was flashing before her eyes because of it.
A life that everyone in Paradise had known about. A life Ava had left four years ago.
A life she’d thought about every day since then in her small apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.
The dated air conditioner against the ratty lavender wall sputtered and coughed as the Texas heat slowly invaded the room. Ava eyeballed her sister in the mirror. “I thought you said he was going to be in Dallas for the entire two weeks, Rita. ‘I have it on good authority,’ you said. ‘I swear, you’ll never run into him,’ you said.”
Rita shrugged. “Hey, what can I say, big sister? That’s what he told Pat Murphy at the post office.” She grinned, then placed a bridal veil over her face. “Maybe he heard you were back in town for my wedding and changed his mind.”
Mrs. Benton inhaled sharply, then looked up at Ava with eager, expectant eyes.
“Not a chance.” Ava glanced from one woman to the other. “The man despises me.”
“Despise is such a strong word,” Rita said.
“I think we should stop talking about her old beau for a moment,” Mrs. Benton said to Rita. “She’s moving about and I need to get a clean hem here. I sure don’t want to be the one catching heck if your maid of honor walks down the aisle in a crooked dress.”
Rita smiled at the woman. “How about I blame it on a certain six-foot-three Cheyenne god with a killer smile?”
Ava rolled her eyes. “He’s half Cheyenne.”
“And what a half,” Mrs Benton said on a sigh, then quickly returned to her hem.
Nothing had changed, Ava mused. The women of Paradise still drooled over Jared Redwolf. But were they still too afraid to show it? she wondered. Now that he was a millionaire and a financial genius with famous clients flying into to see him every week, were the ladies in town willing to overlook his heritage?
The scent of an old wedding bouquet hanging from the ceiling permeated the increasingly humid air. Johnny Mathis crooned a plaintive love song on a small radio in the corner. And Ava felt as though she were suffocating inside her pretty satin bridesmaid dress.
Jared was at the diner. So close by she could almost feel him, breathe in that heady scent of sun and sweat he always possessed. She wanted to see him, God help her. But she knew how dangerous that would be. He would have questions and he would demand answers. Lord, what if he’d already heard she was back in town?
Beads of sweat trailed a path down her neck. She needed to get out of the shop. She couldn’t risk running into him, not yet anyway. Not until she was ready to tell him about…
She swallowed the thought, looked down at Mrs. Benton. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. B., but I’ll have to come back later.”
The older woman frowned. “What? Why?”
“I have to go back to Rita’s.”
“For what?” Rita asked quickly.
“I need to check on—”
The bell located above the door of the shop’s front entrance chimed merrily, interrupting Ava’s bogus explanation. She glanced up into the three-sided mirror to see who had come in. Through the generous slit in the curtain behind her, she glimpsed a man walking through the shop door like he owned the place, as though the modest storefront was too small to contain him.
Ava froze, but against her ribs her heart pounded violently. Just ten seconds more and she would’ve escaped him.
Jared Redwolf.
Without thinking, she reached up and released her long, blond hair from the rubber band that had held it tightly in place all morning.
Jared was here. Though to her, he’d never left—her memory or her thoughts—for the four years she’d been away from Paradise.
Time seemed to slow. She put a hand to her mouth and exhaled, swearing that she could still feel the pressure of his lips on hers as he raked his callused palms up the bare skin of her back.
She tried to swallow, tried to breathe correctly. But it took significant effort. After all, she hadn’t seen him face-to-face in such a long time, and this was not how she’d imagined their reunion.
“I’ll be out to help you in a minute,” Mrs. Benton called, without looking up as she fitted another pin, no doubt hoping to finish Ava’s dress before she could run away.
But Ava was going nowhere at the moment. She was bolted to the pedestal, watching Jared as he stopped at a display of bolo ties, handling one in particular with great reverence. She felt free to look at him because she knew he hadn’t noticed her through the slit in the curtain.
Free, but certainly not easy.
Her back to him, she just stared into the mirror, her gaze moving over him like an animal who hadn’t seen food in days. Like the first day she’d seen him driving cattle on her father’s ranch—bulging muscle and covered in sweat as he sat atop the fierce palomino he’d broken himself.
He’d taken her breath away.
If it was possible, he looked even more handsome today than she remembered. Dressed more like a cowboy than a multimillion dollar businessman in a blue chambray shirt, faded jeans and boots, he was easily the best looking man in Texas. Who was she kidding? He was the best looking man in the world. He was far past six feet now, with a man’s body. Long and lean and hard. He’d let his thick, black hair grow past his shoulders, his high cheekbones were more prominent and his eyes, those heavy-lidded steel-gray eyes that charmed, thrilled and terrified you all at the same time, were cool and calm.
But of course, he hadn’t seen her yet.
“Just here to return the tux, Mrs. Benton,” he called out.
Rita gasped at the voice that was far lower, but just as seductive as Ava had remembered. So did Mrs. Benton, but she quickly recovered before calling out, “You can bring it back here, Jared. We’re all decent.”
“No.” Ava fairly cried at the woman, panic welling up inside her.
Rita reached up and touched her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. But the gesture helped little. Ava felt as if her chest would burst. She couldn’t see him now, or ever again.
Her gaze darted right and left as she searched for somewhere to hide, but there wasn’t time. He was coming.
Every muscle in her body tensed.
Not now. Not like this.
But the white curtain parted anyway and Jared Redwolf walked into the circular space, a dark garment bag slung over one broad shoulder. Ava felt her breath catch at the sight of him, so dark and masculine, bracketed on both sides by pure femininity: racks of snowy-white wedding dresses. What would he think when he saw her? she wondered, apprehension threatening to choke her as she turned to face him. What would he say?
The only sign that Jared Redwolf wasn’t a full-blooded Cheyenne was his full lips, but when his gaze landed on Ava those lips thinned
