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The timer on the oven sounded, and for a split second, Sawyer thought his phone was ringing. They both hopped up at the same time.

“Breakfast is ready. I’ll get the plates if you’ll make the toast,” she said.

“Why? Do you burn toast? I’m not surprised that someone as hot as you can burn bread by touching it,” he flirted.

She slapped at his arm, deliberately missing. “That’s a pickup line. Not a bad one, either. How many women have heard that?”

“Well, there was Delilah, Gloria, Letitia, Julie, Darcy, should I go on? I’m not sure I can recollect how many women have burned bread for me.”

Jill pushed him into the kitchen. “Well, scalding-hot cowboy, get on in there, and let’s see if you can burn toast.”

* * *

He had asked about pork rinds and Chicken Chips, and Jill had managed to dodge that bullet by changing the subject. But now he was probably thinking of all those tall, beautiful blonds and brunettes he’d dated and wishing that he was having breakfast with them instead of a spitfire redhead that had admitted she had been scared shitless.

That’s what friends do. They tell each other how they feel, she thought, hoping it might quiet the voice in her head before it ever got started. But the voice had to throw its two cents into the ring. Youwentpastthefriendstagethefirsttimehekissedyou. Deal with it. You are attracted to him, and he’s definitely been flirting, she argued. ButSawyercouldhaveanywomananywhere. Right now he could move to Wild Horse or River Bend, ranch to his heart’s content, and have anything he wants. They are both beautiful women, and, dammit, I’m working myself up into a jealous rage.

The irritating voice didn’t have a comeback, which aggravated Jill even more. She pulled the oven omelet out and set it on a hot pad in the middle of the table, put out plates and silverware, and refilled their coffee cups.

Sawyer winked at her when the second round of toast popped up. “I must have lost my power. It’s perfectly browned, not burnt. Hey, you mentioned retail therapy yesterday. Have you ever ordered flowers online?”

Dammit to hell and back on a rusty old poker. He’d decided to send flowers to one of those hot women of his past.

“Yes, I have. I send them to my mom in Kentucky all the time,” she said. “It’s easy peasy. You key in your credit card numbers after you pick out what you want, tell them the date you need it delivered, and hit send.”

Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry and even the coffee tasted horrible.

“Can they even get flowers to Comfort, Texas?” he asked. “That’s pretty far back in the woods.”

His old flame was about to get a second chance.

“Don’t know the logistics of the whole business, but they get them there when they say they will. I expect they pick out the nearest florist, and believe me, for the price you pay, they can afford to cough up the delivery fee.”

He set the plate of toast on the table and hurried to his room, returning with a laptop. “Okay, show me the place you use.”

He’d already gotten online, so she went straight for the site, and he picked out the biggest bouquet of red roses offered, typed in all the information, and hit the “send” button. “Wow, that is fantastic. My sister is going to be so surprised when they arrive at her house in a couple of hours.”

“Your sister?” Jill spit out.

“Today is her birthday. Let’s eat before it gets cold. I’m starving, and there’s chores waiting for us to do.” He dipped deeply into the egg casserole and picked up two pieces of toast. “It’s already buttered, and there’s apple butter and grape jam in the fridge if you want it. As for me, I’m planning on a second helping of this scrumptious-lookin’ casserole rather than having extra toast with jelly.”

Sawyer’s sister and Jill were two happy women.

“So is your sister younger than you?”

Sawyer shook his head, swallowed, and sipped his coffee. “Oh, no. She’s the oldest of four, and bossed us boys around like she was the Queen of Sheba. She was twelve when I was born, so she thought she had as much power over me as Mama. She still likes to boss me, since I’m the only single one left in the family. And believe me, if I forgot her birthday, the sun would fall from the sky.”

“Her name?”

“Martina, and my brothers are Hugh and Kevin. Mama is Latino. Daddy is Irish. They made an agreement that Mama could name the girls with names from her heritage, and Daddy could give the boys Irish names.”

“And Sawyer is Irish?”

He grinned. “No, it’s English. If Daddy hadn’t loved his daughter so much, I would probably be Seamus, or maybe Tomas, but Martina cried when I wasn’t a baby sister. Mama had been reading Tom Sawyer to the kids, and if Martina couldn’t have a sister, then she wanted a brother named Sawyer. Daddy tried to talk her into Tom, but she’d have no part of it. So he gave in to her tears, and I’m Sawyer.”

“It fits better than Seamus or Tom,” Jill said.

“Well, thank you for that and for this delicious breakfast. You think we should call a babysitter for Piggy and Chick, or can they stay by themselves until we come back from chores?”

Jill looked at the sleeping kittens. “They’ll grow up fast. We’ll have to make a medical decision, Sawyer. Do we have them spayed or let them have kittens?”

“We can decide that later. Right now, let them be babies,” he answered.

* * *

It had been a slow afternoon at the store, and both Sawyer and Jill wished for the kittens to entertain them. He propped his feet on the counter, dropped his cowboy hat down over his eyes, and started to snore. She sat on the counter, back to the cash register, and went through emails from her mother and her best friend back in Kentucky. She replied and told them both all about the kittens and what they’d named them. She didn’t mention, nor did she intend to tell them, about the kidnapping business.

Her phone rang immediately, and she fished it out of her purse and headed to the back so the conversation wouldn’t wake Sawyer.

“Okay, young lady, talk. I can always tell more from your voice than those sterile emails. Two cowboys brought you kittens?” her mother, Barbara, asked.

“It’s two of the three that kissed me that day,” Jill said.

“The other one did not bring you a kitten. What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s smarter and does less to irritate me than the other two.”

“Please tell me you aren’t going to stay in Burnt Boot permanently. Those people in that part of Texas are crazy. Gladys and Polly should act their age and sell all that property to the highest bidder. They are not spring chickens anymore, and it’s time for them to retire,” Barbara said.

“I think that’s what they’re trying to do.”

Jill got a long martyred sigh for her answer.

“I don’t mean retire and put you in charge. Dammit! Jill!”

“It’s okay, Mama. I can take care of myself.” Jill went on to tell her more about the feud and the way things were happening, leaving out the part about Sawyer’s kisses and how they affected her. “And now I have a customer, so I have to go. You should come see me in Burnt Boot.”

“No, thank you. You come see me, and we’ll go up to Lexington and spend the day in the spa, stay overnight, and shop until we drop.”

“We’ll talk about it later. Got to go,” Jill said.

“Tell your aunts hello for me. I can’t believe you’re living in that backwater place, but you’ve always been strong willed and liked boots better than high heels.” Barbara’s tone was scolding as she ended the call.

“What customer?” Sawyer asked.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Jill asked.

Sawyer shook his head slowly. “But I could hear her all the way over here. I didn’t know she was that much against your being here,” he said. “Now where’s the customer?”