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  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I can’t see him anymore. My hands are tied.”

  “They are not. That’s about the dumbest thing I think I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve heard you say lots of dumb stuff.” Mindy shook her head. “Who cares about his supposed reputation? It could be fun, dating him. Why would you want to give up on something before it even started?”

  Jane’s entire body went cold. Why would she indeed? He might look like a total god but she was certainly no prize. She’d barely looked at herself naked in the mirror since the accident. Oh, she caught glimpses when she left the shower, but she always dodged the steamy mirror or wrapped her body tight in a towel

  When she couldn’t face her own body, how could she expose herself to a man? How could she expect him to react with anything but disgust? When he touched her face, her scars, how embarrassed she’d been, so ashamed. She could never be pretty again.

  “He’d realize he wouldn’t want me,” Jane finally murmured, feeling sorry for herself and hating herself for it all at once. She’d allowed a pity party or two when she first got out of the hospital, but she tried not to do it anymore. She needed to be tough—or at least to pretend to be.

  “Why do you sell yourself so short?” Mindy ducked her head so their gazes met, and Jane studied Mindy, really studied her. Looking at her sister reminded Jane of who she used to be. Older by four years, Mindy was blonde to Jane’s brown, their features similar but definitely not the same. They shared the same eye color, though, and the same laugh. And once upon a time, Jane had just as ample a chest as Mindy did.

  She’d lost so much weight after the accident that she was actually working on gaining some of it back now. And hopefully she’d gain her old figure back, too.

  “I used to have everything.” Jane cleared her throat. She’d never admitted this to anyone. “I had the handsome, successful husband. We lived in the perfect house in an affluent neighborhood and we had three beautiful children. I had friends, we belonged to a country club, and I went there five times a week for yoga or tennis.”

  Mindy wrinkled her nose, but Jane ignored her.

  “I had what I thought was the perfect life. I was no supermodel, but my friends and my husband considered me pretty. I felt pretty. I felt good about myself.”

  “You should still feel good about yourself,” Mindy encouraged. “You’ve lived through so much and come out the other end. You almost lost everything.”

  “I did lose everything. But I gained new things. A new life here in Lone Pine Lake, with my children and my family. And I realized a few things, too.” Jane leaned across the table. “My old life was a façade. The second the fire happened, none of those so-called friends rallied around me for support. Not one. And my perfect husband…he was a complete workaholic who often ignored his family. He worked long hours, through the weekends even, and we never saw him. Ever. He sacrificed everything for his career.”

  “Sounds like Marty,” Mindy muttered, and Jane reached across the table to rest her hand on top of her sister’s.

  “I hated it. Deep down inside, I was unhappy, but I never wanted to admit it. Always having to take care of everything, putting on this happy face and pretending life was wonderful. At the time, I just did it because I thought I had to. Now I realize how imperfect my perfect life was.”

  “What does this have to do with your turning down Chris?”

  Jane shrugged. She really didn’t know. It just felt good to get that all off her chest. But how did her past relate to her new present?

  “I can’t get caught up in a man and risk my heart again. Besides, consider what he does for a living. He puts his life on the line every day; just thinking about it gives me an anxiety attack. I need to be strong for my kids. I’m all they have.” Jane sat up straighter, proud of her answer.

  “I think you’ve been doing a fabulous job, being there for the children. And I think Chris could only enhance your life, despite what he does for a living. He’s a cautious guy. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “He can’t control everything that happens to him, you know.” He could get hurt. He could…die on the job. It happened; she knew it did. And she couldn’t go through that again. Couldn’t lose another man who worked his way inside her heart. She wouldn’t be able to bear it.

  “You have your children, your family, yourself. I think you’ll know better this time than to allow yourself to get caught up in a man.” Mindy turned to stare out the kitchen window. “I’ve done that. Marty has been my whole life for years, and he doesn’t care about me or the kids.”

  “That’s not true, Min—” Jane started, but her sister cut her off with a look.

  “It is true. I think he’s having an affair. I…I think he’s with her this weekend. I don’t have the proof but…I think he’s been seeing her for a while.” Mindy suddenly burst into tears, and Jane wanted to cry right along with her. But one of them needed to be strong, and right now, that was Jane’s role.

  “What are you going to do about it, hon?” she asked, rubbing her back.

  Mindy glared at her through the tears. “What can I do? He denies it every time I ask him, but I know he’s lying. I just wish I could catch him. He tells me he’s working late or is meeting colleagues for dinner, and when I call him a liar, he talks to me in this certain voice, like he’s my dad and I’m his stupid, defiant child. He makes me feel like I’m going crazy. I don’t know what to do.”

  Jane took her big sister in her arms and let Mindy cry it out. There was nothing she could say, no comforting words she could offer. Mindy needed to figure this out on her own.

  Seeing her sister like this reminded her of her past, of her old friends. So many of them had complained their husbands were cheaters, were completely uninterested in them. Jane never suspected Stephen of being involved with another woman, though; the only mistress in his life had been his career as the great and mighty corporate headhunter. He’d worked so hard to have all that success and by the age of thirty-one, he’d done it.

  He also died a short two months later.

