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Texas Heat

The Blake Boys Book Four

Rhonda Laurel

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious
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Published By
Etopia Press
1643 Warwick Ave., #124
Warwick, RI 02889
http://www.etopia-press.net
Texas Heat
Copyright © 2014 by Rhonda Laurel
ISBN: 978-1-940223-97-1
Edited by Lauren Triola
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied
in critical articles and reviews.
First Etopia Press electronic publication: April 2014

~ Dedication ~

To Tate and Isabelle, thanks for making beautiful music together.

Chapter One

The sounds of laughter coming from the bathroom in his hotel suite jolted Tate

McGill out of his sleep. He’d had a wild night at the Epic Music Awards, and from the
throbbing of his head, it was probably a night he’d want to remember.

The mysterious guest in the bathroom began to sing bits of “Down-Home City Girl,”

the song he’d performed last night with Lana McNeal. Holy crap! He prayed it wasn’t
Lana in there. The singer was beautiful, but she was damn near half his age. He’d kept
his eyes on the young starlet’s face and his hands on his guitar while trying to ignore the
two unrehearsed waist grabs and Lana pressing herself against his body several times
during the performance.

Tate ran a hand through his curly blond hair and got out of bed. It was time to put

himself out of his misery and find out who was in his bathroom. He took a few steps and
nearly fell, tripping over his Epic Award that was partially hidden beneath his jeans on
the floor. Damn, hopefully there was some aspirin in his shaving kit. He pushed open the
door to the steam-filled bathroom only to hear giggling coming from the shower stall. He
could see the silhouette of a tall, slender woman with full breasts. His cock twitched as
he watched her lather herself. This could have been an enjoyable moment if only he
could remember her name.

Damnit! How could he forget? That was the million-dollar question. He’d celebrated

pretty hard with his entourage after the surprise win. Truth be told, he hadn’t bothered
remembering a woman’s name in a long time. After a good time, he’d say a tender good-
bye while walking her to the door, promising to write a song about her. For some reason
every woman he met wanted a song written about their two ships passing in the night.

Perhaps her name started with a C? Candice, Clementine, Christy, Connie, or maybe

Carlotta? Tate opened the stall door and, to his surprise, there was not one woman but
two in the stall washing each other. Tate’s mouth went dry, and his cock did a full salute.
The shorter of the two women pulled him into the shower, sandwiching him between
them.

“We were going to get back in bed and wake you up.” The woman who’d pulled him

in pouted.

Tate smiled. “Ladies, no way would I have missed this.”
The woman behind him took a loofah sponge and began lathering him up. “You had

a big night. It’s only fair we clean you up.”

Tate closed his eyes as four nimble hands began to roam all over his body. He

thanked his lucky stars he had a brand new box of condoms in his shaving kit. And if he
was lucky, he’d get to use every one of them today.

* * *

Tate bid the ladies farewell early that evening and began to pack his bags. Being

nestled between two beautiful women for the better part of the day was just what he’d
needed to unwind. As predicted, they asked if their rendezvous would be on his next CD.
He promised them he’d scribble a tune about their delightfully erotic time together,
hustled them out the door, then called room service and ordered dinner. It was time for
his daily call to his nephew Jake.

Jake was only a year old, but Tate wanted him to know at an early age that Uncle

Tate kept his word. It was eight o’clock in Philadelphia. Jake should be getting ready for
bed. Tate scanned his phone for the video conferencing app and hit dial.

Morgan’s face appeared on his screen. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you, darlin’. How are you?”
“I am doing great. Just gave Jake his bath, and Seth is going to fix me a bowl of mint

chocolate chip ice cream.” Morgan rubbed her flat tummy.

Tate laughed. “Having cravings already?”
“Nah.” She sighed. “But Seth is on an expectant daddy rampage, and feeding me ice

cream makes him feel better.”

“Ah, then you won’t want none of this filet mignon I’m eating.” He waved a piece at

her.

Morgan scrunched up her nose. “That’s pretty fancy for you.”
“It’s this fancy hotel I’m in. What decent restaurant doesn’t have a porterhouse on

their menu?” He sniffed.

“I know! How dare they make the winner of the Best Collaborative Song of the Year

eat dainty fixin’s?” She stuck her tongue out at him.

Tate laughed and swigged his beer. “How’s the big man?”
“Never seen him this happy.” Morgan put her hand on her cheek.
Tate nodded. “He has everything he needs. A beautiful woman, great family, new fat

contract, and five more years with his team before he retires.”

“Stop flirting with my woman, McGill!” Seth yelled from the other room.
“He always hears when I’m talking about you. Sometimes I think he’s part robot.”
Morgan just shook her head and ignored Seth. “So did Lana McNeal place you under

citizen’s arrest before she frisked you on stage?”

“I thought I was going to have to do the jitterbug just to get away from her.”
“I sent her a message via her social media account, asking if she found what she was

looking for in your pants.”

“You didn’t!” Tate let out a deep chuckle.
“Yes, I did. Nobody molests by brother-in-law on national television and gets away

with it.”

“Uncle Tate!” Jake appeared from nowhere and grabbed the phone.
Tate loved talking to him. They talked mostly about Jake’s dog, Rowdy, who lived at

the ranch in Texas, and his fascination with race cars, no thanks to Tate’s brother Tyler.
After about a half hour of chatter and four I love yous, Jake was ready for bed and gave
Seth the phone. Morgan carried Jake away.

“Had a wild night last night?” Seth raised an eyebrow.
Tate’s cheeks reddened. “How can you tell?”
“I can always tell when you’ve had too much liquor or too much sex. By the looks of

it, you had too much of both.” Seth burst out laughing.

“Let me tell you…”
“No, you can’t.” Seth shook his head. “I’d like to have sex again this month.”
“What?”
“Every time you tell me about one of your escapades, somehow I get punished for it,

but you get a heartfelt speech about finding the right woman.” Seth folded his arms over
his chest.

Tate laughed. “You know Morgan can’t stay mad at me.”
“Tell me this.” Seth looked over his shoulder. “Will it be on your next CD?”
“Probably.”
“I heard that!” Morgan yelled from the other room.
“Gotta go.” Seth tugged at his shirt collar. “You feel like doing your brother a

favor?”

“Sure.”
“Morgan and I wanted to get away until the chatter about my renewed contract dies

down. Do you feel like coming to town to babysit?”

“Say no more. Just let me know when you need me there.” Tate grinned and ended

the call.

After Tate disconnected he had so many message alerts his phone went off like a

Ping-Pong machine hitting a high score. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now.
Talking to Jake about Rowdy, and whatever was going on in his young mind, always
made Tate feel good. Jake had made such a difference in all their lives. And Jake would
never have the kind of childhood he had: a rough upbringing with an abusive father and
alcoholic mother.

The sun was beginning to set as Tate stepped out onto the terrace of the hotel suite.

He’d achieved so much despite the less than idyllic childhood. Perhaps that’s why he’d
become so successful. He always had the devil on his back. Tate squeezed his eyes shut,
an image of his parents fighting flashing in his head. He instinctively rubbed just over
his brow, where a shard of glass had cut him when he was five after his father threw a
pitcher against a wall. That was his first visit to the hospital, and seven stitches felt like
seven hundred to a frightened little boy in the middle of a war between his parents.
Thanks to the Blakes taking him in and nurturing him, he’d left a lot of the past behind
him, but the scars remained.

Tate shook his head, trying to chase the memories off. He had a new album with

Atlantis Blue due out in six months. He’d scribbled a few notes, but his usual song-
writing mojo was on the fritz. He was headed back home to Texas to show his award to
Teri-Lyn and John Jacob and do some work around the ranch before he went to
Philadelphia. That ranch truly had healing properties—his spirit felt renewed just
driving through the main gate. Maybe this time it would give him the inspiration he
needed.

* * *

Isabelle Reed took a break from unpacking and retrieved the invitation to her cousin

Dana’s wedding in Philadelphia from the pile of mail on the coffee table. Dana had sent
a sternly worded e-mail last night demanding a response. She hadn’t known about the
delay in Isabelle receiving her mail because no one in the family knew about her new
living arrangements.

Only her cousin Morgan knew about her divorce from Ned. After months of Ned’s

repeated attempts at reconciliation had fallen on deaf ears, he’d finally acquiesced and
signed the divorce papers.

Isabelle looked down at the cast on her arm and groaned. She had to keep it on for

another six weeks. The injury meant she couldn’t work—no way could she play the violin
with a broken arm. The doctors had assured her it would be fine, but the real test would

be when her arm healed and the physical therapy began. She prayed she’d be able to
perform again. It had only been a few weeks, and she was already salivating to play.

Isabelle took out her phone and dialed Morgan. If she had to go to Philadelphia for

Dana’s wedding, she’d need a safe haven.

“Hey, Morgan.” Isabelle shouldered the phone as she lit the fire under her teakettle.
“Izzy! How are you?”
“I was fine until Cousin Dana sent me a curt e-mail last night. I got berated for my

bad RSVP manners. Are you going to the wedding?”

“Under duress. I haven’t gone to any family functions in a while, and there are

rumblings.” Morgan sighed.

Isabelle laughed. “Since when do you care about rumblings?”
“I don’t. But it’s Dana’s wedding day, and I don’t want to take away from that by

having a death match with that witch of a cousin Charisma of ours. She and I are bound
to be in the same room at some point, and I’d like to get it over with.”

“I don’t know. She’s been pretty quiet since that fight with Lamont.”
“Enough about her. What’s new with you? Have you told anyone else in the family

about the divorce?”

Isabella swallowed hard. “Not yet.”
“OK. Waiting for anything in particular?”
She looked around at the unpacked boxes. “Courage.”
“Well, they’re going to know when you go to the wedding without Ned.”
“I was thinking of dressing up a crash test dummy and bringing it instead. Half of

the Reeds will be so wasted at the reception, they won’t know the difference.”

Morgan laughed. “Sad but true. I could find a way to distract them. Maybe I’ll yell

‘rich eligible bachelor’ and watch Charisma elbow Grandma to get to the door.”

Isabelle giggled. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too. I’m so glad you’re coming home for the wedding, Izzy.”
“How about when I get there, we pig out and gossip all night like we used to do

when we were kids? Well, as long as you can stay awake.”

“I’d like that very much.” Morgan laughed.
“I don’t want to cramp your style at the Ashcroft, but could I stay with you while I’m

in town? I’m not up for the family spotlight.”

“Of course you can stay here with us. You never have to ask.”
“Thanks. Give Jake and Seth a kiss for me. I’ll see you soon.” Isabelle ended the call.
She let out a sigh of relief. Attending Dana’s wedding wasn’t the issue. She was

happy for her. She just didn’t want to deal with the questions that would come about
Ned. Why should she have to answer for his destruction of their marriage? She loved her
family, but they could be a gossipy bunch. No doubt they would grill her at the wedding

to find out what happened.

Isabelle looked for the box labeled Audio Equipment and pulled out her premium

sound system. She took her iPod out of her purse, placed it in the docking station, and
started scanning for some good unpacking music. She’d sold the house, not wanting to
remain in a place where her marital dreams had been shattered. An apartment would be
good for a year or so until she figured out what she wanted to do. She didn’t want to go
back to Philadelphia, but she suddenly felt alone and out of place in Georgia.

She was scrolling through the M’s when a name caught her eye: Tate McGill. Seemed

like McGill had been her standing engagement for months now. She wasn’t a big country
music fan, but since he was now related to Morgan, she’d thought she’d give him a
chance. It helped that he was easy on the eyes—a tall drink of Texas tea that made her
thirsty every time she glanced at his cover. He had a nice body and curly blond hair
tucked under his cowboy hat. Not to mention his beautiful blue eyes had more than a
little hint of mischief in them. Too bad he was a big manwhore.

She’d listened to “I Lost My Soul at the Candlewood Hotel in Houston” and enjoyed

it until Morgan had told her the story behind the song. In the new context it made her
blush six ways from Sunday. She fantasized how sex would be with a man like that. He
looked like the strong, silent type who didn’t like to do too much talking in bed. He
seemed more like an intensive stare kind of guy between the sheets. She was way too
demure to catch a man like Tate. For heaven’s sakes, she got hot and bothered by his
lyrics alone. On her wildest nights she would wear a plum-colored lipstick, and she still
measured her shorter skirts with a ruler as her grandmother used to do when they were
kids. Wild and sexy she didn’t feel, but when she hit that button and heard his velvety
voice, she had to resist the urge to pleasure herself, fantasizing that he was singing to her
and only her.

“Look like it’s you and me tonight, McGill.” Isabelle smiled as she turned up the

volume and danced her way into the kitchen.

Chapter Two

Tate was juggling so many bags he thought he was going to keel over into the koi

pond. He’d forgotten how adventurous a day of shopping with Teri-Lyn could be. They’d
spent the day in the mall and were now getting something to eat. When they weren’t
arguing about him paying for all her stuff, they talked about his career plans. Sometimes
he missed the days of playing for a few people at the Bright Star. A million screaming
fans were nice, but when he could get Earl, a grubby trucker with about three teeth in his
mouth, to tap his foot while having a steak and drinking a beer, he knew he was a
success.

Teri-Lyn had settled on Italian food, so they made their way to her favorite

restaurant. They perused the menu and ordered as soon as the waiter appeared.

“So what’s new with you, baby?” Teri-Lyn smiled.
“I am tired.” Tate stretched his arms over his head. “Those awards shows are

exhausting. A lot of ‘stand here,’ ‘go over there,’ ‘sound check this.’ I just finished up the
tour, and now I’m gearing up for the new album. The time frame is a bit tight for my
liking, but the new label wants to capitalize on the success of this single.”

“You don’t get to have that autonomy you love so much.”
Tate chuckled. “Why is that when I tell you I like things a certain way, you call it

autonomy, but everyone else calls me a control freak?”

Teri-Lyn patted his hand. “Because everyone doesn’t know you like I do.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the awards show. I honestly didn’t think I would

win.” He hunched his shoulders.

“I knew you would. I like that new fusion rock ’n’ roll, pop, and country music sound

you tried. It mixed things up for you.”

Tate laughed, shaking his head. “Really? I didn’t think you’d like it.”
Teri-Lyn put her hand on her hip. “I can’t be contemporary and with it? I’m a down-

home country girl with a lot of layers. I like all types of music. When Jake’s not listening
to you, he likes jazz. We dance to it sometimes.”

Tate’s eyes widened. “I apologize for pigeonholing you.”
Teri-Lyn played with her fork. “You’re my son. I love you. You could play the

triangle while singing a song and I’d think it was gold. I know it wasn’t your usual stuff,
but Tate McGill shined through on that song.”

“Thanks, Momma.” Tate smiled.
“So why was that fast little girl all over you during the performance?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. She was giving me flirty looks all week. I kept

my eyes averted to the sun.”

“Besides being obviously too young, not your type?”
Tate hoped his mouth hadn’t fallen open at the question. “Um, yes and no.”
Teri-Lyn pushed a piece of tomato around her plate. “You know I never did talk to

you boys about…women. John Jacob had that talk about the birds and the bees with you,
but I think maybe I could have provided some input on the emotional side of love. You
know, from a woman’s perspective.”

Tate cleared his throat. As old as he was, he still wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“I think he covered all the bases in his talk.”

“I see.” She shifted in her chair. “Is there another reason why you’ve never had a

steady girlfriend?”

Tate forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “I haven’t found the right one yet.”
“I just want you to find love and be happy. To build the kind of relationship like

your father and I have took a lot of dedication and devotion. You won’t find us on the
cover of a romance novel, but real love was there from the beginning. Sturdy, unyielding.
But warm and gentle too.”

Tate leaned forward. “I would be a lucky man if I could experience love the way the

two of you have. Daddy said, ‘Don’t tell a woman you love her if you can’t put your heart
and soul into it.’ I’ve been mindful of that.”

“Good.” Teri-Lyn smiled.
They spent the rest of the meal talking about his travels and the goings-on at the

ranch. When he mentioned that Seth had asked him to watch Jake in a few weeks, Teri-
Lyn smiled but didn’t comment. Poor Jake, it had to be daunting being the first Blake
grandchild. Half the things Teri-Lyn had purchased today were for him. Heaven help her
if she had more than one. Every man in the family knew that once Seth married and
started a family, Teri-Lyn would be lurking in the bushes with her love cattle prod, but
surprisingly she wasn’t overbearing about it. It may have been J.J.’s current issues with
Eden—which no one talked about—that had made her ease up and let them find love on
their own terms.

* * *

Isabelle was pleased with herself. She’d unpacked all of her things despite having a

broken arm and was still ahead of schedule. She’d found her fancy black dress among
the boxes that she could wear to Dana’s wedding but thought about buying something
new. She’d worn the dress to an event that Ned’s company had given last year.

Everything she touched in her closet reminded her of something they’d done

together. She looked around at the furniture she had, and they were all her favorite
pieces salvaged from the divorce. Ned’s butt print was on the right cushion on the love
seat. Once he’d settled in for the night, he wouldn’t move out of the seat for six hours or
more. The end table still had the stain where he’d spilled a hot toddy one Christmas and
took his time cleaning it up.

The room began to feel stifling and haunted. She’d tried to escape by moving, but

she’d brought the past with her.

Isabelle fired up her laptop and searched for the nearest donation center. After

finding one that advertised free pickup, she dialed the number and a bubbly lady
answered the phone.

“Good Missions Donations, Calanadra speaking.”
“Hello, Calanadra. My name is Isabelle, and I have some things I’d like to donate.”

She looked around the room. “Actually a whole apartment that needs to be donated.”

“Well, we do have guidelines. We love generous donations, but we don’t have

enough staff to move a whole apartment, sorry.”

“Are you sure?”
“Sorry, it’s policy.”
Isabelle put her head down on the desk so hard she banged it. “Ouch!”
“Ma’am, are you OK?” Calanadra said.
“No, I’m not. I just moved out of my dream house because of my cheating ex-

husband. I used to have a garden. I used to grow tomatoes and squash. I practiced my
violin. Now all I see when I look around is the ghost of the jerk who uprooted my life.”
She sniffed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just told you all of that.”

“Ms.…Isabelle?” Calanadra said.
“Isabelle is fine.” She blew a curly lock of hair out of her face.
“Isabelle it is. I was just looking over our manifest, and I think we do have time for a

full day of removing cheating husband crap. How about I have my people there first
thing in the morning?”

“Are you doing this because I just had an embarrassing breakdown on the phone?”

Isabelle laughed and wiped the tears away from her eyes.

“No, you sound like a nice lady, and I think everyone deserves a fresh start without

the ghosts of assholes past.”

“Thank you.” She smiled.
Two hours later Isabelle sat on her loveseat with a cup of tea for the last time. Sure,

it would have been cathartic to set it on fire, but the arson charge would be a bad look for
her career. She could see the headlines now: Scorned Violinist for the Madison
Symphony Orchestra Sets Blaze. She didn’t need one more thing for people to think
she’d completely lost it.

Isabelle opened the violin case and looked at her baby. It had been too many days

since she’d been able to play it. She’d had to resort to listening to the orchestra’s tracks
on her iPod. Music had always been a comfort to her. She’d played for hours those lonely
nights when she waited for Ned to come home. She’d played through her pain and was
able to find some joy in it. She closed the case, secured the locks, and set it by her bags.
Tomorrow, after the donation center left with the last piece of her past, she was out of
there. It may have been earlier than she’d told Morgan she’d arrive, but Morgan wouldn’t
mind. Isabelle took a sticky note and walked to her mantel, which held a picture of her
and Morgan when they were kids. She scribbled Do Not Remove and attached the note
before she set off to bed. When she returned from Philadelphia, she would have a
challenge ahead: to build a new life for herself.

Chapter Three

Tate arrived in Philadelphia a few days before Morgan and Seth were to leave for

their vacation to give Morgan some time to get acclimated to leaving Jake. He knew Seth
was itching to get away after his announcement and spend some time with his wife.

Tate had his doubts that Seth could get her out of the house without it turning into a

scene from a Shakespearean play, but Seth was confident. Jake, who had been stapled to
Tate’s side since he’d arrived, was nonplussed by the situation. Tate, Seth, and Jake
looked on as Morgan went back to the bedroom for the seventh time to retrieve
something she’d supposedly forgotten.

“How long does she do this?” Tate raised an eyebrow.
“It’s normally a half hour, but since this pregnancy, it’s been shaved down to fifteen

minutes.” Seth laughed.

“Is there anything that I can say to make her feel better about leaving Jake with me?

It’s not like I haven’t watched him before.” Tate pulled Jake into his arms. “We are going
to have a good time, Jake. I thought we’d call up a few women and have a wild party.”

“Or,” Morgan said as she marched into the foyer and handed Tate a list, “you can

each have a juice box and he gets read a story every night.”

Tate looked at the list in disbelief. Jake’s social calendar was almost as vigorous as

his. “What the heck is Doodles the Bear?”

Morgan leaned in and glanced at the list. “It’s a television show he likes to watch.

It’s very educational. You don’t have to watch it every day, but try to get it in twice this
week. Oh, and Sydney will be picking him up on Tuesday. She’s having a portrait done of
all the grandkids and will have him for most of the day. Despite what your brother has
told you, his diet isn’t jalapeno poppers and beer. Please get him to eat his veggies.”

“Don’t forget to put on the Sports Network from four to five, he likes to get the

stats,” Seth added.

Tate looked up and saw Seth smirking as Morgan went down the list, which had fifty

things on it.

Tate put his arm around her. “Morgan, honey, Uncle Tate has it covered. I used to

babysit your husband.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “You’re the same age.”
“He was a handful in high school.”
“Hey!” Seth said.
“Oh yeah?” Morgan crossed her arms over her chest. “Where were you when he was

kidnapped by those cheerleaders?”

“I was elsewhere, working on getting into the girls’ locker room on my own accord.”

Tate laughed. “OK, I did babysit Tyler and Channing on occasion and look how well they
turned out.”

Morgan covered Jake’s ears. “Randy and Horny? I’ll be lucky if I come back and he

doesn’t have a tattoo.”

“Not even a small one of a flaming guitar?” Tate waggled his eyebrows.
Morgan glared at him. “Oh. There are a few neighbors you should avoid in the lobby.

Mrs. McAllister keeps trying to set Jake up on playdates with her granddaughter.”

“What’s wrong with that?”
“The little girl drools a little too much for me, and she’s always trying to kiss him.”
Tate and Seth looked at each other.
“So it’s the kissing part you don’t like, right? The boy can’t help that he’s cute as a

button.” Tate suppressed a smile.

“You and the MVP are used to groupies, but my son has a long way to go before

fending off loose women.” Morgan glared at Tate.

“I promise you Jake will have all his fingers and toes and will be very happy when

you return.” Tate gave her a squeeze.

“I know. I just like to feel like I covered all the bases.” Morgan rubbed her belly and

turned to Seth. “Babe, I’m hungry.”

Seth held up a big sack and kissed her. “I packed some snacks. That should tide you

over until we get to the airport.”

“You two get out of here and have a good time.” Tate kissed Morgan on the cheek.
Morgan smooched on Jake for another ten minutes before she and Seth finally left.

When Morgan and Seth walked out the door, Jake simply waved good-bye and put his
head on Tate’s shoulder. In addition to the things on the list, he planned to take Jake to
the zoo and the toy store. He and Jake went into the living room, where they continued
working on the cabin they were making from his building blocks.

“Uncle Tate, juice!”
“How ’bout we get some lunch to go with that juice?”
When Jake nodded his head and smiled, Tate’s heart melted.

* * *

The first couple of days went smoothly. Tate was impressed that Jake followed his

schedule without being told what to do. Seth had given his house staff the two weeks off
at Tate’s request.

Tate had Jake ready to go when Morgan’s stepmother, Sydney, arrived to pick him

up Tuesday morning.

“Hi, Sydney.” Tate gladly accepted the big bear hug she had ready for him when she

came through the door. They’d gotten acquainted at Jake’s birthday party and had even
line danced together.

“Hi, handsome. I brought you some mac and cheese.” She handed him the dish.
Tate rubbed his belly. Sydney’s mac and cheese had been a hit at the birthday party.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Thank you so much.”

“I want you to come to the house and have dinner with us while you’re here.”
“It’s a date.”
Sydney picked Jake up. “Oh my gosh, he looks so grown up! Did you put this outfit

together yourself?”

“Yes. He had a lot of nice choices. I’ve never seen a person with so many clothes. No,

I take that back. Seth probably has more clothes.” Tate laughed.

“I’m afraid I have to accept partial blame for the clothes. I walk into a children’s

store and I can’t control myself.” Sydney giggled.

“That’s what grandmas do.” Tate smiled, remembering how she and Teri-Lyn had

gone all out for Jake’s party.

“I can’t wait to make a fuss over your little ones.”
Tate gulped. “I’m afraid that may be a ways off.”
“You don’t fool me, Tate. You have the look.” Sydney touched his cheek.
“What look is that?” Tate cringed.
“Come on, Jake. Uncle Tate has some thinking to do.” Sydney laughed and led Jake

out of the penthouse.

Tate caught a glimpse of himself in the foyer mirror. What exactly did she see?
He took a breath and turned away. Well, it was time to get some work done. He

picked up his notebook on the coffee table. Bits and pieces of good songs were in the
making, but nothing was concrete yet. He needed to get moving in the worse way. He
hated deadlines. The pressure killed his creative process. Sadly, the dual body scrub after
the awards show hadn’t motivated him to write anything scandalous. He wanted
something new and innovative without giving up his signature sound. Maybe it was time
for some new inspiration to come into his life.

* * *

Isabelle just wanted to take a hot shower and have a cup of tea after her adventures

with the airlines. The first plane had been delayed, which made her miss her connecting
flight. Luckily she’d taken her violin on the plane as a carry-on. Toting it around was
aggravating, but knowing her baby wouldn’t be damaged or stolen was worth it. Images
of people playing soccer with her violin case on the tarmac always plagued her days
before she traveled. A grueling eight hours later, she’d made it to the Ashcroft.

Isabelle’s heart sank when Oscar, the man at the front desk, told her that Morgan

and Seth had left for vacation two days ago. She explained to him that she’d arrived to
town early and they hadn’t been expecting her so soon. To her surprise, Oscar
remembered her from her last visit. They’d had a long conversation about his daughter’s
aspirations to become a violinist.

He didn’t hesitate to let her in, and he even offered to take her bags, but she refused.

He opened the elevator door and put the key in that allowed access to the penthouse.

Once she stepped inside the apartment, Isabelle dropped her bags by the door and

plopped down on the couch. Looking around, not much had changed since she’d last
visited except a few more pictures of Jake were scattered about. One of Jake’s toys sat on
the coffee table. She could feel the happiness resonating throughout the penthouse.

The knot at the base of her neck was unraveling when she heard singing coming

from the kitchen. Morgan and Seth were out of town, so who the hell was in the kitchen?
She got up and tiptoed toward it to find a man rifling through the refrigerator. She
looked around, frantic, for something to defend herself. Although her heart was beating
out of her chest, her best bet was to wound her attacker as best she could then try to get
to her phone. Her eyes settled on the block of knives on the island counter. She reached
over and grabbed the butcher’s knife.

When the intruder turned around, she almost dropped the knife. It was the same

man she’d been spending her nights with for the past three months, Tate McGill. And he
was even sexier in person.

Tate stopped his search for the cheesesteak Morgan had said she’d left him in the

fridge and closed the door. The woman standing in the middle of the floor holding a
knife with her good hand had to be a relative of Morgan’s. She was taller, had curly

auburn hair, but had the same petite shape and almond-shaped eyes. She had full,
almost pouty, sensuous lips that he was trying his best not to fixate on. She also had guts,
that was for sure, opting to face down an intruder instead of running out of the house.

