Adam yawned and shoved his hand beneath his cheek. He wished his mom could come live with him and his dad. Maybe if he were really good and wanted it really a lot, she would.


Dylan knocked on Hope’s door and waited for her to answer. It was half past eleven, and he’d left the hospital as soon as the twins arrived, leaving them to take care of their father as much as their mother. Dylan had never seen Paul so upset. He’d never seen him so emotional before, but when they’d wheeled Shelly away, her husband had started bawling. Paul blamed himself and was acting as if he’d plunged the knife in her heart. He’d said he just couldn’t stand to see her hurt.

Sure, Shelly’s cut was bad, but it was nowhere near life-threatening. As he’d sat with his friend, instead of being repulsed by Paul’s blubbering, he found himself a bit jealous instead. He’d never loved a woman like that. Not the kind that could make him cry like a girl, especially after nineteen years of marriage. He wondered why he’d never found a woman he could love that much. He wondered if he ever would.

Now, lust. Lust was different. He’d had a real luston since the morning MZBHAVN had pulled into town. And during the drive home, he’d thought of little else but standing in Shelly’s kitchen, studying the soft skin of Hope’s hand and the lines on her palm. And during that long drive from Sun Valley, he’d thought about the night he’d brought her home from the Buckhorn, too. He remembered the way she’d touched him, and like watching a movie stuck in slow motion, he recalled every detail. The moist texture of her mouth, the caress of her hands sliding down his chest, the heavy ache between his legs.

The front door swung open and there she stood before him, backlit by the chandelier in the entry. After so many hours with Wally and Adam, he expected Hope to resemble a crazed Medusa. She didn’t. Her hair was down and a little messy, but she looked warm and drowsy, like she’d just gotten out of bed.

“Did I wake you?” he asked.

“No, I was lying down on the couch watching the end of Leno.” She stepped back and he entered the house.

She smelled all warm and drowsy, too, he thought. “The boys give you trouble?”

“They’re asleep.” She led him to the living room, and he let his gaze travel from the top of her hair, down her straight back, over the nice curve of her behind, to the backs of her smooth thighs. Her feet were bare. “We found some sleeping bags and kind of camped out.”

The tent made out of blankets shocked him. He supposed he would have been less surprised if they’d constructed a beauty parlor.

“They played haunted house upstairs for a while, and then when they got bored with that, we told scary stories down here.”

He moved his gaze from the tent to Hope. “They weren’t too much for you?”

“Well, they did wrestle almost constantly. Everything they picked up turned into some sort of sword or knife or gun, and the pulling-finger thing was a bit disturbing.” She cocked her head and looked up at him through the corners of her eyes. “I only thought about hitting the sauce once or twice.”

His attention was drawn to her smile, to her pink lips, and he wondered if she’d taste all sleepy, too. If she’d taste all warm and willing, as if he’d just woken her in the middle of the night to make love.

“Adam’s a nice little guy. You’re lucky to have him.” She brushed her hair behind her ears. “How’s Shelly?”

He opened his mouth to ask “Who?” but caught himself. Pushing aside the opening in the tent, he looked in on Wally and Adam. “She cut herself pretty bad. The doctors had to repair some tendons, but she’ll be okay. She should be home by morning.” The boys lay on top of more blankets and sleeping bags and were curled up like hibernating bears.

“That’s good news, I guess.”

“I think she’s doing better than Paul. He was carrying on like he’d killed her.” Dylan dropped the edge of the blanket and looked over at Hope. “I wasn’t around when Shelly had her boys, but she said that Paul was pacing and crying when they were born, too.”

“Didn’t you pace and cry when your wife had Adam?”

He didn’t correct her about Julie not being his wife.

“I didn’t have time. I barely got Julie to the hospital before he was born.”

“Short labor?”

“Long drive. We were visiting her father.” He moved toward her and glanced at the drawings on the coffee table. “Adam was born in the hospital there.”

“Adam mentioned her tonight.”

Dylan glanced up. “Julie? What did he say?”

“Just that she lives in California and has blond hair that used to be brown.”

It was definitely time to change the subject. “You all recovered from your encounter with Rocky Mountain oysters?”

“I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What your ex-wife does for a living.”

He looked her right in the eye and lied, “She’s a waitress.”

“Oh.” A wrinkle appeared between Hope’s brows as she sat on the arm of the couch.

“Now tell me if you’re recovered from the oysters.”

