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"I wish there was more I could do to help," he said, a little surprised to find he actually meant it.

"Well, if you could get the hospital to magically forgive all of our bills," she said, "or help me pick the numbers for this week's Powerball..." she trailed off with a little laugh that made his chest squeeze. He hated the undercurrent of defeat in her voice.

It was something he'd never heard from the Colleen he knew from childhood. Back then, she'd had the world at her feet, had everything going for her. And she'd known it. Not in a snotty, self-centered way, but she was one of those kids in high school who was very aware of her social power. Unlike most kids in their teens, she used that social power for good.

Now she seemed vulnerable, and had a certain wounded quality that made him want to take her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay.

He mentally gave himself a shake. Since when did he fancy himself anyone's knight in shining armor?

"That's sweet of you, but this is my family's mess, and we're going to dig ourselves out of it one way or another."

"I didn't realize the bills had gotten so bad. Liam didn't say anything."

She shrugged and set the glass she'd been washing in the drying rack. "He doesn't like to talk about it. I think he feels guilty that he can't do more himself. But with his alimony and child support payments, it's not like he has a lot of extra cash lying around."

"There's a project here I'm hoping he can get started on soon. Hopefully that will help."

"Hopefully," she said, but her tone didn't hold much optimism.

"Well, if your mom ever decides to sell her place..." It was no secret that Robert Osborne had offered to buy out the Murphys many times over the years. The access to the creek would make it much easier for them to irrigate their hayfields and water their pastured cattle.

He'd meant it as a joke—they all knew the chances of the Murphys letting go of that last twenty acres were as good as hell freezing over.

But Colleen's clenched jaw and her curt, "Over my dead body," told him she wasn't laughing.

"Well we certainly wouldn't want that to happen," JT said. He bumped her playfully with his hip, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Sorry," she said, turning to face him, tilting her rounded chin up to meet his gaze. "It's just, I know that selling seems like the most logical thing to do. But we can't do that. Not after everything Dad did to hang onto it. Now if Gregory would just pay me for my share of the house, we would be okay."

His jaw involuntarily clenched at the thought of Colleen's ex. Against his better judgement, JT had looked him up on social media a couple of days ago. Good looking enough in a square-jawed, heavy browed kind of way. That is, if you could get past the dramatically receding hairline and a smug, self-satisfied smile that tempted a person to punch it off his face.

And the new wife... JT didn't get how you went from a naturally beautiful woman like Colleen to an overly made-up woman who looked like she'd be at home walking the Las Vegas strip.

"Did you finally sell the house? Liam told me it's been on the market for a while."

She shook her head. "No. Gregory has decided to stay in it. Turns out Angela is pregnant and they don't want to move." Though she tried to be flip, there was no missing the little quiver in her voice.

Definitely still a lot of unresolved issues. All the more reason to keep his distance. But that didn't keep his hands from itching to pull her close.

"That's what we were talking about the other night when...

"When you flipped off your phone?" he said, laughing at the memory.

She laughed too, the low, husky sound like a caress against his skin. "What can I say? He brings out the best in me."

JT laughed again, then trailed off.

"What?"

He realized he was staring at her, probably for an uncomfortably long time. "I just don't get it. I can't imagine how anyone could ever cheat on you."

She rolled her eyes and her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. "I can't remember who it was, but didn't someone say, 'show me the best-looking person on the planet and I'll show you someone who's tired of fucking them.'"

He was pretty certain he could fuck her every day for the next hundred years and never get tired of it. His dick surged in his jeans in wholehearted agreement.

"I mean, I'm not," she sputtered, her cheeks going from pink to red, "I'm not saying I'm the best-looking person on the planet or anything."

"Well, you're pretty damn close." His voice came out in a low rumble.