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  She strolled through the gym. A group of college men clustered around the weights, debating which teams would end up in the Super Bowl. Runners, eyes focused straight ahead, pounded the treadmills. She bounced down the stairs to a back room and flipped on the light switch. In the far corner a black punching bag hung motionless. Time to get serious. She pulled on a pair of boxing gloves and circled the bag. A half-hearted jab at the bag sent it swinging.

  “Why don’t I hold the bag?”

  Colleen wheeled around, unable to believe she and Matt were, once again, at the same place at the same time.

  Dressed in gym shorts and the same green T-shirt she had first seen him in, Matt strolled into the room.

  Her gaze traveled from the gym shoes to the broad shoulders filling out the faded shirt. Faded or not, he managed to make the old shirt look good, she realized with a tiny spark of desire. Down, girl. “Is that the only T-shirt you have?”

  “No, but it’s my favorite.” He spread his hands across flat abs and grinned, a glint in his eye.

  “Obviously.” She studied him, the gloves held defensively in front of her.

  “You’re not going to hit me, are you? You can’t hit a guy with glasses, you know.” He adjusted his wire rims with one hand.

  Really? She dropped her arms. “Don’t be silly. I was just trying to get in a little workout. They offered me a job here teaching kick-boxing and I’m a little rusty.”

  “Let me give you a hand.” He moved around behind the bag, leaned a shoulder against it, and grabbed it with both arms. “Okay, give it all you got.”

  Colleen took a deep breath, willing herself to focus on the task at hand. She positioned her body, left foot forward, and then tapped at the bag with her left glove, distracted by the nearness of the muscular biceps stretching the fabric of the old shirt.

  “That’s pitiful.” Matt jogged over to the stereo in the corner and punched some buttons. A current hit song with a deep bass beat blared from the corner speakers. He jogged back and gripped the bag. “There, maybe that will help.”

  Colleen focused on a tiny rip dead center of the worn bag. Jab, jab, cross, jab, jab, cross—go with the beat.

  “Hey, don’t hurt me.” Matt flashed a wicked grin.

  Her glove skittered off the bag and she barely caught herself before doing a face plant on the bag. “Now look what you’ve done,” Colleen scolded. “You got me off the beat.”

  “Try again. My mother could hit harder. Is that how they do it in the Air Force? Boy, that’s scary.”

  Colleen swung at him and missed as he jerked away.

  “Hey, watch it.”

  A bubble of laughter broke from her lips. Colleen glanced up at the second hand on the clock. “Okay, thirty seconds left, thirty seconds right. Go.” She planted the glove dead-center on the tiny rip.

  Eyes on the clock, Matt steadied the bag as she punched.

  Colleen did three more sets before Matt called “Stop.”

  He stepped back. “Anything else? Want to try some kicks?”

  “Sure, that would be great.” Colleen wiped her forehead on her sleeve.

  Matt searched through the equipment box until he found a vinyl-covered paddle. He turned and held it out straight-armed. “Show me whatcha got, woman.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  With a graceful yet powerful pirouette, Colleen’s sneaker laces hit the paddle with a resounding smack.

  “Not bad, Sarge.” He waggled the paddle.

  Colleen grinned. “I am really out of practice. If I’m going to teach this class, I need to put in a few solo sessions first.” She pirouetted once more with the right and then smacked the paddle twice with her left foot.

  “If you need a hand, just let me know.” Matt tossed the paddle in the equipment box and turned off the stereo.

  “Thanks.” She flipped off the lights, tilted her head, and took stock of the tall man. “That was a big help and…” She bit her lip. “A lot of fun.” She blushed and bounced up the steps ahead of Matt to avoid catching his eye.

  “No problemo. Now it’s your turn.” Matt tugged at her shirt from behind.

  Colleen flinched as Matt’s fingers grazed her bare back. At the same time, the words no problemo sparked a memory. Where had she heard the phrase recently? “What do you mean?” She turned and backed away at the top of the stairs.

