by Marina Adair
“Which lady do you want it to be?” Based on the way he was staring, he already had his eye on a hopeful, and it wasn’t Mavis. Harris sent Grace a wink, and she turned around in her chair so fast she nearly fell over.
“It isn’t Grace. I’m riding it in honor of Mavis because with her MS, there’s no way she could straddle the bike. But like I told you a dozen times before, I don’t think Grace is ready to ride your hog,” Avery said with a quiet steel to her voice. Harris was a great guy, but he was also great with the ladies. And Grace was still in a delicate place in her healing—stronger than she realized but still too fragile to play with a guy like Harris.
“She’s ready, she just doesn’t know it,” Harris said, then looked back to Avery. “But the touch her and I will cut off your balls look you got going on isn’t necessary. I’m not offering what she needs. As for the bike ride, I can do it Wednesday night after work.”
“Really? Thank you.” Avery reached up and gave Harris a hug. She went to pull back, and he tightened his arms.
“I thought you wanted to avoid the whole making-family-holidays-weird thing?” she mumbled into his chest.
“I gotta get you up on that bull somehow. Your legs won’t do you much good.” His hands went to her waist, tightening for a second, and then effortlessly he set her on the saddle. “Doesn’t mean screwing with his head in the meantime isn’t fun. Now before you grab that handle, lean in close, then throw your head back like I’m the funniest guy in the world.”
Jesus, could Harris put his hand any higher on Avery’s thigh?
Not without causing a scene, Ty thought, watching the two flirt and carry on like they were a couple of kids partying after playing chicken with a steam engine. Granted, Harris was an overgrown kid—it was why he got along so well with his five-year-old daughter. But there was nothing childlike about Avery.
No sir. In a pair of fitted jeans, one of those flimsy sweaters with holes big enough to make you think you were seeing skin, and a faint trace of red lace peeking out one shoulder, she was clearly all woman. And every man in the room knew it.
And those who weren’t in the know wised up the second Widow Maker started bucking and Avery started swaying. She moved back and forth at first, her body getting used to the rhythm, one hand in the air like she was a pro.
“You got it, girl,” one of the ladies hollered, igniting an explosion of whoops and cheers, and Avery let loose a genuine, contagious laugh that rolled down Ty’s body like warm honey.
Then Widow started jerking, catching her off guard, taking her round and round until it was clear she was going to lose this battle. She grabbed her side like it was pinching, and her friends went eerily silent. Ty shot into savior mode, gauging the fastest possible route from his table to the pen in time to reach her before she hit the mat. But his worry was in vain. Avery did not disappoint.
Nope. He hadn’t even taken a step when, chin squared, she dug deep, wrapping her arms and legs around the bull’s neck, clinging to the steel machine as if she’d rather break every bone in her body than admit defeat. Ty had to admire her spunk. The woman was stubborn—and sexy as hell.
“Three. Two. One,” the crowd counted down, and when the buzzer went off and Widow slowed to a stop, the place erupted in cheers. Orange boas swung in the air, and some lady climbed up on a chair and started clapping.
Not some lady, Ty realized with a chuckle—his mom.
Avery, though, she kept holding on. Cheek pressed to Widow’s neck, limbs locked like a pretzel, and hair spilling over the side, she hung on tight until Harris opened the gate to the pen. Even then she only opened a single eye—and it locked on Ty.
Fifty people were gathered in that bar, and she found him. A small smile tugged her lips, growing until Harris carefully helped her off the bull. And when he took her hand to hold it up like a champion, she didn’t fist pump the air or do some smug victory dance.
Avery didn’t do smug. His angel gave her table a big wave like she was riding on a float in the Main Street parade, then looked back at him and shouted, “I rode Widow Maker and lived to tell the story! Did you see?”
Oh, he saw all right. Couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so alive he could feel her happiness from fifty feet away.
“She’s cute,” Gary Sikes said, pouring himself a beer from the pitcher. “She works at the lodge, right?”
