Never in his life had Gavin seen such a smile. Warm and real and … well, sweet and saucy, too. How in heaven’s name had this woman seen anything in him to pique her interest?

Or, for that matter, sit in his living room with a smile?

Those thoughts swirled and spun. He opened his mouth, set to say something—anything.

Swallowing hard, he forced his body to move in Haley’s direction before she noticed his awkwardness. Or worse, commented on his awkwardness.

Lord, he was a mess.

Rattled. Confused. Unshaven. Yup, a mess, and in that second, what he needed the most was to know what motivated Haley Foster to behave in the way she did.

“Why’d you come over here tonight, Haley?”

About the Author

TRACY MADISON lives in northwestern Ohio with her husband, four children, one bear-size dog, one loving-but-paranoid pooch and a couple of snobby cats. Her house is often hectic, noisy and filled to the brim with laugh-out-loud moments. Many of these incidents fire up her imagination to create the interesting, realistic and intrinsically funny characters that live in her stories. Tracy loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at tracy@tracymadison.com.

Haley’s Mountain Man
Tracy Madison

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For many reasons, this story is dedicated to

the friends who make up my extended family.

You know who you are, and you know why.

Thank you for your love, support and belief.

Chapter One

The lazy, hazy days of summer couldn’t get here soon enough. Well, the hazy days, anyway. No one who lived in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, would describe summer as lazy. They would describe now as lazy. Relaxing. Maybe even rejuvenating.

Not Haley Foster. She was, in fact, bored out of her ever-living skull.

Admittedly, an odd state of being. With the hectic winter tourist season behind them and the summer season yet to arrive in full force, she should be enjoying the brief slowdown. She always had in the past. This year, though, she was … restless.

More than that, really. She had this itchy, uncomfortable sense of waiting for something—anything—to happen. What, exactly, she didn’t have a clue. Just … something.

And that was why she couldn’t wait for summer. The tourists would breeze in to spend their vacations white-water rafting, hiking, canoeing, or any one of the many other activities available in the area, and her sleepy town would wake again. She would be busy from sunup to sundown, and wouldn’t have the time to worry about why she felt so off.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair at the Beanery, the local coffee joint, and tried to pay attention to her longtime friend Suzette Solomon. They’d met earlier for a Saturday morning Spinning class. Now, they were supposed to be savoring their reward of yummy hot beverages while catching up on each other’s lives.

Suzette was in the midst of sharing a funny story about one of her fourth-grade students, and while Haley managed to chuckle and insert a comment here and there, mostly she couldn’t pull herself out of her own head long enough to relax. Dammit! She’d really believed that an hour of hard exercise followed up by a solid dose of friend time would ease the edginess.

She’d been wrong.

Why was she so freaking restless? And for that matter, why did she feel as if life were passing her by? She wasn’t old, for crying out loud. At twenty-six, she had plenty of time to do anything she wanted to do. But lately, the days and the nights had seemed interminably long, and even when she was with her family or friends, she had the inexplicable sensation of … loneliness.

Maybe she needed to take up a new hobby. Or buy a pet. Or … When an epiphany failed to strike, she decided to place the full blame on being stuck between seasons. Had to be. Why search for a deeper meaning when the simplest answer was usually the culprit?

Suzette cleared her throat and watched Haley expectantly, apparently waiting for some type of a response. Oh, crap. Was this a laugh, be shocked or commiserate moment? She went with a soft chuckle, hoping that would cover all possible bases.

“Cute story, huh?” Suzette asked, ruffling her short black hair with her fingers.

“So cute,” Haley agreed enthusiastically.

“Yeah? What was your favorite part?”

“Um, honestly, I don’t think I can choose a favorite. The entire story was just adorable, and really, I bet cute and adorable stuff happens every single day in your classroom.”

“Really, Haley?” Suzette gave her a long, semi-amused look. “You’re seriously going to pretend that you didn’t zone out a good five or ten minutes ago?”

Sighing again, Haley offered a faint smile. “I’m sorry. Was I that obvious?”

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have noticed.” Wrapping her hand around her coffee cup, Suzette said, “No worries, though. I know I can go on and on about my students.”

“I like hearing about your students!” And she did. Usually. “I was thinking about how slow the days are, and how I can’t wait for summer to get here so everything can pick up again. That’s all.” Close enough to the truth. As close as she wanted to get, anyway.

“Since when? For almost the entire winter, all I heard was how anxious you were for enough empty hours in the day to read a book, watch a movie, paint your apartment.” She arched a finely plucked eyebrow. “Go out on a few dates. Which, actually, I wanted to ask—”

“I’ve read the books and watched the movies I wanted to, and you helped me paint my apartment. So now, I’m ready for summer.”

“Hmm, yes. But you left one item off of that list. Tell me, how many dates have you racked up in the past few months?”

Wrinkling her nose, Haley sipped her chai tea. Suzette already knew the answer to that question. “My lack of a dating life has nothing to do with my boredom.” Her loneliness, maybe, but she didn’t feel like broaching that topic. “I’m just bored.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you are.”

“You know how it is in between seasons,” she argued, hoping beyond hope that she was right, and that once summer rolled in, these odd feelings would disappear. “Instead of twelve-hour workdays, I barely have enough on my agenda to stay busy for eight.”

Haley’s family owned two businesses in Steamboat Springs. All of the Fosters—Haley, her three older brothers, and their parents—were partners in the running of said businesses. During the winter and summer months, that meant keeping up with her normal duties as well as helping out in the restaurant and in the sporting goods store.

In the spring and fall, though, she was primarily in the office contending with the businesses’ basic accounting needs, updating their websites, and ordering supplies and inventory. Most of which she’d long since mastered, so typically, none of it took very long.

“I do know how it is,” Suzette agreed easily. Her parents were also local business owners, and Suzette had worked at their deli during summers until she’d graduated from college. “Your work schedule isn’t the issue. Or what’s really bothering you, so why don’t we talk about that?”

“Stop.” Forcing a laugh, she wished that Suzette didn’t know her quite so well. In this particular context, anyway. “There isn’t anything else bugging me.”

“You’re in a funk, dating-wise,” Suzette said matter-of-factly, as if Haley hadn’t spoken. “Happens to all of us at one time or another. But as they say, the first step is admitting an issue exists. So, I have an idea to fix your boredom and make a certain someone—”

“Stop,” she repeated, sensing the conversation was headed directly toward blind-date land. “There isn’t an issue. None! And I have no desire to be fixed up with anyone.”

“Even if that guy is cute, sweet and funny?”

“Even if.”

“Intelligent and warmhearted?”

“Even if,” she repeated. “And if he’s that amazing, why aren’t you dating him? Unless. Oh, no, Suzette. You’re not trying to fix me up with one of your leftovers, are you?”

“One date, and not even a real date, and we didn’t even kiss,” she said with a flick of her wrist. “So nope, not a leftover. Promise.”

“Darn close, though. Jeez.”

Letting out a huff, Suzette said, “Just say the words, Haley. Dating. Funk.”

“So speaks the woman who juggles three men on any given weekend.” Haley was only half joking. Her friend always seemed to have a man on each arm.

“Only because I’m not as choosy as you.” Narrow shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “If a nice guy asks me out, I tend to say yes. Whereas you tend to pluck excuses from the air in order to say no.” Bracing her elbows on the table, she rested her chin in her hands. “I have a better question for you. How many dates have you turned down in the past few months?”

Mentally doing the math, Haley frowned. She’d declined a handful of invitations, so what? Lonely was one thing. Dating someone she wasn’t interested in was another. “I don’t see the point in spending an evening with a man based on how nice he is.”

“Because spending an evening with a nice guy is … such a horrible experience?”

“Not at all! He should be nice, obviously, but there should also be something more.”

“Sexual attraction is always a plus, but—”

“I’m not even talking about that,” Haley interrupted. Not that she disagreed. But, “I don’t want to know every detail about a man’s life before we order drinks. I want to be … curious about a man, about what makes him tick.”

And that right there was her real issue. Despite how nice many of the local men were, she just knew them too freaking well for them to hold any real interest. When you could all too easily picture a man swallowing mouthfuls of glue or picking his nose from their elementary school days, it was hard to see him in a different light. Unfair, she knew, but the truth.

Sure, she’d dated plenty in the past. None of those relationships had evolved into anything. Some of those failures she placed squarely on her big brothers’ shoulders. Sweet as they were, they could also be a little too overprotective. The rest … well, the guys had either turned out to be jerks, or there simply hadn’t been enough chemistry.

In other words, unless she moved to another city—which she had absolutely no desire to do—her future love life looked pretty darn bleak.

Maybe she should let Suzette fix her up. The thought was defeating somehow, and for whatever reason, not something she wanted to do. Yeah, she should get a pet.

A cat, maybe. Or ten. Didn’t all spinsters have a houseful of cats?

