Haley's Mountain Man

by Tracy Madison

  “A ‘blind gathering-of-friends’? That isn’t a real thing.”

  “It is so a real thing!” Now, anyway. “And how would you know? When’s the last time you went out with anyone other than your buddies from work...or one of us?”

  Dylan, of course, chose that second to join the bedlam. “Dad needs you, Mom.”

  “Well, of course he does,” their mom said with a soft chuckle, making her way toward the door. “I need him, too. That’s what makes marriage so lovely.”

  The second she left the kitchen, Reid said, “Hey, Dylan, have you ever heard of something called a ‘blind gathering-of-friends’?”

  “Um. No? Is that a trick question?” Dylan walked over and took the chair next to Reid. “That can’t be a real thing, can it? Doesn’t sound like a real thing to me.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think it is, either. But Haley swears it is, and she’s been behaving weirdly ever since she came down those stairs.”

  “Is that so? Weird in what way, exactly?”

  Haley set aside the very real desire to clobber both of them over their heads, and instead tuned them out. Completely. Let them yammer on about whatever. She was blissful. Purely blissful, and even their annoying big-brother routines wouldn’t drag her down. Not tonight, anyway. So, she waited them out while keeping track of the time.

  They were, she decided for not the first time in her life, ridiculously handsome men. Cole, too, but he wasn’t here at the moment, directly in her line of vision. Reid and Cole had inherited Paul Foster’s darker-than-brown-but-not-all-the-way-black hair and rich, swoon-worthy—or so she’d been told by many of her friends—brown eyes. They were spitting images of their father, which also meant they looked like each other.

  She and Dylan, on the other hand, took after their mother with their sometimes brown, sometimes auburn, sometimes somewhere-in-between hair—depending on how much time they’d spent in the sun—and honey-brown-to-sage-green eyes, depending on the intensity of their moods. All four siblings had the Foster build, though: tall, lean muscle and the ability to eat just about anything without gaining an ounce...or becoming ill.

  Stomachs of steel, as their father liked to say.

  Yes, her brothers were handsome men. Not as handsome as Gavin, though. Not even close. How she wished she was spending the evening with him, and not some teacher named Matt. Maybe, if dinner didn’t go too long, she’d... No. She couldn’t barge in again so quickly.

  Gavin had made himself quite clear in that regard. She sighed, twisted a lock of hair around her finger. Sighed again. Thought about when she might see him, kiss him, next.

  “I know what’s wrong with her,” Dylan said, his shocked voice breaking into her daydreams and forcing her out of her feigned indifference. “She has all the signs.”

  “What signs would those be?” Reid asked, again focusing his attention on Haley. “All I see is... Well, she’s flushed, I guess. Seems jittery. Maybe she’s coming down with the flu?”

  “I am not ill,” she said. “This is a kitchen, it’s warm in here.”

  “Uh-huh.” Dylan braced his elbows on the table, his jaw in his hands, and appraised her. “Warm in here, sure, but that doesn’t explain the mooning eyes, your weirdness, or your unwillingness to admit you have a date tonight. Assuming, of course, that Reid is not behaving out of character and everything he’s said is true.”

  “Oh, dear Lord. I think you’re right,” Reid murmured, apparently catching on to what Dylan was alluding to. “I don’t have the energy for this.”

  “Both of you need to get a life, because really, there is nothing wrong with me! And there are no signs!” Another round of heat blasted her cheeks, radiated to her ears and neck. Nervous and frustrated, she fussed with her hair, wrapped her finger around some and twisted. “And what in the heck are ‘mooning eyes,’ anyway?”

  “Dreamy,” Dylan said.

  “Dreamy?” Reid asked. “I was thinking more along the lines of vacant.”

  “Nah, vacant would be dull. Her eyes are bright, darker than normal. But bright. A bit hazy, too. As if her body is here but her head is somewhere else, which is why dreamy works.”

  “Er, I don’t know. They look sort of stormy now.”

  “Well, that’s because she’s mad at us now,” Dylan said. “But a second ago? Dreamy.”

