“You are celebrating his life,” Glen murmured, and his lips brushed the top of her head.

“I am?” Easing herself from his embrace, she raised her face to look up at him.

“You were the apple of your father’s eye,” Glen reminded her. “He couldn’t keep the buttons of his shirt fastened, he was so proud of you.”

While Ellie knew that was true, it felt good to hear Glen say it. “He was a wonderful father.” She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling.

“The best.” Glen gazed down at her and with his thumb caught a tear as it rolled from her bottom lashes and onto her cheek.

He paused with his finger halfway across her face and when her vision cleared, Ellie noted Glen’s look of surprise. Their eyes met, widened. They couldn’t seem to stop gazing at each other’s faces. Ellie suddenly felt herself frowning, but before she had a chance to analyze what was happening, she realized something else.

Glen was going to kiss her.

She could have moved, avoided his kiss and the embarrassment that was sure to follow, but curiosity got the better of her. As his mouth slowly lowered toward hers, her eyes drifted shut. She half expected him to draw back at the last second, but he didn’t—and she was glad.

His lips were moist and warm as they settled gently on hers. The gentleness lasted only a moment, and then he thrust his fingers into her short hair and increased the pressure of his mouth. Ellie felt the heat in him, the unaccustomed desire. And she felt his tension. She understood it, because she was feeling the same thing. A sense of discomfort, even guilt. This was Glen, her friend. And they were kissing like lovers, like a couple well beyond the range of friendship.

Ellie slipped her hands up his chest and anchored her fingers at his shoulders. The kiss took on another dimension. The hunger that had been held in check was replaced by heady excitement. Ellie opened to Glen without restraint, reserving nothing. He deepened the kiss until they both trembled. When he abruptly broke it off, his breathing was heavy and labored. So was hers.

Slowly Ellie opened her eyes. Glen was staring at her, his forehead creased in a deep frown.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“A kiss,” he said, sounding almost angry.

“I know that. What I’m asking is...why?”

“Why?” he repeated, sounding as uncertain as she was. “Because...because you were crying.”

“So?”

“It was shock therapy,” he said, easing himself away from her, gently at first and then as if he couldn’t move fast enough. He scooted unceremoniously to the side of the sofa.

Not knowing what to think, much less say, she blinked.

“It worked,” he said, as if this entire incident had been carefully planned. “You’re not crying, are you?”

Ellie raised her fingertips to her face. He was right.

“I had to do something,” he said, sounding more like himself now—confident, amused, down-to-earth.

“Something,” she repeated, trying not to press her fingers against her slightly swollen lips.

“Anything,” he added. “I was getting desperate. You feel better, don’t you?”

She had to consider that for a moment. But it was true.

“Hey, I didn’t mean...” He hesitated as if not sure how to continue.

Ellie wasn’t sure she wanted him to. “Me neither,” she told him quickly, far more comfortable dropping the matter than exploring it further. Glen was a damn good friend and she didn’t want one stupid kiss to ruin this friendship.

He relaxed visibly. “Good.”

She smiled and nodded. “I gotta admit, though,” she said, eagerly falling back on the comfortable banter they’d always enjoyed. “You’re one fine kisser.”

“Damn fine,” he agreed, and puffed out his chest in a parody of male pride. “You aren’t the first one to tell me that.”

Ellie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

“You aren’t so bad yourself.”

“Don’t I know it.” Standing, she hooked her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans and rocked on her heels. “Plenty of other guys have told me I’m hot stuff.”

“I can see why.”

They laughed then, both of them, but Ellie noticed that their laughter had a decidedly shaky sound to it.

***

“Shaky” pretty well described how Glen felt. An hour later he pulled into the long driveway that led from the highway to the Lonesome Coyote Ranch. He trembled every time he thought about kissing Ellie.

Fool that he was, he’d given in to a crazy impulse and damn near made the biggest mistake of his life.

Glen blamed Cal for this. His brother was the one who’d planted the idea, claiming Glen’s relationship with Ellie was far more than friendship. Cal had just said it a few too many times and hell—Glen shook his head—one minute he was looking down at Ellie and the next thing he knew they were kissing. What scared the living daylights out of him was how incredibly good the kiss had been. It wasn’t supposed to be that good, but it had shot straight off the Richter scale.

Oh, yeah, Ellie had shaken him up plenty.

Thank goodness he’d been able to make light of the incident, brush it off. Ellie had seemed just as eager to put it behind them. For the first time in years he’d been uncomfortable with his best friend. With Ellie. All because of an impulsive kiss, something that never should’ve happened.

He parked the truck and sat in the stillness of the night to gather his wits about him. He recalled how the kiss had ended and she’d looked up at him, her striking blue eyes wide with shock. Damn if it hadn’t taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to kiss her again.

Thank God he hadn’t. Gratitude welled up inside him. Had they continued much longer they would’ve ruined everything. Knowing he was being less than subtle about it, he’d gotten the hell out of that house. Again Ellie had obviously felt relieved to be rid of him. With any luck they’d both forget the entire incident. For his part he never intended to mention it again, and he sincerely hoped Ellie didn’t, either.

Once he felt sufficiently calm, he climbed out of the truck and walked into the house. Cal sat in the kitchen with ledgers spread out across the table. He glanced up when Glen entered the room and did a double take.

“You okay?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Glen demanded sharply.

“No need to bite my head off,” his brother snapped back. “What happened? You have a spat with Ellie?”

“No.”

“I see,” Cal returned, not bothering to suppress a smile.

“I’m going to bed,” Glen announced.

“Good idea,” Cal called after him. “Sleep might improve your disposition.”

Glen stomped up the stairs and was breathless by the time he entered his bedroom. He closed the door and sagged onto the edge of the mattress. With his elbows resting on his knees, he inhaled deeply several times. No wonder he was shaking. He’d had a narrow escape.

***

The night was alive with sound. The intoxicating aroma of old roses filled the air. Katydids chirped and the porch swing creaked as Savannah and Laredo swayed back and forth, back and forth. The stars were generous with their glittering bounty that night. It all said romance, the romance of song and story, and it suited Savannah’s mood perfectly.

She leaned her head against Laredo’s shoulder and his arm held her close. Even now, resting in her husband’s strong embrace, she found it difficult to believe this wonderful man loved her.

“What’s on your mind?” he whispered.

Savannah’s lips eased into a ready smile. “I was just thinking how fortunate I am that you love me.”

Laredo went still, and she knew his thoughts; he didn’t need to voice them. It was that way sometimes when people were deeply in love. Their marriage was like a miracle, an unexpected gift—and it had come when they were least prepared for it. Because of that, they’d come close to losing it all.