  Matt tossed his towel over his shoulder. “I need someone to spot me while I lift.”

  “Aren’t there some guys here who can help?” Colleen tilted her head toward the college men, still arguing about football.

  “All the ‘some guys’…” Matt made quote marks in the air, “…are busy spotting other ‘some guys’. Do you want me to choke myself?”

  “No.” Colleen’s shoulders drooped as she contemplated spending more time with Matt. Granted, working out went faster and easier with a partner but… She studied Matt, leaning against the wall with crossed arms watching the other lifters. Just when she thought she could control her emotions around the man, he went and did something adorable that just made her heart melt. Like his perpetually mussed-up hair. Irritation prickled at her. “Fine, let’s go.”

  “Don’t get cranky, Sarge.” They wended their way among the weights. Matt stretched out on the bench and placed his hands around the bar.

  Colleen studied her reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Anything was better than looking down into Matt’s dark chocolate eyes and the well-filled-out faded green T-shirt.

  “Hey, can you take off my glasses?”

  Colleen reached down for his wire rims and tucked them into a pocket. Great…now she could really disappear into those dark eyes! “Quit procrastinating.”

  Matt smiled upward. “After we change, I’ll buy you a frozen yogurt. What do you say?”

  “No, thanks.” She backed off a step as warning bells went off in her brain.

  “Jeez, don’t back off, Colleen. I’ll get strangled for sure by the time you get up here to save me.” He contemplated the bar as he wrapped his fingers around it. “You’re right. Sounds too much like a date, doesn’t it? You’re absolutely right.” Matt took a deep breath and blew it out between pursed lips. “Then I’ll meet you out front and you can buy me a frozen yogurt.”

  “You’re hopeless.” Colleen braced her feet and held her hands, palms up, under the bar. Friends, just friends. A glimmer of regret coursed through her. “Go, Professor.”

  Thirty minutes later, Colleen plopped down next to Matt on a bench in the park. She squinted up at the sun. “Nice day for the beginning of February.” She licked her cone, enjoying the sweet strawberry taste.

  “Nice day for frozen yogurt.” Matt bumped her knee with his. “Thank you, by the way.”

  “Any day’s a good day for frozen yogurt. And you’re welcome, by the way.” She scrutinized his cone. “What kind did you get?”

  “Honey almond.” Matt slurped the top of his cone.

  “Why am I not surprised? You’re all about almonds, aren’t you?”

  “I’m just one big nut.”

  Colleen giggled. “Don’t you ever want to try something like, oh, say, strawberry?” She held her cone up in the air. Colleen jumped as Matt’s hand shot out and wrapped around hers. “Hey!” She struggled to pull the cone away from his lips, but Matt’s fingers gripped her wrist like a vise.

  Matt’s tongue shot out and swiped a long pink lick before he released her hand. “Um-hmm. Very good, but I’ve got to keep the family business going, you know.”

  “Oh, well, sorry.” Colleen huffed, inched away from Matt’s hip, and pretended Matt’s lips weren’t just inches from hers. “My favorite is strawberry.”

  “Strawberry is good. Did you know California is the nation’s leading producer of strawberries?”

  Colleen shook her head. “You’re just a walking advertisement for California agriculture, aren’t you?”

  “What can I say?” He shrugged. “I’m a professor. Our heads are full of knowledge…some useful,
some not so useful.”

  “I’ll bet you really miss it, don’t you?” Colleen dabbed her lips with a napkin.

  Matt’s eyes lit up. “I hope to publish my paper soon and, assuming Dad continues to improve, go back to classes in the fall.”

  “It must be nice to feel that passionate about something.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Colleen wished she could take them back. Coffee, ice cream, and kick-boxing were all safe topics with Matthew Berk…not passion. She snuck a look. He had gotten up to toss his napkin in a nearby waste can. She wondered if he had heard her.

