Table for Two. Jennifer McKenzie

LAST TIME Mallory Ford had seen Travis Kincaid he’d had his face buried in another woman’s lap. That woman hadn’t been wearing panties.

      Normally Mal wouldn’t have felt anything except embarrassment and foolishness for not knocking first. But Travis had been in his office with the door unlocked and they’d broken up only an hour earlier. Her overriding emotion had, therefore, been anger. And although that had been more than a year ago, she still hadn’t forgiven him. She didn’t know a person who would have.

      Seeing him now, that same anger roiled up in her and made her want to dash the contents of her wineglass in his face and cut him down with some pithy commentary. The only thing that held her back was the fact that they were at her brother Owen’s backyard wedding reception. That and the fact that she was too couth to lower herself to name calling and wine tossing. She hoped.

      He looked good in his white shirt and pants. All the guests were wearing white, but Travis looked especially healthy, his tan a direct contrast to the pale clothing. Living in Aruba had clearly suited him. Mal fiddled with the hem of her own white dress—a lacy fitted number with long sleeves and a high neck—and turned away.

      She’d known Travis would be in attendance, seeing as he was best friends with Owen, but that didn’t mean she had to talk to him. Instead, she crossed the small patio to the side opposite Travis and joined a conversation with some old family friends she hadn’t seen in a while.

      The wedding and reception were about a quarter of the size of her oldest brother Donovan’s wedding, which had happened in January, but the less formal event suited Owen and his new bride, Grace. Her parents owned the gorgeous farm they were on now. The ceremony had been out beside a small pond while the sun set and the reception was in their backyard, which felt as luxurious and stylish as anything in the city. The forest of trees behind them, the overhead heaters and the lights strung around the space created a magical environment. It helped that Grace was a professional wedding planner and her team had taken over all the decor.

      The space felt warm and cozy. Welcoming. And it gave Mal the chance to chat with some of the people she’d missed at Donovan’s nuptials.

      That was until Owen came and dragged her away.

      “Owen.” She stumbled over a root as he sped up. “What are you doing? I was talking to those people.”

      “It’s my wedding. I’m allowed to steal you.” But he did slow his stride enough that she was no longer worried about breaking an ankle.

      Mal glanced up from her feet, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Owen was on a mission. With her. One that was leading straight toward Travis Kincaid.

      She sucked in a breath and dug her nails into her brother’s arm. No. No way.

      Travis looked over at her, his expression a mixture of nerves and yearning. And hunger. Mal felt a shiver work its way over her body. She remembered that hunger, how it overwhelmed and devoured. How much she used to love it. She stopped walking.

      Owen looked down at her. “I’d like to see the two of you talk.”

      Mal swallowed and shook her head. She didn’t want to talk to him. But when she tried to take a step back, to return to the safety of her earlier conversation and location, Owen gave her a small nudge.

      “You can do whatever you want after, but talk now.”

      Mal stared at him. How could he do this to her? He knew things were over between her and Travis. Granted, he didn’t know all the details because she’d never told anyone. She’d been too embarrassed at first and then she’d just wanted to forget everything. And, okay, she’d sent Owen to see Travis when he’d needed a friend, but that didn’t mean she was fine with Travis, that she was ready for a nice little chat and all was forgiven.

      Owen’s expression softened, turned imploring. “Consider it my wedding gift.”

      “I already bought you something.” A set of matching leather luggage packed with monogrammed robes and a trip to a weekend spa getaway in Napa Valley. Owen and Grace both worked long hours and Mal knew this was one way to ensure they’d take a few days for themselves when they needed it.

      Owen put his hand over hers. “I’d rather have this. For both of you.” He started walking again.

      Mal was forced to walk with him or end up being dragged behind him. Not exactly the elegant and cool image she wanted to project. But she didn’t feel cool at all. Not even the breezy spring evening helped. She felt the beads of sweat forming on her spine as they took the last few steps to come to a stop in front of Travis.

      He reached up to loosen his collar. But his clear display of nerves didn’t lessen her own or make her feel any better. Mal swallowed and blinked when Owen let go of her hand and started to walk away.

      “Where are you going?” she called after him.

      “I’ve got a date,” he called back. “With my wife.” Mal watched him cross the yard to where his lovely wife stood with a group of friends. He took hold of her hand and led her around the side of the house, out of sight.

      Mal watched for a moment longer, waiting to see if Owen would reappear, this time with Grace to add a little social lubrication to ease the awkward situation he’d placed her in—but he didn’t. She wanted to turn and walk away, too, to go anywhere, talk to anyone else, but good manners and her well-developed sense of pride compelled her to stay where she was.

      “Travis.” Even saying his name hurt.

      “Hello, Mal.” His voice was the same, that low blend of heat and roughness. It threatened to take her out at the knees. She locked them, determined to keep them firm beneath her. “Nice night.”

      She stared at him. Was that all he had to say? This was what Owen had dragged her over to hear? She nodded and waited.

      “It’s good to see you.”

      She didn’t respond in kind—because it wasn’t good to see him. She felt naked, exposed, as if everything she was thinking or feeling was bared for anyone to see. And none of it was anything she felt comfortable sharing. “Right. Well, if you’ll excuse me.” She moved to go, to leave and never return.

      His voice stopped her. “Mal.”

      She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath of woods and earth. She didn’t want to do this. Not even a little. She turned back and looked at him. “What do you want, Travis?” She saw no need to play coy or to act like things were anything other than they were.

      “Just to talk.” He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. Distance that Mal liked right where it was.

      She wrapped her arms around her body. “I don’t think there’s anything to say.” Not on her end, at least. She’d said what she needed to over a year ago.

      He ran a hand through his dark hair, a familiar gesture. He was upset and anxious. Well, too bad. So was she and she hadn’t done anything wrong. “Will you at least let me apologize?”

      “Why?” She steeled herself against the sorrow in his gray eyes—he’d brought it all on himself. “Why now? And why bother?” He’d had plenty of time to make amends, to atone. Instead, he’d left her alone—radio silence.

      “Because I want to.”

      Because he wanted to? What about what she wanted? To be left alone to live her life without the painful memories that seeing him brought. She gave her head an airy toss. “I’m over it, Travis. You don’t need to apologize.” She held her body tight, her arms close, careful to let no part of her even hint at touching him.

      But he didn’t back off. “Mal, I know things ended badly.”

      She did not want to talk about this. Not at her brother’s wedding reception. Not ever, in fact. “Travis, there’s nothing to talk about.”

      In her mind, there wasn’t. She’d needed to stay in Vancouver and help