“I told you that you can call me Leo, and I’m a market research analyst.”
“I’ve never met a girl named Leo before.” That came from the gamer boy and I couldn’t help but smile at his totally baffled look.
“It’s not very common. My grandpa used to call me his little lion when I was a little girl. It kind of stuck.”
Emrys lifted her eyebrows and cocked her head in my direction. “She’s also the queen of the concrete jungle and has a roar you can hear from miles and miles away.”
Her explanation made almost everyone in the room chuckle, including Lane, who must have overheard them as he came back into the room from the kitchen. Once he was done laughing he declared dinner would be served in just a few more minutes. Apparently, the biscuits had burned and we were waiting on a second batch. He shifted his attention back to me and decided he wasn’t done with the conversation about my name. “It’s the hair. It’s the same color as a lion’s mane. I can totally see why he called you that.”
I let out a huff and lifted a self-conscious hand to the curly tresses trapped in the pigtails on either side of my head. Clearly the nickname was fitting for a lot of reasons, though lately, my roar had faded into more of a whimper.
I found my gaze locked on Cy as he tilted his head to the side and considered me for a long and silent minute. “So, you spend your days figuring out how to get people to part with their money, getting them to spend it on stuff they really don’t need?”
I felt my spine stiffen and my fingers involuntarily curled into a fist on the top of my thigh under the table, where I hoped no one could see. I schooled my features into an even mask and nodded in what I hoped was a polite and neutral way. I had heard that my job was manipulative, that it was invasive and calculating, from a wide variety of people. For some reason, I really didn’t want to hear that from him. I wanted to appear successful, secure, confident . . . even if I wasn’t feeling any of those things at the moment—especially in front of him, and more importantly, about my current job security.
My response was cool and as unemotional as I could make it. “I do. I study market trends, spending habits, price points, and consumer behavior. The way people shop, why they choose one product over another . . . it is a science.” I motioned to the meticulously decorated dining room we were in and scrunched up my nose as the smell of fried chicken got stronger. “Humans are programmed to respond to our senses. When a company or a business knows how to appeal to as many of those senses as possible, they will inevitably come out ahead of the competition. For example, if you could put how heavenly that fried chicken smells on your website, you guys wouldn’t have any kind of competition when it comes to booking guests. Their stomachs would book the trip for them.”
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing? I love to hear nice things being said about my food.” A gentle voice, laced with humor and warmth, had me turning my head and my mouth falling open a little bit in surprise as a woman, who was every bit as lovely and as exotically beautiful as Emrys, came waltzing around the end of the table with a large serving tray in her hands. She didn’t look like a Brynn. Her name should be something lyrical and exotic that was impossible to pronounce and spell. She didn’t look like a woman who should be toiling away in a kitchen on a secluded ranch in the middle of nowhere.
Nope . . . she looked like a woman who should be on the cover of a Victoria’s Secret catalog or attached to the arm of a NFL player while making the rounds in the tabloids.
“It smells amazing and authentic. People are willing to pay a lot of money for authentic.” The words sounded stiff as they worked around my shock at how pretty and welcoming she was.
She laughed and it was airy and tinkling. She seemed so happy and easygoing as she hustled tray after tray of food onto the massive table. Her smile was effortless, and she chatted with all the stonily silent guests like it was no big thing. Her attitude was bubbly and infectious even when she was gifted with awkwardness and silence in return. I found myself wanting to smile just because she was smiling and I still wanted to tackle hug her because after the first bite of the buttery, flaky biscuit and crispy hot chicken, I knew I would never taste anything better in my life.
Emrys was talking to Lane about playing guitar since he was pictured with one on the brochure. He launched into a story about learning to play so he could pick up chicks, which made her laugh and toss her head back. The two silent men were picking at their plates like they didn’t realize they had just been handed food from the gods, their eyes silently assessing everyone else around the table in an unnervingly intense way. The family of four was making awkward small talk as the daughter continued to gaze lovingly toward the head of the table. No one seemed to be paying any kind of attention to me or Brynn as she quietly told me, “Well, I always feel obligated to make sure all of our guests eat really well the first night, because after you saddle up, it’s only rations and whatever you catch on the trail for a week. I consider this your send-off feast, or your last meal, depending on how well you fare in the wilderness.”
I wasn’t sure if she was joking about the food for the rest of the trip or not because her dark eyes danced with merriment. I found myself studying her with open curiosity. Her long, red hair was the color of copper and fire, far richer and deeper than my own strawberry blonde locks. Her eyes were dark and mysterious, with a slight angle to them that hinted at a heritage that wasn’t run-of-the-mill. She was obviously at home around the big table, and when she took a seat next to Cy toward the head of the table, I almost choked on my chicken leg when she reached out, putting a hand on his thick forearm. She muttered something to him in a voice low enough so only he could hear. He leaned a little bit toward the stunning woman and replied to whatever she had asked him. I felt my breath whoosh out of my lungs in a gust loud enough that it had Em turning her head to look at me in question.
