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It would have been a passionate, fiery explosion of need and want and desire. And love.
    The thought doused his anger like a bucket of cold water.
    At one time, Jen had given him everything, willingly. She’d offered him every ounce of her mind, body, and soul, keeping nothing back for herself. And he’d thrown it away like an old blanket. For a man who’d spent his youth wanting someone to love him for who he was, to accept him and never turn their back on him, he’d sure crapped on the one person who’d done just that. Clay gripped the steering wheel, twisting his hands against the leather cover before dropping his forehead against his knuckles. The anger was long gone, leaving sorrow and regret in its wake. He punched the button to roll up the window, unable to look at her.
    â€œI’m sorry, Jen. God, you have no idea how sorry I am.”
    He felt, rather than saw, her edge farther toward the passenger door, farther from him, from what they’d once had. “I don’t care if you’re sorry.”
    Her voice was cold, emotionless, and he sought her eyes to see if she was lying. She stared out the passenger window, refusing to look at him, but he thought he saw her swipe at her cheek. Was she crying? Jen never cried, and he couldn’t imagine she’d have any tears for him after what he’d done. He wanted to ask for her forgiveness, to know if her tears were for what they’d lost or because it had ever been. Instead he retreated, too afraid to hear the truth. He might not blame her for hating him, but he didn’t want to hear her say it.
    J ENNIFER STARED OUT the window, refusing to look at the obnoxious man beside her. How dare he come and escort her from the bar like she was an irresponsible kid. He wasn’t her boss and he wasn’t her father. He certainly wasn’t her husband, and he had no right to tell people he was. She wiped her cheek, praying he didn’t see the angry tears.
    She hadn’t cried over him in years, even if he had crossed her mind every single day since he left. She tried to convince herself that the only reason she’d thought about him over the past few years was to remind herself what a fool she’d been to buy into his country boy charm and lies. He was a cowboy all right, and he’d saddled up and moved on without her, no matter what promise he’d made. Scott and Derek trusted him; Mike adored him. She wasn’t going to let him make a fool of them either, even if it meant making sure she protected her family from his desertion this time around. They might not see it, but she wasn’t blind.
    As they pulled through the gates of the rodeo grounds, Clay parked the truck just off of the driveway. “We need to talk.”
    â€œI have nothing to say to you.” She wouldn’t look at him, even as her heart begged her to turn his way, to lose herself in those green eyes.
    â€œJen, please. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”
    His voice was gentle, coaxing, holding a pleading note she’d only heard from him once before, in a solitary moment of vulnerability just before he proposed. She tried to remind herself he’d lied then and would lie now, too, but her heart wouldn’t listen. She hated the desire she felt to comfort him. She turned her head toward him slightly, giving him only a view of her profile.
    â€œI hurt you. I get it. I really do. I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do but—”
    He paused, running his hand through his hair. She hadn’t seen it this long before, nearly hanging into his eyes. Her fingers itched to brush the locks back from his forehead.
    â€œI don’t even know what else to say. I can’t make this better.” Clay shook his head in defeat.
    â€œIt will never be the same, Clay. I’m not the same. I don’t want to be.” She couldn’t look directly at him, didn’t want to acknowledge