short, cropped cotton top swirling. She wore a pair of terry cloth shorts, and her hair was wrapped up in a towel.

"You can't just walk in here like that!"

"Travis said you have a date."

She gaped, then gave him a look of exaggerated patience. "Maybe you didn't understand. I said"-she pointed at herself-"You can't just walk in here like that. A correct response from you"-she pointed at him- "would be something along the lines of I'm sorry, or even I didn't mean to barge in on you.

I'll just be moseying along."

"I don't use words like moseying. Besides, I've already seen you naked. You're dressed now. What's the problem?"

"You have never seen me naked!"

"Think back-"

"Great, another one of your think backs."

"-to the day you were at my house and you stripped naked. You said something about wanting to try out a new kind of bubble bath."

"I was three!"

"See, you admit it. But that's not what I'm here to talk about." He clicked the door shut and walked across the room to stand in front of her. "You said you didn't like Parker."

Disbelief at his unabashed audacity made her mouth fall open. "I never said that."

"Sure you did. We were standing in the kitchen that day when he came over with the flowers. You were streaked with dirt from gardening."

"You said you didn't like him."

His lips quirked at one corner. "I knew someone didn't like him."

She rolled her eyes. "Jesse, what do you want? I'm running late as it is."

"I think you should cancel."

"I am not going to cancel."

He heard his own frustrated growl. "Then you should go to a place like Melville's Mexican."

"Why in the world should I go there?"

"They have these little flags you can raise when you want something." Even he knew he was acting insane,

but the thought of his Katie-yes, his, damn it-going out with one of his old friends made

his blood boil.

Her chin rose a notch. "I don't see a restaurant with little flags as the ideal place to have a romantic dinner."

His jaw went tight and he eyed the tip of her chin, elegant, beautiful, like the rest of her, and stubborn-also like the rest of her. The thought brought him back to his senses. What she did or didn't do wasn't any of his business-and she wasn't his. More than that, and as much as he hated to admit it, a man like Parker Hammond would be good for her. She deserved someone like Parker, who was a responsible pillar of the community. A man who would never hurt Katie-even unintentionally. Jesse knew that no one could say the same about him.

Suddenly, he had no idea why he was standing there in her room, in her house. Hell, in El Paso.

He headed for the door with a curse. He stepped out into the hallway just as the front bell rang.

"Kate!" Travis called.

She gave a little jump, then pushed Jesse the rest of the way out the door. "That must be Parker. Will

you get it?" she asked. "And be nice to him until I'm ready. Thanks!"

She slammed the door in his face.

Five minutes later, Jesse, Travis, and Parker sat in the den, each of them sitting forward in his seat,

elbows on knees. Conversation was strained.

"Did Kate say she'd be long?" Parker asked.

"She didn't say," Travis answered.

Jesse just gave a cold stare as a few more silent minutes went by.

"So, how is it being back in El Paso?" Parker tried again.

"It's all right."

"Have you seen any of the old gang?"

"No."

Parker nodded his head. "We've all lost touch."

Then more sitting in silence.

Finally, Kate came out, and all three males leaped to their feet, relieved. Though every ounce of Jesse's

relief evaporated at the sight of her. She looked gorgeous, hair done up and kind of wild, and wearing a silky blouse that shimmered. And a skirt-a damned skirt that showed off the most incredible legs. "Wow, Kate," Travis enthused. "You look beautiful."

Her smile was shy but pleased. Parker looked rapturous at the sight of her. Despite his reasoning about what Katie deserved, Jesse hated that he felt a slow beating . . . fury? Yep, fury, he reassured himself. The kind that any good friend of hers would feel over how she looked like a damned fine seductress. It had nothing to do with jealousy. He didn't let himself think about the fact that fury made little sense and should hardly be more acceptable than jealousy.

The couple headed out the front door, but just before she escaped, she looked back and whispered, "Wish me luck."

The plank of oak thudded closed. Jesse and Travis stared.

"Luck?" Jesse asked. "What does she need luck for?"

Travis turned to him with the seriousness of a priest. "My guess is that she's going out to have sex."

"Sex?"

"Yep, she's acting an awful lot like how my mom's been since she started dating."

Jesse didn't want to think about Travis being aware of his mother's . . . extracurricular activities, just as he didn't want to think about what he felt regarding the possibility of Katie on her way out the door to have sex.

And yet he couldn't stop thinking about it. "Let's see what else is on TV," he grumbled.

Dinner was divine.

Kate sat back against the upholstered chair and drank in the surroundings. The lights burned low; music

played softly in the background.

Parker reached across the table for two and took her hand. "You are the most beautiful woman here."

She felt the blush sting her cheeks, and it felt good. She realized that she felt happy, even if she wasn't

filled with crazy excitement. This was what life was about.

Squeezing back, she said, "Thank you. Everything has been perfect."

Lulled by the same contentment she had felt with Parker at lunch and when they spoke on the phone,

she decided that if she wanted to stop living on the sidelines of life, this was her opportunity to take drastic measures. It was time she moved forward toward a new future.

She also thought about Julia's e-mail.

"I thought we could go back to your place," she blurted out.

His eyes filled with desire, his voice lowering. "I'd like that."

They drove to his house on Rim Road. She had seen it once or twice. It was a showcase of tasteful furniture and artwork. Which meant it looked nothing like the eclectic mix of Kate's adobe house with its terra-cotta tile roof, the overstuffed sofa, and multicolored hand-painted kitchen chairs.

"Can I offer you a glass of wine?"

She agreed, sat on his ultramodern chaise, her skirt fluttering around her knees, then sipped the

full-bodied cabernet, hoping for liquid courage to keep her from bolting. She tried to make herself think wild if not crazy, but it only made her heart hammer harder.

Parker turned on the stereo, pressed a button that opened the living room drapes, and she saw the city

spilling out below their perch on the hill.

"It's beautiful," she said, meaning it.

He sat down next to her without answering, then ran the backs of his fingers along a single loose tendril

of hair that curled down her cheek. She waited to feel a tingle of sensation, a shiver of longing . . .