Almost Perfect: A Sweet Small Town Opposites Attract Romance (Back to Silver Ridge Book 1)

by Claire Cain

  Those blue eyes hit me in the chest—made it twist. Whew. He was the one working hard, his chest rising and falling, but just looking at him made me feel like I was adjusting to the altitude all over again.

  “Thanks again for breakfast,” I said, needing some excuse to talk with him.

  “Plans for dinner?”

  My stomach flipped. “Not yet.”

  “Come over around seven, if you’re free.”

  Holy wow, his serious mountain man look was doing it for me like crazy this morning. He wore his usual jacket that made his eyes pop from the contrast, but he also had on thick work gloves and wielded that shovel like a pro. No hat, and with those worn jeans on his legs, he looked at ease in the setting of mountain and ranch home. He was rugged and handsome and just… honestly kind of dreamy.

  “I’ll be there.”

  He stared back until the window rolled up between us, and Warrick’s chuckle made me break eye contact.

  “You two are something,” he mumbled, then cranked on the staticky radio.

  “We’re…” I’d started to say friends, but that didn’t cover it. Warrick and I were friends, definitely. But me and Wyatt?

  “Speechless. See?” He glanced and me and shot a cheeky grin before turning onto the main road.

  “Not speechless. Just not totally sure what’s going on.” Admitting that felt more than a little dangerous. Plus, I knew very well where Warrick’s loyalties lay.

  “Well, I’ll give you the brotherly spiel now and save us the embarrassment later.”

  “Uh, okay.” Where was this going?

  “Let me start by asking you this. What are your intentions with my big brother?”

  A laugh tripped out of me. “Uh. Um, good ones?”

  He nodded, like that was a decent start. “Okay. And I’m sorry to ask this, but it has to be done, and I know he won’t ask you.”

  My pulse ticked up. “Go ahead.”

  “Is your life as Miss Mayhem going to affect Wyatt? Is he going to get any blowback by being seen with you or anything?”

  Little daggers stabbed at the heart of me. Ouch. I hadn’t seen that question coming, but it shouldn’t have surprised me. As sweet as Warrick seemed, he was also practical and cautious and very protective of his family.

  “I don’t think so. The only people who know I’m here are my assistant back in LA, Wyatt’s friends we saw at dinner the other night, your family, and Julian Grenier.” Not exactly covert, but small enough.

  “Grenier? How does he know?”

  Clearly, Warrick recognized the billionaire tech genius’s name. “He lent me his plane to get here. We met years back and, long story short, he got me here under the radar so I didn’t have to fly through Salt Lake City last minute.”

  There definitely hadn’t been a small airport in Silverton when I lived here. When I’d told Kristoffer I wanted to come home, he’d quickly discovered the option, that Grenier had his hand in all kinds of businesses here, and reached out to him. The man had always struck me as a very odd duck, but I was one too. He’d immediately agreed, and we’d had a flight plan within twenty-four hours. When I’d offer to pay, his assistant had said I could simply owe him a favor.

  What I could do for Grenier, I had no idea. He already had connections in the industry as a close friend of Jamie Morris’s and several other big names, but I didn’t mind. Or, I tried not to. I’d gone through the early years of my life owing “favors” to plenty of photographers and producers, so the idea of owing a man like Grenier didn’t exactly sit well. Thankfully, his reputation was good, and the negative comments I’d heard centered around his brusque approach to personal interactions.

  “That guy.”

  Warrick’s tone sounded irritated, which was a little like the sun darkening on a cloudless day.

  “You don’t like him?”

  He made a noncommittal sound. “I don’t know him personally, but he’s been busy since he showed up on the scene a few years ago. He’s got his hands in all the major businesses, it seems like, with the exception of All Saints and a small group of others. Just makes me feel like he’s planning something or… I don’t know.”

  Warrick struck me as a man who was innately trusting and positive, so the idea that he could mistrust someone without knowing them came as a true shock. “I’ve only heard good things, but I admittedly haven’t dealt with him all that much. It’s usually my assistant talking to his.”

