Flynn waited until Zoya left for work before he came from his room. Last night, he'd told Roman and Ophelia not to say anything to her about extending their visit. From the way she'd acted when he asked about Mariana, he got the idea Zoya knew about the summer fling he and Mariana had years ago. The word stopped him. Was that all it had been? No. It'd been much more, but the timing had been wrong.

He'd had a full scholarship and a long distance relationship wasn't feasible. The thing he regretted most was he'd not explained that. But he'd tried. Every time he'd visited Arcadia, but somehow Mariana was always out of town. He thought for sure he'd see her at Charamel's funeral, but again, she'd been a no-show. She probably hated him and he couldn't blame her. Back then, he'd not had enough experience to handle the situation, but he did now and hoped to make things right.

He smiled. Funny how'd he'd accepted that in the last few days. Roman had assured him it would all work out. He hoped his step brother was right, but given his own track record, it might take a while. Roman's life was finally good, but he'd gone through hell to get here. Flynn would like to avoid that route if possible.

A bee buzzed around his head and brought him back to the route he was currently following. Even as a boy, walking through these woods calmed him. The cool morning air. Sunlight winking through the trees. The sounds of the forest. Man, how he wished to go back to those carefree days if only for a little while.

His social calendar, planned by Céline, exhausted him. Last month, he'd attended opening night of the ballet, an animal lovers' black-tie event, student museum fashion show, cancer foundation fundraiser, along with ten other worthy causes. The more he got involved, the more he realized he didn't belong in her circle.

Mariana's workshop came into view. He'd played this scene out in his head a thousand times, but now his stomach knotted. Who was he kidding? With her beauty and fiery spirit, she'd probably had a dozen lovers since him. No way would she'd still be carrying a torch or a grudge.

He swung the door wide. She looked up, and her breath caught. The same sound she'd always made years ago, right before she came apart in his arms. God. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Hey, Mariana." He had hoped for nonchalant, but came out as a pre-pubescent squeak.

"Flynn. What are you doing here?" She wouldn't meet his eye, determined to appear as unaffected as she sounded, despite the sound of rushing water in her ears.

She was busy mixing something in a bowl. Bottles of different sizes lined the counter. Since Zoya had mentioned a goat milk venture, he figured they had to do with that. The place smelled like lavender and something else. Coconut. Not the Mariana he'd remembered, who was always smelled like gasoline or fancy leather in a new car.

From what he heard, the soap thing was to raise money for her own garage. It irked him girls like Mariana worked every day of their lives for something they wanted, all fire and clenched teeth to get ahead, whereas Céline and her ilk had everything handed to them and worked for nothing.  "Ophelia and I came to visit Roman."

Her eyes darkened, and she swallowed hard. "I know that. I meant what are you doing here?"

The tone of her voice warned him he wasn't welcome. But he couldn't let that change his plans. "I wanted to see you."

"After all these years? Why?"

He swallowed. This was harder than he imagined. "Lately, I've been thinking about you, and I..."

She cut him off. "Why in the world would you do that when you thought so little of me before?"

She was right; it sounded lame even to his own ears. He advanced on her and she held her ground. No longer a fragile, innocent girl, she glared at him. Maybe he wasn't the only guy who'd hurt her. "That isn't true. I've always thought about you."

She stopped mixing and held the spatula in midair. "What do you want from me, Flynn? Forgiveness? Absolution? Letting me believe I meant something to you? Breaking my heart?" She dropped the spatula, pushed her hand in front of him, and made the sign of the cross. Definitely not Mariana, who treated religion like a bad taste in her mouth, even though every Sunday when they were kids, she had always sat in the third row from the pew with her parents. "You're absolved. Go on with your life."

He reached out to take her hand, but she backed away.

"You did mean something to me." His voice broke, and he swallowed, trying to conjure up sufficient words. Falling short.

That got a humorless laugh from her. "Once a liar, always a liar. You should leave. I have someone in my life now and if he finds you here, I'll have to explain more than I want." She turned her back to Flynn and moved pans around on the shelf.

