Riley pulled up a chair next to the sofa. “Late night for her.”

“Long day for her. She was excited about this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the invitation.”

She crooked a smile. “For Zoey, of course.”

“For both of us. I enjoyed the concert, too.”

***

It hovered on the tip of her tongue, the why not me question she wanted to ask. But Zoey lay sleeping like an angel on the sofa a foot away from Ethan. Now wasn’t the time.

It would never be the right time to ask a question for which there wasn’t ever going to be a good enough answer.

Because he’d preferred Amanda, and she’d never seen it coming. She’d spent years going over it in her head—all the times the three of them had been together. Why hadn’t she seen it?

Enough. She wasn’t eighteen years old anymore. Amanda was dead, and there was no point in rehashing old hurts.

But the question still burned inside of her, desperate to be asked.

She hoped she could get out of this town and soon before the question spilled out.

“Great crowd tonight,” he finally said, no doubt to fill the silence in the room.

“Yeah, it was. Who knew everyone would come?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Riley, everyone here is proud of you.”

“I didn’t think anyone here liked me anymore. I hadn’t been back since I left.”

“People don’t hold grudges like that. You know how this town is.”

“I guess I forgot how forgiving folks could be.” She’d forgotten a lot of things. Like how to be forgiving.

She lifted her gaze to Ethan, remembered the past, only this time the good parts instead of the bad.

He looked good tonight in his dark jeans and long-sleeved dark blue button-down shirt, his muscles filling out every square inch. He used to be on the skinny side, but strong. Judging from the way he fit the shirt, she could only imagine the muscles now.

He studied her and she wondered what he saw.

Country diva who couldn’t be bothered to come home once she’d left.

Ex-girlfriend who’d run and never returned.

Bad friend who hadn’t been here when her best friend had needed her most.

What else must he think of her?

Then again, she hadn’t created this mess alone, had she? She hadn’t been the one to climb into bed with Amanda and ruin what she and Ethan had.

And again, the question burned on the tip of her tongue, begging to be asked.

Why?

Ethan shifted, dragging the smoke of the past away and reminding her that she was a lousy hostess.

“Yeah, well, I should get Zoey home and into bed.”

Great job, Riley. “Sure.”

He put on his coat and turned to her. “Thank you again for the backstage passes.”

She wanted to tell him she hadn’t even known about the passes, that it had been Suzie’s doing. But what point would that serve, other than self protection?

“You’re welcome. Glad you came.”

“How much longer are you staying in town?”

She cocked a brow. “Anxious to get rid of me?”

His lips lifted. “No. No, that wasn’t it at all. I was just wondering if there was someplace you needed to be, with the holidays and all.”

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “No. I have to hang out here with a few of my people until this…thing is over with.”

“Thing?”

“Biography thing.”

“Oh. Yeah, right.”

She shrugged. “Not my idea. Honest. I’m a little young for a bio.”

“The television people seem to think otherwise.”

He was delaying leaving. She wondered why. “They said I’ve lived a lifetime in twenty-eight years, or some nonsense to that effect.”

“Haven’t you? You’ve gone through a lot to get where you are now.”

Was it her imagination, or was he drawing closer?

“Not really. I just got lucky.”

She found herself focusing on his lips, which was such a bad idea, because it got her thinking of how great a kisser he was, and how long it had been since she’d kissed him. And then she licked her lips, and his gaze traveled to her mouth and settled there.

“Luck had nothing to do with your success. Pure talent.”

She really wished he’d look somewhere other than her mouth, because now her throat went dry, and she had to swallow. And lick her lips again. She suddenly wanted to kiss him more than she wanted to breathe.

He took a step closer and reached for her.

“Daddy, I have to go potty.”

Riley took two steps back and so did Ethan, both of them turning to focus on a very sleepy-eyed Zoey, who sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Sure, muffin.”

“Where are we, Daddy?”

“In Riley’s dressing room.”

Zoey blinked, yawned and grinned at Riley. “Hi, Riley Jensen. You sing good.”

Riley laughed. “Thanks, sweetie.”

He took Zoey’s hand and she slid off the sofa.

“We’d better go find a bathroom, and then head home. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Bye, Zoey.”

Zoey waved. “Bye, Riley Jensen.”

Only after Ethan closed the door to the dressing room did Riley sink onto the sofa and exhale.

Ethan had almost kissed her. Even worse, Riley had really wanted him to.

She had to get the hell out of this town, and fast.

Chapter Five

“Have you seen the contract for the Lincoln project?” Tori asked him the next day.

“No.”

“It’s your project, Ethan. You were out yesterday having the contract signed.”

“I don’t know where it is. Maybe my truck.” He kept his focus on the blueprint he was studying, trying to tune out anything else but work.

“Well, do you think you could go get it so I could enter it into the system?”

“Later. I’m busy.”

He heard an audible sigh.

“Ethan, only Wyatt has the market cornered on brooding asshole.”

“Hey. I am here,” Wyatt grumbled from the corner of the office.

“So?” Tori replied. “It’s not like your attitude is a big secret. And Brody is a close second in the annoying-me-until-I-want-to-scream department.”

“I do my best,” Brody said, having made an appearance this morning.

“Shut up, Brody.” She turned her attention back to Ethan. “Ethan, you’re supposed to be the nice guy of the three brothers. If you turn cranky or irritating like these two, I might just have to start cracking some heads around here.”

He lifted his head and stared across the office at Tori. She tapped her pencil against the corner of her desk and gave him one of her trademark don’t-screw-with-me looks.