“Are you saying what I think you are?” Suzette asked, her voice this side of shocked. Perhaps even a little amused. And damn if Haley could figure out where her mind had gone.

“Er, I don’t know,” she said. “What do you think I’m thinking?”

“Are you considering having a summer fling with a hot, hunky tourist or two?”

Laughter burbled out of Haley’s throat. It felt good, even if the thought was ludicrous. “Oh, come on, that is not why I’m ready for summer. You know me better than that.”

“I do, but a girl can hope. Besides, why not?”

She had nothing to say to that. Not one thing.

“It could be fun,” Suzette prodded. “How will you know unless you give it a try?”

“Um, because I do. I’m not interested.” Tourists weren’t around long enough to appeal, and she wanted something more meaningful than a fling. Tired of trying to explain a yearning she didn’t quite understand, she said, “You were right to begin with. I’m too picky.”

“Look, Haley,” Suzette said, her voice becoming serious, “you’re thinking too hard about this! Date a few guys. Have some fun. You don’t have to marry any of them, but it has to better than sitting at home wishing for twelve-hour workdays. Which is rather nuts, you know.”

“I know, but—”

The door flew open and a man entered. Blinking, she watched him stride toward Lola, the owner of the Beanery and, as it so happened, a close friend of Haley’s mother. He held a clipboard in one hand, the other was squeezed into a fist at his side, and every ounce of his body seemed intense and … hard, as if he were prepared for a fight.

She had drawn the same impression when she’d originally met him, back in December. His name was Gavin Daugherty, and he was somewhat of a newcomer to Steamboat Springs. At the time, he’d come into the sports store looking for work as a ski instructor. They hadn’t had any positions available, but her brother Cole had latched onto her interest—curiosity—and for a while, had seemed bent on finding out more about Gavin.

Fortunately, Cole’s attention had become otherwise occupied by his now-fiancée, Rachel Merriday, and he’d seemingly forgotten all about Gavin.

But Haley hadn’t. The man had been on her mind a lot.

Silly, really, as she knew hardly anything about him, and had seen him only a few times since. Curious, she watched as he got into line behind four others to wait his turn. The woman in front of him instantly stepped forward, putting a few more inches of space in between her and him. Gavin stepped forward as well, as folks were apt to do when a line moved. The woman attempted to move up again, but she didn’t have any room left to do so.

Instead, she sidled to the side. Without missing a beat, Gavin retreated a few inches and gestured for the woman to retake her place in line. She didn’t look at him and, rather than moving closer, she stepped another few inches in the opposite direction, and then several more.

A slow burn began inside as Haley put two and two together. She had a sense that people backed away from Gavin often. She supposed that was due in part to his size, as he was a giant of a man. Probably around six-foot-five, he had the build of a linebacker that only began with the wide, muscular breadth of his shoulders. And okay, he could use a haircut and a shave to get rid of the Grizzly Adams look he had going. Even so, his appearance didn’t scare her or make her uneasy. She could see, however, how others might view him as intimidating.

“So what do you say?” Suzette asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Can’t be next weekend, but if I can put something together for the weekend after next, are you game? Please say yes.”

“Um, sure,” Haley said, entirely focused on Gavin. “Whatever, whenever, is fine.”

“That’s great! We’ll have fun, you’ll see. And I know you’ll like Matt.”

“Uh, what?” Returning her attention to her friend, Haley said, “Wait a minute. Who is Matt and why does it matter if I’ll like him or not?”

“Matt is the guy we’ve been talking about. He’s one of the teachers I work with.” Suzette smiled smugly and crossed her arms over her chest. “And you just agreed to a double date.”

“No way, Suzette.” Haley shook her head to back up her words. “I’m not interested in a blind date, double or otherwise.”

“You already agreed,” Suzette said in a singsong voice. “So, tough. I swear, he’s a great guy. And since he didn’t grow up here, you can learn all about what makes him tick. That is what you said you wanted, right?”

Scowling, she pushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “It is, but you’re being unfair. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.” Unable to stop herself, Haley turned to look at Gavin again.

“Yep, but whose fault is that?”

“Mine, but you took advantage.”

“True. I’m holding you to it, though. For your own sake.” Following the direction of Haley’s gaze, she asked, “What is so interesting up there that you can’t stop staring?”

Letting the topic drop—for now—Haley asked, “Do you see that guy?”

“Mr. Mountain Man? Yeah, he’s hard to miss.”

“If you were standing in line with him, would you feel uncomfortable or … threatened?”

Suzette shrugged. “I might, if he looked at me funny. He’s a big guy and look at how he’s standing—all stiff and straight, like he’s rearing up to pounce or something. If he just stood there and ignored me, though, I wouldn’t give him a second thought. Why ask for trouble, right?”

“Exactly.”

“He has a killer body, though,” Suzette mused. “I wonder if he’s hot beneath all that hair. Do you know him?”

“Not really.” Quickly draining the rest of her tea, she stood. “I’m going to get another. Do you want anything?”

“Ah … no. I think I’m good.” Suzette glanced from Haley to Gavin and back again. “Him? You’re interested in that guy? He doesn’t look to be your type.”

Heat suffused Haley’s cheeks. “I want more tea, Suzette. That’s all. And how do you know what my type is, anyway? I don’t even know what my type is.”

Suzette regarded her silently for a few seconds before donning a bright smile. “I know that Matt is your type, and I know you’ll enjoy meeting him.”

“I’m … Oh. The hell with it. Fine, I’ll go.” Simpler to agree than to continue to argue a case she wouldn’t win. Besides which, she was allergic to cats. “One time only. End of discussion.”

“For now, but you might change your mind after meeting Matt.” Twisting her wrist to look at her watch, she made a face. “I have to run. Plans tonight and a lot to do beforehand.”

“You can’t stay for a little longer?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. Even if I could, I’m not up to feeling like a third wheel.” Standing, Suzette gave her a quick hug. “It probably won’t be this week, because Matt’s heading home to see his family for a few days, but once I have the details set for our double date, I’ll call.”

“Yay,” Haley said with zero enthusiasm. “Can’t wait.”

“Okay, I have to run.” She gave one more question-filled glance toward Gavin before saying, “Just … ah … be careful. With your tea.”

Haley opened her mouth to argue—again—but snapped it shut. There was something to be said about protesting too much. Rather, she simply smiled and waved goodbye. Once Suzette had exited the Beanery, she expelled a breath and smoothed her shirt. Resisted the impulse to do the same with her hair, and pushed herself forward … toward the mountain man.

Just out of curiosity’s sake, she assured herself. Nothing more than that. Because Suzette had been right on the money—Gavin Daugherty was not her type. He was, in fact, the physical opposite of every man she had ever dated. Taller, bigger, gruffer.

He intrigued her, though, which was something a man hadn’t done in a long, long while. The thought was … compelling.

Almost irresistibly so.

Chapter Two

Crowds in general made Gavin Daugherty uneasy. Being around too many folks at once brought on a plethora of miserable sensations. Out of nowhere, his throat would grow scratchy and dry, his palms would sweat and even the collar of his shirt went on attack, tightening incrementally around his neck until he found a way to get the hell out of dodge.

Exactly the reasons he’d chosen midmorning to arrive at the Beanery. He’d hoped to hit the sweet spot and find the place near empty. Rather, it being a Saturday and all—a fact he should’ve considered—the coffee shop was teeming with people. When he first walked in, he’d had half a mind to turn around and try for better luck on Monday.

Truth was, though, he’d already waited too damn long. He should have been on top of this months ago. So, like it or not—and he didn’t—here he was, waiting in the slowest-moving line on earth to speak with Lola, mentally rehearsing the speech he’d spent the past several weeks preparing, and trying not to spook the lady to the front and right of him again.

Asking anyone for anything was about as far out of Gavin’s comfort range as standing in the middle of the busy coffee shop, but he had to do it. If he had any hope of his plan succeeding, he couldn’t sit back and wait for his entire lousy life to do a one-eighty without putting forth any effort. The thought had no more crossed his mind before he changed it. Much of his life had hit below the lousy line, but not all of it. Not by a long shot.

Now … well, now was fairly decent. And he couldn’t forget Russ and Elaine Demko or the gifts they’d given him, either. God, he hated thinking that both of them were gone.

Little had his scruffy, twelve-year-old self known how fortunate he was to be placed with them, or how much he would come to love them. Yep, he’d been headed down the wrong path at full speed when Russ and Elaine became his foster parents, and damn if he knew how, but they’d seen clear through his tough act and shown him what family, and being a part of one, meant.

He’d stayed with them only for a little over two years before they’d decided to move out of state. Work-related, he’d been told. They hadn’t forgotten him, though, and had kept in touch on holidays and his birthday and a letter here and there. It had hurt, sure, but he’d found some peace in knowing they cared, that they were out there somewhere, still caring.