  “Well, point is, sounds like you and Wy won’t get out unless you start traipsing through town. And based on the weather, you won’t be going anywhere for a few days.”

  The thought struck then. Would Warrick be there tonight? “Will you be up at the ranch for the storm?”

  His eyebrows jumped like he knew exactly what I was asking. “Planning to put the moves on my brother and need me out of the way?”

  “I—”

  “I’m just kidding, Calla. Come on. That’s not my business.” He chuckled and shook his head like my horrified attempt to explain was adorable.

  “Okay.” I let out a pent-up laugh. “Good.”

  He shifted the conversation away from me and Wyatt, thankfully, evidently appeased enough about my intentions to let it go. By the time we parked and wandered over to Guac, I’d heard all about how Jane was using the local dating app Wyatt had used, and a little about Warrick’s plans for the boot camp classes, which would start in just a few weeks. Before we reached the place, he waved at a couple locked arm in arm, whistled, told them to get a room. When he turned to me, he winked and said, “Cody and Charlotte are newlyweds.”

  Apparently in Silverton, that meant you got harassed by Warrick Saint after the big day. Duly noted.

  We knocked our boots off inside the door of the restaurant, and I followed Warrick into the bright dining space. The host led us to a booth in the corner where Sarah and Dahlia greeted us with friendly hellos. Sarah’s long golden hair was a stark contrast to Dahlia’s darker features and curly brown hair.

  “Ladies, this is Calla, as you know. I think we’re waiting on—oh, hey!”

  Warrick cut himself off and jogged back toward the entrance where I recognized Sadie Miller standing. He approached, his hands by his side, and his usual rolling, light energy seemed to flatten itself against a wall the closer he got. Since only a few other people sat at tables around the main dining space, we could hear him say, “Why don’t you join the group? You met Calla, and she’s trying to get to know some locals. You might remember Sarah, though I think we were too young for you to—”

  “I have to go, sorry.” She grabbed the bag of takeout the host handed her, turned on her heel, and left. Apparently the take-out window was closed today.

  Warrick scrubbed his hands through his hair, staring after her, then pivoted and walked back toward us. The three of us, who’d unanimously silenced our hellos and watched the scene, flipped around and studied our menus.

  “Thought maybe she’d join, but she’s got plans. Not sure if Quinn can come today. I heard the schools were debating an early release, so that may change her schedule.” He scratched his cheek and gazed out the window where the snow fell, heavy and consistent.

  I hoped we’d get back up the canyon okay.

  “Is she a teacher?”

  “No. Her daughter is in sixth grade, so she’ll have to grab her. Anyway, you ladies enjoy your lunch, and Calla, just text me when you’re ready. I’ll be right around here.” He held up two fingers in a silent farewell, then sauntered out.

  And left me sitting with two women I didn’t know.

  For some reason, I’d expected Warrick to join us. But in retrospect, he’d always talked about it like it was something I’d attend, not that we’d do together. He’d said it was a project he was working on, and I had the sinking sensation the project might be something like get Calla friends or something else.

  “Well, okay then,” Dahlia said, shaking her head of dark curls.

  “So, how are you liking it up at All Sa
ints?” Sarah asked.

  “It’s nice. The place Warrick set up is really great. I think they’ll have a lot of luck renting it when I’m gone.” That thought threatened to drag me down and make me all kinds of sad, so I pressed on. “It’s way up there, though.”

  They both chuckled in agreement.

  “It is. I remember going to see Wilder and feeling like I’d never get there.” Her smile was small, but fond. Not bitter.

  What had happened between them? The Wilder mystery was definitely something I’d wondered about more than once since hearing that whatever had happened between him and Sarah had been the impetus for him to enlist and stay away.

  “I’ve never been to the ranch itself, but I’ve driven by on the way up to the spa.” Dahlia flipped her menu closed just as Quinn shuffled in and slumped into the booth.

