The first time I met Billy Taylor, we came this close to having sex in the parking lot of a bar.

    I was upset, okay? I’d just dumped my lying, cheating boyfriend.
    I had my perfect life with him all planned out, and then he ruined it when he put his hands on another woman.

    Billy isn’t like him, or any other man I’ve known … but I can’t let myself think about Billy.
    Or his amazing, sculpted, gorgeous Greek-god body.
    No. I can’t.
    And I absolutely, positively mustn’t fantasize about finishing what we started.

    We could never work. Ever.
    I’m all about the city.
    He’s country down to the bone.

    And if that’s not enough … he’s also my soon-to-be stepbrother.

    So I can’t think about the way he keeps teasing me, flirting with me, driving me crazy.
    Or remember the way his body felt against mine in that parking lot, all heat and hard muscle.
    And the times he’s been nice when I really needed it.

    I have a plan for my life, dammit.
    And Billy Taylor is not part of it.

    If I keep telling myself that, maybe I’ll even believe it.