“Hi, I’m Tate, nice to meet you.” He grinned and extended his hand. “And you are?”
“Isabelle Reed.” She put the knife down on the counter.
“You must be one of Morgan’s cousins.”
“What gave me away?” She put her hand on her hip.
“Well, there’s definitely a family resemblance. And you said your last name was

Reed.” He smiled.

“The doorman said Morgan and Seth were on vacation.”
“They needed a break from all the media hoopla about his new contract. So Seth

whisked her away for an impromptu vacation. I’m here babysitting Jake.”

She looked around. “Where is Jake?”
“He’s with his grandma Sydney getting some pictures taken.”
Isabelle closed her eyes. “I royally screwed this up. I thought I was going to surprise

Morgan.”

Before he could stop her, Isabelle whipped out her phone, called Morgan, and put it

on speaker.

“Hi, Izzy,” Morgan said as soon as the call connected.
“I’m standing in your kitchen and almost stabbed Tate McGill. I thought he was an

intruder.”

Morgan burst out laughing. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time a woman’s come after

him with a knife. He’s taking care of Jake for us while we’re on vacation. I wish I’d
known you were coming early.”

“Some surprise, huh? I was getting cabin fever in my apartment. I’ll see if I can stay

with Uncle Curtis and Sydney until you return to town.” Isabelle bit her lip.

“That’s not necessary. There’s plenty of room for the three of us in this big ol’

penthouse.” Tate rubbed his chin.

“No, that’s OK,” Isabelle blurted out.
Tate shook his head. “I insist. Besides, we’re family. In a manner of speaking.”
“Problem solved,” Morgan said over the phone. “I’m sure you and Tate will get

along just fine. Call me when you get settled.” Then Morgan ended the call.

“I think we can put this away now that you’ve identified me.” Tate slid the knife

back into the butcher block.

“Sorry.” She blushed. “A woman can’t be too careful these days.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And apparently neither can a man.”
“Let’s start over. I’m Isabelle Reed.” She offered him her hand to shake.
Tate looked at her hand. Like the rest of her, it was so small and delicate compared

to his, he was afraid it would break, but he definitely wanted to touch her. She was
adorable when she was trying to be tough, but her long curly hair, put up in some wild
bun on the top of her head, put him in the mood for a different kind of fighting. Her
pouty lips looked juicy, the bottom one slightly red from her biting it. And those eyes,
she had Morgan’s eyes. They were almond shaped and seductive, hidden behind long,
curly black lashes. He couldn’t help but look at her luscious, full breasts, the weight of
the sunglasses clipped onto her blouse giving him a bird’s-eye view of the pink lace trim
of her bra.

“Do you not shake hands where you’re from?” Isabelle quirked an eyebrow.
“Sorry, I just get lost in my own thoughts sometimes. I’m Tate McGill. Morgan’s

brother-in-law. It’s always a pleasure to meet a beautiful woman.” Tate grinned and took
her hand.

“Nice to meet you too.”
“So, you’re here on vacation?”
“A wedding. Our cousin Dana is getting married.” She rolled her eyes.
“Not fond of weddings?”
“No, I love weddings. I was actually bummed out that Morgan and Seth didn’t have

one. It’s just that I haven’t been home in a while, and I’ve made some life changes that I
don’t feel like explaining to my family.”

Did the broken arm have anything to do with the change? “Family can get nosey

when they care. Morgan prefaces that before she gives me one of her pep talks.”

Isabelle laughed. “I love her pep talks. What are you doing babysitting Jake?

Shouldn’t you be out corrupting innocent women and writing songs about it?”

“You listen to my music?” Tate leaned against the counter.
Isabelle looked away and tugged at her sunglasses, inadvertently giving Tate another

eyeful. “No, to my cousin. She’s told me a thing or two about her guitar-wielding gigolo
brother-in-law.”

“Morgan may have told you some stories that didn’t exactly portray me in a good

light.” He held his hands up.

“You mean the light of infamy? Innocent people don’t publicize their exploits on

their CDs.”

Tate raised an eyebrow. “So you have listened to my songs. Which scandalous ditty

did you like?”

Isabelle put her fingers to her lips. “Country music isn’t my thing, but Morgan got

me to listen to your song about you changing your ways and finding a good woman. I
think it was called ‘A Man’s Glory.’”

“Oh.” Tate rubbed his chin. “I wrote that one for Morgan and Seth.”
“Huh. I can see that.” Isabelle nodded.

“You don’t believe I’d be referring to myself?”
“No, I wouldn’t. You have trouble written all over you.”
“It’s written in all the right spots.” Tate winked.
“I rest my case.”
Tate laughed. Yeah, she was a Reed. “Can I help you with your bags?”
“Yes, thanks. I’ll be in the third bedroom down the hall from Morgan and Seth’s.”

Isabelle turned to leave.

Tate coughed. “I’m afraid I’m already staying in there.”
She turned back around, her eyes wide. “That’s my room.”
Tate laughed to himself. She was doing that pouty thing again. Did she even know

that she did it? “I’m a fair man. I’m more than willing to share with you.”

“That’s a generous offer, but there are six bedrooms in this penthouse. I’m sure I’ll

find one to my liking.”

* * *

The highlight of Isabelle’s day was when Sydney brought Jake home. He gave

Isabelle the tightest squeeze a one-year-old could give. It was good to see Sydney
involved in Jake’s life. Isabelle was proud of Morgan for finally reaching out to the love
Sydney had always been sending her way. She missed her Aunt Elizabeth too, but
Sydney brought so much joy to her Uncle Curtis’s life.

Sydney had already given Jake dinner, so Tate took him and said he’d give him a

bath so the ladies could catch up.

Sydney looked horrified when she saw the cast and sling, but Isabelle assured her it

was worse than it looked.

“What a surprise!” Sydney squeezed her as they walked into the living room.
“I was sitting home anyway.” Isabelle pointed at her cast.
“Funny, rock climbing was the last thing I thought you’d ever try.” Sydney gave her

a weary look.

Isabelle walked over to the couch. “It was the separation. I was doing all kinds of

out-of-character things.”

“Like what?”
“Let’s see, I tried this new peppermint-flavored coffee, which was awful. I switched

detergents but broke out in hives, so I switched back. I even considered a perm to
straighten out these curls.” She ran a hand through her hair.

“Isabelle Reed, I was not born yesterday. And don’t ever perm your hair.”
“Then maybe the family would stop calling me curly Q.” Isabelle rolled her eyes.
“It’s done out of love, you know that.” Sydney rubbed her cheek.
They spent another half hour catching up on family gossip. Sydney made her

promise she would stop by the house so they could have a more in-depth chat about her
“rock-climbing accident.” Isabelle could hear the air quotes in Sydney’s voice, but she
ignored it. When Isabelle let Sydney out, she made her way to the guest room to find her
things were put away, the suitcases stood in the closet, and her violin case sat on the bed.
Jake must have helped because one of his stuffed animals lay on a pillow. Isabelle
removed her sling and fell back on the bed with a heavy sigh. She longed to take a hot
shower but needed something to cover her cast. She had been so busy waving that knife
at Tate in the kitchen she’d forgotten to check for cling wrap. Isabelle reached for Jake’s
stuffed dog and placed it near her cheek. It felt soft and comforting. Boy, had he grown
since the last time she’d been in town. Seeing Morgan with him gave her hope that
someday she’d have a family of her own. She and Ned had gone off the baby-making
course a long time ago. Perhaps that was the first sign they were headed for trouble. As
each year passed, talk of children dwindled to the occasional moments when they passed
a loving new family or saw a touching commercial with a baby in it.

Isabelle pulled the bed cover over her and drifted off to sleep.
An hour later Tate knocked on her bedroom door. It was faint at first, but the

persistent knocking finally brought her out of her slumber.

“Come in,” she mumbled.
“I come in peace.” He laughed. “This isn’t a bad room.”
“It’s a lovely room. I just like being closer to Jake.” She shrugged.
“Me too. You seem like you had a long day. How about a late supper?”
“I don’t know.” Isabelle gave Tate a once over. He looked refreshed and gorgeous

while she felt like roadkill. Life was so unfair.

“Sydney brought me mac and cheese today. You could use a good meal after

traveling all day.”

“You’re on. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes.” She smiled.
Isabelle sat up and caught a glimpse of herself in the oval standing mirror in the

corner. Her hair stood up all over the place, and her clothes were so wrinkled it looked as
though she’d slept in her suitcase. No way was she eating with the gorgeous Tate McGill
looking like that. Isabelle opened the closet, scanning the contents for a fresh shirt to
wear. When she found one she wanted, she went into the bathroom in search of a brush
to tame her unruly curls.

* * *

Isabelle sat on the stool as Tate fixed two hefty plates of mac and cheese. This man

certainly knew his way around the kitchen. He’d actually taken the time to make chicken-
fried steak to go with Sydney’s dish. The hedonistic image she’d had of him being waited
on hand and foot by groupies in short skirts and low-cut blouses had just been blown to
smithereens. Actually, finding out he was babysitting Jake blew away all of her
preconceived notions. She’d just envisioned he had a high level of self-indulgence. She
had to admit she was a little jealous that Lana McNeal had been pawing him during their
performance on that awards show. He was her sexy cowboy, after all. Each time he turned
his back to her, Isabelle couldn’t help but notice how well his snug-fitting jeans
accentuated his perfect, firm ass.

She dug into the mac and cheese with her fork. “I can’t eat all this.”
“It will help you grow.” He grinned.
“So I can be big and strong like you?”
“OK. The home cooking will make your arm get better. What happened there?” He

nodded toward her cast.

“I thought I’d take up rock climbing.” She shrugged and averted her eyes.
Tate whistled. “Yikes. That must have been painful. Rock climbing can be pretty

dangerous. What made you do it?”

“Looking for excitement and a new challenge. But turns out I may have ended by

career.”

“How so?” Tate furrowed his eyebrows.
“I’m a violinist. There were complications with the break, but I am still hoping it will

heal completely. A change in my range of motion would affect my ability to play. There’s
no guaranteeing I will be able to play like I did before the accident.” Isabelle bit her lip.

“Maybe you’ll play better than before.”
“Usually, when something breaks and you put it back together, it doesn’t get

better.” She put her fork down and stared at her plate.

“That’s not true. Hearts get broken all the time and people recover. They get

stronger and go on with their lives.”

Isabelle grimaced. She looked up to find Tate staring at her.
“Isabelle, is that really how you broke your arm?” Tate clenched his jaw.
“Of course it is.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem like the extreme sports type.” He

shook his head.

“And what type am I?” Isabelle put her hand on her hip.
Tate looked her up and down. “I would have thought bench pressing at Venice

Beach for sure.”

Isabelle let out a loud snort. She covered her mouth, but it was too late. She’d made

a farm animal noise in front of the man. So much for trying to appear sophisticated and
alluring. “I must admit I am a closet body builder.”

“Nah. You couldn’t be. Those soft curves of yours have never seen a weight room.”

Tate forked a helping of mac and cheese into his mouth.

Isabelle admired how well-defined his chest looked through his T-shirt. “And what

do you do to stay in shape?”

“Good old-fashioned farm work. When I go home, Bo works me like a dog, but it

keeps me fit. Heavens knows I need the energy to keep up with Jake.”

“He is a very active child.” She nodded in agreement.
He leaned closer to her. “Don’t tell Morgan and Seth, but I don’t know who put who

to bed last night.”

Isabelle laughed. “Well, I’m here to help, surely he can’t exhaust two adults.”
She reached in her pocket and pulled out her meds. Her arm was hurting. Without

having to ask, Tate got her a glass of water.

“Thanks.” She took the glass.
He winced. “Hurting that bad?”
“I’ve had the travel itinerary from hell today. Hopping planes with a broken arm was

no fun. And I had to keep up with my trusty case.”

“So where do you play the violin?”
“The Madison Symphony Orchestra in Georgia. Our performances are held at the

Peachtree Performing Arts Center.”

Tate’s eyes lit up. “Fancy. You play classical?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“I’ve played in that concert hall. Nice acoustics in there.” Tate scratched at his beard.
“Yes! And the seating plan is awesome. I’ve sat in every section of that place, and

there isn’t a bad spot in the building. It’s nice to know everyone can enjoy the
performance no matter what price they paid.” Isabelle beamed.

“I think we’re done.”
“Pardon?” What did he mean? Was she boring him? They were having a nice

conversation that she wanted to continue.

He pointed to her empty plate.
Oh. “I guess I was hungrier than I thought. This was an excellent meal. You’re a

great cook.” Isabelle pulled on her ear.

“Thank you.” Tate took her plate and put it in the sink.

“I can help with clean up.” Isabelle hopped off the stool.
“I’ve got this. My momma would say it was poor manners to make a woman do

dishes for her meal. Besides, you need to rest that arm. Why don’t you sit back down and
tell me about that concert hall of yours.” He smiled.

How could she resist that infectious smile and those sparkling baby blues? Isabelle

took her seat back on the stool and continued raving about the concert hall. Tate would
chime in with stories about the venues he’d played. This was just like listening to him
when she went to bed, except he was there in the flesh and he smelled good. When he
offered her another glass of iced tea, she accepted. They talked for hours, and she forgot
all about being exhausted from her travels.

Chapter Four

Tate was disappointed they had to part ways, but it was getting late and Isabelle

looked exhausted. They headed for their bedrooms, but at the last minute she made a
sharp turn and went into the library.

Each time he’d mentioned her arm; she’d looked away or played with her silverware.

His gut was telling him that she was lying about the way she broke her arm. As soon as
he’d seen that cast, memories of his biological mother, Lila, had flashed in his head. His
father had broken her arm once when he’d thrown her down the porch steps. When Tate
had tried to get his father away from Lila, he’d pushed him too and Tate had hit his eye
on the railing. Tate had been five at the time, but he could remember crying throughout
the fight and when the police came after the paramedics took him and his mom to the
hospital. Social services had come to Lila’s room and stated they were removing Tate
from the house. Patty, one of the nurses monitoring his mom at the time, was a friend of
the Blakes. Patty had called Teri-Lyn and John Jacob, who’d come to the hospital and
asked social services if he could stay with them. That was the first time he’d gone to live
with the Blakes.

Tate looked in on Jake to find him sleeping peacefully in his race car toddler bed. He

headed toward his room and called Seth.

“Jeff’s pool hall. Jeff speaking,” Seth drawled into the phone.
“Hey, Jeff, don’t forget that wine you promised to bring back.” Tate laughed.
“It’s on my list. How’s Jake?”
“He’s fine. We’ve been having a blast the last few days.”
“So I can tell Morgan there are no tattoos or police records?”
“I’m saving all that for his eighteenth birthday.” Tate chuckled.
“How are you doing with your unexpected houseguest? Still quaking in your boots

after having a knife on you?”

“Nah. I wasn’t worried. I’ve never met a woman who could resist my charms.”
“That’s pretty much why you stayed in trouble all four years of high school.”
Tate coughed. “What’s the story with Isabelle?”
“Why do you want to know?”

“Can’t a man be curious?”
“Sure, a man can, but with you a question is a prelude to a scandal.”
“Most times, yes. I assure you this is just mild curiosity.”
“Good, because that’s Morgan favorite cousin. As a matter of fact, they’re more like

sisters. And you wouldn’t be able to sneak out the window the morning after since
you’re babysitting your nephew.” Seth laughed.

“Wow. Get down off your soapbox Prince Seth or I’ll tell Morgan about that time we

spent in Fiji after your first Super Bowl win.”

“McGill, I thought we made a pact. What’s happens in Fiji, stays in Fiji. I mean it,

Tate.”

“I’ve got photos. Spill it.” Tate took off his battered gold watch and started to get

ready for bed.

“She’s Morgan’s favorite cousin. Do you hear me? Favorite. She may be the anti-

Charisma.”

“She’s beautiful.”
“That goes without saying. She had a bad breakup with a philandering husband.

She’s in town for a cousin’s wedding and is staying with us so she doesn’t get
interrogated by the rest of the family about her divorce.”

Tate sat on the bed. So Isabelle was recovering from a broken arm and a broken

heart.

“She said she injured her arm rock climbing.” Tate sighed heavily.
Seth was silent for a moment. “Do you think it’s something else?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t buy that explanation. I think there’s more to the story, and

I intend to find out.”

“I trust your gut. See if you can find out what happened.”
“Will do. So how’s Morgan doing with the next Blake heir growing in her belly?”
“Just fine. We have our baby name list narrowed down to a possible twenty.”
“Any girl names on that list?”
“I added one or two to make her happy.” Seth laughed.
“All that procreating you’re doing is making the rest of us look bad.”
“Sounds like it’s time for you to play catch up.”
“Bite your tongue. Give Morgan a kiss for me. Tell her Jake is fine. Great even. He

loves Isabelle.”

“Do yourself a favor. Don’t fight with my son for Isabelle’s attention. You will lose.

He’ll flash those six teeth so fast and you’ll wonder why you got stuck with the check.”
Seth burst out laughing.

“Morgan’s favorite cousin, eh?”
“Like a sister. Tread carefully.”

“Relax, I have no dubious intentions.” He ended the call.
Tate lay back on the bed. He hadn’t felt that comfortable with a woman—ever.

Maybe it was because he knew she’d had a long day or suspected that his usual charming
shtick wouldn’t work on her. There was something about her that made him feel…
peaceful. She shared a love of his three favorite things: music, Jake, and Sydney’s mac
and cheese.

He held up his watch and sighed. The old gold watch had seen better days and

hadn’t worked properly in years, but he still wore it every day. Lila had given it to him
when his first album had gone platinum. The watch was a family heirloom; it had
belonged to her father and was the only expensive thing she’d owned that his father, Joe,
hadn’t managed to destroy. When times had gotten hard, she would pawn it to get
money to keep the house afloat. She would always buy it back, even if it meant getting an
extra job to do it.

* * *

Isabelle didn’t know why she’d gone into the library instead of heading to her room,

but she’d suddenly gotten nervous when she and Tate were headed in the same
direction. It was getting late, but she felt as though they could have talked all night. She
pretended to be looking for a book just in case he passed by, not wanting to look as
foolish as she felt.

She and Morgan used to have so much fun when they’d visit Aunt Elizabeth at the

library. Those were some of the best days of her life. Being a military brat and only child
who moved around a lot, she treasured the times her father was stationed close to
Philadelphia. Colonel Lucas Reed had a long career in the marines and had taken his
family all over the world. She and Morgan would write to one another weekly until the
Internet caught fire and letter writing became passé. She’d saved all those letters,
rereading them often. Morgan would lament about her rowdy brothers, her overbearing
father, how much she missed her mom, and how their cousin Charisma was a big pain in
her ass. But they also exchanged thoughts about their dreams. Books had always been in
Morgan’s blood. Isabelle loved music and played in the band at every school she
attended. They’d talked about writing a joint memoir one day about their lives together.
She smiled, thinking of how exciting and full of possibilities the world had seemed to be
at the time.

Isabelle took out her phone. Hopefully, Morgan was still up. She wanted to

apologize for the trouble the impromptu visit had caused this afternoon and for almost
stabbing her gorgeous brother-in-law.

“Hi, Morgan, sorry about the early arrival,” Isabelle said when Morgan answered the

phone.

“No problem, Izzy. My house is yours, so relax and have a good time before you have

to see the relatives.”

“Thanks. How’s Seth enjoying the vacation?”
“He’s having a great time.” Morgan giggled.
“Is he still amped up that he renewed his contract with the Titans?”
“That has subsided. Now he’s just enjoying California.”
“I thought for sure he’d sign with the Tomcats. What changed his mind?”
Morgan paused for a moment. “I’ll fill you in next week. Right now I’m hoping that

nobody in Texas is burning my image in effigy. How’s the arm?”

“Getting better. I had a great home-cooked dinner tonight. Mac and cheese and

chicken-fried steak. Tate was right. The home cooking did make my arm feel better.”

“So how are things with you two? After the near fatal stabbing?”
“So far, so good. Can you imagine me getting arrested for stabbing the gorgeous

country-western singer Tate McGill?”

“Gorgeous, eh?”
Isabelle bit her lip. “You know what I mean. I was just saying what some media

person would say.”

“Right,” Morgan said sarcastically.
“Stop it.”
“Hey, you said gorgeous, not me.”
Isabelle sighed. “I’ll let you get back to Seth.”
“OK. If you need any help, call Sydney, Nina, or Michelle. In that order. If you’re

looking for trouble, call them in the reverse order.”

Isabelle laughed. “Sure. It’s so nice you let Sydney take care of Jake.”
“I’m the late bloomer of maturity.” Morgan laughed. “One thing before I go.

Whatever you do, stay away from the nightstand in my bedroom.”

Isabelle furrowed her brow. “OK. Why?”
“I just wouldn’t.”
“Now I’m very curious.”
“Fair warning. And if you even think Jake is headed in that direction, throw yourself

in front of my door or toss a grenade in the room and blow it up.”

Isabelle blew a raspberry into the phone.
“When I get back next week, we can go shopping for dresses for the wedding.”
“Sounds like a plan. I have nothing to wear. Love you, Morgan.”

“Love you too, Izzy.”

* * *

“Uncle Tate! Phone!” Jake ran out into the hallway from Seth’s study with Isabelle’s

phone in his hand, then ran back in to watch Doodles the Bear climb a tree while reciting
the alphabet.

“Thanks, partner.”
Tate looked at the display, saw the name Bane of my Existence, and figured it had to

be her ex. Besides that, the ringtone was a hurtful shrill sound that one might hear in a
horror movie. There was only one way to find out.

“Hello,” Tate drawled.
“Hello?” There was silence for a moment. “I think I have the wrong number.”
“Well, you have a good day now.” Tate ended the call.
A minute later the phone rang again.
“Hello,” Tate said.
“Who’s this?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I’m looking for Isabelle Johnson,” the man barked.
“I don’t know an Isabelle Johnson, but this is Isabelle Reed’s phone.” Tate laughed

to himself. He could play this game all day.

“Same person. That’s my wife. Who the hell are you? Where is she?”
“I’m Tate. A very good friend of Isabelle’s. I think she’s in the bedroom. I can go see

if you like.” Tate grinned.

“No!”
“I’ll let her know you called.” Tate hung up again and burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Isabelle said as she came around the corner.
Tate could have lied and said it was something Doodles the Bear had done, but there

was nothing funny about that big bear dancing around all the time while teaching the
alphabet. He hoped Isabelle had Morgan’s sense of humor and wouldn’t make a big deal
out of it.

“Are you in a good mood?” Tate handed her the phone.
“Sure.” Isabelle shrugged.
“Your phone rang and Jake brought it to me. It was your ex. I had a little fun with

him. I told him you were in the bedroom and I would go get you if he needed to speak to

you. Oddly enough he didn’t sound too thrilled.”

Tate relaxed when Isabelle laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes.
“You just made my day, Tate.” She looked at her phone.
“He still refers to you as his wife.” Tate raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sure that was his bruised ego talking. He hasn’t wanted to be my husband in a

long time.”

Tate leaned against the wall. “So what did happen? If you don’t mind me asking.”
He thought maybe he’d touched a raw nerve when Isabelle stood there frozen for a

moment.

“Sometimes things happen that are unforgiveable. I had a decision to make, like

there really was one. Instead of putting on the classic tune ‘Stand by Your Man,’ I opted
for ‘These Boots Are Made for Walkin’.’”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Tate shook his head.
“Such is life. I was actually happy I could correlate my unraveling marriage with

relevant theme songs.” Isabelle smiled.

The phone rang again. It was her ex-husband. She let it go to voice mail.
“He’s a persistent little jackass, isn’t he?” Tate said, glancing at the display.
“He can be when motivated by the wrong things. He called me one time deliberately

during my class, and we had it out. I lost it in front of my students and called him a
douche bag, but then I had to explain what a douche bag was and why they shouldn’t use
the phrase.”

“Students?”
“In my spare time I teach music classes. Molding young musical minds and all that.”
Tate smiled. The Reed women were always helping someone in need.
The phone rang again.
“Isabelle, why don’t you answer that. Let me handle Mr. Johnson.” Tate waggled his

eyebrows.

Isabelle gave him a skeptical look.
“There are three things I do well, and one of them is pissing off husbands and

boyfriends.” Tate folded him arms over his chest.

Isabelle gave him a wicked smile and answered the phone. “What do you want,

Ned?” She rolled her eyes at whatever was said on the other end. “No, I can’t look
through any boxes. I donated everything I’d moved to my new apartment… Yes,
everything. I sit on a crate to eat dinner now.”

Tate stood in front of Isabelle, waiting for his moment to interject. The standard

voice in the background wasn’t going to do it for the asshole who had cheated on a great
woman like her. He may have been in a jovial mood, but his blood boiled that the guy
had the nerve to call up as if he still had a claim on her. It was time for Ned to grow up.

Tate leaned in, waiting for the precise moment Isabelle was sniping at Ned, and

kissed her on the spot where her neck met her jawline. He’d seen her caressing that spot
the last few days and figured it was sensitive to her. She smelled like fresh flowers and
peaches. Just as he’d expected, she let out a low moan into the phone and almost
dropped it. When she didn’t slap his face, Tate grabbed her by the waist and pulled her
to him and continued with a trail of kisses down to her collarbone. When he finished, she
was looking up at him and Ned was doing a whole lot of cursing into the phone.

“Bye, Ned,” Tate said as he took the phone and disconnected the call.
They stood there for a moment looking at each other.
“Do you get shot at a lot?” Isabelle whispered.
“In the past I’ve had to jump out of a window or two.” He winked.
“I think you succeeded at pissing him off for the rest of the year. Thanks.” She

reached out for the phone.

“Why don’t you let me hang on to this for a little while? Just in case he calls back.”

Tate stroked the stubble on his face.

“OK. I’ll go watch Doodles the Bear with Jake.” Isabelle turned and made a hasty

maneuver to avoid bumping her cast into the doorframe.

Chapter Five

Isabelle prepared for her music class in the library. She’d had a pleasant afternoon

with Tate and Jake and was ready for a nap. Tate had set out to a gourmet supermarket to
get the ingredients for the seafood lasagna he was making tonight, so she’d tagged along.
It was fun roaming around her hometown with him, pointing out historical landmarks
and telling him stories about her childhood. Tate had stopped in this terribly expensive
chocolatier and had gotten her to sample some of their product. She’d gone nuts over the
milk chocolate and hazelnut combo, so Tate had asked for a couple of pounds. Tate
wanted to make a chocolate mousse and was going to shave the chocolate over the
whipped cream. Her heart had almost stopped beating when the cashier informed him
the total was over two hundred dollars. But Tate hadn’t batted an eyelash and moved on
to Williams-Sonoma, looking for a special stoneware lasagna pan.

She looked forward to a good meal tonight with her boys, but she had to focus on

teaching her class. They had a concert coming up in a few weeks and needed to be in top
form.

“Good afternoon, class!” Isabelle bellowed into the microphone.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Johnson,” the students returned the greeting in a droll tone.
June, her star pupil, pushed up her glasses and leaned closer to the camera. “Sorry,

we’re supposed to say Ms. Reed, right?”

