Big Sky Baby. Judy Duarte

grip, Jilly told herself. It’s only Jeff.

      “I hope you stopped by to give me a hug,” she said, trying desperately to thwart a runaway sexual attraction to her friend.

      That’s right. Her friend.

      “It’s good to see you, Jilly.” His deep voice settled around her, cloaking her in crushed velvet and causing her heart to slip a gear before jetting into overdrive.

      She dropped a sprig of greenery on the table and dashed into his arms, eager to feel his familiar embrace.

      He lifted her from the floor as though she were merely a rag doll, and a musky, woodsy scent accosted her. She struggled to act nonchalant, unaffected by his touch.

      Who was this gorgeous guy? And what had he done with her best friend?

      “I missed you,” she said, although she hadn’t realized how much until he’d walked in the door. “Maybe I should hang on tight so you can’t get away.”

      Jeff held Jilly close, savoring the earthy scent of flowers and spice. It had been too damn long since he’d seen the little brown-haired girl with the chipped-tooth smile.

      He’d missed her, too.

      When he left Rumor five years ago, he had no intention of coming back, other than for visits. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his family and friends, but he’d been born with a case of wanderlust and an intrinsic love of flying. By the time he was sixteen, when he’d taken control of his very first plane, a yellow Piper Cub, his course had been set.

      “It’s good to have you home,” she said.

      “I’m not home. Not really.”

      They both knew it was the fire that began near Rumor and continued to rage in the Custer National Forest that had called him back to town indefinitely.

      As part of the Modular Airborne Firefighting System, or MAFFS, Jeff had been ordered to report to the fire command center before dawn tomorrow, but he made time for a quick detour by Jilly’s Lilies to see his old friend.

      God, he’d missed her. Missed her smile, her happy laugh. Missed the tales of her adventures or—more often than not—her misadventures.

      Looking out for her had been a job he’d accepted a long time ago, and after five years of hearing her voice and reading her e-mails, he enjoyed holding her close.

      In fact, he was enjoying it way too much.

      Before she pummeled his back with her fist, begged to be put down and asked if he’d gone stark-raving nuts, Jeff released his hold and set her feet upon the floor.

      He hoped she didn’t suspect he’d found the hug far more stimulating than was appropriate, but for some reason she felt good in his arms. Damn good.

      As Jilly stood before him, wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans—nothing fancy—he couldn’t help but stare. She wasn’t the same skinny kid he’d remembered. She’d grown up and filled out in an alluring, womanly way.

      Her brown eyes glimmered like a pool of melted chocolate, drawing him deep into her gaze. He seemed to flounder there for a while.

      “What’s the matter?” she asked.

      Hell, he didn’t really know. Or maybe he did and wasn’t ready to face the truth. “You’ve changed.”

      “So have you.” Her mouth quirked into a silly grin, but he couldn’t seem to find any humor in the bodily reaction that stirred his hormones and heated his blood.

      The girl he remembered was gone, replaced by a woman with an earthy sex appeal he’d never noticed. No wonder Cain Kincaid—the horn dog of the fire department—had chased after her, nose sniffing and tail wagging.

      Jilly batted his arm. “What’s the matter?”

      “Nothing.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Something was the matter, but he wasn’t sure what.

      Had her breasts always been that…full? Or maybe it was just the form-fitting shirt she wore. His gaze traveled down to the jeans that hugged her hips, then he caught himself.

      For cripe’s sake, Jilly was his best friend, not some woman he was trying to hit on.

      She brushed a hand across her cheek, pushing aside a silky strand of honey-brown hair, and smiled at him in a shy sort of way.

      He supposed she was feeling a bit awkward, like he was, which was odd. They’d always been comfortable with each other, like a brother and sister who enjoyed being together, in spite of occasional squabbles.

      “Are you hungry?”

      Chocolate-brown eyes. Honey-colored hair. His appetite had been stirred, that was for sure, but she was talking about food. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I suppose so. What do you have in mind?”

      “I put a roast in the Crock-Pot at home. If you give me a minute to lock up, we can go to my place and catch up on things.”

      His aunt and uncle would probably shoot him if they found out he’d stopped by Jilly’s before going out to the ranch. Of course, they’d given up on lecturing him ages ago, after that visit to the shrink in Billings.

      Jeff couldn’t remember the good doctor’s name, but the guy had told his aunt to ease up on him. And she had, especially where Jilly was concerned.

      “A home-cooked meal sounds good,” Jeff said. “Besides, I’d like to see your house.”

      “I thought you would.” Jilly offered him a smile, then grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, sending a burst of heat pulsing through his blood. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

      Yeah. Let’s.

      They took separate cars, since Jeff couldn’t stay long. But he was looking forward to seeing the little house on Lost Lane he’d encouraged her to buy. It was a fixer-upper in the better part of town, and Jeff had known it would increase in value with a little paint, some elbow grease and Jilly’s artistic knack.

      Jilly arrived first, opened the door, then dashed inside, while Jeff lagged behind.

      The faint scent of ash and smoke laced the air, reminding him of the destruction the fire had ravished on the forestlands outside of town, the job he had to do tomorrow. He’d often flown out with MAFFS, fighting a number of devastating blazes, but he had a personal stake in this one, since it was so close to Rumor.

      He’d no more than stepped into a spacious living room that needed more furniture, when a bark sounded and a scruffy blur raced into view like a miniature tornado.

      “Look, Posey. We’ve got company.” Jilly stooped to pick up the small, scruffy dog. Well, it sounded like a dog, but it looked more like an automated dust mop minus the stick.

      Jeff laughed. “Where did you find that thing?”

      “That thing?” She lifted a brow and frowned. “You’ll hurt her feelings. This is Posey, the best friend I’ve got. Other than you, of course.”

      The ugly little dust mop wiggled in her arms, licking her face.

      She always did like strays—dogs, cats, a guy like Cain Kincaid, whose sole purpose in life was to jump the bones of every woman in the county.

      “What do you think?” she asked.

      About what? The fact she’d finally listened to his repeated advice and dumped Cain a couple of months ago?

      “I’ve still got a lot to do, but the house is coming together.”

      Jeff scanned the mint-green living room, noting the faint smell of fresh paint. She’d decorated the windows with lacy curtains he suspected were handmade.

      A floral sofa and a beige easy chair completed the sparse furnishings, but he figured she could pick up additional furniture later, one piece at a time.

      He shot