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  Five

  The next morning Kate made her daily stop at her dad’s, where it was a wash and repeat of every other morning. Ashley couldn’t find her own stuff; Tommy was dressed like . . . “Who are you?” Kate asked him, not sure what the glowing circle on his chest meant.

  “Tony Stark,” he said, nose in a book.

  Channing Tatum scratched at the back door and then came in carrying a still-alive field mouse, which had everyone running around and screaming for a few minutes until said field mouse was caught and exported back outside.

  Finally, Kate rushed everyone out the door and slid into Ryan’s waiting car, handing him a coffee. “I didn’t doctor it up,” she warned.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re mean.”

  “What? I am not.”

  She looked at him. “No? So if I said I needed you to be my date to tonight’s wedding rehearsal, you’d say . . . ?”

  “Hell no.”

  “And that’s why you’re drinking black coffee.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, and drank his black coffee without further complaint. “Thirteen days, you know.”

  “Yes, I know.” Thirteen days left to accept at UCSD. She had her acceptance typed up in her e-mail. All she had to do was take it out of the draft folder and hit Send.

  But she hadn’t.

  Because how could she? How could she walk away from her dad for a year? What if he needed her? What if Tommy or Ashley needed her? And her job. Ryan had promised to hold it for her, but he couldn’t really guarantee that. It was up to the school district . . .

  They drove in silence. Ryan was in his zone, and so was Tommy.

  Not Kate. Unless you counted reliving kissing Griffin Reid. Because actually, that had been a hell of a zone . . .

  * * *

  Grif woke up the next morning drenched in sweat, heart pounding out of his chest, and with absolutely no idea where he was. Afghanistan? Germany? Sitting straight up, he took in the room with one glance before sagging back. He was stateside, in Sunshine, at his father’s house.

  Shoving his fingers through his hair, he let out a long breath. His phone was vibrating across the nightstand, the number unfamiliar though he recognized the DC area code. “Reid,” he answered.

  “You got your head on straight yet?”

  Joe Rodriguez. They’d served together before Joe had gotten out and gone to work for the ATF. “My head’s straight,” Grif said. “It’s the rest of the world that’s sideways.”

  Joe laughed. “Ain’t that the truth. Heard you’re not going back to Crazy-stan.”

  Grif knew soldiers whose entire life was caught up in their military career, guys for whom an injury like he’d sustained would have not just been physical.

  Grif wasn’t one of them. Yes, he’d have stayed in the military if he hadn’t been hurt. But he had been, and he wasn’t one to look back with a lot of regrets. “I’m done with all the ’Stans,” he confirmed.

  “Got something for you then. A job. You interested?”

  “Where?”

  “In the good ol’ US of A, man,” Joe said. “The land of free Wi-Fi, Thai takeout, and Fantasy Football. There’re a few things uniquely suited to you and your skills here on the East Coast, and a few other places, too. Up to you.”

  Grif turned his head and looked out the window. He could see the outline of the Bitterroot Mountains. He’d spent a lot of time over the years exploring those peaks—pretty much the only time he’d ever been happy in Sunshine. But he hadn’t meant to actually stay here. Had he? Getting away after the wedding would probably be for the best. Having a job would be even better. “I’m interested.”

  “Good. I’ll get back to you soon.”

  Grif disconnected and lay back, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, thinking it was sort of nice not to be worried about dying today. He could get used to that.

  Then he heard a soft, musical laugh. He knew that laugh, and not just because the sound of it made him hard. It was Kate, and he supposed he knew why he thought he heard her now. After that kiss they’d shared last night, he’d dreamed about her, about being wrapped up in her soft curves, buried deep. And now he was imagining that she was here. Which probably made him crazy.

  But then he heard it again. Rolling out of bed, he strode straight to the window.

  Reid Ranching was more like an empire these days, but the biggest ranch in the corporation still remained this one. For as far as the eye could see was Reid land. Most of the rugged landscape was outlined by the jagged peaks of the Bitterroot Mountains, formed by glaciers during the Ice Age. At this time of year the huge snowpack was melting, producing a massive water runoff, filling a myriad of streams and rivers carving their way through the valley floor.

  Kate stood in the yard surrounded by the majestic view. Next to her was his dad. They were both talking animatedly and laughing.

  His dad was laughing.

  It took Grif a moment to realize why he felt so shocked. It was because he couldn’t remember the last time he and his dad had laughed together.

  Maybe because they’d never laughed together.

  And yet Donald was out there playing the part of the charming rancher, laying it on thick, too, and Grif could only stare at the broad, genuine smile on his face. He’d never gotten any of that from the man, ever.

  It was Kate’s doing. She had a way of bringing the best out of someone. Whatever she was saying had his dad practically bent over with amusement. Then the two of them shook hands, and Donald walked off toward one of the barns.

  Kate leaned against the fencing and looked out at the land, hugging herself as if a little chilled. She wore a brightly colored skirt, navy blue tights tucked into boots, and another sweater, this one with a row of teeny-tiny buttons down the front. Her hair had been contained on top of her head, held there by a . . . pencil? Strands were trailing down the sides of her face and throat, all golden red silk against her skin.

  She didn’t look like any teacher he’d ever had, except maybe in his fantasy life. She’d certainly been his favorite fantasy last night, and everything about her—each smile, each sexy step, hell her every breath—put him in overdrive.

  Which meant they had a problem.

  Or at least he did.

  She turned her head and met Grif’s gaze through the window. Seeing him clearly surprised her—unpleasantly so, given the way her eyes widened slightly and then narrowed.

  Maybe she was remembering last night, too. He’d honestly believed he could actually resist her—until she’d kissed him. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but getting his mouth on hers had knocked his socks off. He’d never made a habit of turning women down, and turning this woman down had been far more difficult than he’d imagined, so he hoped like hell he got some sort of credit for acting like a gentleman.

  He sure as hell hadn’t walked away in his dreams afterward. Nope, he’d taken her right there in the den against the wall, with her cute little skirt up around her ears and the heels of those sexy boots digging into his ass, and it had been extremely mutually satisfying.

  He realized Kate’s gaze had fallen south. Grif looked down at himself and remembered—he’d slept in the buff and stood there in the window butt-ass naked.

  The sill hit right above his groin so she couldn’t see much, though her cheeks were flushed. Still, she didn’t play coy or shy and look away. Nope, it was him who moved, and he didn’t want to think about why as he yanked on clothes and headed outside.

  Kate had moved to the horse pens and was stroking a huge quarter horse named Woodrow. Woodrow was old as dirt, but he still had a thing for the ladies and was leaning heavily on Kate, sniffing out her pockets. This was making her laugh again, that soft, musical laugh that did things to Grif’s gut. Stopping with a good ten feet between them, he watched her a minute. Woodrow snotted on her skirt, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Hey,” he finally said.

  “Oh!” She jumped and then turned to face him. She still di