  “Sorry I’m late.” She dropped her purse between us, shrugged out of her jacket, and exhaled before turning to me. “You should just know now, I’m a walking disaster. I’m not ashamed of it, but sometimes, it takes people off guard since I’m in my thirties with an almost teenaged child and should really have my crap together by now.”

  A little unevenly shaped piece clicked into place with her words. Somewhere in my chest, a small hole had been filled by Quinn’s disarming words, just like that. Someone else admitting without shame their life was a mess? The closest thing to a magic pill to create friendship with me, evidently.

  Plus, I already liked this woman. We hadn’t talked anything but music, so in a way, this was our first real interaction.

  “Nice to officially meet you. And if you have read a tabloid ever, you know my life’s a dumpster fire, so—hi.” I held out my hand.

  Her broad smile made my heart leap. She took my hand and we shook, then turned back to the table.

  The conversation hummed around me as I searched the menu, but I could hardly read the words. I didn’t know these women, but for the first time in so long I couldn’t remember, I felt like I might just be about to have some real friends.

  I already liked Quinn, and Dahlia and Sarah had both been kind last night and again today. But more than anything, as they each shared a recent foible so Quinn and I knew we weren’t alone in having lives unravelling on all sides, I felt connection. And it wasn’t only with Calla, here in front of them. They knew who I was and what my life looked like, or at least that it was a true mess, and they weren’t scared by it.

  My life had been very different than most people’s. But sitting around the table swapping hilarious stories of failures—mostly small, silly things, but sometimes real, consequential ones—made me realize I had far more in common with these women than I’d ever imagined. It stitched up another tear in me and repaired another fraying edge.

  It made me feel like sitting here in this candy apple red booth eating chips and guacamole with these women was exactly where I belonged.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Wyatt

  Tucking my napkin in my lap, I scooted my chair forward and ignored the insane urge to reach under the table and feel how far her knee was from mine. When Warrick and I sat across from each other, our knees knocked. Calla wasn’t quite as tall, but it couldn’t be far off.

  And I desperately wanted to touch her. Especially after being away from her all day, as though that wasn’t how every other day had gone. But I also wanted to hear about her lunch, because some part of me knew that if she made good friends here, connections beyond me and Warrick, it might make her more likely to stay.

  Setting yourself up for failure there, man. I couldn’t deny it, though. Every second that had ticked by since our kiss had inched me closer to wanting everything from her. The fact that she didn’t have anything to give—not time, or interest, at least—hadn’t stopped that gut-deep longing.

  “So, tell me about the lunch? Did you click with anyone?”

  Her bright smile took over her whole face, and my heart pulsed in response. She finished chewing the first bite of dinner—a winter root hash and pork tenderloin medallions with a salad—and jumped into her review of the day.

  “Definitely clicked with Quinn. We have a lot in common, which is the weirdest thing because I’ve been walking around thinking I was this really unique person.”

  I laughed. “You are pretty unique.”

  She waved that away. “I mean, sure. The events of my life are unique, and maybe my fame is kind of, but as a person, I’m not such a special snowflake.”

  I frowned at that, defensiveness for her rising quickly. “That’s not true. You’re amazing. You’re—”

  “No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s really good. I’m not explaining this right, but it was this lightbulb moment for me in the best way. I often feel pretty isolated and lonely and then ungrateful because I have so much. And today, with Quinn, and even Sarah and Dahlia to a degree, I realized I’m not alone in that.”

  Well, that did sound good. “I’m glad, then. I’m not sure I would’ve guessed those were the ways you found common ground with Quinn.”

  She chuckled. “Well, I’m not a mom. But we did talk music at her shop when we first met, though I could tell they all tried to stay away from that today for my sake. I don’t mind talking about work, but I did like that it didn’t turn into ‘ask Calla music industry questions’ time.”

  “Me too.”

  “And I liked Sarah. She seems so sweet. Dahlia’s great, too—she had to leave pretty quickly after our entrees came so I didn’t get to know her as well.”

