The sisters looked at each other, then back at her.

Dakota spoke first. “It’s okay, Mom. None of us were telling you to marry Max.”

Denise returned her attention to the sink. After rinsing it, she attacked the counters. “Good, because I’m not going to. I was married to your father. He was my husband, and that’s not going to change.”

“I don’t understand,” Nevada admitted. “Why are you acting as if we’re all insisting you accept Max’s proposal? Why does anything have to change?”

“He won’t understand,” Denise said, moving to the cooktop and removing burners. “He’ll be upset.”

“Max?” Montana asked.

“Yes. I don’t want that.”

“You think he’ll be happier with you moving out of town?” Dakota asked softly.

Denise dropped the sponge and seemed to crumple in on herself. She returned to the sink, peeled off her purple gloves, then started to cry.

“I can’t do this,” she sobbed. “I’m too old to fall in love again. Or re-in love.”

Her daughters moved in and surrounded her. Nevada wasn’t sure if she was being especially stupid today, because she didn’t understand the crisis.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Denise said between wiping her face and blowing her nose on a tissue she’d pulled out of her jeans pocket. “That I’m not being a very good role model. That I always said to be strong and stand up to your problems. You think I don’t want to be like that? Sometimes it’s hard, but I had to say those things because that’s what mothers do.”

“Okay, you’ve moved from upset to talking crazy,” Nevada told her, taking her hand and leading her into the family room. She set her mother on the sofa, then settled next to her. Dakota took the other side, while Montana sat on the coffee table, facing her.

“Mom, you’re wrong,” Nevada told her. “You don’t have to move away from where you live because a man proposed.”

Denise’s eyes filled with more tears. “What am I supposed to say?”

“I’d start with the truth,” Dakota told her. “That you care about him but you don’t want to get married. You want to keep seeing him, right?”

Denise nodded.

“Say that. If he doesn’t appreciate your honesty, then let him move.”

“Hey,” Montana snapped. “My boss, my job.”

“Sorry.”

Nevada rubbed her mother’s arm. “Dakota’s right. Just because he proposes doesn’t mean you have to say yes. And refusing doesn’t mean everything is over. Maybe he thinks you’re the one who wants to be married. You do seem like the type.”

Denise sniffed. “Traditional? I always have been. But this is different. I do love Max, but I don’t want to get married again. I promised myself that when Ralph died. I love Ralph and I love Max. Max will always be my first love. I want Ralph to always be my husband.”

“So, tell him,” Montana said. “I know Max cares about you, Mom. He doesn’t want to upset you. What you’re describing is wonderful. You want each of the men you loved to have a special place. That’s great. I think Nevada’s right. He was proposing as much for you as for himself. Do you really think he would risk losing you over an engagement?”

“Maybe not,” Denise said slowly. “I just panicked.”

“Makes sense,” Dakota told her. “Talk to Max. Explain how you feel. I suspect what he wants is your love.”

“All right. You have a point. He’s never been especially interested in following the rules. Maybe that’s what surprised me so much.” She sniffed again, then smiled. “You are wonderful daughters. I don’t say that enough.”

“You could stitch something on a pillow,” Montana offered.

Denise laughed, then hugged each of them. “Thank you for rescuing me,” she said.

“You’ve rescued us each bunches of times,” Nevada reminded her. “We’re happy to help.”

“Thank you. All right. Enough of my crisis. I’ll talk to Max later and if he reacts badly, I’ll have another breakdown. But for now I’m fine.” She smiled. “I don’t suppose any of you wants to share something that will distract me from worrying.”

Dakota and Montana glanced at each other.

“We could talk about the wedding,” Dakota offered. “We’ve picked the date.”

Denise’s breath caught. “You have? When?”

“New Year’s Eve,” Montana said with a grin. “It’s a Saturday, which is perfect. I don’t know why, but the Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort had a recent cancellation on their main ballroom, so it’s available.”

Denise bounced on the sofa. “It is? Did you reserve it?”

Dakota and Montana both laughed.

“We did,” Dakota admitted. “Right away. It’s so perfect. We went to see it a couple of days ago and it’s beautiful. We’re thinking night with lots of twinkle lights.”

Nevada forced herself to smile and nod, as if she were thrilled with the news. Not that she wasn’t happy for her sisters. Of course she wanted them both to have the perfect wedding. But somehow knowing they were getting married on the same day made her feel kind of funny inside. As if somehow she’d missed out on something big.

Montana turned to her. “Are you okay with this?”

“Sure,” Nevada said. “It sounds perfect. You’re really lucky to have a cancellation only a few months out. You’ll be able to have a big dinner and dancing. It’s going to be so much fun.”

Dakota studied her for a second, as if making sure she was telling the truth. Nevada held her gaze, willing herself to look as normal and happy as possible.

“It’s fine,” she promised.

Dakota nodded, because when had Nevada ever lied to her sister before?

NEVADA RETURNED to the construction site in the early afternoon. She’d filed permits with the city, confirmed the blast dates and stopped by to see her nephew Reese and his exuberant dog, Fluffy, but nothing seemed to lift her mood. She wasn’t upset or sad or even confused. She was restless. It felt as if something important was about to happen. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on her part.

She was supposed to spend the afternoon doing paperwork, one of her least favorite things. Maybe she should put it off and go dig out tree stumps with big equipment. That always made her feel better.

She walked into the trailer, intent on grabbing her hard hat and heading out. Tucker was inside, pulling something from one of the file cabinets.

“Hey,” he said absently, paying more attention to the papers in his hand than her. “Everything okay with your mom?”

His dark good looks caught her off guard. As if she’d just this second realized how masculine he looked with his strong jaw and broad shoulders. He wore the usual construction uniform—jeans, work boots and a long-sleeved shirt. Not elegant clothes, but the look suited him.