Albeit defeated, he plowed on. "Well, if you're so in love, why are you still pissed at me? What happened between us shouldn't matter anymore."

She spun on him, tears flowed down her cheeks. "I loved you, you idiot! You were my first love! My first everything! A girl never gets over that." She swiped at her nose, then covered her face with her hands.

Flynn rushed around the counter and took her in his arms.

She shoved him, glaring up at him like a vengeful goddess with ice in her eyes. "Oh, I understand. Thought you'd get a little stray before you tie the knot? And who else better than me, right?" She snarled,"The poor ones are always so easy."

He crossed his arms. "That's not fair. I never thought of you that way. What did you want from me?  I was eighteen years old." God, he'd said it like that fixed everything but from the way she was shaking with rage, it didn't.

"What'd I want? A phone call. Text. Letter. Anything that made me feel like I mattered. I waited, Flynn. Weeks. Months. You used me and then pretended it never happened."

He took another step forward, but she backed away again.  To fight the urge to hold her, he put his hands in his pockets. "You mattered. It's just I was at school. You were here. Living five hours away, I didn't see how we could..."

"How we could what? Keep screwing? Yeah, you're right. That was impossible which made it clear that's all you wanted from me. Do you get the picture now? You made me feel like nothing more than a good time." Her eyes were glassy, but her voice unwavering. It had always been easy. Her eyes always gave away her emotions, even when her voice was full of anger.

He couldn't fight it any longer. He pulled his hands from his pockets and wrapped her in his arms. The memory of her beneath him flooded back with such force, he thought his heart would explode. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She broke free and glared at him with so much hate in her eyes now, he staggered backwards. Her words dripped with venom. "Go home, Flynn. There's nothing for you here." She pushed past him and slammed the door behind her.

He stood frozen trying to decide what his next move should be. This wasn't going the way he expected. God, he'd hurt her more than he thought. She was right. He'd not spoken to her after he left that summer. But what good would it have done? They couldn't see each other and he couldn't ask her to wait for him. He didn't get it. Why would she still be so angry after all this time?

Heaving a deep breath, he stepped out into the sunshine and headed home, kicking the dirt as he went. When he got back to the farmhouse, he found Roman in the laundry room.

"Where'd you run off to so early?" Nonchalant, as if he really didn't care, but Flynn knew better.

"Mariana's." He shrugged, passive.

Roman's eyebrows shot into is hairline. "Really?"

"Yeah. A long time ago, she and I had a thing."

Roman finished stuffing the clothes in the washer, added the detergent, and closed the lid. "No shit. Where was I when this thing was going on?"

"It was the summer your trouble started."

"She have anything to do with your change of heart about Céline?"

Flynn raked his hands through his hair. "Didn't think so until today. Now, I'm not so sure. Doesn't matter. She made it pretty clear she hates my guts."

"Why?"

"After I left, I never called her."

"So, you're just saying to hell with it?"

"I guess. What I don't understand is why she's still mad. She's serious about some guy, so what went on between us shouldn't matter."

"I thought you were leaving today." Zoya said from behind them.

"Decided to stay a little longer."

Roman straightened. Flynn wondered if either of them realized how they gravitated toward another when inhabiting the same space.  "Hey, what are doing home so early?"

"No bodies."

Flynn eyed her, then moved away from the door.

Roman walked to stand next to her and spoke to Flynn again. "I don't think Mariana's serious about the guy. She told me he'd proposed, but she hasn't accepted. Unless you saw an engagement ring, she still hasn't, and that's been weeks ago."

Flynn glanced at Roman, then back at Zoya. "Well, why did she say that?"

Zoya swallowed hard. "I don't know."

Flynn narrowed his gaze. "I think you do. So what's up?"

She fiddled with her hair, pushing a curly strand behind her ear. "Maybe to get rid of you."

Roman nodded. "Makes sense. If you think she's involved no need for you to see her again."

"I probably shouldn't, anyway."

