“You think you’re sending her away because you want her to have the things she needs, but, Stef, damn, you’re trying to make her grateful to you. Can’t you see this is the same thing? You think you can buy her a career and she’ll be happy and grateful, and she won’t leave you because you made it possible.” Max nodded sharply. “Rach is right. He’s a dumbass. Jen already loves him. No woman puts up with the shit he’s shoveled out if they aren’t in love.”

“He thinks she’s too young, but she isn’t. He thinks she wants some megapowerful career, but she doesn’t,” Rye said. “She wants to live here in Bliss and paint and have a happy life with the man she loves. You took me aside the day I finally got together with Rachel, and do you remember what you said to me?”

“I said she’s ready.” Stef felt his heart seize. What if she really was ready? What if he was just a dumbass who let his past hold him back? What if he chucked that past aside and went after what he wanted?

Rye and Max looked at each other, doing that weird twin thing they’d always done, as though, at times, they spoke to each other without saying a word. “She’s ready, Stef. Go get your girl,” they said in perfect harmony.

A blanket dropped over Stef’s soul, a warm, perfect feeling of complete certainty. She was his. He was hers. They didn’t have to follow anyone’s path but the one they set themselves. She wouldn’t leave. If she wanted to see the world, she would turn to him and tell him to show it to her. And he would. If she wanted to show in galleries, she would turn to him and ask him to help her. And he would.

He was her slave, and she would never leave him behind.

“I’ve got to find her.” Now that he’d made the decision, he couldn’t stand the thought of a moment going by without telling her.

Telling her? Hell, he’d probably have to beg her. Maybe if he offered to turn the trip to Paris into a honeymoon, just maybe, she wouldn’t attempt to cut off his balls with a rusty knife.

“She was with Rachel and Callie. They were heading to the diner,” Rye said.

Nope. She was with Rachel. She would definitely try to cut his balls off. He smiled at the thought. Jen was a lot like Rachel, brave and unwilling to take a bunch of crap from anyone. Except him. She’d taken his crap for a while now, and he swore he’d never give it to her again. He had other things he wanted to give.

The phone in his pocket rang. Stef reached in and pulled it out, hoping it was Jen. It wasn’t. He slid the bar to answer the phone anyway, stepping away from Max and Rye. He wouldn’t ignore this call.

“Finn, what’s up? Have you managed to get the charges dropped?” Stef wanted the answer to be yes. Before this moment, he’d been willing to let justice move slowly. Jen couldn’t start her new life until the charges against her were cleared. Now that her new life would be with him, Stef wanted that cloud out of the way. He was doing it again. He was trying to give her what she wanted, what she needed, so she would be grateful. He wasn’t going to change. He would always move heaven and earth to get her what she wanted. But from now on, he would make damn sure it really was what she wanted. “Give me some good news, man.”

“The charges are dropped.” Finn’s voice came over the phone loud and clear. “The DA filed the papers this morning. As of 8:00

a.m., your girl is free and clear.”

Stef clenched his fist in victory. Now nothing loomed over them.

They were both free and clear. “Finn, you’ve done an excellent job.

Please let your Master know just how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’ll talk to my father about transferring some of Talbot Industries’ legal work your way. We’re always getting sued for something.”

Finn laughed over the phone. “Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Talbot, I would love the work, but I didn’t really have much of a hand in this.

The police found the painting.”

“What do you mean they found the painting?” Stef stopped, his feet halting as though a wall had been thrown up in front of him. The painting was supposed to be here. Why had those Russians come to Bliss and taken Jen if they weren’t looking for the painting? “The police found the Picasso?”

“Yes, it was hidden in a vault at the gallery. I have no idea what kind of games Renard was playing, but they go deep. The police have connected him to the mob, believe it or not.” A cold feeling stole over Stef that had nothing to do with the temperature. “The Russian mob.”

“Yes, apparently Renard did odd jobs for them. The Russians have started to make a fortune selling masterpieces lost during World War II. They turn up now, and the mob is selling them on the black market for extravagant sums. Apparently Renard served as a go-between. Guess he screwed up somewhere.” Finn sounded very confident, even as Stef felt his stomach doing a triple loop dive straight to his feet. “And tell Jennifer that while going through Renard’s records, we found an order for one of her paintings. Renard was holding it for a buyer. It looks like she’s doing well. Twenty-five-thousand dollars is a lot for a new artist. Maybe she can still talk to the buyer, now that she’s out of this mess.” But she wasn’t. Oh, she wasn’t even close to being out of it. She was right in the middle, and she didn’t even know why or what they were really coming after her for, though Stef had a horrible idea.

