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remained unuttered.

      “Good choice,” he said with a brief nod. “You’re not going to win this one.”

      Margie felt Hunter’s hand on the small of her back as clearly as if it were a live electrical wire. Spears of heat as wild and unpredictable as lightning bolts kept shooting through her system, and it was all she could do to walk and talk despite the distractions.

      Main Street in Springville was waking up after a winter that had been cold and gray and bleak. Now in springtime, the sun shone out of a brilliantly blue sky, a cool wind danced down the street and bright bursts of flowers filled the planters at the feet of the street lamps. Colorful awnings stretched out over the sidewalk in front of the stores, and clusters of neighbors gathered together to chat.

      She loved this town. Had from the moment she’d first arrived two years before. It was like a postcard of small-town American life. A flag waved in the center of town square, moms with strollers sat on benches, laughing at toddlers wobbling around on the grass, and the scent of fresh bread baking drifted through the bakery’s open door.

      After growing up in Los Angeles, just one more face in an anonymous crowd, coming to Springville was like finding an old friend. She belonged here. She fit in. Or at least, she told herself with a sidelong glance at the man beside her, she used to.

      Now, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay once this month with Hunter was up. She’d have to leave this town, these people, even Simon, the grandfather she’d come to love. Because staying after the divorce would be impossible. She wouldn’t be able to stand the pitying looks from her friends. She wouldn’t be able to answer the questions everyone would have.

      And mostly, she wouldn’t be able to stay in the place where all of her lovely fantasies had died.

      “Still say we should have gone to the city,” Hunter murmured, then waved at someone across the street.

      Margie shook her head. She’d agreed, finally, to shopping, but had insisted that they do their buying in town. “You’re a Cabot,” she said for the third time. “You should support the local businesses.”

      “You make me sound like a king or something. What does being a Cabot have to do with where I shop?” His voice was low, but she had no trouble hearing him. In fact, Margie had the distinct feeling that she would always be able to concentrate easily on the deep rumble of his voice.

      In just twenty-four hours, she’d already become attuned to him. Oh, God. What a mess.

      She smiled and nodded at an older woman they passed on the sidewalk, then muttered, “Your family built this town. The headquarters of your business is here. You employ half the people who live here.”

      “Not me,” he insisted, “Simon.”

      “The Cabots,” she reminded him.

      “Oh, for—”

      “Hunter!”

      “Now what?” he muttered, stopping and draping one arm around Margie’s shoulder.

      They’d already been stopped countless times by people excited to see Hunter back home. The heavy weight of his arm on her felt both comforting and like a set of shackles, binding her to his side. And how was that possible? How could she feel desire for the very man who was making her life a misery?

      A young couple, James and Annie Drake, holding hands as they hurried up the sidewalk, grinned at Hunter and Margie as they approached. The man had brown hair and thick glasses, and his grin was reflected in his eyes. “Hi Margie. Hunter, it’s good to see you back.”

      “Good to be back, James,” he said, and the tone of his voice was almost convincing.

      Except that Margie knew he didn’t really want to be here. So who, she wondered, was acting now?

      “Annie, good to see you, too. How’re the kids?”

      “Oh, they’re fine,” the tall blond woman said, smiling at Margie. “Just ask your wife. She helped me ride herd on them during the last council meeting.”

      “It was no trouble,” Margie put in, remembering the three-year-old twins, who were like tiny tornadoes.

      “Is that right?” Hunter asked.

      “Don’t know what this town did without her,” Annie said. “She’s helped everyone so much. And she has so many amazing ideas!”

      Margie gave her friend a wan smile and wished Annie would be quiet. She could feel the tension in Hunter’s arm, and it was getting tighter.

      “Oh, now that I believe,” Hunter said with a squeeze of her shoulders. “She’s just full of surprises.”

      “Oh, yeah,” James added, “Margie’s a wonder.”

      “So I keep hearing.”

      Hunter’s arm around her shoulders tightened further, and Margie deliberately leaned into him, making his gesture seem more romantic than he meant it to be. The fact that the moment she was pressed to his side, heat spiraled through her system like an out-of-control wildfire was just something she’d have to keep to herself.

      “Well, we know you’re busy,” James was saying. “We just spotted you and wanted to thank you personally for everything you’re doing for the town. Folks really appreciate it.”

      “Yeah,” Hunter said thoughtfully. “About that…”

      Was he going to admit to these nice people that he hadn’t had a thing to do with making their lives better? Would he tell them that Margie had been making up his involvement?

      Annie interrupted him. “Just having the new day care center at Cabot headquarters has been a godsend,” she said, slapping one hand to the center of her chest as if taking an oath. “Margie told all of us how important you felt it was that the mothers who worked for you be able to leave their kids in a safe place. Somewhere close where the moms could work and still be close to their children.”

      “Did she?”

      Margie felt Hunter’s gaze on her but didn’t turn her head up to look at him, afraid she’d see anger or disgust or impatience in those cool blue eyes of his.

      Tears swamped Annie’s eyes, but she blinked them away with a laugh. “God, look at me. Getting all teary over this! It just means a lot to all of us, Hunter. I mean, I need the job, but having the kids nearby makes working so much easier on me.”

      “Good,” he murmured. “That’s real good, Annie, but the thing is…”

      “See, honey,” Margie said quickly, determined to stop Hunter before he could disavow himself of everything these people were feeling. “I told you, everyone in town is so pleased that you’re taking an active interest in Springville.”

      “She’s right about that,” James said. “Why, the newly redone Little League field and all of the flowers planted along Main Street…” He stopped and shook his head. “Well, it just means something to know that the Cabots are still attached to the town they built, that’s all.”

      “Hunter’s happy to do it,” Margie told them, smiling and leaning even harder into her husband’s side.

      “We just wanted to thank you in person,” James said, tugging his wife’s hand. “Now, we’ve got to run. Annie’s mom is watching our two little monsters, and she’s probably ready to tear her hair out by now.” Nodding, he said, “It really is good to see you, Hunter.”

      “Right. Thanks.” Hunter stood stock-still on the sidewalk as the happy couple hurried off, and Margie felt the tension in him through the heavy arm he kept firmly around her shoulders.

      “Well,” Margie said softly, trying—and failing—to peel herself off Hunter, “I suppose we’d better go on to Carla’s Dress Shop now.”

      “In a minute,” Hunter said, tightening his arm around her until she could

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