by Stacy Finz
He didn’t know when it had happened, but she’d become a distraction. Not just her looks, which, yeah, totally did it for him, but she didn’t take his shit. With the exception of his parents and Maddy, everyone took his shit. But Sam stood up to him. And he liked that. A lot.
The truth: He was starting to like everything about her. Her expressive blue eyes, her perfectly pressed outfits, even her cockamamie scheme to sue her father. And he needed his head examined, because being attracted to Samantha Dunsbury was a disaster waiting to happen. Hell, hadn’t he learned his lesson from the last rich, flighty, schizophrenic woman he’d fallen for?
So he smiled back and ducked into Maddy’s living room. A bunch of kids were in there playing video games, and Nate considered joining them. But then he remembered that Rhys was waiting on the beer.
When he came back outside, Sam had relinquished Emma to Maddy and asked Nate if he wanted help. She followed him to a big metal trough filled with ice and drinks and together they made room for the beer. He struggled to find something to say, which was weird, because he’d never had trouble making conversation with women before.
Finally, he settled on, “You got a haircut.”
“Yes.” She let out a nervous laugh. Apparently he wasn’t the only one feeling tongue-tied. “Just a trim.”
“It looks nice.”
“Thanks.” She self-consciously ran her fingers through the back of her hair. “Would it be a terrible faux pas to talk shop?”
“No. I don’t mind.” And he really didn’t, unless Sam was pulling a Kayla, who’d always become manic about her latest obsession. For a time, her obsession had been him. But like with everything else, when Kayla got bored, she’d tossed him away like an old toy. Nate suspected that Sam’s latest obsession was the inn.
“After you told me about the bridal expo, I did a little research,” she said, growing animated. “There is another one in Sacramento in mid-May. I was thinking that I should go to that one too. A lot of our guests come from Sacramento. It seems like a wonderful opportunity for the inn.”
“Sure,” he said, and grinned. The problem with manic people was that their enthusiasm was infectious—at least in the beginning, before they jumped to the next fixation . . . and the next one . . . and the next one after that.
“So you don’t mind if I go? It’ll just be one day. I could go the night before—”
“Sam, I said yes. You can go. However you want to do it. It’s fine with me.”
“Does this mean you’re starting to trust me?”
Nate shook his head. “Nope. I think this is a game to you. But you’re making us money, so I’ll play.”
“You’re a cynic, Nate Breyer.”
He certainly was that. And she was a temptress. “Okay,” he said. “No more shoptalk.”
She looked around the yard at the paper lanterns Maddy had strung through the trees. “It’s a lovely party.”
“Yep. Pretty low-key.” She smelled good, like expensive perfume. But she hadn’t doused herself in it, the way some women did. “My parents used to throw something similar in Madison every spring.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Can’t you hear the Wisconsin accent?” He said it like Wuh-skaaaahn-sin.
She laughed again. “You sound like you’re from California to me. How long have you lived here?”
“I came out right after graduate school, about ten years ago. A guy I knew was opening a hotel. He wanted me to be his general manager. But the place turned out to be a giant headache. Investors pulled out at the last minute and the place was swimming in debt. You name it, and it went wrong. So I eventually quit and started my own hotel management company.”
“Is this what you always wanted to do?”
“Actually, I wanted to play first base for the Brewers, but I got cut in the minors.”
“Really?”
“No.” He smiled. “I always wanted to run hotels, like my parents. How ’bout you?”
Her face lost that happy glow. “Nothing. It never occurred to me that I could be anything other than a Dunsbury. My whole life I thought that should be enough, and then suddenly I realized that it never was and it never could be.”
It’s not what Nate had expected to hear. He’d been prepared for her to tick off all the interests she’d pursued and then dropped to chase the next shiny dime. Unfortunately, he didn’t know which life was sadder—the one where you were satisfied with nothing, or the one where nothing satisfied you.
“So”—she lit up again—“here I am, starting over. And every day I feel more fulfilled than I did the day before. It’s wonderful.”