Without pausing to say good-bye to Max and Rye, Stef took off running for the diner. He had to find her and find that painting.

* * *

Jen sniffled and dragged great breaths of air into her lungs as she sat in a booth at the diner.

“Asshole.” Rachel slapped at the table in a much-appreciated show of female solidarity. Rachel had shown up at Callie’s cabin just as Jen and Callie had gotten back from Stef’s. The women had commiserated with Jen before Rachel announced she needed breakfast.

“He’s my best friend, but I’m going with you on this one, Rach.

Asshole.” Callie’s sweet voice always sounded odd when she cursed.

“Fucking asshole.” Zane’s did not. Zane sounded perfectly comfortable calling Stef all sorts of vulgar names. His huge frame dominated the booth at Stella’s.

Jen felt stupid. She was crying in the middle of a diner. She’d managed to hold on to her self-esteem for a little while. She’d gotten to Callie’s. She’d moved her pitiful belongings into the loft, climbing up the ladder into Callie’s childhood room. There was a cot on the floor and a small dresser. She’d sat on the cot and stared out at the mountain knowing Stef was sitting in his place. Jen had sat there for an hour wondering if he even noticed she was gone.

Why did she have to love an idiot?

“It’s not working,” Zane whispered to his wife. “You said it would work. I think she’s still broken.”

“I am not broken.” Jen frowned at Zane. He sat looking so manly and hunky hot. Now he was madly in love with his wife, but he and Nate had put Callie through the ringer, too. It was just what men did.

“And you’re an asshole, too.”

Zane’s handsome face lit with surprise. He stared at Jen openmouthed before turning back to his wife. “Why am I an asshole?

I drove you to pick her up. I cleaned out the loft so she would have a place to not be homeless in.”

Jen sniffed, a nasty feeling in her gut. She didn’t particularly want to have anything to do with men right now. It didn’t matter how nice he’d been to her. “Do you have a penis?”

“Last time I checked,” Zane replied.

“Then you’re an asshole.” She couldn’t help it. She picked up her napkin as a little sob escaped. God, she ached. It was a real physical pain.

“I told you.” Rachel’s hand came out, patting Jen’s back. “Let it out, sweetie. Don’t hold back just because one of them is around.”

“One of them?” Zane asked, obviously confused at his persona-non-grata status.

Callie sighed. “Yes, baby. You have a penis. That makes you the enemy right now. Jen just broke up with the love of her life. Do you really think she wants to be comforted by you?”

“Max heard Jen had broken up with Stef. Did you see how he treated her? He tipped his hat and ran the other way,” Rachel explained as she wolfed down her pancakes. “Rye wouldn’t even get out of the truck until she’d walked on by.”

“I couldn’t leave Callie,” Zane explained. “I haven’t trained an overgrown dog to follow her around.”

Q’s head came up over the table. His tongue came out as he looked at Rachel’s plate. She patted his head to settle him back down.

“Don’t you dare,” Callie said.

Jen listened to her friends. She knew they were trying to be helpful. They were trying to be supportive, but they had families and futures. Rachel was just about to give birth, and Callie had just announced she was pregnant. Jen wasn’t anywhere close to being ready for a baby, but she wouldn’t want any baby but Stef’s. She wouldn’t have a family. She looked at big, gorgeous Zane, who worshipped the ground his wife walked on to such an extent that he was willing to share her with his best friend. Rachel had two husbands. Jen couldn’t even keep one man interested in her. Nate and Zane and Max and Rye wouldn’t let their wives out of their sight, but Stef wanted to send her to France.

She couldn’t help it. The tears started again.

Zane’s wide green eyes were huge as he stared at Jen in abject horror. “Oh, wow, just let me kill him. Would that make her stop crying? It’s killing me.”

Jen growled his way. Her friends were right. She just didn’t want to be around men right now. They all sucked. “I want to cry, asshole.

You, go away.”

Zane scooted out of the booth after kissing his wife on the forehead. He pointed toward the counter. “I’m going to be right over there, babe. Out of the line of fire.” He practically ran away.