He slid in opposite her, and she was glad she’d just swallowed or drool would be dribbling off her chin. That facial hair of his got her every time. “Hey. No, I managed to keep that one for you. Just don’t sit in the chair by the wall or my invisible friend will beat you up.”

Matt’s smile flashed white. “I hope he’s not planning on staying for long.”

A snort escaped. “Nahh, he’s got a date.”

“Invisible friends.” He laughed. “Did you ever hear about the time the twins decided there were dragons living in the hayloft?”

She shook her head, not bothering to pretend she wasn’t checking him out. Matt kept talking, but all the while she was examining his beard, the way his eyes sparkled as his hands rose to help with the storytelling. Hmm, hands.

She knew how firm they were. His lips as well.

Hope pinched her thigh and sat a little straighter in an attempt to throw her mental process from full-throttle forward into physical admiration to what this was supposed to be about. Making friends.

And then the sex, her mind whispered, and she pressed her lips tight to stop from moaning.

Matt leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I think we might need to start again.”

She shook herself alert. “What? I’m sorry.”

“You’re objectifying me already. I know this is going to be tough, but I thought you could at least keep your hands off me for thirty minutes.”

His teasing smirk helped push her thoughts the proper direction. “Busted. I’ll wait with the guh comments then. You’re mighty fine, Mr. Colem—”

He threw up his hand. “Whoa. There’s nothing more mood-killing than thinking you’re checkin’ out my dad with lust, okay?”

“Oops.”

That deep chuckle of his sent goose bumps all over her. “What we need to discuss has nothing to do with the drool-worthy state of your being—although let me just get it out there that you look awesome—and everything to do with dinner. See anything you like?”

“Yes.” She stared him over.

Matt laughed and poked at the menu. “This list.”

Drat. “I haven’t decided yet.”

He winked then picked up his own menu.

Hope relaxed as she checked the options, impressed with his tactics. If he’d ignored the simmering heat between them, it probably would have made things harder to deal with. Acknowledging their attraction, putting it right out in the open instead of being an elephant in the corner—well, the desire was still in the room but it was a lot easier to deal with saying it was there.

That it was fine to feel the tension, but for now they could move on to the next thing.

By the time their food arrived, she was laughing out loud at his stories. They stole food off each other’s plates and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

Hope eased back in her chair and raised the last of her Coke in a salute. “Here, here. To a wonderful first date. Suggesting this place was fantastic. Ready for my addition?”

He nodded. “Movie? Walk? Are we going to cut innocent chunks of fabric into teeny tiny pieces then sew them back together?”

She snorted. “Innocent chunks of fabric?”

“That’s my nephew Lance’s description of quilting. Kind of the same concept as making trees into furniture, but what you do is nowhere near as manly, you know.”

“Good thing my manhood isn’t offended by that definition.”

Matt took a long, slow gaze down her body, enjoying every minute of it if she was any judge of his expression, before meeting her eyes again. “Your manhood has nothing to be offended about.”

Simmering lust shot way back up to a boil. Why, oh why, had she suggested no sex was a good idea? A change of topic was desperately needed. She sat up and clapped her hands together. “We’re going tobogganing.”

“Oh God, really?”

Hope nodded. “At the ski hill.”

He lifted a brow and smiled with a little more interest. “Really?”

“Ha, you lazy ass. You didn’t want to do it when it required hard labour.”

“Damn right. I got enough exercise today.” He rose to his feet and held out a hand, tucking her fingers into his strong grip. Outside he paused in confusion. “Where’s your car?”

She pointed and waited for the fireworks to begin.

“Okay…”

It was almost anticlimactic, his total lack of response as he walked her to the truck she’d pointed out and waited for her to unlock the door.

“Shall I meet you at the hill?” he asked.

Hope nodded.

He helped her in then shut the door and waved. Only he pulled out his cell phone as he walked away. Uh-oh. Seems a moment of brotherly love was about to take place.

She turned over the reluctant engine and shoulder-checked before slipping into the traffic and heading back into town.