Then she did this happy little twirl thing and he felt something tighten in his gut—and groin. He chalked it up to the fact that like everything else about her he was turned on by her passion. Nothing wrong with feeling a little lust, he told himself. Not as long as he didn’t act on it. He could look his fill, just not touch. Because Nate knew from experience that touching would be an instant death knell.
“Oh”—she peered over his shoulder—“there’s Emily. I need to talk to her about something.”
And as he watched her walk away, those jeans hugging that sweet ass, a realization struck him like a ten-ton truck.
I’m a dead man.
The next night, Nate went to Sophie and Mariah’s house for dinner. While the women worked in the kitchen, he got to feed Lilly and put her down for the night in her crib. For a while, he just stood there watching her sleep, her tiny chest moving up and down as she softly snored. His beautiful little girl.
Correction: Sophie and Mariah’s beautiful little girl. He needed to keep reminding himself of that important fact.
So to distract himself, Nate stared up at the open-beamed ceiling. The house was fairly new, built to Sophie and Mariah’s specifications. And he had to say, the one-level contemporary had exceeded all of their expectations. It was frigging magnificent, with sweeping views of the Sierra, big, open interior spaces, and a stone fireplace large enough to spit-roast a pig.
He left Lilly’s bedroom, careful to shut the door quietly, and made his way into the great room. Colin’s furniture pieces were sprinkled throughout the house, including bookcases, which lined the massive foyer wall and were filled with Sophie and Mariah’s books. A lot of personality here.
He made himself comfortable in one of their leather club chairs, reflecting on how Sophie and Mariah had made a nice life for themselves. Up until almost three years ago, the women had lived in the Bay Area. Sophie had been a high-powered marketing executive and Mariah had founded a tech start-up. Both had made a shitload of money and wanted out of the rat race. So they’d bought the Ponderosa, moved to Nugget, and completely revamped the restaurant-bowling alley. The only thing missing in their life had been a baby. They’d gone to a sperm bank, but Sophie had been conflicted about using a stranger’s DNA to father their child.
That’s when Nate had offered to be their baby’s daddy. He and Sophie had been best friends for years. They’d met while Nate had been dating her younger sister; the two of them hadn’t stuck, but Sophie had. Nate wound up hiring Sophie to do the marketing for all of his hotels and the two of them became pals. When Sophie married Mariah, Nate was the best man at their wedding. And when they wanted a baby, he knew he was the best man for that, too.
Now he was second-guessing that choice, even though he knew that no one could ask for better parents than Sophie and Mariah. They loved Lilly with all their hearts. And that baby had a piece of both of them, since it had been Mariah’s eggs and Sophie’s uterus that had made her.
But Nate was just as much a part of Lilly and was having trouble figuring out where he fit into their family. That was the thing; this was their family. If he wanted one, he needed to get his own. The experts had told them that this might happen, and Mariah had all but predicted it. But Nate had promised that Lilly would be Sophie and Mariah’s and he had to stick to his word.
“Hey”—Mari
ah leaned over the counter and called to him—“dinner is ready.”
Nate made his way into the kitchen and opened the bottle of wine he’d brought. “I guess I should’ve let it breathe.”
Sophie hitched her shoulders. “A little late now, because I’m not waiting.” She poured herself a glass and filled one for him and Mariah. “Mmm. Nice.” She looked at the label. “You didn’t get this at the Nugget Market.”
“Nope. It’s from my own private stash.”
“Meaning, you stole it from one of your hotels,” Mariah said.
“You know it.” He helped himself to salad, chicken, and rice. “Looks good.”
They sat down at Colin’s big farm table, which Sophie had set with her usual elegance. Mariah put on some music. Lyle Lovett.
“This is nice,” he said.
“I feel like with the construction of the house, and Lilly, we haven’t done this in a while.” Sophie topped off his wineglass.
“Nope,” he said.
“I’ve missed it.” She topped Mariah’s glass too.
Mariah laughed. “Are you trying to get us drunk?”
