She wasn’t oblivious to the privilege of being able to charter a flight to Overlook Ridge just because she needed some time to think and the perspective of distance to do it in.
“Watch out over there,” Ash warned, jutting her head to indicate a loose bit of rock beneath Lana’s boots.
Nodding gratitude at Ash’s warning, she braced her feet wider for stability. Sometimes in business, one had to step back from the minutiae that could bog a project down. Stand back and really see the project as the whole it was supposed to be, not the individual parts.
Moose Springs was Lana’s project, and lately, she’d been far too bogged down in the tiny details. Tiny details were important, but Lana had been raised to see the big picture first. Thirty thousand feet worked better when one was in an airplane, but three thousand feet worked too.
“There aren’t a lot of roads in and out of town, are there?”
Ash glanced at her. “Not many, but we keep them clear. Why?”
“I’m trying to see this from a different angle,” Lana said. “I know what the group wants for Moose Springs, and I know what Moose Springs wants for Moose Springs. I’m trying to see if there’s another way to look at it. There’s nothing else around here, is there?”
“No,” Ash grunted, crossing her arms. “Just us and the rest of the mountains.”
“And Moose Springs used to be a mining town?”
“They closed the mines a long time ago. No one’s opening them back up, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Lana shook her head. “I’m trying to imagine what would be here if the resort was gone. Why people would be here. How far they’d have to go to find work.”
Opening her mouth then shutting it again, Ash must have decided to keep her thoughts to herself. At least initially.
“We’d find something,” she finally said. “We’re not that easy to take out.”
“In the meantime, how many of the town would you lose to Anchorage?”
A crease of concern crossed Ash’s brow. “I honestly don’t know.”
They fell silent, and Lana took in the scenery. Mount Veil remained a formidable monster in the distance. Maybe, somehow, the answer could be there.
Suddenly, Lana’s companion cleared her throat. “Hey, do me favor,” Ash said. “We’ll call this even on fuel and hours flown.”
“No special tourist rate?” Lana asked.
“I don’t know what you are.” Ash shrugged. “But you don’t count as a tourist anymore.”
She was making progress. Slow progress was still progress.
“You know my buddy Rick? The one you nearly took out with a tranq gun?”
His name brought a warmth that her cold weather gear couldn’t come close to comparing to. “I’ve had the pleasure of his acquaintance,” Lana said.
“If he ever gets up the balls to ask you out, let him down easy, okay? He’s had a tough time of it, and at some point, he needs to start putting himself out there again. The idiot has a thing for you, and we haven’t been able to talk him out of it. He’ll probably say something soon. Just don’t laugh in his face. Please.”
That “please” was quiet, the appeal of a worried friend.
“I wasn’t aware we came up here to discuss my love life,” Lana said.
“Trust me, it’s not high on my to-do list.” Ash dropped down into a squat, then folded her arms over her knees. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I do. I’m not sure why…” Eyeing her, Ash gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s a part of me that buys into the whole caring about what happens to all of us. The difference is, I think the town will be better if everyone else on the planet forgets we’re here.”
“The business owners might disagree.”
“Only half of them. The other half will breathe a sigh of relief. The way I see it, you have to adapt to stay alive. That’s what some people did. They adapted to adjust to the influx of tourists. It doesn’t mean we can’t adapt our way back to normal. It might be hard, but we’re tough. We can make it.”
“Trust me, the last thing I’d ever doubt is how strong this town is.” Lana meant it completely. In all her travels, she’d never met a group of people with half as much sheer grit as the townsfolk of Moose Springs.
“We’re tough, but we’re not bulletproof.” Ash took a deep breath in the thin, cold air, exhaling a puff similar to smoke. “Rick…he’s one of the great guys. But I’ve been watching him since his divorce, and he’s just not that adaptable. He won’t do well with you.”
Suddenly, the town below her wasn’t nearly as interesting as what Ash was saying. “What do you mean?”
“You breeze into town, and you breeze back out again. For some reason, he’s developed this thing for you, but he’s not like you. He takes it seriously. And if he asks you out, he’ll mean it. Don’t play with him, okay? A regular Friday night for you will be the first date he’s been on since Jen. It’ll mean more to him, and he’ll get hurt.”
It took a lot to insult Lana, but in her well-meaning request, Ash had managed it. Hearing Ash’s breakdown of who Lana was and how she was no good for Rick went straight through her like a strike of cold air.
She probably shouldn’t mention the “hey baby” date. If Lana had known that was his first date since his divorce, she would have let him buy her that drink.
Standing, Ash nodded to herself. “Let him down easy. He’ll get over it.”
Lana wanted to tell Ash she was wrong. That she didn’t know Lana at all. But really, was she completely wrong? Her days in Moose Springs were numbered. A week or two a few times a year was the best she could give anyone. And a man like Rick deserved more than that.
Except it was her life too. Her stressful, exhausting, lonely life. And it wasn’t as if she was going to break his heart. Rick knew how much Lana had to give—they’d already talked about that. And if he was still interested despite her glaring flaws, Lana was more than interested in him. The man had been in her thoughts constantly, and Lana was done fighting herself over what she wanted. Rick was like Moose Springs. He was worth the risk.
