Silbie snuggled deeper into the down mattress as she tried to hold on to the erotic dream. Owen's hands glided over her body, leaving a trail of heat and desire. His lips brushed hers, then followed a path to her cheek. Ear. Throat. Her breath quickened with arousal.

She clutched his shoulders, urging him lower, and as he licked the spot just above her navel, she startled awake. Gasping for breath, she surveyed her surroundings half expecting to see him beside her, then groaned her disappointment. A derby trophy glinted from the dresser across from her bed, reminding her where she was. She was back in Parkers Prairie.

"Silbie?" Mom called. "Are you all right?"

"I'm okay. Come in."

She walked to Silbie's bed, sat on the edge, and rubbed her arm. "You sure? You were moaning."

Silbie grabbed pillows and pushed them behind her back, willing her face not to heat up. "I must have been dreaming. Probably an action scene from the movie." A better explanation than saying Owen was about to go down on her. Certain body parts tingled. Clenched. Stiffened.  She clutched the cover and pulled it tight against her chest.

"I can't take it anymore, mom. What's going on? I got in too late last night to talk, but when you called, I heard something in your voice. Are you upset about the rumors? Because that's all they are. Rumors. I'm not dating my co-star. It's a publicity stunt. Jo says it'll help the movie."

She shook her head. "No. I don't believe any of the stuff I hear or read. I know you'd tell me if you have a new love interest." She wrapped Silbie in her arms. "I'm just so glad you're home. How did you escape the paparazzi? I expected the lawn to be full of reporters this morning."

No amount of denying could hide the fact Mom was holding something back, and the quick change of subject proved it. Her stomach twisted like a pretzel. She pushed away and eyed her mother.

"You aren't sick, are you?" The memory of watching her dad die flooded back with a force so strong, tears came without warning. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying. I mean—you don't—you don't look sick." She sucked in staggering breaths.

Mom held her hand. "Oh, honey, don't cry. I'm not sick. I promise. You said last night you wanted to see Maia. There's plenty of time for you to do that before we eat."

Silbie tried drawing a breath, but only managed to half-fill her lungs. Something was definitely wrong. Maybe Matthew was sick. Still bad news, but not as bad as if it were Mom. But, they were still newlyweds and Mom would be devastated to lose another husband. That must be why she couldn't talk about it. Too painful.

"Get dressed." Mom stood. "I'm headed back to the kitchen. Matthew's made a mess. He insisted on pancakes and omelets for you and Dante."

Silbie barely heard a word. Why be negative? It might be good news. Maybe a big announcement like an around-the-world cruise—or—Matthew had convinced Mom to move to Dallas. No biggie, but Silbie's brother would be upset if he uprooted their mother.

After grabbing jeans and a tee shirt from her suitcase, Silbie headed to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged, dressed and ready to go. When she passed through the kitchen, she said a quick goodbye to Mom and Matthew. No need for small-talk. The only thing of interest was the big secret they refused to share.

On the way to Maia's house, Silbie forced away the thoughts boiling in her head and rehearsed her job pitch. Sure, Maia loved teaching, but with Silbie's newfound fame, she had the means to offer her friend more than she'd ever make dealing with kindergarteners. Besides, Silbie needed her. Most of the people she dealt with in LA were clueless about Texans and knew nothing about country life. They thought everyone owned cattle and drove a truck.

As she made her way through town, she checked her rearview for gossip hounds. Old men sat in a group in the front window at Hardee's, eating breakfast and passing time as they had every day as long as she could remember. She chuckled. That was about as much excitement as anyone in Parkers Prairie ever saw.

Her journey from rural Texas to big screen still amazed her. Stardom had never been a dream. Well, that wasn't exactly true. As a girl, she fantasized about Cinderella, Ariel, and Rapunzel. Silly, even as an adult she dreamed of princes and happily-ever-afters.

Cars filled the parking lot at the funeral home. She tapped her brakes and craned her neck. Last night, Mom mentioned the local Wells Fargo bank president had died. Good old Mr. Pritchard always sat behind Silbie in church holding his notes long after the music ended.