“Barely. If someone had told me that there were people who actually ate those things, I wouldn’t have believed them. It’s just too bizarre.”

At least when she talked about it now, she wasn’t screeching and pale and looking like she was about to vomit. In fact, a smile threatened the corners of her lips. Dylan liked her smile. He liked the sound of her laughter, too, feminine and sort of breathy. He liked it so much, he opened his mouth and told her the second biggest secret he knew. The secret so embarrassing no one in his family talked about. Not even at Thanksgiving, when they all got together and got hammered. “If you think that’s bizarre, then you should meet my cousin, Frank. He can hypnotize chickens.”

Hope’s brows rose and she looked at him like he was crazy. “How?”

Dylan raised his right hand. “He holds them down and makes them concentrate on his finger.”

She laughed. “You’re full of it.”

If his mother found out he’d spilled the beans about Cousin Frank, she’d kill him. She didn’t want anyone to know those kind of genes warped their DNA, but hearing Hope’s laughter just might be worth getting killed. “I swear it’s true.”

She shook her head and her hair fell forward and brushed her right cheek. “Why would anyone hypnotize a chicken?”

“ ‘Cause he can, I guess.”

“What does he hypnotize them to do? Go up on stage and act like people?”

He chuckled and moved toward her. “They just lie there, looking dead.” He pushed her shiny hair behind her ear, and the backs of his knuckles brushed her smooth cheek. “My aunt, Kay, seriously thinks he’s gifted.”

“You are seriously demented.”

Her hair tangling around his fingers was cool to the touch, and very soft. “You don’t believe me?”

“No.”

The brief contact twisted his belly into a knot, and he lowered his hand. “I told you the truth about the Rocky Mountain oysters.”

“You also told me you ate a lizard.”

“No, I never said I ate lizard.”

“You let me think you did.”

“Yeah, but that’s not a lie.”

“Maybe not technically, but you wanted me to believe something about you that wasn’t true.”

His gaze slid from her cheek to the bow of her top lip. “Well, then, I guess that makes us even.”

“You think I lie to you?”

He looked into her clear blue eyes, gone all wide and innocent. “Since the day you drove into town.”

She drew her brows together. “You could always do a check on me.”

“I could, but I don’t check a person’s background unless they give me a reason. It’s against department policy.” He paused before he asked, “Do I have a reason?”

“No.”

“Break any laws recently?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“No warrants for indecent exposure?”

“No.”

“Sexual harassment?”

She laughed. “Not recently.”

He looked her over from head to toe, then back up again. “That’s a shame.”

She tucked in her chin and regarded him out of the corner of her eye. “Are you flirting with me, Sheriff Taber?”

“Honey, if you have to ask, then I must be getting old.”

“How old are you?”

“Almost thirty-eight.”

Her lips became a seductive smile that warmed his chest. “You look pretty good for such an old guy.”

“Ms. Spencer, are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe.” A wrinkle appeared between her pale brows. “It’s been a long time since I’ve flirted with anyone, but I think so.” The wrinkle smoothed. “I guess you got lucky.”

Lucky. He didn’t know if he should run like hell or push her down on the couch and show her lucky. He took a step back. “Did you send in a request for Hiram Donnelly’s old file?” he asked, again changing the subject and putting a distance between them.

She stared at him for a few moments as if she didn’t follow the sudden shift in conversation. “Ah, yeah,” she finally said. “Last week.”

“Good. Let me know if you need help making sense out of them.” She stood and he took another step back. “I better get the boys home and put them to bed.”

“Their shoes are upstairs. I’ll get them.” Hope moved toward the stairs and felt very much like she had the night in her kitchen when he’d kissed her. After one touch, he couldn’t get away from her fast enough, and like that night, she didn’t know what she’d done.

When she got to the top of the stairs, she headed down the hall and went into a room on her right. Maybe she shouldn’t have admitted that she hadn’t flirted for a long time.

Maybe she’d scared him.

Beside the bed in the spare room at the end of the hall, she found Wally’s cowboy boots and one of Adam’s blue sneakers. As she crawled on the floor looking for the other shoe, she wondered if she gave off some sort of desperate vibe that freaked him out. By admitting she hadn’t flirted in a while, maybe he thought there was something wrong with her, and maybe he was right to do that. She’d met Dylan just over a week ago. She really didn’t know him, but when he looked at her or smiled at her or talked to her, her chest got tight. And when he touched her, she didn’t think at all.