He was different with her.
There wasn’t a hint of the intimidation that he wielded so effortlessly when he faced off with me. There was no glowering and growling, no stalking and scowling. All he had for her was a half grin and gently gruff words that sounded like thunder rumbling over the hills. The twist of his lips made his hard face impossibly handsome, and had the besotted teenager at the table audibly sighing in appreciation while I stifled my own jolt of reaction.
Of course, a man like him wouldn’t be out here, miles and miles away from everything, without a woman who looked like she did at his side. That had a sharp pang shooting through me, even though it absolutely and completely made no sense. The two of them together made so much sense and it bugged me that the perfection of them together bothered me.
We were all happily awaiting the promised dessert after dinner when the overly amorous father of two switched his attention from texting his ‘customers’ and blatantly trying to impress Emrys, to the other two men, who had yet to join any kind of conversation. The way they watched us all without engaging was off putting, but since I typically had no patience for small talk and banal conversation, I decided I was in no place to question their odd behavior.
“Did you guys leave the wives at home for the weekend?” If they had been a couple, the way he asked the question would have been confrontational and insulting. The older of the two men narrowed his eyes and curled his hand around the water glass in front of him.
“We aren’t married.” His tone was brisk and clearly irritated. He didn’t want to have a conversation about himself and it was obvious, even if the clueless dad didn’t pick up on the mile-wide hint.
“Really? So, you two just took a week off of work to tromp around the woods together and play cowboy?” The implication that he found that disturbing and uncomfortable was clear. As if the guy, who I was positive had a side chick, had any room to pass judgment on anyone while his wife was worrying herself sick about his rudeness and the blatant break in her family unit.
The younger of the two men schooled his face into an impassive mask but there was a hard glin
t in his gaze when he replied, “We’re here on a training exercise for work. Grady here was working with a different partner for a long time and it’s been a rough adjustment since the restructure. Our boss thought this would be a good way for us to get on the same page. I would never say no to a week fishing on the boss’s dime but my partner isn’t big on the outdoors.” The older man grunted in apparent agreement.
“What kind of business are you gentlemen in?” It was supposed to be a friendly enough question, but I don’t think anyone seated at the table could miss that the dad was clearly looking for an in—or a new client—but neither of the men sounded like they came from the East Coast or particularly looked like they were interested in owning property in the Big Apple.
“We’re in sales.” The older gentleman muttered at the exact same time the other man stated, “Finance. We’re in finance.”
They exchanged a heated look and the older man cleared his throat. “We’re in sales and finance management, which is also pushing a lot of paper around just like Ms. Santos mentioned earlier. Nothing too exciting but it makes life easier when you’re working with someone you can trust and rely on.” He cut the younger man at his side a hard look and went all in to change the subject. “So, what kinds of things do we need to be on the lookout for while we’re on the trail for the next few days? Like Webb said, I’m not exactly a great outdoorsman and I Googled a wide range of things that could eat us or maim us throughout the excursion, so I do have my reservations.”
Lane chuckled and Cy lifted a quizzical eyebrow and stated, “It’s the wilderness so we will undoubtedly encounter local wildlife. There are elk and a variety of deer but they typically smell and hear the horses so they steer clear. There are bears and an occasional big cat but we ride out armed and take care to make sure all the campsites we set up are as safe for you and our animals as possible. There are birds, fish, plus more wild game than you can shake a stick at, but that’s why you’re here. To get close to it all, to be part of the wild in a way you won’t be back at home. People have existed with the wildlife in these parts since Wyoming was settled. It’s part of what makes this land so special.”
“What about other people?” That question came from the younger of the two men and seemed more pointed than it should. There was nothing and no one out here, even though the town of Sheridan was an adorable and touristy location. The commute back to ‘civilization’ was an hour away from the ranch and the likelihood of running into another person out of the blue seemed impossible. That had both the teenagers at the table scowling when they realized exactly how isolated they were going to be for the next few days. If I was saddled with the kind of parents they had, I would be longing for kids my own age and the Internet as a distraction, as well.
Lane was the one who fielded that particular question. He did it with a grin and a rueful shake of his head. “No one around for miles and miles. Most of the trail we follow is on our land with some of it crossing through the national forest. Occasionally, we’ll run across a rafting trip on the river or another guided trip at one of the two established campgrounds we use so you can catch a shower, but those times are few and far between. Occasionally, a lost hunter stumbles across our path. They generally hurry along because we make too much noise for them to shoot at anything. We always carry a satellite phone so if there’s an emergency, we can get in touch with Brynn back here at the ranch, but it’s just us and the horses once we ride out tomorrow.”
“So, if something goes wrong, if someone gets hurt, what’s your standard operating procedure in that scenario?” That question was posed from the younger man, and if I didn’t know any better I could have sworn there was a hint of confrontation in his tone.
