One Christmas can change your life…

Kyle Houseman believes he’ll never find anyone he could love as much as Olivia Arnold, who’s now married to his stepbrother. Not only did he lose her, he’s been through one divorce and has no desire to go through another. He’s determined to be extra careful about the next woman he gets involved with—which is why he fights his attraction to the beautiful stranger who rents his farmhouse for the Christmas holiday.

Lourdes Bennett is a country music artist. She’s only planning to stay in Whiskey Creek long enough to write the songs for her next album—the album that’s going to put her back on top. Her dreams don’t include settling in a town even smaller than the one she escaped. But as she comes to know Kyle, she begins to wonder if she’d be making a terrible mistake to leave him behind…

Praise for the Whiskey Creek novels of New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak

“This Heart of Mine is a potently emotional, powerfully life-affirming contemporary romance that can be read and enjoyed on its own, but it also serves as an excellent addition to Novak’s popular Whiskey Creek series.”

—Booklist (starred review)

“This Heart of Mine is another engrossing addition to Novak’s addictive series.”

—Library Journal (starred review)

“Novak’s Whiskey Creek novels are a favorite among romance readers because of their small-town charm… Novak never disappoints.”

—RT Book Reviews on This Heart of Mine (Top Pick)

“Novak is always a go-to author for sassy romance set in small towns loaded with charm. Her latest in the Whiskey Creek series is naughty and nice, and readers will fall in love with the magic of the season portrayed throughout.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Heart of Christmas (Top Pick)

“Once again Novak’s Whiskey Creek springs to life in all its realistic, gritty Gold Country glory as two determined, likable people come to terms with their pasts and give love a chance. This poignant, heartfelt romance puts a refreshing spin on the classic reunion/secret baby theme.”

—Library Journal on Come Home to Me

“[Brenda Novak] weaves a tight story of human weakness and longing, with cross threads of passion and hope. One needn’t wonder why Novak is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. Just read Come Home to Me.”

—Examiner.com

“The worst part of any Brenda Novak book is the last page. I always want more. Luckily there is usually another Novak book in the wings. The Whiskey Creek series is an absolute delight and this newest installment is…so satisfying I ran out of superlatives. Brenda Novak outdid herself in Take Me Home for Christmas.”

—Fresh Fiction

“It’s steamy, it’s poignant, it’s perfectly paced—it’s When Lightning Strikes and you don’t want to miss it.”

—USATODAY.com’s Happy Ever After blog

A Winter Wedding

Brenda Novak

www.mirabooks.co.uk

To Novak’s Notables, that special group of women who do so much to support me online.

Dear Reader,

It’s always a joy for me to return to Whiskey Creek. Even though it’s a fictional town, these days it feels like my second home. I love imagining the quaint bed-and-breakfasts, the Gas-N-Go, the ice-cream parlor, Just Like Mom’s Diner, even the spooky old cemetery—and I’m especially excited about this book because I’ve had so many readers request Kyle’s story. He first appeared in When We Touch (part of the Together for Christmas anthology, if you read print, and the digital prequel to the series, if you’re an ebook reader), so those of you who’ve read Brandon and Olivia’s story will know Kyle’s made a few mistakes. If you’ve been following the rest of the series, you will also know he’s paid for them and is a really kind, fabulous person who deserves his own happily-ever-after. But if you haven’t visited Whiskey Creek before, don’t worry. This book is written to stand on its own; you won’t be missing out.

Not only am I writing books set in Whiskey Creek, I’ve been working on a new trilogy set on Fairham Island, a fictional place off the coast of North Carolina. The first book in that trilogy, The Secret Sister, is already out, with more coming. You can find information about these and my other works on my website at brendanovak.com. There, you can also enter to win my monthly drawings, sign up for my newsletter, contact me with comments or questions or join my fight to find a cure for diabetes. My youngest son suffers from this disease. Thanks to the support of many, many wonderful people, I’ve been able to raise $2.5 million for the cause so far.

Happy reading!

Brenda Novak

WHISKEY CREEK Cast of Characters

Phoenix Fuller: Recently released from prison. Mother of Jacob Stinson, who is being raised by his father, Riley.

Riley Stinson: Contractor, father of Jacob.

Gail DeMarco: Owns a public relations firm in LA. Married to movie star Simon O’Neal.

Ted Dixon: Bestselling thriller writer, married to Sophia DeBussi.

Eve Harmon: Manages Little Mary’s B&B, which is owned by her family. Recently married to Lincoln McCormick, a newcomer.

Kyle Houseman: Owns a solar panel business. Formerly married to Noelle Arnold. Best friend of Riley Stinson.

Baxter North: Stockbroker in San Francisco who is moving back to Whiskey Creek.

Noah Rackham: Professional cyclist. Owns Crank It Up bike shop. Married to Adelaide Davies, chef and manager of Just Like Mom’s restaurant, owned by her grandmother.

Callie Vanetta: Photographer. Married to Levi McCloud/Pendleton, veteran of Afghanistan.

Olivia Arnold: Kyle Houseman’s original true love but married to Brandon Lucero, Kyle’s stepbrother.

Dylan Amos: Owns an auto-body shop with his brothers. Married to Cheyenne Christensen, and they have a baby boy.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Title Page

Dedication

Dear Reader

Cast of Characters

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

Epilogue

Copyright

1

“Your ex-wife is on the phone again.”

Kyle Houseman squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his forehead. There were few people in the world he considered as difficult as Noelle.

Actually, he couldn’t think of one.

“Did you hear me?” Morgan Thorpe, his assistant, stood at the entrance to his office wearing an impatient frown. Noelle (who still used his last name, which bothered him, since they’d been together for only a year) hadn’t been able to reach him on his cell. She’d tried three times in the past fifteen minutes and he’d let it go to voice mail. So she’d called his business line, which he’d specifically asked her not to do. He didn’t like the way she aired her complaints about him—and everything else—to anyone who’d listen.

His employees didn’t like it, either.

“I heard,” he replied.

“Are you going to take her call? Because if I have to talk to her again, I’m going to tell her exactly what I think of her.”

He gave Morgan a look to make sure she understood that would be a mistake. At forty-five, she wasn’t old enough to be his mother, but she often took a maternal approach with him, probably because she’d been working for him since he started First Step Solar. He’d hired her the same week she came out of the closet and moved in with her partner, who was as soft-spoken as Morgan was bold. “No, you’re not.”

“Why?” she cried. “Noelle’s a terrible person! She deserves whatever she gets!”

“We were once married. We still live in the same small town. We can figure out some way to get along.”

She rolled her eyes. “If it’s that easy, why are you avoiding her?”

She had a point. Dodging Noelle’s calls wouldn’t do him any good, anyway. She’d just track him down at his house or even a restaurant, if she had to. She did that kind of thing all the time—to plead for an advance on his spousal maintenance, a “small loan” to prevent her utilities from being turned off or money to get her car repaired. Once, she’d even asked him for five hundred bucks to go toward fixing her boob job (apparently, her body kept rejecting the implants, but instead of having them removed, she kept trying to make them work). It didn’t seem to matter that none of that was his responsibility anymore.

“Put her through,” he said with a sigh.

“That woman is insufferable. I don’t know how you tolerate her,” Morgan grumbled as she left.

He didn’t, either.

He glanced at the light blinking on his desk phone. Surely Noelle would find someone else and get remarried. He wished that would happen soon. It would save him $2,500 a month, not to mention the relief of not having to deal with her anymore. But he’d been wishing that for the past five years, ever since the divorce. He was beginning to suspect that as long as she had him to pay a hefty chunk of her monthly bills, she’d be unlikely to tie the knot with someone else. She wasn’t the type to part with a freebie. Besides, she saw his financial support as punishment for the fact that he’d never been able to love her—and, truth be told, he saw it in the same light. That was why he’d agreed to that amount and why he helped her out as often as he did. Guilt demanded it.

“Someday,” he muttered as he picked up.

“Someday what?” Noelle asked.

Someday he’d be rid of her. But he couldn’t say that. “Nothing. What’s going on? Why have you been blowing up my phone?”

“Why are you ignoring my calls?” she countered.

“Because I can’t think of any reason you’d need to talk to me. We are divorced, remember? And with all the money I’ve given you over the past few years—in the past several months alone—I’m a good six months ahead in my payments. That pretty much leaves you with no excuse.”

“It’s my water heater,” she said.

“Your what?”

“My water heater.”

She’d found something new to complain about? “What’s wrong with it?”

“It went out on me. I can’t take a shower or do laundry or dishes. I don’t have any hot water.”

He rocked back in his chair. “Then...shouldn’t you be looking up a plumber instead of bothering your ex-husband?”

“Why are you being rude? I’m calling because you happen to own a solar manufacturing plant. Can’t you give me a deal on a solar system? So I can get my hot water bill down?”

“I manufacture photovoltaic panels, Noelle. They run air conditioners and other electrical appliances. Anything that requires gas is a whole separate thing.” They’d been married, for God’s sake, and she still didn’t understand what he did for a living?

“You have connections for hot water systems, too. You put one in for Brandon and Olivia’s neighbor.”

Why had they told her he’d done that? “Mrs. Stein is nearly eighty and she lost her husband a year ago. I saw that she got a deal. That’s all.”

“You bought it from the manufacturer at wholesale and let her have it at cost. And your photovoltaic installers put it in for her.”

“Because she could use the break. Brandon asked me to help her out. Occasionally, I do favors like that for my brother.”

“Come on. You didn’t do it for Brandon’s sake.”

Irritation clawed deeper, causing his eye to twitch. “Of course I did. We’ve been getting along great,” he said, and that was true. He and Brandon had once been rivals. They hadn’t met until they were in high school, when Brandon’s mother married Kyle’s father. Two large-and-in-charge boys so close in age would understandably have a difficult period of adjustment. But the dynamic was different these days. In spite of everything that’d happened back then, and with Noelle and Olivia since, Kyle cared about Brandon. He got the impression Brandon cared, too. At least, he heard from his stepbrother quite a bit. He also saw Brandon and Olivia every Friday at Black Gold Coffee. They’d joined the close-knit group of friends Kyle had grown up with.

“Quit lying to yourself,” she spat. “You’d do anything for Olivia. The way you stare after her when she leaves a room—or you avoid looking at her if you’re in the same room—makes it so obvious. They’d see it themselves, except they don’t want to see it.”

His blood pressure shot a little higher. “Fine,” he said. “You want a solar hot water system? I’ll offer you the same deal I gave Brandon and Olivia’s neighbor.”

She seemed startled that he’d capitulated so suddenly. But there wasn’t any point in refusing. She’d never be able to afford it. Besides, he didn’t want to talk about Olivia. What Noelle said was true. Olivia was her sister—which was a big part of the reason Noelle had gone after him in the first place—but Olivia had been, and still was, the one great love of his life. She’d been with him before she’d ever been with Brandon.

“That’s better,” Noelle said. “So...how much will it cost? I have nearly $250 in my account.”

She stated that amount proudly. She wasn’t good at saving money, so this did signify quite a feat. But, as usual, she was completely clueless—or, more likely, calculatedly clueless. “That’s what I thought,” he said.

“What?”

“You don’t have enough to buy even a traditional water heater.”

“I don’t?” She sounded dismayed. “How much are they?”

“A decent one will run you eight hundred or more.”

“And how much is solar?”

“Nearly three grand.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she cried. “How do you expect me to pay that?”

“I don’t expect you to pay it. You need to drive over to the hardware store and see what’s in your price range.”

“In other words, you don’t give a shit whether I’m in a bind.”

His head was beginning to pound... “I’m sorry your water heater died, but it’s not my problem.”

“You can’t help me?”

Morgan tapped the glass between her workstation and his office and made a face at him.

He waved her away. “What do you expect me to do?”

“A solar hot water system can’t cost you that much,” she replied.

“It can and it does. Check the retail price and you’ll see it’s around six grand. Wholesale would be about half of that.”

“Then maybe you can put one in and let me make payments.”

