The most obvious reason was standing about two feet away, laughing at something Jack had said. In a word—Bailey. She looked stunning in her black-and-gold evening gown. Sexy and beautiful and more temptation than any man should have to resist.

The problem wasn’t that he wanted her. He could accept the longing, the heated blood, the need to pull her into a dark corner and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. That was fine. Desire was easy. Familiar. Comfortable. No, what had him unable to relax was more complicated and a lot more terrifying.

It was that he liked her. He liked hanging out with her. He liked listening to her talk and the sound of her laughter. He liked how she painted a room and baked cookies and took care of her daughter. He liked how he felt when he was around her. He liked that she made him feel protective. He wanted to take care of her, to be with her. He wanted to be a part of her and her daughter’s lives, and that was where it all went sideways for him.

The battle of what he wanted and what he knew was safe wasn’t easy. Telling himself that she wasn’t his ex didn’t help the situation. Because in the end, he could still lose her. That was bad enough, but to also lose Chloe—he didn’t think he could survive the loss of both of them.

Still, when she walked up to him, he couldn’t help leading her onto the dance floor.

She fit into his arms perfectly. With her heels, she was taller than usual, so her body nestled against his. Her smile called to him, as did her beautiful eyes. How was he supposed to resist her? How was he supposed to save himself?

After the holidays, he told himself. Then he would back off. Because while there was some danger, it wasn’t as if he was in love with her. Not yet, at least.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Bailey asked as she walked around the dining room table. It was old—probably from the 1920s. A beautiful dark wood with just enough carving to make it interesting. There were six matching chairs, also in good condition. The cushions needed recovering but she knew how to do that. The best part of the set was the buffet. There was a big scratch on one side, which was probably the reason the set hadn’t sold yet. But in Bailey’s dining room, the buffet would slide into an alcove. With only six inches of clearance on either side, no one would see the scratch.

Chloe studied the pieces. “It’s really nice, Mom. I like the way it shines. Could I help pick out the fabric for the chairs?”

“Of course. We’ll get new cushions and then cover them ourselves.”

“You’re going to teach me how?”

She pulled her daughter close. “I will. It’s going to be a great weekend project.”

Her old table still worked, but it was lost in their new dining room. Plus, she’d always wanted a buffet. She already had a pretty vase she could set on it.

She knew the four-hundred-dollar price tag was a bargain. This set was made of solid wood. It would last another couple hundred years. There had been a sign out front offering delivery in town for only twenty-five dollars. She had the money from what she’d saved on the move.

Chloe squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Mom. We have a nice house now.”

Bailey smiled at her daughter. “You’re right. The new house deserves a beautiful dining room. Let’s get it.”

They went and found the lady managing the sale. She put a Sold tag on the furniture and arranged for delivery. Bailey and Chloe wandered around a little more.

The old farmhouse was filled with plenty of furniture, along with dishes, paintings and other household goods. Bailey lingered over a box of old records. Kenny liked oldies, she thought. And she’d yet to find a Christmas present for him. What did you get the man who not only had everything, but also had the ability to buy it again and again?

She flipped through the albums, not sure what he liked. She saw an album by the Doors. There was something scribbled on the front of it. She pulled out the album and carried it to the window.

“Really?” Bailey asked in a whisper as she studied what turned out to be a signature. She was pretty sure it was Jim Morrison. Was he the lead singer of the Doors? Hadn’t he died young or something?

Her working knowledge of music from the 1960s was sketchy at best, but as the album was priced at five dollars, she was willing to take a chance. She could call Gideon, the owner of Fool’s Gold’s radio stations and an oldies fan himself, and ask him if this was something Kenny would like.

“Mom, look!”

Chloe held up an old-fashioned Christmas ornament. It was of a football player. He was holding the ball in his arms.

“It reminds me of Kenny,” her daughter said. “Let’s get it for the tree.”

“Sure,” Bailey said automatically, doing her best to remain calm on the outside. But on the inside, alarms went off. Because until this very second, she’d only been worried about her own heart, when it came to Kenny. She hadn’t thought that Chloe could be falling for him, as well.

Panic set in, and with it a fierce need to protect her daughter. Because Kenny had made it clear he wasn’t interested in forever and anything less would devastate Chloe. She’d already lost her father—she didn’t need the pain of losing someone else nearly as wonderful.

“Mom?”

Bailey forced a smile. “It’s adorable and yes, we need it on our tree.”

How to fix this, she wondered. A problem she would wrestle with when she got home, she promised herself. Because she had to keep Chloe safe.

They paid for the dining set, the album and the ornament, then they started toward her car. She’d just reached it when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw Kenny’s name. For a second, she thought about not answering, but that was neither helpful nor mature.