“Let’s do it,” Nelson said, knowing that going up meant that later he could come down. And eat something more than the protein shake and weird chia-seed granola Maddy had given him that morning.
Nelson pushed through the throbbing of his knee as he climbed. Despite his complaining about the physical therapy, he could feel the recovery starting. The swelling had gone down, and things felt more stable all the way around. He obeyed Maddy and finished off his second water bottle. So by the time they reached the top, then—sure enough—zigzagged to the bottom of the ski slope, Nelson was good and hungry.
They climbed into Maddy’s Subaru Outback—a vehicle that seemed to fit her perfectly. Not so much Nelson. The passenger seat was quite a bit smaller than his truck back in Vegas. A guy like him, over two hundred pounds and six foot four, needed a bit more room than petite Maddy.
Maddy drove out of the ski-resort parking lot, then down the resort drive. They passed several gorgeous cabins that caught Nelson’s attention. Maybe a retreat in an area like this would be nice in the off-season. Some of his teammates had cabins, and he’d been to a couple of them.
Maddy turned onto the main road that would take them through the quaintness that was Pine Valley, their final destination being the bed and breakfast. A place that felt like Nelson had stepped back in time thirty years.
They passed a book shop, then a realty office.
“Hang on,” Nelson said. “There’s a café. Think they serve breakfast?”
Maddy’s eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. “That protein shake should last you another good hour.”
Nelson threw up his hands. “I’m a two-hundred-and-forty-pound athlete. I need more than a protein shake for breakfast.”
Maddy’s lips were still pursed.
“Stop the car, Maddy,” he said. “I’m getting something hot and full of calories.”
She slowed and turned into the handful of parking spots in front of the café.
Nelson put his hand on the door handle. “Want to come?”
“No, thank you.”
“I’ll be inside if you change your mind,” he said, climbing out of the Outback. “Otherwise, I’ll walk back to the bed and breakfast.”
“You shouldn’t walk on concrete,” Maddy said, her tone firm. “It’s not—”
“I know,” Nelson said, leaning back into the car to talk to her. “It’s not a natural surface. But my job is to play hockey on hard ice. So walking on concrete could be considered training, right?”
Maddy’s lips tightened again.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Nelson straightened, then shut the door. Maddy didn’t get out. Fine with him. He had to start taking some initiative, or else he’d go bonkers in this small town. He guessed it to be around eight thirty in the morning. Since one of Maddy’s rules was no phones during training hours, he’d left his in his hotel room.
He’d been in Pine Valley three days now and had yet to eat anything that wasn’t green or fibrous or leafy. The Main Street Café had his name all over it. He pushed through the door, trying not to feel guilty about leaving Maddy in the car. Maybe she’d wait for him, maybe not. He didn’t mind the walk, and he wouldn’t mind the time alone.
The smells hit him like a truck full of goodness. Baking bread, hot coffee, sweet rolls, all rolled into one. It made his brain go a little crazy, and he wondered if the woman at the counter would mind him vaulting over it and scooping about five things into his mouth at once. Instead, he walked to the counter.
“Hi there,” he said.
The woman’s name tag read Sarah Lynne.
“Hello,” Sarah Lynne said with a friendly smile as she looked up at him.
Yeah, he was tall, but it seemed the women in this town were short. Starting with Maddy.
“What’ll you have?”
It took him only seconds to decide. “Coffee, two of those sweet rolls, and your egg breakfast special with a side of hash browns. And can you double the bacon?”
One of her brows arched as she punched in his order on the register.
After paying, he turned to survey the collection of tables. The smell of the café had been so distracting that he hadn’t noticed any of the people. Only one table by the window was occupied by a man and a woman.
The man looked like one of those power-hungry business types. All decked out in a fancy suit. His hair was perfectly styled as if he’d just come from a salon. And the woman sitting across from him wore a slim skirt and pale-colored blouse. Pink? Peach? She also wore some of those incredibly high heels that only few could pull off. They could be used as a weapon if wielded. Her dark hair was pulled into an elegant ponytail, and she was playing with a gold chain at her neck.
