Heartbreak gives her only one place to turn...

the arms of a forbidden man.

Until now, Crissanne Moss has been off-limits. As his best friend’s significant other, she is Ethan Caruthers’s friend, too. So he’s always snuffed out any spark between them. Now Crissanne is single and seeking comfort. Ethan is happy to give her all she needs—and desires. But can their friendship truly become more when one explosive revelation changes everything?

USA TODAY bestselling author KATHERINE GARBERA writes heartwarming and sensual novels that deal with romance, family and friendship. She’s written more than seventy-five novels and is a featured speaker at events all over the world.

She lives in the UK with her husband and Godiva (a very spoiled miniature dachshund), and she’s frequently visited by her college-age children, who need home-cooked meals and laundry service. Visit her online at katherinegarbera.com.

Also by Katherine Garbera

The Greek Tycoon’s Secret Heir

The Wealthy Frenchman’s Proposition

The Spanish Aristocrat’s Woman

His Baby Agenda

His Seduction Game Plan

Tycoon Cowboy’s Baby Surprise

The Tycoon’s Fiancée Deal

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Craving His Best Friend’s Ex

Katherine Garbera

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07668-5

CRAVING HIS BEST FRIEND’S EX

© 2018 Katherine Garbera

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To the Zombie Belles for having my

back and making me laugh!

It’s hard for me to believe that I’ve known

some of you more than 20 years!

I love you all.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

One

Ethan Caruthers opened the door to find Crissanne Moss standing there, face pale, biting her lower lip the way she did when she was worried. What was she doing here? She had her camera bag flung over one shoulder and a suitcase on the step behind her, and a taxi was pulling away from the curb. She pushed her sunglasses up on her head, and a strand of her silky, straight long blond hair slipped free in the late summer breeze. She parted her lips and blew the strand away. As always, he had to force his eyes away from her mouth.

With some women he’d met, he could easily ignore the fact that they were female. But from the moment he’d been introduced to his best friend’s girl, it had been a struggle to control his intense attraction to her.

He had felt so disloyal to Mason yet at the same time had been powerless to control his attraction. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her and he’d hesitated...

“Well, hello there. I wasn’t expecting you, was I? I mean, Cole’s Hill, Texas, isn’t your normal neighborhood,” he said, holding the door open for her to enter before going to get her suitcase. She’d been living in LA with his best friend, Mason, for the better part of the last three years.

“No, you weren’t expecting me, and when you hear why I’m here I won’t blame you if you tell me to hit the road,” she said.

Crissanne had a Northwestern twang to her speech that he’d always found endearing. He couldn’t imagine anything she could do that would make him send her away. “I’m a lawyer and have heard some pretty outrageous things over the years. I doubt you’ll shock me.”

She gave him a sweet smile that didn’t reach her clear gray eyes and then reached over and hugged him. “You’ve always been the best, Ethan. Frankly, I didn’t know where else to go...”

Intrigued, he put her suitcase against the wall near the front hall table and then closed the front door before turning to face her again. He wanted to ask where Mason was, but also thought he remembered something about his best friend heading to Peru to film his extreme adventure survival show.

And right now, Ethan was pretty sure he was going to hell for lusting after Crissanne, but he’d never been able to look at her and not see the two of them tangled together in a big king-size bed.

He liked to think that he’d hidden his reaction, though; he was always on guard whenever he was around Mason and Crissanne.

“Come into the kitchen. My housekeeper made some sweet tea and chocolate chip cookies before she left for the day,” he said. “We can have a snack and you can tell me why you’re here.”

He gestured for her to precede him down the hall. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but as his gaze fell to her hips, which swayed gently with each step she took, he knew there wasn’t anything polite about his attention. He wanted her. He swallowed hard and knew he had to get himself under control.

He’d broken up with the woman he’d been seeing off and on in Midland a while ago, so he’d been celibate for longer than he liked. “I need to grab my phone from my study. Help yourself to the cookies.”

He turned into his study and then stood there for a second, forcing himself to remember everything he’d ever heard in Sunday school about not coveting things that weren’t his. He grabbed his smartphone from the desk and then went down the hall, sure he had himself under control, until he saw her standing at the French doors that led to his back porch, resting her head against the glass.

She looked lost.

She needed a friend.

He remembered the hug and it was suddenly easier to shove his lustful thoughts to the back of his mind. She needed him.

“Crissanne?”

She turned and pulled her sunglasses from her head, putting them on the kitchen table. She put her hands in her back pockets, which thrust her breasts forward in the loose, peasant-style top she wore.

Damn.

“Mason and I broke up,” she said, her words pouring out in a rush. “We had a really bad fight and he said I could stay in his condo in LA while he’s in Peru but I couldn’t. I...I just needed to get away. And I don’t have any family. When I got to the airport I didn’t know where to go, and then I thought of you.”

But he was stuck on Mason and I broke up.

She was single.

She was hurting and alone. He knew she had no family. She’d grown up in the foster system and had only a few close friends...most of whom she shared with Mason. They’d been a couple since freshman year in college. Clearly, she needed Ethan to be her friend at this moment. Something he’d always been for her. And he buried his desire for her as he always did.

“Of course you are welcome to stay here as long as you need to,” Ethan said to put her mind at ease right off the bat.

“Thank you. Honestly, I know this might put you in an awkward position, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

He shook his head. Of course it was going to be uncomfortable to explain to Mason when his friend called. But turning her away didn’t sit well with him. It was easy to say that his dad had raised him to be a gentleman—and it was true. Crissanne was in a tight spot and clearly needed a friend. But the truth was he wanted her here and he’d endure anything to have her under his roof. “It won’t be awkward. Are you sure this is a permanent breakup? I know Mason gets moody before he goes away to film.”