“It’s OK, June. I’ll answer to both.” She sipped her coffee.
The students began firing off questions.
“Your background looks different. Are you not home?”
“How’s the arm?”
“Is your name legally Ms. Reed again?”
“When are you returning to work?”
“Do you miss performing?”
“Do you want us to slash your ex-husband’s tires or break the car windows?”
Isabelle shook her head. She wished they applied this much interest to their music

lessons. “OK, one, I’m visiting my cousin Morgan in Philadelphia. I told you about her.
Two, the arm is getting better. Three, yes, it’s legally Ms. Reed again. Four, I won’t be

returning to work any time soon. Five, I miss performing, but I don’t miss the draft in
the concert hall. And six, thanks for the offer, but not only would that not be nice to
damage someone else’s property, it would be illegal and hardly worth the trouble.”

“Holy crap! You’re in Seth Blake’s house?” Carlos, the oboe player, yelled out.
Isabelle laughed. “Language. We are playing classical music. We can at least pretend

to be classy. Can we get down to work? Whose turn is it this week to select the piece
we’re going to practice?”

The kids looked at each other.
June spoke up. “We were actually arguing about that in the game room. I think it’s

mine, but Donovan insists it’s his turn.” She rolled her eyes.

“It is my turn.” Donovan pushed June out of the way to hog the web camera.
Isabelle suppressed a smile. She remembered the days of not being able to tell a boy

she liked him. Those two found some reason to fight each session. She glanced at her
notes. “June, it is Donovan’s turn.”

Donovan blew a kiss at Isabelle. “Thank you, Ms. Reed.”
His action plan of making June jealous by showering Isabelle with flattery was

working. June looked like she wanted to strangle him with a violin string.

Isabelle started her music lecture as she normally did with a witty anecdote about

Mozart. She liked squeezing in some history about the instruments and the people who
mastered them. The Classical Music Rocks program was comprised of promising young
music students from various schools. The money they raised giving concerts went toward
providing scholarships and instruments to kids from low-income families who couldn’t
afford them.

After the chatter subsided, they began practicing Donovan’s selection, Beethoven’s

“Ode to Joy.” Isabelle was pleasantly surprised that someone who was part of the group
under duress had selected a great piece. Donovan’s first love was the electric guitar, but
being the offspring of a famous concert pianist, he had to participate in the program in
exchange for being able to rock out with his band on the weekends. June was a violinist,
like Isabelle. She saw so much promise in her. But June was having trouble for weeks,
and unfortunately Isabelle’s broken left arm prevented her from helping June work
through some of her weak spots.

They’d moved on to a new piece, but June was still having trouble.
“It’s OK, June. Let’s try it again.” Isabelle sighed.
When June came to a screeching halt, Isabelle thought it was time to take a break,

and they’d only just started.

“Maybe I can help with that,” came a voice from the doorway.
Isabelle looked up to see Tate leaning against the library doorframe. “How so?”
“You tell me what to play and June can mimic me. Is that OK with you, June?” Tate

stepped in view of the webcam and waved.

“Sure.” June’s cheeks turned a pretty pink, and her smile got bigger by the second.
“Ms. Reed, who is this?” Donovan was attempting to eyeball Tate through the

webcam.

“Class, this is Tate McGill. He’s a country music singer.”
“Yes, he did that duet with Lana McNeal.” Carlos said. The class erupted into a

super storm of chatter.

Isabelle gave up, letting them have their disruptive moment. She tried not to look at

the snug white T-shirt he’d changed into with the Texas flag on it or the way his jeans
seemed to be glued to his corded thighs.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she said to him.
“Not a problem. I just put Jake down for his nap. He wouldn’t go to sleep until I

checked the stock report for five companies that are apparently in his portfolio.” Tate
shook his head.

“OK.” Isabelle reluctantly gave him the violin and bow. She didn’t want to make a

big deal out of it, but no one touched her violin. It was like a part of her body that Tate
now held gently in his hands. It was hard focusing on the lesson when his cologne was
launching a sensual assault on her nose. It was a mixture of something woodsy and
masculine yet soft and enticing. The past week that scent had haunted her. Isabelle
closed her eyes and took a whiff.

“Isabelle?” Tate drawled into her ear.
Her lids flew open. “Yes?”
“I think the class is ready.”
Isabelle turned to find her entire class watching them.
“Mr. McGill, I loved your performance on the Epic Awards! I loaded that single with

you and Lana onto my iPod.” June beamed.

“Thank you, June. Does that mean you’re a fan of my work now?” Tate smiled.
“For sure!” June squealed.
Isabelle cleared her throat. “OK, Mr. McGill is going to be our visual aid.”
“Can he change his shirt? I don’t think he can play the violin with his shirt being

that tight,” Donovan murmured.

“It’s fine!” two of the girls in the back yelled.
“OK, June, how about we play this piece together?” Tate broke up the chatter.
Isabelle sat down and watched as Tate played in time with June. She was so fixated

on the way his arms moved as he handled her violin, she didn’t realize when they’d
finished the piece.

“How long should I keep going?” Tate smiled at her.
Isabelle swallowed. “As long as you like.”

* * *

By the end of the session, the kids were clapping and thanking him for being their

guest speaker. Isabelle still sat curled up in the chair listening attentively.

“I’d like to thank Ms. Reed for letting me horn in on her class. It was nice jamming

with you guys,” he drawled and got a positive response from everyone except Donovan.
June hadn’t made a crude remark to him in a half hour and he looked upset. “Donovan,
your mom was right to have you learn other instruments to get a better appreciation of
the guitar. I know how to play every instrument that my band members use as well as
any accompanying ones that I use to record in the studio. If you want to be a rocker,
know what’s helping you put your band’s sound together.”

“Thanks.” Donovan’s eyes widened.
“Until next time, my lovelies,” Isabelle said before she disconnected the chat.
“What a great group of kids.” Tate put her violin back in the case, then slipped the

sling back around her arm.

“They are. I’m so proud of them for giving up their time to help others. Thanks for

the assist.” She grabbed onto his shoulder as she tried to get out of the chair.

“My pleasure. Did I impress you with my violin skills?” He waggled his eyebrows

and put his hand on her waist to steady her.

“Maybe.” She looked up into his eyes.
“How’s the arm? You looked uncomfortable earlier.” He caressed her shoulder.
“I had it out of the sling too long.” She winced.
“Why do you do that?”
“Because it scares the kids. You notice how Jake fixates on it? My music kids had a

look of terror on their faces the first time they saw it.”

He sighed. “Jake is a Blake. He stares at you because you’re pretty and you remind

him of his mother. Your music kids care about you. It’s hard to see someone you care
about in pain. Especially someone as dainty as you.”

“Dainty?” She rolled her eyes.
“That cast has to weigh more than you do. I could pick you up with one hand.”
“I’d like to see you try.” She squinted at him.
Tate gently tugged on her shirt to bring her closer. Warning bells were going off in

his head to nix the flirting and be on his way, but he couldn’t help himself. She looked so
damn cute when she was trying to be tough. There was something about her that was

warm and inviting. Seeing her cozied up in that chair sparked an unfamiliar urge in him.
Against his better judgment, he leaned in for a kiss.

It was a hell of a bad time for his cell phone to ring. He’d taken it out of his pocket

and placed it on the desk when he started the music lesson.

Isabelle jerked her head back. “You’d better get that.”
“It can wait,” Tate drawled.
Isabelle looked at his phone display. “It’s your brother Channing. I have to take my

meds anyway. I’ll be in Jake’s playroom getting ready for his finger-painting lesson
later.”

She hurried out of the library.
Tate stabbed at the button on his phone to answer the call. “Channing, you better be

calling to tell me the world’s been taken over by aliens.”

* * *

Isabelle was more excited about the trip to the zoo than Jake was. As they walked

around, though, Jake’s excitement grew each time they encountered a different animal
exhibit. He particularly liked the penguins, so they stayed there for a while. There was a
free-roaming peacock that initially scared Jake, but then he went to get a closer look. He
chased the peacock, then the bird turned around and chased Jake back into Tate’s arms.
They got the occasional odd look. It was clear a few people were trying to decipher if he
were indeed Tate McGill. But Isabelle remembered what Morgan had said about Seth
being approached all the time and took the advice. As long as no one tried to get too
close to Jake, she let it alone.

Both needing a break, Isabelle suggested to Tate they should take the train that ran

around the perimeter of the zoo. Now she knew why Morgan was comfortable with
letting Jake out with his uncles. Tate’s attentiveness to his nephew was amazing. She
deeply regretted not attending Jake’s birthday party. From what she’d seen in the photos
Morgan had sent, that ranch was an earthy, hunky land of good and plenty. Everyone
looked as though they’d had a blast. She remembered a photo of Tate holding Jake and
his new puppy, Rowdy. Sydney had gushed about the party for weeks on her social media
page. Morgan had been moved to tears at the day’s events.

She felt guilty she had been too busy feeling sorry for herself to be seen in public.

She would not have exactly been the life of the party at that time. The divorce had been
set into motion the week before, and Isabelle didn’t remember doing too much other

than crying and eating a lot of ice cream. Her private hell had prevented her, yet again,
from experiencing life.

After raiding the gift shop at the zoo, they finally made their way back to the

Ashcroft. Isabelle cooked dinner while Tate and Jake talked to Teri-Lyn on the webcam.
Teri-Lyn caught Tate up on what was going on in the family and told Jake she missed
him about a hundred times. When they were done and cleaning up the kitchen, Tate
informed her they were going to have some entertainment tonight.

“We have a surprise for you, don’t we, Jake?” Tate kissed him on the cheek.
Tate took Isabelle by the hand and led her into the living room. He had her sit in the

armchair. A bottle of wine and a glass sat on the table next to her. He put Jake down on
the couch, poured her a glass a wine, then took a seat on the couch and positioned Jake
on his lap. He picked up the guitar next to him and began to strum the strings. Jake
followed suit, and they both strummed incoherently until they developed a groove.

Tate began to sing in a low, soothing voice that took her by surprise. She knew he

was an excellent singer, but to have him sitting before her, doing a duet with Jake, was
amazing. The song “Whisper of Your Words” was familiar to her. It was the third track
from his second album. She blushed, feeling like a schoolgirl for memorizing his music
catalog. It was a sweet song she had listened to one night when she was thinking about
the good times in her marriage, when Ned had latched on to every word she said. Now
Tate was singing it to her. He’d closed his eyes for a minute, and she was pissed that he
had taken those beautiful blue, soulful eyes away from her.

Jake’s attempt to sing with him brought him out of the trance. Jake leaned back onto

Tate, resting his head on Tate’s chest and fighting sleep. By the time Tate finished his
song, Jake was knocked out and Isabelle was on her second glass of wine.

“I’ll put him to bed.” Isabelle motioned for Tate to put Jake in her arms and headed

to his room.

By the time she’d come back to the living room, the lights were dimmed and Tate

held a glass of wine of his own. The room had a cozy feel, but that subsided when she
realized she’d just put her buffer to bed. The other day when she’d been bickering with
Tate, she knew he’d leaned in for the kiss they both wanted to share. That phone call was
a sign that it was bad idea to be cooped up in a luxury penthouse with a man she spent
hours fantasizing about while listening to his silky voice on her iPod. The thing she
feared was also the same thing she desired. Her attraction to Tate was growing, as was
her concern about becoming a sexy exploit on his next CD.

“Thank you for that wonderful duet. I’ve never had two handsome men sing to me

before.” She sat next to him and took the glass he handed her.

“I just wanted to show you how much I appreciated your help today at the zoo.” He

clinked glasses with her.

“I wouldn’t have missed the Great Peacock Race for anything.” She laughed.
“That boy takes off like a rocket. He’s got so much of his daddy in him.” Tate shook

his head.

She took a sip of her wine. “Morgan told me you played football in high school.”
“I did.”
“She said you were pretty good at it. Just as good as Seth.”
“Slight exaggeration. Why is it that loved ones always give you more credit than

you’re due?” He laughed.

“It’s called encouragement and positive reinforcement. But it’s not like you can

complain about your near miss with football fame. This whole singing thing is working
pretty well for you.” She giggled.

“So, what else did Morgan tell you?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Well, she did tell me some colorful stories.” She picked at the hem on her dress.

“But all I had to do was listen to one of your ‘after midnight’ songs, as you aptly named
them in an interview.”

“I do like the company of women. That’s never been a secret.” He smirked.
“Don’t I know it.” She gulped her wine.
“Don’t tell me, you were that shy, pretty girl in high school who kept all the boys at

bay?”

“No, most boys were scared of my dad. He’s a military man, and if he even thought a

boy was coming over to see me, he’d conveniently be cleaning his gun.”

Tate laughed. “That would be a bit of a mood killer.”
“Besides, most of them were just horny and would say whatever they needed to get a

girl into bed.”

Tate’s chest rumbled with laughter. “The good ol’ days.”
“I don’t believe you had a problem getting any woman you wanted then or now, Mr.

Country-Western Star. Women throw themselves at you.” She crossed her arms over her
chest.

Tate looked at her. “Not all of them.”
“I waited for love. Can you believe that crap? I had like two boyfriends before I

married my husband. Look what good it did me.”

“Sometimes we pick the wrong person. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“Why did I pick the wrong person?” Isabelle turned her head.
“Love makes fools out of all of us at one time or another, Izzy.”
Had he ever been a fool for love? The more she wanted to know, the more she

reminded herself that it was none of her business. His lips looked especially kissable
right now, and she did all she could not to run her hand through that curly blond hair of
his. How easy would it be to let him know she was interested? That she wanted to reach

over and unhinge the belt buckle he wore with the picture of Texas on it and caress the
obvious, big bulge in front of his jeans. She needed to go before she did something
embarrassing.

“I suppose it does. Thank you for a great day. I have some things I need to catch up

on. Good night.” She kissed him on the cheek and lifted herself off the couch before he
could kiss her back.

* * *

Tate was looking forward to trying out the custom shower Seth always raved about.

After working out for two hours in the gym, his body was in need of some TLC. Normally
sex was a perfect remedy to wind down, but there was no chance of that happening. A
certain violinist was the reason he’d resorted to pleasuring himself the last couple of
nights as he drifted off to sleep. When she left the living room the other night, he’d
thought of pulling her back down on the couch and returning her peck on the cheek with
a full-blown make-out session. Was she a screamer? Nah, she seemed way too demure
and proper for high-pitched cries of pleasure. She reminded him of a fine top-shelf
scotch. Every drop was meant to be meticulously savored to appreciate all its fine
qualities.

Images of a scantily clad Isabelle involuntarily flashed in his head, and it was

becoming a daytime nuisance as well. She’d given him a curious look when she caught
him staring, and he’d walked away, pretending to be looking for something. Seth may
have well stamped “do not touch” on Isabelle’s forehead because every time he looked at
her caution lights flashed.

Tate peeled off his sweaty T-shirt as he made his way to the bathroom in Seth and

Morgan’s master suite. As soon as he crossed the threshold he kicked off his running
shoes and was about to remove his shorts when he got further into the enormous
bathroom. He could hear music playing faintly. Wait a minute, he could hear himself. He
turned the corner to find Isabelle in the claw-foot bath tub surrounded by bubbles. Her
arm was wrapped with what looked like Cling Wrap and was awkwardly perched up on
the edge of the tub to keep it away from the water. She was so busy singing along with
his song and wiggling about in the water, that she braced herself with her good arm and
rose out of the water, unaware that he was in the room. Tate stood there, knowing if he
didn’t say anything in five seconds, he was going to become the creepiest man in
Philadelphia. But he couldn’t help himself. The way the bubbles were cascading down

her full breasts and ass, he wasn’t sure if he were having another one of those walking
daydreams. His dick rose to attention in his shorts and an unexpected moan escaped his
lips. She must have heard him because she turned around and screamed.

Isabelle frantically looked around for something to cover herself, but a shirtless Tate

was the barrier between her and the towels on the shelf. Not knowing what to do, she
sank back down into the tub, awkwardly trying to hold her arm above the water and
causing a wave to splash onto the tiled floor. She’d already pulled the plug, so the clock
was ticking. She hadn’t meant to scream so loud, heaven knows she didn’t want to wake
Jake, but seeing Tate standing there in all his sweaty glory had taken her by surprise. She
knew he’d been in the gym working out and had even passed by a few times to get a view
of him running on that treadmill. Seeing his broad chest and tight abs in action as he
jogged had gotten her all hot and bothered and had been her inspiration for taking a
long soak in the claw-foot tub Morgan had mentioned numerous times.

The water was getting cold, and the bubbles were disappearing by the second. Tate

was looking at her as if she were a pork chop and hadn’t bothered to offer her the towel
she desperately needed. She glanced down to see his physical reaction to her was
growing by the second.

“How long have you been standing there?” Isabelle swallowed hard.
“Not long. I swear.” He held up his hands.
“Think you could pass me a towel?”
“Sure.” He blinked, then shook his head. He went to retrieve the towel but stopped.

“I thought you said you didn’t listen to my music?”

“What?” She jerked her head in his direction.
He folded his arms over his chest. “I thought you said you didn’t listen to my

music?”

“Are you kidding me? Give me a damn towel.” She scowled.
“Oh, I’ll give you the towel. Just answer the question unless you plan on becoming a

mermaid.” He laughed.

“OK. I do listen to your music. But that Tate McGill is a persona and very far from

being real to me. I’m sure you’ve had lots of women tell you how much fun you are.” She
kept her eyes glued to his face. His pecs moved when he laughed.

“Despite what you think, I am the same person on stage and off.”
“Good for you. It must be exhausting sleeping with so many women in between

singing engagements.”

“Are you interested in my sex life? You want to see if all the dirty songs I write are

true?”

“Absolutely not. And I do believe there’s a lot of exaggeration in those songs. I

hardly believe that you can handle five women at one time and go for six hour stretches.”
She rolled her eyes.

He came closer. “Four women and five hours is my personal best.”
“If you think I believe that, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“I can give you a demonstration,” he drawled.
“All I want from you is a towel, you peeping tom.”
“I was supposed to use the shower after my workout. My clothes are over there on

the bench. Didn’t you notice them?”

She shut her eyes. She’d seen them when she’d come in but hadn’t given it a second

thought. “I thought they were Seth’s clothes.”

“Sure you did. Maybe you planned this run-in?”
“I didn’t plan anything, but I am plotting your murder as we speak. Towel.”
He walked over and retrieved the towel. Now the tricky part would be getting out of

the tub and covering herself. Before she could formulate a plan, Tate stood in front of the
tub and held out the towel as if he were waiting for her to get out.

“Close your eyes.” She squinted at him.
“I’ve already seen the best parts.” He gave her a wolfish grin.
“Close ’em!”
He took his time closing his eyes. She steadied herself on his shoulder while he

tenderly wrapped the towel around her. She was inches away from those sinful lips. She
struggled to keep a grasp on her fury. He smelled musky, as if he’d been wrestling a
bear, and looked sexy as hell.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“My pleasure. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.” He reached up and refastened

the clip in her hair and put the sling on her arm. He dropped his hands to her waist.

She wiggled out of his arms, grabbed her iPod out of the stereo dock, and made her

way to the door. “That was nice of you to help me out, but you’re still a jerk.”

“Listen, I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”
“Do you have a time machine?” She smirked.
“Well, we have just about everything on the ranch but no time machine.” He

scratched at his beard.

“Then there is nothing you can do.” She fumbled with the door handle.
“Isabelle.”
She turned to find Tate stark naked with a big smile on his face. Just like she

thought, he was well hung. He was standing there as though it were the most natural
thing in the world. Nor was he ashamed at the erection he sported. The phrase
“everything is bigger in Texas” was crudely confirmed, but she’d sooner stick her finger

in a wall socket than ever utter those words to him.

“It’s only fair that you see me naked. Now we’re even,” he said with a goofy smile on

his face.

“Is that the traditional way to wave good-bye in Texas?” She hustled her ass out of

the bathroom.

Chapter Six

Isabelle may have had an embarrassing night, but she’d found herself with a bigger

problem today. She’d dropped by her Uncle Curtis and Sydney’s house to find her cousin
Beverly there visiting. Beverly then got on her phone and told everyone in a fifty-mile
radius that Isabelle was in town, which set off an awful chain of events. Isabelle had been
forced to visit six different relatives and then had been roped into going to a fitting with
Dana for her wedding dress.

Isabelle took a seat in an overstuffed chair while Dana and the bridesmaids went

into the dressing room to try on their dresses. Her cell phone pinged. It was Ned. She hit
the ignore button. Her ex-husband was probably still stewing after that joke Tate played.

“So where’s Ned?” Dana asked as she came out wearing her gown. “Your e-mail said

you were coming by yourself.”

Isabelle ignored the question. “Dana, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She twirled. “It costs an arm and a leg, but you only get married once,

right?”

“I sincerely hope not,” Isabelle mumbled and gulped down her glass of champagne.
“Did you say something?” Dana asked as the seamstress went to work.
“Nope.” Isabelle plastered on a smile and turned to another cousin. “So, Beverly,

how are things at the hospital?”

“Busy as ever. They laid off some of the other nurses, and I work grueling hours.

Wayne complains that he never sees me.” Beverly rolled her eyes.

“Well, he must understand your job is important.”
“He does. He can be a big baby at times. Does Ned ever complain about you working

too much?”

“Actually, he works longer hours than I do. I was the Wayne in the relationship.”

Isabelle smiled.

“Was? Past tense?” Beverly looked at her.
“Did I say ‘was’? I always got those tenses confused in school.” Isabelle set her

empty champagne glass on the silver tray and picked up another one.

“Speaking of tense, when’s Charisma getting here?” Beverly said.

“I don’t know,” Dana said. “But if she doesn’t get here soon, she’s out and Isabelle’s

in as a bridesmaid.”

“Please, I haven’t incurred the wrath of Charisma in a while,” Isabelle said. “I’d like

to keep it that way.”

“So is Ned coming later? I assumed you’d made a mistake on the e-mail RSVP and

put both of you down on the seating chart.”

Isabelle winced. “You shouldn’t have done that. I’m flying solo at the wedding.

Actually, I’m flying solo for the foreseeable future.”

Her cousin Candace came over. “What did you say?”
It could have been that she’d drunk the champagne too fast, but the bridal shop

suddenly seemed very small. Each time she blinked, another cousin had come over to
join the party.

“Ned and I are no longer together. As a matter of fact, the ink is still drying on our

divorce papers.”

“So how long were you going to wait to tell the family you were divorced?”
Every cousin in the bridal shop froze in their tracks. No one had noticed that Debra

Reed had waltzed into the shop, grabbed a glass of champagne, and managed to intrude
into the conversation all in one swift motion. No matter how old she got, Isabelle still felt
like a child around her. Aunt Debra was still that loud, imposing woman who had an
opinion about everything except the behavior of her own kids. Standing there with her
hand on her hip and that scowl on her face, she still had the power to make adult women
freeze like deer caught in headlights.

“I wasn’t aware that I had to tell anyone.” Isabelle fidgeted with her shoulder sling.
“Why would you want to keep that a secret?” Aunt Debra said. “Did you cheat on

Ned?”

“No,” Isabelle said in a low voice.
“You young women don’t know how to be wives in this day and age. You want

careers and to have all this freedom and independence and still be married. And forget
about having kids.” Aunt Debra rolled her eyes.

“There is a big difference between keeping a secret and wanting privacy. The end of

my marriage was painful, and I didn’t want to look like some fragile, hot mess in front of
my family and friends.” The corners of Isabelle’s eyes burned as she fought back tears.

“We don’t think of you as fragile, Izzy.” Candace gave her a hug. “You’re one of the

strongest women I know.”

“Then why did you get divorced?” Aunt Debra said.
Isabelle sniffed and let go of Candace. “We’ve been growing apart the last few years

and he changed. He was turning into someone I didn’t recognize anymore. But the nail in
the coffin was the cheating. He had an affair with some bitch from his job.”

Aunt Debra scoffed. “Why didn’t you steal him back?”
“If he were a priceless Picasso, maybe I would have.” Isabelle narrowed her eyes.
Aunt Debra wagged her finger at her. “Maybe that’s why he left. You aren’t taking

this very seriously.”

Isabelle stood. “Aunt Debra, the days of standing by your man while he publicly

humiliates you are long gone. This is the new day of ‘If he cheats, he’s lucky if he leaves
with his balls intact.’ Once is enough to be unfaithful. There are too many men on this
planet to focus on the one who can’t honor his marriage commitment and keep his
zipper shut when he’s not home.”

“Good for you, Izzy,” her cousin Denise blurted out, then hid behind a rack of

bridesmaids’ dresses.

“What do your parents have to say about this?” Aunt Debra raised an eyebrow.
“They were very supportive and understanding.” Isabelle smiled pointedly. Her

parents’ reaction had been surprising and refreshing. The colonel had been outraged,
but he was coming around and accepting that his little girl could take care of herself.

“Ned’s lucky Uncle Lucas didn’t pay him a visit.” Dana grimaced.
“It took some convincing for my father not to send a missile to Ned’s new

residence.” Isabelle shook her head.

Aunt Debra leaned forward. “I don’t get you or that Morgan. You do these big, life-

altering things and feel you don’t have to tell anybody.”

“Morgan and I have the same issue with privacy. I don’t see you being all intrusive

in your daughter’s life and broadcasting it to everyone. But I forgot, gossip is only juicy
when it’s not about one of your kids.”

“You watch your mouth, missy.”
“Charisma is a tornado in stilettos, wreaking havoc where ever she goes, but I’m

weak and crazy for not staying in a bad marriage or fighting for something that’s no
longer worth the effort?” Isabelle widened her eyes.

“You’ll regret it, leaving him like that. Ned was a good man who made a very good

living. He made a mistake, and you turned your back on him.”

Isabelle rubbed her cast. “Leaving him was the best decision I ever made. And if you

can’t be happy for me, at least respect my decision to live my own life.”

Aunt Debra put her champagne flute down and marched off in the direction of the

ladies’ room. As if the moment wasn’t tense enough, Charisma came floating through
the door, giving everybody that damn beauty pageant wave she used to do when they
were kids.

“What did I miss?” Charisma said as she sashayed into the bridal shop and dumped

her purse on the couch.

Everyone looked at her, then erupted in laughter.

“Your mother was just berating Isabelle for getting a drama-free divorce,” Dana

said.

Their cousin Robin yelled, “Charisma, you still trying to convince Lamont to come to

the wedding with you?”

Charisma smirked. “I’m working on it.”
“What part of breakup don’t you understand?” Dana said as she inspected her gown

in the mirror.

Charisma rolled her eyes. “Lamont is complicated. He’s just playing hard to get.”
“Why don’t you act like a Reed for once and show some class?” Cousin Paula said as

she fussed with the bridesmaid dress she was trying on. “Let that man go. He has terrible
manners anyway.”

Dana shook her head at Charisma. “Why are you late? I told you come on time or

don’t come at all.”

Charisma ignored her and looked at Isabelle instead. “How long have you been in

town?”

“Good to see you too, Charisma.” Isabelle rolled her eyes at her.
“Where are you staying?” Charisma continued.
“Are you a reporter now?” Dana asked. “She’s staying with Morgan.”
“Wait a minute? Isn’t Tate McGill in town and staying at their house?” Charisma put

her hand on her hip.

“How would you even know that? And so what if he is? You gonna concoct a story

about the two of them and sell it to the tabloids too, Little Ms. Snitch?” Dana glared at
Charisma.

“Surely Charisma has better things to do than skulk around the Ashcroft looking for

dirt on her own family.” Isabelle looked at Charisma.

Charisma rolled her eyes at Isabelle and stomped off in search of champagne. Her

cousin Beverly asked a few more questions about the divorce, but the consensus was that
they supported Isabelle’s decision to be free from a marriage that was making her
miserable. Aunt Debra came back from the ladies’ room and tried to get in a few more
jabs, but no one was listening to her. Isabelle’s cousins began thinking of ways to boil
Ned alive or kidnap him and ship him to another part of the world. Aunt Debra and
Charisma were the only two who didn’t join in on the revenge fantasies. By the time her
cousins in the bridal shop spread the word, the entire family would know she was
divorced. Now all she had to do was get ready for round two at the wedding.