“We’re divorced! And you’re only renting. Call your landlord.”

“Harry won’t do anything. He’s letting me stay here for a lot less than he’d charge someone else. Why do you think he gave me such a good deal?”

“Because he’s your cousin?”

“Because in order to get that deal, I have to take care of all maintenance and repairs.”

“Then it’s on you.”

“If you can’t get me solar, can you at least help me pay for a regular water heater? From what you just told me, I only need another $550. What’re a few hundred bucks to you? You make so much more than I do!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m obligated to pay for it. You got extra money out of me last month. And the month before.”

“Because I needed a D&C, Kyle. I’ve been having female trouble ever since I lost the baby. Remember?”

As usual, she’d chosen something he had to be careful not to question. That didn’t stop him from wondering, however. Had she really needed a D&C? Or were the documents she’d shown him forged? It could be that he’d paid for another boob job, after all. He wasn’t even sure she’d lost the baby that had supposedly created the need for a D&C. Had she even had a “miscarriage” five and a half years ago? Maybe she’d aborted it. He’d always suspected her of lying, suspected that after she got him to marry her, she’d purposely terminated the pregnancy. At that point, she wouldn’t see any reason to risk damaging her figure, which she protected above all else.

“I remember,” he said through gritted teeth. He didn’t want to talk about that, either. It was easier to bury the doubt and the suspicion and try to forget the past.

“You don’t care.”

Maybe he would if he believed it was true. But with Noelle—who could say? Whenever she needed money, she came up with an excuse he’d be hard-pressed to decline—medical treatment, that she’d be evicted, that she wouldn’t have electricity or food.

“Look, I paid for the procedure,” he said. “That’s all that matters. I hope you’re feeling better. Now I’ve got to go. I have a lot to do here—”

“Wait! What about my water heater?”

“What about it?” he asked in exasperation.

“You seriously won’t give me a small loan? Then will you let me stay in the farmhouse until I can get it fixed on my own?”

No way was she coming anywhere near his property. She would never live there. “Absolutely not. I’ve got the farmhouse cleaned up and ready to lease.”

“But it’s been ready to lease for two months, and it’s sat empty that whole time. Why not let me move in until I’m back on my feet? You’re not likely to get someone now.”

What was she talking about? “Why not?”

“The holidays. People are busy with shopping and wrapping and decorating.”

“Not everyone. Matter of fact, I have someone coming to see it tonight. He’s ninety percent sure he wants it. He just has to see it in person to confirm. Then he’ll sign.”

“Who is it?” she asked.

Kyle checked the information he’d jotted on his desk calendar. “Guy by the name of Meade.”

“Never heard of him...”

“He’s from Nashville. Only needs it for a few months, but he asked me to furnish it, so—”

“Furnish it with what?” she broke in. “It’s not like you have a furniture warehouse.”

“There are companies that rent furniture. I called a place in Sacramento, chose some items from their website, and they brought it all out. The place is move-in ready now. Looks great.”

“You went to that much trouble for someone who’s only staying for a few months? I thought you wanted a year’s lease. That’s what you told me when I asked about it.”

“He’s paying a premium—for the furniture, my time and trouble in acquiring it and the short term. Even if he decides he hates the house and I have to send the furniture back, he’s covering all of that. In any case, you didn’t lose out, because I wouldn’t let you move in, no matter what.” The past few months, she’d been trying her best to get back with him. The last thing he needed was to allow her to be that close—not to mention he’d never see a dime of rent.

“Even though I’d be willing to sign for a year?”

“Even if you’d be willing to sign for ten.”

“You can be so mean,” she said.

Mean? He thought he was being incredibly nice—considering that merely talking to her made him want to punch himself in the face. “We’ve talked about this before. I’ll take Meade’s deal, if I can get it, and try to find another tenant next summer, when school’s out.”

“That’s great for you, but what about me? Can’t I use it until he moves in?”

The childlike whine that entered her voice made his eye-twitch worse. Patience, he reminded himself. Breathe deeply and speak kindly. “He hasn’t said when that’ll be. But since he’s coming all the way from Tennessee to look at it, I’m guessing he could move in tonight.”

“In the middle of the storm that’s coming in?”

“Why not? He’ll just carry in his luggage. How hard can that be, whether there’s a storm or not?”

“So you’re going to leave me in the lurch—the woman who would’ve been the mother of your child if that child had survived?”

Before he could respond, Morgan knocked briskly and opened the door. “Don’t tell me you’re still on with her.”

He sent her a frown that told her to mind her own business, but she didn’t leave.

“I have a call from LA,” she said. “Some guy wants a special deal on a 10-megawatt order.”

Which was such a big order, no one at his company could provide the pricing but him. He changed the phone to his other ear. “Noelle, I’ve got to go.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this!”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“You have the contacts. You could get me a water heater and let me make payments, if you weren’t so stingy.”

“Kyle?” Morgan prompted, reminding him—as if he needed her to—of the far more important caller on the other line.

He almost told Noelle to go down to the hardware store and have the checker call him for his credit card information. He wanted to get rid of her, and they’d done that kind of remote purchase before, when someone threw a rock through her window (likely the girlfriend of someone she’d flirted with at Sexy Sadie’s). But the more he gave her, the more she’d keep coming back to him. He had to break the cycle...

Fortunately, he thought of a solution that should’ve been obvious to him from the start. “I’ve got a water heater here,” he said. “It’s the one I took out of Brandon’s neighbor’s house. If you’ll have someone pick it up and install it, I’ll give it to you.”

“You’re sure it works?”

Morgan propped her hands on her hips and scowled at him, refusing to leave until he took that business call.

“It did when my guys removed it. No reason that should’ve changed. She wanted solar mainly to be responsible to the environment.” He’d been planning to donate the water heater to a poor family who could use it. But Noelle fit the bill. She didn’t have much money, despite juggling two jobs. Working in retail part-time, and then as a barmaid nights and weekends, she didn’t make a whole lot. What she did earn, she spent on clothes and beauty aids.

“Okay. Thanks.” Noelle lowered her voice. “I’m happy to oblige if you’d like...something in return.”

“I don’t need anything,” he said.

“You sure about that?”

Where was she going with this? “Excuse me?”

“I remember the kinds of things you like...”

The suggestion in her voice made him uncomfortable. “I hope you’re not referring to—”

“It’s not like you’re getting laid anywhere else,” she interrupted. “A visit here and there could be our little secret, a temporary solution, so you don’t have to go without. I mean, what’s the big deal? It’s not like we haven’t slept together before.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that,” he said and hung up.

Morgan, who’d changed her position to stand with her arms folded, fingers drumming her biceps, raised her eyebrows. “What’s she after now?”

“Nothing.”

“You look thoroughly disgusted,” she said and laughed at him when he growled at her to get out and shut the door.

Kyle was wrapping up his conversation with the client from Los Angeles when Morgan came in again. This time she sat in the chair across from his desk while waiting for him to finish.

“Don’t tell me Noelle’s already here,” he said when he’d disconnected.

“No. I’m hoping to be gone by then. This is good news.”

He sat up taller. After having his ex-wife, of all people, make an issue of his dismal love life, he could use some good news. “What is it?”

“I received a call from that dude who wants to rent the farmhouse.”

“I hope he’s not canceling,” Kyle said. “Noelle keeps asking if she can move in. I’ll be relieved when it’s occupied and she can’t bug me about it anymore.”

“Can’t she just move out of town instead?” Morgan responded. “No one would miss her.”

Yet another reason Kyle forced himself to be decent to her. Despite all the terrible things she’d done—especially to him—he felt sorry for her. She couldn’t seem to avoid screwing up her own life. “She’s trying to launch a modeling career. Maybe she’ll be discovered and relocate to New York or LA.”

“She’s delusional if she thinks anyone’s going to pay her to model! She—”

“What’s your news?”

She scowled in apparent frustration. She was all revved up, and he’d removed her target. “Fine,” she said, shifting gears. “Meade’s no longer coming, but—” she held up a hand so he wouldn’t react too soon “—he wasn’t looking at the house for himself, anyway.”

“Who’s it for?”

“A client he manages.” She grinned. “Are you ready for this?”

“You have my full attention,” he said drily. He liked his assistant, but she got on his nerves occasionally. After dealing with Noelle, he preferred to be left alone right now so he could get some work done. He didn’t want to stay late tonight. He didn’t live far, but he’d rather not get caught in the storm they were expecting. It was supposed to be the worst they’d had in twenty years.

“Lourdes Bennett,” she announced.

The way she’d said the name sounded like ta-da!

“Bennett? Is she related to our police chief?”

“No! There’s no connection. You don’t recognize the name Lourdes Bennett?”

“Should I?”

“She’s a country-western singer!”

“Am I supposed to be familiar with every country-western singer?”

“Not necessarily, but she has several hit songs—and she was born and raised less than an hour away.”

Now that she’d jogged his memory, Kyle realized he had heard of Lourdes. He just hadn’t expected the person who might be renting his farmhouse to be someone truly famous. “In Angel’s Camp, right? This is the Lourdes Bennett who sings ‘Stone Cold Lover’?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why would she have any interest in coming here?” he asked.

“I have no clue,” Morgan replied. “But you’re about to find out. She flew into Sacramento Airport this morning and rented a car. She’s on her way, should be here any minute.”

“Is she coming by herself?”

“Sounded like it.”

Kyle scratched his head. “That seems odd.”

“What seems odd?”

“The whole thing. If she’s from Angel’s Camp, why isn’t she going there? Why would she want to spend the holidays in Whiskey Creek?”

“You’ll have to ask her,” Morgan said. “Unless you want me to show the house. I’d be happy to take over for you.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Sorry, you have a couple of hours before quitting time, which you’ll spend here. I’ll take care of meeting Ms. Bennett.”

She huffed. “Great. I’ll be the one to get tortured by your ex-wife.”

“Just point her to the back corner of the warehouse, where I put that used water heater.”

“I’d like to point her somewhere, but it isn’t to the back of the warehouse.”

He chuckled. “Be careful crossing her. She can be vengeful.”

“You’re too nice to her. She doesn’t deserve a guy like you, even as an ex.” She mimed zipping her lips. “But that’s it. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Thank you.”

She straightened the cowl of her sweater. “I hope Lourdes Bennett wants the house. Wouldn’t it be exciting to have her in town—on your property?”

He wasn’t so sure. Thanks to Noelle, he’d had about all he could take of difficult women. “Unless she’s a diva. But if she is a diva, I can’t imagine why she’d rent my house. A diva would want something fancier—in Bel Air or the Bay Area.”

“Whiskey Creek may not be as famous as San Francisco or LA, but it’s beautiful here in the foothills. And she’ll love the house. After what you’ve done to the place, who wouldn’t?”

Built in the thirties, it had once been a farmhouse, which was why they still referred to it as the farmhouse. When he’d purchased the land so he could expand his plant, he’d decided to update the house that was there and turn it into another rental. He already had a couple of places he rented out, so it made sense. “The house is only about a thousand square feet.” He’d opened up the kitchen and living room areas and expanded the office, but there were only two bedrooms and two baths. That wouldn’t be conducive to hosting a large group, so if she planned to bring her whole entourage for a Christmas party or something, it wouldn’t work.

“One person can’t need any more space than that,” Morgan said.

“If it is just one person.” Kyle was tempted to search Google for Lourdes’s name. He sometimes listened to country-western music, enough to be familiar with her song “Stone Cold Lover” as well as one other that he couldn’t remember the title of. But he didn’t know anything about her background, family, age or marital status, and now he was curious. From the pictures he’d seen, she didn’t look much older than twenty-five or twenty-six, but who knew how current those photos were? She could’ve played the bars and honky-tonks for years before getting any serious attention.

He would’ve taken a few minutes to read up on her if he hadn’t been afraid Noelle would arrive before he could leave. That made him decide to use his smartphone instead of his computer, since he could do it off the premises.

Grabbing his coat, he told Morgan he’d see her in the morning and drove over to the rental.