He wanted her to be happy, and until now he’d thought she and Mason were the ideal couple. As much as he wanted Crissanne for himself, her happiness had to come first. And Mason might be an ass when it came to women, but over the years he’d noticed that they seemed good for each other. Mason had been the one to encourage Crissanne to set up her travel vlog, which had turned into a financial boon for her and given her a career she was in control of.

“I’m sure. He and I have grown apart lately. And I know he’s your friend so I’m not going to talk smack about him to you, but we want different things out of life.”

That was news to him. Obviously. But he’d sort of avoided hanging out with them too much lately because it had become too hard to be around Crissanne and not want her. Business had brought him to the West Coast more frequently and as dinner plans with Mason had fallen through because of his shooting schedule, it had been just Ethan and Crissanne. And he had hated that weakness in himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, long strands of hair sliding over her shoulder to rest on the curve of her breast. “Not right now.”

“Well, how about I show you to your room and you can clean up, and then I’ll treat you to dinner? I didn’t have my housekeeper prepare anything.”

“That sounds great,” Crissanne said. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive,” he said.

“I’ll start looking for my own place right away,” she said. “LA was always Mason’s town and I’d been thinking of living in the center of the country instead of staying on the West Coast...so it’s here or Chicago, and since I know you...but I can definitely stay at a hotel. In fact, I should have gone there.”

“Stop. You can stay here. There’s no hurry for you to find a place. This house is big enough for both of us,” he said. And Mason would be out of the country for a few weeks, so Ethan had time to figure out what to say to his best friend when he got back home.

“You really are the best friend a girl could ask for,” she said.

He tried to tell himself that he could settle for being friends, but it had been a lie for a while now, and he knew that having her in his home was going to make it even harder.

* * *

Crissanne had hoped for this reaction from Ethan. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed that Ethan had always had a little crush on her. She had hoped he’d take her in. She wasn’t the kind of woman who made friends easily. Part of it was because she was competitive, but also she’d never really learned to trust. She remembered how the psychologist her last foster family had sent her to when she’d turned eighteen had stressed that this was going to be a barrier to her happiness.

Maybe it was what had driven the wedge between Mason and her. But the truth was, she had nowhere else to go. She’d rung her friend Abby, who lived in San Francisco, but she’d just started a relationship with a new guy and thought it would be weird if Crissanne moved in with them.

She had a good relationship with her brand manager at one of the large luggage brands that sponsored most of her vlogs and gave her most of her work, but she didn’t want to call her up and ask to live with her. She had needed a friend and someone who wouldn’t judge. And Ethan was that.

Also, he was busy. As an attorney, he was in court a lot so she’d have some quiet time to figure out what was next. She would make this work. Because staying in the house she’d shared with Mason after that horrible fight where things were said that could never be taken back was something she simply hadn’t been able to do.

She wanted to be someplace where she felt accepted and Ethan always made her feel like she was someone. Not a girl who had been abandoned by her crack-addicted mother or passed from foster home to foster home because she was too quiet and weirded people out.

“This is your room,” Ethan said when they reached the second-floor landing and he opened the third door on the right.

She stood in the doorway of one of the most luxurious bedrooms she’d ever seen. She’d never visited Ethan before; he’d always come to the West Coast. The house had a lot of Spanish design influence, from the tiles in the entryway to the large sweeping arch that led into the great room, but this room had more of a rustic Western feel. The carpet was thick and lush, and as she stepped into the room she wished she’d taken her shoes off so she could feel it on her bare feet. A large four-poster bed with dark navy drapes and a canopy on it dominated the space. The nightstands on either side of the bed each had a lamp. There was a sitting area with two overstuffed leather armchairs, a small table between them, and a landscape painting depicting the Texas Hill Country on the wall.

“This is a gorgeous room,” Crissanne said.

“Glad you like it. There’s a desk in the alcove over there leading into the walk-in closet and then to your private bath,” he said, gesturing toward them. “If you need anything at all just let me know.”

“I’m really low-maintenance, so I don’t think I’ll need anything,” she said.

“Hey, you know, I bet once Mason lands in Lima he’s going to be on the phone apologizing,” Ethan said.

She didn’t think so. Mason couldn’t get away from her fast enough when she’d suggested maybe they should get married and think about a family. She’d expected him to balk a little, considering their life together was meetings in airports and nights together in the different apartments he owned in major cities around the world. But the outright rejection had stung.

When they’d talked, he’d said he didn’t want to have a family...well, that had changed things for her. A family of her own had always been her dream, especially after her rough, lonely childhood.

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Crissanne said.

“Well, like I said, you’re welcome as long as you need to be here,” Ethan said. “Take your time settling in. I’m going to be in my study working. I have to be in court early tomorrow and want to go over my notes again.”

“We can skip dinner if that would be better for you,” she said.

“No. I was planning to eat out. And my daddy would kick my butt if he knew I served you cereal after you came halfway across the country,” Ethan said with that crooked grin of his.

“How are things on the Rockin’ C?” she asked.

“Not too bad. Dad is retired but that doesn’t mean anything to him,” Ethan said. “He still sticks his nose in all the time, making Nate crazy.”

Ethan was one of four brothers. Nate was the oldest. He’d taken over running the family ranch, the Rockin’ C, and was the CEO of the company that had interests in oil and mineral rights. Another of his brothers, Hunter, was a former NFL wide receiver who had recently been exonerated in a scandal that dated back to college. And then there was Derek, who was a surgeon in Cole’s Hill.