Matt wondered how close to danger level his blood pressure was. Still, he wasn’t going to take his concerns out on Hope.

But his brother? He had no trouble stirring up some shit there.

He put through the call. Blake picked up. “Yo, bro.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

There was silence for a minute. “This is Matt I’m talking to, right? Calm, cool and collected—”

“Did you sell Hope that hunk of junk that’s been sitting in the back forty for the past ten years?”

“Nope.”

Matt swore as he caught up with her, positive he was going to be pulling over to pick up chunks of metal from the road as the wreck fell to pieces before his very eyes. “Well then, hallelujah, there’s been a miracle, because somehow she’s driving said wreck down the street in front of me. And so I repeat, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that she didn’t have a car, and it must be damn tough to be a single woman with no vehicle. And since the shop figured it would cost more to repair the crap she was driving than it was worth in insurance, when she came here last week and asked if I would sell her—”

“What!” Matt pulled the phone from his ear and clutched the steering wheel tight to stop from flinging anything anywhere, including his own vehicle in front of hers to act as a guard.

He counted to ten. Twice. Then he spoke. “Hey, you still there?”

“For all of five seconds if you continue to be a shithead.”

Matt collected his hard-won calm and forced it into his voice. “Sorry, that was just a momentary lack of concentration. Let me get this straight. Hope came to you and asked for the hunk of junk that’s been out rusting behind the far barn for years.”

“She did.”

“And you sold it to her?”

“I gave it to her. Well, fine, sold it for a dollar. Just to make it legal.”

Oh God. “Shit, Blake. Still…I mean…”

His brother rumbled back, his own annoyance coming through. “Yeah, I know the truck’s a piece of crap. But she had valid reasons and insisted it would work. She brought over a new battery, a couple of milk crates to secure shit in the back and we used binder twine to lash the front seat in place.”

Matt’s temper raced upward again. “Did you say binder twine? Goddamn, Blake! So, what’s going to happen if she’s in an accident?”

“She said it’s only temporary, but she needs a way to get around.”

“I don’t like it.”

Blake snorted. “Tough shit. I don’t think it’s your choice, is it?”

“Would you let Jaxi ride in there with her?” The silence at the other end of the line was enough to make his point come through loud and clear. Matt knew he had Blake. “Right. That’s what I thought. Good luck convincing me you had nothing but—”

“Does she know you know she has the beast?”

“Since I just took her out for dinner and I’m following her to the ski hill, umm, yeah.”

“What’d she say to you?”

“Nothing.”

Blake sighed. “Not going to tell you your business, but if the DMV approved her, and she got the thing insured, not much you can do.”

Not without coming off like the over-controlling jerk of the century. “I hear you.”

“I promised to keep an eye out for a good deal. Something smaller. You got to admit, that piece of crap is a bloody tank. If she does lose control, she’d win the fight with ninety percent of what’s out there for her to hit.”

“You’re not making this any better, Blake.”

“Sorry.” A high-pitched cry reverberated in the background. “Gotta go. Princess Becca is commanding my presence. Have fun at the hill.”

“Yeah, run and hide behind the babies. I’m still pissed at you.”

Hope made it to the parking lot in one piece, and Matt pulled in beside her, staring at the dash as he went through and discarded different responses.

Blake was right—it was her choice.

She was going to get her neck broken.

If she did get hurt, he was going to kill his brother.

The truck should have been driven straight to the edge of the dump and pushed off years ago.

A light tap on the window pulled him back to discover Hope staring in. She wore an old-fashioned jester cap on her head, complete with bells on the ends of the long, dangling tassels. Neon green and pink, it was hilarious and ridiculous, and made him smile at her total lack of self-consciousness.

So unlike Helen, who would have never been caught dead in such an outfit.

Hope didn’t smile back. Instead, there was a tiny furrow between her eyes as she waited. “You coming?”

He nodded then grabbed his gloves and a spare toque from the back. He paused casually next to the rust-bucket mobile under the guise of pulling on his gear. Actually, he used the time to sneak a glance at the licence.

Insured and registered. Dammit. “So. New wheels?”