“Did you get what you needed from this?” Ash asked. “The winds are changing. We need to get down.”
“Of course,” was all Lana could say.
* * *
Rick had finished vacuuming the tables and replacing the used-up chalks when Lana came through the door like a mini avalanche. Dressed head to toe in white, she was the prettiest—and most intimidating—abominable snowperson he’d ever seen.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Lana asked, flushed and breathless, as if she had rushed over there.
Rick’s brain stopped working the moment he saw her, every single damn time, but this time, it refused to give him a single response.
“With you?” No. That had been the wrong answer.
“You and me, dinner whenever and wherever you choose. I’m buying, and you’re driving.”
“I’m driving.” It was like he’d turned into a man-shaped single-celled organism.
“If you want to go.” Her eyes dropped, her wind-reddened cheeks flushing deeper in color.
His brain finally kick-started again, ungluing his tongue from the back of his teeth. “And here I thought I was shooting too high asking you out for coffee.”
Glorious dark eyes blinked. “Did I miss you asking me out for coffee?”
“Only half a dozen times in my head.” Rick tried to keep the slow, stupid smile off his face. “How about tomorrow?”
It did wonderful things for his self-esteem when the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen in his life blushed, saying, “Pick me up at six.”
Chapter 7
When Rick told Lana he’d take her out, he hadn’t had any certain place in mind. The entire thing was a blur of her waltzing into his place and blowing his mind and some awkward gutt
ural responses on his part assuring him of the impossible. Somehow, because the universe had turned itself inside out and flipped upside down a few times, Rick had a dinner date with Lana Montgomery.
His dream girl. Dream woman. She was definitely his dream woman.
No one in his inner circle seemed to be able to wrap their heads around this change of events either. Ash seemed confused, then kind of put out, although he had no idea why. Graham groaned and told him to gird his loins. Even Easton texted Rick a rare message, albeit a more positive well-wish of “Congrats, have fun.”
Out of all of them, other than Rick himself, Diego seemed to be struggling with it the most.
“I can’t believe you have a second date with Lana Montgomery.”
Rick had listened to the same words repeated from his nephew’s mouth for the last twenty-four hours. “You don’t have to look so surprised,” he grumbled. “We went out once, didn’t we?”
“Did you? A glass of water and a hug isn’t exactly a real date.”
“And sitting off to the side while Quinn hangs out with her other friends is?”
Diego rolled his eyes and offered Rick a dirty look, making Rick chuckle. Apparently, of the two of them, Rick was winning their dating wager. Their “hey baby” evening had felt like the start of something between Rick and Lana. Poor Diego had asked Quinn out, and the girl had thought it was just as friends. Diego had been too embarrassed to correct the misunderstanding.
The f-word. Rick had never been happier to not be in the friend zone. It was much better to be in the should-he-wear-a-tie zone.
Rick adjusted his tie, readjusted it, then took it off and very calmly stuffed it in the trash. Jen had gotten him that tie. He was not bringing her on his date with Lana Montgomery.
“Is it bad that I keep adding her last name to her first when I think about her?” Rick asked.
“It’s not good.” Diego tilted his head. “Seriously though. Where the hell are you two going to go? It’s Lana Montgomery.”
“See? You’re doing it too.”
Rick reached for another tie, this one with snowflakes on it. “Do you think she likes blue?”
“I think you’re screwed.” Diego’s brow furrowed. “Who’s running the pool hall? You didn’t close, did you? You don’t get enough business to piss people off.”
Rick wasn’t so utterly incompetent as to not get someone to cover for him. He almost said so, but it was nice the kid cared.
“Easton has been there for the last hour.” Rick ditched the snowflake tie and lobbed it toward his bed. “I told him to call you when he gets tired of it.”
Maybe no tie would work?
“Answer the phone if he calls. I promised him backup.”
Diego snorted. “What made you assume I don’t have plans too?”
For the same reason it never occurred to anyone that Rick might have plans. They were two bachelor peas in a cereal-eating pod.
“Do you have plans?”
When Diego said nothing, Rick walked out into the living room and aimed a kick at the back of the couch.
“Fine, fine,” his nephew grouched. “It’s not like my ass has anything better to do.” He added in a low mutter, “Quinn’s out with Grass.”
Four words that Diego would never say in front of anyone else. As unrequited crushes went, that one was going on strong. Rick clapped a sympathetic hand to his nephew’s shoulder.
“You’re not wearing a tie?” Diego asked.
“Should I?”
“How should I know?”
The two stared at each other. Yeah. This was going to go fabulously.
Diego started smirking, earning a light growl from Rick. “Shut up.”
The kid was too smart for his own good, his eyes catching on something Rick had accidentally left out. “Dude, what are these?”
Rick grabbed for the stack of index cards he’d left on the coffee table next to his wallet and phone, but Diego was faster than he was.
“Compliment her appearance?” Diego turned over the card and read the other side. “No politics or religion?” He dropped down to the couch, laughing so hard, tears streamed down his face. “This is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.”
