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“You’ve changed.”

“More handsome, huh?” He grinned.

Darned if Pike wasn’t right, but she’d never tell him that. And not only more handsome but lithe and lanky, intelligent, and worst of all was that terrible, wonderful, dimpled chin. “I was going to say more stubborn.”

“Stubborn, sayeth the pot to the kettle?”

“Yes, sayeth the pot. Aunt Bitsy wants her inn reborn and I can do that better than anyone. It’s the best thing for her.”

He cut his eyes to her, a flicker, before he looked back at the highway. “And you’re sure about that?”

“Yes. It’s what she wants.” Rosa twiddled with the hem of her linen coat, noticing for the first time a spot of paint. Why had she not thought to put on the green blouse that brought out the spark in her hair? Get a grip, Rosa. He wouldn’t notice a spark if it leaped out and burned a hole in his retina. And why should you want him to?

He chewed on his lush lower lip. “Maybe we shouldn’t always have what we want.”

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