Joleen couldn't sleep. She went to the window and looked out over the darkened landscape, trying to think about something other than Jake...

It was on the second mental chorus of "Deep in the Heart of Texas" that a light snapped on in the guest house across the yard, startling Joleen with its proximity. It wouldn't have taken twenty seconds to walk over. A moment earlier it had been so cloaked in darkness that she'd almost forgotten it was there. Now not only was it there, but so was Jake.

She saw him toss something down on a chair and walk into the kitchen. It was vaguely reminiscent of watching an old sitcom where the cheap film sets consisted of three rooms side- by-side which the characters moved about in. As he passed through the kitchen, he pulled his shirt off, revealing a torso more muscular than Joleen had realized. His skin was deeply tanned and shadows dipped and curved, highlighting every muscular peak and valley.

Beautiful, she thought. Joleen tried to tell herself that this was an objective observation. Rather like one might have upon beholding Michelangelo's David for the first time. Maybe she should have been a casting agent or something. She'd never realized it before but she seemed to have a pretty good eye for physical appearances. Carl, for example, would have made a good...

She thought about that. Carl wasn't as easy as Jake. Jake she could see as a cowboy in faded jeans and chaps; a Greek god in a small drape of fabric; even as a matador in red and gold regalia. Hmmm, maybe especially as a matador in red and gold regalia.

But Carl? Carl was a politician. He looked like a politician. He was perfect, she told herself, in a futile attempt at comfort. Carl was perfect just as he was.

Joleen turned her attention back to the house outside. Whether she should have been watching or not, she could see Jake perfectly. He walked to the refrigerator and pulled it open lazily. He reached in and took a beer can, opening it as he kicked the door shut. He passed back through the kitchen and foyer again, and the front door opened. Joleen shrank back. This was shameful -- she was spying on him.

He stepped out onto the porch and she heard the clop of his shoes against the wood.

Joleen froze, wondering what to do. After a moment, she strained for one last glimpse, but he moved into the shadows of the porch and sat down on a rocker. She could hear the soft, slow creak as he moved back and forth. She saw the light move across his features then shroud him in mystery, again and again.

She had to look away.

She pushed off the window sill and stood up, turning her attention to the room around her. The dim light from the back of the room suddenly seemed too bright and she closed her eyes against it for a moment. When she opened them, it was less glaring. That's what you get for spying, she chided herself, you get blinded.

Not that spying was her greatest sin of the day. The one thought she'd been trying all day to avoid flooded into her mind like Noah's rain: the memory of Jake's kiss and how it had made her melt like wax in his arms. She recalled the fit of his mouth over hers. Every movement he'd made had reduced her resistance until she'd reached the point where she might have been powerless to stop... Her heart pounded wildly at the thought. She'd done the right thing. She had, somehow, managed to stop it and to tell Jake it must never happen again. In her opinion, she'd even sounded as if she had conviction behind her words. But in her heart she knew if he'd pulled her back into his arms at that moment she would have let him.

She may even have been glad...

...Jake dragged a wrought iron chair across the terrace in front of the window and plopped down in it. "So. What are you still doing up?"

"Some strange man came to my window."

"Before that."

"Couldn't sleep." She shifted her weight and rested her elbows on the window frame. "How about you?"

"Same."

She studied him closely but couldn't read the expression in his eyes. Someone else might have called it interest but Joleen knew better than that. The only interest Jake could possibly have in her was as a study in hypocrisy, at least as far as he was concerned. And, by gum, that was going to have to stop if she and Carl were going to have any sortof chance at a life together. "You know, we're going to have to stop arguing," Joleen said, testing the waters.

"We're not arguing."

"I don't mean now, I mean in general."

"Ah." He took a long sip. "And why is that?"

She was taken aback. "Because." She thought. How could she put it succinctly? "So there can be some harmony around here, instead of us always being at odds."

"We just don't feel the same way about certain things." He shrugged, calling to her mind the feel of those strong, broad shoulders under her hands. "Why don't we just agree to disagree?"

She shook the idea of his shoulders out of her head. There were more important things on her agenda. "Because we tend to disagree so vehemently."

He raised an eyebrow. She was sure she saw laughter in his eyes. It raised a lump in her throat. "Then I don't see what we're going to do about that." He met her eyes dead on. "Unless you're willing to come over to my side and admit I'm right."

She tried to swallow the lump, which had increased with the direct gaze of those blue eyes. "I'm not going to do that."

He gestured broadly with his can. "Now you're just being difficult."

She continued, a little stronger, "Any more than you're going to come over to my side and agree that I'm right."

He leaned back and appraised her. "So we should pretend to agree? For the sake of harmony, as you put it?"

She pursed her lips, then shook her head. "Forget it."

"It's not that I'm not interested in making things as easy and smooth as possible for you and Carl," Jake went on airily.

The mention of Carl's name made her stomach drop. "Of course."

"I'm just trying to help you out."

"Naturally."

He leaned forward and nudged his finger under her chin. His face was just inches from hers and she could smell the beer on his breath mingling with his masculine scent. "I like you too much to see you make a huge mistake."

She eyed him steadily. "You're about thirty years too late to swoop into my life with that mission now."

He pulled his hand back, giving her chin a light swipe with his thumb first. Her skin tingled after his touch. "Can't blame a man for trying to do a good deed."

She swallowed. "I guess not."

He stood up, scraping the chair back across the flagstones as he did so. "Time to go." He raised his can to her. "Thanks for the pleasure of your company."

"Bye," she said softly. As she watched him go she was vaguely aware of an emptiness in the pit of her stomach.

She was lonely, not for Carl, but for Jake.

A GROOM FOR MAGGIE....WIFE WITHOUT A PAST ....TWO BROTHERS AND A BRIDE