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forget everything but his charm.

"Now see, that's not so hard," he said with a grin.

"What? Dancing?"

"No, smiling."

"I smile."

"Not very often anymore as far as I can tell."

"What do you know about how often I smile—"

He spun her out, twirling her around once, twice, a third time as they
continued with the flow of
dancers in a wide arcing circle, before he reeled her back, all in
perfect time with the beat.

"—since you haven't been in town more than a few days."

"I've known you for as long as I can remember," he whispered gruffly.

"But haven't been around long enough in the last thirteen years to know
if I smile or not."

"Let's just say it's a sixth sense I have."

"Knowing if a person smiles?"

"Knowing when a woman's unhappy."

"Certain women," she shot back. "Maybe. And then only because you're
responsible for making them
that way."

He actually missed a step. Then his eyes glittered appreciatively
before he laughed loud and strong. Women turned to look, their gazes
wistful.

With every turn and touch, Kate forgot about ratings and viewer polls.
Whether it was the music, the drink, or too much Fiddle Faddle and
videos, she forgot.

"I thought your cooking show turned out all right."

She laughed again. "You have a bad habit of coming to my rescue."

"You have a bad habit of needing to be rescued."

"That's not true!"

"You just said it yourself." His eyes gleamed as he glanced down at
her. "Remember the time you
were in fifth grade, surrounded by those sixth-grade boys?"

"Hey, Billy Weeks said I threw like a girl."

"You are a girl."

"But I never threw like one. And I would have proven it if you hadn't
interrupted."

"You were about to punch him in the nose. He would have punched you
right back. Weeks wasn't opposed to hitting girls."

Kate sniffed, disgruntled, knowing he was right.

Jesse warmed to his topic. "That reminds me of another time I saved
your ass. The day in the tree house."

Her mouth fell open in disbelieving astonishment. "You didn't save me.
On top of which, I'm really tired of your I-saved-you theme."

"Funny, I kind of like it. And technically, I think that would be the I-saved-you-repeatedly theme." His
dark eyes sparkled. "Plus, it's hard to forget you up in the tree, a
storm to beat all storms whipping every plank and piece of plywood
free. I came up there when no one else could get you to come down. Not
Julia, not Chloe, not your sister."

Kate might have been able to explain away the other incidents, but as
much as she denied that day to
Julia and to Chloe and wanted to deny it to Jesse, the truth was he had
come up into that tree. The wind had been blowing, prying boards away
one by one, just as he said, lightning cracking open the sky. When all
the other kids had given up on her and fled, it was Jesse who climbed
up next to her, not caring how the place groaned beneath the growing
storm. They had both looked out through the leaves, beyond their yards,
the rain starting up, whipping at their faces.

Thankfully he refrained from mentioning the rest of the episode, where
she had turned to look at him, then asked why he had gotten so upset
the night before when she had slipped into his bed. She had
gotten in bed with him dozens of times, but it had been the first time
he had seemed big and grown up,
so much older than she felt at fourteen. She had felt his strong body
against hers, the strange planes
and angles she'd never noticed before.

She had touched him and his whole body had gone still.

She realized now that at fourteen she should have known better. But she
hadn't. With innocent wonder, she had traced the hair along his chest,
following it down his body until suddenly he groaned, grabbing
her hand. Setting her away from him, he had quickly rolled off the
other side of the bed and slammed
out the door.

It was like she had grown up overnight.

The next day, sitting in that tree, she had been confused and upset,
and when he came up to get her, all she knew was that she