And she was crying.
Not sobbing, crying her heart out, but her eyes were rimmed in red, and she clearly looked distressed.
The guy sitting across from her had a hard look in his eyes, as if he was angry or something. Classic jerk.
Maybe it was because Nelson hadn’t had a decent meal in days or because he’d been up since 5:00 a.m. enduring nature torture, but he strode over to the table and hauled the fancy-suit man up by the lapels.
Okay, the guy was tall too. And built. But nothing compared to Nelson’s sculpted hockey-player build.
“What the hell are you doing?” the guy said, his brown eyes flashing.
“I could ask the same of you,” Nelson growled. “Can’t you see that the woman is upset? Maybe you should leave her alone.”
“Maybe you should leave us alone,” the man said, his deep voice one of authority.
It seemed he thought he was something special.
Nelson dragged the guy closer until they were almost nose to nose. “Can’t do that. I don’t like what I’m seeing.”
“Hey.” The woman was standing now. “Nothing’s wrong. Dawson’s a friend, and we’re having a private conversation.”
Without letting go of “Dawson,” Nelson turned his head to gaze down at the woman. Up close, he saw that she had the palest of freckles dotted across her nose. Her eyes were a clear blue, and she smelled like some sort of sweet perfume.
“Let go of me,” Dawson said. “I’m a lawyer, and you’re about two seconds away from getting sued.”
Nelson snapped his gaze back to the man. “Of course you’re a lawyer. Part of the worst species on earth.”
“I’m a lawyer too,” the woman said, her voice calm, even. “And Dawson is helping me through a difficult situation. I’m sorry if you thought something else was going on.”
Dawson didn’t move. Nelson didn’t move. Then, slowly, Nelson uncurled his fingers and released the man’s suit coat. He stepped back. He looked over at the woman again. Her gaze was open and honest, and although there were still traces of her crying, somehow he believed she wasn’t just trying to cover up for a bully of a boyfriend.
“Sorry about that, ma’am,” he said, flexing his fingers because all kinds of tension still rippled through him. “It’s been a hell of a week.”
The woman blinked, and Nelson wondered if she was wearing mascara or if her eyelashes were normally that thick and dark. Of course they’d be dark, because her hair was nearly black . . .
“I understand,” she said. “I’ve had one of those weeks too. Obviously.”
Dawson folded his arms, drawing Nelson’s attention again.
“And I apologize to you as well, sir,” Nelson continued. “In fact, I’ll buy you both your next round of coffee.”
Dawson stepped back. “I’ve got to get to court.” He cast a glance at the woman. “Do you want a ride back to the office?”
“No,” she said. “I’m going to finish my report, then go hit up the bed and breakfast. Maybe take a nap. I’ll move into the office this afternoon.”
Nelson frowned. Were they law partners, then? Something more? Not that it was any of his business, and just then, Sarah Lynne called out that his food was ready. As he walked to the counter to fetch it, he overheard Dawson ask
the woman if she was sure she didn’t want a ride.
She murmured something to him, and by the time Nelson had sat down and arranged his food, the guy had left.
Nelson was starving, but the woman had pulled out a tissue from her purse and wiped at her cheeks.
When she glanced over at him, he realized he’d been staring.
“Sorry,” he said. “I should be minding my own business.” He picked up the fork and waved it toward the door. “Didn’t mean to interfere with you and your boyfriend. I guess I overreacted.”
The woman lowered her hand and tilted her head. Her blue eyes scanned him thoroughly. Nelson wondered if he was covered in pine needles and bits of dead leaves. Not to mention some mud. He probably didn’t smell too great either.
“I think overreacting is putting it mildly,” she said at last.
But Nelson didn’t see annoyance in her gaze or hear frustration in her tone of voice. In fact, the edge of her very pretty mouth lifted just slightly.