Ethan was way too sexy to be an attorney. She felt no guilt whatsoever in thinking that. He had thick, dark blond hair that curled onto his forehead despite the fact that he had styled it to stay back. His tailored shirt hugged his frame, showing off his muscled arms and hugging his lean abdomen.

“Does he make you crazy, too?” Crissanne asked, realizing she’d spent too much time staring at Ethan.

“At times,” Ethan admitted. “But luckily Nate’s daughter, Penny, is a good distraction. Having a granddaughter kind of calms Dad down. So it’s not just me here at the house in addition to my housekeeper. I have a...manservant. Saying that makes me feel way too Downton Abbey, but butler sounds pretentious as well. Anyway, his name is Bart and he lives here and takes care of the house, the pool and the yard.”

“You need two helpers to keep your house?” she asked.

“I probably don’t need them but I am gone a lot. And Bart needed a job and no one would hire him because he had a record. Mrs. Yarnall used to work for my parents until they moved into the small house and didn’t need her anymore. Now that it’s just Nate at the Rockin’ C, there isn’t a need for two housekeepers at the main house. She has five or so more years before she retires, and I could use the help here.”

“Weren’t you worried about hiring Bart?” she asked.

Ethan shook his head. “He’s a good man who just grew up with bad influences. And I’ve seen a real change in him since he was paroled.”

If she needed a good example of the kind of man Ethan was, this was it. He cared about everyone. He saw the person, not all the other junk like upbringing or record or age. Not that many people took that kind of time to really make sure everyone had a purpose the way he did.

Though she’d come here knowing he sort of liked her, she didn’t kid herself that it would turn into something more than just curiosity. Mason was his friend, and Ethan was loyal. Not blindly loyal, but the kind of man who lived by his own code.

Then again, he probably had been crushing on her because she was forbidden fruit. And that made her sad, because she wanted Ethan to be the perfect man she always imagined him to be.

He strode toward the door and then hesitated. “The balcony overlooks the pool and grounds. It connects to the other rooms,” he said.

“Where is your room?” she asked.

“Two doors down,” he said before leaving and closing the door behind him.

She stood there in the nicely appointed room, trying very hard not to feel like she was lost. It had been a long time since she’d had this feeling, but she was flashing back hard to the foster homes of her youth and feeling adrift, like she wasn’t sure where she was going next. She was on her own again. She’d gotten used to being part of a family with Mason, and she knew that it had been a false feeling. He’d liked the noncommittal state of the relationship, and she’d been able to fool herself that it was something else. Something more. And she promised herself she wouldn’t do that again.

* * *

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ethan entered his study and closed the door, leaning back against it. His brothers were all settling down and getting their lives together, but what did he have in his life that mattered? One thing was his job, the career he loved and would never give up. And the other was a woman who thought of him as her friend.

Hell and damn.

He walked to his desk, sat down in the big leather chair his mom had helped him pick out, and glanced down at the photo of him and his brothers that had been taken at Nate’s wedding. His life always looked ideal, perfect from the outside. And that had made him struggle.

He knew his weaknesses and never shied away from them. So he knew ignoring this thing with Crissanne wasn’t the solution. He had to face it, deal with it and then let it go.

He’d texted Bart earlier to let him know that Crissanne was here. Ethan wondered if they’d met and introduced themselves yet.

He left his office, following the sound of music playing to the kitchen. Not Bart’s usual MO, but perhaps he’d been charmed by Crissanne, too. There was something about her, a sadness lurking in her eyes, that had always made Ethan want to cheer her up.

But Bart wasn’t in the kitchen. It was just Crissanne, singing to Jack Johnson while she sat at the island typing on her laptop. Her back was to him, and he stood there watching her.

He tried to tell himself it was sweet, that there was nothing remotely sexy about her as she worked. Yet she still tempted him. He decided then and there that the only solution to this was to try to think of her like one of his sisters-in-law.

She glanced up from her work and turned slightly. When she saw him standing in the doorway, she stopped singing.

“Sorry,” she said. “I guess I got carried away and was singing out loud.”

“You were,” he said. “I liked it.”

“You did?”

“You don’t sound nearly as bad as Hunter. That boy has a lot of talents but singing isn’t one of them,” Ethan said, thinking of his younger brother, the former NFL football player.

“Your family always sounds so...”

“Big and annoying?” he asked.

“Nice,” she said at last. “I don’t have any siblings.”

Ethan leaned back against the countertop. “They can be a pain in the backside. I can’t tell you how many times I wished I were an only child.”

“But you don’t still feel that way?”

He shook his head. He was glad he had his brothers and that he lived so close to his family.

“I was thinking while you are here, you might want to do a feature on Cole’s Hill for one of those travel blogs you write for in addition to doing your vlogs. We have the SpaceNow and NASA Cronus training facility here now. I marked them on a map for you while I was in my office,” he said, going over to the desk in the kitchen and picking up the map he’d drawn for her.

He handed it to her and she arched both eyebrows at him. “You seem to have put a lot of time into this.”

“It didn’t take much time,” he said. “I figured you’d want to keep busy. I know that’s how I felt in the past when my relationships ended.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “I thought you were the one-night man.”

“No need to ask where you heard that,” he said. Mason always called him that. “I’ve had a few relationships that lasted longer.”

“I kind of want to dig into that and find out why you never let yourself get involved for longer,” she said, then winked at him. “But that would be too prying.”

“It would be,” he agreed. He’d have to make up something if she did try to probe more deeply, because she was the reason he’d never gotten involved with anyone for the long term. It had never seemed fair to get involved with one woman when he was obsessed with another one.