Elaine had died several years back, from cancer. Russ just about two years ago now, from a heart attack. Or, more likely, heartbreak. And he’d gone and left Gavin some money. Not a little and not a lot, but some. Enough to buy some land. Enough to situate himself, to get started here, in Steamboat Springs, where Russ and Elaine had brought Gavin a time or two while he’d lived with them. Good days. Good memories.

He’d rather have Russ and Elaine.

Gavin stifled a sigh tinged with sadness and relief when the damn line finally moved forward by one. Lola, she liked to chat up her customers, that was for sure. Good business sense combined with a naturally friendly nature, he supposed.

Before stepping forward, he darted a glance toward the right, curious if enough space now existed for the woman to retake her place in front of him. That would be a … no. She inched herself up but maintained her hovering-to-the-side position as if her very life depended on it.

Accustomed to the behavior or not, it rankled.

His clothes were clean and well kept, if not brand-spanking-new. He was clean and … well, relatively well kept, though a shave probably wouldn’t be out of order. He hadn’t said a word to the woman, for crying out loud. So yes, it disturbed him, the way folks stepped out of his path when they saw him coming or refused to look him in the eye. And when little old ladies clutched their purses to their chests and watched him in a mix of distrust and fear, he just about died inside. He was used to it, but he wanted more.

Stupid to think Steamboat Springs, Colorado, would be any different. It wasn’t. Folks here treated him the same as they did anywhere else, except for a handful of them. Lola being one, which was why he’d decided to start with her. He wasn’t about to give up.

Someday, he’d walk these streets and folks would raise their hands and say hi. Someday, he’d have a place here. Not just for him, but for boys stuck in the system, as he had once been. A sanctuary, albeit a temporary one, where he hoped to make some type of a difference for these kids. Just as Russ and Elaine had done for him.

That was his goal: to open a camp of sorts, for boys who didn’t have real homes, where they’d learn to ski, go on hikes, sit outside around a campfire. Somehow, and he wasn’t quite sure how, he wanted to show these kids what Russ and Elaine had taught him—that life kept moving, changing, morphing from one thing to another. Bad now didn’t mean bad later. And he couldn’t figure a better way than sharing his love of the outdoors.

Being outside, whether working or playing, had often helped Gavin feel that he was a part of something bigger, better, than whatever was going on in that moment. He’d like to pass that feeling—belief—on, if he could. And no, he didn’t have all the details or specifics worked out, but he would. In time.

That was the promise he’d made to himself when he’d received the check from Russ’s estate, when he’d read the letter Russ had written to him.

Turned out, the Demkos had wanted to adopt him, along with the other boy who’d been staying with them, and had actually tried to sort through the red tape before Russ’s job had taken them to Massachusetts. Bad luck that they’d run out of time before they’d run out of red tape, forcing them to give up. Bad luck, as well, that Gavin’s mother had chosen that exact moment to get her act together long enough to go for another chance at raising her son.

A chance she’d ruined within months. She’d had more chances, later, down the road. All of which had amounted to a big, fat pile of nothing. Just like always.

But that letter from Russ—the sheer fact of knowing that the Demkos had wanted him as their legal son—had arrived in the nick of the time. Gavin had been in Aspen, fighting with himself over a decision. And that letter. Well, Russ’s words had once again altered his view of himself, of what he wanted out of life, and had pulled him off the disastrous path he’d come too close to taking. So yeah, he owed Russ and Elaine. Owed them the best he could give.

More than that, he owed himself.

Lost in the past as he was, in his hopes for the future, Gavin didn’t realize when someone else stepped into line behind him. It was the voice that filtered into his thoughts. A female voice, warm and sultry, and somehow effervescent, that broke his concentration. For a beat, he stood there and soaked in that voice, let it seep into his soul and calm his ragged emotions.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” the female said again, louder this time, more insistent. He half turned to see who was speaking and to whom, because while he’d been mistaken for many things, not a one of them had ever been a “ma’am.” Thank God for that.

Ah. Haley Foster. The sweetheart of Steamboat Springs, live and in person. He knew who she was, of course, from the sporting goods store he’d tried to get a job at, but also by reputation. In this town, the Fosters were well liked, well respected and very much involved in … well, it seemed like just about everything. And while he didn’t know for sure, he thought Haley was the baby of the family. Her brothers, from the few times Gavin had seen them, appeared to be older.

But who knew? He’d never been that great at guessing age. If he were to take a stab, though, he’d put her on the lower end of the twenties. Maybe midtwenties, but surely no older.

Something inside sort of tightened as he appraised her. Her long, auburn hair was up in one of those contraptions only females knew how to use, forming a loose knot that wasn’t completely doing the job it was meant for. Escaped tendrils framed her face in a messy yet no less appealing sort of way. Her eyes, a riveting combination of smoke and willow and fog—green but not all-the-way green—were aimed at the woman he’d somehow spooked.

“Ma’am,” she repeated. “Are you in line or …?”

The woman, apparently catching on that she was being spoken to, tilted her chin in Haley’s direction. “Yes,” she said. “Of course I’m in line.”

Haley widened those riveting eyes of hers in a darn good imitation of surprise. “Oh. Um, you do realize that you’re not actually standing in line, though. Right? I mean, I thought you were just looking at the menu, the way you’re so far off to the side like that.”

“I’m in line,” the woman repeated. “Sorry for your confusion.”

“Confusion?” Shaking her head, Haley gave the distance between the woman and Gavin and assessing glance. “Nope, not confused. In fact, I would say you’re a good foot or so off from actually being in the line. Maybe more.” She nudged—nudged—Gavin’s arm. “Wouldn’t you say that’s about a foot? More or less?”

And damn if he didn’t have to work hard not to laugh out loud at the woman’s expression. “Easily a foot. More or less,” he confirmed.

Without another word, the woman eased herself into line. And Haley … well, she winked at him, and muttered something about ignorance he couldn’t quite make out under her breath.

He knew it was dumb. He knew it didn’t mean a damned thing. But the fact was, the sweetheart of Steamboat Springs, Colorado, had just done something only two other people in his life had ever before done. She’d stood up for him. And that made her different.

What was that word Russ would use to describe Elaine? Gumption. That was it. “Boy,” he’d say, usually after Elaine had rightly torn into his hide about one thing or the other, “that woman’s got gumption, and a woman with gumption is a helluva lot more important ten, twenty, thirty years down the road than anything else she might have once had. Remember that.”

And yep, he’d remembered. Now, looking at Miss Haley Foster and the spunky, satisfied grin she wore, it was easy to see that she was damn near overflowing with the stuff, with gumption. Before he went and said something to that effect, or something equally ridiculous, he gave her a quick nod and faced front again.

Not being able to see her didn’t wipe the look of her out of his head, though. He felt her, too, in every ounce of his body, deeper than bone. Not so different, really, than the warmth of the sun saturating into his skin. Natural. Life-affirming. Real.

He let those words tumble around for all of thirty seconds before booting them out. She was a woman he didn’t know—not really—and she didn’t know him. So nope, she hadn’t stood up for him, she’d asked a damn question. That was all. And comparing her physical presence to the friggin’ sun? Where had that idiotic thought come from, anyway?

Didn’t matter. None of it.

What did matter was obtaining Lola’s assistance. Gavin returned his focus to that and started mentally rehearsing his speech again, all the while pretending that the warm buzz cascading over him, through him, had nothing to do with the female standing behind him.

Not one damn thing.

Gavin’s flannel-shirt-covered back, every long and broad muscular inch of it, was so still, Haley couldn’t determine if the man was even breathing. Disappointment, sharp and strong, cut into the anticipation that had been fizzing and popping in her blood. What had she thought would happen? That they’d strike up a conversation because she’d confronted the standoffish woman?

Yes, actually, that was what she had thought.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at that long, broad back. Considered tapping his arm and just start talking. Ask him a question. Mention how nice the day was, how it was slowly warming up outside. Find out if he was a coffee or a tea drinker, or … Okay. Something less boring. Something less … predictable. Maybe she should just faint dead away at his feet and hope he’d pick her up and carry her off to wherever he lived and … and … have his way with her?

Really? She shook her head, tried to erase the image, but the darn thing refused to vanish. Warmth flooded her cheeks and dripped down her neck. A tight ball of heat gathered in her stomach, low and heavy and almost throbbing in its intensity, reminding her of how long it had been since she’d last experienced that particular sensation.

Desire. Longing. The need to be touched.

And wow, wasn’t it just awesome that she’d have this experience now, here in the middle of the freaking coffee shop, over a man she barely knew, after the briefest, most innocent of encounters? Pitiful. Embarrassing. Maybe even a little sad.

But also … interesting? Yes, that, too.

The line moved again while she pondered, considering the complexities and the simplicities of the signals her body seemed hell-bent on sending her way. A chemical response, surely, since she didn’t know Gavin. She didn’t know where he came from, what his goals were, what his favorite foods were. She knew he skied, considered himself able to teach others how to ski. She knew he’d moved into the area sometime before December.