“Moi? Never.” And then, because Sophie pulled no punches, she said, “What’s the deal with you and Samantha Dunsbury? It seems to me that you’ve been holding out on us.”
“What are you talking about?” He got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen.
“We saw you two looking pretty cozy at the barbecue yesterday,” Mariah called to him over the counter.
“You guys are high. We were talking about work.”
“What about work?” Sophie wanted to know.
“She wants to pimp the Lumber Baron at a wedding fair in Sacramento.”
“That’s a great idea,” Sophie said as Nate took his seat again at the table.
“Not exactly original. We’re having one at the Belvedere. That’s how she got the idea. But, yeah, it can’t hurt.”
“From what Maddy says she’s signed quite a few events, including Landon Lowery’s.” Sophie leaned over to high-five him. “Fantastic news.”
“Mariah, do you know him?” He figured all the tech people knew each other. It was the same in the hospitality industry.
“Nah. He’s way after my time. What is he, twelve?”
Nate laughed. “Yeah. Something like that. Says ‘dude’ a lot. But he likes Sam, that’s for sure.”
“Well, what’s not to like?” Sophie said. “She’s lovely.”
Nate knew where this was going. She and Mariah were always on his ass to get serious with a woman and settle down.
“You like her?” Mariah, like her partner in crime, never beat around the bush.
He’d like to do her. There was a difference. “She’s my employee. She just broke up with her fiancé and she’s not my type.”
“Ooh,” Mariah said. “Do you know why she dumped the guy? If so, do tell. I have a bet with Owen.”
Nate looked at her and shook his head. “With Owen?”
“Whatever the reason,” Sophie interrupted, “Sam’s no longer with him, which makes her available. As far as the employee thing . . .” She waved her hand in the air as if there weren’t workplace rules about having sex with a subordinate. “And she is too your type.”
“Really? What’s my type, Soph?”
“Beautiful women with big boobs and brains. And Sam’s a sweetheart to boot.”
“When did you two become bosom buddies?”
“I wouldn’t say we’re bosom buddies. But I like her. You like her too, right, Mariah?”
“I do,” Mariah said. “I give her a lot of credit for starting over the way she has. Especially in a town like this—not your typical milieu for a woman like her. But she seems to fit right in.”
“Well, I’m not in the market for a spoiled rich girl, even if she’s slumming it with the rest of us.”
Sophie reached for his hand. “It’s time to let what happened between you and Kayla go, Nate. It’s been ten years. If you’re not into Sam, you’re not into her. But don’t compare her to Kayla just because both women come from similar backgrounds.” Then she looked at him like she could see right inside his head. “I’ve seen you with a lot of women, Nate. But yesterday, with Sam, it was different. The current between the two of you was so strong, I could feel the charge clear across the yard. That kind of chemistry is hard to find. Don’t ignore it because you hold a decade-old grudge against someone who bears a few likenesses to Sam.”
Sophie tended to be overly romantic. He didn’t know what she’d seen at Maddy and Rhys’s barbecue, but whatever it was, Sophie had read too much into it. Sam was hot. Any single guy would’ve spent his time talking to her, hoping to get lucky.
That wasn’t electricity Sophie felt clear across the yard, that was hormones.
In May, Nate went to San Francisco and left Sam in charge of the Lumber Baron. He said he would be back in time to relieve her for the bridal fair in Sacramento. But oddly, the place felt lonely without him breathing down her neck.
One afternoon, Harlee and Darla came over and the three of them ate Emily’s breakfast leftovers in the kitchen.
“How are the McCreedy wedding plans coming along?” Harlee asked, pouring herself a second cup of coffee.
“Good,” Sam said. “We picked out the table linens yesterday. I talked her into these beautiful flouncy floral tablecloths—very British countryside. I think it might be the most gorgeous wedding ever.”
“Hey,” Harlee called out. “What about mine and Colin’s?” Their wedding would be in August.
Sam smiled mischievously. “I’ll have to up my game for yours, since I didn’t realize it was a competition. Please tell me you ordered the dress.”