* * *

Tate had had another sleepless night, but this time it was due to Izzy’s bubble bath

antics. He showered in cold water for a good half hour, trying to get control back of his
body. As he dried himself off, he thought about wrapping Isabelle in that plush towel
and had to get back under the cold water again.

His phone pinged with a text from Channing saying he’d be stopping by later on in

the week. Tate texted back that now was not a good time. Channing responded he knew
Morgan’s cousin was there and that something was awry. He threatened to come to
Philadelphia and bust up whatever it was Tate didn’t want him to see but would stay
away if he’d let him borrow the Ferrari the next time he came home. Channing was a
cunning little weasel, and Tate was sure he’d picked the right career as an attorney. Tate
responded back that it was a deal. None of them had ever fought over women, but he
didn’t want Channing’s charming ass at the penthouse. His phone pinged again. Tyler
wanted the same deal to stay away. Tate was going to get both those little pricks the next
time they were all home.

Morgan and Seth would be back in a few days, so he had one last chance to spoil

Jake rotten. He was looking forward to the trip to the toy store. This afternoon he would
let Jake go nuts with the finger paints and they’d be cleaned up well before dinnertime.
Isabelle had sent a text saying Sydney was sending more mac and cheese, so it would be
a pleasant evening all around.

* * *

Tate’s manager called and asked if he would do an interview for the local morning

show in Philadelphia. He agreed and asked Isabelle and Jake to come along. As soon as
the elevator doors opened, a flurry of people rushed Tate. There was a lot of activity
going on, but he managed to grab a hold of Isabelle’s elbow and kept her close to him.
He was the calm in the middle of the storm of people asking questions and giving him
instructions. Xander, the producer, assured him Jake and Isabelle would be fine, but Tate
accompanied them to the green room and refused to get ready until he was sure they
were comfortable.

“You sure you don’t want to sit out in the audience? They have a front-row seat for

you.” He played with the brim of his hat.

Isabelle shook her head. “That’s OK. They don’t usually let kids sit in the audience.”
“He’s not just any kid.” Tate rubbed Jake’s head.

“They’ll pan on me holding Jake in the audience and he’ll steal your thunder.

Besides, I hear he’s prone to spontaneous cursing from time to time. I wonder where he
learned those words.” Isabelle squinted her eyes at him.

“We’ve all curbed using racy words around him. He hasn’t said one wild thing since

I’ve had him.”

“Jackass!” Jake said and clapped his hands.
“We’ll stay here.” Isabelle gave Tate an expectant look.
“If you need anything, just ask Beatrice.” He pointed to a woman holding a

clipboard. “This shouldn’t take long.”

Isabelle smiled. “This is all very exciting. You get to do this all the time?”
“More than I’d like to, but being a musician requires a certain amount of marketing

to guarantee longevity.”

“And the fan club isn’t bad either, right?” Isabelle raised an eyebrow.
He glanced over at the woman who was trying to eat a bagel seductively for his

benefit. “I’m just a nice piece of country eye candy to those girls.”

“Uncle Tate.” Jake pointed at the monitor. They had a promo picture of him on

screen.

“I’ll be just a little while and then we’ll be off to the toy store.”
Beatrice approached from behind. “Tate, we’re ready for you.”
“Knock ’em dead.” Isabelle smiled.
As soon as he stepped in the hallway, Tania McCall, the sexy brunette co-host of the

show, approached him.

“Tate McGill, I’m Tania. I am a huge fan of yours.” She extended a finely manicured

hand.

“Thank you for having me on your show, Tania. And it’s always good to meet a fan.”

Tate shook her hand. He tried to pull away but Tania wouldn’t let go.

“I’ve been dying to get my hands on you.” Tania moved closer.
“Well, it’s fortunate I happen to be in town visiting family.” Tate twitched his nose.

Tania’s perfume was invading his nostrils.

“Your new single is different, but I liked it. Can we expect more of cross genres work

from you?”

He laughed. “I thought we’d cover those topics when the camera gets rolling.”
“I was hoping to do a more…intensive interview with you. I would love to have you

over for dinner while you’re in town. Who knows, I may even give you some material for
that new album you’re working on,” Tania cooed.

“That’s an awfully tempting offer, but I’m going to have to take a rain check.”
“Too bad. But if you change your mind”—Tania reached into her cleavage and

produced a business card—“give me a call.”

He swallowed hard as he watched Tania saunter away toward the sound stage. He

was tuned up in the worse way. Being near Isabelle had him in a perpetual state of
horniness he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager. A date with Tania could
alleviate that stress and he could have kept his word about staying away from Isabelle.
But if he were going to satisfy an itch, he wanted Isabelle, not some convenient stand-in
he’d just met.

Since when did he keep his eyes fixed on one woman?

* * *

Isabelle watched on the monitor as Tate gave a great interview. Tania, the host,

teased him about that duet with Lana at the awards show, but he brushed it off as an
embellished performance. He went on to talk about his upcoming album and how he was
getting ready to dive back into his work. When Tania asked if he was up for another
collaboration, Tate said he would definitely consider it if the chemistry was right
between him and the other artist. She alluded to him being a ladies’ man, but he made a
quip about enjoying his single status. Some of the women in the audience yelled raunchy
expletives in response to that. The audience applauded Tate into the commercial break.

Isabelle’s cell phone rang. She looked at the display. It was Ned. He’d never taken

this much interest in her their entire marriage, now he was calling every day. Tate’s
prank had clearly infuriated him. Jake was playing with his toy truck, so she decided to
take the call.

“Hello,” she said as calmly as possible.
“How long are you going to be in Philadelphia?”
“Hello to you too, Ned. Your social skills have taken a dive. Most people begin a

conversation with a greeting.”

“Are you dating that asshole who answered your phone? Is that why you were in

such a hurry to get a divorce?”

“No, your cheating was the inspiration for the divorce. Stop blaming everyone else

for your actions.”

“If I could see you again, we could talk this out. I’m open to counseling like you

suggested.”

“That was two years ago.” She ran her hand over her cast.
“I still love you. Brittany meant nothing to me. I can see that now.”
“If you loved me, you would let me be.”

After Tate finished his segment, he was walking back to the green room in a good

mood. The Lana incident was losing steam, which made him happy. Tania had given him
a few flirty looks and had even crossed her legs seductively in a way that should have
been illegal for television, considering she was wearing a tight skirt. But she’d kept the
interview professional while keeping that girl-next-door persona intact. She hadn’t asked
about the social media fight that had occurred between Lana and Morgan’s family. They
were a feisty bunch of women, for sure. He loved that about Morgan. When she loved
someone, she got down in the trenches with them. Seth always talked about how much
she supported him. Now she was looking out for him as well.

“I loved you too…”
Tate heard Isabelle ending a call on her cell phone as he entered the room. She could

be talking to only one person, that thorn-in-the-side ex-husband of hers. Tate closed his
eyes for a second, and he was back there again, in that dirty kitchen, listening to his
parents. It was the aftermath of a fight, and Joe was trying to talk his way into the house
again. Tate was eight this time and was old enough to read the restraining order that Lila
had taped to the fridge when she’d come home from the police station. Joe came in with
a bouquet of flowers, despite her protests, and began his smooth talking. The phone was
on the kitchen wall, all Lila had to do was pick it up and he would have been gone from
their lives for good.

He looked at Isabelle. All she had to do was disconnect the call and she would be

free in many ways she didn’t realize yet.

“You two ready to hit the toy store?” Tate said as he got closer to her.
Isabelle looked up at him and smiled. “Sounds great.”
Tate picked up Jake from the seat, slung his bag filled with toys and essentials over

his shoulder, and headed for the hallway.

“Ned again?” Tate tried to sound as casual as possible as he punched the elevator

button.

“Yes. Who knew divorce was more complicated than marriage?” Isabelle sighed.
“Maybe he wouldn’t call if you stop telling him that you love him,” He said.
Isabelle and Jake looked at him like he had two heads.
“What are you talking about?”
“I heard you tell him you loved him.”
“So you were eavesdropping on my conversation?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I was. You’re sending him mixed signals.” He moved closer

to her.

“I told him I loved him too, past tense. Do you hear that letter d on the end of the

word love? And why are you so interested in whether or not I love my ex-husband?”

Tate swallowed hard. “He doesn’t deserve you. Don’t let him trick you into falling

for his bullshit again.”

“There were some good times. It wasn’t always lies and betrayal. But I have no

intention on being a fool for him twice in this lifetime.”

“Oh.” Well, he felt like a world-class idiot.
“Besides, he’s convinced himself I won’t give him another chance because I’m

involved with you.” She looked into his eyes.

“Don’t tell him otherwise. Let him think he lost you to a man who appreciates you

and cares about you.” He grinned.

“Thank you.” She caressed his arm.
“For what?”
“For not wanting me to make the same mistake twice.”
They stepped onto the elevator. Isabelle pushed the button for the ground floor.

When she moved back, she accidentally brushed the back of Tate’s hand with her arm.
She began fidgeting with her shoulder sling, then put her arm back down. This time
when she brushed against his hand, Tate caught hers and held it. She didn’t pull away,
and he didn’t want to let go.

* * *

Tate and Jake walked around the toy store playing with everything in sight while

Isabelle had her hands full getting Tate to control his impulse buying. She took pictures
with her phone as he and Jake played in the aisles and even sat down at some point and
began playing a xylophone. Soon they made their way to the sports equipment area, and
Tate ran the “ice cream” play with Jake. He obliged when Tate told him to go long, which
in Jake’s case was a mere six inches, and successfully caught the ball. Jake then spiked
the ball like Seth did when he scored a touchdown and did a little victory dance. Isabelle
sent a few of the pics to Morgan and Seth. No way would Jake forget this day. By the time
they made it to the register, Tate had racked up an outrageous bill.

As Tate paid for the toys, the cashier commented that their son was a handsome

little boy. Isabelle and Tate locked eyes, each waiting for the other to correct the cashier.
Tate finally managed a thank-you and proceeded to gather up all the bags. They loaded
up the Range Rover, and she expected to go back to the penthouse, but from the voice
directions of the GPS, they were headed to her Uncle Curtis’s house.

“I called Sydney this morning, and she said it was OK for us to stop by,” Tate

answered her question before she could ask it. “Actually, she said I shouldn’t have asked
to come by. I’m family and I don’t need to announce myself.”

“And she means it.” Isabelle watched the scenery out the window until she felt

Tate’s eyes on her. “Is something wrong?”

“Why didn’t you come to Jake’s party?”
Isabelle sighed. “I was in the middle of divorce proceedings and too busy at home

feeling sorry for myself. I woke up with raccoon eyes. I went to bed with raccoon eyes. I
didn’t want to depress the whole state of Texas, but it sounds like I missed out on the
party of a lifetime.”

“Don’t worry. The Blakes are known for grand affairs. Jake’s first birthday party was

guaranteed to be an extravaganza, but I’m sure they’ll be another amazing party.”

“The Blakes like to have fun, huh?”
“We’re all about being with family. I know that sounds corny, but we enjoy each

other’s company.”

“Not at all, I totally get what you mean. The Reeds are like that. Probably a little

louder than your family, but we value moments when we can all be together. I’m an only
child, but I never felt like it. I’ve always had tons of cousins.”

Before Isabelle knew it, they were in front of her uncle’s house and Tate was opening

the car door for her.

Sydney practically flew off the front porch when she saw them. “How was the

taping?”

“It went very well.” Tate kissed her on the cheek.
“Does it grate your nerves? Seth says sometimes interviews can be daunting.”

Sydney ushered them into the house.

“I like morning show interviews. They’re usually light and fun. I didn’t sing because

I didn’t have my band with me. I don’t perform without them.” Tate removed his hat.

“Tate, Curtis is out in the backyard. He decided to fire up the grill since you were

coming over. He went out and got some steaks.”

“Jake, let’s go see what good grub your grandpa is cooking up.” Tate turned back to

Sydney and smiled. “You have a lovely home, Sydney, thank you for inviting me.”

“You can squash the niceties, cowboy. We’re family. Anytime you’re in town I hope

you know you don’t need an invitation.”

“Thank you.”
Tate was barely out of the room with Jake when Sydney turned her laser beam on

Isabelle. “I’m putting the finishing touches on a cake in the kitchen. Want to help?”

“Sure.” Isabelle followed her into the kitchen.
“So, how did you like seeing Tate in action?” Sydney smiled.

“I was having a great time until Tate overheard me on the phone with Ned and

assumed I was taking him back.” She tapped her fingers on the kitchen table.

“Tate likes you.” Sydney hit her with her hip.
“I don’t think so.” Isabelle shook her head.
“You two have…chemistry. I could see it when he opened the door for you. You were

helping Jake, and he was smiling at you.”

“And you can tell all this because the man opened the car door for me?”
“When two people have great chemistry, it’s like an aura that surrounds them. You

like him too. Admit it.”

“Well, yes, he’s attractive.”
Sydney looked at her.
“OK, he’s gorgeous and a nice guy. A complete contradiction of what I thought he’d

be like.” Isabelle drew a deep breath. She hadn’t been able to tell anyone about the real
attraction she felt toward the man who, before a week ago, was some random celebrity
she’d fantasized about. Surely it was OK to tell Sydney.

“I let him touch my violin.” Isabelle sighed.
Sydney furrowed her eyebrows. “Hmmm…is that some new sexual lingo?”
Isabelle’s face burned with a blush. “No!”
Sydney shrugged. “I didn’t know.”
“I mean, I don’t let anyone touch my violin. He helped me with a problem I was

having with one of my music students.”

“Still sounds sexual to me, but that’s good news!” Sydney beamed.
“Is it?”
“You’re divorced. What’s wrong with having some fun with a gorgeous man?”
“I feel like…I’m standing on the beach and Tate is a tidal wave come right at me.”

Isabelle chewed on her lip.

“Not a bad way to drown, if you ask me.” Sydney winked at her while she spread

icing on the cake.

Isabelle sank further into a chair. “Tell me about it.”
“Just stay open to the possibilities. OK?” Sydney rubbed her arms.
“I’ll try.”
“Feeling any better?”
“The pain comes and goes but I’m trudging along.” Isabelle accepted the glass of

lemonade Sydney offered her.

“How’s the new apartment?”
“Cozy. But I miss my garden.” She closed her eyes.
“Honey, things will get better. Divorce turns your world upside down. Jared stayed

with us for a while after his divorce. Once he cleared his head he found a nice apartment

that was to the liking of his finicky architect tastes.” Sydney patted her hand.

“Well, it’s a good thing he had family close by.”
“Did you ever think about moving back to Philadelphia? I’m sure you could get a

spot on the symphony orchestra here. You don’t have to be alone, you know. You’re
related to half the city.”

“I have been thinking about a fresh start, but I don’t know. First I’ll have to see if I

still have a career after the rehab.” Isabelle ran her hand along her cast.

“I’m sure your arm will heal fine.”
“But…what if it doesn’t?” Isabelle looked down at the floor.
“Isabelle, you are a talented person. I know that violin is an appendage to you, but I

also know you possess other great qualities. If for some reason, you couldn’t play again
the way you want, then it would be a good time to take a new direction in your life.
Maybe with a new person too.”

“Sydney.” Isabelle cleared her throat.
“I’m just saying,” Sydney muttered and continued putting frosting on the cake.

* * *

Tate had to return a few business calls he’d been putting off, so Isabelle volunteered

for bath duty with Jake. Isabelle and Jake had a great time leading a parade of rubber
duckies around and had even managed to capsize a sailboat. By the time they’d finished
playing, Jake had his favorite jammies on and was sleeping soundly before she’d finished
reading him a book.

Isabelle changed her clothes and decided to get some fresh air on the terrace. It was

a lovely spring evening. The weather had been waffling from hot to cold since she’d
arrived in town, but today was a nice prelude to springtime. She didn’t see Tate in the
living room or study, so she assumed he’d turned in early tonight.

She stepped out on the terrace with her violin and made sure the lock wasn’t on the

door. She took her violin out of the case, walked to the railing, and looked out at the
sparkling lights of the city.

“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” a voice came from the other side of the terrace.
Isabelle turned around to see Tate lying on a lounger, barefoot, with his guitar in his

hand.

“What are you doing out here?”
“Looks like we had the same idea.” He held up his guitar.

She looked at the door. “Are we bad babysitters? What if we get locked out and Jake

roams around the house alone and gets hurt?”

“Unless he opens the door with the lion behind it or wants to see Seth’s Heisman

trophy on the top shelf in the war room, he’ll be fine.” Tate waved the baby monitor in
his hand.

Isabelle gave him a skeptical look.
“I have the spare set of keys, which has the terrace door key on it in my pocket, the

war room is locked, and I have Morgan’s high-powered listening device. It took her and
my momma four months to find this thing. On that last dial you could probably talk to
an astronaut in space. So there.” He stuck his tongue out at her.

“So this isn’t your first babysitting rodeo?” She grinned.
“No, ma’am. How long has it been?” He motioned to her violin.
“Too long.” She sighed.
Tate put his guitar down and came toward her. He faced her forward, gripped her

hips, and pulled her body to him. He took the violin out of her hand, positioned it
against her shoulder for her, and kept it there. Realizing what he was doing, she put her
chin on the chinrest and raised her bow to the strings.

“You wouldn’t happen to know any classical music, would you?” she whispered.
“Let’s see, how about Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E minor, Op 64, movement

two?”

Isabelle’s eyes widened at his choice. That was one of her favorite pieces. “Good

choice.”

Isabelle glided her bow along the strings as Tate pressed his fingers to the

fingerboard. They played together for a while, and she became so comfortable with the
rhythm, she barely noticed his other hand splayed lightly on her waist. She leaned back
against the defined muscles in his arms and chest, his breath soft on her ear. His mouth
moved from the tip of her ear down to her neck. She let out a moan as he moved his hand
from her hips, traveled up her stomach, and cupped her breast. She stilled his hand as he
ran his thumb over her nipple. A small voice screamed through the pleasure that she
could end up as another sexy footnote in his music catalog.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she whispered.
“Hell, it’s the best idea I’ve had all day.”
“You know anything about tidal waves?”
“You scared you’ll be swept away?” Tate chuckled against her ear.
“Yes.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Isabelle let Tate continue to caress her, overriding that nagging voice, and gave in to

him playing her just as he did her violin. His body was calling out to hers, and she had no

power to resist it.

Tate let out a deep sigh. His intention really had been to help her play her violin. He

could see how much she missed it. But as soon as they’d begun playing, the smooth
striking motions she made with her bow got him hot and bothered. Back and forth, in a
slow, smooth rhythm building up to a passionate musical haze. When he ran his thumb
over her nipple, he felt her knees buckle and a low feral-like growl escaped her lips, but
she didn’t stop playing. She was a consummate professional whose dedication to her
craft was endearing, but there were more important things to do.

Tate removed the violin from her shoulder and the bow from her hand and carefully

set it down in its case. Isabelle tried to turn to face him, but he kept her positioned with
her back against his chest. He pulled her closer to him so she could feel the physical
reaction she evoked in him. The feel of her firm bottom against him made him want to
rush, but he knew he had to take his time with a woman like Isabelle. Cautious in every
way imaginable, he knew he hadn’t gotten this far because of a whim. She wanted him
now just as she’d wanted him in the library when he was about to kiss her and she
freaked.

Tate pulled the spaghetti strap of her tank top with his teeth, thankful she didn’t

have a bra on. He continued his sensuous massage of her naked breast while he moved
his other hand between her legs. He played with her taut nipple, rolling it between his
fingers. She fit perfectly in his hands, as though she were made just for him. When he
kissed her neck again, she rubbed his face.

“Tate?” Isabelle moaned.
“Yes, Izzy?” he whispered.
“Should we be doing this?”
“Let’s save our regrets for tomorrow.”
Tate couldn’t see it, but he could feel her smile. He tugged at her jeans until they

were in a puddle on the terrace floor in front of them. He slipped his hands inside her
panties and began to caress her clit with his thumb, steadily increasing the movements.
He could feel the coiled tension build up like a volcano ready to erupt until she couldn’t
stand it anymore and climaxed. They stood there for a moment while Tate kept his
fingers inside her, holding her close. Isabelle leaned her head back against his chest and
sighed. The sound of thunder and a sprinkle of rain brought them out of their haze.

“You have the softest skin I’ve ever felt in my life.” He kissed her neck.
“It’s going to rain,” Isabelle murmured.
“It already did.” Tate held up his hand with evidence of her climax dripping from his

fingers.

Isabelle swatted his hand away. “We’d better get inside.”
Tate turned her around and nipped at her bottom lip. She opened her mouth, and he

dove in with his tongue. Their tongues met stroke for stroke as he pulled Isabelle against
his erection. She reached down and caressed him through his jeans, then slowly pulled at
the belt buckle and unzipped him. Tate caught his jeans as they fell onto the terrace floor
and pulled his wallet out to retrieve a condom. He slipped it on in record time. He gave a
firm tug and Isabelle stepped out of her lace panties.

Isabelle grabbed hold of his neck, and Tate lifted her up as if she were light as a

feather and brought her back down on him. They both let out a moan as their bodies
connected. Just as he’d imagined, Isabelle fit like a glove over him. A thousand different
emotions flooded through him as he began to rock into her, careful not to scrape her
back again the railing. Another thunderclap rippled through the air, followed by a heavy
downpour. Isabelle wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her hands through his
hair.

“Izzy, you feel so good. Too good,” he said, his voice ragged.
Isabelle leaned her back over the railing as Tate trailed kisses from her neck down to

her full breasts where he licked and teased. Isabelle leaned forward and kissed him too.
She nibbled at his neck and his ears while they kept in time with the steady rhythm of his
thrusts. The rain was now coming down hard, Tate’s T-shirt was soaked, and the bun on
top of Izzy’s head was drooping backward. As the rain fell onto her skin, he sucked her
nipple like a thirsty man in the dessert.

“Tate,” she whispered.
He looked up at her, and that’s when he knew that he’d been missing out on

something in his life. Something wonderful. Something that had the potential to break
his heart.

Tate picked up the tempo, and the rain continued. He gripped Isabelle’s waist when

he felt that hard rush in his balls he knew he couldn’t control. Hell, he didn’t want to
control it. He growled as he came, hoping he wasn’t holding her too tightly. She came
with him, grasping onto his back and laying her head on his shoulders.

“I’ve got to get you inside,” Tate said when his voice had finally returned.
Isabelle gave him a loopy smile as he took her into the house and straight to his bed.

* * *

Isabelle woke up to find Tate curled around her, their legs entwined beneath the

sheets. She looked at the clock; it was three in the morning. She should have taken her
meds hours ago but grinned when she thought of the reason why she’d missed taking
them. A certain smoking-hot country-western singer had been giving her a workout. She
was sore as hell and would probably need to upgrade to a full-body cast in the morning,
but it was totally worth it. They’d made love four times, and she still ached for him. Tate
had stretched her to all her limits physically and emotionally. She’d never experienced
sex in such a raw, carnal way before, and she had the bites to prove it. She tried to move,
but Tate’s muscled arm, draped over her waist, prevented her from getting out of the
bed.

“Where do you do think you’re going?” He rubbed his cheek along the curve of her

neck.

“I have to take my meds.” She groaned.
“I know but I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” He pointed to her pill bottles. A

pitcher of water and a glass sat on the night table.

She turned and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“Taking your medicine on time is essential to your recovery.” Tate reached over to

the night table, poured her a glass of water, and handed her the pills.

Isabelle looked at Tate for a moment. She hadn’t noticed the small scar above his eye

before. She ran her thumb over it. “What happened here?”

“Old war wound,” he murmured.
Those probing, hypnotic blues eyes looked as if they had seen so much.
“What is going on in that head of yours, Isabelle Reed?”
“This is not the Tate McGill I imagined.” Isabelle kissed the scar.
Tate drew her closer to him until she was flush against his body. His cock twitched

between them. Isabelle took him in hand and gently ran a finger over the tip of his cock.
Tate groaned, and his body tensed in response.

In one swift move, Tate had her on her back. Isabelle closed her eyes as Tate took

her nipple in his mouth and bit down. Tate parted her legs and began to stroke her with
his long, nimble fingers. She reached for his forearm, urging him to burrow deeper
within her.

“Isabelle,” he rasped.
She opened her eyes to see his were at least three shades darker. Tate reached into

the nightstand and retrieved a condom. Then, without warning, he picked her up by her
waist, repositioned the pillows on the bed, and placed her back down on her stomach
with her ass slightly up in the air. He made sure the arm in the cast rested on its own
pillow.

Tate ripped open a condom packet and slid it on with expert precision. He knelt

behind her on the bed, grabbed hold of her waist, and sank into her. They both groaned

in unison. She was at a disadvantage with the broken arm, but she got the feeling that
was what he wanted—to give her unbridled pleasure on his terms. Tate stopped
momentarily to spread her legs farther apart, then continued his long strokes, deepening
each time and getting closer to her most sensitive spot. Isabelle’s whole body reacted to
him, then he stopped again, this time pulling her up and cupping her breasts with his
hands. The stubble from his face scrubbed the back of her neck, sending a tingling
sensation through her body. His hands had touched every part of her body. He reached
in front of her and rubbed her clit again. Tate leaned her forward and resumed his
thrusts, pounding into her. She bit her lip to stifle the scream aching to get out of her
lungs as Tate thrust hard one last time and collapsed onto her.

* * *

Around six in the morning, Tate jolted out of his sleep in a cold sweat. He’d had

another nightmare. He was back in the kitchen from his childhood, and his parents were
arguing. Joe grabbed Lila and shoved her against the wall. Tate ran to the other side of
the kitchen to help his mother up off the floor. He reached out to help her up, but it was
Isabelle. She was bruised and crying. Tate rolled over on his side, trying to get his
bearings straight. He reached over to the other side of the bed to find it empty. Where
was Isabelle? When they’d finally fallen asleep after the last lovemaking session, she’d
been cuddled beside him.

There was a note on the pillow.

Jake will be up soon. I’ll make breakfast.
Izzy

Tate took a whiff of the pillow that Isabelle had slept on. Her scent still lingered. She

was right; Jake usually awoke around six thirty. That would give Tate time to take a
shower and straighten up a bit. Seth and Morgan were coming home today. It was hard
to believe two weeks had passed. It was even harder to believe he’d only known Izzy for a
week and a half, but it felt like forever. Taking care of Jake and spending time with
Isabelle had wrecked his chances of writing wicked songs for that salacious new album
he had due out in five months. He knew he was not the same man he was when he came
to Philadelphia. And he didn’t know what to do about it.

Chapter Seven

Isabelle would remember that night for the rest of her life. But she hadn’t wanted to

face Tate the morning after, so she slipped out while he was asleep. After leaving her
note, she jumped into the shower to get ready for Morgan and Seth’s homecoming. The
days had flown by in a whirlwind, and she was sad to see them end. Next weekend was
Dana’s wedding, and then she would be going back home to Georgia. She didn’t know
when Tate was leaving. The subject hadn’t come up. Would he leave as soon as Morgan
and Seth arrived? Had he planned to stay for a while? The prospect of an extended stay
both excited and scared her. Each day she spent with him, the attraction between them
grew. So what would they do now that they’d slept together? She wasn’t very
sophisticated about the ways of hooking up, but she knew Tate was probably an expert.
The idea of being just friends made her heart sink. She’d given him a piece of her soul
last night, and it wouldn’t be that easy to pretend that it didn’t mean anything. But Tate
did this all the time. The last thing she wanted to do was sit across from him like a love
sick puppy while he moved on to his next conquest.