2

This was what all the fame and fortune she’d earned so far boiled down to?

Lourdes Bennett frowned as she pulled up beside the truck that was parked at the address she’d been given and removed her sunglasses so she could get a better look at the place. The countryside she’d passed through felt familiar—little wonder, since she’d grown up in a similar town not far from Whiskey Creek. And the house, an old-fashioned, wooden A-frame, was charming. A swing hung on the front porch, further enhancing its homey appeal. But Whiskey Creek wasn’t where she’d be if all was well in her life. So far, her exile was self-imposed, but if she couldn’t get back on top of her career, there’d be no point in returning to Nashville for professional reasons.

A man appeared in the doorway. Had to be the landlord. He must’ve heard her drive up.

Quickly sliding her sunglasses back on—as a shield against his recognition of her more than anything else, since that could be awkward—Lourdes opened her door and stepped out. It was starting to get dark, but she could still see.

“You found it okay, huh?” the man said as he came toward her.

The wind had kicked up and tossed her hair, and she held it back. “Just followed my GPS.”

“I’m glad it didn’t lead you astray. GPS can be kind of squirrelly in some places. With all the hills in Gold Country, you can’t always get a signal.” When he drew close, he stuck out his hand. “Kyle Houseman.”

Fairly tall, maybe six-one, her landlord looked a great deal like Dierks Bentley, only with darker hair. She’d played several gigs with Dierks over the years, so she could easily compare them. Not only did they have similar facial features, they also were both fit, both in their midthirties, and they both had million-dollar smiles.

“I’m Lourdes.” She didn’t mention her last name. She preferred not to make a big splash. That was why she’d asked Derrick to handle the negotiations, and why she’d chosen Whiskey Creek instead of Angel’s Camp. Whiskey Creek was as close to home as she could get while keeping a low profile.

“I’m familiar with some of your songs,” Kyle said. “Congratulations on your success.”

Her first album had received quite a bit of radio play, which was more than most aspiring artists obtained. The success had been fun while it lasted, but after the decade it had taken to land a major label, it hadn’t lasted nearly long enough. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m not looking for that sort of attention—for any attention, really. I just need a quiet place to get away for a few months.” And to try to reclaim what she’d destroyed when she attempted to make it in an even bigger market and switched over to pop music. “You know, without anyone noticing.”

“No problem. Not on my end, anyway. But...” He studied her for several seconds. “You grew up in a small town.”

“Yes.”

“Then you know what they’re like, how people talk.”

“Of course. I don’t plan to be seen much. And this house seems to be off the beaten path. Surely no one would approach me in my home...er, your home.” She couldn’t say the same for Angel’s Camp. After her father died of bladder cancer, her mother had followed her to Nashville. She’d always wanted to be there, since she’d once had dreams of a music career of her own. So, shortly after Lourdes’s two younger sisters, Mindy and Lindy, identical twins, had graduated from high school, Renate bought a nice three-bedroom, two-bath condo not far from Lourdes’s own place. And once Mindy and Lindy had finished college, they’d settled in Tennessee, too. They were currently sharing an apartment. Although her family had never expected Lourdes to help them financially, everyone wanted to be part of the exciting things that were happening to her, to experience something new. Lourdes would’ve liked to go back to Angel’s Camp. She missed it. But her old friends—and her family’s friends—knew her well enough that they wouldn’t even attempt to respect her privacy.

“I can’t imagine they would,” he agreed.

She looked beyond him at the front porch. “Then I like the place so far.”

“It’s small,” he said, as if that would be a drawback for her.

“I don’t need a lot of room. I’ll just be writing some new songs.” Just. That was the understatement of the year. She had to come up with billboard gold...

“You’re planning a new album?”

“I am.” Did he know how badly Hot City Lights had tanked? That would depend on how well acquainted he was with the music world. Although the critics had liked the album, it hadn’t sold. Everyone who really counted understood that she was losing everything she’d established. She needed to win back her fans and prove to Derrick that he hadn’t bet on the wrong girl. And she didn’t have a lot of time. The further she went between releases, the harder her comeback would be. Timing might be even more critical to her relationship with Derrick. He’d recently acquired a new client, an up-and-coming artist named Crystal Holtree, whom the media had dubbed “Crystal Hottie.” Lourdes had seen the way he looked at Crystal, couldn’t help remembering when he’d looked at her that way—

“Something wrong?” Kyle asked.

Hitching her purse higher on one shoulder, Lourdes returned her attention to her prospective landlord. “No. I apologize. I was daydreaming. Shall we take a look at the inside?”

The house was every bit as wonderful as the photographs she’d seen online. It was old where old was preferable, with tall ceilings, hardwood floors, heavy framed windows and moldings, plus the original doors, complete with fancy hardware. And it was new where new was preferable, featuring an expansive kitchen, two large bedrooms, each with a walk-in closet, and completely updated bathrooms. Best of all, there was a beautiful set of French doors leading to an office, which she’d use as her music room.

Although he might have had help, her landlord had even done a halfway decent job of furnishing the place. There weren’t any window coverings, but the location was secluded enough that they weren’t necessary.

Derrick had been right; it was perfect.

So why had he decided, at the last minute, not to come with her?

Because he preferred to be with Crystal. As much as he denied that, Lourdes could feel it in her soul...

She was on her own for the first time in years, without the man she loved, who was also the manager who’d promised to take her back to number one, and without real hope that she’d be able to reclaim the momentum she’d lost in both her personal and professional lives.

Still, she had her guitar. That was all she’d started with when she moved to Nashville at eighteen, wasn’t it? If she could come up with a handful of songs that were special—no, groundbreaking—maybe it wouldn’t be too late to turn her luck around. And this place, isolated and yet familiar enough for her to feel comfortable, would offer just the refuge she needed.

“I’m ready to sign the rental agreement,” she said.

* * *

Lourdes Bennett had arrived at Kyle’s farmhouse only a few minutes after he did, so he hadn’t had time to read about her. He’d barely pulled her up on Wikipedia when he’d heard the sound of her car and shoved his phone in his pocket. But now that he was home and could surf the internet at his leisure, he’d spent over an hour visiting her website as well as exploring several other links that contained less official information.

He hadn’t been nervous about approaching a woman in a long time, but when she’d gotten out of the car, and he’d caught his first glimpse of her, he’d suddenly—and against all expectation—gone a little weak in the knees. He didn’t care about her fame. His best friend had married a major movie star, so he knew someone far more famous. It was that she was so attractive. Usually the pictures people posted looked a lot better than the real thing. That wasn’t the case with Lourdes Bennett. Her blond hair had fallen about her shoulders in a thick, wavy mass. Her skin was pale, but she also had the smoothest, creamiest complexion he’d ever seen. And her eyes! They reminded him of the azure color of the Caribbean Sea.

“Of course she has a boyfriend,” he muttered when he found a picture of her at the Country Music Association Awards posing with none other than a man identified in the caption as Derrick Meade, her manager. Apparently, her relationship with Meade went beyond business. The same caption indicated that after Derrick had helped America “discover” her, the two had started dating, and they’d been a couple for six months, even though he had to be at least twelve to fifteen years older.

That picture had been taken two years ago, before her last album came out. Kyle couldn’t find as many public appearances after the release of Hot City Lights, and nothing more about her and Derrick. But he guessed they were still seeing each other. It was Derrick who’d called to line up the farmhouse, wasn’t it? That meant he’d probably be joining her periodically—maybe on weekends—and certainly for Christmas...

Disappointed in spite of all the reasons he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, he went into the kitchen to crack open a beer. Then he jumped. Someone was at his window, peering in at him!

A second later he realized who it was. Noelle.

With a curse, he put down his beer.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he swung open the door.

She threaded her way through his shrubbery to reach the porch. “My, aren’t you in a good mood.”

“What did you expect? You were peeping at me!”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. Your truck’s in the drive, so I was trying to see where you were. I knocked but you didn’t answer.”

“Because I didn’t hear anything.” He must’ve been too absorbed in researching Lourdes Bennett. “What do you need?”

“I couldn’t get someone to help me with the water heater until after your office closed. A.J. and I have been trying to get in, but—”

“A.J.?” That wasn’t a name he’d heard around Whiskey Creek.

“Yeah. He works with me at Sexy Sadie’s. He took Fisk’s place when Fisk moved to Vegas and a job opened up at the bar.”

Once upon a time, Kyle would’ve known all the bartenders at the local pub. He’d hung out there quite a lot over the years. There weren’t many other places to go for fun in a town of only two thousand. But now that nearly all his friends were married, he spent most of his weekends working.

“I was hoping you’d lend me the key,” Noelle said. “We’ll bring it back after we grab the water heater.”

No way would he ever trust her with access to his office. “I’ll drive over and let you in,” he said. “But...why didn’t you just call me? I could’ve met you there.”

“Check your phone,” she said. “You didn’t pick up.”

His phone hadn’t rung; it hadn’t even buzzed. But when he pulled it from his pocket, he could see why. He’d inadvertently turned on the “do not disturb” feature.

Or maybe he’d done it subconsciously. He really didn’t want to be interrupted tonight, especially by her.

“Give me a minute. I’ll be right out.”

He went to his bedroom to retrieve his coat before scooping his keys off the counter.

It took longer to load the water heater in A.J.’s truck than Kyle had thought it would. A.J. needed to clarify the instructions on how to install it—again and again. Kyle almost offered to do it himself. Obviously, A.J. wasn’t mechanically inclined and wouldn’t be much help to Noelle. But then Kyle got a text from a number he didn’t recognize that said:

This is Lourdes. I can’t get the furnace to come on, and it’s freezing in this house.

“What is it?” Noelle asked.

He lowered his phone so she wouldn’t be able to read the message. “There’s a problem with my new renter. I’ve got to go.”

“So that Meade guy took the place? The farmhouse has been leased?”

He hesitated at her assumption. His tenant wasn’t the man he’d mentioned to her earlier. But Lourdes didn’t want to be bothered while she was in Whiskey Creek. And if he told Noelle they had a famous country singer in their midst, she’d spread the word all over town. She might even show up at the farmhouse, claiming she was his ex and therefore had some right to the property.

He couldn’t allow that to happen. “Yeah. It’s a done deal,” he said.

“That was fast!”

“He was serious. He had me furnish it, remember?”

She didn’t seem to mind that A.J. was tying down the water heater without her help. “I remember,” she said. “But what does someone from Nashville want with a house on a remote piece of land outside Whiskey Creek? This isn’t exactly Tahoe. If it was, maybe I’d have a shot at being discovered,” she added wryly.

If only she would move to Lake Tahoe or LA. Or New York. The farther, the better. But her lack of resources precluded it.

“He’s looking for some solitude,” he said. “An escape from the demands of his usual life.”

“How long’s he staying?”

“For a few months, like I told you.”

“That sucks. You should’ve rented to me.”

Kyle felt his eye-twitch coming back. “The duplex you’re living in is fine. What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s a dump compared to the farmhouse.”

“Maybe you can find something you’re happier with after Christmas,” he said, but for once, placating her didn’t seem to be necessary. He could tell by her expression that she’d already switched gears.

“How old is he?” she asked.

“About our age.”

“Is he handsome?”

Apparently, she and A.J. didn’t have anything going on romantically, or she wouldn’t be asking such obvious questions with her helper in hearing distance. “I couldn’t tell you,” Kyle said. “I’m not used to judging other guys in that way. But it doesn’t matter. He’s with someone.”

“He’s married?” she asked.

“It might not be that official, but he’s been with the same woman for a few years. So enough with the nosy questions. My renter isn’t an option for you.”

“You’ve gotten ornery,” she complained.

“What are you talking about? I just solved your hot water problem.” And he was standing outside, freezing his ass off because of her when it was about to snow.

“You comin’?” A.J. called as he jumped to the ground and circled around to the driver’s side.

“Yeah, I’m comin’,” Noelle said. Then she surprised Kyle with a hug. “You look good, you know that? You look real good. God, I miss you.”

