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“Where is everyone?” he asked.

  A safe enough question, and one that didn’t surprise her. “Eddie and Stone are most likely in town enjoying their day off.” Stone was probably drinking too much, too, she thought with a flicker of worry that she kept to herself.

  “Tucson?”

  “Tucson’s too far for a day run. Three Rocks.”

  “Three Rocks isn’t a town. I blinked on the way in here and nearly missed it.”

  “Not every place is as big as San Diego.”

  He lifted a brow in agreement. “Okay, so the Motley Crew is out on the ‘town.’”

  Callie smiled at the nickname for Stone and Eddie McDermitt. The brothers might have been hell on the myriad of other ranches they’d been fired from because monotony bored them, but the Blue Flame catered to their guests’ whims, which always varied, so there was no monotony. She’d known when she’d hired the brothers that she wouldn’t be sorry. They had a good work ethic, were fast on their feet, and delighted their guests with their “real cowboy” charm.

  In fact, she couldn’t have managed without them. That they had some personal problems was another story. “You know Kathy left us last week. I just hired a new cook. Amy Wheeler. I faxed you her employment form? She’s probably in town today, too. Marge left yesterday to take a break from cleaning and preparing bedrooms, but if I know her, she’s at her mother’s house doing more of the same, and Lou’s looking for work as he just got laid off from his full-time job in town.”

  “Lou?”

  “You remember Marge’s husband? He works for us on an as-needed basis doing all our mechanical stuff?”

  “Right. But I guess when I said others, I meant Tucker.”

  Now that did surprise her. “His day is his own today as well.”

  Jake nodded, and she couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed.

  “So why are you here today?” he asked. “Don’t you ever take time off from this place?” He looked around as if he couldn’t understand why one would choose to spend their free time out here. That insulted her, and since she couldn’t come up with something nice to say, she took a lesson from Thumper’s mother and said nothing at all.

  They stepped onto the porch that might have needed some refinishing, but did he have to look at it like it wouldn’t hold their weight? She kicked off her muddy boots, not wanting to ruin the clean floors inside. Opening the door, she gestured him in ahead, but he stopped in the doorway with her and put his hand on her arm.

  She looked down at his fingers on her skin, then up into his face. He was crowding her, darn it. Please, God, don’t let him say he was selling. Not yet. She wasn’t ready yet—

  “I saddled you with him,” he said quietly. “Is it working out?”

  It took a moment for her brain to shift gears. “You mean Tucker?”

  He nodded, and she let out a low laugh. “You ‘saddled’ me with him nearly two years ago. You’re just now asking?” She shook her head. “Tucker is amazing with the horses. This place is better for having him here. You should know that. You would know that if you’d looked around at all on your last two visits.”

  Jake’s steely gaze searched hers. “I’m just making sure. He’s stubborn as hell, and hard-headed to boot.”

  “And brooding and moody, too. All traits that run in the family, I’m taking it.”

  “He’s only my half brother.”

  She knew this, of course. She knew far too much about this man that stood too close. “Look, make yourself at home, okay?” He would anyway. He had every right to do so more often than he did. She needed to remember that, and be grateful this was probably no longer a visit than his others had been. “I’ll be back in a few.” She turned to go back out, but they were still in the doorway together, too close in her opinion, and she accidentally bumped into him, making him hiss out a breath. “Sorry,” she said, a little surprised at his reaction.

  His expression shuttered. “No problem.”

  She looked him over, trying to figure out what she was missing, but he gave off no clue. “When I get back, I’ll try to figure out where to put you for a few nights—”

  “More than a few.”

  “So…three or four?”

  “Yeah, three or four. Months.”

  And he turned and walked into the living room.

  Please see the next page for a sneak peak at the upcoming novel in Jill Shalvis’s bestselling Lucky Harbor series,

  It Had to Be You

  Chapter 1

  Some things were set in stone: The sun would rise every morning, the tide would come in and out without fail, and a girl needed to check herself out in the mirror before a date no matter the obstacle. To that end, Ali Winters climbed up on the toilet seat to get a full view of herself in the tiny bathroom mirror of the flower shop where she worked. Ducking so that she didn’t hit her head on the low ceiling, she took in her reflection. Not bad from the front, she decided, and carefully spun around to catch the hind view of herself in her vintage—aka thrift store—little black dress.

  Also not bad.

  She’d closed up Lucky Harbor Flowers thirty minutes ago to get ready for the town’s big fundraiser tonight, where they were hopefully going to raise the last of the money for the new community center. Earlier, she’d spent several hours delivering and decorating Town Hall with huge floral arrangements from the shop, as well as setting up a display of her pottery for the auction. She was excited about the night ahead, but Teddy was late.

  Nothing unusual. Her boyfriend of four months was perpetually late but such a charmer it never seemed to matter. He was the town clerk, and on top of being widely beloved by just about everyone who’d ever met him, he was also a very busy guy. He’d been in charge of the funding for the new community center, a huge undertaking, so most likely, he’d just forgotten that he’d promised to pick her up. Hopefully.

  Still precariously balanced, she eyed herself again, just as there was a sudden knock on the bathroom door. Jerking upright in surprise, she hit her head on the ceiling and nearly toppled to the floor. Hissing in a breath, she gripped her head and carefully stepped down. Managing that without killing herself, she opened the door to her boss, Russell, the proprietor of Lucky Harbor Flowers.

  Russell was in his mid-thirties and reed thin, with spiked blond hair, bringing him to just above her own almost-but-not-quite, five foot five. He was wearing red skinny pants and a half tucked–in red-and-white checkered polo shirt. These were his favorite golf clothes, though he didn’t golf, because he objected to sweating. He was holding a ceramic pot filled with an artful array of flowers in each hand.

  Ali took in the two arrangements, both colorful and cheerful, and—if she said so herself—every bit as pretty as the pots, which were hers too.

  “What’s wrong with this picture?” Russell asked.

  She let go of the top of her head. “Um, they’re all kinds of awesome?”

  “Correct,” Russell said with an answering smile. “But they’re also all kinds of waste. No one ordered these, Ali.”

  “Yes, but they’ll look fantastic in the window display.” An age-old argument. “They’ll draw people in,” she said, “and then someone will order them.”

  Russell sighed with dramatic flair. The flower shop had been his sister Mindy’s until two years ago, when he’d bought it from her so that she could move to Los Angeles with her new boyfriend. “Sweetkins, I pay you to make floral arrangements because no one in Lucky Harbor does it better. I love your ceramic-ware and think you’re a creative genius. I also think that genius is completely wasted on the volunteer classes you give at the senior center, but that’s another matter entirely. You already know that I think you give too much of yourself to others. Regardless of that big, warm heart of yours, you make the arrangements. I run the business.”

  Ali bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say what she wanted to. If he would listen to her ideas, they’d increase business. She was sure of it.

  “And speaking of th