Dear friends: Again, I'm so sorry for the wait! The last few weeks haven't been as relaxing as I imagined they would be. But stick with me... updates will be a little slow. Life loves to throw us lemons.

Also, a warning that the story will become more adult oriented the further we go. I changed the rating to Mature awhile back to reflect this, but just thought I'd let you know.

Many, many, many thanks to the readers AND reviewers for the last chapter.

Enjoy!

Chapter 13

The instant Evie woke up the following morning, she regretted it. Besides feeling like a heavy weight was lying on her chest and pinning her to the bed, a dull headache throbbed over her eyes. The mascara remaining on her eyelashes crunched as she rubbed her eyes. She blinked to clear her sight, but it took a few minutes for the plain white ceiling to focus above her. As she lay staring up at the boring paint job, the night's events replayed in her mind. Hazy, distorted and fractured, she knew it was useless trying to remember. The amount of alcohol she had poured down her throat in the span of a few hours would make it impossible to piece them together.

She sighed and sat up in bed, looking around the darkened room. Someone had closed the blinds to block out most of the sun, though it wouldn't have mattered. The halo that formed around the edge of the closed blinds was too much for her headache. Still, as far as hangovers went, though her body was stiff and not altogether cooperative, she had fared rather well. The headache was the only lasting remnant of the night, and she'd ended up at home in her own bed with no one sleeping beside her. Despite this, she hadn't been cognizant enough to change into a sleep shirt before crawling under the covers, which meant someone had probably poured her here and left her there to sleep it off.

With a sigh, she crawled from the bed and began undressing, peeling the dress off and throwing it in the corner of the room, hoping to never have to wear it again. The smell of bars and cigarette smoke filled her nose and she cringed. She needed a shower desperately. The white thing poking out of the edge of her bra caught her attention as she vaguely remembered Charlie sticking it there. The scribbled message made her frown when she recalled what had prompted it. What did Charlie know about the brotherly relationship between Donald and Loki that would factor into this whole ordeal? Thinking about it only made her head ache worse, so she tossed the paper into the rubbish bin and went about getting cleaned up.

After a long, hot shower and brushing her teeth, she felt much more human. The stinging water spray had massaged her headache and body back into an operational state. She pulled on a big sweater and stretchy pants—the least restrictive she owned—and made her way downstairs. Halfway down the stairs, the first scent of food reached her nose and made her stomach rumble for sustenance. She continued into the kitchen, fully expecting to find Charlie. Who she did find made her come up short and freeze in the doorway.

"Steve? What are you doing?"

He looked up from turning over a strip of bacon in a cast iron skillet, his short hair falling across his forehead from the sudden movement. A slight blush reddened his cheeks, but he smiled. "Making breakfast."

"I can see that," she said. "But why are you making breakfast?"

"I imagine you're not feeling very well after last night," he said. "A full breakfast always helps me. Do you have anything against bacon?"

"No."

Evie frowned and considered him in the following silence. "I can't imagine you ever getting as drunk as I was last night."

He chuckled lowly. "It's happened before. I'm not perfect."

She dropped heavily into one of the kitchen table chairs, crossed her arms on the table and laid her head on them. "Were you the one to bring me home?"

Steve looked at her seriously for a moment. There was something in his eyes that seemed hurt. Sad, almost. He squared his shoulders and blinked, turning from her to tend to the food cooking on the stove. "Yeah, I was."

"Thanks. I don't remember much after Loki's club last night," she said. "I didn't do anything bad, did I?"

"I don't know what you did before you wound up at the Bird Cage," he said.

Evie sighed. His comment did not allow her to relax. If she were to judge from his tone of voice, something had happened. And it was something major. Maybe Charlie would remember. She always held her liquor better.

"Where's Charlie?"

"She went home with Donald," he replied. "But she should be here any minute. Donald had to drop her off at your truck to drive back. He's on duty today."

"Ah. Why aren't you working?"

"I've already been out and back. Not much pressing work now that the cows are in their pastures or shipped off," he said. "Not until tomorrow and we start setting up for the festival."

He turned one of the burners off and plated two over medium eggs, some bacon and two pieces of toast. After he set the plate in front of her, he grabbed a glass of orange juice and another with water from the refrigerator. He placed both glasses in front of her and then walked over to the coffee maker where he poured himself a mug.

"I need coffee, too," she said.

He shook his head. "Drink the OJ and water. The caffeine will only make it worse."

She frowned. "You don't seem to understand. I can't function without coffee or tea."

"You can have some later," he replied.

"You're cruel."

"No, I'm not. I just know what I'm talking about."

He leaned back against the counter, crossing one long, muscled leg over the other as he sipped his coffee and watched her pick at the food on her plate. It was difficult, though, to pay attention to the admittedly tasty meal in front of her with his dominant presence in the room. His humble yet confident demeanor was completely alluring. The fact that he didn't recognize the appeal made him even sexier, especially standing there like that.

And good lord, did he look good in a pair of well-fitting Levis and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Her fingers itched to undo the belt buckle on his waist.

