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Bryce took the rolling pin from her mother’s hands, floured it, shot Jenna a to-die-for wink and began

rolling out the pastry while her mom looked on, clearly awed by his skills.

She’d never get tired of watching him cook, the way he always seemed to enjoy every little task, from

chopping to peeling to rolling. He cooked with such love; he loved the food but most of all he loved to

prepare it and share it with others.

Jenna realized that the majority of those creations were new ways of preparing old standbys. He loved

comfort food. The kind of dishes that were meant to be passed down from generation to generation and

served on long, scarred wooden tables with lots of people laughing and enjoying their meal. That was

why he loved Italy so much. For Italians, food was a celebration of love and family. Dining together

brought closeness—something that Bryce’s family had severely lacked.

Jenna knew that in the Ryder household, mealtimes were not shared. The boys had been fed first, in the

kitchen; then their parents would sit in the dining room with a fancy tablecloth and eat off the good china.

There had been no laughter. No warmth around the Ryder table.

That was why Bryce had always been at her place. Why he had jumped at her mom’s invitations to eat

supper with them. This was the real Bryce. The one who loved her. The one who had always seemed to

be part of her family. The one who always would be a part of her—forever.

Well, right now he was mighty busy rolling pastry and flustering her mother. She needed something to do

other than ogling Bryce. “Anyone know where the newspaper is?” she asked.

“Dad took it out to the barn, and I don’t think he brought it back. But there’s a news magazine that

Sarah picked up at the supermarket yesterday. It’s in the living room, on the coffee table.”

Jenna sauntered into the living room and picked up the magazine. It would pass the time while Bryce was

occupied cooking.

“Find it, honey?”

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“Yeah,” she mumbled as she returned to the kitchen, leafing through the glossy pages. The magazine fell

open to the center spread and she froze in her tracks.

Sexy Chef ’s Latest Dish

There were pictures of her and Bryce in Tuscany, and—oh, God, there was one of them in the lake. Her

chest was plastered against Bryce’s chest, but even though only her back was showing, you could still

see the sides of her big breasts spilling out. And then there was one of them in the market, the day he’d

given her the ring. He was looking down at her, cupping her cheeks, a look of adoration on his face.

Beneath the picture was the caption “Ready for a committed relationship,” as if his words had been

rehearsed and caught on tape by an interviewer. And maybe they had.

What the fuck was this?

She skimmed the article, growing more and more incensed as she read the story of their time in Italy. The

writer played up the fact she wasn’t the sort of woman he usually cavorted with, and if he used the

phrase “girl next door” once, he used it a dozen times.

“Jenna?”

She looked up from the magazine. She felt ugly. Stupid. Betrayed. The longer she stood there, the more

ridiculous she felt.

“Honey, what is it? You’ve lost all the pinkness in your cheeks.”

“It’s nothing. Mom. I’ll be all right.”

“Babe?” Bryce’s beautiful face showed bewilderment. She wanted to screamYou’ve been found out,

asshole , but she didn’t have the strength to yell and not burst into tears.

His expression fell, and Jenna saw him reach for the dish towel. Saw him wipe his hands, the same hands

that had done so many wicked and wonderful things to her body—the same hands that had left imprints

on her heart and soul. He tossed the towel aside and started toward her, reaching out to touch her.

She couldn’t let that happen. She didn’t want to be near him. Not yet. Not until she knew what she was

going to say, how she was going to act. Because there was no way in hell Jenna was going to show

Bryce that he’d ripped her heart from her chest and left her bleeding to death. She had given him another

chance, and that was her own stupid mistake.

“Jenna?” he asked, then stopped. His gaze suddenly shot to the magazine that had fallen to the floor. His

face paled as he recognized the pictures of them together in Tuscany.

“Jenna, no,” he said, coming toward her like a bullet. She backed away, her bottom lip quivering. “I can

explain. Let me explain.”

She turned and ran then. Heard him following after her, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood

floors.

“Fuck!”he yelled, following her down the hall to the front door as he struggled to shove his feet into his

shoes. “Let me explain. Jenna, don’t do this, not like this.”

But she was out the door and running down the path toward her dad’s beat-up pickup truck as fast as

her flip-flops would carry her. He always left the keys in the ignition and Jenna prayed they’d still be

there, because Bryce was catching up to her.

The screen door slammed shut on its squeaky hinges. Jenna ran faster, until she was crying and gasping.

Jumping up into the cab of the truck, she had just enough time to lock the doors before Bryce reached

her.

“Jenna,” he roared, trying like a madman to open the door. “Don’t go. I don’t want you driving. C’mon,

Jenna,” he ordered as he glared at her through the window. “Get out of the truck and give me a chance

to explain. Or, if you don’t want to talk to me, then that’s fine. I’ll leave. Just . . . don’t drive away. Not

like this.”

He didn’t deserve anything from her, most especially a chance. Not trusting herself to speak, Jenna put

the truck in reverse. The gas pedal hit the floor and the old Chevy fishtailed a bit, then barreled back

down the gravel drive. Stones and dust flew up around her, blinding her along with her tears. As she spun

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the truck around and headed down the road, she saw Bryce standing alone in the evaporating dust.

Her heart crumbled, just like the dust, and she drove faster, not knowing where she was going. Only

knowing she had to put as many miles between them as she could.

Everything they had done had been a lie. He’d used her. Had made her think that she meant something

more to him than a means to an end. She had actually believed him when he told her he loved her.

What a joke. She was a joke. And this whole thing—the idea of them together—was the biggest joke of

all.

Her cell rang, the ring tone letting her know that it was Sarah. Jenna pulled the truck over and fished her

cell phone out of her pocket.

“Jenna?” came Sarah’s frantic voice.

