Delia folded her arms over her chest, looking prim and proper in spite of how she weaved back and forth from too much spiked hot chocolate. "Truth," she said, lifting her chin. "Because all the brandy in the world couldn't make me desperate enough to kiss you."

Cade grinned, uninsulted. "Okay. Your most memorable sexual experience, then."

"What about it?"

"Tell us the details."

And if Zoe had laughed at Delia's expression before, she roared now, holding her aching sides as she let go.

Delia, horrified, just glared at her.

"You know what a forfeit is, dear Delia?" Cade asked sweetly, and they all roared again when Delia eloquently told Cade where to put his suggestion.

"Okay, never mind. I'll start," Cade relented, still grinning. "Um, let's see… most memorable sexual experience… In an elevator."

"An elevator?" Shocked, Zoe pictured the short distance between any two floors. How did that work? she wondered. "Wow, Cade."

"Oh, don't encourage him!" Delia tried to hold on to her frown, but gave in with a laugh and a quick swig of her laced drink. "Fine, then," she said, refortified with courage and brandy. "Started in an open field, blanketed by wildflowers." She lifted a saucy brow at Cade. "Satisfied?"

Of course he wasn't, he was full of trouble, and it shone from his eyes. "Started?" he said, wanting clarification. "Or finished? It makes all the difference, you know."

"Bees. Lots of bees," Delia said with a remembered shudder. "Ruined the mood."

As they laughed and drank more hot chocolate, everyone turned to Maddie, who went beet-red. "I can't think of anything," she said quickly, so obviously embarrassed that no one had the heart to press her.

"Zoe?" Cade asked, and all heads swiveled to her expectantly.

Her amusement quickly faded. "This is so immature."

"But wicked fun," Cade encouraged. "Come on. Your turn. Most memorable sexual experience."

"Um…" With brandy buzzing her veins and everyone looking at her, it was hard to think, but she felt no one's gaze as much as Ty's, and suddenly she couldn't come up with anything.

It might have been the fact she had consumed far more alcohol than she was used to.

It might have been that she had only one experience in her life to even discuss, and that had been pathetically short and completely unsatisfying.

Or it might have been that she didn't want to talk about it in front of the one man in her entire life she'd actually fantasized about. Other than Mel Gibson, that is.

"I can help you out here, I think," Ty said kindly.

"You can?" Relief was so great. Zoe beamed at him, thinking he was pretty darn nice as well as gorgeous. Maybe even as gorgeous as Mel.

"Uh-huh." His smile spread, causing her stomach to do little flip-flops that had nothing to do with the brandy. "Let's see…" He considered her seriously as he stroked his chin. "I'd have to say in the barn."

Wait, Zoe thought, befuddled. Wait a minute. He was talking about him and her! Ty laughed, a low, sexy sound that had heat and longing spearing Zoe's skin.

"Alas, also unconsummated," he added regretfully.

Delia's eyes widened. "Zoe? With… you. In the barn?"

Zoe decided Ty wasn't nearly so cute anymore. And not nice at all. In fact, she was going to kill him, just as soon as her vision cleared and she could figure out which one of his two heads was the right one.

"Oh, boy," Maddie whispered. Then she giggled, slapped her hand over her mouth and started to shake with laughter. "Oh, boy."

Delia bit her bottom lip, but couldn't bold back. Soon the two of them were screaming with laughter, tears spilling down their faces as they struggled not to fall off their log.

"I don't see what's so funny!" Zoe stood, wavered on her feet, than glared down at her sisters. "And you didn't ask him why it was unconsummated. For your information, I punched his lights out!"

"Uh, Zoe? Actually, you slugged me only the first time," Ty corrected her helpfully. "The second and third time we made out, you kissed me back. A lot."

Zoe stalked off into the night then, in tune to Maddie and Delia's shrieks of laughter. Face hot, heart racing, she stormed, her legs churning up the rough ground.

Definitely going to kill him, she thought, stumbling over her own two left feet. The nerve, the absolute nerve! That he had been correct didn't matter in the least. "I wish I could just forget the whole thing," she muttered, passing the barn in a huff.

"No, you don't."

At the sound of the man who had just given her sisters ammunition to tease her with for years to come, Zoe sped up her pace, refusing to even look at him. "Go away."

