the right key, the door opened on silent hinges into a huge kitchen with a dark hardwood floor. Black marble counters over oak cabinets made a U around the room. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling over a large center island. There were two of everything—stoves, refrigerators, microwaves, all shiny new stainless steel which must have set Jill back plenty. There was a Dutch door opposite the entrance they’d come through and a high counter with shutters on top that he guessed served as a pass-through to the dining room.

While Teddy rooted around in the cupboards, Vince pushed open the Dutch door and walked into the dining room. He whistled once in appreciation as he let the door swish closed behind him. Jill had gone all out here. This was no summer camp. The room was way more lavish than the simple apartment above it.

Vince had been to more than his share of luxury hotels. She’d obviously taken inspiration from high-end lodges. The dining room was a showcase of polished floors, upscale wooden tables and saloon chairs and exquisite chandeliers, with the centerpiece a grand stone fireplace next to a bank of windows that looked out over a porch to the gently rolling valley below. The view was breathtaking.

Jill hadn’t exaggerated Shady Oak’s potential. It could be a huge success. If the individual rooms were anything like this, she’d be booked years in advance. Vince’s mind cranked through what else she’d need—advertising, more staff, weekend getaway deals with the local casino.

“Found it.” Teddy flung the door open, bumping Vince with it. “Let’s go.”

Vince followed the boy out, waiting while he locked up and reset the alarm. “Are the cottages like this?”

Teddy shrugged, clearly not interested. “Mom says the cottages turned out way better.”

His curiosity piqued, Vince stared at the cabins closest to the dining hall.

Teddy tugged on Vince’s shirt. “Hey. What do you get when you cross a skunk with a bear?”

“A zebra?” That was a stretch.

“Winnie the Pew! Here, carry this.” The Prince of Bad Jokes handed Vince the small bag of dog food, then raced off. “Last one upstairs is a rotten egg.”



“TELL ME ABOUT your family, Vince,” Edda Mae commanded when they’d all sat down to eat breakfast.

“Edda Mae.” Jill cast a nervous glance at Vince. During their short engagement Jill’s few questions about Vince’s mom and dad had been met with silent shrugs. His parents hadn’t attended their private ceremony. She doubted they’d been invited.

Teddy set his milk down. Out of habit, Jill swabbed his milk mustache away while he swatted at her hand.

But Vince answered smoothly, “There’s not much to tell. I’m an only child.”




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