The expression on his face …

Well, it was nothing Sutton had ever seen before. Warm. Tender. Slightly wistful.

And all of that made her refocus on the female. She was short and built very strong, her thighs tightening her jeans, her boots worn, her blondish hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. It was hard to judge the features from just a profile, but her skin had been kissed by the sun and she positively radiated youth and health and competence in her environment.

From time to time, she turned to the man next to her.

She didn’t seem to notice Edward.

Edward certainly didn’t notice Sutton—

As if he had read her mind, his eyes shifted and he straightened. And at the same moment, the woman and the man she was with discovered they were no longer alone and got all startled.

Sutton ducked out the open bay so fast she nearly lost her footing, thanks to her stilettos—and wasn’t that a reminder that whereas the woman in front of that stall was clearly in her element, Sutton was lost out here, no more capable of riding a horse in her current Chanel suit than mucking out after one in her Louboutins.

And this was Edward’s new life. He’d always had an interest in horses, but now he was breeding and racing his stock in earnest.

That woman, that naturally beautiful, physically fit woman, was perfect for the farm. Perfect for the new him.

Sutton, with the Mercedes she was heading to, and her board appointments and her corporate strategies, was everything about his old existence.

She shouldn’t have come.

“Sutton!”

As he called her name, she was tempted to go even faster for her car, but she was worried he’d try to follow her and hurt himself.

Stopping in the rain, she almost couldn’t bear to turn around: She had been thinking about him non-stop since they had been together, but meanwhile, he had been out here, with that woman—and even if he wasn’t currently “with” her? Going by that look on his face? He was going to be.

Squaring her shoulders, Sutton pivoted on the grass. And for a moment, she was taken aback.

Edward’s coloring was good, his skin not the gray cast it had been, but flushed with—

Well, hell, maybe he was just embarrassed that he’d been caught. Except he hadn’t been doing anything wrong, had he. She had only discovered him in a private moment, and they were certainly not in a relationship.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have come.”

He stopped in front of her. “It’s raining.”

“Is it?” As he looked at her strangely, she waved a hand. “I mean, of course it is. Yes.”

“Come on inside.”

As he took her elbow, she shook her head. “No, honestly, it’s fine—”

“I know. But come inside. There’s lightning—”

The flash and violent CRACK! of a bolt of electricity hitting something made of wood made her feel like God was determined to teach her a lesson. For the life of her, though, she didn’t know what it was.

Oh, who was she kidding. She needed to let this whole Edward thing go. That was what she had to get through her thick skull.

“Come on,” he prompted. “Before we get killed out here.”

Heading over to the cottage, she remembered the Governor of the Commonwealth volunteering to be her rebound date, and you know, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea, after all.

Once inside, Edward turned on the lights, and the wall of silver trophies gleamed.

“Let me get you a towel.”

“I’m fine.” Really? Was she really fine? “Honestly, I shouldn’t have come.”

Guess that was her refrain, wasn’t it.

Ignoring her protest, he passed her something that was the color of raspberries. Or had been before it had been washed a hundred times. The terry cloth was as soft as chamois, though, and as she pressed it to her face so she didn’t smudge her eye make-up, she decided her expensive Matouk towels weren’t as good.

Also decided that his little girlfriend out in that stable would just rub and go. Or maybe not dry off at all so she looked as dewy as she was.

Twenty. Twenty-two at the most. And Sutton, at thirty-eight, felt like a hundred in comparison.

“I was going to call you,” Edward said as he went into the galley kitchen.

The sounds of cupboards opening and closing seemed as loud as jet engines taking off.

“I don’t need anything to drink—”

As he came back and presented her with a glass, she frowned as she caught a telltale whiff of— “Is this my lemonade?”

“Yeah. Or at least, it should be close to it.” He limped over to his chair and let out a curse as he sat down. “I remembered the recipe. Your grandmother’s.”

She took a test sip. “Oh, you got it right.”

“Took me forever to squeeze the lemons.”

“They have to be fresh.”

“Makes a difference.” He glanced up at her, his eyes tracing over her features. “You look … so good.”

“Come on, my hair’s wet, and I—”

“No, you are as beautiful as you always are.”

Sutton stared into the lemonade as she felt him stare at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m re-memorizing everything about you.”

“And why are you doing that?”

“I need something to keep me warm at night.”

She thought of that woman out in that barn and almost asked him what was up. But she didn’t have that right. Or … more likely, she didn’t want to know.

“Sutton, I really …”

“What?”

He cursed softly. “I wish I could give you what you deserve. I truly do. You are … one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. And I should have told you that sooner. I wish had. I wish I had … well, done a lot of things. But it’s just … life has changed for me, as you know. I’m never going to be what I once was. The things I used to do, the person I used to be, the company I kept … hell, the company I worked for? That’s all gone for me and it’s never coming back.”

Sutton closed her eyes. And as a silence bloomed, like he was waiting for her to respond, all she could do was nod: She was afraid if she tried to speak, the sobs she was holding in would escape.

“What you need in a man is nothing I can provide you with. I’m not going to be good for your public profile—”