Dang, she'd missed this place. Dorothy was right. There's no place like home.

She turned on Elm Street. Mrs. Kruger stopped walking her dog to wave. A half-block down, Silbie parked and Maia Sanchez bounced down the steps to greet her before she could kill the engine.

"Welcome home, Movie Star! I figured you'd forget about us little people," Maia quipped as she pulled her from the car into a tight embrace. "I've missed you. How long you staying?" She released her, grabbed her hand, and tugged her inside. "We should go to Grillenium Falcon one night. Get drunk and act a mess." She giggled. "Well, a trip to the bar for sure. Since you're not twenty-one, I guess we'll have to postpone the drunk part. Wouldn't want you arrested. Twitter would have a field day with that."

Once inside, Silbie slid onto a stool. "I've missed you, too. Actually, everybody in Parkers Prairie. I'm only here for a week."

Maia opened the refrigerator, then hoisted two cans of soda in the air. "Still Dr Pepper?"

"Yep. Old habits don't change."

Maia brought two glasses from the cabinet, filled them with ice, then passed one to Silbie along with the DP. "So, tell me about this stuff I'm hearing. I know you said it's all fake, but it sure looks real. Have you seen this?" She held up a magazine.

On the front, a picture of Logan and Silbie sharing a kiss from one of the retakes. Her skin crawled. The only way that shot could appear in print was someone on set sold it. Damn.

She jerked the rumor rag from Maia. "Silbie Luna plants juicy kiss on hottie, Logan Foster." She slammed the paper down with the force of an ax.

"Well, that just pisses me off. That's from a scene we reshot for the movie. They cropped out our costumes. And, on top of that, they've taken what I said about him during an interview out of context. Very special, my ass. I'm so sick of having my every word and action twisted by greedy sleazebags."

Maia picked up the paper and fanned Silbie with it. "Calm down. You'll give yourself a coronary."

Silbie swigged her drink, then sucked in a deep breath. "You know what I hate about the movie business? It isn't just movies that are make-believe. Everything is. Pretend to like people you don't. Smile no matter what. And, truth never matters. Even off camera, you're forced to follow a script. One that makes you look good. Smart. Successful. The only time I'm myself is when I'm alone—or here." She drained her glass and belched.

Maia laughed. "Yeah, that definitely didn't sound movie star-ish."

"That's why I need you to come to California."

Maia blinked, then blinked again. "Well, Christmas holidays are right around the corner. I guess I could visit for a few days. I've never been to La La Land."

"I don't mean a visit. I want you to come live with me. As my assistant. I'll double your teaching salary."

She glanced away. "I can't leave Parkers Prairie. Not now. I've fallen in love with Dante, and I think he's beginning to fall for me."

Dante threaded into traffic and headed south. In the last twenty-four hours, he'd spent more time with stuffy financial big-shots than he cared to.  He hated the business part of co-owning a real estate company. Owen handled the finances; he was good with numbers. But with him answering the call of duty, keeping the business afloat fell in Dante's lap. Big mistake. He'd pretty much dug the firm into a hole no one could climb out of. Miracles aside, Filgard-Kline Realty would be bankrupt in sixty days. He'd fucked up big time. How the hell would he ever explain it to Owen?

Since he'd not heard from his brother in a few months, Dante had kept that bit of news to himself. Not even Dad knew the gravity of the situation. If Dante asked, the old man would bail him out, but he'd never ask. Hell, he was a grown ass man. He couldn't run to Daddy even if things were shit.

He ramped onto the freeway barely avoiding some asshole trying to cut him off. Fuck. Jerks like you are the second reason God gave us middle fingers. Dante flagged him, then thought about his 1995 sports car sitting in the garage.

If he could finish the restoration on the Porsche Carrera, the bank agreed to use it as collateral for a loan. Another problem, he didn't have time or money for repairs. His Visa still had credit available, guess he could use it. And, if he worked day and night, he might pull it off. That meant, after today, no more visits to Parkers Prairie. He hated that, especially since things were heating up with Maia.

