When I first met Brendan Blake, he swept in like a gust of wind-a perfect storm rescuing all of my senses. The second time I spied him, the grump basically declared, "Up yours," on a photo shoot. The third time, he regretted what he'd said the day before, and I once again was provoked by his hazel eyes, wicked smile, and devil-may-care attitude. Then again, his ripped body being photographed by my best friend didn't hurt either. Brendan wrote down his private line on a pastry box. I sent him a memento of our first date-a blueberry pie-almost as soon as it was over. He hooked me. It helped his idea of a perfect second date involved taking me to a baseball game. I let him in-all the way in, took him deep into my heart. I didn't have any choice. Despite the one hard and fast rule I laid out-never lie to me-I lied to myself. I told Brendan my heart wouldn't crumble if he didn't love me. Would I have let myself fall if I knew the secrets he was keeping? I'll never know. I do know you love someone until you can't. That's when you set them free.
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