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leaving for Joe’s, his phone had rung again. Not Ellen, but a Chicago number he didn’t recognise. Ignoring it had left him feeling vaguely uneasy, but he figured it could just be an old friend or colleague calling from a new number. Still, he made a promise to himself to answer the next time Ellen called. Just in case something was going on.

The walk to his apartment wouldn’t take long. Nothing really took long in Rocky Valley unless he was travelling out to one of the ranches or sprawling properties.

It was a gorgeous, clear night with the mountain still snow-capped reaching toward the starry sky. It never failed to take his breath away — the sky here, the mountains, the rivers and lakes. Even the air. He felt like he could breathe here. Really breathe.

Or he had… until the idea of Beth on a date with a hotshot millionaire sat itself on his chest like an anvil.

Walking down Main Street, he turned his eyes toward Beth’s place, surprised to see lights on. They didn’t get a lot of break-ins in Rocky Valley and even if they did, he couldn’t imagine any thieves lighting the place up and drawing attention to themselves. Still, he felt he should check it out. Maybe give Beth a call to let her know…

It was an excuse, of course. He could and should just call Sheriff Callahan if he suspected anything. But he crossed the street anyway and looked through the big window at the front of the shop.

Not a thief.

Just Beth looking mouth-watering in a black dress tight enough to damn near stop his heart. She was sitting on a stool at her counter, shoes off, bare legs crossed and giving him the best view he’d seen in a long time.

It felt a little creepy standing here watching her through the window, but he didn’t want to leave.

She looked a little deflated, her elbow leaning on the countertop, her chin in her hand, and even though he had every reason in the world to stay away, Josh walked through the door.

Beth turned around at his entrance, and he watched closely for signs that he wasn’t welcome. Those giant blue eyes were way more expressive than he’d bet she realised. It was one of the many things he liked about her. A lot. Though the brief flash of happiness quickly disappeared, she didn’t look as if she wanted to kick him out, and he took that as an invitation to come closer.

“Hey,” he said, still not sure of his reception.

“Hey,” she said back flatly.

Something was definitely wrong. He’d never known Beth to feel or sound flat. Ever.

“You ok?” he asked carefully.

Her sigh sounded as if it had come right from her soul.

While he waited for her to answer, he noticed the music playing over the sound system. Air Supply’s Making Love Out of Nothing At All.

That couldn’t be good, could it? He was no expert, but he figured a woman in her twenties wouldn’t be listening to Air Supply unless she was going through something. Which she was, if her expression was anything to go by.

A sudden dread filled him, and he marched forward. “Beth, what’s wrong? Did — did Decker do something?” The rage coursing through him was more intense than any he’d ever felt. The thought of Mason upsetting her, hurting her in any away made him angry in a way not even Elaine’s betrayal had.

She frowned at him.

“What? No, of course not,” she said, and the relief literally made him weak.

He dropped into a stool beside her. “So what gives?”

For a minute, he didn’t think she’d answer but finally, she sighed again and hopped off her seat.

“I made some hot chocolate. You want some?”

Air Supply and hot chocolate? This felt like something that called for Zoe or Brooke or one of the other ladies.

The song ended and I’m All Out of Love started up.

It was — intense.

At just after ten thirty, it was way too early for a date that was going well to have ended. Their own hadn’t until the early hours, he remembered a bit smugly.

But was that the reason for the power ballads and sugar fix? Was she upset about Decker?

And here came the jealousy…

“Hot chocolate sounds great,” he lied. But if drinking it was the price he had to pay to spend this time with her, he’d gladly do it.

Beth was quiet as she fixed him a cup overflowing with cream and marshmallows.

“Isn’t this more of a winter drink?” he said, smiling as she set the mug in front of him, more to break the heavy silence than anything else.

“Not when you need chocolate and don’t want to break into your baking stock.” She smiled back, but it was tiny and fleeting.

She sat back down then picked up her spoon to stir her own drink absent-mindedly.

“So…” He began to ask the question he was dreading the answer to. “…how was your date?”

Her eyes snapped to his before dropping again to her cup. “It was fine. He’s nice.”

That was it? Nice? Nice told him nothing. It was just — nice.

“Are you seeing him again?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Once again, her eyes flew up to meet his. “Why are you asking, Josh?” she asked, a note of challenge in his voice.

Why was he asking? Because he was a glutton for punishment? Because every detail of her life fascinated him, even though it shouldn’t?

“I’m just — being a friend,” he lied. “Taking an interest in your life.”

“And we’re friends?” she asked, her big blue eyes gazing intently into his own.

“That’s up to you,” he answered softly. He had absolutely no interest in being her friend. But he couldn’t offer her more, and he’d rather have her in his life than not.

She sat quietly, seeming to mull over his words.

He sipped the chocolate, which was actually pretty good, and waited.

Finally, she shrugged. “It wasn’t great,” she said grudgingly, and he tried not to feel too happy about that, but

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