  “What about you, Colleen? Any more thoughts about your next career move?” Matt sat again and stretched his arms across the back of the bench. His fingers plucked playfully at her ponytail.

  Apparently, he hadn’t heard her. The fingers grazing the back of her neck sent a shiver down her spine. Delicious but forbidden. She leaned forward and propped an arm on her knee. “The manager of the gym asked me to teach a couple classes, which I might do even if I’m doing something else. I toured Rob’s office. I just don’t know yet.”

  “If you’re looking for something to do until you make up your mind, I could use a hand compiling my research, maybe editing. With your eye for detail, you’d be good at that.”

  Colleen opened her mouth to offer and closed it before she did something stupid. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Matt put both hands on his knees and levered himself up from the bench. “I’ve got to go.” He winked at Colleen. “Thanks again for the cone.”

  “You’re welcome.” Colleen smiled at the wink. “You take care.”

  Matt backed off. “You too, Colleen. Good luck with the job hunt. I hope you find something you can be passionate about.” He turned and jogged off.

  Colleen slumped against the bench and slapped her hand against her forehead. That rat! He had heard her!

  ****

  A week later, Colleen leaned on the kitchen counter and contemplated the small red phone cradled in her hands. Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me to the Moon played.

  “Aren’t you going to answer your phone?” Wendy shuffled into the kitchen in a short silk wrap and slippers. Her curly blond hair stuck out in all directions.

  ”Good question.” Matt’s number displayed on the small screen. He hadn’t called her since his New Year’s Day family greeting, although they did seem to bump into each other fairly often…apparently one of the hazards of living in a small town. She took a deep breath and slid open the phone.

  “Hello?” Colleen eyed the bouquet of red roses in the middle of the kitchen counter. She raised a questioning eyebrow at her sister who shrugged and shuffled out of the kitchen, a cup of coffee clutched in her red-tipped fingers.

  “Colleen, hi, this is Matt. Could you come and get your plane out of our building this week? We need the room to store some new equipment we bought.”

  Her plane. Colleen stiffened at Matt’s request. No endearment, no angling for a date. She fingered a soft rose petal and the delicate scent wafted through the air.

  “My plane? Sure. I almost forgot about it with all the excitement here over the baby.” She sent a quick apology heavenward for the white lie. “I can come out tomorrow.”

  “The end of the week would work better for us. The weather’s a bit questionable tomorrow but later this week, we should have unlimited visibility.”

  Unlimited visibility. The man was not a licensed pilot yet he used aviation terminology. Colleen shook her head and wondered if she would ever figure him out. “Okay, I’ll pick up the plane Friday.”

  “Eleven o’clock work for you?”

  “Eleven o’clock is fine.”

  “Fine, see you then.” Matt’s voice was brisk.

  “Fine.” She made a face at the phone as she slid it closed.

  Fine. Everything was fine. It really didn’t matter whether she ever figured him out because their relationship was over—finished—kaput.

  For the first time in weeks, he hadn’t hinted about a date. He sounded distant, almost businesslike. Her plan had worked. She knew if she kept him at arm’s length long enough he would eventually tire of the pursuit.

  That’s what she wanted, right? She drifted into the living room.

  Bobbi rocked by the front picture window while the baby nursed. “Who were you talking to?” Bobbi adjusted the blanket over her shoulder.

  Colleen couldn’t help but notice the look of pure contentment on her sister’s face. She envied her that. “Matt called.” She sank onto the couch with a sigh.

  “Did he beg to see you?” Bobbi’s eyes twinkled.

  “No, he didn’t.” Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard. “He seemed like the person I met when I first landed there. He was distant and cold.”

  “Then what did he want?”

  “He wants me to get my plane out of his building. Apparently, it’s in his way.”

  Bobbi adjusted her blouse and put the baby over her shoulder in one fluid motion. She patted his back rhythmically until a loud burp issued from the tiny mouth. “Well, that makes sense. After all, the original idea was to base your plane here ‘til you decided where you’re going to live.”