It was futile to keep telling herself she didn't want to do dirty, nasty things to him. Because she did— and not just once, either. She was almost certain those hands—those big, long fingered, strong hands—knew a thing or two about pleasing a woman. And she just knew those perfectly bowed lips had the potential to set her on fire no matter where they might land on her body.

The thought caused her to gasp mid-drink and resulted in the acidic juice traveling down the wrong pipe. She spluttered and coughed, patting her chest. He straightened up and looked at her for signs of distress. She held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm fine," she gasped and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "Swallowed wrong."

Silence fell between them instantly and Evie did everything she could to focus her attention on her eggs—and only the eggs. She had to get over this physical attraction. The man in question wouldn't think twice about her beyond a lost, lonely pup who required care simply because she seemingly couldn't take care of herself.

The thought sobered her quickly, more than anything else could. She sighed and set her fork down, pushing her plate back. "Breakfast was great. Thank you."

He smiled. "My pleasure."

"You didn't have to do it."

"No, I didn't," he replied. "But I wanted to do it."

She got up from her seat and took the dishes to the sink. He shifted aside so she could do it, but did not move away, blocking the coffee pot. "May I please have some coffee now?"

"If I said no?" he asked.

"I'd fight you for it."

He smirked and set his mug down, taking a step closer to her. His arms crossed over his chest as he stood at his full, impressive height. "I'd win."

Evie was unable to control the blush that inflamed her cheeks, but she was unable to turn away to hide it. Honestly, she didn't even know why she'd had that reaction. She wasn't the blushing type. Yet, the electricity of his sudden presence so close to her and the warmth of his body made her stomach do a funny little flop. The voice in her head told her to take a step back—to move—to get out of the situation. It began to scream as he drifted closer at an agonizingly slow pace. Every fiber of her being wanted him to continue on this course, but she knew better than that. She'd made a promise to herself, and Steve Rogers was the last person on the face of the planet who would ever be interested in her.

The confusion between body and mind paralyzed her so all she could do was watch him. Her body needed him to kiss her, but her mind yelled to apply the brakes. As amazing and handsome and… and sweet… as he was, she couldn't do this. She didn't want to be the rebound girl. She didn't want to be compared to Peggy. From what she'd heard the other night, she'd be found incredibly lacking in every area. Evie knew, deep down, that any woman to be worthy of Steve Roger's attention had to be incredibly special.

She was saved by the front door opening and slamming shut. The sound pulled her out of the trance he'd initiated by staring her down with those dangerous blue eyes, and she stepped away quickly, trying to focus on something other than his lips as Charlie came into the room.

"What smells so amazing?"

"Breakfast." Evie pointed to the stove.

"Do you want some? There's more eggs…" Steve said, pointing a thumb at the refrigerator.

"You made breakfast?" Charlie's incredulousness was not missed as her eyes darted between them. "Wait… did you… did you spend the night?"

"No! Of course not," Evie said. The denial came out perhaps a little too emphatically, making it sound as though she considered the notion detestable. God, it was the least the detestable thing she'd ever considered, but he didn't hear that, and she didn't know how to save herself. Steve bristled and the edges of his ears reddened, making her pause and consider his reaction. She didn't know if he'd spent the night. "Wait… did you?"

Steve sighed heavily. "No, I left after I brought you back and made sure you got upstairs. Anyway… I should probably head out to work."

The only men she had ever seen make a faster getaway were the men who tried to sneak out in the morning so they wouldn't have to face her in an awkward morning after scenario. At least it was somewhat of a relief that Steve didn't actually consider her to be worthy of spending the night. Bashful though he was, he clearly wasn't into her. But then what had all that posturing been a few minutes ago? He'd been about to kiss her, hadn't he?

Evie huffed. "You know, you really do know how to make an entrance."

"How was I supposed to know what I was walking into?" she said. "I could literally cut the tension in here with a knife it was so thick."

"Was it?" Evie busied herself with collecting dishes to clean.

Charlie scoffed. "You know it was."

Evie shrugged.

"I can't believe you're even standing, much less eating, really," Charlie remarked. "I didn't think you and Steve were coming home to have hot drunk sex. He practically carried you to his truck, from what Donald told me."

"I don't remember what happened last night," Evie replied.

"All I know is that you were sick and Steve brought you home."

"You didn't see me get sick?"

"No, I imagine that's why you ran out back for fresh air."

Evie nodded. She remembered that. Somewhat. It was the reason why she didn't feel completely dead this morning—most of the alcohol had left her system when she'd become ill.

"So… I found the note you left me about Thor and Loki."

"Oh, yeah, that's right!" Charlie said with a chuckle.

"So? What do I need to know?"