Isabelle got dressed and went into the kitchen to start breakfast. God bless him, Jake

was like a natural alarm clock. The past week and a half she’d bonded with him and Tate,
and they felt like a family. Plenty of strangers assumed they were a couple with a son,
and it made her feel good that someone would think she was a mother. She was going to
miss that connection.

Tate walked into the kitchen with Jake in his arms. He wore a pair of jeans and a T-

shirt that said Bright Star Saloon. He looked good, refreshed even.

“Good morning, Isabelle.” Tate smiled and put Jake in his chair.
“Good morning.” She put Jake’s cereal bowl on the table. “Jake, mommy and daddy

will be home today!”

“Yay!” Jake clapped.
Tate walked toward her, and suddenly she felt nervous. Was he going to kiss her?

No, he went to the fridge to get out the orange juice.

“I hope you like waffles and bacon,” she mumbled, disappointed he didn’t try to

sneak a kiss.

“That sounds great,” he said as he got two glasses from the cupboard.
Tate’s cell phone rang. Isabelle nearly jumped out of her skin; she wasn’t used to

hearing it. Instead of letting it go to voicemail like he usually did, Tate took the call.

“Excuse me.” He dashed out of the kitchen. “Hey, Sheree…”
Isabelle heard him mention the woman’s name as he left the kitchen. Perhaps it was

someone he worked with, but the way he’d jumped up like his pants were on fire, it was
probably some woman he’d been seeing. She waited ten minutes, then started without
him. By the time he came back into the room, she and Jake were almost done.

“Sorry about that. That was my manager, Cyril.” He sat down at the table.
She rose from the table with her plate. He’d just lied right to her face. She needed to

get out of there before the morning got any worse. “No problem. So I guess you’ll be
back on the road and focusing on your album now that your babysitting duties are over.”

“That’s the plan.” He winked at her.
Clearly he didn’t want to talk about last night. Surely they wouldn’t have pillow talk

in front of Jake, but she was beginning to feel as though she’d dreamt the whole thing.
This morning’s Tate McGill was that charming rogue that graced the front of his CD
covers, and she didn’t like it one bit.

Isabelle rinsed her plate and put it in the dishwasher. “Speaking of plans, I have

some place I need to be this morning. Do you mind if I leave you alone with Jake?”

“You’re going out?” His hand went still on the syrup.
“Yes.” Isabelle began cleaning Jake up since he was done with his cereal.
“Going to look for that dress for the wedding?” Tate asked.
“No, Morgan and I are going shopping tomorrow. So will you be OK with Jake?” She

felt asinine for asking. Of course the man could handle a one-year-old for a few hours.
They’d just been doing everything together, and it felt rude to leave him in an imaginary
lurch.

“Sure, but you didn’t mention you had plans yesterday.”
“Funny thing about plans—they change all the time.” She shrugged.
“OK…when will you be back?”
Isabelle gave Jake a final once over and kissed him on the cheek. “Probably in the

afternoon.”

Isabelle scurried to her room and retrieved her bag. She needed to get the hell out of

the penthouse before she started to cry.

* * *

Tate looked at his phone for the third time in twenty minutes, trying to decide if he

should call her. Isabelle had been gone for five hours, and he was beginning to worry. It
irked him that she didn’t want to reveal where she was going, and he silenced the voice
in his head that told him it was none of his business. Walking into that kitchen with Jake
and seeing her put breakfast on the table had suddenly become too real and comfortable
to him. They had been living Morgan and Seth’s lives for over a week, and then they had
to go and make love. The intimacy that filled the room had made him angry. This wasn’t
his life. His life was touring, drinking, and loose women. It wasn’t sharing meals with a
beautiful, sophisticated woman and a great kid. It was the life he was sure he could never
have, and there it was mocking him.

Where was she? Did she run off and call Ned? Was there someone else in her life?

He’d never bothered to ask if she was seeing someone back home. He usually had finely
tuned radar for women who belonged to someone else, and he didn’t get that feeling
from her. She’d been in a pretty good rush to get out of the penthouse, but he’d just lied
to her. He didn’t have to accept that call from Sheree. Sheree had been calling him for
over two weeks now. When he’d walked into the kitchen, the first thing he’d wanted to
do was take Isabelle in his arms and kiss her senseless. That was about all he could have
done with Jake in the room. Instead he’d taken the low road and intentionally tried to
hurt her feelings in order to avoid feeling anything himself.

They needed to talk. Tate looked at his nephew, who must have thought he was nuts

for moving his play area to the foyer. He felt like an idiot, but he wanted to make sure
she couldn’t escape to her room when she returned home. The ping of the elevator
signaled someone was coming to the penthouse. The doors opens and Isabelle stepped
out with shopping bags in her hand. She had on an entirely different outfit, a blue
sundress that fell just above the knee, and she’d done something to her hair.

Tate gave her an appreciative once over. “You look nice.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“Izzy pretty!” Jake reached for her.
“Thank you, Jake. You are going to break some hearts when you grow up.” She

kissed him on the cheek. “Poor Morgan is going to be hiding in bushes with a shotgun
for the rest of her life.”

“Seth has a plan in place.” Tate waggled his eyebrows.
“I bet he does.” Isabelle took a deep breath. “Tate, about last night.”
He didn’t want to hear what she was about to say. So, she’d gotten some retail

therapy while she was out. He wasn’t ready to be dismissed from her life despite what an
ass he’d been earlier. Tate stuck his hand in her nest of curls then leaned in and silenced
her with a kiss.

The door opened and startled both of them. Morgan and Seth were home.
Tate wanted to strangle Seth for getting back on time. He was sure Seth had seen the

kiss because he had momentarily distracted Morgan by removing her tote bag from her
arm, giving Tate and Isabelle time to break apart.

“Hi, Mommy!” Jake yelled.
“How’s my baby! I missed you so much!” Morgan pulled Jake out of Tate’s arms.
“Uncle Tate Izzy kissed!” Jake’s gleeful shout sounded like a cannon going off in the

room.

Tate started coughing, trying to cover it up.
Morgan wrapped her arms around Isabelle. “Izzy!”
Isabelle returned Morgan’s hearty hug. A few minutes later Morgan, Isabelle, and

Jake went into the living room. Tate turned to follow, but Seth grabbed his arm and
guided him to the kitchen.

“So how was the vacation?” Tate grinned as he leaned against the kitchen counter.
“We had a great time. Morgan loved Pebble Beach.” Seth rubbed the back of his

neck and got a bottle of water from the fridge. “How were things here?”

Tate shrugged. “Jake was an angel. Not a bit of trouble.”
“Any new developments?”
Tate hung his head. “There was one.”
“I know. I saw you kissing her.” Seth smirked.
“Isabelle and I have been getting acquainted.” His cheeks burned.
“You two took a CPR class together?” Seth raised an eyebrow.
“No.”
“Good. Because I don’t remember slipping somebody your tongue as part of the

procedure.”

“Funny.” Tate threw a spatula at him.
Seth ducked out of the way. “I told you to tread lightly. You cannot have one of your

scandalous adventures with Morgan’s favorite cousin.”

“I heard what you said loud and clear. But it’s not like that with me and Isabelle.

She’s beautiful and classy. She even let me play her violin.”

“Is that some sort of musician’s lingo for hitting the sheets?” Seth scratched his

head.

“No.” Tate folded his arms across his chest. “She’s very attached to her violin.

Musicians get that way about their instruments.”

“That’s right. Loulabelle is off limits to everyone.” Seth laughed.
Tate shook his head. Damn right, no one touched his guitar. “Exactly. We started

talking about music, and things just clicked from there. I even helped her out with her
music class.”

“That was nice of you. Isabelle is a great person with a big heart. So how was your

first brush with domestic life?” Seth sifted through the mail on the counter.

Tate scratched at his beard. “It wasn’t that bad. As a matter of fact…it was better

than I’d thought it would be. Isabelle and I managed quite well.”

Seth looked up. “What?”
Tate closed his eyes. He’d just made a big mistake.
“Baby! Can you come here for a minute?” Seth yelled.
Tate rushed over to Seth. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I can’t be the only person to hear this in case you recant it later.”
Tate put him in a headlock. “Seth Blake, if you breathe a word of this to Morgan I

will kill you. Besides, I didn’t say anything.”

“There was a pause. I heard a pause, and you look guilty as hell. This is big news!”

Seth tried to shimmy out of Tate’s grasp.

“I don’t care if you are a three-time MVP, I will mop the floor with you if you go in

there and tell Morgan. I heard about the way she reacted to Tyler and Michelle sharing a
ride on the Ferris wheel at Jake’s party.”

“That’s different.”
“How so?” Tate stilled.
“Tyler and Michelle are a happy mixture of horny chaos. Clearly you and Isabelle are

two rational people.”

“OK.” Tate cringed. He hadn’t been acting rational this morning when he’d played

the role of nonchalant jerk. “I’d still like to keep this under wraps for the time being.”

“If Morgan thinks I hid this from her, I won’t be getting that football team.”
“Please, you two hump like rabbits. I’d like to know what it would take for you two

not to do it.”

“Not much.” Seth grinned then got a horrified look on his face. “Did you have sex?”
“Jake was asleep. He didn’t see anything. I promise.”
“Sorry, I can’t keep this to myself.” Seth tried to scramble past him.
Tate and Seth were wrestling when Morgan and Isabelle came into the kitchen with

Jake. They both straightened up. Tate tried to play it cool and put his arm around Seth’s
shoulders.

“You two really missed each other, huh?” Morgan scrunched her forehead.
“Morgan, you said Tate and Seth were close, but I didn’t know it was this close.”

Isabelle raised an eyebrow.

Seth gave Tate a hard slap on the cheek. “We were just catching up.”
“Tate, thank you for taking care of Jake and being such a great host to my cousin

while I was away,” Morgan said as she opened the fridge, looking for something to drink.
“I hope you showed her that great southern hospitality of yours.”

“That’s not all he showed her,” Seth mumbled under his breath.
Tate slapped him on the back and was pretty sure he left his handprint there.
Morgan handed off Jake to Seth. “Take your son. It’s time for that sports recap show

you two watch. I am stealing Isabelle so we can catch up while I unpack.”

Tate furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re going to unpack the day you get home?”
“It relaxes me.” Morgan laughed. “When you two stop fondling each other, how

about you figure out what’s for dinner?”

Isabelle followed Morgan out of the kitchen. Jake was rubbing his cheek against

Seth’s five o’clock shadow, so he was temporarily distracted.

Tate took a deep breath. “I have to talk to Isabelle. Give me twenty-four hours and

I’ll babysit for a whole year. I’ll even take Jake on tour if I have to.”

“Deal.” Seth held out his hand.
Tate was left alone in the kitchen. Everyone had just gotten what they wanted except

him. The talk with Isabelle about last night would have to wait.

* * *

When Morgan told her she was taking her shopping for a new dress, Isabelle had

assumed they would be going to a department store, not some ritzy boutique that served
appetizers and champagne when you walked through the door. Normally she shied away
from stuffy places like that, afraid one look at a price tag would blow her budget wide
open. The sales clerks almost tripped over one another when they entered, and one of
them even hugged Morgan and asked about Jake. Morgan told the clerks she and Isabelle
needed to look exceptional for a wedding and the clerks sprang into action, pulling
dresses and setting up dressing rooms for them, but Morgan told them only one would
be necessary since she needed to help Isabelle.

As they undressed Isabelle couldn’t help staring at Morgan’s belly. It was early days

for a baby bump, but she couldn’t resist putting her hand on her stomach. “Motherhood
looks good on you.”

“Thank you, Izzy. I guess I totally went rogue and abandoned our plan for

spinsterhood.” Morgan giggled.

“How many kids do you plan on having?”
“Seth and I have different numbers, but we’re negotiating. I can’t wait until you

have babies. You’d make a great mom. You make a mean peanut butter and jelly.”
Morgan laughed.

“If only it were that simple.” Isabelle blew one of her curls away from her eyes and

slumped into the chair.

“The perfect person is out there for you, I know it.” Morgan stroked her chin.
After a few more hours of shopping, Isabelle and Morgan decided to grab a bite to

eat at a nearby restaurant. Morgan filled her in on the great strides she was making with
her nonprofit organization, Reading Builds Bridges, and her new position as Director of
Volunteer Affairs at the library.

“That’s great. I am so proud of you.” Isabelle beamed.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could do some sort of joint venture?”
Isabelle’s eyes lit up. “That would be great. When the divorce proceedings started,

all of my other efforts kind of fell to the wayside.”

“Why don’t we sit down after the wedding and brainstorm and see what two Reed

brains can come up with? Do you think you could stay in town a bit longer?”

She didn’t want to tell Morgan that her stay would only be extended if Tate were

leaving first. He looked as if he was ready to go, so it probably wouldn’t be an issue.

“I’d like that.” She smiled.
Isabelle took another bite of her lasagna when Morgan’s phone rang.
Morgan glanced at the screen. “It’s Seth. How much you want to bet he’s calling to

say Jake has signed on with the Titans too?”

Isabelle snorted into her food. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Morgan answered the phone with a smirk. “Hey, babe, what’s up?”
Isabelle took a sip of iced tea and stabbed at a piece of her lasagna with her fork. She

froze when Morgan’s eyes grew wide and she placed her hand over her mouth.

“Oh my gosh. Is Tate all right?” Morgan whispered.
Tate? What happened to Tate? Isabelle’s stomach churned as she waited for details

from Morgan. She dropped her fork—the flip in her gut too much for her to have eaten
anymore anyway—and ran to the bathroom, her fingers ahead of her brain and already
dialing Tate’s number before she could even catch her breath.

He answered on the first ring. Isabelle started rambling as soon as she heard his

voice. “Tate? I couldn’t wait for Morgan to finish with Seth. What happened?”

“Lila passed away.”
“Who’s Lila?”
“She’s my…she was my biological mother. She died in a car accident this morning.

Some of the folks at the hospital knew her so they contacted Teri-Lyn.” He sighed.

She put a hand to her heart. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks, Izzy.”
“So, what are your plans?”
“Seth and I are going to hop on his plane and head to Texas. Teri-Lyn and John Jacob

have started the funeral arrangements. I just need to go down there and settle some
things.”

She was about to hang up but then said, “Tate?”
“Yes, darlin?”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“It’s been about ten years.”
“Oh.” She stopped. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but now was

not the time.

Tate cleared his throat. “Listen, I thought we’d have a chance to talk today.”
Isabelle closed her eyes and tightened her grip on her cell phone. She was a big girl.

She’d rehearsed this moment in her mind several times while shopping with Morgan.
She knew getting involved with him would lead nowhere. Why should it? Freshly
divorced, she wasn’t looking for more than what he’d given, a passionate evening that
exceeded every wild fantasy she ever had about him.

“It’s not necessary. We’re both adults. You don’t have to give me the ‘let’s be

friends’ speech.”

The silence was deafening. Finally Tate said, “Yeah, good…”
“Have a safe flight home,” Isabelle squeaked out before she disconnected the call.

* * *

Tate appreciated Seth letting him ride in silence, so he took the time to catch up on

some work during the plane ride. He felt terrible for taking him away from Jake when
they’d just returned from their vacation. Seth’s eyes had lit up when he’d walked
through the door and seen his son. Tate pulled out his notebook. Isabelle’s abrupt
ending of their phone call had been on his mind from the time he started packing.

He had to get a move on that new album. He glanced at what he’d written the past

few days. Surprisingly, notes from Isabelle were scattered throughout the notebook. He
turned the page to song lyrics he’d begun to write and noticed she’d added a few words
that suited the line better with the comment, “Flows better. Your fingers will thank me
later when strumming your guitar.” He smiled. He looked up to see Seth looking at him.
They would be having another conversation about Isabelle soon.

As soon as the plane touched down, Tate froze at the top of steps, not fully knowing

why he didn’t want to get off, but Seth’s comforting hand on his shoulder gave him the
courage to keep moving. Teri-Lyn and John Jacob were waiting for him with open arms.

They went back to the ranch and discussed the funeral arrangements. Tate was fine

with everything that Teri-Lyn and John Jacob had done. Teri-Lyn asked if he wanted to go
to the hospital to see Lila, but he refused nicely. The funeral was the day after tomorrow
at the church the Blakes attended, and the repast would be at the ranch. Teri-Lyn said she
would take care of picking out the clothes and making sure Lila looked good. John Jacob
said that Lila’s apartment was being packed up and the contents would be delivered to
the ranch. Teri-Lyn offered to help him go through her possessions when they arrived.

By early evening every Blake was back on the ranch to support Tate. Having everyone

home showing their love and support reminded him of how lucky he felt to be part of the
family. They all ate dinner together at Teri-Lyn and John Jacob’s and formulated a plan
for the next few days. He retired early to his cabin, bringing Rowdy with him to spend the
night. Tate looked at his phone and thought about Isabelle. He wanted to hear her voice,
but after their conversation earlier, he didn’t know if it was a good idea. Clearly she
wasn’t interested in anything other than the passionate night they’d spent together. But
still he longed to talk to her. Tate found Isabelle’s number in his phone. He had nothing
else to lose.

“Hello?”
“Izzy, did I wake you?” Tate sighed. Her voice sounded like sunshine over the

phone.

“No. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Can you talk?”
She hesitated. “Of course. How are you feeling?”
“I’m still working all that out.”
“Well, the shock of the accident hasn’t worn off. Did you eat anything?”
“Yes, Momma fed us all tonight. Would you believe everyone came home?” He

looked in his cupboard for a doggie treat for Rowdy, trying to keep busy and not say what
he really wanted to say.

“That’s what family does in a time of crisis. Mine is just like that.”
“I know. I’ve met most of your family. They are a crazy, close-knit bunch of people.”

He laughed.

“We’re loud and crazy but essentially harmless.”
Tate laughed again. It felt good to laugh. “You come from good stock, Isabelle

Reed.”

“So do you.”
“Well…” Tate couldn’t finish what he was going to say.
“So do you,” Isabelle repeated.
Tate wondered if his father was going to make an appearance, assuming he was still

alive. Tate had gritted his teeth every time Lila had become nostalgic over his abusive,

alcoholic asshole of a father. He and Lila had agreed that talking about Joe McGill was
not a good thing. She’d long forgiven him, even though he left her two years after they
moved away. It seemed Tate was the strongest link they had to one another. He hadn’t
seen that man since the day he’d showed up drunk to that football game and humiliated
him. John Jacob never talked about what had happened that night he went to the McGill
house. He just knew the next day he was free of his abusive father for good.

“Tate?”
“Yes?” He threw a treat, and Rowdy caught it.
“Even if you feel it, you’re not alone. Remember that when you feel like crawling

inside yourself.” Isabelle sniffed.

“I’ll try.” He smiled.
“You’ve had a long day. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk a while longer.” Tate cleared his throat.
“We can talk as long as you want, cowboy.”

Chapter Eight

Tate sat on his deck watching the sun come up. He hadn’t slept all night but

strangely felt invigorated. He attributed that to Isabelle, who’d talked to him until the
wee hours in the morning. He enjoyed hearing her voice, listening to her stories about
her childhood with Morgan in Philadelphia. They were two peas in a pod and were
indeed more like sisters than cousins.

One of the ranch hands dropped off some boxes of Lila’s things. He contemplated

sifting through the contents but was afraid of what he might find. He wanted to tell John
Jacob to have someone donate everything to charity or junk it, but he was also curious
about what Lila had been doing with her life since they’d been apart. Maybe the boxes
held clues.

He’d sent her his CDs and money, but if it was more than five hundred dollars she

sent it back. Lila would say she only needed enough for rent, which pissed him off
because he’d offered to buy her a house and she refused. Now she was dead, hit by a
drunk driver on her way home from her waitressing job.

Tate grabbed his hat and decided to head to the stables. Maybe a ride to the south

side of the ranch would clear his head. He opened his front door and found J.J. and Seth
standing there.

“Hey.” Seth nodded.
“Feel like some company?” J.J. pointed to the case of beer at his feet.
“Come on in.”
By the afternoon Tate, J.J., Seth, Tyler, and Channing were all perched on the porch,

drinking beers and reminiscing. Tate was even willing to postpone his evil payback plan
for Tyler’s and Channing’s blackmail earlier until Channing started in on him.

“Seth, did Tate tell you he has a thing for Morgan’s cousin Isabelle?” Channing

smirked.

Seth pushed back his Stetson. “He didn’t have to. I caught them smooching when I

came home.”

Tyler pulled up Isabelle’s profile on the Madison Symphony Orchestra website on

his cell phone and passed it around. “I can see why he didn’t want us near the penthouse

the past two weeks.”

“She’s beautiful,” J.J. murmured.
They all looked at him.
“I’m married, not dead, you idiots.” J.J. took a swig of his beer.
“Tyler, how did you find this out?” Tate glared at him.
“Michelle. When I assured her I wasn’t asking for myself, she gave me the

lowdown.” Tyler flashed him a cheesy grin.

“And what does Michelle get for supplying you with all this information?” Seth

chuckled.

Tyler hunched his shoulders. “The next time I’m in town I’m taking her to dinner.”
“Will Morgan be chaperoning?” Channing laughed.
“Probably. I want to thank you, Tate, for taking the heat off me. Maybe Michelle and

I can spend some time together.” Tyler saluted him.

“I doubt it,” the rest of them said in unison.
Tyler punched Seth in the arm. “You could put in a good word for me.”
“I would if I had one.” Seth raised an eyebrow.
“Tate just got felt up on national television by a sexy young pop star, and I’m the one

to worry about?” Tyler yelled.

“Hey, that groping was against my consent.” Tate shook his head.
“He may have stayed away from that singer, but he still had an eventful night.” Seth

smirked.

“Can any of you keep one damn secret?” Tate huffed.
“I didn’t tell anybody Channing went out with Emma Winterbourne last time he was

home,” J.J. said.

Seth nearly choked on his beer. “Emma Winterbourne? Penny’s little sister?”
Channing picked imaginary lint off his jeans. “It was just one date. We all patched

things up at the Bright Star, right? I had a little thing for her when we were in high
school.”

“I think Channing is the winner today.” Tyler whistled.
“So are we cool with the Winterbournes or not?” Tate asked.
“Only if you can go back in time and unsleep with Caine’s wife, Chrissie,” J.J. said.

“Let’s just call it a draw.”

“Girlfriend. She was his on-again, off-again girlfriend at the time,” Tate said.
“I don’t think he wanted you on his girlfriend.” Channing threw a bottle cap at Tate.
“Well, well. What’s going on here?” Their father, John Jacob, bounded up the stairs.
“Nothing,” they all said at once.
“That means you’re talking about women.” John Jacob took a seat in the chair

Channing offered him.

Tyler got up and passed his dad a beer. “Daddy, Channing is dating a

Winterbourne.”

Channing grimaced. “No, I’m not. It was one date to catch up.”
“Emma, right?” John Jacob said.
They all looked at him.
“I know everything.” John Jacob took a swig of his beer. “I hear Tate has a thing for

Morgan’s cousin Isabelle. You love her or what?”

Tate put his hand over his eyes. “She’s beautiful. She has a smile like sunshine and

the sweetest laugh that sounds like music to me.”

“No thanks to Seth, Momma wants all of us to settle down.” Tyler shivered.
“At least Seth is trying to give me grandkids,” John Jacob said. “Tate may actually

have feelings for someone. When J.J. finds the right woman, he’ll have kids too.”

Everyone got quiet, afraid to look at J.J.
“I think we all know the sun is setting on me and Eden,” J.J. said.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Seth put a hand on his shoulder.
“And you.” John Jacob pointed at Channing. “If you’re going to date Emma

Winterbourne, be upfront about it. Don’t go pulling no Romeo and Juliet crap.”

Tate smiled. John Jacob always told it like it was. They were all enjoying the moment

when Bo arrived with Rowdy in tow.

“You sad sacks talking about women?” Bo let out a hearty laugh.
“How did you know?” Seth scratched his five o’clock shadow.
“You all have that dopey look on your faces. John Jacob, did you tell them about the

gravy boat?”

John Jacob laughed. “No, I did not. They’re not ready for the gravy boat.”
Seth raised his hand. “Bo told me about the gravy boat.”
“That’s why you have Jake and one on the way.” Bo winked.
“No, Seth and Morgan just like to hump like rabbits.” Tyler nodded.
“I am not ashamed to say I enjoy making love to my wife.” Seth crossed his arms

over his chest.

“And you two are going to singlehandedly repopulate the planet.” Channing

waggled his eyebrows.

“So what the hell is the gravy boat used for?” Tyler said.
“Bo, I don’t think these young idiots are ready for the gravy boat. But Tate is having

warm and cuddly feelings for Morgan’s cousin.” J.J. smirked.

Tate did his best not to blush.
“That’s right, Isabelle. And C.J. likes living dangerously, so he spends time with

Emma Winterbourne when he’s home.”

“Can anybody in this family keep a secret?” Seth yelled.

They all quieted as if they were pondering a question for the ages.
“Rowdy,” Tate finally said.
The border collie barked in agreement.
They all erupted in laughter.

* * *

Tate took a look at the black suit Teri-Lyn had picked out for him earlier. Tomorrow

was the funeral, and he was no more prepared for it than when he’d first heard the news.

He moved Lila’s boxes from one side of the room to the other and accidentally

tipped over one that hadn’t been sealed. Her Bible fell out. He remembered the Bible. He
flipped through it and found prayer cards and a few notes she’d made next to some of
the passages. Tucked in the center of the book was a picture of him and Lila. They were
standing in the field behind the last house they’d lived in together. They were both
smiling genuine smiles, not the fake one he would put on for people to mask the pain of
what was going on in the house. He flipped the picture over and saw her handwriting:
Tate Matthew, age ten.

Finally he had a happy memory of Lila. He took another sip of his beer and closed

his eyes. For better or worse, he loved her and there was no chance of reuniting with her
someday. Deep down in his heart, he’d always hoped they would.

Tate flung the beer bottle and it hit the wall. The doorbell rang.
He opened it, expecting a family member, but his jaw dropped when he saw Isabelle

standing there. Behind her, sitting in a pickup, were Seth and Morgan.

“Hi.” She smiled.
“Izzy.” Tate ran a hand through his hair. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you could use some company.” She bit her lip.
“Please, come in.” Tate took her suitcase.
They waved to Morgan and Seth, who waved back and drove off in Seth’s pickup.
“Watch your step,” Tate said as he guided Isabelle around the broken glass.
“What happened here?” She looked around the floor.
“I guess I’m just clumsy tonight.”
“Well, let’s clean that up. Rowdy could cut his paws on the glass.” She rubbed the

dog on top of his head.

He sighed. He’d forgotten Rowdy was in the house. “Of course.”
While they cleaned up Isabelle made small talk about the trip down. She’d never

been in a private plane before and was impressed with the staff and the food. He knew
her well enough to know when she started rambling, she was nervous. He was too. She
smiled at him and his heart almost broke in two. He was damn happy to see her, but he
knew it couldn’t have been easy to just up and come to Texas. They cleaned up the mess
and Isabelle vacuumed for good measure to make sure the pieces were all gone.

“I’m glad you’re here, but don’t you have that wedding this weekend?”
“Don’t worry about that.” She put the vacuum back in the closet.
She asked to take a shower, so he helped with a plastic covering for her cast and

showed her the way to the master bathroom. That gave him a chance to make her a cup
of tea.