  Reid expelled a loud breath, combed his fingers through his hair. “We could be wrong.”

  “No. We’re not wrong,” Dylan said somberly, barely hiding a laugh. “She’s either fallen in love or is falling in love. Who’s the date with again?”

  “Matt. Some teacher who works with Suzette. But Haley said she hasn’t met him yet.”

  Haley clamped her mouth shut. This was one of their tricks. They’d talk around her, as if she weren’t even there, and inevitably, when she couldn’t stand their annoying routine for another second, she’d let something slip. Nope, she would not respond. Would. Not. She’d done enough damage as it was. Far too late for any attempts at mitigation.

  “Well, if that’s true,” Dylan said, “who’s the guy?”

  “Yup, that’s the question.” Reid closed his eyes, swore softly. Opening them again, he shook his head in a resigned manner. “Who is he, Haley? If not this teacher, then who? You might as well bring us into the loop now. We’ll find out eventually, anyway.”

  “We will. We have ways of making you talk,” Dylan said in a poor imitation of a German accent. Then, when she still didn’t respond, he turned toward Reid. “Between you, me and Cole, we could start following her around. One of us could bunk at the apartment for a while.”

  He was teasing. Probably, he was teasing. But the threat alone was enough to push her over the edge. “I don’t know what you’re both going on about, but I don’t have time to deal with your―your ridiculous, half-baked delusions right now,” she said, waving the water bottle in front of her. “I have a―a blind gathering-of-friends to get to. And such a thing does exist!”

  With that, she turned on her heel and strode for the back exit with as much dignity as she could pull together. Which, okay, wasn’t all that much. Ignored the muffled laughter she recognized as Dylan’s, the less-muffled curse she recognized as Reid’s, opened, walked through and then slammed the door shut behind her.

  Her brothers were onto her. Mostly, she knew, because of her epic inability to keep her emotions undercover. Two freaking weeks. She’d managed to go fourteen measly days without any interference. Was it enough? She reached her car and stomped her foot in a childish release of her frustration. She should’ve stayed in her apartment.

  Too late to fix what was already done. Everything was about to get a heck of a lot stickier, because her brothers wouldn’t let this drop. And Reid was right. Eventually, they’d figure out who had her all hot and bothered, and when they did...

  Sighing, she stomped her foot again and let herself into her car. Sat for a minute, finished off her water and when there was nothing left to do, started the ignition. She’d have to warn Gavin. There really wasn’t any other choice. She just hoped she’d be able to prepare him for the invasion of the Fosters. And that he’d somehow decide she was worth all the trouble.

  She really, really hoped he’d decide that.

  Chapter Eight

  As Gavin walked toward Foster’s Pub and Grill, he mentally went through his prepared speech. While working that day, he’d gotten it into his head to take a move from Haley’s playbook and stop by, say hi. See if she might like to join him for a meal. Maybe even a movie. Chances were high she would, seeing how she liked to remain open to the possibilities.

  Assuming she was free, of course.

  And he wanted to try, wanted to discover how such a thing felt, and he wanted her to know that he’d listened to what she’d had to say on this topic. That he considered her opinion important. But
that didn’t make the doing effortless. Especially difficult since she lived upstairs from her family’s restaurant—a fact he’d learned last night—so, unless she happened to be somewhere he could see her, he’d have to ask for her.

  When he reached the restaurant, he found himself walking straight past the entrance, not quite ready to do what he’d decided to do. On his second pass, he did the same exact thing. All in all, he traveled the entire block a total of three times—in both directions—before he was able to force his legs to stop at the door. Inhaled and pushed the door open, walked in.

  Took a quick look around to situate himself, saw no sign of Haley. Lots of other folks, though, in the raised bar area and seated at the tables in the large room. Lots of activity and chatter. He relaxed a tad. In this case, lots of people were good. If the room were nearly empty, asking after Haley would be heard by just about everyone.

  He’d still have asked, even though that would’ve been all sorts of awkward. This was better. Made him less self-conscious by a large margin.

