Unlucky in Love

by Maggie McGinnis

  “Exactly. So it wasn’t much of a toss-up. And then I checked out your website, and…well, have you seen your website?”

  “No, but I’ve heard about it.”

  “Has anyone mentioned that you’re kind of front-and-center on it?”

  “Only the guys, when they want to be asses.” He raised his eyebrows. “And you, when you got off the plane.”

  She picked up her mug again, looking like she wished it was just big enough that she could hide behind it. “We were supposed to forget about that.”

  “So what made you up and leave Maine?”

  “The tourists.” She nodded decidedly. “You can barely navigate my town in the summertime. Nine months a year, it’s a sleepy little paradise. But once school lets out, get off the roads. It’s bumper-to-bumper insanity.”

  “That’s it? The tourists?”

  He had no idea why he was pushing for a different answer, like he didn’t believe the first one. Except that he didn’t. He didn’t even know why.

  She sighed, looking over his shoulder at what he assumed must be a gaggle of toddlers in the park across the street, given the noise. He watched emotions fly across her face, like she was trying to decide whether to say anything more.

  “I’m not…not just running from the tourists.”

  “Figured.” He sat back, sipping his coffee like he could care less who she was running from. “You on the lam? Witness protection? Ex-boyfriend with a grudge?”

  She laughed shortly. “Ex-fiancé, actually. With a sudden desire not to be married.”

  “Oh.” He sat forward. “Well, that sucks.”

  Jesus. She’d been engaged?

  “Yeah.” She forced a smile. “It definitely does.”

  “Is he back in Maine?”

  She shrugged. “I’m really not sure. He didn’t think—I guess he decided it wasn’t important for me to know.”

  “Wow.” Gunnar shook his head. “I’m sorry…which seems like a really lame thing to say, considering the circumstances.”

  Lexi took a deep breath, and he could practically feel the pain vibrating from her body as she let it out slowly.

  “Thank you.”

  “What happened, if it’s not too personal a question?”

  He shook his head. Shut the hell up, Gunnar. Of course it’s too personal a question.

  “I think…I don’t know. He wants a bigger life, I guess maybe you could call it. He wants someone who’ll sparkle at his fundraisers, someone who’s always wanted to hike into the rainforest in Belize, someone who thinks it’d be fun to skydive.”

  “And that’s not you?”

  She shook her head firmly, then seemed to be trying to stop herself from doing so. “It’s not me…yet.”

  Gunnar tipped his head, strange alarms pinging in his gut. “What do you mean, yet?”

  She sipped her coffee, looking like she was a million miles away. Finally, she put down her mug, like she’d made a decision. “Okay, I’m only telling you this because it already seems clear I might need some help, but…I’m actually out here on a mission.”

  “A mission.” He nodded, but the alarms just increased in volume. “What kind of mission?”

  “One that helps me get Tristan back.” She let the words drop like she wasn’t really sure she’d meant to say them, but he felt like they weighed an absolute ton, anyway.

  “Tristan, the fleeing fiancé?”

  “He didn’t really…flee. He just wasn’t ready.”

  Gunnar felt his eyes narrow. “But you don’t even know where he is.”

  “Well, no, but—” She broke off. “I know how it sounds.”

  He took a long breath. No, she didn’t know how it sounded. At all. “So what’s your plan? How are you aiming to have Tristan begging at your feet?”

  “That’s the part I need help with.”

  Oh. Great.

  Gunnar put up one finger. “Question. Why would you want him back?”

  “Because it’s my fault he left. He wants bold, courageous, adventurous, you know? The kind of woman who can just embrace new things, go with the flow, live in the present, find the bliss. You know.”

  “And you’re thinking you can just…become that?”

  “I know it sounds a little ridiculous, maybe. But yes. I mean, why not? People change. I’m determined to figure out how to be—you know—all of those things.”

  “So you can get Tristan back.”

  “Bingo.” She smiled. “I want to be…different.”

  He swallowed. He’d only known Lexi for twenty-four hours, and even he could tell that Tristan-the-Idiot didn’t deserve her, if he’d ever given her up in the first place.