He walked into the bedroom when she’d finished her shower to find her wearing his

Bright Star Saloon T-shirt. She looked good in it. It was too big for her, but she looked
comfortable. Normally a man with very steady hands, he had to will himself to stop
shaking as he put the cup and saucer on the nightstand.

“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your T-shirt,” she murmured.
He smiled. “Not at all. That’s one of my favorites.”
“What is the Bright Star Saloon?”
“It’s the local watering hole where I got my start. Cal, the owner, was the first person

to ever give me a chance to perform. And”—he rubbed the back of his neck—“the boys
and I get into trouble there every now and again.”

“Ah-ha.” She laughed.
“Listen, I want you to sleep in my bed tonight.”
“I don’t think…” Isabelle awkwardly pulled on the clip in her hair.
He held up a hand. “I will be downstairs on the couch.”
“Oh…”
He looked up and saw that she was doing the pouty thing again. Was she

disappointed?

“That’s OK, I can sleep on the couch. A big man like you doesn’t need a bad night’s

sleep when you have such an important day ahead of you.” She retrieved a pillow from
the bed and headed for the door.

He blocked the doorway. “Hold on now. I’ll have you know I fall asleep downstairs

more than I do in this bed. That couch can hold me, my guitar, Loulabelle, and—”

“Let me guess, at least three women?” She hugged the pillow.
“No, I was going to say a slab of ribs and a bucket of potato salad. I have no idea

how many women that couch can hold because there have never been any women here.”
He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh.” She sat on the bed. “Now I feel like a royal idiot. I just barged in on your

fortress of solitude. I’ll call Morgan. I can stay with her and Seth tonight.”

“The hell you will. You came all the way down here. I’m not going to throw you out. I

want you here,” Tate said a little bit louder than he’d planned.

She gave him a curious look. “Then I guess that’s settled.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I have something I want to show you.” He reached

over and retrieved a remote control from the night table.

“This had better not be a vibrating bed.” She spied the contraption.
He laughed. “I can make the bed vibrate, but this is better. Push the button.”
The look on her face was priceless when the skylight opened. It was clear out, and a

million stars sparkled in the sky.

“This is beautiful.” She widened her eyes. “What do you see when you look up

there?”

“Let’s follow that star in the corner.” Tate guided Isabelle’s gaze across the stars

until she figured out what he was outlining.

“It’s a violin!”
“No, actually it’s a fiddle.”
“Violin,” she insisted. “I play the damn thing for a living. It’s a violin.”
“Woman, that’s a fiddle.”
He was fully prepared to argue with her all night, but she suddenly leaned over and

kissed him. He knew she was just trying to quiet him, and it worked.

“Maybe it is a violin,” he groaned as they pulled apart.
She smirked. “Thought you’d see it my way.”
“You know, when I figured out what it reminded me of, I wondered why I was able

to see a violin when I play the guitar.”

She went silent.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“What happens to me if I can’t play after my physical therapy?”
“I don’t believe there’s a force in the universe that could keep a violin out of your

hands.” He took a deep breath. “Isabelle?”

“Yes?”
“Did you really hurt your arm rock climbing?”
When her body stiffened, he knew the answer. His breathing quickened, and he

started calculating if he could go to Georgia tonight and kick her ex-husband’s ass and be
back in time for the funeral tomorrow morning.

She tightened her hold on the pillow. “I was having a fight with Ned. He came over

drunk one night. I’d never seen him like that. He was trying to make apologies, asking
me to reconsider the divorce even though we’d signed the papers weeks ago. I said no.
He lunged at me, and I tried to get out of the way. I fell near the fireplace.”

He stood up and started pacing. “That asshole needs a good old-fashioned ass

whoopin’. Why the hell are you telling everyone you fell rock climbing?”

She stood up too. “Because of how you are reacting now. I don’t want someone I love

to go to jail for beating Ned to a pulp for what was, for the most part, an accident.”

“You wouldn’t be hurt if he hadn’t come to harass you about taking him back.”
“And I do regret answering the door. I truly thought he was coming to get the rest of

his things. He had a few boxes that I’d told him I was throwing away when I moved.” She
closed her eyes.

Isabelle looked as though she were resisting the urge to cry, which pissed him off

even more.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He stroked her cheek.
She touched his hand. “Ned’s not worth it. I wouldn’t want to see you, my dad, or

any of my cousins getting into trouble because of him. I am free of him.”

“He still calls you.”
“Because his mistress ended up being more high maintenance than he anticipated. I

hear from mutual friends she’s bleeding his bank account dry. It’s a case of buyer’s
remorse.”

“Has he at least bothered to apologize for injuring you? For jeopardizing your

livelihood and the thing you love most in the world?”

“No. But I don’t want his apology. I just want him to stay away from me. I was

dreading telling my family about our split, but in a way it was the greatest thing. They
wanted to skin him alive after I told them he cheated on me. It was nice to see such a
great show of support.”

“Family can surprise you.”
“And my dad would go ballistic if he knew. He’s in the marines and would probably

order a missile airstrike to Ned’s house.”

“That’s how people react when someone they love gets abused.”
“It was only the one time. It wasn’t abuse.”
“Take it from someone who lived with abuse most of his life, please don’t downplay

it.”

“What?”
“My biological mom, Lila, was a singer and had a hell of a voice. She was up and

coming and crossed paths with the wrong man, my father. He promised her the moon
and the stars, so she abandoned her budding career and married him. He was a lousy
drunk who beat her. She drank to numb herself from the beatings. Soon he started in on
me. She didn’t protect me from it. She just drank more and pretended not to see. When it
really started to get bad, the Blakes took me in, and I never went home after that.”

She hugged him, and it was the best feeling in the world having her reach out to

him. It was like last night on the phone, when he’d talked to her until the sun rose. He

didn’t want the peace and the joy he was feeling to end.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?”
“What?” He snapped out of his daydream.
“The bed is big enough for the two of us, and I’d feel terrible having you sleep on

the couch. I promise I won’t try anything.”

Tate didn’t put up a fight when she moved back the covers and pulled him into bed

with her. She fit like a glove next to him as he lay on his back and she cuddled up to his
side, the arm in the cast resting on his chest. Her silky curls fell onto his neck and felt
like feathers brushing against his skin. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to
have this woman in his bed, to be connected to her, and it scared the hell out of him.

She smiled. “Can we leave the skylight open all night?”
“Sure can.” Tate ran a hand through her hair.
Isabelle cuddled closer to him, and it didn’t take long for the soft sounds of sleep to

come from her. She’d had a long day traveling to get there. To be there for him. He was
relieved she’d finally told the truth about what had happened to her arm. The concern
she had for her protectors was touching, but men like Ned increased their aggressive
behavior because no one ever took the time to stop them when they began to act
violently.

Her story sounded like one of the many excuses Lila had made for Joe. He wondered

how many other times Ned had exhibited threatening behavior but she failed to realize
what lurked underneath. The outbursts, the possessiveness, even though they were no
longer married, made warning bells go off in Tate’s head. He was grateful that she
divorced him before he showed his true colors. Tate gazed at the violin constellation
above, wishing he could pull it out of the sky for her.

* * *

After months of hearing Morgan speak about the dynamic Blake family, Isabelle

finally got to see the Blakes in action, and it was surreal to be in the middle of it all. She
felt like she was on the movie set of a modern day Western with so many tall, well-
dressed men in cowboy hats. It was a somber occasion and she was in a church, but
damn, there were a lot of handsome men walking around. She hadn’t been introduced to
anyone, but she encountered a lot of people who seemed to know who she was already.
An older man in particular had been watching her for a while when she’d been outside
taking a walk with Jake. She knew he wasn’t from the ranch, and the way he stared made

her uncomfortable. If she had to, she’d go get one of the Blakes, but for right now it was
more than creepy that he was fixated on her when there was a funeral going on.

Tate was holding up well, maybe a little too well. She didn’t expect him to bawl

during the funeral, but she was hoping he’d find some way to say his last good-byes to
his biological mother. He stood by the casket and looked at her for the longest time. Teri-
Lyn walked up to him and must have said something to cheer him up because he smiled
at her. That was the first time she’d seen that gorgeous smile all day. John Jacob and J.J.
approached them, so Teri-Lyn excused herself and came heading her way.

Isabelle did a slight head turn, pretending she was looking for something, trying to

get away, but she bumped into Morgan.

“Whoa!” she said as she knocked into her. “I didn’t hurt the baby did I?”
“No, of course not.” Morgan smiled.
Isabelle rubbed Morgan’s belly furiously in apology. Teri-Lyn was getting closer.
“Please, I get more intense body shots from Seth when we’re making love.”
“Really?” Isabelle raised an eyebrow.
“After he plays a game, we go into OT at home.” Morgan winked at her.
“I want all the details later,” Isabelle whispered and tried to walk away.
Morgan grabbed her. “Don’t run, you’ll only make it worse.”
Isabelle and Morgan were standing together like two grinning idiots when Teri-Lyn

approached.

“How are you feeling, Teri-Lyn?” Morgan kissed her on the cheek.
“I’m OK. Just worried about my boy.” Teri-Lyn looked back at Tate.
“Have you met my cousin?” Morgan gestured toward Isabelle.
“No, but I’ve heard a lot about her.” Teri-Lyn smiled.
Isabelle tried to swallow the huge lump in her throat. What had Teri-Lyn heard?

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m happy to meet you too,” Teri-Lyn said. “I just wish it were under better

circumstances. I hope you can stay on after the funeral. We can spend some time
together.”

“I’d like that.” The look in Teri-Lyn’s eyes gave Isabelle a warm feeling inside—not

the terror she’d expected.

Teri-Lyn turned to Morgan. “Where is my grandson?”
“Seth took him outside for a walk.” Morgan pointed to the door.
Teri-Lyn patted her stomach. “And how are you doing?
“Fine. Just a little tired.”
Isabelle looked up and saw a woman hugging Tate a little too tightly. “Who is that?”
“That’s Chrissie Winterbourne,” Teri-Lyn said.
“Chrissie sure likes to hug.”

Morgan and Teri-Lyn looked at her.
Teri-Lyn continued. “That burly man behind her who doesn’t appreciate the long

hug either is her husband, Caine.”

“Oh look, Penny’s here too. Jake will be happy to see her. Seth, not so much.”

Morgan smirked.

“The Penny?” Isabelle glared at her.
“We’ve resolved our differences. She gave Jake the cutest ‘my first doctor kit’ for his

birthday.”

“How about we get some fresh air?” Teri-Lyn smiled at Isabelle.
“Sure.”
Teri-Lyn turned to leave, but then she stopped. The prayer card in her hand slipped

out of her grasp and hit the floor. Isabelle reached down to retrieve it, but when she
stood up Teri-Lyn’s smile had turned into a frown.

“Is there something wrong?”
“I can’t believe he had the nerve to show his face.”
Isabelle turned around and saw the older man who had been staring at her earlier

headed toward Tate. The patrons sitting in the pews were whispering to one another,
their eyes all on the scene before them. The Blake men all had the same statue-like
posture, as if they were getting ready for a brawl. This mysterious man was not a
welcomed guest. A pit formed in the bottom of Isabelle’s stomach. Only one person
could evoke such dread.

Teri-Lyn clenched her teeth. “That’s Joe McGill, Tate’s biological father.”

Tate’s grip on Lila’s casket tightened as Joe McGill sauntered into the church and

walked toward the casket with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A hush fell over the
church. Tate came up the aisle and stood in Joe’s way.

“She was a hell of a lady,” Joe McGill said to his son.
“We’re in a church, Joe, can you refrain from using that word?”
Joe looked around. “You’re absolutely right. Where are my manners?”
He’d never had any. Tate took a good look at him. He’d lost a lot of weight, or maybe

gotten shorter, because he certainly didn’t seem as big and imposing as before. Purple
shadows stood under Joe’s eyes—he was still drinking. Tate could smell the liquor on his
breath. Joe tried to smile, revealing a few more teeth missing than Tate had remembered.

“Look how you’ve grown, all clean and fancy,” Joe said as he placed the flowers on

one of the pews. “I remember when you were a scrawny little runt.”

Tate moved closer to his father and looked down at him. Tate had four inches on him

now. “Not so scrawny anymore.”

“I see that and a big-time country music star. You got your mother’s pipes, that’s for

sure. Lila was headed to the top when I met her.” He whistled.

“Then you shot her down.”
“It wasn’t always bad.” Joe played with the rim of his hat.
Tate took a step back and shook his head in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean, what am I doing here? She was my wife.”
Joe went to move around Tate, but Tate wouldn’t budge. Joe lifted his hand up.
Tate grabbed it and pushed him back. “She was more of a punching bag to you than

a wife. Both of us were.”

“Step aside, boy.” Joe tried to move past him again.
Tate grabbed Joe by the lapels of his suit jacket and held him in place.
Joe tried to get out of his grasp, but he couldn’t. “You just can’t let that go, can you?

I’ve apologized and even repented for my sins and you still won’t forgive me.”

“Forgiveness isn’t guaranteed just because you think you deserve it.” Tate glared at

him.

“You think you’re so high and mighty just because you spent time with the Blakes.

Let me tell you something, boy, you’re a McGill down to the bone whether you believe it
or not. I’m just trying to warn you. It’s something in us that can’t be controlled. I’ve seen
you holding hands with that pretty girl all day. You love her, it’s written all over your
face. Do yourself a favor and let that poor girl go. You’re only going to hurt her. You
won’t have any control over it. If you really love her, then let her go.”

“You go near her and I swear I’ll break your neck.” Tate clenched his jaw.
“Joe.” John Jacob walked forward and gently removed Tate’s hands from Joe’s

jacket.

Joe straightened his clothes and gave a stiff nod. “John Jacob. I came to pay my

respects to Lila. And to give the boy here some advice.”

John Jacob shook his head. “There is nothing you could possibly tell him. Nothing

good, anyway.”

“He’s done well for himself, but don’t go trying to convince the boy life is all roses

and happiness. I tried with Lila and ended up hurting them both.”

“And then I hurt you. It may be fifteen years later, but I’ll still kick your ass like that

night I did when I came to your house. You leave Tate alone. He’s a good man. You
should be happy he broke the cycle of your crazy-ass kin.” John Jacob moved closer.

Tate searched through the crowded church for Isabelle. Seeing her with Teri-Lyn

calmed his hammering heart. He didn’t want her anywhere near Joe.

Joe leaned back from where John Jacob was invading his space. “I just wanted to pay

my respects to the woman I love and I’ve done that. Lila had an insurance policy. I intend
to collect on it.”

“Of course you are,” Tate drawled. “Get one more thing from her.”
Joe put his hat back on and headed for the door. “Remember what I said. It’s a curse

we have. Give Teri-Lyn my regards.”

Seth was coming back through the door with Jake and stopped dead in his tracks.

John Jacob made a motion to Seth to let it go and keep moving.

“I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up.” Seth’s jaw ticked.
“Boys, let it go,” John Jacob said. “Joe wanted to pay his respects and he did. I’ll

have someone make sure he’s gone from the church.”

“You all right?” Seth put his hand on Tate’s shoulder.
“Not by a long shot.”

Chapter Nine

Isabelle rode back to the ranch with Tate. She didn’t want to ask about what had

transpired between him and his father, but it was obvious from the tight expressions on
everyone’s faces that it had been an intense conversation. Teri-Lyn had squeezed
Isabelle’s hand throughout the entire ordeal. It had looked like a giant powder keg
waiting to explode, but Joe had finally left the church. Still, it was too quiet in the car.

“Your watch has seen better days.” Isabelle leaned over and spied the gold watch he

wore. The crystal was scratched, and it was in need of repair.

“Would you believe this is a family heirloom? This belonged to Lila’s father.”
Tate pulled into Teri-Lyn and John Jacob’s driveway but stopped Isabelle before she

could open her door.

“Hold on, speedy.” He smiled.
“Yes?”
“It is customary for a man to open the door for a woman. I know it sounds

antiquated, but I still believe it should be done.” He gave her an expectant look.

Isabelle laughed. “You’re absolutely right. I thought my dad and Uncle Curtis were

the last men on the planet who believed in chivalry, but since I’ve been down here
everyone on the ranch has been mindful and polite, just like Seth. I guess I’m just used
to fending for myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Doing those things is my way of showing you I

care and that I’m looking after you.” Tate took her hand and went into the house.

As soon as Tate walked into the house, people flocked to him to offer their

condolences. Isabelle went in search of Morgan to see if she could help out with
anything. There was a catering staff, but she knew Morgan wouldn’t be able to resist
doing something. She’d been a compulsive helper ever since they were kids.

“Need any assistance?” Isabelle put her arm around Morgan.
“No, you’re the one with the broken arm. Take it easy.” Morgan hustled her out of

the kitchen.

Isabelle stepped onto the terrace and called Dana, but she got her voice mail again.

When she and Morgan had packed up and left, she’d spoken with her cousin quickly

about missing the wedding. Dana had said she understood, but Isabelle had seen the
disappointed look in her eyes. Morgan had upgraded her honeymoon package, which
she’d booked via Morgan’s friend Theresa as a present from both of them, but they knew
it would only appease her cousin so much. She didn’t know how she was going to make it
up to her, but she was going to try her best.

Isabelle came back into the house through a different glass door and was confused

about where she was. It seemed she was in another part of the house. She turned the
corner and almost slammed into a very handsome, tall man in a gray suit. He had those
same piercing green eyes as Jake.

She had to crane her head back to apologize. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, I apologize, Isabelle. Did I hurt your arm?” He grinned.
“No, you didn’t. Well, you know me but I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”
“I’m John Jacob Jr., but everyone calls me J.J.” He extended his hand.
“Ah. You’re the oldest, right?” Isabelle looked up at him.
“Yes, I am. Welcome to the family.”
“Morgan talks about all of you so much. I feel like I know you.”
“She’s mentioned you as well. She has a picture of the two of you in the living room

at the house.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell me it’s that camping picture.”
“I think so. There’s a canoe in the background. The two of you were all pigtails and

braces.” He laughed.

“That’s the one.” She shook her head.
“Both of you blossomed into beautiful women.”
“Thank you.” She giggled. “Does charm run in the family?”
“I’m afraid it’s a family curse. Wait until you meet Tyler and Channing. They’re

shameless about it.”

“Where are they? I haven’t met them yet.” Isabelle looked around the room.
“My guess is Tate has threatened them both with death if they come in your

direction.” J.J. chuckled.

“Tate told you about me?” She widened her eyes.
“He did.” He looked her in the eye.
The way J.J. was staring at her, she knew he was trying to tell her something

complicated in the simplest manner possible.

“So how long do you have to go before the cast comes off?”
“It’s going to be on for about three more weeks, then I start physical therapy.” She

sighed.

“Well, take it from someone who came back from a very bad knee injury. Don’t rush

the recovery no matter how much you want to get back to work. The mind and body both

need time to heal.”

Isabelle saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes.
“I’m afraid my future is in limbo until I know for sure I can hold my violin. The

waiting is driving me crazy.” She bit her lip.

“I’ve been there. I drove my family nuts. Sitting still is not in my nature. My momma

says I was a surly bear for about a year.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what helped you through it? Ending your career could

not have been easy.”

“I spent my whole life dreaming about being a quarterback in the NFL, and for five

years I lived my dream. Then all of a sudden, it all went away. Life changed.
Relationships changed. After the physical pain and diagnosis, I had the best orthopedic
surgeon in the country operate on my knee. Then came the rehab months later. It was the
love of family and friends that kept me from going over the edge. Seth is a hell of a
motivational speaker. He worked his schedule so he could come home and help me with
my therapy. He even consulted doctors and scoured for any new techniques that would
help me come back one hundred percent.”

“How did you move on with your life?”
“A lot of love from a great family.” He winked.

* * *

Morgan and Seth agreed to stay on at the ranch for a while longer, so Tate was elated

when Isabelle wanted to stay too.

“I’m not staying because of Morgan and Seth. I’m staying because I want to be with

you,” she told him that night when they readied for bed.

Tate felt good waking up every day with her curly hair resting on his face. Isabelle

slept like a prize fighter after going ten rounds, but when they woke she was always
curled up against him, or even better, on top of him. He couldn’t get enough of her smell,
her soft skin, and the way she giggled until she got the hiccups. She didn’t wear pajamas,
preferring to sleep in one of his T-shirts. He didn’t mind. Seeing her parade around in
one of his shirts with that crazy bun on top of her head was the sexiest thing he’d ever
seen in his life. It gave him the perfect view of that firm, round ass he loved. He would
get hard just watching her walk into a room. There were moments when he wanted to
blurt out that he loved her, but something in him held back from making that
declaration. He loved her. She’d never seen him after a bad bout with Joe. He was free of

the stigma of being poor, unloved Tate. He had loved Chrissie when they were in high
school, but there was something about the sadness in her eyes when she’d looked at him
that had made him disgusted with himself. But he couldn’t tell Isabelle he loved her
until she saw his roots.

He’d staved off work calls but knew he’d have to talk to Cyril at some point. This

extended time out was the longest he’d ever been away from his music. He’d started
working on some new material in the evenings after dinner. He preferred to eat alone
with her at the cabin but conceded when family wanted to join them. Isabelle and
Morgan seemed to be having the best time together and Jake was in heaven. She was a
natural with kids. Isabelle kept up her music lessons with her class via video chat, and
she’d even had all of her ex-husband’s numbers blocked from her phone. Tate felt like
his hands were tied when she reaffirmed she didn’t want anyone getting into trouble by
confronting Ned about the incident.

* * *

The phone ringing woke Isabelle and Tate from their nap on the couch. They had

sincerely intended to get a head start on the day after breakfast. But a quick kiss from
Tate on the way out the door had ignited a firestorm of lust and they’d ended up making
love on the couch instead. Tate reached out and retrieved her phone from the coffee
table. Isabelle rose up so quickly trying to get to the phone, she and Tate almost toppled
onto the floor, but Tate caught her. She smiled and moved her thumb to accept the call.

“Hey, Morgan. I’ll be ready in a half hour.”
Tate looked over in the corner. Rowdy was resting in his doggie bed. “How did

Rowdy get in here?”

“He came scratching at the door about an hour ago. There was a note from Bo

attached to his collar.” Isabelle picked up the piece of paper from the coffee table.

“I’m sure Bo has some choice words for me about being late.” Tate yawned.
“Bo said, ‘Stop smooching on your woman and get to work.’ He actually drew a heart

at the bottom of it.” She giggled.

“Do we have to get up?” Tate tightened his grip around her waist.
“Yes, Morgan and I are going shopping today.” Isabelle got up and awkwardly tried

to pull on his T-shirt.

“Still, this couch makes for a much better afternoon,” Tate said as he stepped into

his jeans.

“Oh, quit it. Bo said you were getting a one-time reprieve and could come down to

the stables in the afternoon. So you can work on your songs while I’m out with Morgan.
A little help?” Isabelle motioned to her jean skirt that was on the floor.

“At your service.”
Isabelle stood still as Tate ran his hands along her hips before finally pulling up her

skirt and buttoning the snap.

“You’d rather go shopping than stay here with me.” He shook his head.
“You can get some work done.” Isabelle kissed him.
“I must be losing my touch.” He folded his arms over his chest.
She swatted his arm. “Impossible. The McGill charm never wavers. I thought you

told me you could charm the stinger off a bumble bee the other day.”

“That’s not what I said. And I only use my powers for good.”
“Ha! You mean to get women.”
“I would say getting women is a good thing, but I know I will end up sleeping alone

tonight.”

“Sexy and smart. Who says you’re just some hunky eye candy with a guitar?”
“Well, you don’t. Thank you for that.” He smiled.
“You’re very welcome. We’re having dinner with Seth and Morgan tonight. Think

you can rustle up a couple of bottles of wine?”

“Sure.” Tate folded the quilt that had covered them.
Isabelle went to the bathroom and brushed through her curly hair. Her cell phone

rang. It was her dad.

“Hi, Dad.” Isabelle smiled as Colonel Reed appeared on the screen.
“How’s my little girl enjoying her time in Texas?”
“How did you know I was in Texas?”
“Ordinarily I’d like to scare the hell out of you with the prospect that I’m watching

your every move via satellite, but I talked to Curtis and he told me you and Morgan went
down there for a funeral.”

“Yes, that’s right. This ranch is incredible. Morgan and Seth have an amazing

home,” Isabelle rambled as she sank down on the bed.

“How long will you be down there?”
“A few weeks, maybe.” How long would she stay? She and Tate never talked about

it.

“Curtis said you stayed at Morgan’s house with her brother-in-law Tate?”
“Yes, I helped Tate with babysitting duties.” Isabelle ran a hand through her hair.
“How’s the arm?”
“A work in progress.”
“Rock climbing accident, eh?”

Isabelle closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes. Your daughter did a stupid thing.”
“My daughter doesn’t do anything stupid. Except for that time you thought you were

Wonder Woman and tried to jump out of your bedroom window when you were eight.”
He laughed.

“Wow. I thought we agreed to never talk about that.”
“Sounds like spending time down there is just what you needed. I haven’t heard you

in such a good mood in ages.”

“I think it’s the Texas heat. You know I’ve always enjoyed hot weather.”
“Well, have a good time. Tell Morgan and Seth I said hello. Love you, baby.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Isabelle’s mind went into a tailspin as soon as she disconnected the call. What

exactly did Uncle Curtis tell her dad? He hadn’t asked any probing questions, which
meant she was supposed to have volunteered the information. It was his modus operandi
since she was a child. Since she’d been silent, the countdown was on for her full
disclosure about what she was really doing in Texas. Too bad she didn’t know herself.

* * *

Isabelle took a deep breath, letting the fresh country air fill her lungs as she

descended Tate’s porch steps and got into the truck where Morgan sat waiting.

“Where’s Jake?” Isabelle looked in the backseat.
“Hanging out with his grandparents. They jumped at the chance to babysit since

we’re having our double date tonight.” Morgan laughed.

She drove around the ranch like a pro, occasionally stopping to introduce Isabelle to

one of the workers. Everyone on the ranch was friendly with the exception of Eden, who
said a curt hello when they passed her and J.J.’s house. Eden was packing some things
into her Mercedes.

“What is her deal?” Isabelle asked.
“I think she’s allergic to happiness.” Morgan frowned.
Morgan kept up the tour of the ranch as they made their way to the main gate, but

Isabelle’s mind was on Tate. What were they doing? The longer she stayed on the ranch
the more she felt at home. There was something about the ranch that made her feel…
loved.

Today she was on a mission to restore a piece of Tate’s past. Isabelle thought it

would be nice to get that gold watch of his grandfather’s repaired. She had inquired with

Teri-Lyn about a reputable jeweler that would repair Tate’s family heirloom with loving
care. Also, after scouring Lila’s boxes with him night after night, they’d discovered some
good memories he could keep with him always. A visit to the craft shop was needed to
start the project.

“I hope they can fix it.” Isabelle took Tate’s gold watch out of her bag.
“Teri-Lyn says the owner of the jewelry store is a family friend and has an

outstanding reputation,” Morgan said.

“Good.” She looked over at Morgan. “You know you haven’t given me the frank

talking to I thought I’d get after we came to Texas.”

“Was I supposed to?” Morgan glanced at her.
“Well, yes. You’re my voice of reason.” Isabelle gave her an expectant look.
Morgan reached over and squeezed her hand. “I think you should do whatever

makes you happy.”

“That’s all I get?” Isabelle pouted.
“I want you to be happy. You weren’t with Ned.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Tate’s a good man, I totally understand the attraction. He has a good heart beneath

all that charm and flirtatiousness.”

