Right. “You’re not exactly my type.” Jess had been uber quick to point that out, hadn’t she? Gage was probably right—they were stuck.
If Pete hadn’t already destroyed it.
“Besides,” Gage was saying, “why would you ever venture into that no-man’s land when you have someone like Tallie hunting you down?” Gage was looking past Pete and gave a little nod. “Howdy.”
Pete turned, and there she stood, Tallie Kennedy, dressed in a pair of jeans, cowboy boots, and a T-shirt that hugged her in all the right places. The kiss of the sun streaked her doe brown hair, and she leaned against the doorjamb, holding out a manila envelope, her blunt fingernails a shade of red.
“Hey, Pete. I’m not sure if you subscribe to the paper, so I brought you a copy of the article.”
Oh. He reached out for the envelope. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She glanced at Gage and stepped into the room, closer to Pete. So close, actually, that he could smell her perfume, sweet, with enough spice that it twined around him.
A whir of curiosity stirred inside him. Her eyes were shining, and a tantalizing smile tugged up her face.
“I saw Ben in the yard, and he said he was releasing a new single tonight at the Gray Pony. I was thinking that maybe I could buy you that pizza . . .”
It feels good to be liked.
Yeah, it did, actually. Felt real good to have a pretty girl like Tallie look at him with a smile that suggested anything but the friend zone.
He swallowed, felt himself relaxing into old habits. “I might like that.”
A lot. In truth, he hadn’t had a date in months.
All his time was spent at Jess’s.
No wonder he’d let himself read too much into that friendship. He just needed time with a girl who didn’t see him as a teammate. A buddy.
Pete wanted, suddenly, to be the guy he saw in Tallie’s pretty amber eyes.
She had inched closer now, raised her face to just inches from his. “And maybe, before that, we could take a drive into the park? You could tell me all about what it feels like to wrestle a grizzly?”
“I have to help a friend with her . . . bathroom.”
Wow, that sounded flimsy, even to him.
“Really? C’mon, Pete. It’s a gorgeous afternoon, and I have it off. Spend it with me.”
She put her hand on his chest, right over his heart.
He exhaled, glanced behind him at Gage, who had his attention buried in the packing list.
But Gage gave a furtive glance at Pete, a tiny nod of go for it.
With Tallie, there were no games, no threats.
Pete could spend the day, even the evening with her, laugh, dance, have fun, and walk away.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and turned it to “do not disturb.”
“Okay, Tallie. I’m all yours.”
A Friday night, burgers on the grill, tickets to Ben King’s debut single party at the Gray Pony Saloon and Grill, the sun dropping lazily behind the hazy purple outline of the Rocky Mountains, and Sierra in the kitchen with his mom, tossing a salad. Yes, tonight Sam would finally shake off the stress of the crazy week.
Break free of the lingering effects of the bear attack, his horror at kissing Willow, even his residual frustration at Pete for not reporting the wounded bear.
Sam didn’t want to blame his brother—probably just a coincidence, the two bear attacks. But the fact that his irresponsible brother got his mug on the front page of the weekly Mercy Falls Register irked him more than he wanted to admit.
The angle of the article made it sound like Pete alone had saved them all from a mauling. Pete could have probably left out the part where Sam came to a callout dressed for a dinner party.
Tonight Sam planned to resurrect the abysmal crash-and-burn date from last week with romance, country music, and hopefully Sierra in his arms on the dance floor.
He’d finally burn from his mind any lingering memories of kissing Willow, and along with it, the ember of shame in his chest.
“How are the burgers coming along?” Sierra stepped out onto the deck carrying the Caesar salad. She wore a lime-green Ben King T-shirt, fan gear she’d probably procured from Kacey, faded jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots. He liked her dark hair shorter, hanging in soft waves around her face, reaching to her chin. It made her appear sweet, just a little fragile. Like she might need protection.
Like she might need him.
Except Sierra didn’t possess a fragile bone in her body. Small but tough, she’d spent the past five years organizing Ian Shaw’s life as his personal assistant, and the last summer turning PEAK Rescue into a shipshape operation.
Probably that’s what drew him to her—she reminded him a little of himself.
From organizing their weekly barbecues to putting together the early-alert system, from PR to baking cookies, Sierra stepped into the role of den mother for his sometimes unruly crew.