  “So…your plan to be different is what?”

  “I haven’t quite worked that part out yet. I was kind of hoping the horse thing might have gone better this morning, for a start.”

  “Because that would have proven what, exactly?”

  Lexi shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. This is a new plan. I’m still working out the details. Maybe I send him a selfie of me on Goldie, y’know? Big smile, blue skies behind me, a little Having a great time in Montana message?”

  “And he’d come crawling back because you learned to ride a horse?” Gunnar couldn’t keep the skepticism out of his voice.

  “Of course not. It’s just my first volley. I figure if I spend the summer having a bunch of epic adventures, he’ll have to see me differently—see me as somebody he could spend a life with.”

  Gunnar nodded slowly. “And none of this sounds remotely insane to you? Molding yourself into someone you’re not, in hopes of getting back a guy who I’m dead sure never deserved you in the first place?”

  “Not really, no. And believe me, I know how pathetic this sounds. It’s not just about Tristan, okay? I’m just—just sick of being the safety-school girl, the one you keep around till something sparklier comes along. I want to be the sparkly one, for once.”

  He studied her as she sipped her coffee, shaking his head slowly as he inwardly cursed this Tristan character who’d obviously done such a number on her self-confidence.

  “So”—Lexi put down her mug, clasping her hands together—“would you be willing to help me?”

  He sighed.

  No.

  “Help you how?”

  “You know, with riding, and rock climbing, maybe whitewater rafting? Stuff like that?”

  “So you can take selfies and send them to your ex? Prove you’re a new woman and all that?”

  She nodded. “Exactly.”

  “No.”

  “No?” She pulled back, looking surprised at his firm tone. “Why not?”

  “If you want to learn to ride, or climb, or raft—or whatever else, then yeah. I’m happy to help you. But only if it’s something you really want to do for yourself. It won’t work if you’re doing it to impress somebody else.”

  “I’m not quite that pathetic, Gunnar. I really do want to learn this stuff.”

  “But this Tristan is still in the equation, right?”

  She sighed. “I can’t help it. I really thought we were going to have a future. And I want a future with him. So I have to do this. Maybe I’ll fail spectacularly—who knows? But I have to at least try, or I’ll spend my life regretting that I didn’t at least give it a shot.”

  Gunnar shook his head, closing his eyes. He’d done a lot of shit over the years, but he couldn’t remember ever being asked to groom a woman to be a better match for a fiancé who’d already dumped her.

  This was destined to end badly. He definitely shouldn’t get involved. No way, no how.

  No.

  “Okay.” The word came out of his mouth without warning, and he swore he tried to reach out and pull it back in before she heard it.

  “Really?” She took his hand. “You’ll help me?”

  He sighed. “Only so you don’t kill yourself trying. I don’t need you on my conscience.”

  She jumped out of her chair and threw her
arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thanks, Gunnar. You won’t regret it.”

  Before he had a chance to return the hug, she’d stood back up, closing the bakery box and tossing her empty coffee cup in the trash bin.

  “Should we head back to Whisper Creek?” She smiled like a kid with a secret plan. “Maybe we could try a riding lesson? I mean, if you’re not busy this afternoon?”

  He blew out a breath as he stood up and followed her to his truck, trying—but not at all succeeding—to keep his eyes focused north of her pert little ass.

  Damn. He should definitely make sure he was busy.

  Chapter 7

  “Well, looks like we’ve got cougars and jaguars this week.” Hayley sipped from a glass of chardonnay as she scanned the great room in the ranch’s main house on Sunday evening. She leaned toward Lexi. “Can you tell which is which?”

  Lexi smiled carefully, not sure what she should say. She’d only met Hayley an hour ago at Ma’s official kick-off meet-and-greet, and she was torn between admiring her tenacity, and fearing it. She was tall and gorgeous, embracing the redhead stereotype like she’d invented it, and she was one of those women who dared to say what everyone else was thinking, but she did it in a way that didn’t offend. It had to be a gift.

