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make. Because nowadays, Caitlin looked at Cailkirn as the one place of safety in the whole wide world. The only home her heart would ever long for.
    Even so, she didn’t welcome her reaction to Tack’s twenty-eight-year-old self. And she didn’t think he would either.
    The biggest surprise wasn’t that Tack was the object of her fluttering sexual desire; it was the fact that she was feeling that kind of craving at all. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt desire. But her body was reacting to Tack like he’d been bathed in aphrodisiacs. She wanted to touch him, taste his salty skin, and inhale his scent. It was such an unfamiliar sensation that Caitlin struggled with following through on her food ritual.
    She had to eat the portion of food she’d assigned herself. Her head knew that. The rest of her did not want to cooperate.
    Forcing herself to take a bite, Caitlin let the conversation go on around her.
    But her reaction to Tack didn’t get any more comprehensible or easy to handle, and every bite was an effort in a way eating hadn’t been for a while.
    It took all of her self-possession to stay at the table when what she really wanted was to get up and leave. As happy as she was to be with her family again, she felt them watching her, gauging her mood and her health. Their concern was a balm, but it overwhelmed her, too, pressing in on her, making her feel the need to keep repeating that she was all right. That they didn’t need to worry about her anymore.
    Even if she wasn’t entirely sure that was true.
    She couldn’t help but feel nauseated just looking at the plate of food in front of her. The half she’d portioned to eat looked like a mountain of meat and vegetables now.
    That combined with Caitlin’s unexpected sexual reaction to Tack and the desire to find her old room and hide behind a closed door just got bigger.
    But hiding hadn’t done her any favors in the past and she was doing her best not to revert to what had ultimately become a self-destructive defense mechanism.
    So, she ate. Very little and very slowly, but she kept at it and did her best to ignore her response to Tack.
    Even if he didn’t hate her for the past, she was never putting herself at the mercy of a man again. Not even Tack. Caitlin was going to die a Grant now that she’d reclaimed her maiden name.
    Besides, of all men, Tack deserved a woman who wasn’t glued together like a shattered vase.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T ack shifted his tall frame restlessly, kicking off the blankets in the dark. Thoughts of Kitty would not let him sleep.
    Even though his father and grandfather had built the bed for Tack’s comfort, he couldn’t settle tonight.
    He was pretty sure the size of his bed had been a not-so-subtle hint from the older generations. It was the width of a king and had an extra six inches in length, definitely more than big enough for two people.
    No one else had shared it with him in the two years since he’d moved into his custom-designed log cabin.
    Tack didn’t have time for a relationship and kept his sex life to tourists or trips to Anchorage in the winter. A healthy adult male with a strong sex drive, if not inclination toward commitment, Tack had been a temporary visitor on a helluva lot of cruise ships moored in the Cailkirn harbor.
    He didn’t bring casual sex partners to his cabin. Tack had every intention of sharing his home with a wife and family someday, but until then it was his sanctuary—the way it should be.
    It didn’t sound like Kitty’s place in California had been a sanctuary for her. Not even a little bit.
    Tack had spent eight years resenting her for ejecting him from her life the minute she got engaged to that bastard Nevin Barston.
    Tack had never once considered that Kitty might have caused herself more emotional damage with that decision than she’d done to him. He sure couldn’t ignore that possibility now.
    There was no damn question that she’d needed him the past eight years. No