Before he could react, she released him and turned away. But as she got in with A.J., she called over her shoulder, “Think about what I said before. You’ve got to be lonely. Now even Riley’s getting married. Who will you hang out with when he’s as pussy whipped as your other friends?”

“Baxter’s moving home,” he said. He’d been consoling himself with that news for several weeks...

“Baxter’s gay, Kyle.”

“You think I’m not aware of that?”

“You’re not being realistic. I doubt he’ll be interested in going places where you can meet girls.”

He frowned as he gazed at the wind-tossed branches of the trees. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m just saying I’d be happy to be your buddy if you want me to.” With a wink, she shut the door.

He could never be that desperate. If only he hadn’t been stupid enough to get involved with her in the first place, he’d be married to Olivia. Instead, Olivia was married to Brandon.

He waited until Noelle and her bartender friend drove off before taking out his phone to respond to Lourdes’s message.

I’m on my way, he wrote back.

* * *

Lourdes was wearing a holey Budweiser T-shirt she’d inherited from a member of her stage crew, a pair of Victoria’s Secret sweat bottoms and a belted, big-collared sweater her mother had given her a year ago for Christmas. None of it matched, including her fuzzy socks. She’d bought those for their softness alone. Too bad they weren’t as warm as they looked. She’d forgotten her sheepskin slippers at her estate in Tennessee, which was a mistake. The weather outside was reminding her that even parts of California could get cold.

Since she was waiting for her landlord, she considered changing. Not only was she wearing frumpy, shapeless clothes, she’d removed her makeup and piled her hair on top of her head. But she was too depressed to care. So what if Kyle Houseman was handsome? He was probably married. Even if he wasn’t, she was in a relationship.

A knock alerted her to his arrival. She went to answer the door but paused after peeking through the peephole. Was she really going to let him see her like this? It wasn’t just that he was so good-looking; she’d grown accustomed to maintaining her image. Being famous meant that people had certain expectations of her, and those expectations weren’t always realistic.

But this was exactly the type of pressure she’d come to Whiskey Creek to avoid. For her own sanity, she had to escape the need she felt to compete—in the music world and in her personal life with the incomparable, and much younger, Crystal. She needed to be a regular person for a while. Needed to take a step back and root out the panic and neuroticism that was taking hold and turning her into someone she no longer recognized.

After tightening the belt of her sweater, she opened the door. “I’m sorry I had to bother you,” she said, stepping aside to let him in.

“Sounds to me as if you had every right. I’m sorry you couldn’t get the furnace to work. It’s a brand-new unit, so I can’t believe there’s anything terribly wrong. I’ll try to figure out what’s going on.”

He had a tool chest in one hand, which he put on the floor while he fiddled with the thermostat.

Instinctively, she folded her arms across her chest. She was wearing so many layers he’d never be able to tell she hadn’t put on a bra. But there was something about him that made her more aware of him than she should be. “So you handle your own repairs?”

“Only the easy ones.”

She wasn’t sure why she was feeling self-conscious; he’d hardly looked at her.

“To be honest, I’m no handyman,” he added. “But it’s after five, so I’m all we’ve got for today.”

He had a nice skin tone. She also liked his dark five-o’clock shadow, which contrasted with his kind eyes and the laugh lines around them. It made him look a little uncivilized. “Then what do you do for a living? Besides own rental property?”

“I’m a solar manufacturer. You can’t see the plant from here, because of the trees and the rolling hills in between, but if you drive east about half a mile, you’ll reach my factory.”

“No wonder you got here so quickly.”

“I happened to be at the plant taking care of something when you texted me, but my house is even closer.” He frowned as he adjusted the thermostat. It was digital, with an abundance of programs and cycles. Lourdes didn’t understand why a device that could’ve been so simple—and used to be—had been made so complex. Maybe the furnace didn’t work because she’d been messing with the various buttons and screwed something up...

She perched on the arm of the leather sofa in the living room. “Solar must be a thriving business, what with everyone talking about carbon footprint.”

“As time goes by and the price of solar modules comes down, more and more people are making the switch.”

“Then you’re poised for growth.”

“Thanks to various government incentives, it’s been a good field—and it’s getting better.”

If she couldn’t create the kind of album she needed, maybe she could learn enough to open a solar plant. Except she’d be miserable. All she’d ever wanted to do was sing.

She picked up her guitar and ran through a few chords. She used it so much and had used it for so long that it almost felt like a part of her. It was comforting just to have it in her hands. “Does this house have solar? Is that why we have no heat? Because there’s been no sun?”

He chuckled.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing. I had to explain to someone else that— Never mind. Anyway, yes, this place has solar, but it also has a gas furnace. The solar system delivers the electricity. So the air-conditioning, most of the appliances, the sprinkler system and the lights all run off the solar. I could’ve installed a special heating unit, too. But it didn’t seem cost-effective for a rental.”

“Tenants usually pay their own utilities.”

“That’s a consideration for some landlords, yes.” He frowned as he turned to her. “There’s nothing wrong with this thermostat—not that I can tell. I’ll check the unit itself.”

After reclaiming his tools, he went out back while she set her guitar aside and stood at the kitchen window, watching his flashlight bob as he walked. He looked good in those jeans, she thought—then stopped herself. She had no business admiring his backside.

He returned about fifteen minutes later but said he couldn’t find anything wrong with the unit itself, either. He suggested it might not be getting power and tried throwing the circuit breaker.

When that didn’t work, he came back in and, muttering something she couldn’t hear, tried the thermostat again. Only then did he reluctantly admit that he couldn’t fix it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not an HVAC guy, but I can get one out here first thing in the morning. The bad news is that this place won’t get any warmer tonight. So I’ll pay for you to stay at one of the two bed-and-breakfasts in town. They’re both comfortable, and you can have breakfast in bed, which is more than you’ll get if you stay here.”

He was trying to make it as appealing as possible. She was tempted to accept his solution, especially when he gave her a crooked grin that revealed how uncomfortable he felt at having to ask. But she wasn’t interested in staying anywhere else. “I can’t go into town,” she said. “I’d rather not be seen, don’t want to deal with...all that celebrity stuff. I told you before, I’m here to lie low.”

His eyes widened slightly. “I wish I had a better solution, but I don’t. You can’t stay here. It’s too cold, and it’s going to get colder. Maybe you haven’t heard, but we have a huge storm moving in. It’s already snowing.”

Once again, she tightened the belt on her sweater. “I’ve noticed.”

“So, please, will you allow me to put you up somewhere? One of the B and Bs in town? Little Mary’s belongs to a good friend of mine. I’ll call her. If she hasn’t left for the day, she’ll let you in the back way.”

Lourdes really didn’t want to deal with any strangers. She felt bruised and battered by all the setbacks she’d experienced in the past few months. She just wanted to hide out. That was why she’d come here to begin with. She could’ve gone to a motel or a B and B anywhere.

“I’d rather not.”

He seemed at a complete loss. “So...what are you going to do?”

“I’ll be fine here. I’ll...wear my coat and pile on the blankets, get through the night somehow.”

“Are you serious?” he said.

“Yes. I’m serious. I’ll survive.”

A scowl descended. “There’s a real possibility you won’t. In any case, I can’t take that risk. I’d be too worried. And think of all the people who’d be devastated if something happened to you.”

She wondered if that would include Derrick, or if he’d be, on some level at least, relieved that he could pursue Crystal without having to worry about her anymore.

Then she felt guilty for even thinking that. Derrick would never cheat. He said he loved her. They’d been talking about getting married.

But that was before Crystal had come into his life six months ago. Since then, he’d been saying things like, “There’s no need to rush into anything.”

Was that merely a coincidence?

“Would you rather stay closer to where you grew up?” Kyle asked. “I could try to find someplace in Angel’s Camp.”

That definitely wasn’t a solution. Although she longed for the place where she’d been raised, she needed anonymity more. “Absolutely not.”

“You have to go somewhere,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

His scowl darkened. “Yes, you do!”

They stared at each other in a silent contest of wills, until he sighed and jabbed a hand through his hair. “Come on, Ms. Bennett. Help me out. I’m just trying to keep you safe and warm.”

“Fine, Mr. Houseman.” It felt odd to be addressing a contemporary so formally. But he’d set the precedent. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go home with you.”

His mouth fell open. “What’d you say?”

“You told me you live close by. We’ll just...go over to your place until morning. As long as your wife won’t mind letting me sleep on the couch—”

“I don’t have a wife,” he said.

“That makes it even simpler.”

“But...you don’t know me.”

“I hardly think my staying under your roof will provide you with any new opportunities.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re alone right now, aren’t we? Besides, I’m sure you have a key to this place other than the one you gave me, so you could come back at any time.”

“I have a key,” he admitted. “But only in case you lose yours or get locked out or something. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The appalled look on his face lent those words plenty of credibility. “My point exactly. I’ll grab my bag.”

He spoke before she could leave the room. “Staying with me—that’s the solution you’ll accept?”

“If it means I don’t have to see or speak to anyone else, yes.”

“I live alone. I don’t even have a dog because I work so much.”

“See? This will be perfect—well, as perfect as we’re going to get under the circumstances. We don’t have far to go, and your refrigerator’s probably stocked.”

“You’re hungry?”

“I am. And as far as I’m concerned, you owe me dinner for this. So your place sounds like the best solution all around.”

“Okay,” he said, but he looked so stunned she almost laughed as she hurried into the bedroom.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” he called after her. “Practically everything in this house is new. I had the renovation done when the weather was good, so I’ve never tried to turn on the heat. And now I’m convinced the person who installed the furnace didn’t check it thoroughly.”

“I realize this wasn’t your intention.” She closed her suitcase and dragged it out, grateful that she hadn’t completely unpacked.

She found him leaning against one wall with his tools at his feet and his hands jammed in the pockets of his coat. “If you’d feel more comfortable, I could ask one of my female friends to put you up for the night,” he said. “I didn’t offer because...well, I never thought you’d prefer staying in my home to a B and B. But Callie’s married and pregnant and also lives out of town. I bet you’d like her farm.”

“I’m not willing to meet anyone else, so your place will be fine.” She grabbed her guitar; no way would she ever leave that behind. “Let’s go. It’s getting colder by the second. And it might take you some time to work out what you’re going to feed me.”

3

Kyle’s cupboards weren’t filled with the ingredients he felt he needed to make a meal for Lourdes Bennett—or any other woman he would’ve liked to impress. He hadn’t been to the grocery store in over a week, which meant he was down to some condiments, some frozen meat, a few eggs and half a loaf of bread.

As he stared into his refrigerator, trying to figure out what he could make, his unexpected houseguest wandered around his living room. At least the teenage girl he paid to clean his house and offices had come yesterday. He’d never been happier that he’d let Molly Tringette talk him into giving her a part-time job so she could save up for college.

“You must like old houses,” Lourdes said.

Giving up on the fridge, he moved to the pantry. “I do. But it’s not as if I set out to buy any. This place happened to be on the land where I built my plant. Made sense for me to live here.”

“Looks like it’s been recently updated.”

“Yes. I used to live in a smaller house even closer to the plant—for fifteen years, ever since I graduated from college. I rented this one out for quite a while.”

“That’s when you opened your business? Fifteen years ago?”

“I was set on manufacturing solar modules from the beginning.”

“You must have rich parents to start such an expensive business right out of college.”

“No. Not at all.”

“Then how’d you get into it?”

Canned goods. Crackers. Oatmeal... Nothing jumped out at him. But he supposed he wasn’t going to find a Caesar salad, bacon and cheddar-topped potatoes and filet mignon in the pantry. He’d have to make whatever they ate, and he didn’t have a lot to work with. “Somehow I convinced the president of our local bank to give me a loan. What with all the new regulations, I doubt the same scenario could happen these days. He lent me that money based solely on his confidence in me.”

“I can only imagine what you must’ve been like—so young and full of ambition.”

“I was certainly driven. But solar was a gamble back then. When I think about it, I’m still surprised he did it.” Giving up on the pantry, he returned to the fridge—as if he might see something different when he looked in it a second time.