“Dating among coworkers is frowned upon,” Ty informed Sequoia Lake Lodge’s newest seasonal employee.
Ty slid his friend a hard look and, in case he didn’t read all of the back the fuck off signals Ty was throwing his direction, added, “She’s not looking to hook up with a snowbro.”
“Well, lucky thing then that I’m staying until summer.” Gary set the pitcher down and grabbed his beer. “When all of the snow will be melted.”
Ty snatched the mug from him and downed a long pull.
“Not cool, man,” Gary said, getting a new mug. “I was just curious, and it’s not like I would step on Harris’s toes. Not my style.”
Ty frowned. “They’re just friends,” Ty said, watching Avery giggle at something the prick said as he handed her the 8 SECONDS TOUGH ball cap. At least he wasn’t hanging all over her anymore.
“You sure about that?” Gary asked, and Ty leaned back, crowding the table and accidently knocking Gary’s shoulder, spilling beer down the side of the mug.
“Hey!” Gary jerked back and then flicked the foam off his hand. “All I’m saying is that none of my friends look like her. And you’re fuck off and die glare was the only reason guys weren’t lined up and waiting for her to get bucked off so they could buy her a drink and offer to rub her boo-boos—Ow! Jesus.” Gary rubbed his shoulder. “Do you treat all future employees this way?”
“Only the ones who piss me off,” Ty said, half joking.
All week he’d been dreaming about being away from the lodge so he could pound some serious dirt, get a hit of adrenaline, and pretend he didn’t have a pile of stuff still left to do. And it had worked. The climb had gone great—better than great. Ty not only worked out some aggression scaling Cedar Rim but also landed Sequoia Lake Lodge a new elite adventure guide.
And it was time to celebrate. So he’d come here to throw back a few and enjoy knowing there was one less thing to do before he could head back to his life down south.
Then he walked in here and saw Avery, and all he could think about was her. Naked. In his bed.
Only she was with his mom, hanging out like they were besties, a view that should have had him running. It didn’t. In fact, seeing Avery with his mom, talking and laughing with a group of women he’d known his whole life, might have killed some of the immediate fantasy, but it did nothing to curb his interest. If anything it drew him in further.
And now she was chatting it up with Harris, wearing his stupid cap, while he reached out for her side to rub her fucking boo-boos. But she batted his hand away with a casual laugh.
“They didn’t line up because she didn’t fall off. She’s too stubborn for that,” Ty said, but he scanned the room anyway for these other guys. He located nine possibilities. All under thirty-five, all interested, and not a one Ty couldn’t take.
“And she isn’t with Harris.” Ty polished off his beer and stood. “And she earned a crown, not a ball cap.”
Eyes locked on the target, Ty made his way toward the bull pen. And Avery. She watched him approach, her eyes widening as he strode through the gathered crowd. She went a little pink in the cheeks but didn’t look away, instead engaging him with a playfulness that fed right into his mood.
He might call her “angel,” but she was a fireball of trouble.
And Ty loved him some trouble. Walked headfirst into it every day for work. But her kind of trouble left marks. Sure, she was pretty in that all-American way, and she had a quiet confidence that was as calming as it was enticing. But it was her strength that got him. She had a resilience that was intoxicating, an openness in those expressive blue pools tha
t made him want to fall right in and never come out.
Ty’s life was full of people who needed him—his job, his team, his subjects, even his family—though Dale would rather lose the lodge than admit it. Ty’s world worked on a need-only basis. But the relationships in Avery’s life seemed to exist on her desire to make connections, not a need to connect.
“Hey,” he said, approaching the two of them. He spoke to Harris but watched Avery. “My mom was looking for you. Something about leaving your girlie magazines in her bathroom. She looked mad.”
Avery laughed. “Girlie magazines?”
“I’ll go find her,” Harris deadpanned. “Explain that you asked to borrow my entire collection.” He turned to Avery. “Good job, tiny.”
“Thanks for taking it easy,” she said.
With a wink for the lady and the finger for Ty, Harris left.
