The Ranch She Left Behind. Kathleen O'Brien

collected a stray French fry when he heard the woman get out of her car and clear her throat.

      â€œI...I...” She started over. “You...”

      Poor thing. She sounded as if she might struggle with a stammer.

      â€œHi,” he began, turning with a smile. The rest of his greeting died on his lips. Standing in front of him was the woman from the ice-cream store.

      It couldn’t be. But...

      It also couldn’t be anyone else. Even without the same cute dress, silly boots, shining hair...he would never forget that face.

      For a split second, the shock left him mildly uncomfortable. The encounter earlier had been so random, so strange. It had been over in less than a minute, and she’d disappeared suddenly, without a word, as if embarrassed by her boldness.

      So how had she found him again? She didn’t know his name—he didn’t know hers. He hadn’t told the soda jerk anything about his plans. And yet, out of nowhere, this same woman pulled up in his driveway a few hours later?

      How was it possible? Silverdell wasn’t that small.

      Was there any chance this sweet-faced young woman was...

      Stalking him?

      â€œWow. This is so awkward I honestly don’t know what to say.” The woman shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, as if she hoped that when she opened them, he wouldn’t be standing there.

      But of course he was.

      â€œOkay. So I guess you have to be Mr. Thorpe. You’re here early. I mean, that’s fine. It’s just that...I wasn’t even considering the possibility that my tenant might already be in Silverdell. Before, I mean. Earlier, I mean. When I...”

      She took a deep breath, held out her hand and managed a smile. “I guess I should properly introduce myself, even if it’s a little late. I’m Penny Wright. I’m your...your....”

      He took her hand. “My landlady?”

      She nodded. “I cannot tell you what an idiot I feel. If I had considered, even for a second, that you...that we...”

      She flushed, starting at the neck, which wasn’t very helpful, because it caused Max to focus on the graceful column of her throat. His gaze followed the pink stain up, as it spread across the delicate jawline, and then her cheeks.

      And, just like that, there it was again—the hot, helpless, fourteen-year-old feeling. He wanted to kiss that pulsing spot where her throat met her chin—and at the same time he wanted to be the white knight who knew exactly what to say to make her feel better.

      But he couldn’t do either one, because he was too busy hoping she couldn’t tell what she did to him...physically. He realized he still held her hand, and he let it go as nonchalantly as he could.

      He fought down the sensation. This was ridiculous. The both of them, grown adults, standing here temporarily reduced to blithering idiots—all over a casual kiss. A quick, closed-mouth kiss between total strangers that had meant absolutely nothing.

      Get a grip, Thorpe.

      â€œYou shouldn’t feel foolish,” he said, smiling. “It was very sweet, and I didn’t mind a bit. But if you’d rather, we could agree that it never happened.”

      She nodded eagerly. “If we could, if you would...I mean, that would be terrific. I’d appreciate it. So much. That’s not really me. I mean, I don’t do things like that, ordinarily. It was just—just this silly thing I did because...you see, I was making this crazy list, and—”

      He was loving the stumbling explanation, and wondering whether he might have grown too cynical, through the years. This innocent honesty didn’t look like a sham. This looked like the real thing. An adorable, awkward naïveté.

      But her cascade of half sentences was cut off by the arrival of more vehicles, which pulled up in a caravan and jockeyed one at a time for parking space in the street just outside the duplex. Max looked first at the newcomers—a late-model pickup truck, a hybrid SUV and a wildly expensive sports car. Then he looked at Penny, whose expressive face was registering both surprise and annoyance.

      â€œOh, my goodness, they are impossible! I should never have told them the address!” She glanced at Max apologetically. “My family. I told them not to come, but they’re...well, they hover. They mean well, but—”

      â€œHey! Penny!” A tall blond man in a suit hopped out of the truck, strode over and scooped Penny into his embrace. “What a surprise, kiddo! Ro called and she said we needed to get over here ASAP to help.”

      â€œDallas!” Penny’s annoyance seemed to fade as she accepted his hug. Max watched curiously, trying to sort out the relationships. Whoever this was, she liked him. Brother, maybe? But there wasn’t much resemblance.

      â€œI’m sorry you had to come,” she said. “I’m perfectly fine on my own. There’s really nothing to be done. My furniture won’t arrive until tomorrow.”

      â€œAh, but that seems to be the problem. They can’t stand the idea of you camping out on a sleeping bag. Ro and Bree are mobilizing a small army to make this place homey. The SUV is loaded with food, supplies, blow-up mattress, books, shampoos, and there may even be a lawn mower back there. You’ll be lucky if they don’t start hanging wallpaper before it gets dark.”

      Penny groaned. But then she seemed to remember her manners. She stepped back from the hug, and, putting her hand on the man’s arm, included Max in her smile.

      â€œDallas, this is my tenant, Max Thorpe. We’ve just met, this very minute. Max, this is my brother-in-law, Dallas Garwood.”

      Max shook Dallas’s hand, noting the sharp scrutiny the blue-eyed man gave him and meeting it with a bland smile and a slightly raised brow. Dallas Garwood was the distrustful type? But what about Max made him suspicious in the first place?

      â€œNice to meet you, Dallas,” he said politely.

      Another man had stepped out of the jazzy sports car and was making his way over. His greeting was warm, but a bit more restrained, as if he weren’t quite as close to Penny as Dallas was.

      â€œHey, Penny. I’m Gray, and—”

      â€œGray!” Dallas thumped the newcomer on the shoulder. “Penny, it’s hard to believe you haven’t met Gray. He’s been underfoot for months now. He’s been dying to meet you, because somehow he’s decided you’re the only one who can persuade Bree to set a wedding date.”

      Penny accepted a hug from the second man, and then rather stiltedly attempted to introduce him to Max, too.

      â€œGrayson Harper, this is Max Thorpe, my tenant. Max, Gray is my sister Bree’s—”

      â€œFiancé,” Gray said, stepping forward to help smooth over Penny’s uncertainty about the label. He shook Max’s hand, and again Max was aware of getting a steely-eyed, mildly threatening appraisal.

      You’d better be a good guy, the stare said. You’d better not mess with our Penny.

      Damn. Max wondered whether he had picked up some kind of scary stain that looked like blood while he was in the basement. Surely he didn’t give off a serial killer vibe, did he? He was just a road-weary dad in jeans and a suede jacket, holding his daughter’s Vampire High pulp novel, and a bubblegum-blue Slurpee cup. How dangerous could he possibly look?

      â€œNice to meet you, Gray,” he said with a deliberately cool tone. He met the aggressive gaze without blinking.

      Commotion