She gave him one of her sweet smiles and then came around the counter and hugged him. He held himself stiff at first but then put his arms around her and hugged her back, even knowing that he shouldn’t. He closed his eyes and breathed in the flowery scent of her hair, and then forced himself to step back.

“I’ll let you keep your secrets for now,” she said.

“Should I say thank you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Ready to go to dinner?”

She nodded. “Let me get my bag and phone.”

She walked out of the room and again he watched her go, knowing he was fooling himself pretending to be her friend. He was good at arguing a point in court and convincing juries to believe his point of view, but he’d never been able to bluff himself. He had always been very aware of his own weaknesses and if he was being completely honest, Crissanne felt like a dangerous vulnerability. There was no way he was going to ever be able to look at her and not want more, not want to feel her lips under his and not want her body twined with his all night long.

Two

The Peace Creek Steakhouse was conveniently located near the downtown area of Cole’s Hill. When Ethan was growing up, his family would rent the wine room in the back to celebrate major accomplishments. As he and Crissanne stood in the foyer waiting to be seated, he remembered how he’d get money from Babs, one of his parents’ housekeepers, to get mints from the machine in the front of the restaurant and how he and his brothers would all scramble to be the first one there.

It was in his childhood that Ethan learned to argue with his words and not his fists. He was never going to be stronger than Nate, who was two inches taller than Ethan. But Nate could be distracted by anyone who didn’t share his point of view. Of course, some of those early arguments had ended in a broken nose for him. But it had been worth it to be the first to the candy machine.

“What are you thinking about?” Crissanne asked.

He shook his head. “Fighting with my brothers to be the first to get a mint from that candy machine.”

“It’s so foreign to me that you’ve lived in the same place most of your life,” she said. “I bet everywhere you go there are memories.”

“There are,” he said. “Don’t you have places where you could go back to?”

“I guess,” she said. “The group home I lived in as a kid was torn down a few years ago, and then as a teen I was in a home in Northern California, but I hated it. I felt so...out of place in my Goodwill clothing. I think I’m better at looking to the future,” she said.

He started to reach out to squeeze her shoulder but stopped and dropped his hand. Desire had always been such a part of the atmosphere when he was around Crissanne. With Mason as a barrier to anything ever actually happening, he’d allowed himself casual touches that were much more dangerous now. He needed to be careful.

She was still off-limits, but it didn’t feel that way.

“That’s the best way to look at it,” he said. “You can’t change the past.”

She moved away to look at the pictures on the wall while he gave their name to the hostess, who was the daughter of one his cousins, Liam Shannon. He exchanged small talk with her as she promised him the first table that was available and then moved away from the hostess stand. Ethan had never noticed the framed prints before. They were all images of cowboys that were at least thirty years old, which he knew because there was one of his father when he’d first inherited the Rockin’ C, standing in front of his F-150 pickup with the Rockin’ C logo. His dad had been the one to take the ranch to the next level of production. The family company had the mineral rights that earned them a large part of their fortune, but Winston Caruthers had made the cattle ranching operation a contender in the portfolio.

“This guy... I love the mixture of confidence and bravado in his eyes,” Crissanne said as Ethan joined her.

“That’s my dad,” Ethan said. “One of his sayings is ‘he who hesitates is lost.’ He’s always just gone for whatever it is he wants.”

She turned to look at him. “You have inherited that. You never hesitate, do you?”

One time.

When he and Mason had both seen Crissanne across the quad and he’d stood there wondering if he should ask her out, while Mason, always willing to take a chance, had stridden over and done just that.

His dad was right.

Again.

He took a deep breath. “I have my ups and downs.”

“Seems to me that you have more ups than downs,” she said. “Your business is very successful.”

“Usually, but I don’t like to brag.”

She mock-punched him on the shoulder. Damn, her touch sent an electric current through him, even though he realized she was still touching him like a friend. He had hesitated...damn, he’d done it again. She rattled him.

He prided himself on being calm and in control, but she was messing with his restraint. He didn’t like it.

If he’d learned anything in his thirty years on this earth, it was that he didn’t do well without some sort of limits.

A strand of her hair fell forward, and he lifted his hand to tuck it back behind her ear. Her lips parted and she caught her breath. He couldn’t help rubbing his finger down the side of her neck—her skin was so soft—before he dropped his hand.

“Ethan...”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Caruthers,” the hostess called. “Your table is ready.”

Crissanne swallowed hard and then nodded and stepped around him to follow the hostess into the dining room. The dynamic had changed between the two of them.

He had changed it. He’d tried to be casual about touching her, but there was no way he could continue to hide the way he felt, especially now that Mason was out of the picture.

And while a part of him knew that caution would be the noble route, another part of him didn’t care about that, the selfish part that could only see the woman he’d always wanted walking in front of him to a table set for two. Her hips swayed gently with each step, her blond hair swinging back and forth as he watched.

But they were friends.

At least that much was true. He thought about his brother Derek and his best friend, Bianca, and how they’d somehow managed to turn friendship into love. But that wasn’t him and Crissanne. It had never been the two of them in their friendship; it had always been three of them. And it would be ridiculous to think that Mason wasn’t going to come to his senses and return for her.

Ethan knew that was what he’d do.

So tonight had to be two old friends catching up...nothing more.

* * *

Crissanne fell back as Ethan engaged in a conversation with one of the many people in Cole’s Hill who knew him as they walked out of the restaurant. It was safe to say he was a favored son here. She saw in the bones of the streets and its charming historic district that it had been a smallish town but was growing quickly. In fact, the man who was talking to Ethan was discussing a development going in just south of the town limits.