And that was the sum of her knowledge.

So, okay. A chemical response. Nothing more, nothing less. Her eyes traveled the length of him, from his untucked charcoal flannel shirt, to his denim-covered legs, to his heavy leather hiking boots. Easy to see all were clean. Well-worn, too. The jeans, the shirt, they fit his body as if he’d been wearing them, had worked and played in them, for so long that they’d formed to his shape. No other man would be able to wear those jeans and that shirt quite so well.

She looked up and up, and up some more. His hair was straight, except for the slight wave at the ends, and fell a few inches below his collar. Either he’d put off going to the barber or he was in that awkward growing-out stage. Probably the former. She tried to determine the accurate word for the color of his hair. Brown did the job, she supposed, but it wasn’t nearly enough. In her mind, brown in and of itself was a flat, drab shade, holding little depth, little light, little of interest. But Gavin’s hair was filled with light. It was thick and lustrous, rich with hues of chestnut and coffee, chocolate and cinnamon, and the odd golden strand here and there.

So, no. Brown didn’t begin to cut it.

Beautiful, maybe. And she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if that straight line of beautiful hair was as soft to the touch as it looked.

Sad and pitiful, for sure, to be gawking at a stranger’s hair and wishing she could touch it. Haley shook her head and forcibly pulled herself out of her inane thoughts. Maybe Suzette had been right all along. Maybe a date with Matt the teacher was exactly what she needed.

The line moved again, and the standoffish woman gave her order. For whatever reason, Lola didn’t drop into her normal banter, just asked what type of milk the woman wanted and prepared the cappuccino. The woman accepted her coffee, paid and stepped away quickly, without so much as a glance in either Gavin’s or Haley’s direction.

And that also struck Haley as sad. Why, though, she couldn’t say.

Gavin approached the counter, stopped and turned to face Haley again. This time, she noticed his eyes. Good Lord, the man had a gorgeous set of peepers. Again, she had to search for the right description. They were gray, except they weren’t. And they were blue, except not really that, either. She sighed. Mostly gray with the barest hint of blue. If a name for that exact color, in that precisely right combination of gray and blue existed, she didn’t know what it was.

Beautiful would have to suffice there, as well.

“Your turn,” she said, trying desperately to stop staring into his eyes.

“Actually,” he said in a low drawl that made her skin tingle, her pulse hum, “you should go first. I might be a few minutes. Need to talk with Lola about a … Well, you should go first.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” If she went first, she’d have to walk away, and she wasn’t quite ready to walk away. “You’re ahead of me. That’s the way lines work.”

He squinted his eyes, looked as if he were going to argue, but in the end just shrugged his shoulders and nodded. Faced front again, and set the clipboard on the counter. When he spoke, it was in that deep rumble, so low she had to block out every other sound in order to hear him.

“I’ll take one of those hazelnut lattes, large,” he said. “And I was hoping you might have the time to hear me out on something. If not now, I can wait. Or come back another day.”

“How long you needing?” Lola asked, her tone friendly and curious.

“Not long. Shouldn’t need much, I don’t think.”

Nodding, Lola went to the espresso machine, saying, “Go on, then. I’m listening.”

“Right. Okay.” His spine straightened another fraction and he released a breath. “Well, I’m not sure if you knew this, but for the past year, more really, even before officially moving here, I’ve been working real hard on learning the area and getting all the required licenses. So I can guide folks on hikes and white-water rafting trips, and maybe some climbing—” He paused, drew in another breath. “I have everything in order now. For the summer season, and winter, too, for next season. Skiing and such.”

“That’s an accomplishment, all right,” Lola said. “Good for you.”

“Thank you. So now that I have all the paperwork set, I’m in need of customers, and I don’t really know a lot of the locals yet. Which is why I’m here. I thought I’d check in with you, maybe see if you would be interested in—”

“Me?” Lola inserted with a chuckle. “If I had even a quarter of a mind to go white-water rafting or hiking, I’m sure you’d make an excellent guide. Truth of the matter is, those days are about a decade behind me.” Still chuckling, she steamed the milk while the machine pumped out a double shot of espresso. “Sweet, though, you’d think to ask, and I appreciate it.”

“Ah … Well, see. I didn’t mean it exactly in that fashion, but I don’t believe you’re ever too … or rather, that it’s ever too late to enjoy nature,” he said, stumbling around his words. “But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

It was, Haley decided, very cute. Sweet, even, both his nerves and his earnestness.

Lola grabbed a bottle from the rack of flavored syrups and gestured for him to continue.

“It’s like this,” he said with a small cough. “I made up some … flyers, I’d guess you’d call them, and I was wondering if you might keep some here. Maybe put in a good word for me. In case any of your customers ask about guides or want some pointers or …” He trailed off, pushed the clipboard toward Lola’s side of the counter. “I guess that’s about it.”

Gavin’s entire body tensed as he waited for Lola’s reply, and that, along with the thread of hope she’d heard in his voice, softened her heart into a pile of goo. This mattered to him. And for some reason she didn’t have the answer for, it suddenly mattered to her, too. She shifted to the left, just a tad, and craned her neck to get a better view of the clipboard.

And when she saw the pages clipped there, her gooey heart sank straight to her toes. Oh, dear. While there wasn’t anything acutely wrong with the flyers Gavin had made, they were … basic at best. His name, the services he offered and contact information. Everything was spelled correctly, everything was easy to read. But there also wasn’t anything there, in her mind at least, that would propel a would-be customer to choose Gavin’s services over the multitude of others available in the area. And there were many, many such companies.

Her family’s sporting goods store, for one.

Lola finished preparing Gavin’s coffee, returned to the counter and, after handing him his cup, picked up the clipboard. Now, Haley tensed, waiting and hoping right along with Gavin. Lola wouldn’t say no to such a simple request, would she?

“Your white-water rafting certifications include both the Colorado and the Eagle Rivers?” Lola asked in an easy, conversational tone. “And I take it you’re more than passing familiar with Fish Creek Falls and Rabbit Ears Peak, feel comfortable with the trails?”

“Yes, to all of it,” Gavin said. “Fully state-certified.”

“Hmm. You going to start taking folks up in hot-air balloons, too?”

“What? Um.” Leaning over the counter, Gavin looked at the clipboard, as if thinking that something about hot-air balloon rides had suddenly materialized. “No. Just the hikes and the rafting right now. Maybe climbing, some camping if the interest is there. But I don’t know anything about hot-air balloons, haven’t ever been in a hot—”

“I’m teasing,” Lola said with a boisterous laugh. “And I haven’t been up in one, either.”

“Teasing.” He sort of wagged his head as if the idea of that was beyond him. Also cute and sweet. Sad, too. “Right.”

“What about referrals? And equipment? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy enough to pass on your information, but folks are likely to ask.” Lola gave him a measured look. “And when they do, it would be good if I could answer.”

Without considering the whys, Haley threw herself forward. “Gavin is getting his equipment from us, Lola. From the store. We’ve worked out sort of a … partnership. And you can use my name as a referral. All of us Fosters, actually. We’ve all been working with Gavin, you see, helping him settle in and, well, he’s an excellent guide. Just excellent.”

“Is that so? I’m surprised your mother didn’t mention anything.” The corners of Lola’s lips twitched, and Haley figured she knew the real reason Margaret Foster hadn’t mentioned this partnership with Gavin Daugherty. Because one didn’t exist. Yet. “I’m also surprised you didn’t add that bit of information on these flyers, here, Gavin. Might want to—”

“That’s my fault!” Again without thought, Haley grabbed the clipboard, holding it tight to her chest. “I was supposed to get the flyers and brochures and his website and everything prepared, but I spaced out. Gavin was getting everything moving along.” Now she turned toward Gavin. “I’m really sorry I’ve been so slow. Give me another week, tops.”

Eyes narrowed in speculation, Gavin reached for the clipboard. Haley clutched it tighter and eased her entire body backward. Something akin to surprise filtered into his gaze. “I … No apology necessary, Miss Foster. I am perfectly capable of handling this aspect of our … partnership without your assistance. If I could have my clipboard, please?”

“No. I insist. Really! Besides which, it would help to keep this. For reference, as I’m working on the new copy.” Lola, she saw, was watching them with a fair amount of amused curiosity. Great. She’d probably be on the phone to Haley’s mother within the hour. She thrust her mug toward her, saying, “I would love another chai tea. Please?”

Lola squinted her eyes but nodded. The second she turned away, Gavin whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to help.” Oh, dear Lord, what had she gotten herself into? Cole was surely going to kill her when she tried to convince him to go along with a plan she’d barely conceived of. Still, she wasn’t prepared to back down just yet. “I can help. If you’ll let me.”