“Done. And I picked out the bridesmaids’ dresses for Darla, my brother’s wife, and Colin’s sister, Fiona. Darla loves them, don’t you, Darla?”
“I do, even though they’re a little subdued for my taste.” One of those crazy fascinator hats with a bird bath on it would be too subdued for Darla’s taste.
“Good,” Sam said. “We’ve got to get going on your invitations.”
“My mom is coming next weekend. Maybe we can do it then.”
“Uh-uh,” Sam said. “I’m in Sacramento for a wedding fair. Oh my gosh, you guys should come. It’ll be a great way for you to look at all the vendors, everything from party favors to DJs. You can stay in the hotel with me.”
Harlee’s eyes danced with excitement. “I’ll cancel my mom and tell her to come the following weekend.”
A wedding fair to a bride-to-be was like Christmas to a child. Sam hadn’t gone to any while engaged to Royce. Not all that strange, given their situation.
“You in, Darla?” Harlee asked.
“I’m booked all Saturday with hair appointments and I promised to spend Sunday with Wyatt. He’ll be upset if I cancel.”
Harlee looked momentarily disappointed, but said, “I’ll send you pictures from the fair. You can text me yea or nay.”
“Sounds good.” Darla cut her muffin down the middle and gave half of it to Sam. “I’m trying to diet. Did you guys hear Lucky Rodriguez is coming back?”
“Who’s Lucky Rodriguez?” Harlee asked.
“Uh, world champion bull rider and the most famous person to ever hail from Nugget. Not to mention a hunk of burning love.”
“World champion bull rider, huh? Sounds like a good feature story.” Harlee pulled a reporter’s notebook from her purse. “Do you know how to reach him?”
“No, but he’s buying the old Roland summer camp on the other side of town. You can drive by and see if he’s around.”
Harlee whipped out her phone, searched Lucky Rodriguez on Google and showed the picture that came up to Darla. “Is this him?”
“Yep.” Darla waggled her brows and handed the phone to Sam for a look-see.
“Oh my,” she uttered, because the man was quite nice-looking.
“Why’s he coming back? And where’s he been?” Harlee, the consumma
te reporter, asked.
“I guess he’s been traveling with the PBR. I don’t know why he’s coming back; maybe he’s retiring. He’s getting kind of old for that stuff.”
“What’s the PBR?” Sam asked.
“Professional Bull Riders,” Darla and Harlee said in unison.
“It’s dangerous, isn’t it?” It had certainly looked death-defying at the one and only rodeo Sam had attended.
“Uh, yeah.” Darla finished her own muffin half, grabbed back the piece she’d put on Sam’s plate, and took a big bite. “They’re so good.”
“He’s actually buying the property?” Harlee asked.
With her mouth full, Darla said, “That’s what I was told. My dad heard that he’s opening a dude ranch.”
“Really?” Sam said. She didn’t know much about dude ranches, but she did know that they entailed lodging, which could be competition for the Lumber Baron. Jeez, she’d only been here four months and already she felt proprietary. When had that happened?
Darla nodded. “But you know how gossip works in this town. Half of it is usually wrong.”
“But it makes sense,” Harlee chimed in. “Why else would he buy such a big place? I saw it once when I went out on a story. It has a big lodge and a bunch of outbuildings.”
The phone rang. Andy had gone out to lunch, leaving Sam to mind the store. “I need to get that. Don’t say anything important until I get off the phone.”
She grabbed the phone in the kitchen. “Lumber Baron Inn.”
“What took you so long?” Nate barked.
The man was so moody, but stupidly she liked hearing his voice. “Give me a break. I’m here alone.” Unless she counted Harlee and Darla. “What’s up?”
“Just checking on things. Everything okay?”
“Yes. Hold on a second.” She took the phone to her office. “Do you know a Lucky Rodriguez?”
Nate went quiet on the other end. “No. But the name sounds familiar. What about him?”
“He rides bulls for something called the PBJ.”
“PBR.” Nate laughed. “So?”