  Since he didn’t want to take a table, he went directly to the bar. Stood at the end, somewhat to the side, and waited. Recognized one of Haley’s brothers—Dylan, he thought his name was—and the senior Foster, Haley’s father. Paul? Yes, his name was Paul. Well. Gavin would’ve preferred speaking to a nonfamily member, but he’d known this was a possibility. It was a family-owned business, after all.

  Curious, he watched the men work behind the vintage, well-polished oak bar. The space behind the bar was long and somewhat narrow, but their movements were easy and effortless. They wove up and down, back and forth, keeping up a running commentary with each other and their customers. Sociable, charming, friendly. Exactly what every good bartender should be.

  And while Gavin wasn’t a huge fan of bars, or alcohol in general, he liked what he saw. Thought he’d probably like them, too.

  Paul Foster caught his eye and approached with a genial smile. Wiping his hands on the white bar-rag looped over his belt, he said, “Welcome to Foster’s. What can I get you? We have draft on special tonight, if you’re a beer drinker.”

  “I am. Every so often,” Gavin lied, returning the smile. “At the moment, though, I’m looking for Haley. She mentioned I might find her here, and—” he coughed to clear his throat “—well...I was wondering if she was around.”

  An assessing flash of curiosity entered the older man’s brown eyes, but his smile didn’t wane or falter. Nor did his friendly nature. “She was here earlier. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of her in a while, though. Give me a minute, and I’ll check. What’s your name?”

  “Gavin,” Gavin said, reaching out to shake Paul’s hand. “Gavin Daugherty.”

  “Well, it’s good to meet you, Gavin,” Paul replied. “I’m Paul, Haley’s father, and any friend of hers is always welcome here.” Then, pivoting slightly, he called out, “Son, do you know if your sister’s in the back or upstairs? Or...mind running and checking for me?”

  “Don’t mind, but don’t have to,” Haley’s brother responded as he pulled beer from the tap. “She had a date tonight. Left...oh, close to an hour ago, I’d say.”

  “There you have it,” Paul said, facing Gavin again. “Not sure how late she’ll be, but I can leave her a message. Tell her you stopped in or anything else you’d like.”

  Gavin nodded and tried to act normal. Tried not to show how staggered he was by the news that Haley was out on a date. “That would be fine,” he said, keeping his voice even. “Just tell her I came by and we’ll catch up later.” And then, because he felt as if he needed to offer some type of a reason for his visit, said, “She had some ideas about promotional material for my business. I have a few follow-up questions, but I can easily send her an email.”

  “Our Haley is a real dynamo in that regard,” Paul said, his fatherly pride evident in his tone and expression. The curiosity hadn’t left his eyes, though. “I’ll let her know to check her email. Guessing she’ll be pleased. Can I get you a drink before you take off?”

  Gavin pretended to give the offer a moment’s consideration before shaking his head. “Not tonight, but thanks. It’s...been a long day.”

  “Gotcha. Some days never seem to want to end.” Paul moved down the bar to take care of a customer, saying over his shoulder, “Come back anytime.”

  “Will do.” Gavin nodded again in farewell, and got the hell out of Dodge as quick as his legs could carry him. Well, without actually breaking into a run.

  Once outside, he dragged in a lungful of air, shoved his thumbs into his pockets and headed toward where he’d parked his truck. A date didn’t necessarily mean anything, he knew. Hell, they’d only been in each other’s lives for two friggin’ weeks. This “date” could’ve been set up well before that day at the Beanery. Well before he’d kissed her.

  A kiss all on its own didn’t necessarily mean a damn thing, either. From her perspective, anyway. From his, it had meant—still meant—a hell of a lot. He didn’t go around kissing women just for the sake of kissing women. Or sharing why a memory held the significance it did. But they were different. Tomato soup and peanut butter different. So what meant something to him might amount to a hill of beans for her. A small hill, at that.

