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He rubbed his jaw, held her gaze. “So, if you think you might be interested in seeing the tree and small-town generosity at work, I’d be happy to pick you up so you can experience it firsthand.” When she nodded, his lips pulled into a slow smile. “Okay then. See you at seven. And save room for wings and sliders.” Vic patted his flat belly. “They’re a definite must-have.”

Rae had been so caught up listening to Vic talk about how he and his friends helped others that she hadn’t considered what it would be like to spend after-work time with the man who’d begun to occupy too much of her thoughts. The more she observed, the more she realized Vic Tramont was a lot more than a handsome face with a great body and a smile that made a woman’s pulse triple. He was kind, thoughtful, generous. He was a good person.

Vic picked her up a few minutes before seven, drove her to O’Reilly’s Bar & Grille. Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down” reached them as Vic held open the bar door, placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her toward a booth in the corner. Rae knew she wasn’t imagining the eyes on them, but Vic didn’t seem to notice as he helped her out of her jacket, shrugged out of his own, and slid into the booth opposite her.

“I haven’t been in this place since—” Rae squinted, tried to remember the last time she’d visited O’Reilly’s. “It’s been a while, but I do remember thefirsttime I came here.” She thought of Leah and how her sister had been at the center of so many parts of her life before Rae moved away. “It was the summer of my twenty-first birthday, and Leah wanted to buy me a drink. She told me to stick with wine or beer, but no, I wanted a cocktail—a mojito.” She made a face as she recalled how she drank two of them, way too fast, and devoured a dozen wings. “It didn’t end well. Actually, it ended the way you’d think it would when you don’t listen to your gut or your sister.”

That comment made Vic laugh. “I think I get the visual.” His dark eyes sparkled, his voice filled with humor. “I like picturing you almost human.”

There was something about the way he was looking at her that made her feel vulnerable, as though he could see more than he should. Rae cleared her throat, shifted in the booth, and picked up a menu. “Yes, well, I learned my lesson and I don’t intend to make that mistake again.”

“Which one? Not listening to your gut, or not listening to your sister?”

His words stretched across the table, intimate, curious. “Both.” She glanced up from the menu, met his gaze.

He hesitated a second. “We’re not talking about drinking too many mojitos or listening to your sister, are we?”

18

“No.” Rae was talking about trusting her gut and her sister abouthim: Vic was one of the good guys and maybe he could be good for her. But her gut also told her somebody like him could dig into her soul, see too much...hurt her.

A nod, a quiet “Okay then.” One more nod and he pointed to the menu. “Let’s order drinks and then we’ll start on the food.”

And that was the end of the “almost” conversation about trusting your gut and the growing and undeniable attraction between them. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it either. Maybe he was just as confused as she was. They ordered their drinks and Vic motioned her toward the Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with multi-colored twinkle lights and cut-out paper mittens. The “mittens” had a number on the front and gift ideas including color, size, and the sex of the child on the back. Vic told her that every year the donations for this drive increased as well as the anonymous donors.

“We all have our thoughts on who those anonymous donors might be.” He crossed his arms over his chest, slid her a grin. “Harry Blacksworth’s in the number one position, followed by Nick and Delilah Borado, Grayson Westfield, Roman Ventori. You may remember some of those names or not.” He flipped over a mitten, read the back. “Very generous, but you’d be surprised how people give when it’s a cause they believe in.”

“I really love how the town pulls together and gets involved. Plus, it’s so much better than just writing a check and hoping it reaches those who need it.”

“True, but what we do takes time and careful thought and some people don’t want to give up either one.”

Was he talking about her? There’d been no accusation in his voice, no criticism or tone that implied she belonged to that group. It wasn’t necessary because shedidbelong to the can’t-be-bothered group, but she wanted to change that. Starting now. “I’d like to help with the drive.”

Vic glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t trying to guilt you into anything.”

“I know that, Vic. Iwantto help.” Pause and a soft “I want to help make a difference.”

She thought he’d like the idea, but the flat lips and brackets around his mouth said she’d been wrong. “I thought you said you’d be gone before Christmas.”

Yes, she had said that when she first arrived in Magdalena, along withWhen can I get back to my life?But the longer she was here and the more time she spent with the town and Vic, the less urgency she felt to leave. Should she admitthat? Would he want her to, or would that put a strain on whatever was happening between them? Fear kept her from admitting anything other than “Plans change.”

The pinched brows and the tense jaw said he wanted clarification, but before Vic could ask for it, a great-looking guy approached them, shook Vic’s hand, and introduced himself to Rae. Nick Borado might wear flannel shirts, faded jeans, and a five-o’clock shadow, but the man was straight-up class. Rae had read about him a few years back when he’d been part of a jet-setting crowd working his way through his father’s money, partying with blondes, brunettes, and redheads. But then she readanotherstory about him, one that said he’d hired a look-alike to handle his partying reputation while he concentrated on other things—like work and a life that mattered.

There was a whole semi-scandal about him and the TV host, Delilah O’Reilly: the marriage, the divorce, the reunion followed by a “situation” that almost tore them apart again. But here they were, married, working side by side, planning their future in this small town. She’d like to meet Delilah, ask what she thought about living in Magdalena and if the transition had been difficult. Actually, she’d like to ask Nick the same thing, but a three-minute conversation with a person she just met wasn’t going to segue into that particular question. For now, the chatting, laughter, and ordering drinks would have to be enough.

Rae was still wondering how Nick and Delilah transitioned from their other lives to Magdalena, when he returned with their drinks.

“Here you go.” Nick set a glass of wine in front of Rae, handed Vic a bottle of beer and asked, “Are you going to have the usual tonight?”

Vic grinned, glanced at Rae. “The usual would be a dozen wings extra hot with a side of hummus and red pepper strips.”

She tried to keep from smiling. Chicken wings and hummus? “You don’t say?”

Nick laughed, crossed his arms over his chest. “My wife believes in bringing healthy to tasty. She’s created a few different dishes including a chicken avocado slider that’s a big hit. Even the diehards go crazy over it.”

“Then I think we should try the sliders and the wings and hummus.”

“Uh, Rae?” Vic toyed with his beer bottle. “The wings are really hot. I mean hot like burn-your-lips hot.”