“You wouldn’t like her when she’s angry,” Brody teased.

“Shut. Up. Brody.” Tori’s jaw was clenched. It was clear she was reaching the boiling point.

“Sorry. Have a lot on my mind.” Ethan fished his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to her. “I’m pretty sure the contract is laying in the seat.”

She caught the keys and stood. “Thanks. And what made you so bitchy today?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. Not much sleep last night.”

“Oh, a date?” She stopped at his desk and leaned against it, obviously eager for some good gossip.

Too bad he had none for her. “No.”

The place went silent. Good. Until he felt eyes on him. He lifted his gaze and Tori was still there, leaning over his desk to give him her X-ray vision, as if she could see into his brain.

“What?”

“You know that’s not good enough.”

“And you’re not my mother.”

“And you know I’m going to continue to stare at you until you tell me where you were last night.”

Jesus, she was like a dog with a bone. “Why?”

“Because it obviously has something to do with your less-than-stellar mood today.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then you should have no problem telling us where you were last night.”

Shit.

“She’s got you now, Ethan,” Brody said, propping his feet up on his desk and no doubt grateful he wasn’t the one under Tori’s microscope this morning.

It was clear she wasn’t going to give up. “I went to Riley’s concert.”

Tori made a face and stood. “Glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

But Tori was already out the door.

Brody stood and came over to his desk, leaned against it and folded his arms. “What the hell possessed you to go to Riley’s concert?”

Ethan was already nose down in blueprints again. “Zoey likes her.”

“Uh huh. And you sat in the back row and sucked it up?”

“No. We had backstage passes.”

“Oh. Extra-strength pain and humiliation.”

“It wasn’t bad. It’s been ten years. She doesn’t hold a grudge.”

Wyatt snorted. “Bullshit. All women hold a grudge.”

“Yeah, and you don’t?” His brother held a deep grudge against his ex-wife, and it was affecting everything about his life.

Wyatt shrugged and took up his pencil again, effectively tuning them out.

Brody, unfortunately, didn’t. “Seriously, man, what’s up with you seeing Riley?”

“I’m not ‘seeing’ Riley. I took Zoey to her concert. Then I came home. Now I’m at work. Trying to work.” He motioned his head toward the blueprints.

“But you can’t deny there’s some serious history between you two. And unfinished business.”

“Brody’s right.” Tori came back in and shut the door to the office, laying the folder she’d retrieved on her desk. “You should settle it or you’ll end up a grumpy old man like Wyatt.”

“Again, I’m in the room,” Wyatt grumbled.

“Oh, like you care what we say about you, Wyatt,” Tori said as she took her seat and opened the folder. “You ignore us all anyway like you’ve been doing for the past two years. Go back to brooding. I’ll pick on you another day.”

Wyatt had no comment.

Maybe Ethan needed to try the silent approach in the future, because arguing with them was getting him nowhere. There was no business to finish with Riley.

***

“So they want to interview Ethan.”

Riley’s head shot up from the page where she’d been jotting down notes for a song and gaped at Joann.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“He’s part of your past, Riley. A big part. You’ve written like twenty-five songs about him.”

“And no one knows that but you and Suzie and the band, and you’re all sworn to secrecy. You promised.”

How had they found out about Ethan?

“The producers don’t know about the connection between Ethan and the songs. They just know he was your teenage boyfriend, which makes him a part of your past, a part they feel should be explored.”

“No. We talked about this. No Ethan.” She’d made it clear Amanda wouldn’t be interviewed, either, but of course that would never happen now. “I don’t want him or Zoey involved in this.”

Jo took a seat in the living room across from the roaring fire. The temperature had dropped and the skies were an ugly gray outside. Riley snuggled up in her sweats, Henley shirt and thick socks in front of the fire, intent on sipping hot cocoa and working on the song she’d started on the bus ride here. She’d spent part of the day lost in her music, happy to be alone and away from the production of the biography. When she wrote she could shut out everything, including what had almost happened between her and Ethan last night.

Except her songwriting had drifted into thoughts of first love and first kisses, and that’s not at all where she’d intended to go.

Instead, her idyllic moments of peace had been shattered by this. No way was she going to allow it.

“The thing is, Rye, Ethan has agreed to it.”

She laid her guitar to the side, letting it rest against the chair. “What?”

“They called him this afternoon and he agreed to the interview tomorrow as long as they promised to keep his daughter out of it, not mention her and make sure she stays off camera.”

“Oh, no. That’s not going to work at all.” She stood. “He absolutely cannot do the interview.”

Jo nodded. “I’ll get a staff member to contact the biographer, and then Ethan.”

“No. I don’t want this staffed out. I need to talk to Ethan myself.” She went into the kitchen and looked around. “Surely there has to be a phone book around here somewhere.”

One of her staff members grabbed it from the counter and handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

She flipped through the book and found Ethan’s name, dug in her purse for her cell and dialed Ethan’s home phone number.

“No answer.” Damn. “I’ll try his parents. They might know how I can reach him.”

She dialed his parents’ number, and his mother picked up. It had been years since she’d spoken to Mrs. Kent. A lump the size of her tour bus lodged in her throat.

“Mrs. Kent?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Riley Jensen.”

She waited for silence, for condemnation, for something other than the enthusiastic response she got.

“Riley, honey! I’m so glad to hear from you. Why haven’t you been by to see us yet? I’m so sorry we didn’t make it to greet you when you arrived the other day, but Roger’s knee is bad and I knew Ethan would be dropping Zoey off. And look at me talking your ear off and you haven’t had a chance to say a word yet.”