  Even so, even with this logic in place, the idea of Haley being out with another man hurt. Probably far more than it should, considering all of the circumstances. Brought all of those doubts he’d barely pushed away right back to the surface. Made him question himself, what he’d believed might be happening with Haley, and... Yup, it hurt. Shouldn’t, but did.

  This, he decided when he reached his truck, was a very good reason to never barge in on someone. If he’d called her first, she’d have told him what was going on, or at a minimum, that she had plans for the evening and couldn’t join him for a meal. He wouldn’t have trudged over here with all these silly, old-fashioned romantic notions in his head. Wouldn’t have left himself open to possibilities that likely weren’t possibilities at all.

  Also, though, he wouldn’t be feeling as if a semi had just driven a path straight over his heart. And then circled around to finish the job.

  Gavin fished his car keys from his pocket, annoyed by the idiotic comparison. His heart was fine. He was fine, would always be fine. Besides which, some folks did better on their own. He did better on his own, had known that fact for a damn long time.

  There didn’t seem to be any way of getting around that one.

  * * *

  Pleased she’d managed to sneak through the kitchen without being noticed, Haley climbed the stairs to her apartment. Thank goodness her “blind gathering-of-friends” excursion had come to an end. Using Reid’s description, the entire dinner—from appetizers through dessert, and every minute in between—had fallen solidly into the weird zone.

  Yes, Matt the teacher was a nice, intelligent and reasonably attractive guy. Not the man for her, even if Gavin wasn’t in the picture, but she couldn’t deny the accuracy of Suzette’s description. Well, except for that whole “lack of chemistry” garbage.

  Neither Suzette nor Matt had been able to keep their eyes off of each other for the entire evening. Neither paid attention to almost anything else that was being said, by Haley or Suzette’s actual date—who was also a friendly, reasonably attractive guy. They laughed at inappropriate moments, fidgeted in their seats as if they both had ants in their pants, picked at their food, and when they did join in with the conversation, most of what they said didn’t apply.

  All in all, the evening had held an odd, somewhat uncomfortable energy. Whatever issue existed between Suzette and Matt, Haley was fairly certain that it had zilch to do with a lack of chemistry. In fact, unless she’d completely misinterpreted the signs, Suzette was as crazy about Matt as he was about her, so why had she worked so freaking hard to set up this date?

  Unfortunately, there hadn’t been a moment of
privacy during or after dinner to ask Suzette. Haley planned on calling her soon, though. Tomorrow or the next day.

  Mentally exhausted if not physically, she reached the top of the stairs and saw that someone had left a Post-it stuck to her doorknob. She scowled, guessing Reid or Dylan had jotted her a note about her own weird behavior and hasty exit earlier that night.

  “Dorks,” she whispered, crumpling the note in one hand and unlocking the door with the other. Inside, she kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse and the unread Post-it on the table, and sighed in relief, happy to be home. Every one of her siblings had lived in this apartment at one time or another, but she’d been here for close to three years now.

  The place was small. Her kitchenette wasn’t large enough for a full-size range or refrigerator, and her living room barely held her love seat, television and bookshelf. Add in her bedroom, which fortunately had enough space to not feel overly cramped, the tiny-but-manageable bathroom, and she maybe had 500 square feet to call her own. For now, it was more than enough. And really, she couldn’t ask for a better work commute.

  Flipping on a lamp, she went to the bedroom. A hot bubble bath was first on her agenda, followed by a pair of comfy pajamas and then...then, she’d check her email. Maybe Gavin had written, and even if he hadn’t, she’d write him before curling up with a book or finding something to watch. Just to...well, let him know she was thinking about him.

  After soaking in the tub for a good hour or so, she returned to the kitchenette to grab something to drink and saw the crumpled-up Post-it. She should read it, she knew. The note might not be from her brothers, or even if it was, might not be about what had happened earlier. The message could be important. Maybe an employee had called off a shift tomorrow, and her parents needed Haley to fill in. Or perhaps a last-minute order needed to be made.

  She stalked over to the table, picked up and straightened the wrinkled paper, recognized her father’s small, almost pinched handwriting, and read: