Free Crushing on Love (The Bradens of Peaceful Harbor, Book Four) by Melissa Foster Page A

calm and steady creek, and I’m a white-water rapid.”
    The girls laughed.
    “Seriously, you guys. I talk all the time, and I get excited over everything. He’s perfectly happy in his own world, chopping wood, climbing mountains, and probably wrestling bears, for all I know. Don’t hate me, Jade, but I called him a dumbass for not kissing me.”
    “He is a dumbass for not kissing you,” Jade said. “But I’ve honestly never seen him look at any woman the way he looks at you, so I’d be surprised if something doesn’t happen between you two.”
    They talked for a long time and danced until they were giddy. It was wonderful to get lost in girl talk and to hear that they didn’t think she was nuts for being hung up on Steve. They headed back to the table in a gaggle of whispers and giggles. A hand landed on Shannon’s arm and she spun around.
    Cal stood before her in a pair of low-slung jeans, a white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. A sexy smile softened his sharp features. “Hey there, darlin’. Can I have the next dance?”
    “Damn, she’s lucky,” Rachel said to Jade.
    Maybe it was loneliness that kept Shannon from saying, no thanks , or maybe it was the fact that Cal wanted her when Steve didn’t. She didn’t know why she held her tongue, but she stood silently, debating dancing with Cal.
    “Go,” Jade encouraged her. “You should have fun tonight.”
    Savannah nudged her arm.
    “Sure. Why not?” Shannon said. “I’d love to dance.” As she wound her arms around Cal’s neck and his arms circled her waist, she couldn’t ignore the stab of guilt in her chest. Cal was the epitome of a hot cowboy, right down to his Western accent. He was a perfect gentleman, with thick blond hair and cerulean-blue eyes. And he was a sensational dancer to boot. She should be head over heels, swooning like Rachel was from their table across the room.
    But he wasn’t Steve.
    She danced two dances with Cal, waiting for the zing of attraction to hit her. Her stomach didn’t even flutter. Nothing. It was like dancing with her brother. She apologized for not returning his calls and spent the rest of the evening with the girls, feeling no less confused than when she’d arrived.
    When she finally left the bar, she thought about Steve as she drove up the mountain. Be careful on these roads. Turn on your headlights. The roads were pitch-black, save for her headlights, but she wasn’t scared. She felt safe knowing he was nearby. She saw a light on in Steve’s cabin and debated stopping and trying to talk things out, but she was supposed to be figuring out who she was. And who she wanted to be wasn’t the type of girl who chased down a man.
    She forced herself to drive past, and as she came around the bend at the top of the hill, she was shocked to see a dozen or more glass jars with sparkling white lights illuminating the path from her driveway to the porch. Several more jars lined the steps and porch. That dangerous emotion, hope , came skipping in.
    She stepped from the Jeep and picked up one of the glass jars, inspecting it more closely. There were no batteries, no wires, but a handful of sticks and leaves and tiny flickering lights that looked like fireflies. How did you do this?
    She followed the lighted trail, hope soaring with every step. On the porch she found a card tucked into the doorjamb. The paper was the recycled type, off-white with dark specs like vanilla bean ice cream. On the front of the card was a sketch of wildflowers. She ran her finger over them and the pencil marks smeared.
    You drew these for me?
    Her heart swelled, overwhelming her.
    She opened the card and saw, for the first time ever, Steve’s handwriting. It was slightly slanted to the right, strong and dark. It looked confident and fluid, like him. As she read the harsh note, all those romantic feelings came to a screeching halt. Mr. Contradiction had struck again.
    Predators come out at night. Keep a light on.

Chapter Six
    BEFORE