Her gaze roamed over him, settling on his mouth. The mouth that knew exactly what to do to hers. The mouth that made her feel desire and wanting for the first time in forever.

Suddenly she knew why she was restless and what would make her feel better. Unfortunately, Tucker had just changed all the rules.

Fine, she told herself, walking toward him. She would change them back.

He glanced up as she approached. She didn’t give him time to figure out her plan. As she got closer, she pulled the paper from his fingers and dropped it to the floor, then put her hands on his shoulders, raised herself onto her toes and kissed him.

She moved her mouth against his, at the same time sliding her hands down his back and shifting her body close enough to press against him. There was a split second when he didn’t react, when she knew he could pull away, leaving her feeling more than a little stupid. A consequence she would accept if she had to, she thought.

He stiffened. She felt the stillness in his body, the indecision, then he groaned and surged against her, wrapping his arms around her and pushing his tongue into her mouth.

Passion exploded. His hands were everywhere, her hips, her back, her breasts. He cupped her curves, then rubbed his thumbs against her already tight nipples. She moaned as ribbons of need twisted through her. Heat and dampness surged between her legs.

She cupped his face in her hands, kissing him back, circling his tongue with hers. They danced and moved, the fire everywhere. She rubbed her palms against his chest before starting to unbutton his shirt. He pulled her long-sleeved T-shirt off, then unfastened her bra in a matter of seconds. Before she could register what he’d done, his mouth closed around her right nipple.

The combination of warmth, dampness and lips was nearly too much. Her thighs began to tremble. He moved to her other breast, sucking deeply, rhythmically. The pulling sensation shot down to her belly, then lower, making that most feminine part of her ache with longing.

He drew back and walked to the door, where he turned the lock. From there he crossed to Will’s desk and began tearing open drawers.

“Where are they?” he muttered. He swore, pulled open another drawer. “Yes!”

He held up a condom.

“Fascinating office supplies,” she said as she pulled off her boots.

“He keeps them around for the guys, more as a joke than anything else.”

“I’ve always liked Will.”

She finished with her boots and socks. Tucker headed back toward her, pulling off his shirt as he went.

She gave herself a second to enjoy the view—the sculpted muscles and narrow waist, the erection jutting against his jeans. Then he was undoing the button on her pants and pulling down the zipper. She found herself a whole lot less interested in how things looked rather than in how things felt.

He wrapped one arm around her and pressed his mouth to hers. As he kissed her into a quivering mass, he slipped one hand between her bikini panties and her hip, then moved his hand slowly, oh so slowly around. At last he eased his fingers between her thighs.

She’d been wet and swollen since the first kiss. Now she held in a groan as he explored her, sliding his fingers against slick flesh, finding that one spot and circling it slowly before brushing over it.

Heat burned down to her toes. She had to stop kissing him, had to stop even breathing so she could focus on the brush of his fingers. Back and forth, over and over. The trembling in her legs increased. She could barely stay standing.

In a matter of seconds, she was inches from coming. She gritted her teeth, then pushed him back.

“Naked,” she demanded. “Now.”

He obliged by pushing down his jeans and boxers. She pulled off her clothes, then shifted onto the table behind her. He put on the condom, then joined her.

She reached between them, guiding him inside of her. He was thick and long and filled her until she gasped with the pleasure of it. Every nerve ending cheered. Deep inside, she felt the tension start to increase again.

“This isn’t going to go well,” he groaned, pulling out and thrusting in again. “Dammit, Nevada.”

Despite the building tension, despite the threatening release, she laughed. “It’s not my fault.”

“Sure it is. You feel too good.”

He pumped in again. At the same time he cupped her br**sts in his hands. His forefinger and thumb caressed her nipples. The sensations were amazing, perfect. Just enough.

“Go for it,” she told him, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Just go for it.”

He hesitated for a second. She pulled him in with her thighs and he sank in as far as he could.

“Like that,” she breathed.

He took her at her word and moved faster, deeper. She gave herself up to the rhythm and over to the man. He dropped his hands to the desk for leverage. Again and again he filled her, stroking her so deliciously that she let her head fall back and rode the inevitable wave.

Her orgasm hit with the subtlety of a freight train. One second she was enjoying the ride, the next every muscle contracted and released. She clung to him, crying out her pleasure. More, she thought frantically. More and more and more.

He kept going. Thrusting, filling, carrying her on until the last of her contractions eased and she could breathe again. Then he groaned her name, pushed in one more time and was still.

She could feel the frantic beating of his heart and knew hers pounded just as hard. Their breath came in pants. Muscles spasmed. From outside, she heard the low rumble of heavy equipment.

She looked up and met his bemused expression.

“I thought we weren’t going to do that,” he told her.

“We weren’t.”

“That was the best not doing it I’ve ever had.”

She laughed. “Me, too.”

She supposed the awkward bits would come later—when she’d had a chance to think about what they’d done and wallow in the consequences. But for now there was only the hum of satisfaction and a pleasant relaxed sensation.

He kissed her once, then withdrew. They dressed, handing each other items of clothing. As she reached for her boots, he grabbed her and kissed her again. She went into his arms. Somewhere outside a vehicle pulled up close to the trailer.

Tucker swore and glanced toward the sound. “Rain check?” he asked.

She nodded.

They finished dressing, then unlocked the trailer door. She opened it and stepped outside.

A long, black limo had parked by the trailer. The driver got out and walked around to the rear passenger door.

Tucker moved next to her. “Someone from town?” he asked.

“Fool’s Gold isn’t much of a limo place,” she said, curious as to who would arrive with so much fanfare.