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one more decision that had come too late to matter, one more way she could rip out his heart on a daily basis.
    “Well, bully for you,” he said, because she was clearly waiting for a response.
    She did wince then, but she didn’t back down. “I wanted to know if that would be okay with you, if we could at least try to get along.”
    “We can stay the hell out of each other’s way,” he said. “That’s the best I can promise. Take it or leave it. Go or stay. It makes no difference to me.” The lie tripped off his tongue convincingly, he thought. At least he hoped it did. He would not let her see that she still got to him. It was one thing for Mack and Will and his own sister to see right through him, but not Bree. That would be too pathetic.
    There was a quick flash of hurt in her eyes, but then she nodded slowly. “Okay, then,” she said softly, a quiver in her voice that told him she was near tears. He steeled himself against it. So what if he hurt her? It was nothing to the pain she’d caused him.
    She turned on her heel and walked away, giving him a perfect view of her excellent backside. Just staring after her stirred him in ways it shouldn’t. What was wrong with him? Was he a total jerk? A glutton for punishment? Because he knew with every fiber of his being that given a chance, he would take her to bed. Not into his heart again. Never that. But sex? Oh, yeah.
     
    After her uncomfortable—okay, awful— confrontation with Jake, Bree sat in an Adirondack chair on the front porch, her feet propped up on a post, a notebook in her lap. She was making a list, something that was more like Abby than her. She had to get a handle on what she could do if she stayed here, because if she didn’t have a solid plan in mind, it would be too easy to drift back to the life she knew in Chicago, lousyas it was. So far she hadn’t written down one single thing, maybe because she couldn’t stop thinking about Jake and the way he’d looked at her.
    Had she hurt him again for no good reason? If she couldn’t come up with a plan, then she couldn’t stay, and that whole ugly scene would have been for nothing. Hearing the anger and disdain in his voice had dredged up the way she’d felt on the night he’d walked out of her apartment and out of her life. She’d known then, just as she had today, that she deserved every bitter word. Why she’d expected anything different was beyond her. Had she honestly expected him to welcome her home with his familiar crooked smile and a solid, reassuring hug? The idea was ludicrous. Men didn’t just forgive and forget. Most of them wanted to get even. If that was his goal, to hurt her as she’d hurt him, he was well on his way.
    A hint of forgiveness would have been nice, she admitted to herself with a sigh. Jake had been more than the man she’d loved six years ago. He’d been her best friend. He’d been the one she would have talked to about this crossroad in her life. Now they couldn’t even exchange a civil word.
    When her cell phone rang, she answered eagerly. Any distraction was better than this sudden rootlessness she was feeling.
    “Bree, thank goodness,” Jess said, sounding frantic. “Can you get over to the inn right now?”
    “Sure. What’s going on?”
    “I have a wedding here in three hours. The florist who’s supposed to be doing the flowers is in the hospital. He didn’t have a backup, so the wholesaler just dumped boxes and boxes of flowers on my doorstep. I have no idea what to do with them.”
    “Give me ten minutes,” Bree said at once. “Do you have vases, wire, ribbons, anything for making arrangements?”
    “I have vases. That’s it.”
    “Are the bouquets made, at least?”
    “Not that I can see.”
    “Okay, make it a half hour. I’ll pick up some supplies on the way. Is there any way you can call the bride’s mother or a bridesmaid and find out what they had in mind without starting a panic?”
    “I’ll try. The matron of honor is