Her fingers itched for her camera. She used the one on her smartphone at times, but she preferred to have the lens at her eye, fiddling with the focus until she could capture whatever it was about her subject that fascinated her.

Maybe if she did that, then she’d be able to understand this attraction to Ethan she was feeling. But she wasn’t holding out hope that it would help. The light from the storefront of the Peace Creek Mercantile was throwing shadows on his features, bringing that strong jaw of his into focus. What the heck. She took her phone from her pocket and opened the camera app.

The light played over his hair, drawing her eye to the fact that he had some light blond highlights. She tuned out everything, watching Ethan through her camera app and moving to get the right angle for the photo. She zoomed in closer, and saw he had a scar on his left eyebrow...she’d never noticed that before.

His expression was earnest and confident as he focused on the man he was talking to. That was one of the things she really liked about Ethan. He gave his attention 100 percent to whomever he was engaged with. She snapped a few photos, but when she moved around to change her angle, she bumped into someone.

“Sorry.”

She glanced up to see a cowboy. Like a legit, thought-they-only-existed-in-the-movies cowboy. He had a leonine mane of brownish-blond hair streaked through with gray, his eyes had sun lines around them, and his skin was tanned. Leathery, she’d say, but he wore his years well. There was something familiar about the set of his eyes and his nose. She knew it would be rude to snap a picture of him, but that face told a story.

“That’s okay. I’m sure you could find something prettier to photograph, though.”

“Than what?” Crissanne asked.

“That shark over there. You know he’s the type to argue,” the cowboy said. “He’s a lawyer.”

“I know,” she said. “He’s a champion at debating just about anything. One time we spent forty-five minutes arguing the merits of fresh salsa versus that stuff they serve at the fast-food chains.”

“Surely there was no competition,” the cowboy said.

“Believe it or not, he thought that the fast-food salsa had its place on the salsa scale.”

“That boy always was ornerier than a mule,” the cowboy said.

“Only someone who knows Ethan well would say that,” she replied. “Who are you?”

“Hello, Pa,” Ethan said, joining them. Then he turned to Crissanne. “I told you my family could be a pain.”

“You did,” she admitted.

“Winston Caruthers,” the cowboy said, holding out his hand. “You can call me Pa—everyone does.”

Crissanne knew it was a casual offer, probably one he made a dozen times a day, but she’d never had a father figure. No man had ever offered for her to call him Pa. And it meant more than she knew it should.

“Thank you,” she said, taking his hand. “I’m Crissanne Moss.”

“Pleased to meet you, Crissanne,” Pa Caruthers said. “Ethan, you’ll have to bring your girl out to the house one night soon to meet your ma.”

“Pa, uh, we’re not a couple. She’s Mason’s—”

“Ex. I’m Mason’s ex and I’m here for a job, so Ethan is letting me stay with him for a few days. We were friends in college,” she said, taking control of the conversation. She had no idea what Ethan had been about to say, but Crissanne knew she wasn’t Mason’s anything anymore.

“Your ma would still like to meet her,” Pa Caruthers said in a firm tone.

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Of course.”

“As I said, Pa,” Crissanne interjected, and it gave her a little thrill to say it, “I’m working here so I’m not sure what my schedule is, but we’ll try to get out there.”

Winston nodded and put his hat back on. “See you on Saturday, Ethan.”

“Yes, sir,” Ethan said. His father nodded at Crissanne and then moved on down the sidewalk.

“He still thinks I’m a teenager,” Ethan said.

“I think it’s sweet,” she said.

Ethan arched an eyebrow at her. “Sweet? He’s ornery as hell. Everyone says that.”

“Do they also say you’re just like him?” Crissanne asked, because he sounded just like his father had when he’d been talking about Ethan.

Ethan chuckled. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they’re right.”

“Did you get some good pictures of the town?” he asked.

She flushed. She was pretty sure all she’d photographed was Ethan. “I did. Sort of scene shots with the street and the people on it.”

“Good.”

They continued walking in silence back toward Ethan’s Ferrari, which he’d parked at the far end of the historic district on the other side of the Grand Hotel. She thought about how nice this town was, how lovely Ethan’s family was and how she really had to be careful about her emotions. This was a stopgap. Cole’s Hill was meant to be a place for her to breathe and then figure out her next move.

She couldn’t fall for the town or the Carutherses. And she knew that was a distinct possibility. Ethan held her attention—Lord knew, he always had—but seeing him here and not in Los Angeles was bringing him into focus.

And she wished she could say that she was seeing all his scars and his faults, and that was a turnoff. But his scars made her understand him better. Which was dangerous. She could resist perfection. But she was going to have to really stay on her guard to keep the Ethan she knew at arm’s length.

* * *

Ethan had been in bed for two hours listening to the sound of the wind blowing and the scrape of the tree branches against his window. He really needed to take care of that. But he knew that wasn’t what was keeping him awake.

Crissanne was in his house. Sleeping just down the hall in the spare room. He had never slept with her under his roof before. It wouldn’t have mattered before, but now he knew it did.

He’d told himself over and over that she was just a friend.

She was still Mason’s girl until his best friend told him otherwise.

And of course that just sharpened the ache of desire inside him. His skin had felt too tight for his body all night, except for those few moments when she’d smiled at him, and then he’d forgotten she wasn’t his. She was here as a friend. And she was her own person.

She’d come to him for friendship, and he was going to deliver.

He rolled over and saw the empty expanse of the bed next to him. He closed his eyes and swore he smelled the scent of her perfume drifting through the open French doors that led to the balcony.

He got up and walked to the open door and saw the shadow of someone standing at the railing.

Crissanne.