And her tears seemed to be gone. That was good enough for him.
“Sorry again,” Nelson said, and since he’d apologized plenty, it was time to eat. He dug in to the eggs, mixed them into the hash browns, and took his first bite. He chewed and swallowed, then scooped up the next forkful. It seemed there was a little bit of heaven in Pine Valley after all.
The Neanderthal sitting across the café from Lindsey kept stealing glances at her.
Lindsey might be typing up her report on her laptop, but she was aware of every bite he took of his giant-sized breakfast, every sip he took of his coffee, every glance in her direction, and the way his size and personality seemed to fill the entire café.
She’d thought Dawson was a tall, broad-shouldered guy, but this other guy . . . this mountain of a man was . . . huge. She wondered if he worked for one of those construction crews at the resort. Or maybe he was passing through—or else wouldn’t he at least know that Dawson was the lawyer in Pine Valley? The two men certainly didn’t know each other.
When he’d first entered the café, his mud-caked boots had clomped on the floor, and he hadn’t seemed to notice that bits of leaves had fallen from his clothing as he moved to the counter. Lindsey had just finished telling Dawson that she’d decided to file a lawsuit against her old law firm. If she didn’t, then she had no doubt that the next female lawyer hired would endure similar harassment.
Lindsey’s emotions had been all over the place this past week as she emailed her resignation, cleared out her apartment so she could sublease it, loaded her stuff into a rented van, then drove the two hours to Pine Valley. Dawson already knew most of the story, but he’d wanted to meet for breakfast before the day started to get her the keys to her new office. He’d been a godsend, and she’d just finished spilling out her regrets when Mountain Man had decided to drag Dawson to his feet and pick a fight.
Lindsey had been shocked at first, but then she’d jumped to her feet to defuse the situation. Luckily, both men had backed down immediately. And Lindsey had never felt so . . . protected. No, that wasn’t the right word. She didn’t know Mountain Man at all. Could only guess at who he was. But apparently all men weren’t Paul. Some men were like Dawson. Some men weren’t afraid to defend a woman.
And this one man in particular looked as if he could eat a bear for breakfast, if his current meal was any indication.
He looked up from his plate, and their gazes connected. Lindsey realized she’d been staring at Mountain Man for several moments. His eyes were a murky blue, almost a gray color, reminding her of the morning fog back in San Francisco.
She looked away, her skin heating into what could soon become a full blush if she wasn’t careful. The guy had one of those strong jaws, his nose was slightly crooked at the top, and his hair . . . Well, the dirty-blond mop on top of his head was somehow sexy, even though she was pretty sure he’d been wearing a beanie before coming into the café.
Lindsey typed out the next paragraph of her report. She was detailing all her experiences at the firm over the last six months. She hoped to finish it today, while everything was fresh in her mind. Dawson had agreed to file the suit for her, and then she hoped to move on, permanently. She didn’t know if Pine Valley was where she’d stay forever, but she’d committed to a one-year lease agreement.
It would give her time to get her feet back on the ground. Redefine her goals in life and move forward from the months, and possibly years, of feeling like she was never good enough. That she had to work twice as hard, twice as smart, and twice as long just to prove that she was a good lawyer.
Her eyes burned, and she blinked rapidly. She’d cried enough, and it was time to move on from that too. Lindsey typed out the next paragraph, but she wasn’t focusing like she should be. His gaze was on her again. She didn’t need her peripheral vision to tell her that.
Exhaling slowly, she debated what to do . . . As she saw it, she had three choices. One, introduce herself, two, ignore him, three . . . She couldn’t think of a third. A couple of people had come and gone from the café, ordering to-go muffins or coffee. But now, it was just her and Mountain Man. Even the clerk, Sarah Lynne, had gone into the back room for something. Lindsey lifted her gaze again and looked over at Neanderthal.
He didn’t look away this time. And neither did she.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked.
His voice was lower, huskier, than Dawson’s. And he was still worried about her. She didn’t know what to think about that.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “What about you?”
