"Yes, but I work with software. I recently sold two programs to Google."

I feel my eyes go wide in surprise and then I smile and clap my hands. "That's awesome, Max! Good for you. What kind of programs?"

"They're ranching programs, actually. Bringing farming and ranching into the new millennium." He shrugs as if he's embarra.s.sed and twists his gla.s.s of scotch on the table. "So I may be in the market for a new house."

"I happen to know someone who sells houses," I tease him. "What are you looking for?"

"Something newer, not in the heart of town. I'd like to be close to Jenna in case she needs me." He shrugs again and his cheeks heat. "Price isn't really an issue."

"I'll see what's available and email you a list if you'd like."

He nods. "Thanks, I'd appreciate it."

"How is your sister?" I ask after the waitress takes our order.

"Jenna's great. I worry about her being up on the mountain alone, though. Especially in winter."

"I've heard nothing but great things about her B and B," I say.

"She's done a great job with it." He turns bright green eyes to mine and offers me a half grin. "Tell me about you."

"I just moved back myself," I inform him. "Moved back this summer from LA."

"Why the move?"

I cringe inwardly. I've only told Cara about the fiasco that was my life in LA. I'm not baring my soul to Max.

"It was time to be closer to family," I tell him. "I missed Montana."

"Me too. Although snowstorms like yesterday make me wonder why."

"No kidding."

"Did you get a new car?"

"Yes, a new Ford. It's red and shiny and the seat keeps my a.s.s warm. I love it."

Max laughs and leans toward me. He's so handsome, with his wide smile and gorgeous eyes. He's successful and intelligent and kind. Please, G.o.d, let there be some kind of awareness when he touches me.

"That was your laundry list of requirements?" he asks and covers my hand with his, and I'm disappointed that there is no spark, no sense of awareness.

d.a.m.n it! A nice, hot guy is interested in me, and I feel zilch.

Typical.

"Pretty much," I shrug and slowly pull my hand out from under his. He notices, but doesn't say anything and I sip my soda in relief. We spend the next hour chatting about our hometown and mutual friends, enjoying our meal.

"Wow, Ty and Lauren Cunningham," Max comments as he polishes off his chocolate souffle.

"They're really great together." I sip my coffee. "I don't think I've ever seen Ty so happy."

"That's awesome. I'll call him while I'm in town." He reaches for my hand again, but I lean back out of his reach.

"Max, it's been so great to see you again . . ."

"But you're not interested in doing it again," he finishes correctly.

"I'm sorry," I sigh and hang my head. "You're great and I like you."

"It's cool. Friends can have dinner together." He smiles and I can see that there are no hard feelings.

Thank G.o.d!

"Thank you," I murmur. Nice guy. Totally sweet. Hot as h.e.l.l. Successful. And I can't even stand to hold his hand.

I want to bury my face in my palm, but manage to smile as he settles the check and walks me outside. "I'm parked over there," I tell him, pointing to the right.

"I'm that way." He points in the other direction. "It's been great catching up, Jill. Drive safely home."

"I'll email you a list of houses in the next few days," I reply and tilt my head when he moves in to kiss my cheek.

"Perfect, thank you." He pats my shoulder, winks, and walks off toward his Mercedes.

I watch him walk away, then sigh and kick at the snow before walking toward my car.

When I get close, I see Zack sitting in his truck, parked right next to mine.

Why is Zack here?

As I approach, Zack gets out of his truck, his handsome face pulled tight.

"What's wrong?" I ask. "Has something happened to Cara? Or Josh?"

"No." He shakes his head and comes to a stop a few feet away from me. "Everyone's fine."

"Then why are you here?" I ask, confused.

He sighs and scrubs his fingers through his hair, then props his hands on his hips and hangs his head. "I just needed to make sure you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

He doesn't answer, and it all starts to make sense.

"Zack, why wouldn't I be okay?" I ask again and cross my arms over my chest.

"I told you, Max has a history of being a womanizer."

"Max has always been a friend of yours," I remind him. "He's a good guy."

He rubs his fingers over his mouth the way he does when he's agitated and shrugs again. "I'm just making sure you're okay."

"Let me get this straight. You drove all the way into town and sat in your truck, waiting for me to finish dinner, just to make sure I'm okay? Do you know how ridiculous you sound?"

"I'm ridiculous because I want to make sure you're safe?"

"Zack, what do you care who I date? You don't want me, remember?"