“He’s nothing like I thought he’d be. I mean the songs he writes, not to mention the

internet search hits on his dalliances. I’d have to be brain damaged to want to be
anywhere near that man.” Isabelle bit the inside of her cheek.

“He’s a man with many layers.” Morgan pulled into a parking spot.
Isabelle fingered the watch in her hands. “He told me about the abuse.”
Morgan shook her head. “That breaks my heart every time I think about it. Tate

deserved better than that life. I’m glad he found love with the Blakes. Maybe he can find
love with you.” Morgan looked at her.

“That’s a loaded word.” She sighed.
“Then why are you spending time with him?”
She shrugged. “Sex that could melt the polar ice caps.”
Morgan whipped her head around. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. When we”—Isabelle waggled her eyebrows—“I feel like I’m having a near-

death experience, but in a very good way.”

Morgan let out a low whistle. “We have got to have some good old-fashioned dirty

talk one of these days.”

“I agree. Right now I just want to enjoy being with Tate. We’ll figure it out.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Morgan opened the car door.
“One more thing. I’d like to tell you something, and I don’t want you to get upset.”
Morgan closed the door again. “OK.”

“I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you, and I have Tate to thank for giving me the

courage to do it… I had a fight with Ned. He lunged at me and I fell, trying to get out of
the way.” Isabelle sniffed, blinking away the sudden burn of tears. “That’s how I broke
my arm.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Morgan gripped the steering wheel with both

hands.

“Because I was ashamed of what happened.”
“Was this the first time?”
Isabelle nodded. “Yes.”
Morgan clasped her hands over her face. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”
“No! Morgan, don’t get upset. It’s not good for your baby.”
“Izzy, he hurt you.”
“It was a bizarre accident, but I won’t give him the opportunity to hurt me again. So

please, I just want to put it behind me.”

“If you say so,” Morgan grumbled and gave her a big hug.
They did some shopping before they went to the jeweler. Isabelle was excited and

nervous about the surprise she had for Tate. The owner, Max, assured her that he would
personally take care of her request. Afterward they checked out a few more stores, and
Isabelle fell in love with yet another pair of cowboy boots. Their last stop was the craft
store. Isabelle had a list of things she needed for the scrapbook she was going to make
for Tate. Three hours later, she and Morgan headed back to the ranch to get ready for
dinner with Tate and Seth.

* * *

Tate and Seth set the table while Isabelle and Morgan sat in the living room looking

at the photo album of Jake’s birthday party. Tate and Seth had put their culinary skills
together and had made braised beef ribs with glazed carrots and green beans. They
picked up a red velvet cake from the local bakery for dessert. They’d spent most of the
afternoon cooking and were glad it was finally time for dinner.

Seth looked for the corkscrew for the wine. “I can’t remember the last time we had a

double date.”

“It was with the Martin twins, Heather and Hannah.” Tate cracked a smile.
“That’s right. That was a wild night.” Seth chuckled.
“How wild was it?” Isabelle said as she and Morgan came into the kitchen.

“Uhh…I think we took them to the museum and for a bite to eat.” Seth wouldn’t

look up, concentrating on opening the bottle of wine.

Morgan turned to Tate. “Spill it, McGill.”
“It happened exactly as Seth said. I think he left out how we all went to choir

rehearsal later that evening.” Tate flashed a cheesy smile.

“Tate McGill doesn’t want to tell one of the infamous stories of his youth?” Morgan

looked at Isabelle. “Normally, he’ll squeal if you give him a longneck and a basket of
cheese fries.”

“Baby, I think Tate is trying to impress Isabelle. Why don’t we let him have a

peaceful evening?” Seth kissed Morgan.

“Tate, are you trying to impress me?” Isabelle raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a kiss as she took her seat.
Tate did curb his tongue during the meal, but he also entertained Isabelle and

Morgan with stories of his and Seth’s youth. It felt good to share happy memories after
thinking about the darker days with his parents for the last few weeks. He’d done so well
burying the past.

Dinner tasted delicious and everyone was having a good time. Morgan couldn’t

drink, so Seth kept the Shirley Temples coming. Tate glanced up a few times and saw
Morgan and Seth looking at him and Isabelle. Somehow he’d moved closer to her and
had his arm around the back of her chair. He didn’t know how long he’d been doing it or
why he felt so strange that he wasn’t cognizant of it. But the weird feelings dissipated
when she kissed him before she cleared his plate. The evening was going along perfectly
until Seth got a call from Cal at the Bright Star.

“Hey, Cal. What’s going on?” Seth sighed as he listened to the voice on the other

end. “OK. I’ll be there.”

Tate knew that look. That was the look Seth always got when they had to go kick

somebody’s ass. He picked up the empty wine bottles off the table.

“What’s going on?” Tate said.
“Joe’s at the Bright Star making a scene and demanding to see you.”
“By all means, let’s give him what he wants.” Tate threw the bottles with such force

into the recycling bin they shattered.

Isabelle and Morgan stilled.
“I don’t want you to go,” Isabelle said.
Tate closed his eyes for a moment. “Izzy, if I don’t go he’ll aggravate the hell out of

everyone at the Bright Star. That’s my home away from home. He knows that, and it’s
why he went there. He wouldn’t set foot on this ranch because he knows John Jacob
would skin his hide.”

“I won’t let anything happen to him, Izzy.” Seth said.

Morgan rolled her eyes. “The last time you two went there you got arrested.”
“What?” Isabelle swallowed.
Seth cleared his throat. “That was a little boys-will-be-boys shenanigans.”
“I promise it won’t come to that.” Tate took her face in his hands.
“OK.” Isabelle put her hands over his.
Tate kissed her, then grabbed his hat and headed out the door with Seth. If Joe

McGill wanted a fight tonight, he was ready for one.

* * *

When Tate and Seth pulled up to the Bright Star, the parking lot was swarming with

activity. Most of the patrons were outside and the police and paramedics were there.

“Looks like the party already started,” Seth drawled.
“Hey, Danny, what happened?” Tate asked the bartender.
“The brawl of the century. No offense to you guys, that shit with you and the

Winterbournes was epic.” Danny whistled.

“So who was fighting?” Tate glanced at Danny.
“Cal and Joe.”
Tate raced into the bar in search of Cal. He was sitting on the edge of the stage while

a paramedic tried to put a bandage on his cheek.

“What the hell happened, Cal?” Tate looked him over.
“Joe and I had a difference of opinion. I thought he should get the hell out. He

thought he should stay.”

“I’m so sorry about all of this.” Tate surveyed the room. Broken chairs and shattered

glass lay scattered across the floor.

“Sorry for what? This ain’t your fault. This is all Joe. He came in here acting like a

jackass, trying to trash-talk you. I drew the line at him grabbing your guitar off the wall.”
Cal pushed the paramedic away.

“Where is he?” Tate clenched his jaw.
“The ambulance took him to the hospital.”
Tate turned to go, but Cal stopped him. “I saw him hassling you at the funeral, and

now he kicked up trouble here. I think this is his way of getting back into your life. Lila is
gone. He has no one whose buttons he can push anymore. He needs someone else to
make feel like hell.”

“I’m not scared of him anymore. I’m bigger than him. I’m stronger.”

“And you’re a better man. Don’t think you have to stand up to him. You have

nothing to prove. You’ll just feed Joe’s need to control. I know you’re a grown man, but
no child should have to fight his parent. It changes a man when he crosses certain sacred
boundaries. You fought back when you were little for survival. You survived and now you
know better.”

“Thanks, Cal.” Tate walked out of the Bright Star trying to make sense of it all.

Maybe Cal was right. Joe was looking for someone to fill that volatile void Lila had left in
his life. As long as he was still angry with Joe, he was still that little kid trapped in that
house of dysfunction. It was his turn to purge Joe out of his life and have the courage to
close the door for good.

* * *

Tate sped through the arm’s length of chores Bo had given him today. He wanted to

take Isabelle for a ride before sunset. The jokes about him being love struck were still
running rampant on the ranch, but he was taking it in stride. He’d thanked J.J. for the
chat he’d had with Isabelle about her arm. Her optimism seemed to be returning after
J.J. had shared his story about his career-ending injury with her. Seth had even
volunteered to help her with her physical therapy when the time came.

She’d been a great help to Tate. They had sorted through one of Lila’s boxes every

night. He was amazed at the things she’d saved. She’d apparently attended his concerts
every time he’d played in Texas and had saved the ticket stubs. He’d taken her Bible and
put it on his bookshelf. It comforted him knowing some of her things were scattered
about his home.

He walked into Teri-Lyn’s house to find the women in the kitchen chatting. The

moment his eyes connected with Isabelle’s, his heart skipped a beat.

“Hello, ladies.”
“Hey, baby. Did Bo work you to death?” Teri-Lyn kissed him on the cheek.
“Almost.” He laughed. “Morgan, how are you feeling?”
“Hungry. But what’s new these days?” She waved a hand at him.
“Do you ladies mind if I borrow Izzy?”
“Not at all.” Teri-Lyn smiled.
Tate shuffled closer to Isabelle. “Want to take a ride with me?”
“Of course.” Isabelle smiled at him.
Tate helped her into the truck and started driving. A knot was forming in the back of

his neck. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure he could
go through with it. She’d looked so pretty today in her hip-hugging jeans and pink shirt.
She was wearing one of Morgan’s hats and a pair of cowboy boots she’d bought when she
and Morgan had gone shopping last week.

Once he was off the ranch and was a few miles away, he realized he needed gas to

finish the trip. They stopped at a gas station, and he filled up while she went inside to get
something to drink.

Tate looked at the door, watching for Isabelle, when a mother came out with her son.

He had his hands full with a toy and a bag of chips while his mother was trying to get
him to eat some grapes. The youngster resisted at first, but after a few minutes of his
mom fussing, he relented and let her feed him the grapes. A flash of Tate and Lila sitting
on the porch, eating grapes, came to him. It had been a hot, sunny afternoon, and he’d
just returned home from school. That was his favorite part of the day. Joe worked long
hours and didn’t get home until seven. He could see his mother’s face plain as day. She
always had a distant look on her face, as if she were a million miles away enjoying the life
she really wanted. If she were in a good mood, she’d sing one of her old songs. He loved
to hear her sing.

Isabelle’s laugh brought him out of his daydream. He turned to see her standing at

the counter with her bag, but the young attendant didn’t seem to want to let her go. She
smiled and told him to have a good day then scooted out of the store.

“Was he flirting with you?” Tate asked.
“I don’t think so. Everyone down here is so friendly.” She shrugged.
“Sure he wasn’t.” Tate closed his tank. He looked at her for a moment. He hadn’t

even told her their destination. “Aren’t you curious about where we’re going?”

“I thought we were running away together.” She stood up on her toes and kissed

him.

Tate pulled her close and gave a long, slow kiss back. He helped her into the truck

and got back on the road. The sun would be setting soon, and he didn’t want to be away
from the ranch too long. Finally, when he turned down a familiar dirt road, his gut
tightened. Isabelle looked around as Tate stopped in the front yard of a dilapidated
house. The patchy grass was brown. The screen door hung off the hinges. The railing was
missing as well as some of the planks on the porch. Duct tape covered some of the
broken windows. He took hold of her hand as they walked up the rotted porch steps.

“How long did you live here?” Isabelle squeezed his hand.
“Too long. See that little shed all the way down there?”
Isabelle squinted. “I see it.”
“Whenever Joe came home in a bad mood and would start up, I’d grab my things

and run as fast as I could to that shed. He never could catch me.” Tate gazed out at the

field.

“Running fast came in handy for your high school football days.”
“I was good. Sharp. I know why Seth loves football. It makes you think on your feet,

literally.”

“And you’ve been running ever since.” She pushed up his hat to see his eyes.
The ghosts were still there. Tate had to force himself not to feel like that seven-year-

old boy running for his life, not knowing if today would be the day Joe would do
something to hurt him or Lila. He was saved by the Blakes, but for years he felt guilty for
not being there for Lila. For not remaining and taking the abuse with her, he felt as
though he failed her somehow. She was the only other person on the planet who knew
what Joe’s wrath was like, and he left her.

Tate looked into Isabelle’s eyes, comforted by what he saw. He didn’t see pity. He

saw caring and concern being reflected back to him. She didn’t think he was too
damaged to love.

Tate took a deep breath. “What if I didn’t want to run anymore?”
“Walking is good too. Sitting still is even better.”
“If I stopped running, would you walk with me for a while?”
Isabelle rubbed her hand along his face. “I’d walk with you forever.”
Tate kissed her hand. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Chapter Ten

As soon as they entered the cabin, something in Tate opened up. All the way back to

the ranch, he’d been thinking she was too beautiful for words. She was pretty and
loveable and had the greatest laugh he’d ever heard come from a woman. She was
everything he’d been looking for his whole life. Tate grabbed Izzy, pulled her in for a
kiss, and walked backward until he reached the kitchen. He wanted her now. He needed
to feel her soft skin pressed against his as if his life depended on it. Tate tore off his shirt
and lifted her up on the kitchen table. Isabelle planted a trail of kisses down his stomach
while unbuttoning his pants.

Tate pulled her back and kissed her. He pulled on the ribbon tied into a bow at the

top of her shirt. He stopped for a moment to admire how provocative she looked, then
proceeded to pull it over her head. Take kicked off his boots and stepped out of his jeans,
then grabbed a condom out of his wallet. He put it on and pulled her forward so her ass
met the edge of the table.

He thrust inside her, and she held on to his biceps, content to ride this manic wave

with him. He pushed her further onto the kitchen table and followed, laying on top of her
and thankful that he’d bought a sturdy, solid table. They were skin to skin, his lips
touching hers. Her breath pressed against his chest. He was in pretty deep, but he lifted
her leg and plunged even deeper until she let out a gasp. Isabelle’s eyes were closed, her
hair spread about the kitchen table, and he needed to be as deeply inside of her as
possible. Tate continued sliding in and out until he was at the point where his heart
would either give out from physical exhaustion or from loving her too much. When he
finally reached his climax, he pulled her hair gently to make her open her eyes and see
how much he wanted her when he released inside her.

* * *

Tate lay awake for the fifth night in a row. He’d been jolted awake from the same

nightmare he’d had ever since he visited his old house. For two weeks his dreams about
Isabelle were getting progressively worse, and for two weeks he did his best to hide them
from her. In tonight’s dream Isabelle was lying on the floor, hurt and crying. When he
went to reach for her, she’d cower away from him. Joe’s bitter words at the funeral kept
playing in his head like a broken record. Was there a McGill curse of dysfunction? Was
he destined to treat Isabelle badly? Perhaps there was something in him genetically
predisposed against loving someone and having a healthy relationship. Every time he’d
felt himself getting close and giving her his heart, he’d back away. The word love had
lingered on his lips for weeks, but he was afraid to say it. Joe had loved Lila—once. Joe
may have even loved Tate once.

He was raised by John Jacob, but what if he had Joe tucked away inside him too?

He’d never felt this deeply for someone. How could he be sure that some latent gene
wouldn’t be activated when he least knew it? According to Lila, Joe had been a good man
once, but something changed in him. The idea that Tate could treat any woman badly,
especially Isabelle, made him sick to his stomach.

He loved her. He’d never committed to a woman in his life, and he avoided

relationships like the plague, but he loved this woman with all his heart. She was the best
thing in his life, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d turn on her in some way. He’d never
forgive himself if he failed her too.

His manager, Cyril, had talked about doing a few more tour dates, but he kept

turning him down to try to make time to work on his new album. That single was still
going strong, and Cyril thought he could still capitalize on that. Working would keep
him away from Isabelle and give him some time to think about how to let her down
gently. He’d tell her about the tour, and then would be so seemingly busy that she’d
grow frustrated waiting for him to have time for her.

Determined not to wake Isabelle out of a sound sleep, he went downstairs and got a

beer out of the fridge. He puttered around the living room, mulling over the plan he just
concocted. It was best for both of them. Tate picked up his cell phone and dialed Cyril,
who answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Cyril, it’s Tate. I think those extra tour dates would be a good idea. I have to

get away for a while. What do you have in mind?”

Isabelle stood at the top of the stairs, listening to Tate’s conversation with his

manager. She’d noticed his absence almost immediately when he’d left the bed, and after
a half hour, she thought she’d go see what he was doing. She thought he’d made some
sort of breakthrough when he visited his old house. She knew about the nightmares but

suspected he didn’t want to talk about it. The night they stayed up talking she saw the
dam he’d built up around his life, the parts he didn’t want anyone to see, was
dangerously close to breaking. She just hoped he wouldn’t be drowned by his past.

She’d peeked in the notebook he used to write his songs. Most of the songs were

unfinished. Instead of playful lyrics around good times and hot women, meaningful
verses of love, loss, and the struggle to be human plagued him. What would become of a
playboy country-western singer who could no longer come up with flirty lyrics that drove
millions of women into a tizzy? Tate was on the verge of so many things and had so little
time. The deadline for his album was labeled on the first page of the notebook. Perhaps
it was time to leave before he pushed her away.

* * *

Tate got up early before Isabelle and went down to the stables. Three hours later he

went back to the cabin, prepared to tell his lie. He gingerly walked through the cabin,
looking for her, but she wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. He stopped. The house
felt eerily silent. Empty. His stomach flip-flopped. He bounded up the steps to his
bedroom.

The skylight was closed, and her things were gone. Two gift-wrapped boxes and a

note sat on the bed.

He tore into the packages. One contained a scrapbook of some of the items they’d

found in Lila’s boxes, and the other held his gold watch, now in pristine condition. The
watch shined like new, and the crystal had been replaced. He leafed through the book
and saw the care and love she’d put into arranging the photos and ticket stubs they’d
found. The book held highlights of the good times with his mother. It lightened his heart
to see them all together between the pages, not scattered about far and wide like they
were in his mind.

Tate opened the note.

The past doesn’t always have to be broken.
Isabelle

Tate sat down on the bed, clutching the note in his hand and feeling as if his heart

was going to explode. This is what he’d decided he wanted in the wee hours of the night,
for Isabelle to go away so he wouldn’t hurt her, right? Instead of elation, he felt like a

callous jackass.

* * *

Isabelle checked the notification from the airlines on her cell phone. Her flight to

Georgia would be on time. She needed to get back to her empty apartment and start
furnishing her life all over again. Instead of confronting Tate about the conversation she
overheard last night, she waited until he left the house to pack her things and took the
golf cart in his garage over to Morgan’s house. She felt like a dramatic hot mess as she
stood in her cousin’s beautiful kitchen trying not to cry while asking for a ride to the
airport. Tate’s sadness about his mother dying and returning to their house had to have
felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders. She wanted to kick herself for being
foolish enough to think she could help him through it.

Morgan questioned her at first, but when tears started falling from Isabelle’s eyes,

Morgan sprang into action and told Seth she was using the pickup to take her to the
airport. He asked her to take a moment before she up and left the state. Morgan silenced
him with a quick squeeze and said they’d talk about it later. Isabelle was pretty sure Seth
was been stalling, saying he misplaced the keys and left the room for a few minutes. She
was almost sure she’d seen Tate’s phone on the coffee table when she’d left his cabin.
Morgan found the keys herself, and they were ready to go to the airport. Seth had one
more stall tactic, asking her to wait so he could have his private plane take her home, but
she politely refused. Isabelle said good-bye to Jake as cheerfully as she could, hoping he
couldn’t understand how bad she felt.

“The flight is on time,” Isabelle murmured.
Morgan nodded, her eyes on the road. “Good. I’d hate to envision you sitting in an

airport lounge drowning your sorrows in ice cream for hours.”

“I could get hammered on liquor.” Isabelle ran a hand through her hair.
“Remember when we stole a couple of beers out the fridge? And how sick we got?”

Morgan laughed.

“I prayed for death to whisk me away many times that night. I think I went into the

light at least once.” Isabelle groaned.

“There’s nothing like a lecture from Curtis Reed. Then he called Uncle Lucas, who

read us the riot act.” Morgan rolled her eyes.

Isabelle bit her lip. “Morgan, do me a favor? Don’t give Tate a hard time when you

get back to the ranch.” She swiped at the tears spilling onto her cheeks.

“Why on earth would I do that?” Morgan cracked her knuckles.
“That’s how the Reeds do it. When we love, it’s deep, blinding, and irrational.”

Isabelle sighed.

“True.”
“It will serve no purpose, and it won’t change anything.” Isabelle put her hand on

Morgan’s arm.

“I promise.” Morgan nodded.

* * *

Tate rang the doorbell. Seth answered.
“Is Isabelle here?” Tate took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair.
“No, Morgan took her to the airport. What the hell happened?” Seth pulled him

inside.

“I think she may have overheard me schedule some tours dates. I was talking to

Cyril and said I had to get away for a while.” He shook his head.

“Tate, what the hell were you thinking?” Tyler said from the kitchen.
Tate followed Seth from the foyer to the kitchen to find both Tyler and Channing

sitting there.

He didn’t get a chance to answer because the sound of the front door slamming

startled all of them. Morgan entered the kitchen and threw the truck keys onto the table.

“Hey, baby. Was Isabelle able to get a flight?” Seth kissed her.
“Yes, thank goodness. She couldn’t get out of Dodge fast enough.” Morgan scowled

at Tate.

“Morgan,” Tate began, but he stopped when she held up her hand.
“Tyler and Channing, you want to take your nephew to lunch today?”
“What?” Tyler blinked.
“I thought it would be nice if he hung out with the two of you. And Seth, don’t you

have to go over some things with J.J.? I need to talk to Tate.”

Seth stammered. “I guess I do.”
Tate, along with everyone else, froze, not knowing what to do.
Morgan squared her jaw. “By the time I count to ten, the only person I want to see in

this kitchen is Tate.”

“Can we really take Jake?” Channing asked.
“One,” Morgan said.

“One!” Jake repeated after his mother and clapped.
“Two.”
Tyler got up with Jake and let him kiss Morgan good-bye.
“I hope you left me the Ferrari in your will.” Channing gave Tate an awkward hug as

if he’d never see him again.

Seth grabbed the truck keys and his hat.
“Seth.” Tate looked at his brother.
“Baby, he’s kind of big, so if he goes missing people will notice.” Seth kissed his wife

on the top of her head and went for the door.

The door closing sounded more like a metal cage locking for a death match.
“Morgan,” was all Tate could manage to say again.
“The only reason I haven’t karate kicked you into Oklahoma is because I’m pregnant

and Isabelle asked me not to hurt you. She actually asked me to give you a pass from the
beatdown of a lifetime because she said you’ve already been through enough. Funny,
coming from a woman who’s recently divorced a cheating bastard and can’t do the one
thing she loves to do, play her violin, with a broken arm and isn’t sure she’ll ever play
again. I vouched for you Tate. I told her you were a good guy who had a hard childhood
before you became a part of this family. I told her you were a kind, loving soul who just
needed the right person in his life and he’d stop wanting to run and drown himself with
women. I told her it didn’t matter if she wasn’t as worldly as you because deep down
inside you were a good man with a soft heart, just like my husband. I told her you two
were cut from the same cloth, that you were strong men who worked hard and loved even
harder. I told her it would be OK if she followed her heart and it led her to you. She is my
family, when you hurt her, you tore a hole through my heart too. And what pisses me off
even more is that you’re my family too and I hate to see you hurting. I don’t think it was
an easy plan you were concocting to brush her off because you couldn’t take the chance
some of your old family shit would flare up. Let me tell you something, Tate McGill, my
mother died when I was nine, and I just reconciled with that two months ago. So you
don’t get a pass on your past. You suck it up and you fight for a normal, happy life just
like we all do every day. You are better than the man who abused you. But keeping
yourself from Isabelle because you don’t think you deserve that kind of happiness is
total bullshit. And if you do believe that, then you were never right for her.” Morgan
walked out of the room.

Tate stood there for the longest time hoping Morgan would come back, but he

wasn’t sure he knew what he would say if she did. Maybe it was time to stop talking and
just let the feelings rush through. Morgan was right. He didn’t want the woman he loved
to turn into a shell of a person because he’d systematically broken her spirit due to some
destructive hereditary gene.

For so long he’d been content living in fractured pieces, writing songs to fill in the

voids in his heart. Then he met Isabelle. He hadn’t felt like writing one song since he’d
met her, perhaps because the loneliness that had driven him to write was dissipating.
She loved playing the violin, eating good mac and cheese, and making love in the rain.
She was beautiful, but she didn’t take herself too seriously. She liked helping others by
helping them understand what she felt when she played her violin. Love was as simple as
that, and he just pushed it away.

Chapter Eleven

Isabelle sat in the waiting room of her doctor’s office, wringing her hands while

waiting for her name to be called. Her cast had come off last week, and this was her first
consult with the doctor after he’d run some more tests. It felt good, finally having her
arm free. She even considered keeping the cast as a souvenir until she saw Tate’s
message on it. She tossed it instead. She didn’t want another reminder of him.

What a relief it had been to get back to her empty apartment. Back to normal. No

handsome country-western singers lurking around corners. Her first order of business
had been to delete every MP3 and throw out any CDs she had of Tate’s. She was getting
the hang of the whole cathartic thing and now regretted turning down her friend Frieda’s
offer to throw her a divorce party.

Dana still wasn’t returning her calls, so Isabelle had decided to give her some time

before she contacted her again. She did get a thank-you note for the gifts, but she wasn’t
sure if it was from Dana or someone who simply mailed out thank-you cards for her
cousin. But she took it as a sign that an olive branch had been extended. Their cousin
Shauna had called and said there’d been some drama over Charisma bringing Lamont
Brayer. He had come with her but wanted to leave about a half hour after they’d arrived.

“Ms. Reed,” the nurse called.
Isabelle followed her into the examining room and took a seat. The doctor came in

almost immediately.

“I’m sorry,” were the only words she could make out because she cried through the

rest of the consultation. The doctor stopped and got her a box a tissues. After fifteen
minutes she’d calmed down a bit. It wasn’t hopeless, but the physical therapy would be
extensive, and she wouldn’t be able to play again until they could strengthen the broken
bones. It wasn’t the nail in the coffin, but her life was about to change in a way she
hadn’t expected. The financial reality of this would have to be explored, and she had to
make some decisions.

“So, you’re saying physical therapy and then we can discuss my options?” She

sniffed.

“Yes,” the doctor said.

“OK.”

* * *

After drowning her sorrows in ice cream for two weeks, Isabelle forced herself to get

back into the world. She’d all but disappeared when things had started to go bad with
Ned, and she liked to believe she’d learned from her mistakes. After reconnecting with
the kids at Classic Music Rocks, she made a list of things she needed to do. It was one of
the hardest things she had to do, but she called her father and told him the truth about
her arm and the tough road she had ahead of her. After she convinced him not to kill
Ned, he immediately demanded she come to Nevada and live with him and her mother.
She declined but told him as soon as she mapped out a plan he and Mom would be the
first people she called.

Morgan’s daily calls were sweet, and she loved talking to Jake. She would always

treasure that time she’d spent with him and Tate. It made her realize that happiness like
that was worth fighting for with the right person. She assured Morgan she was OK and
that a visit to Georgia wasn’t necessary.

She realized what she had to do to end this chapter in her life and start anew. The

calls from Ned had continued, and he was elated that she’d returned to Georgia. He was
being charming and sending her flowers and gifts, but most importantly, he wasn’t
listening to her. It was time to take the reins and do what she should have done months
ago.

