She slid her arms farther around him, and as they leaned to one side, then the other, as the road became twistier, she started to get the feel of the road, the movement, and they way they wound their way through each bend and turn, their bodies moving as one unit, along with the bike. And…she realized she was liking it. A lot.

As they kept climbing, her grip on him went from one of panicked determination to one of desired connection. She liked having him between her legs like this, she realized, with the power of the bike thrumming beneath them. It was rather…visceral.

She smiled privately to herself and wondered what she’d say to him when they got to wherever it was they were going. Maybe he already knew, from the way she was holding him, that she’d changed her mind about riding. He always knew.

And that’s when it kind of all clicked into place for her. He knew her. Bottom line. He got her, honestly, completely, without reservation. He listened, and he asked, and he talked to her and with her, and it all came so naturally, so easily. There was no effort being made to try, no need to impress or go out of his way-or hers-to do or say things intended to elicit a certain result. They were just being themselves. And that’s when she realized that she’d never really been herself in her relationship with Patrick. Not all of herself, anyway. She’d kept a lot to herself, things she didn’t think he’d understand, or wouldn’t want to hear, thinking that was just the compromise of any partnership.

What she’d failed to see was that she and Patrick really had a partnership only. Yes, it had been both personal and professional, even intimate, but it was a partnership only. With Brett she not only felt those same connections…but they also had, were developing anyway, a very wonderful friendship. She could, in all honesty, tell him anything. In fact, for the most part, she had. Certainly more than she’d revealed to anyone else. It could have been because she thought he was transient, so what she divulged wouldn’t matter in the long run, but that hadn’t been it at all.

Their connection was true and unavoidable, really. She supposed it was possible after all to click with a person. Or not. And they definitely clicked. On levels that far surpassed the lust and even intellectual chemistry. It was easy because it was right. And maybe that was why she’d been so scared. It was hard to accept that it could be this right, this simple, so quickly.

And now he was telling her things that made her believe he wanted more, too.

How could she not take that chance?

Because if you think Patrick shattered your heart, you’re going to be in for the mother of all apocalyptic destruction if you let yourself fall the rest of the way…and he turns and walks away, her little voice prodded.

They took another turn, and she didn’t even have to think, or tighten her hold on him. They just relaxed into the turn, perfectly in sync. Which is exactly what they were. With each other. She supposed the remaining question she had was how did he think he’d be in sync with all the rest? Was he willing to walk away completely from all aspects of the only life he’d ever known? Not just the poker, he’d already walked from that. But the rest, too. Vegas was home to him. He had people he cared about there. Could his sudden interest in the wilds of Vermont…and a certain innkeeper…keep his attention long haul?

She had no doubt that he thought he was in it to win it, but could she trust that instinct? Trust him?

And then they were slowing down before reaching the next peak and turning up a dirt road.

“Hold on,” he shouted back. “It’s a bit rutted.”

Like she was going to go “look ma, no hands.” But hey, any excuse to snuggle up a little closer…she wasn’t on the fence about that part.

She winced a few times as they bounced in and out of ruts and went around and alongside a few more. She might have had her face buried behind his back for most of the last run up the hill, because she had to lift her head to peek when they finally rolled to a stop. She breathed a sigh of relief when they weren’t inches from a death drop or anything. In fact, they were still deeply in the trees. Then she looked past his shoulder in front of the bike and saw the clearing. And the house.

He turned off the bike and they both climbed off and removed their helmets. He saw she was looking at the house, not at him, and let her look before he said anything.

It was an old log cabin, and not the prepackaged type. This one looked like the logs had been hewn and set by hand. It was still in decent shape, and a decent size as well. Unique, too. There were two plank wood dormers, painted green it looked like-at one point anyway-set equal distance apart in the roof, and there were chimneys rising at both ends. She’d guess it was at least thirty or forty years old, possibly more. A beautifully crafted front porch had been added at some point. Kirby walked a few feet across the front of the lot and saw that there had been an addition put on the back, as well. Also hand-hewn logs, but the color and age were different. It looked either like a small lodge or a big home. Nature had taken the yard over some time ago as there were pines growing almost right up to the porch and no drive or walkway that was clearly determinable anymore.

Brett walked over and stood next to her. “Well, what do you think?”

“Old, still has good bones. If they’re not chewed up by termites anyway. Unique structure for a cabin. I like the porch. I’d say it hasn’t been lived in for a very long time, so who knows what’s on the inside.” She shifted her gaze up to him. “So…what’s the deal?”

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “I bought it. This morning, actually.”

Which explained where he’d been all day, but…wow. “Um. Bought it?” She looked at the house again. “Just like that? Have you been inside?”

“I’ve tromped around it enough. And if it’s not salvageable, then I’ll put something else on the lot.”

“Okay,” Kirby said, because she wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I like the view, the location. Entrance road needs work, but the whole thing will be a huge project, so that’s not a huge obstacle. Mostly I got it for the house, though. I hope it’s sound.”

She half laughed, half snorted. “Me, too. Are you in the habit of just buying things on impulse without doing any research?” All her previous concerns about him rushed right back in. Maybe he was just a compulsive doer. She had no idea if he was as good at finishing what he started, however.

“No, actually. I just knew this was the right first step. I saw the dormer windows glinting in the sun, way down below, when I was out riding.”

“Yesterday, right? In one day, you just-”

He turned then and swung her into his arms; then he made her squeal when he spun them both around. “Sometimes a day is all it takes.” He plunked her feet down but kept her caught up in his arms. “You know what I mean?”

His eyes were so full of joy, she couldn’t help but get pulled in. “Yeah,” she said. “I think I know exactly what you mean.”

He kissed her, and there was something else there this time, along with the passion and instant ignition of need and want. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pouring himself into it, he was…steadied, grounded, like he had the rest of his life to keep doing exactly what he was doing.

And damn if she didn’t want a float in that parade. A real big one.

When he finally broke the kiss, he was still grinning, like a kid with a new toy, which, in a sense, he was.

“So, what are you going to do with it once it’s rehabbed?” She tried not to hold her breath, waiting for the real answer she wanted to hear. He’d said she wouldn’t doubt his intentions after coming up here. Did he really plan to move here? Permanently? She tried in vain to keep from leaping to any assumptions. Maybe it was just a part-time property, that he planned to visit. Occasionally. Maybe he thought that would be enough.