“Why was solar such a gamble? Most people see it as the wave of the future.”

“That long ago, the ‘wave of the future’ was too expensive for all but the richest people. That made it hard to sell.”

“I would’ve bet on you, too. In a heartbeat.”

He turned to look at her. “To what do I owe such a compliment? My trustworthy face?”

“I’d credit it more to your inherent confidence. You believe you can do...whatever, so the people around you believe it, too.”

How had she come up with that? They knew virtually nothing about each other. “I had no idea I was so confident that complete strangers could tell.”

“I’m good at reading people.” She gestured around her. “So...you fulfilled your obligation to the bank, and then you remodeled?”

He wondered whether she’d mind if he ran to town to get dinner. He almost suggested it. But she’d said she was hungry, and he guessed she’d prefer not to wait. “I wasn’t in a hurry to put any money into the house. The business has always been my top priority. But last year when I bought the property with the house you’re renting and decided to clean it up, I figured I might as well update this one, too, and move into it.”

That he’d finally gone ahead and made so many improvements drove Noelle nuts, since she’d been dying to fix up one of his houses while they were married. Actually, she’d started out begging him to buy her a big house in town—something that would show wealth and status, and where she could be at the center of activity. He’d refused, and his refusal had caused so many arguments between them that he’d stonewalled her when she eventually gave up and asked for a remodel of one of his current homes instead.

Now he felt like a stubborn ass. He could’ve allowed her to enjoy the process—as well as the finished product. But he’d been so irritated with how shallow she was, and was so miserable being married to her, he’d dug in his heels.

In retrospect, he understood that making her live in an old house he could’ve remodeled but wouldn’t was his revenge for knowing she’d trapped him to begin with.

“You must’ve used the same contractor,” Lourdes mused.

“Yes. One of my best friends, Riley Stinson.”

“He does quality work.”

“Come spring, he’s planning to renovate the house next door, which I’m currently renting to one of my employees, and the one closer to the plant, which is currently empty. They’ll look a lot different when he’s done.”

She stared out at the snow falling into his backyard, which wasn’t a yard so much as a large field. “How many employees do you have?”

“Fourteen, at the moment.”

“That must make you the biggest employer in Whiskey Creek.”

He chuckled as he moved the ketchup and pickles to see if there was anything behind them.

He found...butter. Great.

“Possibly,” he responded. “But that isn’t saying much.”

“Were you born here?”

“I was.” What if he made eggs and toast? It wasn’t a fancy meal, but he had a whole shelf of homemade jelly he’d bought from Morgan’s partner, who canned every spring and then foisted off on him whatever she couldn’t sell elsewhere. Along with some good coffee, fried eggs could be enjoyable...

“Have you ever considered leaving?” she asked.

He straightened. “Whiskey Creek? No, not really. Why would I want to do that?”

“Don’t you ever feel it’s too...confining?”

He thought of Noelle. She found it too confining. But he wasn’t like that. He loved it here, couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. Noelle was the only thing that ever made him want to leave. “No. My parents are in town, and they’re getting older. With my sister and her kids living in Pennsylvania, I need to help look after Mom and Dad. I don’t want to leave it all to my stepbrother, Brandon. Besides, I like the people here, the land, the freedom. Being in a big city, with the traffic and the noise and the pollution...that’s not me.”

“I see. You’re a cowboy at heart.”

“Not a cowboy. I don’t rope or ride. Don’t own a pair of cowboy boots or a Western buckle. But I’m definitely a small-town kind of guy.” He lifted the carton of eggs. “Any chance you’d be interested in breakfast for dinner?”

She turned away from the window. “I could eat almost anything.”

“Why didn’t you stop and get something after you landed?” Except for the fact that he didn’t have much to choose from, he didn’t mind feeding her. But with her determination to avoid public places, what would she have eaten if she’d stayed at his rental tonight? There was nothing in those cupboards, other than some coffee he’d taken over as an afterthought. He’d been asked to provide furnishings, not food.

“I should have,” she admitted. “I was in a hurry. Since I’d never seen your house in person, I wasn’t convinced it would work for my retreat, and I wasn’t sure where I’d go if it didn’t. I felt I needed to reserve time for plan B, just in case.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” He found a spatula, but then he began to wonder if he should give her other options. Not everyone cared for dairy foods. “Would you rather have canned soup? I’ve got tomato or vegetable.”

“No. I’ll take the eggs.”

He pulled out a frying pan. “Good choice.”

The eggs popped and sizzled as he stood at the stove. While he waited to flip them, she moved over to his mantel to examine the framed pictures he had there. “Don’t tell me this is Simon O’Neal!”

He could understand why that might surprise her. Simon was one of the biggest movie stars in America. “Actually, it is,” he said. “A few years ago, Gail, one of my best friends, opened a PR agency in LA. She took Simon on as a client, and long story short, they fell in love. They’re married now and have three kids.”

“And you hang out with them?”

“They’re in LA most of the time, or on location, but we get together whenever they come to visit.”

She moved on to the other photographs. “All the rest of these people are...”

“Those are my parents, on the left. The kids you see are my niece and nephew.”

“Your sister’s children, the one who lives in Pennsylvania?”

“Since she remarried and moved there a few years ago, yes. For a while, she was living in one of my rentals.”

“And these other people?”

He glanced over. “My friends.”

“You have a lot of friends,” she said.

“I’m guessing you do, too.”

“New friends aren’t the same as old friends.”

Was she referring to the paradox of being famous and yet lonely? “Are you missing home?” He supposed that would explain why she’d come to the Sierra Nevada Foothills.

“I’m missing something,” she said.

He flipped the eggs. “And that is...”

She turned away from his pictures and came back to the table. “Nothing. Never mind.”

* * *

Lourdes enjoyed dinner. Kyle—they were now comfortably on a first-name basis—was down-to-earth and didn’t seem too affected by her celebrity. He wasn’t overly solicitous, just real. Somehow that put her at ease, made her feel at home when she’d been on edge for so long. Maybe, since he was used to socializing with someone far more famous than she was, he didn’t consider her to be any big deal.

Or maybe it was just that Kyle was so comfortable in his own skin. Had she ever met a man more self-assured? She’d seen plenty of arrogance in her line of work. And vanity. The vanity was worse than the arrogance. But Kyle was different. He seemed to be at peace with who and what he was, and she admired his quiet strength, even though she didn’t know him very well.

He was the calm at the center of the storm, she thought and felt a spark of creative excitement. That was it! Her first idea! She’d write a song about how one person could provide a safe harbor for others in the middle of life’s chaos and confusion.

The fact that she felt like writing anything lifted her spirits. This was the first time she’d experienced that desire since her last album...

“What are you smiling at?” Kyle asked.

She sobered. “Nothing. It just feels good to be full. And warm.”

“You can turn the thermostat up higher, if you like.” He raised one eyebrow. “But I might have to go sleep in the garage if you do.”

She laughed as she handed him her plate, since he was standing at the sink, and went back to finish clearing the table. “You’re safe. The temperature’s perfect in here.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“So...you’re single,” she said as she brought him their cups.

He seemed startled by the comment. “Yes.”

“An entrenched bachelor?”

“Not quite. I’m divorced.”

She hesitated before going back to get their orange juice glasses. “Do you have kids?”

“No. And considering what my ex-wife is like, that’s a blessing.”

She wanted to ask him more—how long ago he was married, how he met his wife, whether or not she still lived in town. Lourdes also wondered, but wouldn’t ask, why they hadn’t had children. But then her phone buzzed on the counter, where she’d put it earlier. She’d left Derrick several messages while she was at the airport and then when she’d arrived in Whiskey Creek, and he was getting back to her.

Finally...

“Excuse me,” she said, taking her phone into the spare room where Kyle had put her bag.

* * *

Kyle tried to ignore Lourdes’s voice. She was whispering, so she wouldn’t be overheard, but her whisper was so loud it actually drew more attention to her conversation.

He was about to turn on the television. Whatever she had to say to Derrick Meade—there was no doubt it was him, since she’d said his name a number of times—was none of his business. But then he heard tears in her voice and couldn’t help pausing to listen.

“You must’ve been with her...Then where were you all day? You had to know I was trying to reach you...You always have your phone with you. You’d have it surgically implanted into your ear if you could...That’s what you constantly tell me, but that’s not what I’m feeling...Then why continue to put off the wedding? Before you met Crystal, you were in such a hurry...So it’s what’s happened to my career that’s made you back off? If I’m not the hottest singer in Nashville, you’re no longer interested?...I get that, but what else am I supposed to think?...So are you coming here or not?...Never mind. Go ahead and do whatever you have to do for Crystal...No, I’m not! You’re the one who’s acting weird...Forget it. I’ve got a lot to do, too. I’m fine here without you.”

The sudden silence led Kyle to believe she’d hung up. He also guessed she was crying. It sounded like it.

Should he knock on the door and attempt to console her? He’d always been someone who tried to fix whatever was broken, and that included the people in his life. But he couldn’t imagine something that intrusive going over very well for either one of them. They’d barely met.

Assuming she’d prefer her privacy, he put on Thursday night football. Hopefully, that would distract him and give her enough background noise to hide her sniffles.

But it was only fifteen minutes later that the door slammed against the inside wall and she charged out of the bedroom. “Kyle?”

He lowered the volume and looked over at her. Her red, swollen eyes left little doubt that there’d been tears. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She wiped her cheeks. “Not really, but I haven’t been okay in a while.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s my problem, and I’ll take care of it, but I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.”

He took his feet off the coffee table and sat up. “What kind of favor?”

“It’s sort of an odd request.”

This made him leery. Noelle always approached him with one odd request or another. “I’m listening.”

“I was hoping you’d call my manager and ask for Crystal Holtree.”

“Who’s Crystal Holtree?”

“If you don’t know yet, you will within the next year. She’s another singer—Nashville’s new darling. Derrick manages her career, too.”

“And you want to see if he’s managing a bit more than that.”

Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Are you sure you should check up on him like this?”

“My heart is telling me he’d never be unfaithful, but my head is telling me something else. I’m going crazy, becoming so insecure. I have to know if it’s him—or me.”

He rubbed his chin as he thought about her request.

“It’s just one phone call,” she said.

“But he knows who I am.”

“Okay, it’s one phone call and you’ll have to claim to be someone else.”

“Like...”

She spread out her hands. “Robin Graham.”

“Who’s Robin Graham?”

“No one. I made up the name. You could say you’re Robin Graham with Country Weekly or CMT and you’d like to interview Crystal. That’s all you’d have to do. He wouldn’t want her to miss that call. If she’s with him, he’ll hand over the phone, and if he hands over the phone, he’s been lying to me.”

“But he has my cell number in his contacts. I put it in the rental ad.”

“You don’t have another phone?”

“Not here at home. I guess I could block my number...”

She nibbled uncertainly on her lower lip. “No, a blocked number wouldn’t be believable.”

“Then we’d have to go over to the office. I have an extra line that wouldn’t give the name of my company on caller ID.”

She appeared more hopeful. “Would you mind?”

It wasn’t really his place to get involved. Also, it was snowing pretty hard. He could hear the wind railing against the house. But he had a four-wheel drive, they wouldn’t have far to go and the storm didn’t seem to be nearly as bad as forecasted, certainly no worse than several they’d had in recent years.

Besides, he could feel her uncertainty. Maybe Derrick Meade wasn’t cheating. Maybe they could relieve her anxiety so she could focus on writing those songs she’d mentioned. She seemed to be down on her luck, but not in the same way Noelle always was. Lourdes had seen a lot of success. She might be someone for whom a little help would make a big difference. “I wouldn’t mind, but—” he checked his watch “—it’s nearly nine in Nashville. Won’t it seem strange to get a business call that late?”

“Not from a harried reporter trying to hit a deadline.”

“Okay,” he said. “Come on.”

4

After Kyle waved her into the seat across from his desk and picked up the phone, Lourdes could only wring her hands. Was she about to find out if all the anxiety and concern she’d been feeling had a basis in reality?