He reached for his jeans and drew them on over his naked body. He carefully pushed his erection out of the way as he buttoned his jeans, and then scrubbed his hand through his hair as he stepped out.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, keeping his voice low so he didn’t startle her.

“No. Too much in my head,” she said, turning to face him. She wore a thin sleeveless nightgown that ended at her knee. The moon was full tonight and it shone down on her, making her look almost as if she wasn’t of this world. As if she didn’t belong here.

Hell.

He knew she didn’t.

“Did I wake you?” she asked, leaning back against the railing. The breeze stirred her hair, catching it and making it flow against her shoulder and then across her face. She tucked it back behind her ear.

“No.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “But what’s keeping you awake? Maybe talking will help.”

He doubted it was going to help either of them sleep if he told her he’d been consumed with images of her and that he couldn’t stop thinking about her mouth and wondering about her kiss. He rubbed his hand over his chest as his skin started to feel too hot. He needed her. He knew what lust felt like.

But this was Crissanne. Not a stranger, not someone he could simply hook up with and then smile at the next morning.

They had history.

And on his side...attraction.

So much wanting, he thought. In the moonlight with the shape of her body hidden by the flowy nightgown she had on, his imagination was running away from him. He wanted to lift the hem of that gown—

“Ethan?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No. What about you?”

“I definitely don’t,” she said.

“Want to play sips and lies?”

She laughed. “The last time we played that I won.”

“Only because I let you,” he said.

“Uh, sure.”

“It’s true,” he called back over his shoulder as he walked to the wet bar at the end of the balcony. “I’m a gentleman.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, moving over to the padded lounge chairs that were clustered around a portable fire pit. She sat down and pulled the throw off the back of the chair, drawing it over her shoulders.

He busied himself looking through the bottles searching for the Patrón that he knew was her favorite. And then he sliced a lime and put it on a serving tray next to the shaker of salt and two shot glasses.

He set the tray on the end table between two of the chairs. “Are you cold? I can light the fire.”

“I’m okay with the blanket,” she said, pouring both of them a shot of tequila.

“Who’s going first?” she asked.

“You.”

“The gentleman thing again?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Haven’t had time to think of a lie that you’ll believe.”

She started laughing.

He loved the sound of her laughter. He still remembered the first time he’d heard it all those years ago. She’d been sitting on the arm of Mason’s chair and someone had said something and she’d started laughing. It was such a joyous sound it always made him smile and at times had cut through the fog he’d allowed himself to live in for a few years.

The game, which they’d played many times in college and since then, was simple. They took turns telling a story and the other players had to guess if it was true or false. If the guess was right, the one telling the story had to drink, and vice versa.

“Topic?” she asked.

“First kiss,” he said. It was the first thing that had come to his mind, and as soon as he said it he knew that he was in trouble. He shouldn’t be sitting in the moonlight with Crissanne, drinking and talking about kisses. He didn’t have the strength that he’d need to keep his distance.

“First kiss? Well, that’s an interesting one. It was that time I kissed a frog,” she said. “I was at this party at school and I remembered the fairy tale about the kiss turning a frog into a prince. Molly Moore dared me to do it, and I thought what the heck and did it.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Was the frog an actual amphibian?”

“What other kind is there?” she said, not really answering his question.

“I’m going to go with lie,” he said.

“Truth. I got in trouble for kissing the frog and had to have detention,” she said.

“Why?”

“Molly and I were really there to free the frogs from the science lab, so me kissing one was the distraction while she set the others free.”

Their eyes met as he licked the back of his hand and shook some salt on it before licking it off again. Then he tossed back the shot, keeping eye contact with Crissanne, before he brought the lime wedge to his mouth and bit it, the tangy juice filling his mouth.

As he tossed the used lime wedge onto the tray, Crissanne reached forward, brushing her thumb over his lower lip and sending a jolt straight through him as she pulled her hand back and licked her thumb.

Yeah, this has bad idea written all over it.

Three

It was August in Texas, so even this late at night it was hot, or at least that was the excuse Crissanne was going to use for the heat sweeping through her. It had nothing to do with the fact that Ethan sat across from her wearing a pair of low-slung faded jeans and nothing else. His chest was bare, and he had more muscles than she’d expected.

He was a lawyer. Surely that meant he spent a lot of time at his desk not working out. But to be fair his muscles weren’t overly large...just enticing. He had a flat stomach but no washboard abs, so realistically she knew that there were probably women somewhere in the world who would argue that he wasn’t the sexiest man alive. But sitting here in the moonlight with the taste of lime on her tongue and his warm voice telling her a tale that she knew was a lie, she knew she wouldn’t agree with those women.

He arched one eyebrow at her and she realized he’d stopped talking.

“Uh...lie?”

“Woman, you are wrong,” he said, handing her the bottle of Patrón. And given the fact that her judgment was already a little off-center, she knew she should call it a night and go back to her bed.

Instead she took the tequila and poured it into her shot glass. Their eyes met as she licked the back of her hand, and she noticed that his pupils dilated. She shook the salt out, then leaned forward as she let her gaze drop and licked the salt, watching him from under her eyelashes. She noticed the muscles of his chest contracting as she tossed back the shot and felt the sting of it before she took the lime and bit it.

She put the lime on the tray as Ethan got out of his chair and walked to the balcony railing. She watched him as he braced his hands on the wrought iron and craned his head forward. His back was long and smooth, his neck strong and sexy. That intense longing rose inside her again.

And all the reasons she thought she had for coming to Texas floated away on the night breeze. She watched Ethan, felt the conflict inside him and knew she should go back into her room.

But instead she got to her feet and went over to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and then leaned her head against his back right between his shoulder blades. He went tense for a minute before he relaxed.

