The Road to Reunion. GINA WILKINS

in silence.

      “Two girls. Annie and Lucy. They’ve taken my place as the little girls all the boys become big brothers to.”

      Fifteen years older than Molly, Shane had been a grown man when Kyle lived on the ranch. Shane had already built his house on the property and had been busy with his own life and friends—among them, Kelly Morrison, whom he had married not long after Kyle left.

      “The girls have Shane—and Daddy—wrapped around their little fingers,” she added with a chuckle.

      “That doesn’t surprise me. So did you.”

      “I know.” She smiled unrepentantly. “I was shamelessly spoiled—and now Shane’s girls are being treated the same way. It’s a good thing Kelly is more like my mom when it comes to being the disciplinarian, or Annie and Lucy would be little brats.”

      Kyle poured the strained, hot pasta into a bowl. “I saw your dad lay down the law to you a few times.”

      “Let’s just say I knew exactly how much I could get away with before he drew the line. He got a bit more strict with me as I got older.”

      “I’ll bet.”

      Had that been a note of amusement in his voice? Encouraged, she carried the salad to the round oak table that sat at one end of the narrow kitchen. “It’s funny, but when it comes to the foster boys, Dad’s the disciplinarian and Mom’s the one who spoils them.”

      “I remember that, too.”

      “He knows so well what it was like to be an angry teenager, separated from his family and shuffled from one foster home to another. He knows what it takes to get through that anger and give the boys hope for their futures. His record of success has been amazing.”

      Kyle had the table set now with plain, mismatched dishes and sturdy flatware. Without asking, he filled two glass tumblers with ice and water, setting them on the table along with the bowl of pasta and a plate of bread.

      The rain was still falling heavily outside, and for some reason the sound of it hitting the windows made their simple dinner seem more intimate. Falling back on her usual habit, Molly started talking again to ward off any awkward silence.

      “I’ve never been to this part of the country before. It’s really beautiful. How did you happen to end up here?”

      Concentrating on his dinner, he shrugged. “I visited the area with a buddy and I liked it. When I had to choose a place to live after I got out of the Marines, I decided to come here.”

      “I like your house.”

      “It’s small,” he said. “Needs some repairs. A little isolated for some people’s tastes. But it was affordable and it suited me.”

      “I think it’s great,” she assured him, entirely sincere. “The view alone is priceless. As for the location, it’s not so very far from Gatlinburg.”

      He glanced at the window and the storm that raged outside. “Sometimes it seems farther than at other times.”

      Like now, for example, his tone implied. With the storms making the roads so hazardous, the closest town might as well be hours away.

      After they’d cleared away the dishes, Kyle looked at the window again. “It looks to me as though you have two choices. I can try to drive you back down the mountain, or you can spend the night here and leave in the morning.”

      She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “You neglected to mention the third choice. I can drive myself down the mountain.”

      “Not an option.”

      “Why not? If it’s safe for you to drive…”

      “I didn’t say it was safe. It would be a reckless and foolhardy drive with me at the wheel—and I know this mountain like the back of my hand. You’d never make it down. The best solution is for you to stay here tonight—but if that’s unacceptable to you, I’ll drive you.”

      “Why would it be unacceptable to me?”

      He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t blame you if you have reservations about spending the night in a house with someone you barely know….”

      She couldn’t help laughing, though she doubted he would share her amusement. “Give me a break. I’m not worried about being here with you.”

      His sigh seemed to hold sheer exasperation. “Do you have no sense of self-preservation? You set off on a crazy, solo drive halfway across the country without telling anyone, then have no qualms at all about spending the night with a total stranger in an isolated house on a mountainside?”

      “Kyle, you are not a total stranger. You were a member of my family for more than a year.”

      “I was never a member of your family. I just lived there for a while when I had nowhere else to go.”

      With that, he turned on one heel and stalked into the other room. Molly took a moment to admire how fluidly he moved, despite the limp—kind of a sexy, rolling gait that made her pulse rate increase before she shook her head and started after him. “So are you telling me I should be worried about staying here with you?”

      “No, of course not,” he snapped impatiently, throwing himself into a chair. “You’re perfectly safe with me.”

      “So, what’s your point?” She planted her hands on her hips to study him.

      “The point is—hell, I can’t remember.” Slouching in the chair, he glared at his feet.

      “Okay, then.” She dropped her arms. “Since I have no intention of risking either of our lives on the road, I might as well crash here until the storm’s over. I’ll take the couch.”

      “Damn straight.”

      She giggled, even though she knew he wasn’t joking. Funny how he could annoy her at one moment and amuse her at the next. Rather like Shane—except that she didn’t in any way think of Kyle as a brother.

      “I have a computer in my bedroom,” he said, still looking grumpy. “You can send your brother an e-mail, if you want to.”

      “That’s not necessary. He isn’t expecting to hear from me today.”

      He shrugged. “Whatever you think best.”

      Exactly what she liked to hear—that someone thought she knew what was best for her. “I’ll call him tomorrow morning, as soon as I have a cell phone signal.”

      “Fine.” He glanced at a clock on the wall—the only thing he’d bothered to hang on the white-painted Sheet-rock. “I don’t know if you’re interested in football, but there’s a college game starting, and I was planning to watch.”

      “Go ahead and watch your game. You don’t have to entertain me.”

      “I didn’t intend to,” he replied, reaching for the remote to the big-screen TV in one corner of the room— the only luxury he had apparently treated himself to. A few minutes later, he was engrossed in the game, leav ing Molly to wonder if he was even aware that he still had company.

      She wondered if his rudeness was his odd way of reassuring her that she really was safe from any unwanted advances from him. If so, she could have told him it wasn’t necessary. Maybe her libido had kicked into overdrive when she had watched him cross the room, but he seemed totally oblivious to her, other than as an inconvenience.

      She stood and wandered toward the windows, debating whether she wanted to risk going out to her car for her bag. A painfully loud clap of thunder and a gust of wind-driven rain answered that question.

      One corner of Kyle’s living room held a small bookcase, overflowing with paperbacks stacked two deep on the shelves. Since he was making so little effort to play the gracious host, she figured that relieved her of some of the rules of etiquette, as well.

      Without