Cy must have heard it too because his big body stiffened and he sat up straighter in his chair as he replied, “We’ve had a few minor injuries since we started doing the guided tours. We’re dealing with horses, unpredictable weather, and people from the city who aren’t always forthcoming about their actual skill level. We’ve had a few folks get too close to the campfire and one got a pretty nasty gash from a fish hook, but so far, the biggest injury we’ve encountered is a broken leg when one of the horses got spooked and threw a rider.”
Cy’s jaw went hard and his gray eyes turned flinty with his own kind of accusation. “It was the rider’s error and could have been prevented if he had been honest from the get-go about how inexperienced he was. He wasn’t on a gentle mount and he paid the price for it . . . which is why we make everyone sign liability waivers.”
The other two men exchanged a look and the younger one slumped back down in his seat, some of his bluster gone in the face of Cy’s unwavering confidence. “I’ve heard stories about people getting lost out here for days, just disappearing.”
Lane shook his head and that grin that never seemed to waver stayed firmly on his handsome face. “Not on our watch.”
There was an exchange of looks across the table like neither of the men really believed the reassurances given. However, the besotted teenager picked that lull in the conversation to change the subject, and when she did, it put me and Em on the hot seat so I couldn’t wonder what was really going on with the two men across the table anymore.
“So, what about you guys? Are you here because you love to fish, too?” There was sarcasm in her tone and a challenge in her gaze that must have come from the fact I couldn’t stop watching her crush or the way he was with the beautiful redhead at his side. She was a perceptive little thing, which meant there was no way she missed her mother’s anxiety or her father’s shady behavior.
Emrys tapped her fingers on the side of her glass and offered the young woman a friendly smile. “I actually really do love to fish and I’ve even been known to hunt a bird or two. My dad always wanted boys but was stuck with three girls. He took us out and did all the things he would have done if we had been sons instead of daughters. I begged Leo to come with me because I thought it would be fun to see if I still could hold my own with the boys. We both have pretty busy jobs back in the city so this seemed like the perfect girl’s trip, even if it is as un-girly as you can get.”
The teen lifted her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side. “You don’t really look like you know how to fish and hunt.”
Emrys wiggled her own eyebrows up and down. “Looks can be deceiving,”
“I think it’s awesome.” Her brother chimed in with a voice full of admiration and prepubescent approval. Their dad wasn’t the only one who had succumbed to my friend’s effortless charm and affability.
“What about you? Do you fish and hunt?” The question was lobbed at me with more than friendly curiosity, and despite myself, I found that I liked the girl’s grit and moxie. I wasn’t sure why she viewed me and not the other redhead at the table as a threat to her budding crush on the big, menacing man who seemed oblivious, but I admired her fight. It reminded me that I needed to find where mine had been buried under my own doubt and uncertainty.
“Nope. I used to love to ride horses when I was younger but I haven’t done that or been camping and fishing since I was a little girl. I like my memory foam mattress and I’m in a happily committed relationship with the Chinese restaurant at the end of the block down from my apartment. I’ll be clueless and helpless all week long but I’m excited to see the mountains and to spend some quality time with my bestie.” I offered the girl a lopsided grin that she didn’t return but my assurance that I was no Pioneer Woman, about to wow the men in charge of our well-being with my skills, seemed to put her at ease and some of the tension around her mouth loosened.
“You sure you aren’t running away from anything in the city, using all the fresh air and nature to escape something that went sour?” That rumbling question came from Cy and it was so unexpected it made me jump a little bit in my seat. He seemed so focused on the woman at his side, I sort of thought he forgot the rest of us were at the table still.
I tilted my chin in a defiant manner. “What would I be running fr
om?” He couldn’t know about the lies and the self-doubt or the tight wire I was walking at work. There was no way he could read me so well after such a short amount of time. At least I hoped he couldn’t. I didn’t like the idea of being that transparent to anyone. There was nowhere to hide if he was able to see right through me.
“I don’t know what you left behind but I do know this is a long way to come when you don’t really want to be here.” He had a point.
But as I opened my mouth to argue that he didn’t know me well enough to know if I wanted to be here or not I suddenly realized I really did want to be here. The more minutes that passed, the more I did want to see how this crazy vacation that hadn’t even really started yet was going to play out. Nothing had caught my attention or held my curiosity like this man had. The distraction from everything that had been pulling me down lately was a nice reprieve. Butting heads with Cy made me feel like my old self, and I missed her.
I slid a look to Emrys and then back to him. The other redhead at his side was switching her dark gaze between the two of us, like we were opponents in a tennis match. She seemed fascinated by our banter and it made me cringe because I shouldn’t like the zing of life that verbally sparring with the darkly complicated man gave me. I was supposed to be smart enough to run from that zing.
Retreat (The Getaway Series Book 1) Page 5