“That was mean,” she said, but he noticed she wasn’t calling his cousin back over.
“Well, we have something to talk about.” He leaned a hip against the metal pin railing. “Something important. It couldn’t wait.”
She looked startled, then looked around and lowered her voice. “I know. I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us. We had a great day yesterday, and I feel like we’re finally becoming friends, and”—she clasped her hands in front of her—“I should have told you the second you walked in.”
Ty crossed his arms. “Told me what? I was talking about what kind of crown you wanted.”
“I was talking about the crown, silly.” She rolled her eyes, then smacked him in the chest. Only to jerk her hand back. “Quick, pretend you came over to congratulate me and talk about the crown.”
“I did come to talk about the crown.” Ty looked around and saw a punk sitting at the end of the bar with a boy band tattoo and frosted tips, making hey, baby eyes at Avery. Not that she noticed—she was too busy faking a laugh. “Since the Backstreet boy isn’t your type and Harris is behind the bar, what’s going on?”
Her hands went to her hips. “How do you know he’s not my type?”
He matched her stance and watched as a hint of pink darkened her cheeks, then stretched to reach the tips of her ears.
“It’s your mom,” she whispered. “She was acting all weird, saying cryptic things, and, well, I think she knows we kissed.”
Ty burst out laughing. “Correction. You mean she knows you kissed me. Because when I kissed you there was no one around but the squirrels. When you kissed me it was in front of a member of every founding family in the area.”
“Can’t we just leave it at we kissed?” she hissed. “And now your mom knows, and she’s acting weird.”
“We kissed twice,” he corrected. “And my mom always acts weird. It’s part of her charm—and what happens when some strange woman kisses her son without even asking his name.”
“I asked you your name, and you said Ty. Just Ty, like you’re too cool for a full name.” She waved a dramatic hand, flipping her wrist for flair, then hesitated as a pinch shot through her side. Briefly holding her breath, she put her hand back on her hip and, stoic smile in place, she continued, “How was I to know Ty was short for ‘the boss’s son’?”
“I was too focused on you being an adventure guide to notice I left out the last name.” He moved closer and rested his hand over hers. “You’re hurt.”
She tried to bat his hand away too, but unlike Harris he didn’t back down. “I saw you whip back when Widow made that turn. He jerked you pretty good. Did you hurt something?”
“It’s just a pull,” she whispered, her eyes on their hands, which were suddenly intertwined. “But it’s better now.”
“You sure?” He looked up, savoring the warmth of the connection. “I could kiss it better?”
“You could, but I’d have to lift up my shirt, and that would definitely make your mom act weird.”
Ty groaned at the image of what lay beneath that shirt. “I’m willing to risk it.”
Avery seemed to contemplate this, but then good sense kicked. “Your mom has enough on her mind without having to worry about an employee going topless at the local watering hole.” Her hand tightened in his. “How did things with your dad go?”
“It could have gone worse,” Ty said, intending on leaving it at that. But the warm compassion in her eyes made her impossible to ignore. Her genuine interest deserved a genuine answer. “It could have gone better too. I don’t know if it’s me being home that has him so riled up, or if he’s just in a mood, but he was in rare form.”
“It isn’t you,” Avery said. “He’s been like that for a while. There has been a lot of change in his life recently, and he’s struggling to deal with it. It’s why your mom hired me, to help get the place organized and back running smooth. I know he’s thrilled that you’re back.”
“I don’t know about thrilled,” Ty said. “But he did give in to hiring Brian on full-time. He starts tomorrow.”
“That’s great,” she said. “And just in time for your meeting with Cal-SAR.”
“I still have a lot to do to prepare for my talk. There will be a ton of paperwork and legwork after my call, and Gary can’t start until next weekend, but things are looking better.” Every second he talked to Avery he felt a little better too. Lighter and not so stressed.
It was her smile, he decided—it had the power to cut through all of the BS.