“I’m here,” she said through sobs. God, she was so pathetic.

“He just wants to know that you’re safe,” Sarah said. Then she lowered her voice. “He’s . . . ah . . . he’s

pretty much climbing out of his skin, Jen.”

“Too damn bad.”

“Jenna, you’ve terrified him.”

“No, I haven’t. He’s just worried because he’s been found out, that’s all. He’s wondering how he’s

going to get his rep back after wasting nearly half of his four-week deadline with me.”

“He loves you, Jenna. You should see him. If you could see how he looks, how heartbroken he is, you

wouldn’t doubt his feelings.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned this past week, Sarah, it’s that Bryce Ryder should have been an actor.”

“Where are you going?”

“The Caddy for a margarita, and if you tell him where I’ve gone, I’ll disown you. I swear I will.”

“I’ll meet you there in ten.”

Jenna flipped her cell phone shut and rested her head against the steering wheel. For the first time in her

life, she hated Bryce and everything about him. She hated herself, too, for making up that stupid plan in

the first place.

Her phone rang again and she answered in a tone that was the furthest thing from civil.

“Miss McCabe?”

Jenna sat up straight and brushed the hair from her face. “Yes.”

“This is Leonard Greenwood from Greenwood Financial.”

Jenna’s heart began to pump in overdrive. This was about her loan.Oh, God, she silently prayed,let this

be good news.

“I’m afraid that I have to decline your loan. You’ve got excellent credit, and Global Marketing is really

doing quite well for so new a company. But it’s that newness that makes it a bit too unstable for our

stakeholders. You might want to try for another loan in a year or two, once you have a bit more equity in

your business.”

Jenna didn’t even say goodbye. The phone fell from her hand and landed on the bench beside her.

Not only could she kiss her friendship with Bryce goodbye—her entire family could kiss the farm

goodbye, too.

There was nothing to save the McCabe farm from foreclosure. Nothing.

Putting the truck into drive, Jenna headed for the Cadillac bar. It was going to take more than one

margarita to get over this.

Eighteen

“ Here, I brought you up a treat.”

Jenna reluctantly tore her gaze from the twilight sky to watch her sister flop down beside her on the

haystack.

“It’s chai latte. You’ll love it. It’s my latest addiction. And here’s something else that’ll take away the

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pain.”

Jenna grinned even though a new flush of tears was welling in her eyes. “White chocolate macadamia nut

cookies?”

“My world-famous,” Sarah said as she handed her a ziplock bag full of them. “And still warm, too. Oh

yeah,” her sister murmured as she reached into her sweater pocket. “Thought you might be running low.”

Jenna took the wad of fresh tissues and laughed even as the tears began to spill down her cheeks.

“You’d think I’d be all dried up by now, wouldn’t you? After those margaritas and crying on your

shoulder all afternoon, I’m surprised I have water left in me.”

With a sad smile, her sister reached out and hugged her. “You’ve got a right to cry as much as you want.

I’m sorry I interfered with you and Bryce. It’s just . . . Trey and I had both of your best interests at

heart.”

“It’s not just Bryce,” Jenna said through sniffles. “It’s the thought of losing this place that is also breaking

my heart. If only I could have gotten that loan against the business.”

“You could never come up with that kind of cash, Jen,” Sarah said. “Besides, you can’t risk your future

for this place. Even though we both want the farm to stay in McCabe hands forever, it’s not realistic. The

farm has been losing money for decades. And now improvements are needed, and there’re no funds for

that. It’s a money pit. You getting the first loan is only a bandage on a gaping wound.”

Jenna knew Sarah was right, but still she felt her heart split in two as she looked down the open door of

the hayloft to the surrounding countryside. “You’re the softie,” Jenna said, through a laugh. “I’m the

realist. I’m supposed to be telling you this stuff, not the other way around.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never left the farm, and while I’m a daydreamer, I’m a realist when it comes to this

place. It’s a lot of hard work for little return, Jenna. I’d hate to see you lose your business because you

felt you owed it to Mom and Dad or your sisters.”

“I wanted it for our kids, too, Sarah.”

Sarah leaned her head in until it was resting on Jenna’s shoulder. “I know, Jen, but it’s not to be. We can

forge new memories. It’s not like the farm is what made it home for us—it was us, Mom, Dad and

Emily.”

“How’s Dad?”

“Surprisingly okay,” Sarah said as she sipped at her latte. “He hasn’t told us who has bought the farm,

but he has hopes that he can rent the land and still keep the cattle.”

“He and the new owner have spoken?”

“I don’t know. But when he called us all together and told us the farm had been sold, he said the new

owner had no intention of razing the place to put in a big mall.”

“Obviously Bryce’s father was outbid.”

Sarah shrugged. “I guess so. Dad said it’s someone from the city who wants a chance at a quiet life.”

“Well, he’ll have that out here.”

The crickets echoed her sister’s nod. “Remember how we used to play house up here?” she asked,

reminding Jenna of childhood days that now seemed like a distant dream.

“You always wanted to be the mother,” Jenna teased.

“Still do,” Sarah laughed.

“Remember how you always conned Emily into being the dad?”

“And I fricking hated it, too,” called a voice from below. A few seconds later Emily’s red hair could be

seen from the top of the ladder, followed next by her glasses. “And I also hated how I wasn’t allowed up

here when you had your friends over.”

Emily flopped down beside them and pulled a stray piece of hay from the stack. Twirling it between her

fingers, she peered down the loft with Sarah and Jenna.

“I remember sitting on my window seat watching you two, dreaming about the day I could have boys up

here.”

“We weren’t allowed to have boys up here,” Jenna reminded her.

“Well, that didn’t stop you from having Trey and Bryce up here. And don’t bother to deny it, Jenna. I

saw you guys. More than once.”

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