  Jess, her polar opposite, smiled serenely from Lexi’s right. She’d spent the afternoon helping Lexi set up the little clinic adjoining her spa, and had then convinced Lexi to guinea pig the new yoga routine she was planning to roll out to guests tomorrow. Lexi had loved the stretches and soft music and balsam-scented candles Jess used, and—wowza—she was definitely going to feel the workout in the morning.

  Jess sipped her wine. “Blonde at two o’clock is our resident cougar. Malibu Barbie over there by Gunnar is our jaguar.”

  Lexi’s eyes swept the room like she didn’t already know exactly where Gunnar was standing, or who he was standing with. The woman with her hand on his arm had homed in on him within five seconds of walking into the main lodge a half-hour ago, and she’d made tracks for him as soon as Ma had finished giving the weekly introductions.

  Lexi tried to be surreptitious as she watched him smile down at the blonde. Was that the same smile he’d given her yesterday? If they turned and walked to the bar for a refill, would he put his hand on Blondie’s back like he’d done with Lexi?

  And omigod. Why did she care?

  “Not so hard on the eyes, is he?” Hayley elbowed her, and she broke her gaze away from Gunnar.

  “Who?” Yes, better to sound like she had no idea who Hayley was talking about.

  Hayley laughed as she turned to Lexi. “Seriously?” She leaned forward so she could see Jess. “Jess? Have we noticed the new camp nurse noticing anyone besides Gunnar since she got here Friday?”

  Jess gave that serene smile Lexi already knew was her trademark. “I haven’t noticed.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No swearing in the lodge, Hayls. Ma will have your head.” Jess raised her eyebrows playfully. “And who could possibly be blamed for noticing Gunnar? He’s beautiful.”

  Lexi felt her eyes move back to Gunnar, just to—you know—see if the blonde had moved on, and this time, he was looking over the woman’s head and directly at her. Even across the room, she swore she could see the deep blue of his eyes, set off by long lashes she’d looked at in profile far too many times on the way to Whisper Creek on Friday.

  She swallowed a little hiccup of air, feeling her cheeks grow warm under his gaze. But it was because she’d had eight thousand second thoughts about opening up to him yesterday, not because there was some sort of unwanted, simmering attraction there.

  Yes, that’s what it was.

  Hayley leaned to her left and grabbed a cold beer from the bar. “Here.” She handed it to Lexi, motioning toward Gunnar. “Your man looks like he could use a rescue.”

  “My—”

  Hayley rolled her eyes. “Fine. Not your man. Just a man. One who looks like he could use a rescue from a friendly face who has absolutely no romantic or sexual interest in him, despite the fact that he is sex on a frigging stick, for God’s sake.”

  Lexi almost choked. “But—”

  “Seriously. If you don’t, somebody else will.” Hayley indicated the room full of women with her hands, and Lexi swallowed hard. She was right. There were probably ten women here who’d gladly follow Gunnar to his cabin right now, without knowing anything more about the man than his measurements.

  And she hated that she actually would hate to watch that happen. Damn. What was happening here?

  “Go.” Hayley gave her a nudge. “Stake your claim now, or you’ll spend the summer wishing you’d been braver tonight and taken the wise advice of Hayley Scampini.”

  Jess laughed. “You are never going to get used to saying your married name, are you, Hayls?”

  “Wait. This is a very good point.” She put out a hand to stop Lexi from leaving their little circle. “What’s your last name again?”

  “Maguire.”

  “Lexi Maguire Steele. Lexi Steele. Alexis Steele.” Hayley nodded thoughtfully. “I think it’ll work. Okay, you may proceed. Go get the guy, Lexi.”

  Lexi felt her mouth fall open. “I’m not getting any—”

  “Younger?” Hayley nodded, motioning her toward Gunnar. “We know. Go.”

  Lexi turned away from Hayley, feeling her jaw tense as she did so. Good God, the woman was something else. Lexi had no intentions of going after Gunnar—or anyone else at Whisper Creek, given her real goals here—but apparently you didn’t argue with Hayley.

  Of course, it wasn’t like Hayley knew anything about her, or her history, so in reality, Lexi guessed she couldn’t really blame her for trying to forge a connection between Gunnar and Lexi.