“I have a solution for some extra manpower to help with the legwork,” she said, resting her hands on the table, so close to his all he had to do was move his finger and they’d be touching. “As for Brian, he’s a good guy who I know will work hard not to let you down. Plus, his wife seems set on moving here. I don’t think they have family close by, but she is sweet and won’t have a hard time finding friends.”
If not, he was sure Avery would make it her personal mission to see Brian and his family settled. Not that Ty would be around to see much of it, since he was leaving.
“Thanks for the heads-up about my dad,” he said. “Otherwise I would have walked into an even worse shit storm. I don’t even know what set him off.”
Her face puckered in confusion, quickly softening into what he interpreted to be sadness. Her hand lowered, and she took a small step back, breaking the connection. “It seems like you’re handling things fine.”
An awkward moment passed between them, and Ty couldn’t say what had caused the shift, but he felt it. Maybe it was that his mom was ten feet away talking to Harris, who kept looking this way. Or maybe his cousin wasn’t screwing with him, and there was something more there than friendship.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back. “What were you and Harris talking about?”
“Oh God.” She covered her face and burst out laughing. “It’s bad. I totally cornered the poor guy into taking me out on his motorcycle this week. Being a gentleman, he said yes.”
Poor guy his ass. Any healthy male in the bar would jump at the chance to have Avery snuggled up to him while blasting through the mountains with her wrapped around his thighs.
He looked down at her orange cowgirl boots. “You don’t seem like a biker babe. Then again, I didn’t take you for a cowgirl either, and you rode Widow Maker into the ground.”
“And I won a crown.”
He smiled. “That you did.” Resting his hand on her lower back, he guided her toward a booth at the back of the bar. “Because you’re the rodeo queen of the night, I’m going to buy you the first round, then after we toast you can tell me the kind of crown you want.”
She squealed. “It needs to be big, fancy, with lots of filigree. Oh, and bling. A queen needs regal bling.”
“What happened to beer coasters and napkins?” he asked, but if he had to learn how to mold platinum, he’d do it if it meant she kept smiling up at him like that.
“Coasters and napkins are perfect,” she conceded. “As for the drink, although I’d love a s’more-tini, I’ll settle on ginger ale.”
“We talking ging
er ale?” He mimed bringing a big frothy mug to his mouth. “Or ginger ale?” He stuck out his pinkie.
With a wiggle of her little finger, she added, “With some of those dyed cherries in it.”
“Of course,” he said. “Wouldn’t be a celebration without those dyed cherries. Be right back.”
Her laugh reached him as he made his way toward the bar. Harris was standing by the bar, so Ty sidled up next to him.
“What’s up with you taking Avery on a ride?”
“Well, hey, cuz, sure you can buy the first round since I took a half day off to taxi your ass all the way up Cedar Rim. And yes, my plan worked—we impressed the kid, and now you have a new guide. You’re welcome.”
“And what’s up with the special treatment? You don’t even run the bull—Roland does. Hell, you aren’t even working tonight.”
“I told Roland I’d handle this one personally,” Harris said, making some kind of suggestive expression with his brows.
“Well, you’ve handled enough, so call off the ride.”
Harris grinned. “Are you saying that my handling is bothering you?”
“I’m saying that she isn’t one of your barflies—she’s an employee of the lodge.”
“An employee you fired and I rehired,” Harris pointed out. “Now, if she were more than an employee to you, then any and all handling on my end would be off.”
“Stop with the fucking handling, all right?”
Harris put up his hands in surrender, but the idiot was grinning. “You’re into her, got it.” Harris leaned in. “For the record, I didn’t ask her, she asked me, and I only said yes because it’s on her bucket list or whatever.”
That fucking bucket list. It probably came right after kissing a stranger and before—well, he didn’t want to even go there.
“Plus, you’re leaving in a few weeks.” Which was why Ty couldn’t go there. “And like you said, she isn’t your type. Unless something’s changed I should know about.”
Everything had changed, except the one thing that mattered. He was leaving, and Avery deserved more than a passing fling with a snowbro. Especially since he’d be passing through on rotating holidays. “Nothing’s changed.”