His arms tightened, pulling her hard against him in a silent I’ve got you and she let herself go, grinding into him, suddenly desperate to feel as much of him as she could.

Not falling for him . . .

A fact made much easier when he pulled free and met her gaze with reluctance. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Did you decide that before or after the night at the lake?” she asked.

He winced and closed his eyes for a beat.

Pulling her hands from his delicious body, she tried not to notice that they were wound up against each other, only an inch—or more accurately eight to nine inches—away from having a very happy ending to the night.

“I was serious about this not becoming serious,” he said.

“And I heard you.”

He opened his eyes, his gaze unwavering on hers. “I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t any misunderstanding.”

It was like diving into the cold ocean without any of the feel-good euphoria to go with it. Or the boogie board. Or the ability to swim. He’d literally just jumped into her personal nightmare and found the one thing that could paralyze her. Her deepest, darkest fear.

That she didn’t, couldn’t, trust her own love meter in picking the right guy because she had no idea what a normal relationship was even like.

Which was ridiculous because she didn’t even want that. So she nodded, like it all made perfect sense when actually, nothing made any sense at all; not the way her body still wanted his, not the stabbing, sharp pain where her heart sat in her chest, and not the way she wanted to beg him to change his mind.

But she no longer begged for affections.

She no longer needed anyone’s affections at all and she blamed him for making her forget that even for a second. “Look at the time,” she said, not wearing a watch or checking her phone. She rose to her feet and backed away. “I’ve gotta get going.”

And then she ran to her car, where she paused to smack her forehead on the steering wheel a few times to knock some sense into herself before driving off into the night.

Chapter 14

When your anxiety goes away and having no anxiety gives you anxiety.

Lanie was on the road back to the winery when she took a call from Alyssa. There’d been some sort of electrical outage and the cottages were all out of power until morning.

Perfect.

“We’ve shifted people around in the big house,” Alyssa said. “Everyone has a bedroom for tonight, so no worries.”

Oh hell no. “Thanks, but I can get a hotel.”

“Not in Wildstone, you can’t,” Alyssa said. “No hotels. There’s a B&B, but why spend money? Plus, it’s haunted. We’ve got a room for you here in the big house—it’s all arranged. Second floor, right wing, last bedroom on the left.”

After the call, Lanie let out a breath and decided she needed a little time out, and that time out needed to come with a drink. Wildstone was incredibly picturesque and quaint but it wasn’t exactly hopping. She pulled into Whiskey River, the lone local bar and grill.

In the parking lot she quickly French-braided her still-damp hair and added lip gloss, her one point of pride being that she look as great as possible while feeling as low as possible. It made no sense to her, it really didn’t. She’d gone into this thing with Mark with no expectations. Absolutely none. There was nothing to take; nothing offered except a good time.

It’d all sounded good at the time. So why, then, back at the beach with Mark hadn’t she just expressed her understanding of the situation—because she did understand, more than he could know—and jump his bones?

Instead, she’d protected herself and walked away, hurt and surprised. Because while Mark wasn’t planning on giving anything, she already had. More than one piece of her heart already belonged to his children, his family.

And, if she was being honest, him as well.

Wow. She was really throwing herself a pity party here. Wanting to be over it, she entered Whiskey River and then stopped short at the sight of River sitting at a table by herself, a huge platter of wings in front of her.

River looked embarrassed. “I’d like to say that I’m here with a party of eight, but it’s just me and baby. You going to sit?”

Was she? She liked River, just another person she hadn’t intended to like at all. But even after all these weeks, River still held back with her. Not anyone else, just Lanie. It was one of those things, she knew. She’d never really made friends very easily. But now she was actually trying, though she had no idea why.

Because you’re tired of being a lone wolf . . .

So she sat. “I once ate an entire box of pizza rolls,” she said, aiming to make River feel better. “That’s thirty-six, in case you didn’t know, and the box said it served eight.”

River laughed and rubbed her tummy.

“You having pains?”

“No, the baby’s just active. She thinks kicking my bladder is fun.”

“She?” Lanie asked.

“Yes. Last week Cora changed my status to permanent employee so I could get benefits. She set me up with her friend in town, an ob-gyn. I had an ultrasound today. I’m glad she’s a girl. I like girls far better than males right about now.”

“So . . . you’re staying here in Wildstone?”

River hesitated and then nodded. “It’s nice not to have to worry about a job. And they’re so wonderful here.” She shook her head. “Earlier today Holden and Mark brought me a bassinet. They made it themselves, using the wood from old wine barrels. It’s beautiful and . . . amazing.” She hesitated. “I still feel like I landed on that Nice Planet.”

“You deserve for good things to happen to you, like anyone else,” Lanie said.

River met her gaze, hers suddenly hooded. “I’m not used to good things happening to me.”

Lanie didn’t want to be moved, but she was. “You heard about the electricity being out at the cottages?”

“And that we’re in the big house tonight? Yeah.” River didn’t look put out or anxious about that at all. “It’s going to be like a dream, sleeping in that big, huge place.”

Lanie, not wanting to burst her bubble, forced a smile. “Yeah, like a dream.”

Alyssa walked in with baby Elsa in a wrap against her chest. She started to go to the bar but saw River and Lanie, and headed their way instead. “Hey,” she said. “I’m picking up some food for Owen and I. How you two doing?”

Before either could answer, a scuffle broke out at the bar. Two guys had started an argument, getting off their barstools to do it, shoving each other with one hand, their other hands both still occupied with their beers, which sloshed over with every subsequent shove.

The bartender leapt over the bar and got between them, arms outstretched to hold them apart. “I’ve told you both you’re not allowed to be in here at the same time. I also told you that the next time it happened, I was calling the cops.”

“Call ’em,” one of them growled.

“Already did, dumbass,” the bartender said.

“Hey, he followed me here,” the other guy said, jabbing his beer in the direction of the first idiot.