“And remember the time in high school when Jason White dumped you for that slut Phoebe Garmon and you wrote all over the bathroom wall at Hannigan’s that he had a tiny little penis?”

Samara grinned at her friends Gia, Bailey and Liz, sitting with her around a small table in a trendy downtown eatery. They’d just finished dinner and a couple of bottles of wine amid a raft of reminiscence and a lot of laughter.

“He was so furious about that!”

“But it was hilarious! He deserved it.”

“So are you staying here permanently, then?” Gia posed the question to Samara, both hands clasped around the wineglass on the white tablecloth in front of her.

Samara didn’t know how to answer that question. The reality of her father being gone still hadn’t totally sunk in, and she’d been so busy fighting with Travis about who was going to run the company, it now hit her like a Pacific Ocean breaker that, if she was going to move back to Portland, her life had just completely changed.

“I guess I am.”

“That’s so great!” Liz lifted her glass of wine. “We’re so happy to have you back, Samara. Truly, this has been so much fun tonight.”

“You’re going to miss San Francisco,” Bailey said. “Portland’s nothing like that.”

“No,” Samara agreed slowly. “It’s different.”

“There must be so much to do there,” Liz said.

Samara smiled at her friends. There must be, she thought ruefully, but she’d never taken advantage of even a fraction of everything the city had to offer because she’d been so immersed in her school and then work. She hadn’t made any close friends, feeling emotionally numb and detached after she’d taken off from Portland, and had only dated sporadically, for the same reason. At least partly. The other part—Travis. There’d never been another man who’d attracted her or interested her in the same hot and hungry way Travis had.

“You’ll have to come to Pilates class with us,” Bailey said. “We go every Wednesday. It’s the most awesome workout.”

“Sure,” Samara said. “Sounds good.”

Bailey turned to Gia. “You know who you should introduce her to?”

Gia lifted a brow and shot an amused glance at Samara. “Who?”

“Brent’s brother.”

Samara opened her mouth to speak, but Liz beat her to it.

“Yes! He’d be perfect for her!”

“I don’t think so,” Samara began, turning her wine glass stem between her fingers.

“Why not? If you’re going to stay here—”

“Is he a funeral director too?” Samara asked.

“What’s wrong with being a funeral director?” Gia frowned.

“Nothing! Nothing at all. Just asking.”

“Well, he’s not. He’s an accountant.”

“Oooh. Exciting.”

Gia frowned again. “He’s a nice guy.”

Samara sat back in her chair and looked at the three faces of her friends, trying to do what they thought was a good deed, and her heart swelled with affection for them. Something she hadn’t felt for a long, long time. She smiled. “Thanks, you guys, but seriously, I’m going to be too busy to date for the next while. I have a ton of stuff to learn about the business. Travis gave me a whole whack of reports and financial data to go over, and....well, there are some problems at the company I need to figure out and try to come up with solutions.”

“Travis.” Gia gave Samara a look from beneath her lashes. “Travis Murray.”

“Yes.”

“He’s the guy you had—”

“Would you look at the time!” Samara tapped her watch and pushed her chair back. “I need to get home and start looking at some of that stuff. It’s been so nice to see you all again...”

“Sit.” Gia held up her hand.

Gia knew about the crush she’d had on Travis all those years ago, but even she didn’t know the truth about what had happened. Liz and Bailey knew nothing and were looking with wide-eyed glances from Gia to Samara and back again.

Samara subsided into her chair. “Gia...”

“Is he married?”

“No.”

“I thought he moved away too.”

“Yes. To Los Angeles. He’s back now too, to deal with things—”

“So you two will be working together?”

“Yes.” Samara saw the wheels turning in Gia’s head. “That was a long time ago, Gia.”

“What was?” Bailey leaned forward. “Who is this guy?”

Samara waited for Gia to spill it all, her tummy tight. She swallowed. “He’s my dad’s business partner,” she managed to say. She held Gia’s gaze and willed her to keep that embarrassing secret to herself.

Gia’s eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head. Oh-oh. If she’d wanted Gia to get that idea out of her head, she’d handled this all wrong. Now Gia knew there was more to it than just a teenage crush.