He worked his jaw, the muscles clenching and unclenching as he looked at her. “Why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” she repeated. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

His entire expression hardened in disbelief. “People don’t generally offer to help a stranger for no cause. Not without wanting something in return.”

“I am. I want nothing, and in case you haven’t noticed, I am a person, so I’d say you’re wrong on that front.” Why was she arguing this? If he wasn’t inclined to accept her offer, she should let the matter drop. But just like the woman she had to confront, Haley couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this drop. “Just say yes.”

A shot of blue slid into the gray of his eyes, changing them into yet another color she couldn’t name. With a quick shake of his head, he held out his hand. “My clipboard. Please.”

She debated refusing, but really, hadn’t she made enough of a fool out of herself? Before handing it over, she ripped off the topmost page, which she then shoved into her purse.

“Sometimes,” she said, “people just want to help for the sake of helping. If you change your mind, you can usually find me at Foster’s Pub and Grill. I mostly work in the back, in the office, so if you don’t see me, just ask for Haley.”

“I won’t change my mind.” He closed his eyes for a millisecond, muttered under his breath. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know you. I prefer to tend to my own business.”

She nodded, held her shoulders straight. “Okay. The offer stands.”

After another long, steady appraisal, he said, “You’re something, Miss Haley Foster. Definitely something.” He pulled two fives out of his pocket and placed them on the counter. To Lola, he said, “For mine and hers. And I thank you for your time.”

And with that, the mountain man all but marched out of the Beanery, still appearing to be a man very much prepared for a fight. When was she going to learn? She had a habit of doing this, of sticking her foot in where it didn’t belong, where it wasn’t wanted.

“Gee, that didn’t go well,” Haley murmured, accepting the tea from Lola.

“I know what you were doing, and it was sweet of you, but this man … he’s got all sorts of rough edges, kiddo. And I’d estimate that he’s not accustomed to sweetness.” Lola patted her hand and offered a smile. “Very sweet of you, though.”

“You weren’t fooled for a second, were you?”

“Your mom pretty much spills all there is to spill about you kids, so no, not fooled.”

“I tried, I guess.” Another thought occurred to her. “Can you not mention this to my mother? Or anyone else? Um, specifically anyone with the last name Foster?”

“I suppose I can do that.” Lola chuckled. “None of this is my business, now is it?”

“Thanks, Lola.”

The line was lengthening again, so Haley returned to the table she’d shared with Suzette. Rough edges? Not accustomed to sweetness? She knew Lola hadn’t meant to spur her forward with those two comments, but dammit, how could she not try harder?

Chemical response notwithstanding, she liked Gavin Daugherty. Maybe in spite of his rough edges, maybe because of them. She didn’t know, and frankly, didn’t altogether care at the moment. She liked him. And her heart was still a pile of goo.

Sighing, Haley retrieved the flyer from her purse and stared at it, thought about how she should back off and listen to her head for once, and not her heart. That would be the smart thing to do, the practical thing to do. That would be what her brothers would insist she do.

Unfortunately, she mostly ignored her brothers when they insisted she do anything. And listening to her head over her heart? Paying attention to boring old logic instead of her gut? No. She wasn’t very good at those, either. So, really. Why would she start now?

After another minute’s consideration, she decided there were plenty of valid reasons to follow the path of logic, to think instead of feel. But she wasn’t going to.

Logic be damned.

She looked through the window, considered her options, and without another second of hesitation, thrust her arms into her jacket and beelined it toward the door. If she were lucky, she’d be able to catch up to Gavin before he handed out any of those flyers.

After that … Well, she guessed she’d just play it by ear.

Chapter Three

Mind circling with questions, Gavin strode toward his battered pickup truck, berating himself for almost giving in. For that mere second of belief that someone who didn’t know him would actually want to help. He knew better, but dammit, that second of belief had felt good.

More than that. It had felt … possible.

Asinine, that. Why would Haley Foster want to help him, a man she didn’t know, a man who wanted to start a business that could very well cut into some of her family’s income? Didn’t make a lick of sense, and anything that held zero logic raised every one of his red flags.

In his truck, he tossed the clipboard on the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Dammit. He’d been in such an all-fire hurry to leave that he hadn’t left any of the flyers with Lola. So he’d have to go back, but not now. Likely not until he’d found the words to explain that there wasn’t a partnership with the Fosters, that there hadn’t been one to begin with and that no, he had no idea why Haley had claimed otherwise.

Closing his eyes, he rested his head against his seat and exhaled a deep breath, tried to decide his next step. He could stop in at other businesses, as he’d originally planned, but he didn’t feel all that optimistic at the moment. Better to wait until he’d regrouped. Monday, maybe.

Until then, he’d put in some physical labor around his property. Spend the day outside, in the sun, working his muscles until they ached. Yeah. That should do the trick. Of course, if he didn’t start earning more cash than his job at the hardware store gave him, his progress would come to a screeching halt. Not yet, though. He had a little extra left to work with, and plenty he could do with the materials he’d already purchased. Besides, however long it took, it took.

There wasn’t any hurry. So long as he could move forward, he didn’t rightly care how slow that motion was. He opened his eyes and shoved the key into the ignition, started the engine. Home. Work. When the day ended, he’d have put himself back to rights.

And he’d quit thinking about Haley Foster, her nonsensical offer to help and the way her almost-but-not-quite green eyes had stared into his as if she knew him. Shouldn’t be that difficult. She was, after all, just a woman. Not much more than a girl, really. And even if her offer had somehow been up front and honest, he’d meant what he said: he preferred to tend to his own business. Especially when the business in question meant so much.

The Demkos were an aberration in a world of folks who were more concerned for themselves than anyone else. No reason to believe Haley Foster was also an aberration.

With a muffled curse, he shifted into Drive and pulled onto the road. Too much to hope for, maybe, but that didn’t stop him from doing just that. The sensation was uncomfortable and threatening and dammit, he didn’t like it one bit.

Reaching over, he switched on the radio and raised the volume loud enough to block out his thoughts, a maneuver that typically proved successful. Not today, and by the time he arrived home, he’d swept straight past uncomfortable into spitting mad and raring for a fight.

Well, he’d work that out, too.

And he would’ve, no doubt. But not thirty seconds after exiting his truck, a sky-blue compact car pulled in behind him, and the woman at the wheel was none other than Miss Haley Foster herself. She’d followed him home? Who did that?

Forget gumption. The woman was insane, and had zero sense of self-preservation. Hell, as far she knew, he was an ax murderer. Why would she put herself at risk?

He raked his fingers through his hair, silently counted to ten to rein in his irritation, his concern for her that also made no sense. Whatever she was up to, it stopped now. Had to.

Otherwise, he might go and do something stupid. He might just let that hope take root. Or … he might start believing that the rules of the world—his world—had somehow changed. That, he knew, would be a false belief, and when everything righted itself again—which it absolutely would—he’d be worse off.

He couldn’t go there. Wouldn’t let himself go there. Drawing in a deep breath, he marched forward. One way or another, this stopped now.

Perhaps if she hadn’t grown up with three older brothers, Haley would’ve been fooled by Gavin’s nod of greeting and his easy, almost loose gait as he approached. Thanks to Reid, Dylan and Cole, however, she recognized when barely restrained anger darkened a man’s gaze.

So, okay. Chasing after him probably hadn’t been her smartest move. Better, less intense, if she’d used the phone number on the flyer she’d snagged. Given him the chance to get to know her a little before barging into his life uninvited. But she hadn’t been thinking. She’d reacted.

She was here now, though, and she intended to have her say. Then, if he asked—or by the looks of him, ordered—her to leave, she would. Probably. No, she would. Absolutely.

Inhaling a fortifying breath, she unbuckled her seat belt and stepped from the car with her smile in place. Adrenaline pummeled through her, every bit as potent as if she’d downed an entire bottle of caffeine pills with an extra-large cola, and her heart knocked against her breastbone in a too-fast beat. Out of nerves, she told herself. Out of the belief that this—and the man himself—was important, and that she couldn’t screw this up.

He came toward her, his expression serious, his eyes shadowed. Stopped in front of her and appraised her, gave his head that same slow shake she’d seen earlier. “Haley,” he said, his voice gruff and low. “This is … unexpected. Why are you here?”

The way he stood and stared, waiting quietly, raised her nerves another notch. Too bad she hadn’t considered exactly how to go about this, exactly how to explain her instinctual need to follow him. Instead, she grabbed on to the first words that popped into her head, lame as they were, and said, “You ran out of the Beanery so fast, I didn’t have the chance to thank you.”

He blinked. “Thank me?”

“For the tea. And I wanted to thank you. So, um, thanks!”

Creases lined his forehead and his jaw did that clenching, unclenching thing again, and she knew—just knew—he was still working hard to keep his anger at bay. “Are you in some type of trouble that I should know about?”

“Nope. No trouble.”