* * *

Isabelle glanced at her watch as she stood outside the office building sipping on a

cappuccino. It was almost one o’clock, so she knew he’d be out soon. And there he was,
just like clockwork. Ned may have been a lot of things, but he was always punctual. As a
matter of fact, when things didn’t go exactly as they were scheduled, he became
belligerent. She smiled, knowing the fact that she should have called and made an
appointment was going to stick in his craw. But a surprise approach would make it

impossible for Ned to turn a simple discussion into a covert move to get her back.

“Ned!” she yelled as he and a few colleagues headed around the corner.
“Isabelle?” He stopped in his tracks.
“I was in the neighborhood.”
Ned motioned for his colleagues to go ahead without him. One of his buddies even

gave him a thumbs up before they went on their way.

“So what brings you here? You know we could have made a date for lunch or even

dinner.” He motioned for her to sit on the edge of the waterfall fountain in front of the
building.

“What I have to say won’t take long, then we would have been left with an awkward

silence while we ate. We had enough of those moments when we were married. I have no
desire to relive them again.” She bit her lip.

“I still think we have plenty to say.” Ned loosened his tie.
“Like what?”
“I miss you something terrible. I was thinking we could go to marriage counseling.

Try to rebuild a new foundation.” Ned touched her hand but she pulled away.

“You still don’t understand why we got divorced?”
Ned rolled his eyes. “No, I do understand. I cheated and you’re punishing me.”
“Yes, you cheated, but let’s not blame the whole divorce on that. We’d been growing

apart for years. I don’t know when I let you take the lead in this relationship. Maybe it
just happened one day and I didn’t notice or didn’t speak up. You were domineering and
possessive, and I thought it was because you loved me so much and didn’t want to lose
me. But you cheating helped me realize the behavior wasn’t out of fear, it was you
wanting to get your own way and keep me as the naïve fool who would put up with it.”

“So, are you saying I turned you into some sort of doormat?” He glared at her.
“No, I accept responsibility for what I allowed to happen. But you haven’t accepted

responsibility for this.” She rubbed her arm. “You didn’t even bother to ask about my
arm, considering you are partly the reason it broke. I make my livelihood with this arm.
There is no fix for me if I can’t play my violin, but it never occurred to you because you
never took my career seriously either.”

He gritted his teeth. “That was an accident. I told you that the night I took you to the

hospital.”

“You know what, Ned? Apologies are what make us human. When we screw up, we

try to make amends with the person we’ve hurt. You can’t even bring yourself to admit
that you hurt me and that it could have a lasting effect on my life and possibly change
the course of it.”

“If you came back to me, I could take care of you. You wouldn’t have to work

anymore. I’d even forget that fling you had with that guy in Philadelphia.” He stood up.

“If I came back to you, which body part would get broken next?”
“Are you accusing me of domestic violence? Is that why you ambushed me here in

front of my work? To make some sort of scene?” He reached for her but she moved out of
the way.

“In a public place you wouldn’t be able to grab me like a rag doll. I went home and I

told the family we’re divorced. Some of them know about the accident. My dad wants to
send ground troops to your house, and there is a slew of family and friends who want to
see your skin hanging off a stick. I don’t want any more calls about reconciliation, and
don’t try any bullshit moves with the alimony. I just want you to leave me be so I can get
on with my life. And to make sure you do, I’m getting a restraining order against you.
Get help, Ned, before you hurt someone else.” Isabelle dumped her cup in the nearby
garbage and headed for her car.

* * *

Tate hadn’t taken one step out of his cabin in a month. He’d cancelled the grandiose

tour plans he’d made with Cyril and informed his manager he would be taking more
time off than he originally anticipated. He didn’t even want to think about his album’s
deadline. He didn’t take any calls or visitors despite the many people who came over
anyway. Nothing anyone said could make him feel better than the rotten piece of sludge
he felt like. He wondered if she’d gotten any furniture for her apartment or if that jerk of
an ex-husband had been calling her again. Crazy scenarios ran through his head that
made him want to hit someone. He knew in times like these, a person could turn to an
unlikely candidate for comfort. What if she turned to Ned? He hadn’t played his guitar
since she’d left, his inspiration for the songs on his new album gone.

The doorbell rang. Tate lifted himself off the couch to tell yet another person he

wasn’t up for company. He’d been so depressed that even Rowdy stopped coming
around. He opened the door to find Teri-Lyn, Morgan, and Jake standing there.

“He’s alive.” Teri-Lyn pushed past him into the house.
“If that’s what you want to call it.” Morgan shook her head.
“Uncle Tate!” Jake reached for him.
He sighed as he picked up Jake. “I appreciate you coming to check on me, but I’m

not up for visitors.”

“Your nephew missed you.” Morgan glared at him.
Tate kissed Jake on the cheek. “I missed him too.”

“Lucky for you we’re not visitors,” Teri-Lyn said. “Tate McGill, I want to put you over

my knee right now. What the hell are you doing? I can’t take seeing you cooped up in
here. It’s not healthy.”

“It may not seem like it but I’m doing the right thing.”
“Right for who? Joe? Why do you think he tried to sabotage you after all these years?

Because he’s jealous that you’re happy and you’ve made something of yourself.”

“Morgan, you still mad at me?” Tate stole a glance at her.
“No, but I will be if you don’t pull your head out of your ass. You write all those

damn love songs and you don’t know this is the part in the song where you go get your
woman?” Morgan folded her arms over her chest.

“So what’s it gonna be? You gonna put your big boy undies on and act like a man

who knows in his heart that he’s in love with a sweet, caring, beautiful violinist who’s in
Georgia missing him too?” Teri-Lyn glared at her son.

* * *

Tate tried to take Teri-Lyn and Morgan’s advice, but each time he advanced to the

door with his bag, he stopped in tracks. For three days he’d tried to leave for the airport,
but something kept him back. This morning he thought he’d do things a little differently.
He got up early, put on a T-shirt and a pair of running shorts, and did stretches. It had
been a while since he’d jogged. He used to do it religiously when he and Seth were on the
team in high school, but with traveling all the time he’d lost the desire for it.

It was six thirty in the morning, and Seth was coming down the road. Seth had been

doing a lot of jogging lately. Tate suspected that was his way of staving off the excitement
of having another child. Surely, he could keep up with two children, but Tate knew being
in top physical form was also how Seth kept things organized in his mind. Seth slowed
down when he saw Tate.

“Don’t slow down on my account. Mind if I join you?” Tate smiled.
“Not at all.” Seth motioned for him to come on the road.
For a mile they didn’t say a word. Tate just kept the pace with him. It was Seth who

finally broke the ice.

“I don’t believe for a second that you could hurt a woman. Especially Isabelle. Don’t

let Joe rob you of your right to be happy.” Seth turned and faced him.

“He already did that a long time ago.” Tate sighed.
“Before Joe appeared you were in my kitchen on the verge of falling head over heels

for that woman. I teased you about it, but I saw that look in your eyes. It felt damn good
to see you content and hopeful. Don’t ever think you’re not worthy of giving or receiving
love. You’ve been a Blake too long not to know it and believe it.”

Seth was right. Tate was hopeful that day. At the time he didn’t know what the hell

he was hoping for, but the feeling was there. Isabelle was tugging on heartstrings that
had been unraveling since he met her. There were a million reasons why he should stay
away from her. But there was only one that compelled him to go get her. They could
figure it out together, if she were still willing to give him a chance.

“Can I borrow the plane?”
“The same plane that’s been on standby for three days with a flight plan to

Georgia?” Seth smiled.

Tate and Seth headed back to his cabin. If he hurried, he could take a quick shower

and be off to the airport within the hour.

Chapter Twelve

Isabelle fussed with the headband that was keeping her curls at bay. Tonight her

kids would be performing for some big shot who had booked a spur-of-the-moment
private performance and had even rented out the symphony’s concert hall for them to
play. She’d almost choked on the croissant she’d been eating when she’d seen the
request and the donation amount. It boosted the kids’ confidence that someone was
willing to pay that much to hear them perform. The kids were super excited about it, and
even though there was no time to get an extra practice session in, it was their night to
shine. Everyone looked so nice in their dress-up clothes. She gave them all a big group
hug for making the effort to make other kids’ dreams come true.

Isabelle walked onto the stage, ready to give this generous patron of the arts his

money’s worth. Her kids were in their places and ready to go. Now all she needed was an
audience. A door opened behind her, and the usher spoke, directing someone to the
stage. It was show time.

Isabelle turned only to see Tate, handsomely dressed in a navy blue suit and wearing

his Stetson, headed down the aisle toward the stage.

Tate’s gaze was so fixated on Isabelle, dressed elegantly in a black dress with her

curly hair flowing down her back, he didn’t hear the usher ask him if he were ready to be
seated. She looked beautiful.

“Hello, Isabelle.” Tate smiled.
“What are you doing here?” She scowled at him.
“I’m here for my private performance.”
She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have done this.”
“I’ve heard these kids play. I am more than sure I’ll get my money’s worth. And this

is a very desperate, lame attempt to get you to talk to me.” Tate put his hat in a chair and
ascended the stage.

The kids were clustered together, talking about Tate.
“Hello, class.” He waved at them.

“Hi, Mr. McGill. It’s so nice to meet you in person.” June stepped forward and

extended her hand.

“Nice to meet you too, June.” Tate looked past her to see Donovan right behind her.

“Donovan, still practicing your guitar?”

“Yes. You were right. I’ve learned a few things by studying the instruments in my

band.” Donovan gave him a half smile.

Tate looked at Isabelle. “I see you got your cast off. How’s the arm?”
She lifted her chin. “Can we get on with the concert?”
Tate walked toward her. “Care to sit with me?”
Isabelle took a step back. “I have to stay up here.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Reed, we got it,” June said. “Take a seat with Mr. McGill.”
“If you’re sure,” Isabelle murmured.
“It’s fine.” June nodded but she was staring at Tate.
Tate seized the opportunity and took Isabelle’s hand and escorted her to her seat.

June signaled to someone in the control room, and the lights dimmed. The kids began
performing the first piece of music, and even though she squirmed to sit away from him,
Isabelle finally relaxed and became immersed in their performance. Tate was listening to
the kids, but his gaze was glued to her face. He missed that smile. He missed the way she
rubbed his cheek in her sleep. It felt more like forever than the few months that he’d
known her.

Two hours later the kids were performing their last piece, Vivaldi’s Spring Concerto.

When they started, Isabelle grabbed Tate’s hand. It was the piece that Isabelle had been
coaching June through when he’d horned in on her lesson. Her violin solo was coming
up. Tate felt the tension rising within him too, hoping June made it through the song.
June had a difficult start but she powered through it. Tate could see her confidence rising
when she realized she’d just overcome that obstacle. Isabelle threw her arms around his
neck when June nailed it. Tate leaned in to kiss her but Isabelle turned away and
narrowly missed his lips. They both stood and applauded.

“Bravo!” Isabelle yelled so loud her voice echoed around the concert hall.
She congratulated them all for a job well done and informed them Tate had arranged

for them to have dinner at the fancy restaurant attached to the concert hall. When the
kids left the stage, Isabelle started to follow, but Tate jumped in her way.

“Isabelle, I need you to give me a chance to explain.”
“Why do you want to explain now? You made up your mind about us all on your

own.” She bit her lip.

Tate shook his head. “I want to stop running, but I can’t do that without you. I want

to be with you and have the life I was always too afraid to have. You told me if I ever
wanted to stop running, you would walk with me. You said you would walk with me

forever.”

“It was that Texas heat. I must have been delusional.” Isabelle swallowed.
“Maybe I was delusional too. Thinking I could live without you for even one

moment.” Tate put his hands on her arms and pulled her to him.

“Then why did you start hatching an escape plan? You were happy. I know you were

because I was happy too.”

Tate shook his head. “I was busy fixating on the bad, I forgot about the good that

was infused in my life. I think a part of me is still running to that shed for shelter, even
though that part of my life is over. It’s something I can’t simply shake off. Believe me,
I’ve tried. I don’t want to end up like Joe. But as much as I am his son, I was raised by
another man who taught me something about life and women and family and love. The
last thing Joe said to me at the funeral was if I loved you I’d let you go because I’d only
end up hurting you. I fell right into his trap. I love you. I’ve looked at those stars every
night since you left wishing I was holding you in my arms.”

“What took you so long to come to your senses, McGill?” Isabelle played with his tie.
“I was holed up in my cabin feeling sorry for myself. Even Rowdy thought I was too

depressing to visit.”

Isabelle looked into his eyes. “You don’t need that shed for shelter anymore.”
He squeezed her. “Think you can forgive me for being a stubborn fool?”
“Only if you can forgive yourself for thinking we couldn’t be happy together.” She

squeezed him back and looked up at him.

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I love you, Isabelle Reed.” He pushed a curl

away from her face.

“I love you too, Tate McGill.” She stood up on her toes and kissed him.
He looked over at her violin. “I’m in the mood for a song. Let’s see what you got now

that the cast is off your arm.”

Isabelle shook her head. “I went to the doctor. I’ve lost too much function in my

arm. I don’t think I’ll be playing anymore. Definitely not like before. I have a long road
of therapy before me.”

“It’s just the two of us here in your favorite concert hall. I would love to hear you

play.” Tate rubbed her cheek.

“I can’t sound horrendous my first time performing for you. And what if I can’t do

it? What if my talent is gone?” She bit her lip.

“Just because it may not sound the same doesn’t mean it won’t sound good. The

Isabelle I know is a fighter. Isn’t ‘Fight, Fight, Fight’ the Reed motto?” He laughed.

“I hope Morgan didn’t give you a hard time after I left.”
Tate smiled. “Morgan didn’t pull any punches, and I’m grateful for that. She didn’t

want to see you hurt, and she didn’t want me to deny myself real happiness.”

“I feel like I’m standing in the ruins of my former life. I confronted Ned about the

accident and made it clear I don’t want him contacting me again. And I told my family
how I really broke my arm. This is all so much at one time. I may need a strong shoulder
to lean on while I go through therapy and a possible career change.” She gripped him
tighter.

“You can have any body part of mine you want.” Tate kissed her. “J.J. saw an

excellent orthopedic surgeon in Texas when he injured his knee.”

“I know. He told me that a good doctor and the support of family helped him

recover.” She smiled.

“How would you feel about getting a second opinion from his doctor? You could still

video chat your lessons with the kids while you’re at the ranch.”

“I’d like that.” Isabelle kissed him, then went to the chair and took out her violin.

She stood there for a moment, then said, “Too bad you don’t have that precious guitar of
yours, I might be able to teach you a thing or two.”

“Well, what do you know? I brought it with me.” Tate laughed and went behind the

curtain to retrieve his guitar case.

“OK. It’s on.” Isabelle laughed and put her hair into a messy bun on top of her head.
Tate put his guitar strap around his shoulder and looked at her. “So what do you

want to try? Beethoven, Bach, or maybe Vivaldi?”

Isabelle put her hand on her hip. “You know any bluegrass, Tex?”
“What does a Philly girl know about bluegrass?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You’re about to find out. Do you know Burnett’s ‘Man of Constant Sorrow’?” She

winked at him.

Tate smiled as Isabelle lit into her violin and let her go on for a bit before he caught

the rhythm and joined in. Her sound was incredible, and he hoped she wasn’t judging
herself. The poise and grace she exhibited while playing the instrument was wreaking
havoc on his heart. He could see the music that would be made around the house as they
both taught their kids how to play.

Later they would call the family and let them know that he’d succeeded. Right now

he was enjoying playing with the love of his life. Tate smiled. They played pretty well
together. It would be great if they could record something together. As a matter of fact, it
gave him inspiration for a new song.

~ About the Author ~

Rhonda Laurel is a contemporary interracial/multicultural romance writer whose two

great loves are writing and landscape photography. She uses both as a vehicle to convey
the complexity of the human spirit and the beauty of the world around her. Ebb Tide, For
the Love of the Game and Masquerade were released in 2012. Shutter, Memories of You, Star
Crossed, MVP and California Bored and Tourism in 2013. The print anthology, The Rhonda
Laurel Collection, featuring Ebb Tide, For the Love of the Game and Shutter released June
2013.

The Blake Legacy, book 3 in The Blake Boys Series released November 15, 2013!
The author is happily building her backlist.

Discover more about Rhonda Laurel here

http://www.rhondalaurel.com
http://www.facebook.com/authorrhondalaurel
http://www.twitter.com/rhondalaurel
http://www.goodreads.com/RhondaLaurel

~ Also by Rhonda Laurel ~

The Blake Boys Series

For the Love of the Game

The Blake Boys Book One

Rhonda Laurel

This quarterback is making the greatest play of his life…
Quiet bookstore owner Morgan Reed can’t wait to lie on the beach on her much-

needed tropical vacation, but getting tackled by a tall, green-eyed stranger playing touch
football isn’t exactly what she had in mind. Neither is falling for said stranger, or going
along with the eccentric islander who sends them off with a mock wedding. But all’s fair
when it comes to vacation romance, and Morgan has plenty of time to get back to reality
when she gets home.

When he slams into the beautiful Morgan on the beach and sends her to the

infirmary, superstar quarterback Seth Blake insists on helping her recover—if she agrees
to share his bungalow with him. Seth is nothing less than smitten, and the best part is
that the beauty has no idea who he is.

But when he finds out that their little “wedding” was the real thing, Seth finds

himself in a sticky situation. Especially when Morgan finds out the man she fell for isn’t

at all who he made himself out to be…

MVP

The Blake Boys Book Two

Rhonda Laurel

The game has just begun…
Morgan Reed-Blake discovers that being the wife of MVP quarterback Seth Blake has

its perks…and its challenges. Thrust into Seth’s high-profile world, she must wade
through the celebrity, status, and the ghosts of girlfriends past. So when Seth takes
Morgan home to his ranch in Texas and introduces her to his family and friends, she’s
not surprised when his high school sweetheart comes to call. Morgan suspects she wants
to rekindle the flame, and how can she blame her? Distraught over the changes their
relationship has caused for Seth, Morgan wonders if maybe he’s better off without her.

Pro quarterback Seth Blake is elated that his wife Morgan is giving their “fake”

marriage a real chance. But he doesn’t anticipate running into the woman who broke his
heart years ago. He hasn’t told Morgan about the complicated relationship with his ex,
but as he guides Morgan through the maze of his celebrity lifestyle, can he convince her
the past is in the past? The MVP does not accept defeat, and he’s determined not to lose.
But winning Morgan might be the most difficult game of his life…

The Blake Legacy

The Blake Boys Book Three

Rhonda Laurel

Two lovers. Two dreams. One hell of a hard decision…
NFL quarterback Seth Blake is having an unbelievable hot streak—he’s won his third

Super Bowl title the same day his wife Morgan gave birth to their son. Life couldn’t be
better for the new father and MVP. His contract with the Philadelphia Titans expires in a
year, giving him a chance to make a professional dream come true: to play in his home
state for the Texas Wildcats and return to his much-missed Twelve Horseshoes Ranch—
this time, for good.

Morgan Reed-Blake has never been happier. She’s got the best husband, the cutest

baby, and she’s successfully juggling career and family. Her bookstore is expanding, her
charitable organization is growing, and she’s been offered her dream job on the literacy
council. Everything in her Philadelphia world is coming up roses. Until Seth’s contract
with the Titans expires, and his dream of returning home comes close enough to touch…
and the powers that be in Texas start romancing Seth in earnest. Morgan and Seth both
have dreams. But a choice has to be made…

Ebb Tide

Rhonda Laurel

Simmering passion at play.
Natalie Griffin is an attorney who is practical, smart and good at her job. Legalese is

the least of her worries, for much of her time is spent keeping her employer, playboy
extraordinaire Evan Darchon, out of trouble. Natalie has managed organize everything
for him--his company, his home, and his women--but if she could teach him to control
some of his wilder impulses, her job would be a heck of a lot easier.

But what about her impulses? Her cool, controlled demeanor is the perfect

complement to Evan’s wild side, but she craves the carefree way he makes her feel. His
attraction is obvious, but can either of them afford to rock the boat of their professional
relationship?

Shutter

Rhonda Laurel

Photographer Antonio De Soto’s life is out of focus. Everyone in his family thinks

it’s time for him to settle down. He doesn’t want to be strong-armed into domesticity,
even if he does feel the bachelor lifestyle is starting to wear thin. So when his friend
invites him to do a pictorial on the community theater, Antonio’s prepared to do his
thing and follow his normal womanizing M. O. Instead, he finds himself sparring with
the resident artist, Lucy Marceloni. Lucy’s dime-store analysis of his love life—and him—
leaves him angry and shaken, but it’s too close to the truth to dismiss. The quirky artist is
not his type, but their passionate fights generate a deeper heat between them he can’t
ignore…

Lucy wants a man who’s sensitive and intellectual, the exact opposite of Antonio De

Soto. The moment she meets the handsome photographer she pegs him as arrogant and
self-centered, but that doesn’t protect her from the sizzling chemistry between the two of
them. Being drawn to the rogue’s charm and subtle seduction tactics is the last thing she
wants. Working with him on the community theater fairytale production could prove to
be more than she can handle...

Star Crossed

Rhonda Laurel

When Hollywood’s sexiest secret explodes, stars are born.
Music mogul Kate Garrison’s husband is a leading Hollywood director. He also

happens to be a cheat. When he’s caught having an affair with an actress, Kate becomes
the talk of the town—and not in a good way. So when she stumbles into Hollywood’s new
golden boy, Chris Cavanaugh—in the men’s room, of all places—the gossip mill starts
working overtime. Especially since Chris is starring in her husband’s next film.

Chris Cavanaugh couldn’t imagine a woman would have such an effect on his life. But

amid the gossip and Hollywood politics, his only option is to ride out the media storm
and play house. He never expects to actually fall for her, but when illusion begins to look
more and more like reality, Chris has his hands full keeping his career intact and his eye
on the target of making the Hollywood A-list. So why does spending time with Kate
suddenly seem more important?

“Masquerade” Halloween Heat IV

Rhonda Laurel

An Anthology of Erotic Contemporary Romance

Four erotic stories of contemporary romance with just the right amount of Halloween

spice to warm up those cool autumn nights.

“Party Games” by Mina Carter

“Punished by the Cowboy” by Sue Lyndon

“Unmasked” by Brooklyn Wilde

“Masquerade” by Rhonda Laurel

~ More Romance from Etopia Press ~

Bidding Wars

Love Strikes Book One

Lacey Wolfe

A sheriff plus a nurse plus a house equals trouble…
Nurse Molly Harper has had a tough year. But when she decides to regain control of

her life, buying her dream house becomes her first priority. Finding the perfect house
and falling in love with it—that’s the easy part. The hard part is getting rid of the
obnoxious man who thinks he’s going to be the new owner. Even if he is gorgeous. And
the sheriff…

Sheriff Luke Logan needs to buy a house. Getting out of the renting game will help in

the custody battle for his son, so when the perfect place pops up right on his street, he
can’t believe his luck. But there’s already an offer on the table, and the woman won’t
back down. Too bad she doesn’t know that he always goes after what he wants, and he
has no intention of letting her have “his” house. Even if she does make him feel that he
might need more than just a house to make a home…

Mate Not Wanted

Bachelor Auction Book One

Selena Illyria

Letting Madison go unmated? Pierce won’t stand for it…
Lioness shifter Madison doesn’t want to be mated. So when her friends bid and win

tiger shifter Pierce McKinney at the Bachelor Auction, she knows she’s screwed. Pierce is
the one man who can get under her skin. Especially when she knows that sex with Pierce
will burn hotter than the sun…

Pierce McKinney has been trying without luck to wear Madison down. So when her

friends win him at a charity auction, he’s determined to win her for his own. He’ll give
her what she needs and desires, and he’ll even bring in a friend to play to her fantasies.
But Madison belongs to him, and only him. And he intends to show her that he plays for
keeps. Even if she’s too stubborn to admit it. Because Pierce is too stubborn to let her
walk away…

Once a Marine

Patty Campbell

A one-night-stand, or the first day of forever?
BD James is on an upward career path. She works for a tyrant who has already cost

her one fiancé, so the last thing she needs is another manipulating man. She’s tired,
angry, and ready for a meltdown. What she isn’t ready for is Rafael Cruz—a retired
Marine who lives a secret and dangerous double life.

Rafi Cruz is a man who makes things happen, but his timing couldn’t be worse. He’s

leaving on a hostage rescue mission in two days, which means he won’t have time for a
long slow seduction. He’ll have to work fast, or the hot little BD will slip right through
his fingers. She’s the only woman in a long time who’s been strong enough to challenge
him—a quality he values highly. He’s reluctant to change his footloose life, but he’ll do
whatever it takes not to lose her. She’ll understand. Eventually…

But when BD learns Rafi has deliberately kept her in the dark about his black ops

missions, she questions whether he’s the kind of man she can trust, and if he can be as
faithful to her as he is to the Corps…

The Hourglass

Sharon Struth

Can forgiveness survive lies and unspoken truths?
Until Brenda McAllister's husband committed suicide, she appeared to have the

ideal life: a thriving psychology practice, success as a self-help author, and a model
family. But her guilt over her affair with Jack's best friend prevents her from moving on.
Did Jack learn of her infidelity? Was she the cause of his death?

The release of Brenda's second book forces her into an unexpected assignment with

arrogant celebrity author CJ Morrison, whose irritating and edgy exterior hides the
torment of his own mistakes. But as she grows closer to CJ, Brenda learns she wasn't the
only one with secrets--Jack had secrets of his own, unsavory ones that may have led to his
death. While CJ helps Brenda uncover the truth about her husband, she finds the path to
forgiveness isn't always on the map.

The Vendetta

Kecia Adams

A missing painting, a family legacy, a blood oath of vengeance...
Italian businessman Nick Carnavale has spent his life seeking revenge for his

father's murder. So when an old woman—with an agenda of her own and access to a rare
painting—contacts him with a proposal, he jumps at the chance to launch his plans for
vengeance, no matter the cost.

Ski-town barista Lisa Schumacher meets sexy NIck when she serves him espresso in

the small art gallery-café where she works. Intrigued by her unusual customer, and
ignorant of Nick’s connection with her grandmother, Lisa shares dinner and a heart-
stopping kiss with him.

Spurred by temptation and an unexpected invitation, Lisa takes up Nick’s challenge

to follow him to Rome and reunite with her one remaining family member. But when
Lisa’s grandmother unexpectedly dies, and her will dictates a marriage-of-convenience to
Nick, Lisa must weigh her family’s legacy against her dreams for her future. And as Nick
draws ever closer to his revenge, they both must decide if love is stronger than the blood
oath of vengeance—la vendetta.

The Playboys Baby

JM Stewart

They can't forget the past, but is it enough to create a future?
When an accident leaves her guardian to her six-month-old niece, Emma Stanton

must return to her small hometown of Hastings, Montana to find the one man she's
spent the last eight years trying to forget. She and Dillon had grown up together--he was
her sister's best friend. But that hadn't stopped him from sharing a kiss with Emma that
had followed her through the years. Now, not only must she break the news of her
sister's tragic death to Dillon, but she must risk the only family she has left and tell him
he's the baby's father.

Wealthy nightclub owner Dillon James has been used for his name and money one

too many times, so when he comes face-to-face with Emma Stanton and her gorgeous
lips, he's determined to keep things light. All he wants is to be the father his daughter
needs, to make up for not being there for her and her mother. But spending time with
Emma, as she shows him the ropes of caring for his daughter, is wearing down his
defenses. Perhaps it's time he took a chance on love.

If only he can convince Emma to take a chance on him...

Document Outline

Table of Contents
Look for these titles from Rhonda Laurel
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About the Author
Also by Rhonda Laurel
More Romance from Etopia Press

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