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she thought again about the power of Boone Gallagher’s smile.

    “ Aaayyiii , Boone. She’s the one Sam left the house to?” Sonny Chavez clucked his tongue. “ Muy bonita .”
    “You’re married. And she won’t be here long. She’s going to sell the house to me as soon as she’s satisfied Sam’s requirement.”
    “Got under your skin, eh?”
    “She’s a looker, all right. But not my type.”
    “I haven’t seen you look at a woman like that since—”
    Boone’s jaw tightened. “I’m not looking now.”
    “You’ll play hell finding one like that around here. Where’d she come from?”
    “The city.” Boone spat out the words.
    “Which city?”
    “It doesn’t matter. City women don’t stick out here. She’ll be gone soon.”
    “But while she’s here…”
    Boone shot him a glare. “Can it, Sonny. I’m not looking for a woman.” It had been a very long time, but no way. Not this woman.
    “Hell, Boone, when you gonna get over a woman who—”
    “Watch it, Sonny.”
    “I’m sorry. But Helen was gone the moment she got here. You did everything you could. You turned yourself inside out, trying to please both her and your dad. It wasn’t your fault.”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.” He slid the lock closed on the trailer and pulled off his gloves. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee before I leave. See you this afternoon.”
    Sonny just shook his head. “Helen was never going to be satisfied. It ever occur to you that maybe she wasn’t good enough for you? Maybe it wasn’t you who screwed up?”
    “No. It didn’t. Period.” Boone turned and walked toward the house. Helen had been effervescent when they’d married and for many months after, until—
    Until he’d turned her life upside down and taken her to live in a nowhere town with an old man who disliked her on sight.
    And she’d never been the same again. She’d be alive today if he hadn’t dragged her halfway across the country out of a sense of duty to a man who didn’t care enough to let his sons know when he was dying.
    Forget it, Boone. It’s an old subject . He had put it to rest until she showed up.
    She. The looker. Wearing that tiny scrap of lace struggling to cover curves Boone could still feel against his body.
    Damn. Radish roses and scraps of lace. It was shaping up to be the longest thirty days of his life.
    Boone pulled off his boots outside the kitchen door and stepped inside in his sock feet, headed for the coffeepot Vondell kept going all day—
    And was blindsided by the curves he’d just been trying to banish from his brain.
    Maddie stumbled, and he reached out to steady her, the thin silk kimono transmitting her body heat straight into his palms.
    He jerked away. “Whoa—where’s the fire?”
    Maddie’s gray eyes were velvet-soft and sleepy. All too easily, he could imagine that look under other circumstances. He quickly shifted his gaze away and downward.
    Big mistake. The midnight blue kimono gapped at the cleavage, and lace clung to the curves he’d admired a few minutes before.
    Only now, he wasn’t yards away. He was within inches. His fingers flexed, itching to touch, to see if what he remembered…
    He cleared a throat gone suddenly dry. “Uh…I came to get coffee.”
    “That’s where I was headed. I’ll pour you a cup,” she murmured in that low, throaty tone that detoured right past his brain into far more dangerous regions. She turned away and crossed the small space, standing on tiptoes to reach two mugs.
    And there they were. Those long, long legs that had walked through his dreams more than once last night. The kimono wrapped hips that definitely belonged to a woman, the fabric barely brushing the tops of her thighs.
    “—or sugar?” Red highlights shone from her dark hair when her head swung around.
    Hell. Get a grip, Boone . Jaw tightening, he bit off the words. “Black. Just black. You don’t need to wait on me.”
    Mug in hand, she crossed the floor, her full