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time.
    When it was just sex they were perfectly capable of making their own good time, but the desire for more kept them focused on finding the woman for all of them.
    Michael was getting older and wanted a wife and family, so he'd taken the first turn looking for a woman. He'd tried, but he attracted timid, nervous women who didn't suit what they had in mind.
    Second oldest, Trevor tried next. He was charismatic, and Cody envied his ability to turn acquaintances into friends in minutes. So he'd had good luck meeting women. The problem was, he would take anything blond, busty, and wearing a skirt back to their hotel. They found women who enjoyed being with all three of them, but they hadn't been looking for permanency. To be fair, there hadn't been a single one they'd wanted to take home to their mother, but it gave them hope and practice.
    That ended when the last one was more equipped under “her” skirt than any of the brothers, so the job of scouting possible mates fell to Cody.
    Again, they'd been patient. The local women weren't interested, so he headed to Billings and Missoula. All the beautiful women he'd seen, all the interesting women he'd spoken with hadn't raised more than casual interest on his part.
    Then he'd seen her across a tiny San Antonio bar. Still in her work scrubs with her fuzzy hair in a ponytail, his eyes locked on her and wouldn't move away. The woman for them was Poppy Maguire, and she was seven hundred miles south.
    If not for Paul's heart, they'd have already been back.
    "I know that look,” Trevor announced, striding into the office with Michael on his heels. “Someone is thinking of chicks."
    "Of one chick,” Michael corrected. “That's the kind of look only Poppy Maguire can bring on. Have you heard from her?"
    "No,” Cody answered, accepting the beer Michael offered. “I called the bar we hung out in, and Nick said he hadn't seen her in weeks. The only thing I can think of is to go back down there ourselves and find her."
    Trevor flopped on the sofa, propping bare feet on the arm. “Bartender, good thinking. I couldn't find anything either. Her dad's a dick, by the way, hung up on me twice. There's a race on Thursday in San Antonio. I'm thinking that might be karma telling us to get our asses down there."
    "This Thursday?” Cody pushed away from his desk and checked his wall calendar.
    Trevor flicked on the gaming system he kept in every office and looked Cody's way while it booted. “Yep, this Thursday. Can you handle three more days, Baby Boy?"
    "Can you, Middle Man?” he shot back.
    Trevor sighed, he was the smartass of the group, probably of any group, but Cody knew he was also the most sensitive of them. “I don't know. It was one week and one night, not even the whole night, and I miss her all the fucking time. How did she get under my skin that fast?"
    "I miss her smile and the way she smells. How did she always smell good after working all day at a hospital?” Michael commiserated. Usually he was more introverted in his thoughts but Poppy changed them in little ways. For Michael, spending time with her had opened him up some. “I can go Wednesday."
    "I'll have to let Dad know I'm going, but Wednesday should work for me,” Cody agreed, excitement bubbling in his chest.
    "Damn, she's got us whipped already. We are so screwed.” A prediction they all hoped would become fact as Trevor blew up a virtual prison. “Wednesday it is."
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Chapter 3
    Poppy bit back a sigh as she wrapped another set of stitches. It was Thursday evening yet she'd been dealing with weekend quality injuries all day. Stupid was equal opportunity, but the bulk of her work usually happened Friday and Saturday. Car accidents, broken arms acquired by falling off ladders, kids shoving paperclips into sockets, usually were contained to the weekend when people had time to be irresponsibly active. Lucky her, the weekend had started early.
    "Don't let these get wet,” she advised