“What’s his number?” he asked.

He could look it up on his cell, but there was no need when she knew it by heart.

She rattled off the digits as she shook snow off her coat. Then she held her breath as he dialed. On the drive over, she’d educated him so he’d sound like a believable country magazine reporter, but she had no idea how he’d handle himself once he had Derrick on the phone.

“Hello?”

Derrick must’ve answered! Lourdes felt her stomach twist into knots.

Clearing his throat, Kyle stood. “Mr. Meade? This is Graham...Gibb with Country Weekly.” He threw her a quizzical look that told her he’d gapped on the name she’d given him and had to improvise. Fortunately, he’d remembered the magazine correctly. That would’ve been a lot tougher to fake, since Derrick knew all the magazines that mattered in their industry. “I understand you manage Crystal Holtree...Yes, I’ve heard that song. It’s amazing. I apologize for calling so late, but I’m up against a deadline and was wondering if she might be available for a quick interview...Mmm-hmm...Right. What I’d originally planned for this issue fell apart, so I thought I’d change it up and write a piece on an emerging artist...Okay...Sure.”

He covered the phone. “He’s giving me her number,” he mouthed. “What should I do?”

“Hang up,” she whispered.

“Won’t he get suspicious?”

“He won’t guess it’s me. I’ve never done anything like this before.” She’d never felt she had to, not until Crystal entered their lives...

Flicking his wet hair out of his face, he removed his hand from the receiver. “Sorry for the interruption. My wife’s telling me that my editor’s been trying to reach me. She’s already backfilled the interview with someone else, so I apologize for the false alarm. I’ll keep Ms. Holtree in mind for future articles, though...Yes, I agree. She’s talented. I’ll see what I can do in the next few months.”

He hung up. Then he sank into his chair. “I’m not sure that was completely believable.”

Lourdes couldn’t be sure, either. She’d been straining the bounds of credulity when she’d had Kyle call so late. Crystal was generating sufficient interest that it wasn’t inconceivable, but it was Lourdes’s emotions that were driving her these days—not logic. That was why she’d had to pull away from Nashville. She needed to get her priorities straight, put recent setbacks in perspective. “You handled it well.”

“But we didn’t learn anything. Maybe she was there, and he’s just too smart to give himself away.”

“Did he even try to suggest me for the interview? Or for another one later?”

“No. He might’ve if we’d talked longer.”

“He would’ve a year ago, no matter what.”

Kyle drummed his fingers on the desk. “Maybe he couldn’t.”

“You think she’s there?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You sensed a hesitancy or something that makes you wonder.”

He grimaced as if he didn’t want to admit that, but she could tell it was true.

She dropped her head in her hand. “Shit.”

Before he could respond, the office phone rang.

He glanced over at her. “It’s the Ooma line I just used, and I shouldn’t be getting any calls this time of night.”

Her heart began to pound. “What happens if you don’t answer?”

“It rolls over to the regular lines and eventually goes to voice mail for First Step Solar.”

“Grab it,” she cried, but he must’ve come to the same conclusion, because he was already reaching for the handset.

“Graham Gibb.”

Lourdes held her breath. If Kyle’s caller happened to be looking for solar panels, he or she would be quite confused. But, in the next second, it became apparent that Derrick was calling back, just as they’d feared.

“Great,” Kyle said. “That’s convenient...” He squeezed his forehead with one hand as if he regretted getting mixed up in her little ruse—or was worried about the fallout. “Of course I’d like to speak to her...Sure...Put her on...”

Derrick must’ve transferred the phone to Crystal, because, for the next several minutes, Lourdes had to sit there and listen to Kyle feign interest in Crystal’s burgeoning music career. When he could do so without seeming too dismissive, he cut in to say he had to go if he was going to finish his article tonight, that it had been a pleasure speaking to her and he’d get back to her if he ever had the opportunity to give her some press.

When he hung up, he rubbed a hand over his mouth. “So what do you make of that?”

“She called back awfully fast.”

“Derrick said she just stopped by to drop something off after we hung up.”

Lourdes felt sick to her stomach. She wished she could believe it was the coincidence Derrick claimed, but her intuition wouldn’t allow it. “What could Crystal need to drop off that she couldn’t email?”

Kyle shook his head.

“What did she say?” Lourdes asked.

“That she wanted to reach out and let me know she’d be happy to speak to me whenever. We could even have lunch. That sort of thing.”

“Was it convincing?”

He didn’t seem too keen on committing himself.

“Kyle? Did you get the impression Derrick was pretending she’d suddenly shown up?”

“That’s a tough question,” he hedged.

She blew on her hands, which hadn’t warmed up since their journey through the storm. “Because you think they’re having an affair.”

“Because I don’t really know!”

“God, I hate this,” she said. “I hate feeling as if I’m being taken for a fool. And I hate feeling I can’t trust the man I love.”

“Has he ever cheated on you before?”

“Not that I know of. But he’s never been so preoccupied and distant, either. Never been so swept away with someone else.” He also had a history that included an extramarital affair with an intern, well before he met her, but Lourdes didn’t volunteer that information. She’d chosen to believe he’d just messed up, that he regretted it—but she understood that others might not give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was merely enamored with Crystal’s potential, as he claimed. “It doesn’t help that she’s younger, prettier and more talented than I am,” she grumbled.

Kyle looked shocked. “She might be younger, and I’m no judge of singing talent, so I can’t weigh in there. But she couldn’t be any more beautiful.”

It was a nice compliment. One that sounded sincere.

Maybe if Lourdes hadn’t been so distraught, she could’ve appreciated it.

* * *

Kyle stared at the ceiling for at least an hour after he went to bed. He felt bad for Lourdes. Clearly, she was stumbling through that unique hell reserved for partners of the unfaithful. Can he change? Will he change? Should I give him the opportunity to change? Does he really love me—or does he love her? Kyle had discussed those questions with her at great length over the past three hours. While the snow continued to fall outside, they’d shared a bottle of pinot noir and Lourdes had told him that even though coming to Whiskey Creek had been her idea—she’d seen it as a way to withdraw from public life so she could “reset”—Derrick had promised to come with her. He’d said they’d use whatever time she didn’t spend writing to rebuild their relationship, since they’d been having so much difficulty getting along. So even if Derrick hadn’t been lying about Crystal tonight, he’d put Lourdes off and that led Kyle to believe he probably was too caught up with his new client. Hearing from Crystal so soon after calling Derrick was certainly suspect, despite Derrick’s explanation—since that explanation was flimsy at best.

Lourdes seemed like a nice person who didn’t deserve the turmoil she was going through. But whether or not Derrick was cheating wasn’t the only thing on Kyle’s mind. Discussing her problems had forced him to face that his own life needed an overhaul. The woman he loved—had always loved—was married to his stepbrother, which created an awkward challenge whenever he saw them (and he saw them often). To make matters worse, he had an ex-wife who wouldn’t let go, who claimed she still loved him, even though, from what he remembered, she’d hated being married as much as he had. And almost all his friends were not only in committed relationships but having children, too. They’d moved on and he hadn’t. He felt lonely and shiftless whenever he wasn’t completely immersed in his work. So he worked longer and longer hours, which made it even harder to meet someone.

He was approaching forty. If he was going to marry and have kids, he needed to do it soon. But he hadn’t met a woman who could replace Olivia—and he was beginning to fear he never would.

His phone buzzed. Leaning up on one elbow, he squinted to see who’d texted him. It was Riley Stinson, the most recent of his close friends to find a mate.

You still up?

Kyle had missed a call from Riley earlier. He hadn’t gotten back to him, so although he was exhausted, he shoved himself into a sitting position.

I am. Sorry I missed your call today. Got a tenant for the farmhouse. Been handling that. What’s up?

Kyle wasn’t sure why he’d asked what was up. He knew what was up with Riley. After months spent trying to atone for their difficult history, Riley had finally talked Phoenix Fuller into marrying him. They’d set the date for December 30 and were planning a big wedding. It was all Riley could talk about. And, if Kyle was being honest, that made him a lot less eager to take Riley’s calls. Now that Riley was settling down, Kyle would be the only single member of their group, except for Baxter—and, as Noelle had pointed out, his relationship with Baxter wouldn’t be very conducive to meeting women.

Instead of texting back, Riley called. “Hey, you rented the farmhouse, huh?”

Kyle could hear the wind buffeting the trees against the house, but the worst of the storm seemed to be over. “I did,” he said as he dropped onto his pillows.

“To who?”

The words “Someone from Nashville” were on the tip of his tongue. That was what he planned to tell most people. But Riley was one of his best friends. He could trust Riley with his life. “Lourdes Bennett.”

“Lourdes who?”

“Bennett. She’s a country-western singer—sings ‘Heartbreak’ and ‘Stone Cold Lover.’”

“That Lourdes Bennett? Are you kidding me?”

“No, but don’t tell anyone she’s in town. She’s trying to keep a low profile.”

“I won’t tell a soul. But if Lourdes wanted to move here, why wouldn’t she buy her own place? She’s got to have the money.”

“This is just a short-term thing, until she finishes writing the songs for her next album.”

“Don’t most major artists buy songs from songwriters?”

“I’m sure some do, but I guess she prefers to come up with her own material.” He heard the toilet flush down the hall. Lourdes was still up—which didn’t surprise him. Derrick had called as they poured the last of that bottle of wine. She’d probably just finished talking to him. “Did you need something when you tried to reach me earlier?” he asked Riley.

“Mostly I wanted to check in, see what you’ve been up to. Seems like we’ve both been so busy with work we hardly talk anymore.”

It wasn’t because of work. It was because Riley’s private life was doing what it should and Kyle’s wasn’t. But he didn’t comment on that. No one enjoyed hearing other people complain about something they couldn’t have. “We’ll see each other tomorrow morning at Black Gold, won’t we?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. So will Phoenix. But besides checking in, I was hoping to talk to you about the wedding.”

The wedding. Of course. Olivia was planning it, so Kyle heard about it even from her. “You’re down to what...four weeks? That’s crazy.”

“It’s coming up fast, which is why I’m in sort of a hurry.”

“To...”

“I was wondering if you’d marry us.”

Kyle nearly dropped his phone. Riley’s teenage son would be best man. He hadn’t expected to do anything other than standing in Riley’s line, along with the rest of the guys in their group of friends. “You mean...perform the ceremony?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Doesn’t that require a preacher?”

“Apparently not. I was remodeling a kitchen the other day when the guy who hired me said he’d performed his daughter’s wedding. He told me all he had to do was sign up online.”

“Where?”

“I’m sure it’ll come up if you look for it on Google. If you can’t find it, give me a call and I’ll ask him.”

“And Phoenix...she’s okay with having me play that role?”

“You know how Phoenix feels about you. She was thrilled when I suggested it.”

“But your parents will expect you to use their minister, won’t they?”

“This isn’t their wedding. I plan to make sure it’s everything Phoenix wants.”

Kyle smiled even though Riley couldn’t see it. “You really love that girl,” he said, and he could understand why. He’d taken a special liking to Phoenix, too—wished he’d written to her while she was in prison so he could’ve offered some emotional support. What she’d been through was terrible—to be convicted of something she didn’t do. Yet she’d stood tall and weathered those tough years completely on her own.

“She’s the one for me,” Riley said. “I can’t explain why she’s different from all the other women I’ve dated, but she is.”

“I’m happy for you.” He seemed to be saying that a lot lately. He was happy for Brandon and Olivia and their perfect marriage. He was happy for Riley and Phoenix, happy that they were finally getting together—something that would’ve happened years ago if life was fair. He was happy for Callie and Levi, too, who were expecting their first baby, and Eve and Lincoln, who’d had their first child a few months ago. Everyone had something to celebrate.

If Noelle could find another love interest, maybe he’d have something to celebrate...

“So you’ll do it?” Riley asked.

He tried to imagine standing at the altar with Riley and Phoenix and felt ill equipped, but how could he say no to one of his best friends? “I can honestly say that performing a marriage is something I never pictured myself doing. But sure. Thanks for asking me.”