"No!"

Flynn jerked his head toward Zoya's outburst. "Why not?"

She shrugged. "I mean, if you like her, you shouldn't give up."

He wasn't convinced, and eyed her with conviction. She knew more than she was letting on.

"I appreciate the encouragement, but she said she never wanted to see me again. Practically threw me out. Can't go back now, anyway. She was going to work."

"You should go there. To her work. At the quick mart. If you're a customer, she can't make you leave. She works until midnight. Did you tell her you weren't getting married?"

"No. I was so shocked by her reaction to seeing me. I didn't really get the chance."

"You should tell her. And if you still like her, tell her that, too."

Before Flynn could say anything else, Zoya turned and disappeared down the hall.

He looked at Roman. "What do you think?"

Roman's phone chimed. He read the text, then smiled at Flynn. "I'm needed in the bedroom."

Flynn shook his head. "You remember the lecture you gave me about hurting Zoya. You're on dangerous ground."

Roman laid his hand on Flynn's shoulder. "There's a reason why they name hurricanes primarily after women.  She understands our relationship. I made sure of that before I brought her back home." He strolled away.

Flynn went out to the back porch and slumped onto the chaise and tried to sort things out in his head. It was stupid for Mariana to be angry... unless... she still had feelings for him. She'd cried. Girls didn't cry over men they hated, did they? They screamed. Cursed. Threw shit. Her reaction had been as if their thing had just ended. Hell, it'd been seven years. Maybe she'd gone crazy, and that's why she was still single—but it was Mariana, throwing things and starting a fire in the science lab in high school was her thing, and it was endearing.

Whatever it was, he planned to find out.

Fishing keys out of his pocket, he quietly closed the door behind him and walked to his truck. Zoya was right. Mariana couldn't kick out a paying customer, so that's what he'd be.

Even after an hour at work, Mariana's stomach hurt. Why was Flynn still here? And why did he come to see her? Stupid. He wanted one last fling before giving up his freedom. She took a deep breath. As much as she loved him, she'd never let that happen.

She should tell him about Tommy. But after what Zoya said about Céline, Mariana couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet. She'd fantasized about Flynn spending time with his son, but according to Zoya, his new wife would be against it. She'd hire a nanny to take care of Tommy while she and Flynn socialized. So what would be the point? Child support? Sure. She could get money out of him, but that wasn't important to her. She had been taking care of Tommy his entire life, she didn't need anyone else's help.

Who was she kidding? She'd dreamed of the three of them together. A family. She was stupid and needed to stop torturing herself. After how she'd treated Flynn, he should be gone by now and her secret was safe for a while longer.

She turned her attention back to the candy rack she was refilling and thought of more logical things. Like contacting more businesses about her soap line. Another order had arrived from a boutique in New Orleans, so that was encouraging. The Facebook page was paying off. But she had to give credit to Zoya. The wrappers she'd designed were real eye-catchers.

Mariana discarded the empty box and opened the next one. Since the festival was over, the town was dead. If business continued to be slow, she'd get all the stocking done and time would fly. She loved when that happened. The doorbell buzzed and her dream was short-lived. She pushed the carton aside and called over her shoulder. "Come in."

The customer went down the next aisle so Mariana tossed the empty box into the storeroom behind the register. When she turned around, Flynn stood at the counter. He handed her a family-size bag of chips and a jar of salsa.

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she struggled to get the words out. "Will this be all for you, sir?"

"I believe so." He pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

She rang the sale and bagged it. "That'll be $7.33." Short, clipped, indignant.

He slid a ten-dollar bill to her.

Instead of handing him the change, she placed it on the counter. "Thank you."

He turned to go, then hesitated. "You know what? I should get something to drink with this."

He left the purchases, went to the refrigerated case and returned with a soda.

"Will this be all for you, sir?" And there was that damn smile again. She'd almost forgotten how fucking infuriating he could be, especially when he had his mind set on something.

"I think so."

She put the money in the register. "Thanks."