He'd finally gotten her into bed during her last visit to Dallas.  He'd never had a girl put him off that long, but she had a firm rule—form a friendship before sex. A bit old-fashioned for sure, which made him want her more. And, for the first time in his life, he might be getting closer to settling down.

He laughed at the irony of it. Two of his family members had already moved to Parkers Prairie for love.

He fiddled with the radio and found the sports talk show he liked. Anything to keep his mind off his troubles and his upcoming date with the rich widow, Bea Bennett. Owen had been shipped out by then, so Gabriel's place somehow fell onto him.

Bea had taken her sweet time claiming him as her prize from last year's Valentine auction, but tonight was the night. A private supper at her house.

He forced every worry from his brain, settled back and listened to the sportscasters predict the Cowboy's future in the playoffs.

Two hours later, Dad's new residence came into view. He wheeled in behind Silbie's car, killed the engine, and tried to shake the gloom and doom away. Not an easy task with so much to lose. A budding romance. A failing business. His brother's trust. Dad's respect.

The knot in his throat tightened like a noose.

One day of relief. Was that too much to ask? To breathe without his lungs catching fire. Rid his brain of the constant stress. And to sleep. God, what he'd give for a night without restlessness.

He rubbed the back of his neck but the rigid tendons didn't sympathize. Why would they when the rest of his body felt strapped to a medieval torture rack?

A tap on the car window startled him. Silbie leaned low to peer in. "You gonna come in or sit out here all day?" She stepped back for him to open the door.

"Sorry. I was thinking."

She grinned. "About your hot date tonight?"

Jeez, did everyone in town know about the date tonight?

He stepped from the car and hugged her. "Among other things. How's it feel to be home?"  He released her.

"Wonderful. I don't want to leave."

"Yeah, well, you're famous now, so your life's no longer your own."

She looped her arm in his and tugged him forward. "How well I know. So, you and Maia, huh?" She waggled her eyebrows.

"What does that mean?"

"I saw her earlier. Sounds like you've become more than friends."

He stopped walking and eyed Silbie. "Why? What'd she say?"

"Just that you've grown closer."

Thank God. He didn't know what he'd do if she'd made some declaration of love. Keeping distance between them would be hard enough. "We have, but it's still casual, which is a good thing because the business will demand most of my time for the next few months." What a crock. Short of CPR to his bank account, the company was to die a fiery death.

When they reached the porch, Silbie faced him. "Any idea what this brunch is about?"

He shrugged. "You're home. I'm in town for the Bea thing. Convenience, I guess. Maybe Dad got your mom knocked up. They're still young enough to have kids."

Silbie wrinkled her nose as if the thought displeased her. "I hope you're right, but I have this terrible feeling it's something else."

The door flew open and Mom stood with arms akimbo. "Y'all stop lurking and come in. We're ready to eat."

During the meal, Dante picked up on Silbie's apprehension until he was just as anxious as she looked. Something wasn't right. Although Dad kept the conversation going, furrows as deep as a plowed field lined his brow. Did he know the business was in trouble? Maybe. He had friends at the bank. He'd never interfered before, not since he'd help Dante and Owen get the business off the ground.

Dante sliced the thought away before he choked on it.

He'd soon find out. Dad cleared his throat and darted his eyes around the table."Today isn't just about family time. I have some news I need to share. I've known for three months but kept it from you and for that, I apologize." He trained his eyes on Silbie. "But you were just starting a new career." Then he faced Dante. "And you're running the agency by yourself. You both have a full plate, and since there wasn't anything you could do, I thought it best to wait and hope for the best, but..." He trailed off, and Dante could see him blink back tears.

Apparently, Silbie could wait no longer. She pounded the table so hard the silverware jumped. "Just tell us for God's sake. Is there something wrong with you or Mom?"

He pumped his open palm in the air as if calming a crowd. "No. We're fine. It's Owen. He's missing."

Yikes. Silbie's gonna lose her cool over this, for sure.

TEASER: Bind his hands and give him a thirty-minute head start.

Uh oh.