Charlie shrugged. "Just that, as I'm sure you can guess, Donald was the golden boy between the stepbrothers. Loki was always the brains of the operation, and Donald the brawn. Donald says both of them received the same treatment and opportunity growing up, but their father approved more of Donald's personality and traits over Loki's more introspective qualities. Loki has always felt like he was treated as less of a person and son because he wasn't blood related. Loki hates that Donald gets everything without trying… and it's transferred into their adult lives. Loki started his own company in hopes of some day being richer than his stepfather and taking over the family business. Unfortunately, he made some really poor business decisions with the wrong sorts of people early on in his career. Their father got him out of the mess by buying Laufeyson Developments, allowing Loki to stay on as CEO of that brand, but only if he understood he would never take over for him. Instead, he is leaving everything to Donald when he retires. Loki now wants to amass enough capital that he can buy Donald out when their father leaves."

"He wants the keys to the kingdom and Donald won't let him have it," Evie summarized.

"Donald told me he could care less what happens with his inheritance," Charlie said. "But he doesn't want to see everything his father worked so hard for go to waste when Loki takes the company, breaks it up, sells it, sends jobs overseas, you know the whole thing. Loki's idea is hip, new, replace all the old. It would destroy the legacy."

Evie nodded. "Then why the hell does he want some godforsaken piece of land out here?"

"Loki was banished to the Southwest region after a huge deal of his went bad with some shady company in Sweden," Charlie explained. "So he's trying to make hay while the sun is shining and get back into his stepfather's good graces."

Evie huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. It certainly explained a few things about the whole relationship dynamic, but it didn't do much else. "That doesn't really answer anything. They hate each other. Loki can't be trusted. What part of this news is supposed to surprise me?"

"I just thought, as a scientist, you'd like to know the whole story and not fragments," Charlie replied. "It will better inform your decisions and conclusions."

"So this is really about the whole meeting him Phoenix to discuss his business proposal thing. You don't want me to leave so you have an excuse to stay" Evie chuckled and shook her head. Clearly, Charlie was already well enamored of the ranch life and of her own personal Thor doppelganger.

"I don't think you should go. Your willpower… it still isn't there."

Evie held her hand up to stop Charlie's words. "As a scientist, it's only right to investigate all possibilities before declaring one hypothesis null. I'm going to Phoenix. I'm going to let him do whatever song and dance he has planned. It doesn't mean I'm going to accept it, nor does it mean I won't. I haven't even gone through all of Dad's business stuff. If Loki's offer is the best course, then I'll go with it… even if it means he's one step closer to pissing off his brother."

Charlie was clearly unhappy with this pronouncement judging by the expression of disgust on her face. "You mean to tell me you haven't at least fallen a little in love with the quaintness of this town?"

"What you really mean is… haven't I fallen in love with Steve?"

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did."

"No… you did," Charlie said.

"I'm not in love with Steve. Even if I had any romantic inclination toward the man, he's completely closed off and it doesn't matter."

Charlie shrugged. "I have it on good authority that he might be changing his mind."

"It doesn't matter!" Evie replied. "Aren't you supposed to be supporting me in my attempt to stay out of a relationship?"

"I could turn a blind eye to this one."

Evie suddenly felt exasperated by her annoying, though well meaning, friend and moved toward the door out into the living room. She paused, glancing back. "You know what? Even if he made a move and I went along with it, and I didn't sell the ranch… you're forgetting something really important."

"That is?"

"My career… the lot of my research is in England. My whole life is. I don't see a whole hell of a lot of stone circles in Prescott, Arizona."

"Just because they haven't found any yet doesn't mean they aren't waiting to be discovered," Charlie said.

Evie rolled her eyes.

"Evie, let's be honest here," Charlie said. Her voice was suddenly low and serious. "There's nothing left for you in England, especially not with Oxford, not with any of those circles. Even as I was leaving, the rumors about you and Smith were flying around. If Smith had his say, you'd be laughed right out of academia."

Charlie's words stung her to the core, but they were true. Evie knew the risk she was taking getting into a relationship with her married mentor. She knew what could happen. And still she'd done it. She'd followed her compulsive need for attachment into a relationship that had likely ruined whatever tenuous credibility she'd had in an old-boys club like history and archaeology.

Realistically, Evie knew what her friend had said was true. She just hadn't made herself believe it yet. She thought if she kept saying she was only going to be out here for a few weeks then it might actually come true. That maybe she'd finish up here, go back home, things would have blown over and she could go on with her life. It didn't appear that anything like that would ever happen.

"I think you really should consider your options out here," Charlie said. "If they don't involve a stand up guy like Steve, then so be it… but maybe this is the fresh start you need. Maybe… maybe your father passing away was a blessing in disguise."

Evie snorted derisively. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to the office to start looking through my dad's business stuff so I can be prepared for tomorrow."

"Whatever. I'm going to get cleaned up and then I'm meeting Natasha for lunch."

Evie opened her mouth to ask why Natasha was suddenly buddy-buddy with Charlie—the woman had barely said five words to her since they'd met a week ago. Instead, she closed her lips and shook her head. If Charlie wanted to go out with Natasha, she could, despite the fact that it made her uncomfortable.

"Have fun," Evie said as she left the kitchen and went back to her father's office.