Again, he started but stopped. He puckered his lips and cocked his head. "On second thought, I might want something sweet after I eat this." He disappeared around the corner and came back with two candy bars.

"Will this be all, sir?" She fixed him with a pointed stare, showing him just how annoying she found him.

"Not sure. Let me think a minute." He folded his arms across his chest, looked up, and tapped his foot.

Mariana froze in place. She didn't need this aggravation. "Milk, bread, eggs?"

He shook his head.

"Cereal, butter, cheese?"

"No."

"Athlete's foot powder, hemorrhoid suppositories?"

That got a laugh from him, and God, how she'd always loved his laugh.

"Now, we're talking."

She fought a smile. "What does that mean?"

"It means we're talking, and that's what I want. For us to talk. Without anger. Without hate. Can we do that?"

"I never said I hated you." Her stomach growled, and she didn't know if it was from hunger or misery.

"Good to know because from our earlier conversation, I would have sworn you did."

"Well, I don't. So you can go home now." If she shoved the bag a bit too roughly into his arms, well...

"Okay." He gathered his bags and left.

Mariana placed her hands on the counter and hung her head. No, Flynn. I don't hate you. I hate myself because I'm still in love with you. She walked to the windows and found the parking lot empty. Thank God. Then she went back to work.

For the next few hours, her mind ping-ponged between her soap business and Flynn, with him winning most of the time. She wanted to hate him, but couldn't. It had taken every ounce of willpower not to jump over the counter, throw him to the floor, and rip off his clothes. She took a deep breath. She'd sunk to a new low. Lusting for a man about to be married, one who broke her heart. He belonged to someone else, and she needed to accept that.

Someday she'd tell him about Tommy, but not now. It'd be wrong to hit him with that news just months away from starting his life with Céline. What kind of fucking name was that, anyway?

At eleven-thirty, the owner, Mr. Wallace, showed up to help Mariana close. She checked the register and took out the trash. When he came back inside, he joined her at the counter.

"Slow tonight, huh?"

She studied the detail tape, then wrapped it around the bundle of twenty-dollar bills. "Real slow. Only thirty-one customers all night."

"People are still recovering from the festival. It'll pick up again in a day or two. Why don't you go on home? I'll lock up."

"Okay. See you tomorrow night." Mariana grabbed her purse from the back room, then headed to her car, parked behind the building. When she rounded the corner, Flynn leaned against her fender. Her heart hammered.

"I noticed you have a flat, so thought I'd offer you a ride home."

She jerked her head toward the Chevy. Dad had been after her for months to get new tires. She should have listened. If it had been an engine problem, she could have fixed it herself. "That's okay. I'll call Lemon."

"She and Ophelia are out somewhere. Besides, I'm already here. Makes no sense to call someone. Just get in the truck. I'll have you home safe and sound in no time."

She heaved a deep breath, but only filled her lungs half-full. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't." She crossed her arms over her chest. He recognized her defensive stance when he saw it.

"Have it your way, then." He walked to his vehicle, tossing his keys in the air, whistling. He waited for the inevitable conclusion. Mariana was as stubborn as a mule sometimes, but she was very, very impatient.

"Okay! You're right. It's just a ride. Right?" Oh, God. Don't grin. Don't grin. Don't grin. Shit. His lips curled into the most delicious smile and her knees weakened. She ran her hand along the hood to steady herself, then opened the door and crawled inside.

He backed out of the parking lot, pulled forward, then stopped. "You hungry?"

"No." Her stomach betrayed her and growled again. She huffed at the betrayal.

He chuckled. "I think you are. Whataburger is still open. Let's swing by there."

"That isn't necessary. I can get something at home. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

He turned onto the highway. "Come on, Mariana. I'm leaving tomorrow. Spend a little time with me."

"Why?" She side-eyed him warily.

"Because we have unfinished business."

Poor Mariana, she's in trouble.

TEASER: "Not until I find out."

Who, and about what? Ba ba bummmmm. Okay, that was overly dramatic.