“This is a bad idea,” he said, his voice a low rumble that carried no farther than her ears.

She rubbed her hand over his smooth chest, and she knew he was right as she kept her face buried between his shoulders. But she’d been alone for a long time. Even though she’d only just broken up with Mason, they’d been drifting apart. She hadn’t spent more than a few hours with him in the last six months, and she knew a big part of her had already started to move on.

She didn’t want to think about that. About how easy it was for her to lock away her hurt and disappointment and just function. She had thought...well, hoped that she’d left that in her past. That the girl who had never connected with any of the families she’d fostered with had grown into a woman who made solid bonds with her boyfriend.

It hurt to realize how wrong she’d been.

“I don’t care,” she said. Saying it out loud made her realize it was true. “There is something between us.”

He took her arms from around him and stepped aside.

“Yeah. Mason.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I always had you pegged as a straight shooter, but I guess you are probably used to saying whatever you have to in order to win an argument.”

He shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

He closed the gap between them in two long strides and reached for her, his hands briefly brushing over her shoulders before he dropped them to his sides.

“Don’t make this impossible,” he said.

“It already is,” she said. “Or maybe I’m the only one who feels this.”

He shook his head. “Dammit. You know you’re not.”

He stepped closer, and the waves of heat from his body enveloped her as he reached for her waist and drew her closer. She put her hand on his arm, and felt his biceps tense as he lifted her slightly off her feet.

He lowered his head toward hers, and she tipped hers back. Their eyes met. A flash of their entire history went through her mind. All the times they’d sat quietly talking in a corner while Mason had been entertaining their friends with some daring trick.

She knew that this was sudden and was afraid that Ethan would pull back. That he’d let his friendship with Mason keep them from kissing. So she did it.

She initiated the kiss.

His lips were warm and firm, but soft. When they parted, she tasted the lime and tequila on his tongue as it rubbed over hers.

She dug her fingers into his upper arm and lifted her head trying to get closer to him. He tasted good. His kiss was perfect, and so was the way he held her to him. She felt him shift so that he was leaning against the balcony railing, her body resting fully along his.

She felt his hard-on against her lower stomach, and her breasts were nestled against his chest. Just the thin layer of her nightgown kept her from feeling his skin against hers, and she wanted more. She let her thigh fall to one side so that his leg was between hers, and he groaned as his hands roamed down her back to her butt, cupping it and shifting her into a deeper contact with him.

She raised her head to look down at him, and he was watching her. Just staring up at her. She wasn’t sure she could read the emotion in his eyes, but it sparked something deep inside her that was more than sexual need.

She started to draw back, aware that she was craving something from him that felt dangerous and edgy, but he tunneled his hands in her hair and drew her head back to his.

* * *

Her hair was soft. Way softer than anything he’d touched recently. Her eyes were half-closed, lips wet and swollen from their kiss. Her hands were on his waist, holding him lightly. She tipped her head to the side, their eyes met, and he thought of all the arguments he could make. All the reasons that he could list to make himself drop his hands and walk away from her. But he wanted her.

And he’d been denying it for too long. It had been easy when she lived with Mason, but now that she was here in his house, sitting on his balcony, putting her hands just inches above his groin, he knew he wasn’t interested in anything other than following his gut instinct, which was clamoring for him to pick her up and carry her into his bedroom.

“Are you sure?” he asked. He had to. This was Crissanne. She meant more to him than a hookup.

And it didn’t matter to him if it wasn’t the same for her. She might be looking for sex from him just to forget or to make Mason jealous or for a million other reasons. But for him this was the one woman he’d wanted for over a decade. The one woman he’d thought he’d never touch like this. And he needed to be sure she wanted him, too.

“Yes,” she said, her fingers moving up the center of his body until she wrapped them around his neck and kissed his chin and then his jaw.

He stopped thinking. His mind shut down and he turned his head to capture her lips with his. His grip on the back of her head tightened a little bit as he tried to control the passion that was roiling through his veins.

She was unleashing something that he’d forgotten was a part of him. He groaned and then wrapped his arm around her hips, standing up and carrying her into his bedroom without breaking the kiss. He stepped over the threshold, and she pulled her head back.

He let her slide down his body, biting back a moan at how good she felt against him. And then he realized she might change her mind now.

Hell.

He would have to let her go if she did.

But please, God, don’t let her change her mind.

He watched as she trailed her fingers down his chest again, and then glanced over her shoulder at the king-size bed that dominated his room. The studded-leather headboard was mounted on the wall and there was a huge pile of pillows that his housekeeper arranged each morning when she made the bed. Above the bed were the horns of the first longhorn bull he’d raised when he was a kid.

“I always forget you’re a cowboy,” she said, turning to look at the horns.

He shrugged, taking her hand in his and drawing her closer to his bed. “Not really, but I can put on my boots and cowboy hat if you want me to.”

“Only if you lose these jeans first.”

“Uh, I don’t think any self-respecting cowboy would be seen like that,” Ethan said.

“Too bad,” she said, raising both eyebrows as she stepped back and let her eyes move slowly over his body. “You’d look damn good in just a hat and boots.”

He felt his chest swell and he couldn’t keep his pecs from flexing. “You think so?”

She nodded. “Maybe one day...”

“Maybe,” he said. He wasn’t sure he’d do that. He was a lawyer. He was the serious Caruthers brother. The arguer who was always thinking of the consequences. Which couldn’t be said of him tonight, as he stood there in his bedroom next to Crissanne with a raging hard-on.

