He used to pull on my horrible curls as he’d walk past me at school, and of course because he was two years ahead of me, and a football star, I was crazy about him. My hair naturally falls in tight ringlets, but I’ve since straightened it, thank God.

I haven’t seen much of Josh over the years. Each of us went away to college, and since we’ve both returned, I may catch a glimpse of him at the grocery store or in a restaurant, but never long enough to talk to him. I wonder if the rumors of his womanizing are true.

They were in high school.

I just hope he hasn’t turned into one of those cowboys who wear tight Wrangler jeans and straw cowboy hats.

My lips twitch at the thought as I pull myself out of my compact Toyota. The front door swings open, and there he is, all six foot three of him. Only with great effort does my jaw not drop.

Jesus, we breed hot men in Montana.

Josh’s hair is dark, dark brown and he has chocolate-colored eyes to match. His olive skin has acquired a deep tan, and when he smiles, he has a dimple in his left cheek that can melt panties at twenty paces.

Dark stubble is on his chin this morning, and he flashes that cocky smile as he steps onto the porch. His jeans—Levi’s, not Wranglers—ride low on his hips, and a plain white T-shirt hugs his muscular chest and arms. I can’t help but wonder what he smells like.

Down, girl.

Following directly behind Josh is a tall, blond woman I don’t recognize, laughing at something he must have said just before he sauntered through the door. They stop on the covered front porch long enough for him to smile sweetly down at her. He pulls his large hand down her arm and murmurs, “Have a good day, and good luck.”

“Thanks, Josh,” she responds, and bounces down the steps of the front porch, nods at me, and hops into her Jeep.

“Carolina Donovan,” Josh murmurs, and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“You know I hate it when you call me Carolina.” I roll my eyes. “My parents should have been brought up on child-abuse charges for that name.”

Josh laughs and shakes his head. “It’s a beautiful name.” He frowns and rocks back on his heels. “You look great, Cara.”

“Uh, you’ve seen me around town over the years, Josh,” I remind him with a half smile. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?” I grimace inside, regretting the question immediately. Mom always said, never ask a question you don’t want the answer to.

He shrugs one shoulder and offers me that cocky grin. God, he’s such a charmer. “Nah, we were finished.”

I frown at him. What does that mean?

“So, where is Seth?” I ask, changing the subject.

Josh frowns in turn and looks toward the big house. “He should be on his way in a few minutes. I have to warn you, Cara, working with Seth may not be a day at the beach. He’s a good kid, but he’s having a rough time of it.” Josh rubs his hand over his face and sighs.

“Why is he here and not with his mom?”

“Because the bitch dropped him off here so she can be footloose and fancy-free. She’s filed for divorce. Good riddance. I wish she’d brought him to us years ago.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. I never liked Kensie King. She was a bitch in high school, but she was pretty and popular, and I’m quite sure Zack never planned on knocking her up.

But none of that is Seth’s fault.

“What areas does he need help in?” I ask, and pull my tote bag out of the passenger seat. When I turn around, Josh’s eyes are on my ass and he’s chewing on his lower lip. I frown and stand up straight, self-conscious of my round behind.

“Josh?”

“I’m sorry, what?” He shakes his head and narrows his eyes on my face.

“What areas does Seth need the most help in?”

“All of them. He failed every class this spring.”

“Every class?” I ask incredulously.

“Yeah. He’s a smart kid, I don’t know what his problem is.”

“I don’t need a tutor!” a young male voice calls out. I turn to see Seth riding a BMX bike from the big house down the driveway.

“Seth, don’t start.” Josh’s eyes narrow and he folds his arms over his chest. “Ms. Donovan is here to help. You will be nice.”

Seth rolls his eyes and hops off the bike, laying it on its side, and mirrors his uncle’s stance, arms crossed over his chest.

God, he looks just like his dad and his uncle. He could be their younger brother. He’s going to inherit their height and has the same dark hair, but his eyes are hazel.

He’s going to be a knockout someday.

And right now he’s scowling at me.

“Hi, Seth. I’m Cara.”

“What is it, Cara or Ms. Donovan?” he asks defiantly.

“Seth!” Josh begins, but I interrupt him. Seth isn’t the first difficult child I’ve come across.

“Since it’s summer, and I’m in your home, it’s Cara. But if you see me at school, it’s Ms. Donovan. Sound fair?”

Seth shrugs his slim shoulders and twists his lips as if he wants to say something smart but doesn’t dare in his uncle’s company.

Smart kid.

“Where do you want us?” I ask Josh, who is still glaring at Seth. They’re clearly frustrated with each other.

“You can sit at the kitchen table. The house is empty during the day since I’m out working, so you shouldn’t be interrupted.” Josh motions for us to go in ahead of him, and as I walk past, he reaches out to pull my hair. “What happened to your curls?”