One of his brows lifted a fraction, but he didn’t answer. He seemed to be too busy studying her.
“You said you’d had a hell of a week,” she prompted.
His brow relaxed. “Yeah. I’m in some intense physical therapy for an injury, which apparently includes a diet plan of eating like a squirrel.”
She scanned him and tried to remember if he’d appeared injured or lame at any point in time. No, she decided. “What happened?”
He hesitated.
Now he was reluctant to talk?
“I mean, from my viewpoint, you don’t look all that injured,” Lindsey said. “You trudged in here, then stormed over and nearly got into a fistfight.”
He didn’t look chagrined, at all. “My knee. Grade-one medial collateral ligament sprain. Sounds worse than it is. And I have a claustrophobia problem. Found that out in the MRI.”
This guy was not afraid to share information. “So you’re in physical therapy but still tried to take on Dawson Harris?”
He shrugged. “I don’t always make the best decisions. All I know is that it’s been a pain in the as—uh, rear end—dealing with this injury.”
Lindsey shut the lid of her laptop. Did he just correct his language? “Trying to cut back on swearing?”
“I am.” His eyes had lightened a shade, from a dark fog to more of a morning mist.
She couldn’t believe that she felt like laughing. It had been a long time. She had the sudden urge to tease him. “Because you’re around ladies?”
He glanced over at the counter, where Sarah Lynne was rearranging the muffins and donuts. Then he rose, and with Lindsey still sitting, he seemed even taller than she remembered. She watched as he trudged over in those boots, and well, she couldn’t help notice how nicely his faded jeans fit. He sat at the table next to hers, which put him in much closer proximity.
“Here’s the thing,” he said in a lowered voice, his gray eyes trained on hers. “I’m trying to cut out all the negative words for a couple of weeks. Part of the holistic healing process, you know. At least that’s what Maddy tells me.”
“Your holistic trainer?”
“The very one.”
The fact that this hulk of a guy would listen to anyone was quite amusing. “So you can’t swear?”
“No.”
“Or say anything negative?”
“Well . . . not about myself,” he said.
“But if you saw
an upset woman, you’d take action despite your injury?”
His mouth twitched.
She almost smiled.
“I’m Nelson,” he said, extending his hand.
She looked at his large hand, sighed, then put her hand in his. They slowly shook. “Lindsey Gerber. Do you have a last name, Nelson?”
“I go by my last name.” He still hadn’t released her hand.
And she found she didn’t mind. His hand was large, warm, strong, but gentle too. “What’s your first name?”
“Tyler,” he said. “Or Ty. Everyone calls me Nelson, though.”
“Okay, Nelson,” she said. They should probably release hands. “I go by Lindsey. Not Lind. Not Lin. And definitely not Gerber.”
He smiled then, and Lindsey was glad she was sitting down. His smile had probably melted hearts. Not hers, of course, but definitely other women’s hearts.
“I like Lindsey the best out of those choices, so don’t worry,” he said.
“Why would I be worried?” she asked, drawing her hand away from his.
“Because we’ll probably cross paths again, since we’re staying at the same bed and breakfast.”
That debunked her view of him as a construction worker. “You don’t live here?”
“Nope. I’m on a pseudo physical therapy holistic-and-all-natural wilderness retreat.”
He’d stated it so matter-of-factly, yet it sounded . . . strange. She felt like smiling. “I’ve never heard of that . . . what did you call it?”
“Pseudo—”
She put her hand on his arm, because they were sitting close enough to touch. “It’s okay, you don’t have to repeat it.”
His lips twitched. “Good.”
She smiled. Then laughed.
He watched her, amusement sparking in those gray eyes of his.
And . . . her hand was still on his arm, where all she felt was solid muscle beneath her fingers. Who was this guy?
She really should stop touching him. “So how did you get injured, Nelson?” Was she really chatting up this guy, Nelson? Who went by their last name anyway?
All for You Page 2