To Samara’s intense relief, Gia dropped the subject, but Samara knew it wasn’t dead and gone and she’d hear more about it from her friend.

As they all hugged goodbye on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, Samara’s chest grew warm and achy. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d missed having friends and missed the history she shared with these women, the laughter and tears and experiences that had bonded them together. She’d had nothing like that in San Francisco, just some casual work acquaintances, and only now did she realize how much she’d missed their friendship.

“Call me,” Gia whispered in her ear as they hugged. “If you want to talk, I’m here.”

Samara pulled back and gave her friend a hesitant smile. It had been so long since she’d shared personal things with a girlfriend. “I will,” she whispered back.

When she walked into the house a short while later, Travis was sitting on the couch in the den with his laptop on the coffee table in front of him. He wore a pair of cargo shorts and a snug short-sleeved T-shirt that hugged his well-muscled chest and arms, his blond hair sticking up in all directions as if he’d been running his hands through it.

He looked up at her. “Hi. Have fun with your friends?”

“Yes.” The warm relaxation she’d felt earlier disappeared, replaced with tingling tightness at seeing Travis. “It was great to catch up with them.”

“Good.” He smiled.

She paused. “I’m going upstairs now to do some work.”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost ten o’clock. You’re going to do work now?”

“Sure.” She didn’t want him to think she was slacking off the very first evening he’d shared the financials with her. “I have a lot to get caught up on.”

“It’s okay to take a night off and have fun,” he said, his voice gentle.

The softness of his tone annoyed her. He wasn’t her parent or guardian or anyone who could give her permission to take a night off. What she did with her time was up to her. In her head she knew her annoyance was unreasonable, especially since she’d just wanted to impress him with her work ethic.

Dinner with her girlfriends had helped take her mind off the anger she’d felt at how Travis for keeping information from her before having that meeting. And how he’d wanted to have the meeting anyway. Now it rushed back to her, and she frowned at him. “Sure,” she said. “It’s all right for me when you’re the one who knows all about the business and will use that to take over. You just don’t want me to succeed, do you?”

He rose to his feet, his height and width imposing even though he stood across the room from her. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his shorts, shoulders raised, and regarded her with narrowed eyes. “That is not what I intended,” he snapped. “I gave you what you wanted. We postponed the meeting so you can get up to speed. And still, you’re acting like a spoiled child.”

Her eyes flew open wide, and her lips parted. He’d called her spoiled once before! What the hell? “What! Spoiled?”

He gave a jerky nod and moved toward her. His jaw tight, mouth firm, he stared at her. “You are the most stubborn, ungrateful little brat I’ve ever met.”

He stood close enough that she could see the dark golden stubble on his chin, the tiny mole on his left cheekbone, and each strand of hair in his thick, dark blond eyebrows. Her body quivered with anger and frustration and—dammit—arousal. Her hands tightened even more, short nails biting into her palms.

“Christ only knows why I—” His mouth snapped closed on his words, and he glared at her, blue eyes dark and flashing.

Why he what?

Sparks whipped around them, sparkling and stinging.

“Grow up, Samara,” he bit out.

That was so not fair, except, once again she’d come across differently than she’d intended. In trying to hide her fear and worry about how the company was really doing, she’d once again come across as petulant and sulky.

“I am grown up.” The feelings racing through her were far from childish, and she knew it was so, so bad, but her body ached to feel him, and without conscious thought, she stepped forward. At the same time, he too took a step, yanked his hands out of his pockets and reached for her.

His hand fisted in her long hair and pulled her head back. Sharp sensations cascaded from her scalp down over her entire body. Then they were kissing, mouths devouring each other, hot and wet and wicked. She pressed herself against him, her aching breasts flattened to his hard chest, her pelvis to his, where she felt the hard bulge beneath his shorts. Everything inside her dissolved into hot liquid, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Tongues met, sliding, licking, tasting. She whimpered. He groaned. His hand slid across her back, pulling her closer, then lowered to the curve of her butt. Pleasure vibrated through her, fiery and electric.

She wanted to cry with frustration and confusion, cursing her body for wanting him even when she was trying so hard to be mad at him. “I don’t want this,” she moaned.