  She didn’t want that sort of life. Never again. She was going to do things on her terms, and right now, Christian Nelson didn’t fit in her terms.

  Chapter Seven

  “Do you need any help? Tell me what I can do.” Jane stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her sister bustle to and fro, stirring pots, checking the oven, grabbing things out of the refrigerator.

  “You can keep Mom from coming in here. She’s still with all the kids in the playroom, right?” Mindy rubbed a hand over her forehead, mussing her hair. Her face was flushed, and she looked positively frantic. “You can take the pies out of the refrigerator in the garage so they thaw.”

  “Thaw?” Jane grabbed an olive and popped it into her mouth. She was starving, and Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t going to be on the table for at least another two hours.

  “I made the pies earlier this week and then froze them. Forgot to take all the pies out until last night and I can’t leave them on the counter. One of the kids or Marty would probably eat everything.” Mindy reached into the oven with both hands and brought out the giant turkey, setting the pan on top of the stove.

  Jane watched as her sister cut open the bag she’d cooked the bird in and dipped the turkey baster into the juice at the bottom, squirting it all over the top of the turkey.

  “This thing is going to be perfect. Ha!” Mindy shot Jane a triumphant grin. “Watch Mom eat her words.”

  “Yeah, she’ll eat her words, along with a mouthful of scrumptious turkey.”

  “Cook it all night at a low temperature my butt,” Mindy muttered as she shoved the turkey back into the oven. “This is the way to do it. Sunset magazine said so.”

  Jane laughed and started for the door that led out to the garage. “I’ll go get your pies.” She went out into the garage, dodging the tipped-over bikes and scooters scattered across the cement floor. The garage door was open, letting in the
brisk air and a view of dark, foreboding clouds hanging low in the sky.

  She shivered, tucked her sweater closer to her, and swung open the refrigerator door. The interior was packed with food, every kind of soda, and a couple of extra gallons of milk. Her sister knew how to stock up.

  Grabbing the two pumpkin pies that sat on the top shelf, Jane shut the door with a push of her elbow and glanced up to see her brother Mac pull into the drive.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Her feet froze in place and she watched, her mouth gaping open, as Mac climbed out of the driver’s side of the car and Chris withdrew from the passenger side. Of course, he caught sight of her standing there, mouth hanging open, a stack of pies clutched in her hands. She felt like a fool.

  “Hey, Janey! How’s it going?” Mac slammed his car door and approached her, a big grin on his face.

  “Hi, Mac.” Her voice was weak, her knees even more so as she watched Chris walk toward her, his gaze intense, locked on her face.

  As if he dared her to say something, anything.

  “You remember Chris, right?” Mac flicked his head toward his friend.

  Jane had to remind herself to close her mouth as a second wave of surprise coursed through her. So Chris hadn’t mentioned the time they spent together to her brother. Maybe she’d been right and he really hadn’t been that interested in her.

  She should be relieved. So why was she offended?

  “Of course. Hi, Chris.” She nodded at him, a polite smile on her face, and he flashed her one of those bone-melting grins right back.

  As if he knew how much he affected her. Which he probably did.

  “Hey, Jane. Want some help with those pies?”

  “I’ve got them, thanks.” She winced, hadn’t meant to sound so haughty. To make up for it, she decided to tease. “I’m worried if either of you got your hands on Mindy’s homemade pumpkin pie you might eat it all before we even got a chance to get it to the table.”

  Mac laughed and rubbed his hands together. “She’s right. Wait till you try them, Chris. My sister makes a better pie than my mom.” His expression turned somber. “But don’t ever tell my mom I said that.”

  They all laughed. As they entered the house, Chris seemed to lag back, following behind her. Too close behind, she thought as she set the pies on the counter. She glared at her sister, tried to silently communicate with her.

  Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?

  Mindy shrugged her shoulders helplessly. I didn’t know, she seemed to say.

  Jane fled the kitchen, went into the dining room to straighten up the table. Various appetizers were set out on plates and in bowls. Jane grabbed a couple of chips, a slice of cheese, trying to ease her growling, and now nervous, stomach.

  She could go into the living room, but all the men were in there watching football, and she’d never been a big fan. Or she could go check on the kids, but they’d all gathered in the playroom with her mother, who’d been banished from the kitchen. Mindy had wanted to take over the Thanksgiving holiday this year, demanding that their mom get a break. Though Jane secretly thought Mindy needed the distraction so she didn’t have to face the disaster her marriage had become. Marty had been sullen and antisocial since Jane and the kids had arrived this morning, so she’d simply avoided him.

  It was obvious he was unhappy. And so was Mindy. But Jane couldn’t do a thing about it.

  She grabbed another chip, sinking it into the creamy French onion dip before popping it in her mouth. Should she go check on the kids? She knew the family touch football game would start soon and her little ones would definitely play. Besides, they were happy hanging out with Grandma.

  Hopefully Mac and Chris would head into the living room, where they could drink beer and grunt at the big screen TV like the rest of the guys. That way she could avoid him until dinner was ready—and then she would just need to make sure she didn’t sit near him.