“There isn’t a crazed boyfriend hot on your heels you need protecting from?”

“Nope,” she repeated, weirdly pleased by this question. She might have taken the opportunity to flirt—just a little—but a chunk of long, loose hair fell into her face. She brushed it aside. “Don’t have any boyfriend at the moment, let alone a crazed one.”

Disbelief coated his expression, and that pleased her, too.

“Your car isn’t making funny noises that have you concerned?” he asked in an even, almost rigid manner. “You’re not ill or injured or in need of any medical attention whatsoever?”

“Car is running great…. Well, maybe not great, but certainly nothing out of the ordinary, and I’m feeling terrific. Really … terrific. I do, however, appreciate your concern.” She widened her smile, batted her eyelashes. “Greatly, even. Very sweet of you to ask.”

“That’s me all right, sweet.” He pushed out a short breath. “And I’m guessing you’re not here to borrow a cup of sugar or to sell me something, correct?”

“Correct! I’m all set in the sugar department. And, I don’t know. Are you looking to buy anything?” Uh-oh. Based on the scowl currently decorating the mountain man’s face, she might have gone a little too far to the flippant side of the equation. “Listen, I really just wanted—”

“Glad you’re all set. Hope you enjoyed the drive here, and take care on the drive back.” With those tersely uttered words, he pivoted and strode in the direction of his truck, his gait no longer easy or loose. Just … bam, he’d heard enough and was done with the conversation.

Unaccustomed to people walking away from her, Haley sucked in a surprised breath. What should she do? Chase after him again, or get in her car and drive away, as he wanted her to? She could almost hear every one of her brothers’ voices chiming in that she should leave. Now. Before she did something she might regret.

Only problem was she didn’t want to leave. If anything, the very fact that Gavin had asked after her well-being when faced with such a peculiar situation spoke volumes. Showed her the strength of his character, she supposed. Maybe even proved her instincts were right all along, which really, she hadn’t doubted. Much.

He was mad. No doubt about it. Frustrated, too, probably. But he’d tempered both emotions and chose, instead, to ascertain that she didn’t require any assistance. Yes, she liked him.

The tight ball of heat returned in her lower stomach, just as intense, just as real as before, shocking her with its strength. Okay, liked was an understatement. A sigh born from her own frustration slipped from her lips. Nope, she wasn’t leaving. Couldn’t, really.

There had to be a way to get through to him.

“Wait!” she hollered. He didn’t pause, didn’t look over his shoulder, just kept on walking in the opposite direction. Feeling very much like a lost puppy—or maybe even a stalker, at least from his perspective—she set off at a half jog on wobbly, Jell-O-filled legs. “Please? I only want a few minutes to talk. I’ll leave then. Promise.”

Whether it was due to the please or the promise, she didn’t know, but he paused and turned, and waited for her to catch up. When she had, he glowered, and the storm that had been brewing reached its momentum and rolled in.

“Are you insane or just naive?” he asked, his temper finally leaking into his voice. “Because following a man home—a man you don’t know, I might add—isn’t very smart. Or safe. Or logical. Or anything you should be doing.”

“Logical, no. I’ll give you that one,” she said calmly, even though he had a point, even though her heart was now pumping so hard, she could hear the beat of it inside her head. “But I’m neither insane nor naive, and I’m able to decide what I should and should not do all on my own. In case you were wondering.”

“You don’t know me,” he repeated, pacing in sort of a half circle in front of her, his boots stirring up mini dust clouds with each step. “Where is your sense of self-preservation? Of caution? Look around you, Haley. Look!”

She didn’t, just kept her focus on him. She’d seen enough driving in, and she knew exactly what he was getting at. Other than the long, skinny, dirt driveway, they were pretty much surrounded by trees. The closest neighbor was several miles down the road, and from where they stood, Gavin’s house—as it sat back a ways, behind more trees—wasn’t all the way visible.

In all likelihood, she could scream at the top of her lungs and not a soul would hear. But she wasn’t afraid, of the remoteness or of Gavin. Angry or not, she was certain he wouldn’t hurt her. As certain as she was of her height, her name, the color of the sky and the scent of freshly baked bread. The knowledge sat inside her with the same solidity, and she didn’t question it.

“My sense of self-preservation is alive and well, thank you very much,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “And I happen to have very good instincts about people. I wouldn’t have come here if I’d had any worries in that regard. I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t say you were an idiot,” he conceded. “But there’s more than one kind of smart, and I’m guessing that no one knows where you are, that you followed a strange man home to a fairly secluded area. I’m guessing that you didn’t give a thought to letting even one person in on where you were headed, what you were doing. Would those be accurate assumptions?”

“Um, yes. But—”

“That’s a problem,” he inserted, halting his pacing. “I’m stronger than you, bigger than you, and dammit, Haley, a different man, a dangerous man, could and would take advantage of such a situation.” He cursed again, rather colorfully. “So I find it hard to believe that you have even an ounce of self-preservation in your entire body, otherwise you would not be here now.”

This exchange, all of it, felt more familiar than it should. Somehow, that flared her own temper into being. Narrowing her eyes, she said, “Yep, you are bigger and stronger, but I know how to protect myself. And yep, you live in a secluded area. Lots of folks around here live in seclusion. There’s nothing new about that, but Gavin, you are not a different man. You are you, and—” she lifted her chin, met his gaze with hers “—you are not a dangerous man.”

“You do not know that!”

“I do know that!” And she did, whether she could put the whys for that into words or not. Maybe she was an idiot, after all. Why hadn’t she just phoned him? Everything was spiraling out of control, and she could only blame herself and her stupid heart-on-sleeve tendencies.

“You can’t know that,” he fired back.

“But I do! Sure, following you home was overkill, so I totally get your side on this.” She stopped and gave herself a mental shake. “I’m sorry for that, really. It was an impulse, I guess. I just wanted to talk to you, and I saw you in your truck, and … here I am.”

“I see.” He stared at her, she stared right back, and somewhere in the few seconds that passed, some of the tension dissipated and a faint glimmer of humor teased into his expression, lightening the storm in his gaze. And her heart melted all over again. “Do you typically have a difficult time controlling your impulses?” he asked. “Or is this something new?”

“You’re the first man I’ve ever followed home,” she admitted. “So that’s new. But I’ve been known to drive to the store at two in the morning for chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream when the impulse strikes, and I’ve perhaps made a few rash decisions here and there.”

Such as when she got the bug to drive to Vegas after a late-night study session in college. But she hadn’t eloped, even when the opportunity presented itself, even though she’d considered it. That was an impulse she’d controlled just fine.

“Look, Haley, you don’t know me—”

“You’ve made that clear. Abundantly.” She almost said she wanted to get to know him. Almost asked him to please, please allow her the gift of getting to know him, but she didn’t.

“Even so, the fact remains that if I were a different type of a man, this could have ended badly,” he said in a slow, purposeful beat. “A lot of people in this world aren’t nice. And I hate the thought of anything bad—” Here, he broke off, as if the words he’d planned on saying got stuck in his throat. “You need to be more careful.”

“Message received.” Another staring competition ensued, and the moment also seemed familiar, almost intimate. When she couldn’t keep the words inside any longer, she said, “I like you, Gavin. I can’t explain why, so don’t ask. But I like you, okay? Sue me.”

His head reeled back, but he didn’t drop his focus. “You’re maddening. Absolutely maddening,” he said under his breath. “And while I can’t say for sure, it seems to me you might want to work on controlling your impulsive nature, before you find yourself in trouble.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little trouble. The right type of trouble, anyway.”

Out of nowhere, the idle thought came to her that if Gavin had been the one proposing in Vegas, she might not have been able to resist. Something else to think about. Later.

“No such thing as the right sort of trouble,” he said.

“I beg to differ.” Determined to eke more light from the darkness, she winked and donned a bright smile. “But I admit you’ve made several valid points, and I’ll take your advice under consideration the next time I have the impulse to trail someone.”

“Uh-huh. Why don’t I believe you?”

“Now you sound like my brothers.” And God, did he ever. Not necessarily a bad thing. Her brothers were rocks, solid and dependable. Of course, she didn’t view Gavin in a brotherly way, but she felt no need to share that information with him.

“Your brothers sound wise,” Gavin said after a slight pause. “And like they love you.”

“They do, and I love them. But let’s keep that wise part between us, shall we?”

Something close to a grin appeared, and oh, how she yearned to see him with a real smile. With nothing but happiness in his eyes, instead of shadows. That also would be a gift.

“You’re something else, Haley Foster,” he said after a long, assessing moment. “What the something is, I haven’t quite decided, but … something.”

“You mentioned that. Earlier.” Then, she’d thought he meant it as a compliment. Now, she wasn’t so sure. “Ten minutes, Gavin. Can you give me that? Please?”

He sighed. “You aren’t going to leave otherwise, are you?”