  And he totally was sex on a stick, though those words would never come out of her mouth. She could think them, though, especially if she had no intention of ever acting on them.

  Which she didn’t.

  So it’d be okay to bring him a cold beer, even though she’d be interrupting a guest making moves. It wasn’t like she’d be giving a silent “bugger off!” message to the blonde. Or not an intentional one, anyway.

  Right?

  She closed her eyes, trying to stop the faucet of arguments in her head, then took a deep breath, heading across the room toward Gunnar. She saw his eyebrows rise as she started his way, but couldn’t tell if he was happy she was coming…or fearful she was about to interrupt a good thing he had going with the blond bimbo.

  She rolled her eyes internally. For all she knew, the blonde was a Princeton-educated attorney. Or a surgeon. Or some sort of selfless, wonderful person who spent half her life traveling to underdeveloped nations to help with hurricane and earthquake and typhoid relief efforts.

  Lexi chickened out and started to alter her course, heading instead for the open deck outside the French doors. Maybe she’d drink the damn beer herself. Before she got to the doors, though, she felt a strong hand on her arm.

  “Escaping so soon?”

  The voice was deep, and when she looked up, Mister September looked back down at her, amusement in his brown eyes. Yeah, she’d bought the calendar already. Sue her.

  “Um. I—no.”

  “Party’s just getting started, honey. Where are you from?”

  “I’m—not a guest.” Words finally stumbled their way out. “I mean, you don’t have to—you know—talk me up or whatever. I work here, too.”

  Lexi wished a magic portal would open directly under her feet and just suck her down through it. Why could she talk to kids so easily, but not even manage a simple sentence with a good-looking man?

  “I know.” He smiled, obviously even more amused now. “But I imagine you’re still from somewhere, right?”

  “Right. Yes. Maine.” If she wasn’t carrying two drinks right now, she’d want to slap her own forehead.

  “Here just for the summer?”

  “Yes.”

  She searched for so
mething else to say—something that wouldn’t be inane or completely boring. Then she remembered a trick from the Small Talk for Morons book that currently sat in her cabin. Echo his question back. Yes, that’s what she could do.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Right here. I’m Stefan. I’d shake your hand, but—” he tipped his chin toward her two drinks. “Looks like yours are both busy.”

  Lexi looked at her hands, realizing for the first time how it might look to the guests to see their ranch nurse double-fisting at the first event of the session.

  “I was—bringing this to someone. But he’s busy.”

  “Gunnar?”

  She narrowed her eyes. How had he known? “Um, yes, actually.”

  “Figured.” Stefan shrugged. “Have you met him yet? Or would you like an introduction?”

  “We’ve met.” Gunnar’s voice came from behind Lexi, making her whip around in surprise as Stefan gave a defeated wave and headed toward another group of guests. Gunnar smiled down at her, lifting his chin toward her hands. “Getting ready for your party-selfie?”

  She widened her eyes in a shut up motion, then handed him the beer. “Actually, you looked like you could use a breather. I was bringing you a beer.”

  “You’re right, and thank you.” He took the beer and tipped it to clink with her wine glass. “How do you drink that stuff?”

  She wrinkled her nose. She’d actually much prefer the beer he was drinking to the wine she had, but when Hayley and Jess had both poured glasses of chardonnay, she’d gone with the when in Rome approach and filled her own glass.

  “I’m actually not much of a wine drinker.”

  “So…why are you drinking wine?”

  “Because it seemed a little uncouth to crack open a beer, I guess. Plus, I’m the nurse. I’m supposed to be, like, a pinnacle of good health or whatever. I should be drinking water, really.”

  “But you’re eyeing my beer.” He shook his head, taking her wineglass and dumping the wine in the nearest plant. “Come on. Let’s get you your own.”

  “Gunnar!” She looked behind her at the plant, which was probably going to shrivel up and die now, and it’d be on her conscience.

  “Relax. Didn’t you ever go to a party in college? Those plants can survive anything.” He reached into a cooler she hadn’t even seen under a nearby table, and pulled out a frosty beer that made her mouth water. “Here you go.” He cracked it open and handed it to her. “Got your phone? Want me to take a pic for you to send?”