  Now that I looked at her, really observed her whole person in general and not her in specific, vivid detail like I tended to see her lately, I could see the buzzing, energetic glow about her.

  “Are you an introvert?” I’d wondered if she was, but this seemed to say otherwise.

  She squinted at the ceiling as she chewed another bite. “I’m not a true introvert, no. But I have to gear up to be around people. I don’t know how a genuinely introverted person could handle the performing and publicity or fame, but I know they’re out there. Sometimes, people energize me, and sometimes, they exhaust me.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “And you’re an introvert.” It wasn’t a question.

  I nodded. “I suppose I am. I am friendly with people, but I only have a handful of truly good friends, and I rarely actually see anyone but family. Takes me time to warm up, and I prefer to observe a while before I dive into social situations.”

  “I can see that. Maybe that’s why you were so grumpy about me moving in.” She winked and took another bite.

  “I wasn’t grumpy.”

  “Oh, okay. Rude, then.”

  I gasped and put a hand to my chest, falsely affronted. “I wasn’t the one checking out my chaps.”

  Her cheeks flamed instantly, and she coughed and swallowed roughly. “I am sorry about that. I think maybe you broke my brain that day.”

  “I broke your brain?”

  Her smile blazed again. “Here I was, an unsuspecting girl arriving after hours of travel to a strange, isolated part of town. Then what do I see but this strapping man, spouting directions and gracing me with a view of his spectacular… chaps.”

  I laughed, big and loud. “You’re a nut. Not a special snowflake, but a cracked little nut.”

  Her pleased grin made my stomach swoop.

  “I won’t deny being a little addled at this point.”

  Good grief, I liked her. That humor and self-deprecation were so damned charming. We beamed at each other until the power flickered and I hopped up. “Let me unplug a few things. You need anything?”

  I rounded the table to look down at her where she sat, and she grabbed my wrist. “No. I’m good.”

  Her hand against my skin sent shots of sensation fanning out from her contact. I nodded and pulled away before I ended up hauling her out of her chair and in for a kiss.

  I hoped we’d get there tonight, but not yet. We’d finish dinner, at least.

  Minutes later, I hustled back down
the hall from my office after unplugging my computer and treadmill, and lastly, the living room TV.

  “I heard someone in town say they were expecting two feet in the next forty-eight hours. Is that really possible?”

  Her gaze followed me as I took my seat.

  “It’s not real common—certainly not something we see every year. But we need the snowfall, and it does create some interesting challenges. When I don’t have to worry about the herds, it makes it more fun and less stressful.”

  Not that I ever had my business entirely out of mind, but the management kept me updated regularly. If it’d just been me here tonight, I probably would’ve been texting them on and off to check in and make sure they’d done all the things they knew to do like a micromanaging idiot. Instead, happily, I had an excellent distraction.

  Maybe she’ll get snowed in here. Wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever happen. Yeah. My mind was nowhere near work tonight.

  “Hmm, yeah. I imagine that’s crazy with livestock. I didn’t really think about getting extra wood or anything. Maybe I should run over and—”

  “I loaded some onto your porch earlier, and we’ve got plenty to share. Worst case, you come here. We’ve got a generator if the grid fails and we lose power.”

  I forbid myself the thought of having her spend the night here. That could absolutely get confusing, and I didn’t want that to happen because of a storm. I wanted it to happen because she couldn’t imagine not spending the night.

  She inhaled deeply, and her nerves registered just as she spoke. “Sorry. I’m not used to weather like this. LA’s pretty placid.”

  “All except fire season and earthquakes.”

  She tilted her head to the side, acquiescing. “Yeah.”

  “And crazy heat indexes and water shortages.”

  Her lips pressed together to stay a smile. “Not always a problem.”

  “And crazy paparazzi and kooky celebrities.”

  “Ah, now those are the real menace to LA society, no doubt.”

  I set my fork and knife to the side of my plate, then leaned back in my chair. Casual delivery was essential for this, so I gave her a half smile, then said, “Guess it’s time to think about moving.”