“No.” She lifted her chin another stubborn inch. “Not until you hear me out. Ten minutes,” she wheedled. “Tops.”

“Does anyone ever say no to you?”

“Yes. Fairly often, in fact.” Usually, though, she found ways to sidestep those noes until they became yeses. Or simply pretended she hadn’t heard the no to begin with. “Feel free to say no. Really. Doesn’t mean I’ll hear it, though.”

“I figured as much,” he mumbled in resignation. “Go on, then. Say whatever it is you came here to say before I change my mind.”

Mentally, she pumped her fist in the air and did the victory dance. In reality, she reminded herself to take it slow. Careful. She started with, “I surprised you when I offered to help at the Beanery. Sometimes, I get ahead of myself, and I didn’t handle that all that well.”

“Agreed” was all he said. But the corners of his mouth curved upward the slightest amount, and that … Well, that was a start, and she’d take it. “Go on.”

“I would like to explain myself more fully, and then, once I have, I’m hoping you’ll reconsider. I am serious about this, and I already have a few ideas, and I think—”

“Nope,” he said instantly, quietly. “Don’t think I’ll be reconsidering, though I appreciate your … perseverance.”

“Really, Gavin? You won’t hear me out?”

“No reason to.” Another barely there shake of his head. “There isn’t anything you could say on this topic that would make a difference.”

“You don’t know that.” When he started to object, she rushed forward, saying, “You might think so, but you don’t. And while I can’t guarantee my family will agree to a … collaboration, I guess that’s the word, I think it’s a possibility worth looking into.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Calm, collected. But the hint of a grin was gone.

“Okay, look,” she said hurriedly, before he ordered her to leave again. “Even if they don’t want to move forward, I can still help. With the flyers and other advertising, your website, and I can certainly help get the word out. I’m pretty good at that stuff.”

“Which again brings up the question—why?” Before she could reply, he held up a hand. “That question doesn’t require an answer, and I shouldn’t have asked it. I’ve heard enough. Some things are just the way they are. Some people do better on their own. Simple as that.”

“Nothing is that simple.”

“This is. Seriously, Haley, I think it’s … generous to be so giving, but relying on others isn’t my thing. Period. Never has been, never will be, and I don’t see that changing.”

“Ever?”

“Ever,” he confirmed, without doubt or hesitation.

Well, hell. His conviction was clear and absolute. She couldn’t deny it, even though she wished she could. There was nothing else to do or say, nothing at all that would change his mind, to even convince him to listen to her. And strangely, the realization hurt.

Strangely, she had the sense of almost achieving something of great worth, and the loss of that indefinable something weighed heavily inside, in the air, in every breath she took.

Yeah, it hurt. More than she understood.

“I feel sorry for you,” she said softly. “Because I’m a good person, and I believe you’re a good person, and yeah, I definitely have impulse-control issues. But, Gavin, here I am, offering to help. Offering you … friendship, and you’re too proud or stubborn or something else, something I can’t identify, to even try. And I think that’s sad.”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t look as if he were even breathing, as if he even cared that she’d put herself out there. Well, why would he? Why should he? As he’d said over and over and over, she didn’t know him. And, well, he didn’t know her. In his head, she was just some crazy chick who’d had the audacity to follow him home. Really, she couldn’t blame him.

It was her turn to walk away, and so she did. The sensation of that incredible loss stayed with her as she trekked back to her car. In this scenario, she knew she’d misfired. There were so many other ways she could have gone about this. Better ways. More logical ways.

Hindsight, she decided, was the devil.

She tried to tell herself that she was being silly and over-emotional. Maybe even believed both to a certain degree. But when she tried to convince herself that, perhaps, Gavin’s refusal was for the best, and she’d see the wisdom of his rejection down the road someday, she couldn’t buy into the mind-set. All of this just felt wrong.

Almost heartbreakingly so.

At her car, she stopped for a second to regain her balance. Birds were singing, tree branches swayed and the cool bite of the wind touched her cheeks. All of which served to settle her mind and ease her whipped-up emotions. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d tried. Which, really, was about all anyone could do. There wasn’t any reason to kick herself over it.

Not for very long, at any rate.

She’d stop at the store for a pint of ice cream, go home, find another movie to watch or a book to read. Settle in and relax. By nightfall, she’d have put her encounter with Gavin into the proper, noncrazy perspective and she would return to normal. Hopefully, the nonitchy, nonrestless state of normal. If not, she’d go back to waiting for summer and twelve-hour workdays.

A sensible plan, for sure. She reached for the car door, her intent to follow through, when a hand lightly gripped her shoulder. Her muscles froze and her heart picked up speed. Heat flared and wove its way through her limbs, raising goose bumps on her skin and warming her from the inside out, inch by delicious inch. He’d followed her? Wow … just wow.

“Why do you want to be my friend?” Gavin asked slowly, hesitantly, from behind her. “What—what propelled you to make such a decision when you have no idea who I am?”

She didn’t turn, didn’t move, didn’t even take in air. “I don’t know, not fully,” she said, going with honesty. “There’s something about you that calls to me, and I want to know what that something is. I want to get to know you, and I. Well, I think … that is, I believe, that you’re a person very much worth getting to know. If you’ll let me.”

His hand tightened on her shoulder. Not a lot, but enough to know that her words had impacted him on some level. Silence enveloped her, them, for what could have been one second or a million years. Tracking the passage of time became inconsequential.

Then the deep rumble of his voice hit her ears again. “If the offer still stands, I’d like to take you up on it. The friendship part, if not the other.”

Tears, unbidden and totally unexpected, filled Haley’s eyes. This admittance was also important, also held weight and conviction. And she felt every ounce of that importance, that weight and conviction to the tips of her toes. In her heart, as well.

Maybe even in her soul.

“That is an offer that doesn’t have an expiration date,” she said, purposely keeping her tone light and breezy. “So yes, Gavin, the offer very much still stands.”

“Okay, then,” he said. And darn if she didn’t hear surprise and disbelief in those two little words. That was fine. He’d discover soon enough that she didn’t tend to say anything she didn’t mean. “Are you hungry?” he asked, still hesitant, still disbelieving. “I could make us some lunch, if you are. If you’d like to stay for a while.”

“Starving, actually.” One breath in, and then another, and she dropped her keys in her purse. Twisted her body toward the mountain man, looked into his gray-blue eyes, and pieces somewhere deep inside that she hadn’t known were broken became connected, and the world felt … whole. She smiled. “I would love to stay. What’s on the menu?”

“Ah … I guess I don’t know. Let’s go see what I have.”

He reached for her hand, stopped midmotion. Looked at her with uncertainty and something else—yearning, she decided—and a few more broken pieces reconnected. The odd sensation of a great loss disappeared. Yes, this man was important. Vitally so.

For now, she brought her hand to his and squeezed. He nodded, tightened his grip on hers, and together they walked hand in hand toward his house, neither speaking.

Logic be damned. Because she knew, in a way she had never known one other thing in her life thus far, that this connection was what she’d been waiting for. All of her loneliness, itchiness, restlessness came down to this, to one man, to Gavin Daugherty.

He was the reason. He was the cure.

He was who she’d been waiting for. She knew it. When the Fosters fell, they fell hard. And they fought just as hard for what and who they believed in, cared for, loved. Too soon by a large margin to declare love for Gavin, but the promise of that emotion was there.

Sure. Strong. Real.

And in this moment, with her hand clasped in his, with the sun shining on their shoulders, the promise, the potential of love, was more than enough. It was a beginning, maybe their beginning. So she would hope she was right, she would hope that Gavin had also been waiting for her, even if he hadn’t recognized her just yet. She would believe and hope he would.

It was, after all, the Foster way.

Chapter Four

A sane man didn’t willingly invite a hurricane into his home, but somehow, Gavin thought he had done just that by asking Haley to stay for lunch. What had he been thinking? Well, he hadn’t thought. The invitation had shot from his mouth before his brain had grasped on to the numerous—not to mention, sticky—ramifications.

And she’d said yes. So now the expectation was that he’d feed her. Talk to her. And that right there was enough to make him sweat.

He blinked and tried to focus on the contents of the cupboard he’d opened instead of the kick of acid in his stomach. Lunch wasn’t a big deal. Or it shouldn’t be. But the kitchen was torn apart, stuck in the middle of a renovation Gavin hadn’t come close to finishing. Everything functioned, but he’d ripped out the tile, had painstakingly removed three layers of peeling wallpaper and, yesterday, had started the process of sanding the walls.

In other words, the room was a disaster. A dusty, not-fit-for-entertaining-anyone, let-alone-a-woman, let-alone-a-woman-like-Haley, disaster.

The real problem, though, was that he hadn’t shopped yet this week, so his pantry was just about bare. Three cans of tomato soup, one mostly empty jar of peanut butter, half a loaf of bread—just this side of stale—and two cans of pork and beans stared back at him.