She didn't look at him, just kept going, needing a place to be alone where she could wallow in her mortification in peace.

Ty followed; she could hear his footsteps, much smoother than her own clumsy ones. Why had she drunk so much? She never drank. In the morning she was going to kill Cade, too, just on principle.

Her own breathing rang sharp in her ears as she passed the cottages, and on the cold night, her breath fogged in front of her face. Behind her, Ty wasn't even laboring, which only infuriated her all the more.

Before she knew it, she had come to the edge of Triple M and stood staring down at Ty's much smaller spread. He'd left the lights on in his house. It looked warm and inviting, and confusion welled as she wavered.

"You're the only one," she whispered, facing the night but talking to the silent man behind her. "The only one I've ever let see me. You know, the real me."

His voice was just as hushed. "Have you asked yourself why?"

She hesitated, feeling emotionally stripped. "I don't know why. I don't understand. No one else… ever," she trailed off lamely. She shivered and he made a low sound of… regret?

"Come on," he said, touching her hand with his. "You're cold. I'll make more hot chocolate-without the brandy."

"I'm not drunk." But she went meekly with him, suddenly realizing she had to concentrate on each footstep, one at a time, because walking had never been quite so difficult.

"How many times did you let Cade fill your mug?"

"At least one too many."

He laughed softly in agreement. They went down the hill, into the most beautiful wilderness she'd ever seen. Of course she couldn't see much now, not in the dark. But she didn't have to see, she could remember. It was forever imprinted on her soul, this new home of hers. The wildflowers, which were so abundant they were show-offs in the day's breeze. The trees, which outnumbered the trout in the river, but not by much. She knew Lewis and Clark had called this land Paradise, and she thought they were right. It was paradise. Her paradise.

The night seemed to swallow them. Zoe shivered again. Ty let go of her hand and wrapped a strong arm around her, and never in her life could she remember feeling so safe.

"I want to be able to forget our kisses, but you keep reminding me," she said, bewildered. Definitely too much brandy. It loosened her tongue.

"Why would you want to forget?"

Now he was breathing heavily and she realized it was because he was supporting her weight as well as his. Good, served him right. "Because they felt so good. Why is that, Ty? Do you practice a lot?"

"No." But he was grinning, she could heard it in his voice when he spoke. "Man, are you going to be mad at yourself tomorrow."

"It's not my fault, really, that I melt when you kiss me. It's because I haven't been kissed like that in…" Forever. "Well, a long time," she said defensively. "You can't blame me for turning into Jell-O when you touch me."

"Can't blame you one bit," he agreed, hoisting her closer when she threatened to slide down to the ground.

She waved her hand when she talked, nearly slapping him in the face. "And now Maddie and Delia will never let me forget that I've kissed you, not when I've been pretending to hate you."

He tucked his tongue into his cheek and vowed to get her drunk more often.

Finally they made it to his front door. When he got her inside, he headed toward his fireplace, wanting to get her warmed before he drove her home.

"Your house. It's… lovely." She craned her neck, looking around. He knew what she saw-high wood-beamed ceilings, rustic interior, sparse but comfortable furniture.

She met his gaze as he hunkered by the fireplace, match in hand. "It's a home," she said with some surprise. "A real one."

"Yes." He knew exactly what she meant, for their backgrounds weren't all that different. Neither of them had belonged before, had ever had a true home. The ranch house was his first, and it gave him one of his few good pleasures because it was warm and cozy and everything he imagined a real home should be.

"But…" Distress filled her expression. "I don't want to know this about you," she whispered, suddenly looking stone-cold sober. She wrapped her arms around herself, confused. "I don't want to know you're capable of this, that you can…"

He lit the kindling, then rose to his feet in one movement, suddenly restless. "You don't want to know I'm a real man with real needs like warmth and comfort and love and affection?" Anger was a slow, inexorable burn in the pit of his belly. "A man who maybe isn't just after your land, but maybe something much, much more important?"

"Yes, that," she agreed softly, backing up as he took a step toward her.

The fire crackled, the night outside the windows was complete. Inside was close and toasty and soothing. It absolutely terrified the woman in front of him in a way he understood better than anyone else would.

"You said we'd go slow," she whispered hoarsely as he came close.