“Glad you’re willing. And you have my promise that I’ll do anything you ask me to when you get married.”

“Are you expecting that to happen soon?” he joked.

“You never know, man. You could be married right now if you weren’t so damn picky.”

His father told him basically the same thing. But in his mind, he wasn’t being picky, he was being careful. He’d rather be a confirmed bachelor for the rest of his life than make another mistake. The last one had been a pain in his ass for six years.

He thought of Noelle calling about her water heater, and the money for her boob job and for her utility bill. She was still a pain in his ass. He should never have married her—but he had the sneaking suspicion that if he hadn’t, she would’ve gone ahead and had the baby, forging an even stronger bond. His mistake had been letting her seduce him in the first place. It all went back to one drunken, foolish night when she’d claimed to be on the pill...

“I’m fine the way I am,” he insisted.

“Noelle put the fear of God into you. And I can see why. She’s freakin’ psycho. We knew she was trouble before you married her, and if she hadn’t been pregnant, you wouldn’t have done it. Nothing like that will happen again.”

Anything could happen. That was why he was being more vigilant. “I was an idiot to let her trap me.”

“She’s an extreme example. Forget about her.”

If only he could. If only she’d allow it...

“What about the girl you brought to Ted’s Halloween party this year—Danni Decker?” Riley asked. “She seemed cool.”

“For one thing, she lives in the Bay Area. For another, she has a high-powered investment job.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“We’re too similar. She’d never give up her job to move here. And I wouldn’t move there. So why would I pursue a relationship with her, when it’s bound to end with both of us miserable? Besides, she doesn’t want children, and that’s a deal breaker for me.”

“You’re looking for a homemaker?”

“Not necessarily a homemaker—but a woman who’s willing to be a mother. Most of all, I want someone who’s satisfied with who I am, what I do and where I live.” No way was he ever going to be happy with a wife who constantly nagged him to leave Whiskey Creek. He’d already been down that road.

“I guess that’s not asking too much, but...you’ve got to get over Olivia first, Kyle.”

This was the second time in a day that someone had called him on his true feelings for Olivia. But Noelle taunted him whenever she could. Ironically, she claimed it was his feelings for Olivia that had broken up their marriage, but she’d known he had feelings for Olivia when she approached him at the bar. He’d dated Olivia for two years before she put their relationship on pause and moved to Sacramento to pursue her wedding planning business.

“I’ve been over Olivia for ages,” he said, but he’d been claiming that ever since she’d married Brandon.

Riley didn’t respond.

“You still there?” Kyle asked.

“I am. I’m just... Never mind.”

Riley was skeptical. He knew nothing had changed, but Kyle couldn’t admit that, not without doing his brother a disservice. He wanted to be over Olivia; he just wished he could get his damn heart to cooperate. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I don’t need a woman.”

“I still wish you could find someone. Marriage doesn’t have to be what you had with Noelle.”

Problem was...he had yet to meet any viable alternatives. Most of the women his age were already in relationships, like Olivia and even Lourdes. Or they were entrenched in a career somewhere else. Or there wasn’t any spark.

“Who would’ve thought Phoenix and I would wind up together?” Riley said. “You’ll find someone—the person you’re meant to be with.”

Not as long as the woman he was meant to be with was married to his stepbrother. “Like I said, it’s fine even if I don’t.”

“I’m exhausted. I’ve got to go. I’ll tell Phoenix and Olivia you’ll perform the ceremony. They’ll both be glad to hear it.”

“I’ll do the research tomorrow, right after coffee at Black Gold.”

“Sounds good. I appreciate it.”

Kyle started to hang up, but Riley stopped him. “Kyle?”

“Yeah?”

“Before I go, can I ask you something?”

He sighed. “Does it have to do with Olivia? Because I’m pretty much done with that subject.”

“I just want to know why you invited her and Brandon to join us for coffee. I’ve always wondered. I think everyone has.”

“What can I say? He’s my brother.” There was no escape. And it was his fault things were the way they were. Why shouldn’t Brandon be included? He’d done nothing wrong.

“It can’t be easy to see them so often.”

“Noelle’s the one who makes my life hard,” he joked, hoping to lighten up the conversation.

“Is she still pushing to get back together?”

Kyle thought of her offer to provide him with sex and grimaced. “She still calls me far too often.”

“Maybe she’ll move. She’s been talking about going to New York or some other big city for years.”

“Sometimes I’m tempted to give her the money so we can both be happy. I’m thinking London would be nice.”

Riley chuckled. “Except she’d only come back as soon as her pockets were empty.”

“That’s why I don’t actually do it,” he said. “Have a great night.”

“See you in the morning.”

Kyle disconnected, plugged his phone in to charge and tried, once again, to get some sleep. But he could hear muffled sounds that led him to believe Lourdes was in another heated conversation with Derrick. He didn’t envy her the upset or the arguments—or the doubt and suspicion that were eating her up.

Obviously, love didn’t work for everyone.

Maybe he really was better off alone...

5

“Oh, my gosh! You have Lourdes Bennett staying at the farmhouse?”

Kyle blinked in surprise. He’d just walked into Black Gold Coffee to meet his friends, twelve of whom were crowded around their usual tables in the back corner, when he was confronted by this question. It’d come from Callie Vanetta-Pendleton, the woman he’d suggested Lourdes stay with, but he didn’t look at Callie. He shifted his gaze to Riley. “You told them? What happened to ‘don’t tell anyone—she’s trying to keep a low profile’? And ‘this is Riley, the friend I can trust with my life’?”

Riley flinched. “I don’t recall that bit about trusting me with your life.”

Dylan and Cheyenne were there with their one-year-old. So were Addy and Noah and their little girl, Emily, who was slightly older than Dylan and Chey’s boy. Eve had shown up without her husband and baby, since she ran the B and B her parents owned in town, even though they now lived in Placerville. Ted and Sophia, Callie’s husband, Levi, Riley and his fiancée, Phoenix, rounded out the group—along with Brandon and Olivia, of course. As always, Kyle was hyperaware of their presence, as well as whether or not he’d be sitting close to them. He figured, since he couldn’t put Olivia behind him, he’d be conscious of details like that forever. “Maybe not, but that’s what I was thinking.”

A sheepish expression appeared on Riley’s face. “Sorry ’bout that. But if it’d been something important, something more than an interesting development that didn’t affect you much either way, I wouldn’t have breathed a word. And these guys are the only ones I’ve told. You can trust them as much as you can trust me, right?”

“Now I’m hoping I can trust them more!” Taking great care not to focus on Olivia, Kyle pulled out a chair and slid it to the left so that once he sat down, their knees wouldn’t touch.

Callie had gone silent the moment she realized she’d gotten Riley in trouble. But at this, she leaned forward. “Your secret is safe with me, with all of us. I’m just excited. I’m a huge fan of Lourdes Bennett’s. Do you suppose she’ll ever come into town? Maybe I can arrange to bump into her.”

“I’m sure she’ll have to buy groceries at some point,” he told her. “But she really wants to go unnoticed, Callie, so be careful about approaching her.”

“Why is she here?”

It was Olivia who’d asked this question, so he had to look at her, but he did his best to seem impassive. With her wide blue eyes and honey-blond hair, he still found her one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen. “She’s sort of having a difficult time. I don’t think she’d want me to say much more than that.”

“Wow. Sounds like she’s already told you what’s going on—and you’re protective of her,” Brandon said.

Kyle scowled. “I’m just trying to give her the space and privacy she requested.”

“Is she here by herself?” Callie asked.

Grateful for the distraction, he moved his attention away from Brandon and Olivia as he nodded.

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “Don’t tell me she and Derrick have broken up.”

“You know her boyfriend’s name?” Kyle said. “You really are a fan.”

Callie pressed a hand to her swollen stomach. He got the impression her baby was moving, but she didn’t say so. She was too caught up in his news. “Anyone who follows her on Twitter knows Derrick’s name. For a while there, they were talking about getting married. She even posted a few pictures of various engagement rings she liked. But he hasn’t given her one yet—not that she’s revealed, anyway. What’s going on?”

Kyle shrugged. “Every relationship has its ups and downs.”

Eve frowned at him. “Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

“I’m trying to be discreet.”

“With us?” Callie acted wounded.

He sighed. “They’re having some problems, okay? Just like you’ve guessed.”

“Is that why she came here?” Callie asked. “To get away from him?”

Shit. He’d already said too much. “No. She’s here on business, to write her next album. She needs peace and quiet. So...let’s all keep our mouths shut.”

Callie shifted again. She was obviously at the uncomfortable stage of pregnancy. “Is this a country album?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because her last one wasn’t, and it didn’t do very well.” Cheyenne lifted her chubby baby from his carrier. “As far as I’m concerned, it was too much of a departure from what made her famous.”

“I haven’t heard it,” Kyle said, and several others, mostly the guys, said the same.

“It was more...pop,” Cheyenne explained as Dylan helped her ready a bottle.

“I didn’t like it as much as her other work, either,” Addy agreed. “And I love pop music. Lourdes Bennett is just more...authentic as a country artist, if that makes sense.”

“You listen to her, too?” Kyle asked.

“Don’t you?” she replied.

“I’ve heard a few of her songs on the radio, but it’s not like I’ve ever downloaded them onto my iPod.”

Addy wadded up a napkin and dropped it on her empty side plate. “Is she as pretty in person as she is in her pictures?”

“I think so.” That was the truth, but Kyle said it nonchalantly so he wouldn’t give away how strong his feelings actually were on that subject. Then, eager to avoid all the attention he was receiving, he checked the order line at the register. It had been winding out the door when he arrived. He still needed to get his coffee and a muffin but had been trying to outwait the rush.

“She must really be something.” The tone of Addy’s voice said she wasn’t fooled. “And she’s staying at the farmhouse? That’s very close to your place.”

“I suggest you see if she needs dinner out occasionally,” Noah chimed in, catching on to the implication.

“Or, better yet, you might want to bring dinner in,” Dylan joked.

The line hadn’t shortened. If anything, it’d gotten longer, and Kyle wasn’t willing to wait, not when he could have Morgan bring him a cup of coffee once he started work. “Why hold off until dinner? She’s at my house right now, not the farmhouse. I could bring her breakfast.” He knew better than to get them excited but couldn’t resist having a little fun.

Eve put her coffee down so fast it sloshed over the side. “So she did break up with her boyfriend.”

“No.”

“Then what’s she doing at your house?” Riley asked.

“She was sleeping when I left,” he replied, pushing the joke a bit further.

“Holy shit!” Brandon exclaimed. “You spent the night with Lourdes Bennett?”

“Kyle, you should be more careful!” Eve warned. “You don’t want an angry boyfriend to come calling.”

Having provoked the reaction he’d been looking for, Kyle lifted a hand. “I’m just messing with you guys.”

Brandon did a double take. “So she’s not at your house?”

“She is, but strictly for practical reasons. We couldn’t get the heat to come on in the farmhouse yesterday, and I didn’t want her to freeze to death. So I let her stay in one of my spare bedrooms.”

“She agreed to that?” Noah asked. “She went home with you?”

He shrugged. “I offered to get her a room at Eve’s B and B but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“What’s wrong with my B and B?” Eve demanded. “It’s the best in town—no matter what A Room With A View has done to steal my business.”

“It had nothing to do with your B and B,” Kyle said. “She wouldn’t go to A Room With A View, either. She doesn’t want to be seen in public, needs a break from all that, like I told you.”

Brandon clapped him on the back. “Lucky you. She’s rich and famous. I say you help her forget this Derrick dude. Sweep her off her feet.”

Of course Brandon would say that. He had to be tired of trying to ignore the fact that his brother was in love with his wife.

Ted Dixon, a bestselling novelist who took a more measured approach to everything, moved the sugar packets closer to Levi. “Do you like her?”