  Jane hadn’t seen Chris in almost two weeks. He’d been out of town for work and had called her that following Saturday, but she’d been busy watching Mindy’s kids. The conversation had been brief, polite, and with no indication of what happened between them the last time they’d seen each other.

  Yep, she’d avoided talking about it. A classic male move she’d learned from her dear late husband, as well as her brothers and father. And that was just the way she liked it.

  This past week, she’d been swamped with various Thanksgiving activities at the school and at home, plus helping Mindy prepare for today. While the holiday preparations had filled her with a wistfulness for days past, of happy occasions with her husband, children, and in-laws all together at her home, where she’d hosted the dinner every year since their marriage, the week’s activities had also been the perfect distraction, allowing her not to dwell on Chris. Or on what he might want from her.

  What did he want from her? She honestly didn’t know. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, either.

  You want nothing. Absolutely nothing. Remember that.

  Seeing him again made it very hard to remember that.

  “Hiding out?”

  Jane closed her eyes at the sound of his rumbling, deep voice, and she reached out to clutch at the edge of the table. This was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid, and yet here he was, standing right behind her.

  Opening her eyes, she whirled around to face him, a smile pasted on her face. “I’m hungry. I was looking for a snack.”

  “Looks like you found plenty.” Chris approached the table and stood next to her, his arm brushing against hers. She took a step sideways, arousal knocking into her stomach like a swift, hard punch. Just like that, her body reacted. And just like that, she wanted him. Wanted him to touch her, to kiss her, to tell her everything was going to be all right.

  God, she was weak when it came to this man. So weak it scared her.

  “Take your pick,” she offered, her voice shaky. She cleared her throat, hoping he didn’t notice.

  Daring to look up at him, she saw the intense glow in his golden eyes as he studied her, and she knew he hadn’t missed a beat. “I think you know what I want.”

  She backed away, afraid of the temptation after hearing him say those words. He reached for her, clasped her upper arm with long, firm fingers, and she stumbled, nearly fell into him.

  “Are you all right?” His brows drew down in concern. He was too close—way too close.

  She wrenched free from his grasp and took a step back, then another one. “I’m fine.”

  “Forget I said that, Jane. I’m not here to make you uncomfortable.” He grabbed a couple of tortilla chips and dipped one in salsa, then ate it.

  “Then why are you here?” She sounded accusatory, but couldn’t help it. It felt almost planned, his being here.

  “Mac invited me. He knew I had nowhere to go and had the time off. He didn’t want me to spend Thanksgiving alone. I probably would’ve ended up at the station.”

  “What do you mean you have nowhere to go?”

  His expression darkened, his eyes shuttered closed. Shutting her out. “I have no family close by. I’m a transplant, remember?”

  “You won’t go see them?”

  Chris shrugged. “My mom lives in Portland. She’s busy.”

  “And your dad?”

  “Is dead.”

  “Oh.” Remorse filled her for prying. It was none of her business; she felt as if she’d rubbed a sore spot. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right. It was a long time ago.” He smiled but his gaze remained dark. “I was an only child. I don’t come from a big family like yours.”

  “When I was little, my biggest dream was to be an only child. A few of my friends had no brothers or sisters, and they loved coming over to play at my house. But I always wanted to go over to theirs. I envied the quiet.” She’d go to sleep at night wishing she could wake up just once in her own bedroom, with no other siblings to deal with, her parents’ attention solely on her.

>   Jane had always felt lost in the shuffle, fourth out of five, the second girl and never a troublemaker. Mac had been the precious baby, Mindy had been the favored, dependable child. Patrick the responsible older brother and Cameron was the maverick.

  And then there was Jane. Poor plain Jane. That’s what they’d called her in elementary school.

  “How about now? Would you want to get rid of them?”

  “No.” Jane shook her head, thinking of how they’d supported her right after the accident, when she’d been in a medical-induced coma and unable to take care of her children, take care of anything. They’d been there for her, helping her parents, helping her, giving her so much. “I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

  “I envy you that,” Chris admitted quietly, and she wanted to ask him more questions. Why was his mother too busy to see him? When did his dad die and how? Was his relationship with his mother rocky? She couldn’t imagine having a bad relationship with her parents. Her mother drove her crazy, yes, but she loved her. She loved her father, too.

  “It looks like Mac has adopted you,” she said, wanting to avoid the heavy stuff. All of that would only make her fall for him even more, and she didn’t want to do that. She couldn’t.

  Chris smiled. “Your brother is a good guy, a good friend.”

  “He is a good guy,” Jane agreed. And he’d always been one to take in strays. As a child, he’d brought home endless injured animals or lost pets, begging their parents to allow them to stay. It looked as if Mac had carried the habit into adulthood.

  “Jane.” Christian took a step closer and she couldn’t move, nerves making her stomach flutter, her legs waver. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable by being here. Maybe you’re right. We should—forget what happened between us before and move forward. Consider each other a friend and that’s it.”

  She blinked, her eyes actually watery, and she turned away, afraid she might start to cry. “You’re right. It’s probably best.” She leaned over the table and brushed a few stray crumbs into her palm, then walked over to the makeshift garbage can Mindy had set up and dumped them into it. “I’m sure I’m not ready for something like this.”