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As she slid some seasoned chicken in the oven and readied squash for baking, she heard the clicking of stilettos on the concrete in the hall behind her. Who was that?

Raine whirled to find a stylish woman standing in the doorway. Looking a few years older than Hammer, she had the casual elegance of someone who had lived and felt comfortable in her skin. Raine envied her easy polish. The woman’s champagne tresses looked artlessly tousled. Her berry lips had been painted with precision in a shade that was sexy without being overt. A black sheath clung to her graceful curves and stopped a few inches above her knees. The woman’s patent shoes looked designer, seductive without being hookerish. She even carried a chic red clutch.

In short, the woman looked completely put together—something Raine feared she never would be.

Realizing she was staring, she wiped her hands on her apron. “Can I help you? The club isn’t open yet.”

“I’m a bit early.” Her eyes lit up as she looked at her watch. “Traffic was lighter than normal. I’m here to see Hammer.”

Why? But Raine was afraid she knew the answer. Hammer fucked this woman, didn’t he? His business was sex. And she’d seen boxes of condoms in his personal space.

Something ugly slammed into Raine’s chest. She’d never be half the woman this amazing bombshell was. No wonder Hammer had zero interest in having sex with her. Why would any man want a silly little virgin when he could have this goddess?

“Um, he’s busy.” Maybe if she wasn’t forthcoming, the woman would go away.

Raine didn’t want to think about why that idea made her happy.

“I’m sure he’ll get unbusy for me. He never keeps me waiting.” The woman looked her up and down, ending the scan with a speculative raise of her brow. “Are you his…little sister?”

She and Hammer looked nothing alike, but clearly the woman was trying to decide why someone so young stood in his club, in his kitchen.

“Employee.” Why, are you his mother? “He can’t cook.”

Even the woman’s laugh sounded refined. “Well, his skills lie elsewhere, after all.”

Obviously, this woman would know. And Raine didn’t like that at all. “Did you need something?”

“Can you tell me where to find him?”

“I...” Raine refused to speak the words that would send her to Hammer’s bed.

“Oops. I almost forgot…” The woman reached under her dress and tugged on something. With a shimmy and a wriggle, her panties came down her sleek, spray-tanned thighs before she stepped out of the satiny undergarment and stuffed it in her purse. “There. That should make Hammer happy. Now, where can I find him?”

Raine closed her gaping mouth and resisted the urge to punch her. Was this bitch serious, dropping her drawers in the fucking kitchen?

The sound of sure, masculine steps resounding down the hall saved her. Hammer appeared a moment later, smiling at the blonde. “Erika, good to see you. Lost?”

The woman’s eyes lit up with heat and anticipation. “Eager.”

He smiled and settled a hand at the small of her back. “I’m ready. Let’s head to my…office.”

Raine knew where they were really going and what would happen there. Suddenly, she was desperate to stop it. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Keep mine warm. I’ll eat later,” Macen tossed over his broad shoulder as he led Erika out of the kitchen, shutting the door behind them.

Leaving Raine alone to cry tears she didn’t understand—a cycle that would repeat itself over and over for the next six years….

Fourteen months later

November 7

Thick clouds rolled across the cold November sky, matching Hammer’s dark mood. The bitter wind lashed his face as he stared at the familiar gravestone in somber silence. As always, his Irish pal Liam O’Neill stood beside him, offering his steady support through this annual vigil of contrition. But Hammer could never really atone; he knew that.

“The flowers you brought are lovely,” Liam offered. “She would have liked them.”

Probably. Sometimes, it felt as if she’d left a lifetime ago. And sometimes, it seemed like yesterday.

Hammer nodded at his best friend because he didn’t know what else to say. He hated thinking about her loss. He hated talking about it even more.

It also sucked that he and Liam only saw each other once a year now, when Hammer flew back east so they could share a few grim smiles and bittersweet recollections during this terrible ritual.

They’d been inseparable back in the day, solid through the best and the worst of life. Then time, circumstance, and some really regrettable decisions had changed everything. Still, despite the distance between them, he loved the bastard like a brother.

Liam turned to him. “Did I tell you I brought flowers for her birthday?”

“You did.”

“That day was sunny with a tease of spring in the air. She would have been pleased.”

Hammer nodded. “She never liked winter.”

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