“I do. Surprisingly, she’s as nice as she is pretty.” Kyle couldn’t help wondering if Olivia cared that he was admiring another woman. He was ashamed for even having that thought; it was the kind of thing that had made him start avoiding family events. He’d once believed that, with time, he’d get over her, and all the weirdness would go away. But after six years, the feelings themselves hadn’t gone anywhere. He just felt worse for having them.

Dylan dusted the crumbs of his muffin from his hands. “Then I’d say she’s fair game.”

Kyle waved them off. “She’s only staying in town for a few months. And I’m sure she’ll stick with Derrick in the end. He’s perfect for her.”

“In what way?” Eve asked. “You haven’t met him, too, have you?”

“No, but he works with her, understands the music business, supports her career, doesn’t mind the travel. I want...something else.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles, hoping he’d said enough to put an end to the subject. “Don’t we have some things to go over for the wedding?” He grinned at Riley. “Like who’ll be performing the ceremony?”

“Riley said you’re doing it,” Brandon replied, and, fortunately, the conversation moved on from there. They discussed other aspects of the wedding, how to make the most of the “winter wonderland” theme, how they’d all help set up and when they should schedule the bachelor and bachelorette parties. Once they’d hammered out those details, Noah said he’d heard that Baxter would be moving back before Christmas for sure, so they used Noah’s phone to call him and put him on speaker. He told them his last day of work was supposed to be the fifteenth, but even if he didn’t get moved right away, he could easily make the bachelor party on the twenty-third—good news.

Fortunately, no one mentioned to Baxter that Lourdes Bennett was in town, so Kyle didn’t have to swear yet another person to secrecy.

As soon as they hung up, he stood.

“You getting your muffin?” Brandon jerked his head toward the cash register to signify that the line was shorter.

“Yeah,” Kyle said, “but I’m getting it to go. I’ve got a lot to do.”

Brandon’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re leaving already?”

“Busy day ahead. I have to get the guy who installed the HVAC system in the farmhouse to fix it before the weekend.”

“Why rush to have it repaired?” Riley gave him a meaningful grin. “If you like having Lourdes Bennett at your place, you could always have the HVAC guy come on Monday.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “She’s not my type.”

“What do you mean, she’s not your type?” Ted asked. “You said you like her.”

“She’s probably only twenty-eight or twenty-nine, so I’ve got a few years on her. And I wouldn’t want her kind of life,” he explained.

“Maybe she’ll retire,” Eve said.

Kyle scowled at her. “Are you kidding? She’s had a good taste of fame. It’s in her blood.”

“I can understand why you’d hesitate,” Dylan said. “I wouldn’t want to be with someone who’s in the public eye. Gail and Simon handle it well, but I’m too private. I like being in my own space and not having to travel all the time. And I’d hate it if Cheyenne was always gone.”

“I wouldn’t like it if Phoenix was gone a lot, either,” Riley admitted.

Eve pushed her coffee cup away. “It takes a special kind of person to handle the challenges that come with having your spouse in such demand. You have to be able to share him or her.”

“Not an easy thing,” Sophia said.

“Then I’m glad we all agree.” But whether they agreed or not, after Noelle, Kyle understood his limitations.

He checked his watch. “Great to see everyone. I’d better roll.”

“Thanks for giving Noelle that water heater.” Olivia spoke before he could walk away. “That was really nice of you.”

What Noelle had done to get him to marry her had driven a wedge between her and Olivia for years. But last Christmas they’d made inroads toward rebuilding their relationship, and although it must have taken a great deal of patience, understanding and forgiveness on Olivia’s part (that was the case with anyone who had to put up with Noelle), they were acting more like sisters now than ever. Kyle was relieved there’d been progress in that area, at least.

“It was nothing,” he said, shrugging off her thanks. Although she claimed she’d forgiven him, and he’d been the one left hurting the longest, she had to be thinking he got what he deserved—having to put up with Noelle’s shit all the time.

“If you decide to have a Christmas party so we can all come over and meet Lourdes, let us know,” Callie joked.

“I don’t even have a tree,” he said.

Eve beamed up at him. “You’ve seen my B and B at Christmastime. I can fix that.”

“We’ll see if the opportunity arises.” He loved getting together with his friends on Friday. But ever since Brandon and Olivia had started joining them, that weekly ritual had become a form of torture. So the moment he stepped outside, he took a deep breath, as relieved to get on with his day as he’d been eager to come.

* * *

Lourdes was just getting out of the shower when Kyle returned. She hadn’t been able to fit everything she’d wanted to bring to California in her suitcase and didn’t have a robe with her, so he caught her in nothing but a towel as she walked down the hall to her room. His eyes swept over her, obviously taking note of her near nudity, but he didn’t make her feel threatened in any way, or even particularly self-conscious. He acted as if it wasn’t any big deal—as if they were roommates and seeing her like this was a common occurrence.

Lourdes didn’t know whether to be relieved that he respected appropriate boundaries, or disappointed that he didn’t seem compelled to push beyond them. It was a strange reaction on her part—evidence of the state of her self-esteem. Now that she was losing her grip on everything she’d once had, she wanted to be reassured that she still had the ability to attract a handsome man—especially one who didn’t care about her fame. There was something stimulating about that alone.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit that she was attracted to Kyle. She wasn’t sure how that could be possible when she was in love with someone else...

“Brought you some breakfast.” He held up a sack with a logo that said Black Gold Coffee. “I’ll put it on the counter for when you’re dressed.”

“That was nice of you.” Her eyes were red and swollen again. But she made no excuses, and he pretended not to notice. He understood what she was going through. He hadn’t told her much about his life when they were talking last night, but he had said he was in love with a woman he’d dated for two years—who was now married to his stepbrother. That had to involve some pain.

“No problem,” he said. “I have some bad news, though. So...when you’re ready, why don’t you come out and we can talk about it.”

“Just a sec.” She hurried into her room and pulled on the sweats she’d been wearing yesterday. She would’ve liked to dry her hair; it was dripping down her back. But she was too eager to hear Kyle’s bad news so that she could determine if she had a new crisis to worry about. These days she wouldn’t be surprised if someone had gone to repair the HVAC in her rental and discovered black mold, which would mean she’d have to find some other safe haven—without Derrick’s help.

She would’ve had time to make herself presentable, however. When she found Kyle in the kitchen, he was on a business call.

Instead of going back to dry her hair, she sat down. Besides coping with a great deal of anger, she was so busy vacillating between determination to overcome Derrick’s defection and the most debilitating discouragement she’d ever experienced that she didn’t have enough energy to obsess over her hair and clothes.

“What’s going on?” she asked as soon as he hung up.

He pushed the sack he’d brought home closer to her. “I bought the HVAC unit for the farmhouse from Owen’s Heating & Air. I called them not long after they opened this morning, but Owen was already on a big job in Stockton.”

“Stockton’s what...an hour away?”

“That’s about right. But he doubts he’ll get back before late this evening, and he’s taking his wife to Lake Tahoe for the weekend to celebrate her birthday.”

Relieved that this was only about getting the furnace fixed and not the house itself, she removed a cardboard cup of coffee from the bag, along with a cheese Danish, a bagel and a blueberry muffin. “Is this all for me?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure which one you’d like.”

“Unfortunately, I like them all.” She was sad enough to eat them all, too. If she wasn’t careful, she’d gain so much weight while she was here that she wouldn’t fit into any of the clothes she wore when she performed.

A little something extra to worry about...

“Did you hear what I said about Owen’s Heating & Air?” he asked.

“I did. You’re telling me I won’t have heat until Monday.”

“I’m sorry. I could call a few other companies, but even those places will probably tell me it’ll be the first of the week before they can get a tech out here. I figure if that’s the case, we might as well wait for Owen. He should guarantee his work.” He bent his head to peer into her face. “I hope you’re not too upset...”

She’d probably lost the man she’d expected to spend the rest of her life with and, unless she could come up with a Hail Mary pass, she was looking at the demise of her career. Waiting a couple of days to have heat in her rental seemed like a fairly minor problem by comparison. “I’m not.” She felt him watching her while she tried the coffee. “This is good.”

“Glad you like it. No one has better coffee than Black Gold. So...what do you want to do? Again, I’m happy to pay for a bed-and-breakfast. But you’re perfectly welcome to stay here until I get the furnace working.”

She didn’t care to go anywhere else, wasn’t convinced—in her current state—that she’d be able to summon a brave smile for the strangers she might encounter. Besides, the prospect of hanging out at Kyle’s place a bit longer didn’t sound unpleasant. He had a clean, comfortable house with plenty of room. And, considering her situation with Derrick, it might actually be helpful to have the right kind of company. She didn’t want to break down and call Derrick. Last night, during their final conversation, she’d told him not to contact her again unless he passed Crystal on to some other manager. She was afraid she’d be more prone to give in if she was staying on her own. “It’s only for the weekend,” she said. “As long as you can put up with me, I should be fine.”

He seemed surprised. “You’d rather stay here?”

She nodded. “Having someone to talk to last night... That helped,” she said. “But don’t worry. I won’t keep crying on your shoulder.”

“Did you have the chance to work things out with Derrick?”

“No. But I did what I felt I had to do.”

He didn’t ask, although she could tell he was wondering, so she said, “I’ve put everything on hold for now, until he decides how he feels about Crystal.”

“He admitted being involved with her?”

“No. He’d never admit that. I didn’t want to tell you earlier, but...he cheated on his wife when he was married. With an intern who works at one of the major record labels.”

“He was married?”

“Yes, but it didn’t last long.” She’d believed him when he’d told her how demanding his wife had been, how he’d been so frustrated and unhappy and how things had unintentionally gotten out of control when that intern had started flirting with him. Now she felt like an idiot. Was it a onetime mistake, as he’d said? Or was he a serial cheater, more to blame for his divorce than he’d ever taken responsibility for?

Kyle had indicated that his marriage hadn’t lasted long, either, but he made no mention of that now. “Was it the cheating that broke them up?”

“Who can really say what goes on in a marriage? I only have his side. I can tell you that his ex is still bitter about it, though.”

“So you know he’s had at least one extramarital affair.”

“Yes, and I don’t care how many times he swears he’s a changed man, something is going on. I can feel the difference in him. So unless he’s willing to let go of Crystal completely, I can’t stay with him.”

“I admire you for taking a stand.”

“If I was the one he wanted, he’d make it plain. There wouldn’t be all this suspicion and angst and heartbreak, right?”

Obviously recognizing the doubt that had crept into her voice, he gave her a kind smile. “I’m sorry.”

She felt a familiar lump rise in her throat but fought the tears that went with it. “You understand how it feels, don’t you? That it hurts like hell?”

“I do.”

“Great. We have heartbreak in common.” She laughed humorlessly. “Any chance you could bring home another bottle of wine when you get off work tonight?”

“I can manage that. But will you be okay here alone?”

Did he think she might hurt herself? She hoped not, but she could see why he’d wonder. He didn’t know her well enough to determine how she might react to what she was going through. “Of course. I’ve never been suicidal, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good. Because you have a lot to live for. Remember your new album? It’s going to shoot you into the stratosphere. So maybe you should get started on it.”

She frowned, implying that she wasn’t too sure she could tackle such a big challenge at the moment.

“Working might take your mind off...things. Provide an outlet,” he went on.

Her feelings were too raw to be able to concentrate. She’d checked her phone before getting in the shower. Derrick hadn’t tried to reach her. She’d thought, after the way they’d ended their conversation last night, he’d call first thing this morning to say he’d told Crystal she’d have to find another manager. It was two hours later in Nashville, almost eleven. He had to be up. And yet he hadn’t even texted her.

Were they really over? After three years and the hope that they’d soon be married?

It was almost inconceivable that so much could change so fast. How could he do this to her, on top of the huge helping of disappointment she’d been served in the past year? He knew what she was dealing with, and yet he didn’t seem to care. All he could talk about—when she overheard him talking to others—was how talented Crystal was. It felt as if the whole music industry had turned its attention to Crystal and forgotten about her.

“I’ll try,” she said, but as soon as Kyle left, she barely cast her guitar a glance before crawling back into bed.

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