A second, somewhat offended growl escaped Rick’s throat. “I haven’t been on a dinner date in a while.”
“You can’t walk into a restaurant with a stack of cheat cards.”
“It’s better than staring at her and saying nothing. And I’m not going to bring them,” Rick added, reaching for the cards again. “I’m just studying them.”
“Like this is a test? Wow, you’re pathetic. Here, try it out on me.”
“I’m not using a card on you. You’re my nephew.”
Diego smirked. “And I’m not dealing with you dragging your sorry ass back in here after you crash and burn. Compliment me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Glare for glare, neither one of them backed down. Finally, Rick groaned. The kid had a point.
“Fine, but you can’t make fun of me.” Rick dropped on the other end of the couch, the notecards in his lap. Diego sat there, waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more.
“Are you seriously not going to say anything to me?”
“This is weird,” Rick grumbled.
Diego rolled his eyes from beneath his baseball cap. “Tell me you like my hair or some shit.”
“I can’t see your hair.”
“Fine. Tell me you like my shoes.” Diego kicked his dirty tennis shoes up on the coffee table. The part of Rick that appreciated his coffee table not being covered in a day’s worth of mud and snow grimaced. Diego waggled his toes pointedly.
“I don’t like your shoes. They’re disgusting. Buy some new ones. And I’m not practicing lying to her.”
“Then find something you do like about me.” Diego waited while Rick thought about it. “Really? It’s not that hard, asshole.”
“It’s not that easy.” Rick couldn’t help but grin at the deeply offended expression on Diego’s face.
“Whatever, man. I don’t need this. Enjoy blowing it.”
Still, Diego sat there while Rick fiddled with the stack of cards.
“You’re loyal.” Rick didn’t look at the kid as he stared out the window. “When Jen left, I thought you would go with her. Real glad that you stayed.”
Diego cleared his throat, as uncomfortable receiving a compliment as he was giving them. “Aunt Jen didn’t appreciate you the way she should have.”
Rick opened his mouth to defend his ex, but Diego grunted sourly, cutting him off.
“You put up with a lot from me when you could have sent me to the state. Every lie I told you, every time I snuck out. All the fights I got into. You never kicked me out, even though I deserved it.”
“You were hurting,” Rick said quietly. “You’d lost a lot. You didn’t need to lose more.”
Diego didn’t answer, because they never talked about that. The car accident that had taken his family—including Jen’s sister, Diego’s mother—was a topic permanently off-limits.
Instead, he cleared his throat, and Rick continued to stare out the window until whatever Diego was feeling had been shoved as deep inside as the kid could force it. Rubbing a rough hand over his eyes, like maybe he’d had an itch to scratch, Diego leaned over and took the cards from Rick. He slouched down in the couch a little more as he read the top card.
“What are three topics you shouldn’t bring up?” Diego asked.
“Politics, religion, and exes.” Rick had been studying.
“Three topics you should bring up?”
“Her job, her interests, her future dreams and endeavors.”
Making a face, Diego said, “That sounds awful.”
Rick stood. “Yeah, but she’s awfully pretty
. I’m going to have to wing the rest of these. I need to go pick her up.”
Diego didn’t wish him luck, but Rick didn’t expect him to. It was enough to know that if this went bad, there would be a bowl of cereal waiting for him when he limped back home. He’d cleaned his car, filled it with gas, and double-checked the oil and antifreeze. He’d showered, shaved, and done his best not to look like an idiot. The only thing left was not to be late. The rest…well…he didn’t know. Rick wasn’t good with this kind of thing, and he never had been. Lana Montgomery was about to realize how big of a mistake she’d made asking him out. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Rick started the engine and then sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel.
“You can do this. Her name is Lana,” Rick repeated to himself. “Just Lana.”
* * *
Lana had learned early the way to hold the power in a room was to know exactly the outfit everyone else would be wearing and then wear something a touch more. In a room where everyone had their hair up, wear her hair down. In a room of two-inch heels, have two-and-a-half-inch heels. Order champagne when everyone else drank wine. Decline the champagne when everyone else was drinking it and sip a scotch on the rocks instead.
In a world of pencils, have a pen.
The problem with her upbringing was the one-upmanship wasn’t a rule, it was a way of life. But Lana hadn’t been on a date in years with a man she liked anywhere close to as much as she liked Rick. In an effort to make herself perfect for this date, she was second-guessing everything.
“While I understand the need to bring in reinforcements,” Zoey said as she applied Lana’s eyeliner, “I’m not sure I count.”
“Nonsense. I have absolutely no business holding any sort of beauty product. I’m liable to poke my eye out, and then where would I be?”
“The most beautiful woman I know in an eye patch.”
Not for the first time, Lana wondered if Zoey had any clue how talented she was as a makeup artist. Tonight was important to Lana, so she’d requested the use of the resort’s salon. Under the professional lighting of the beautician’s station and with full use of all Lana’s beauty supplies, Zoey was putting Lana into passable shape. More than passable if she knew her friend. A rock steady hand with liquid eyeliner was Zoey’s superpower.
Mistletoe and Mr. Right Page 15
