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complex, crisp, with flavors of peach, rhubarb, and the slightest edge of salinity.”
    “You read that off the bottle,” Layla said. It was well known that while Rachel had aced her studies at New York’s Culinary Institute of America before buying River’s Bend’s New Chance Café, she’d flunked wine.
    “I did not.” Rachel laughed. “It’s how Gabriel Lombardi described it when he came down from the Willamette Valley to sell me a case from his family’s vineyards. I’ve learned to trust his advice. Although, to be honest, I would have bought it without the salesmanship because it’s such a pretty pink color.”
    “It reminds me of spring apple blossoms,” Jenna said.
    “Speaking of spring,” Heather pressed on, “we all know what men’s fantasies turn toward during this time of year. So, I’m going to try again.” She speared Austin with a look. “Well?”
    “He’s leasing the land.”
    Austin had mixed feelings about that. She didn’t have any problem with a Murphy grazing cattle on Merrill land. But as much as they needed the money, she wasn’t certain how she felt about Sawyer being so close after he’d already let her know, in no uncertain, heart-crushing terms, that the mind-blinding, toe-curling kiss they’d shared outside the hospital had merely been triggered by jetlag and stress about his dad’s heart condition. And had had nothing to do with her. Really.
    While she’d been wanting that kiss for as long as she’d been able to remember. Which had made his curt brush-off even more painful.
    “So, he’ll be living right there on the ranch with you.”
    “In the foreman’s cabin,” she clarified. “Which isn’t exactly across the hall from my bedroom.”
    “More’s the pity,” Mitzi said, eyeing Austin over the rim of her glass. “How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”
    “And solo doesn’t count,” Heather clarified.
    “That’s personal.” Austin could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. No way was she going to admit that it had been so long she’d almost forgotten what it felt like. Though, being with Sawyer that afternoon had caused a lot of vivid sexual fantasies to come flooding back.
    “I brought my copy of this month’s book,” she said, holding it up as a hopeful diversionary tactic. “With all the discussion question scenes highlighted. Who’s ready to dive in?”
    “Well, I think she just answered that sex question,” Jenna drawled. “Obviously too long if you’d rather talk about fictional characters than a hottie like Sawyer Murphy.”
    “ These Three Words is a wonderfully romantic book,” Austin insisted.
    While reading about the estranged couple who hadn’t been able to say “I love you” to each other, although she knew it was impossible, she’d almost felt as if Holly Jacobs, the author, might have been writing about Sawyer and her. She’d gone through nearly an entire box of tissues before the hero and heroine finally got their happily-ever-after ending. Unlike hers and Sawyer’s, which had gone up in flames, leaving behind a mess of cold ashes.
    “It’s a great emotional story about the need for couples to remind each other that they’re loved,” Mitzi said. “Dan, who, heaven knows, isn’t the most talkative male God ever put down on this green earth, never turns off the light at night without telling me that he loves me. And I tell him the same thing.
    “Of course,” she added, “we were fortunate to have found each other later in life. After he’d loved and lost his first wife, and I’d certainly made my share of foolish romantic mistakes.”
    “I enjoyed the dynamics of the couple having moved their relationship from friendship to lovers, then marriage,” Rachel said. “Which was totally different from Cooper and me. When we first met, I felt as if I’d been struck by lightning.”
    “Been there, done that, and have the divorce papers to show for it,” Austin said dryly. “Not that it wasn’t the right