She turned back to him, her hair swinging around her shoulders as she held her hand out to him. He took it, lacing their fingers together, and she stood on her tiptoes and put her hand in the center of his chest again, spreading her fingers out and rubbing her palm over his skin. A shiver went through him and he drew her closer. He lowered his head, but this time it was just so that their foreheads would meet.

He felt the brush of her exhalation against his neck and closed his eyes.

Crissanne Moss was in his bedroom.

All the feelings he’d been ignoring flooded him, and he realized he wanted this to be more than it could be. He wanted sex, of course; he couldn’t deny it. But he wanted her to somehow be his.

And that wasn’t what was happening.

This was a hookup. He knew it.

For her, this had to be rebound sex. Something to prove to herself she was still attractive.

He knew because he’d had a dozen hookups like this. Where he was sleeping with someone else to prove that he was over her. Over Crissanne.

And now she was here, and he knew that he was willing to be whatever she needed him to be tonight. He was done with pretending that he didn’t want her.

He cursed under his breath, and she shifted her head to the side, putting her finger over his lips.

“Don’t think,” she said.

“Is that the only way you can be here with me?” he asked.

She cursed, and he realized that he wasn’t going to do this.

* * *

She didn’t know how to answer Ethan’s question. Of course, the whole situation felt like trouble no matter how she sliced it up. She wanted him. She wanted to be with him. She had narrowed down the list of people she could stay with to him. And now she was in his bedroom trying to convince herself that she could get with him and then be cool the next day.

But even with her skill at ignoring her emotions, that sounded like an impossible situation.

“No. Not like you mean,” she said. “It’s just if we start to think, then we’re going to be back to pretending that we don’t want each other. And that’s a lie. I’m tired of pretending with you, Ethan.”

“You say that but you were with my best friend,” Ethan said.

“That’s over.”

“Is it? Or is this about making him jealous?” Ethan asked.

Was it? She hadn’t even thought about Mason when she’d gotten on the plane. She’d been thinking of the one person who’d always made her feel better.

“No. Honestly, there are men a lot closer to LA who would have fit the bill if that was my goal. I’m here with you...even though this is what I wanted to avoid. And once we start talking it’s going to get complicated.”

He sighed and then stepped back from her, walking over to the bar in the corner of his bedroom and then pouring himself something that looked like whiskey from where she stood.

“It was complicated before we started talking,” he said quietly. “We were both just letting our hormones direct us.”

“Was that so bad?” she asked.

“I don’t know. The thing is, Crissy, I don’t want either of us to wake up in the morning with regrets. And as good as tonight would feel I know that we would.”

“Why is nothing easy?” she asked out loud. But really she wanted the answer from herself. “I’ll leave in the morning. I saw an ad for a B and B in the ladies’ room at the restaurant tonight. I should have gone to a hotel or something.”

He just watched her, the whiskey glass in his hand. As he stared at her she felt the emotions coming off of him, but she was too turned on to think about how it was impacting him. She was embarrassed that they hadn’t just fallen into bed, and dealing with everything else was just beyond her tonight.

What was it that caused these men in her life to pull back? What was it she lacked? She couldn’t even get the man who’d looked at her with lust in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t paying attention to sleep with her.

She was broken in some way that the world picked up on. She hadn’t realized it until this moment, and if she were a different person, one who actually allowed herself to connect to her emotions, she knew she’d be crying.

But instead she just turned and walked out of his bedroom, past the fire pit and the discarded shot glasses and limes, and tried not to think about how the fun they’d had earlier had turned into this mess.

She entered her bedroom and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge, rubbing the back of her neck. She couldn’t stay here.

Not for another second.

She wondered at the pattern of her life that every time she ended up in a place she wanted to be, she ruined it and had to leave. This was a new record for her. Not even twenty-four hours.

Stop.

She forced herself to move.

No thinking.

The words that had changed everything in Ethan’s bedroom now motivated her to get up and get dressed. She pulled on a pair of jeans and the first T-shirt she touched. Then she got her suitcase from the closet and put it on the foot of her bed.

Her phone vibrated and lit up on the nightstand, but she ignored it. She wasn’t in the mood to read her news updates. She had enough on her plate right now.

She went back to the closet but her phone was blowing up with messages, vibrating like crazy. She walked over and glanced down at the screen, seeing they were from a number that wasn’t programmed into her phone. But based on the area code, she thought it might be the production company that Mason worked for.

Unlocking her phone, she opened the text messages and began reading them with a mounting sense of disbelief. Then she let the phone fall from her fingers as she sank to the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest.

Mason’s plane had crashed.

Oh my God.

She hadn’t thought she had anything left to feel, but she hadn’t been ready to say goodbye to him. She immediately tried to call Mason. His phone rang, and then a message came on saying that he was out of range and to try her call again later.

She texted the production company back, asking for more information. But there was no immediate response.

She hadn’t realized that until this moment a part of her had been holding out hope that he’d come back to her. It made her feel small and stupid, because she’d thought she was over him. That she’d buried those emotions so deep, pretending she didn’t feel them. But they were there.

“Crissanne.”

She glanced up to see Ethan standing at the foot of her bed. His phone was in his hand and his face was pale. She stood up and ran over to him.

“Did you get the message?”

“Yeah. I can’t get through to Mase or the guy who sent the text,” Ethan said.

“Me, either,” she admitted. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“I don’t know. We both know he can survive a lot. He’s got skills.”

“Yeah. Skills.”

Ethan opened his arms and she closed the gap between them, putting her head against his shoulder and just crying. She didn’t know what to say. Suddenly she was very glad she hadn’t slept with Ethan. Not tonight. Not now when Mason was...

“Do you think he’s dead?” she asked.

“I hope not.”

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