Not just bare offerings, but dismal.

“This wasn’t a good idea,” he muttered to himself. Closing the cupboard door with a hard snap, he shook off the descending cloud of humiliation—he had nothing to be ashamed of—and said, “As you can see, the kitchen isn’t exactly fit, and I forgot I haven’t shopped this week. Unless you have a hankering for pork and beans, I think we should plan this for another day.”

Or never. Because really, regardless of her words about friendship or the intense way those words had hit him, they had nothing in common. Would never have anything in common. No reason to start something that wouldn’t have any place to go. Right. That made sense. A solid mix of relief and regret stirred in his gut, equal in strength. He didn’t allow himself time to dwell on either. In less than five minutes, Haley would leave. He’d sort out the rest on his own.

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Even I can see that you’re revamping the kitchen, and I don’t mind a little mess. Remember, I grew up with three brothers.” She stepped up behind him, so damn close he got a strong whiff of her shampoo. Apple, he guessed.

“That’s kind of you,” he said, recognizing—and hating—the note of desperation in his voice. “Doesn’t alter the fact I don’t have any real food in the house.”

“I’m not a picky eater.” Reaching around him as if she hadn’t heard him, as if she’d stood in this kitchen every blessed day of her life, she opened the cupboard door he’d just shut. His desperation doubled. “Look, there’s plenty to choose from. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I wouldn’t call plenty an accurate description. And who said I was worried?”

“Sufficient, then,” she said. “And you looked worried, with the way your face was all scrunched up and how you kept pulling at your beard.”

“The beard itches,” he retorted. True enough, but her comment made him self-conscious. “My face was not scrunched up, and I’m not worried. At all.”

“Good. Because you shouldn’t be. You have tomato soup, and if we add a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches, we’ll have an excellent lunch. One of my favorites, actually.”

He blinked again. Yup, a freaking hurricane. Maybe not a category nine, but he’d wager a solid six. Possibly as high as a seven.

“Mine, as well.” What, exactly, would it take to dissuade this woman? Trying again, in a resolute, no-arguments-accepted tone, he said, “Difficult, though, to make grilled cheese sandwiches without cheese. Or butter. So again, I think it would be best to put this off until—”

“I’m here. You’re here. I’m starving, so I’m sure we can come up with something,” she said stubbornly, her gaze fixated on the cupboard, as if a team of elves had miraculously stocked his shelves in the past thirty seconds. “Besides which, you invited me. Remember?”

“That I did, though at the moment I can’t quite recall why.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said with a fair amount of amusement. “Would be unfair to back out now. Rude, too. You wouldn’t want that, now would you? Not when I’m starving and all.”

He scratched at his beard, realized what he was doing and stopped. Stared at the back of her head. Unfair and rude, huh? She had him good and stuck. It seemed that nothing short of an actual hurricane would get her out of his kitchen. He should be annoyed, ready to physically carry her from his home. Instead, he felt something reminiscent of pleasure at her insistence.

Another sensation he refused to dwell on.

Shaking his head, he metaphorically held up his hands in surrender. “I guess not, seeing as you’re starving. And here, apparently refusing to leave.”

With these words, her entire body seemed to soften and she expelled a short breath. Somehow, these small details didn’t escape Gavin’s attention. A fact that didn’t set him at ease or help loosen the hard knot of apprehension in his gut. She rattled him, plain and simple.

Every last thing about her.

“Well, I think we’ll stick with the tomato soup and exchange the grilled cheese sandwiches for peanut butter toast,” she said as she grabbed the necessary items and deposited them on the counter. “Sounds perfect, don’t you think?”

Peanut butter and tomato in the same meal? Closer to revolting, but he wasn’t about to argue. All that would do was prolong this visit. “Sure,” he drawled. “Absolutely perfect.”

“And here you were, about to send me away for no reason at all.”

“Can’t imagine what I was thinking.”

“Me, either.” Nodding toward the refrigerator, she said,

“May I?”

Shocked she’d even bothered to ask, he shrugged. “Seems you’re in charge here, so why not? Though you won’t find much. I don’t keep a lot of supplies on hand.”

“Typical bachelor.” Without pause, she opened the fridge, took stock of its contents—also meager—and pulled out the milk and two containers of yogurt. “For dessert,” she said.

“What? No appetizers?”

“Wow, was that a joke, Mr. Serious?”

“More like ill-timed sarcasm,” he said. Remorse crept in, overriding every other conflicting emotion he had going. She was here because he’d invited her to be here. Wasn’t her fault he didn’t know how to deal with people. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why? I appreciate a good one-liner.”

“Right. Well, um, I guess—”

“Tell you what,” she broke in, obviously noticing his discomfort. “I’ll heat up the soup if you get me a saucepan. I can’t cook much, but I can handle canned soup without too much difficulty.”

“Nope.” He didn’t know a lot about entertaining, but he knew a guest shouldn’t do the cooking. “You’re a guest. Sit down. I’ll cook.”

“I don’t sit well for very long,” she countered. “You’ll have to give me a job, or—” she paused and a glimmer of light appeared in the depths of her eyes “—actually, that’s a fine idea. I can sit back and relax, ask you questions while you cook. I have a ton of them.”

And then, she actually winked at him. Winked!

“No!” he damn near yelled. Whatever questions Miss Haley Foster might find appropriate to ask, he wasn’t prepared to hear—or answer. He didn’t know her well, but he’d seen enough of her personality to have zero doubts on this front. She’d go for the personal, and he didn’t do personal. With anyone. “I, uh, a job, huh?”

“Yes, please,” she said sweetly, with a bat of her eyelashes.

“I guess you could set the table. Toast the bread, too, if you’d like.” She grinned, wide and … saucy. Since when he had started using terms like saucy to describe a woman’s smile? Glancing away, he said, “Will that be enough to keep you from sitting still for too long?”

“Works for me,” she agreed in the same sweet way. “I’ll just save my questions until we’re eating. It’ll be more fun talking then, anyway. And you’ll be able to pay more attention.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, resisted the urge to yank at his beard. If he wasn’t absolutely positive he stood on solid ground, he’d have sworn the floor shook and swayed. “You do that,” he said, gruffer than he’d intended. “Don’t set your hopes too high, though. I’m not what is known as a chatty guy.”

“Again, this proves how well we’ll get along. I am very chatty.”

“There’s a shocker,” he said.

“And another one-liner!” Her lips quirked again, and he readied himself for whatever she was going to throw at him next. “I bet that you’re far more sociable than you think you are.”

“You’d lose that bet.”

“Hmm. I’m a decent judge of character.”

“Decent isn’t perfect, and I’d bet I know myself better than you.”

“Maybe.” A flyaway strand of hair fell into her eyes. She pursed her lips, puffed, and the strand of hair blew to the side. “Maybe not.”

If she were his to touch, he’d walk over, pull that contraption from her hair, and— Stop, he ordered his brain, right now. Damn good advice, that, so he tossed the words, the image, as far away as possible and searched for balance. Peace. And found none.

She stared at him, her eyes filled with curiosity, and he was positive that she did have the ability to see right into his head, to read every last thought he had. Coughing to break the moment, the intensity of her gaze, he pointed toward the cupboard on the other side of the stove. “Dishes are there. You’ll find silverware in the drawer below. I don’t have fancy stuff.”

Now, why’d he have to go and say something like that?

“I’m not a fancy girl.” With a smart-alecky salute and a sashay of her hips, she walked to where he’d pointed. “Napkins?”

“Nope. I use paper towels.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Saving it up, he was sure. Should he talk? Probably. About what? He fought to find some topic of conversation that would make it appear as if he were comfortable and not ready to jump clean out of his skin. Nothing worthwhile came to mind, so he quit thinking and focused on his one and only task: heating the darn soup. The sooner they ate, the sooner she’d leave, the sooner he’d be able to breathe again.

They worked around each other, neither speaking. He heard her gather the dishes and silverware, and just as at the Beanery, he felt her presence even when he couldn’t see her. She had an energy that was, at once, vivid and warm. Saturating and, yes, life-affirming. It bounced around the room, around him, in a way that somehow made him feel more whole. Real.

Dammit all. She really did remind him of the sun.

The thought didn’t sit with him any better than it had before, so he inhaled a deep breath into his lungs and stirred the soup. Kept right on stirring, because he wasn’t sure what else to do with himself. He should’ve let her take care of the soup, as she’d wanted. Then, at least, he’d have been mobile and not stuck inside his own head making ridiculous comparisons. Next time, he’d let her— No. There wouldn’t be a next time.

Couldn’t be a next time when he wasn’t sure he would survive this time.

Suddenly, there she was, standing beside him and putting the bread into the toaster. Too close for comfort. A weird sense of familiarity appeared. Almost like déjà vu. If he let himself, he might be able to believe that this—preparing a meal, sharing space with each other—had happened before. Many, many times before. And would happen again.

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