  Colleen watched her sister fuss with the baby, patting and jostling, smoothing the downy hair on his head. So much had happened since she left San Diego Airport, she wasn’t sure what the original idea was anymore. “Baby Ryan distracted me from my original plan.”

  Bobbi glanced at her sister, her green eyes calculating. “Baby Ryan distracted you, hmm? I may agree you were distracted by a man, honey, but not by one of my men.”

  ****

  Matt led the mare out of the stall and tied her to the crossties.

  Bunny shook like a dog, her big body quivering as a cloud of dust and loose winter hair wafted into the air.

  “I know, girl, you’re itchy.” He set the box of grooming tools on a nearby hay bale. “After a good brushing, you’ll be all ready for Colleen.” He picked up a rubber curry comb and started on her muscular neck in small circles. Bunny stretched her neck with pleasure as the winter hair gathered in the rubber teeth of the comb.

  Step one of his plan was in place. Colleen would be at the ranch on Valentine’s Day. From the confusion in her voice, he suspected she didn’t realize Friday was Valentine’s Day.

  “All part of my plan,” he said to Bunny as he circled the curry comb across her withers and onto her hips, dislodging hair into the air.

  “I neglected these two this winter, haven’t I?” Matt’s father walked through the open barn door.

  “Understandable, Dad, since Mom and I wouldn’t let you do anything.” He grinned at his father.

  Stan picked up a metal comb and tugged it gently through Bunny’s tangled mane. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with Colleen, does it?”

  Matt looked over the horse’s hindquarters at his dad.

  “It’s part of my master plan,” he responded. He dropped the curry comb into the box and picked up a brush.

  “What are you going to do, ride up on a horse and sweep her into your arms?” Stan grunted. “I know they say women love a man on a horse but I don’t know if that will work with Colleen. She’d probably throw you off the horse and ride off without you. That is not your typical woman.”

  Warmth filled his chest and Matt smiled. “No, she certainly isn’t typical. Colleen requires a more subtle approach.” He paused and stared into space. “I guess that’s what I love about her.” He felt his father’s eyes on him and met his gaze with a slow smile. “Yes, I said I love her.”

  “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. I never thought I’d hear those words. Surrounded by all those pretty girls at the college and never once did you bring any home to meet us. We figured you were a confirmed bachelor.” A grin spread Stan’s lips. “I’m happy for you, son.”

  Matt frowned as he brushed the mare. “I still may be a confirmed bachelor if this doesn’t work. Colleen’s got it in her head she’s too
old for me. I’ve got to convince her the age difference is irrelevant.”

  Stan rested his arms on Bunny’s back. “If anyone can do it, you can, son. You can be very bull—I mean—persuasive when you want to be. If we can do anything to help, let us know. We’ve grown rather fond of her ourselves.”

  Matt grimaced. “I’ll need all the help I can get.”

  Chapter Nine

  Colleen backed the minivan out of the garage and realized the time for decision-making was long past due. If she stayed in Almendra, she needed her car, currently in storage in Florida. Driving the minivan had been convenient but not much fun. She missed her little red sports car.

  As she backed down the driveway, she sighed then immediately resolved to quit sighing. Her life wasn’t so bad. Just the small matter of falling out of love with a younger man…

  If you haven’t fallen in love, then there’s no need to fall out of love…maybe you have to climb out of—

  A blaring horn startled her out of her reverie. She slammed on the brakes as a station wagon swerved around the back of the van.

  “Note to Colleen,” she peered over her shoulder, “check for traffic before backing out of your sister’s driveway.” This time, she made sure nothing was coming before she backed out onto the residential street and put the car in drive.

  “Who said anything about love?” she asked herself out loud. “If I’m not in love, then I don’t have to get out of love. He is just a man, one of millions. There are plenty of fish in the sea, assuming I want a fish, of course.” She pulled up to the stop sign at the end of the street.

  On the sidewalk, an old man with a cane glared at her with suspicion.