His mouth drops and his face pales before his eyes narrow. He steps forward and pushes his nose close to mine and I can smell the earthy, clean scent of him.

"I wasn't the one who got on a plane and left the f.u.c.king state the next day, Jillian. I never said I didn't want you."

"I woke up and you were gone!"

"I had to check on my son!" he yells back.

"Well, you should have woke me up or left me a note! I'm not a f.u.c.king mind reader." I shake my head and back away. I can't believe this. He wants me? "You've avoided me like the plague!"

"When a woman flees the f.u.c.king state after I've had the best s.e.x of my life with her, I take that to mean she's not interested."

I'm struck dumb.

Best s.e.x of his life?

"You wanted to see me again?" I ask in a small voice. "I thought it was a one-night stand."

He grips my shoulders in his hands and yanks me against his hard chest and covers my lips with his. This is no soft, seductive kiss. It's hard and possessive. Hungry. He growls as his arms loop around me and pulls me closer to him. I open up to him, allowing him inside my mouth to dance and plunder, to take control.

G.o.d, I missed the way this man kisses.

I lose all sense of place and time. I don't give a s.h.i.t that every person in the restaurant is watching us right now. Or that we're out in the cold in the middle of winter. All I care about is having his arms around me, his mouth on me, and hearing the moans of pleasure coming from his throat.

Finally, he breaks the kiss and pulls away. We're both panting, our breath coming in clouds in the cool winter night, watching each other with hungry eyes.

He blinks and turns to open my car door for me, waits for me to climb inside, and then, without another word, walks around to his own truck. He follows me all the way to my driveway, and I'm sure he's going to come inside and finish what he started with that hot-as-h.e.l.l kiss.

But when I climb out of my car, he doesn't make a move to follow. I walk back to his truck and wait for him to roll down his window.

"Are you coming in?" I ask.

His jaw ticks and his lips are pulled into a thin line. Finally, he shakes his head stiffly and mutters, "No. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay."

I frown and back away from his door, embarra.s.sment coloring my cheeks.

"Well, I'm home. See you." Without another word, I turn my back on him and stomp up to my door, unlock it, and push inside, closing the door behind me.

What in the name of all that's holy just happened?

I would have invited him in without another thought to finish what he started in the parking lot. G.o.d, is this what I've been reduced to? Taking any sc.r.a.ps Zack decides to throw my way?

When did I become this woman?

I scrub the tears from my cheeks and march back to my bedroom to change, wash my face, and pull my hair back in a ponytail.

Who the h.e.l.l does Zack King think he is anyway?

Just as I sit on the couch with my laptop to start researching houses for Max, my phone pings with a text from Zack.

I delete it without reading it.

Screw him and his hot kisses and his s.e.xy body. I don't need a man who thinks it's fun to play with my emotions.

I don't need a man, period.

Oh G.o.d, I've become a man-hater.

No, I'm not. I love men. I love Ty and Josh. I'm even quite fond of Seth.

But Seth's dad can suck it.

Deciding that it's probably best if I'm not alone for the next few hours, and not wanting to drive out to the ranch to hang out with Cara, I text my brother.

Me: Make sure you're dressed. I'm coming over.

I grab my purse and hit the remote start on my new car-d.a.m.n, I love that car-just as Ty texts back.

Ty: We're dressed. Come on over.

My car handles like a dream on the slick roads across town to the house Ty now shares with Lauren. Her great-grandfather was one of the founding fathers of Cunningham Falls, and the house they live in was pa.s.sed down to her by her parents, who died a few years ago. The house is the biggest in town, a colonial-style white home with a circular driveway and beautiful gardens.

Cunningham Falls is gorgeous in winter. Not only because of the snow that covers everything, making it look clean and fresh, but also because of the lovely holiday decorations that have been hung every year the weekend after Thanksgiving for more than fifty years.

Big, red bells and fresh evergreen garlands are strung above the streets, along the streetlights. White lights twinkle through the branches. Snowflakes and snowmen made of white lights are hung on the telephone poles.

Thanks to the snowfall last night, everything is blanketed in the white powder, making our little town look like something out of a d.i.c.kens novel.

As I pull into the driveway, I see that white Christmas lights are hanging on the house.

I guess I should put mine up this week too.

"Nice car," Ty calls as he jogs down the front steps.

"Thanks." I grin proudly. "I bought it today."

"You went alone?" He frowns as he opens the pa.s.senger door and slips inside, checking it out.

"No, Zack went with me."

His head whips up and he stares at me in surprise.