“Whoa! She’s small but mighty!”
“Careful counselor!”
“I’d object to that if I were you!”
“Why aren’t you playing, Mighty Mouse?”
“You couldn’t handle it,” Annie said with a haughty sniff and sank back into the bubbling water.
“High School volleyball star?”
Annie shook her head, holding her breath as CJ stripped off his t-shirt and stepped carefully down into the tub. Board shorts that graduated from shades of blue to black were flattering and looked comfortable. Dark whorls of hair covered his chest and trailed down to circle his navel. It made him look all the more like a teddy bear. Cuddling up with that in front of the fire might make Wyoming winters bearable.
“Don’t let them get to you.”
“What?” she asked, eyes snapping up to meet his.
“I said don’t let them get to you.”
“Oh! Oh, I’m not. Sorry. I uh…I didn’t play volleyball in high school. I was in gymnastics,” she said, trying to change the topic.
“Which…uh…which—”
“Events,” she supplied. “I competed in vault and floor. My thing was power. I was never one of those tiny waifs.”
“Thank you,” he said with a shy smile. “I wasn’t sure what they called them. Sorry. Watching a little late night Olympics is about the extent of my exposure to gymnastics.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re in the majority. That’s most people’s experience.”
“Did you like it?”
Her head tilted to the side in surprise. “Most people ask if I was good at it.”
“That’s a different question. I enjoyed playing football, but I wouldn’t say I was all that great at it.”
“I loved competing but hated the politics and backbiting,” Annie admitted. “The coaches encouraged it. They called it healthy peer pressure. In teenage girls with image problems, it’s not always so healthy. One of my teammates committed suicide my senior year. Another tried and failed. Thank God.”
“I’m sorry about your friend.”
“The sad thing is we weren’t friends, but me too. Maybe if she’d had someone she could talk to it would’ve been different.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that is not what you were looking for when you asked if I played volleyball. I didn’t mean to be a downer.”
“Actually, I want to know everything about you, not just the good stuff,” he said, reaching out to capture her hand in a squeeze. “Sometimes it’s the tough times that shape us.”
“You have an uncanny knack of saying just the right thing.”
“You’re going to have to take credit for that. Normally, I don’t have a lot to say. You must inspire me.”
“You don’t need to say a lot when you nail it on the first try.” She lifted her hand so their outstretched arms were resting on the edge, fingers still entwined. “So what about you? Was football your passion?”
“Nope. Hunting and fishing were my passion. They still are. Football was more about school pride and camaraderie. We were a small school. We didn’t get a lot of attention from scouts or press which took a lot of the pressure off. Our coach was all about football being a game, encouraging us to have fun and look out for one another. We did a lot as a team off the field. Camping, paintball, bonfires.”
“That sounds fun.” She hesitated a minute, memories tugging at her thoughts. “I miss bonfires. Growing up, my dad never needed an excuse to light a fire and break out the cooler, even if it was just for an evening in the backyard.”
“What was your favorite part?”
“The stories. Some of them I heard a hundred times and they never got old,” she said. “S’mores would be my second favorite part.”
“Do you know that you get the same look on your face when you talk about writing, storytelling, or chocolate?” CJ asked.
She grinned and splashed him lightly. “Obviously, I save that look for the really important things in life.”
“It’ll be a lucky man that can put that same sparkle in your eyes.”
The intensity in his pale gaze made her heart skip. She felt like he could see right through her. Afraid to give away too much, she dropped her eyes to the churning water and tried to shrug playfully.
“Sounds like all he needs to do is tell good stories and keep me supplied with the bean.”
“It’s not a bonfire, but that fireplace you love in the main hall has been known to make a mean s’more. How about we break out the fixings after dinner tonight?”
“Throw in a few hunting and fishing tall tales and you have yourself a deal.”
Zipping up the camouflage onesie, Annie looked in the mirror. Really looked. Brown hair, hazel eyes, a few freckles on the nose—she saw an okay face but nothing special. Average Annie. She wished she could see through someone else’s eyes, preferably CJ’s. What did he see when he looked at her? She wrinkled her nose at her reflection. Right now she just looked like a little kid or a well-dressed oompa loompa. Someone knocked.
On the other side of the door Miss Georgia chewed on her thumbnail, beautiful face twisted in worry. Nikki, Annie reminded herself as she gently pulled the blonde’s hand away from her mouth. How many times had she done that for Crystal?
“What’s wrong, Nikki?”
“Crystal locked herself in the bathroom in her suite and won’t come out. Some of us are worried she might hurt herself.”
Annie shook her head. “It’ll be okay. Crys wouldn’t do that. She has kept it together since breakfast and it’s probably just hitting her that she should be Mrs. Barrett by now. I’ll talk to her.”
The others looked relieved when she arrived. Slipping through the handwringing mob, she knocked.
“It’s me, Crys. Open up.”
Silence.
“We’ve tried everything. She won’t even talk to us. I’m worried.”
Annie held up a hand.
“Crys, open this door or I’m going to show all your pretty friends that picture of you from summer camp.”
“You didn’t bring that.”
Annie smiled and tapped the door with her phone. “Ah, foolish mortal, I can access my whole life from here with a few strokes of my virtual keyboard,” she teased.
More silence. Annie turned the volume up and started to type.
“That’s blackmail!” the whiny voice on the other side of the door protested.
“Now you’re catching on, buttercup!” Annie grinned at a thumping sound. “You’re going to bruise your gourd.”
“Fine. Only you.”
The words were petulant, but the lock clicked. Annie put a hand on the door and turned to the others.
“Why don’t you all go ahead? We’ll be down in a little while.”
A couple of them looked uncertain.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this. Tell Tyler to save her a spot. She will be down soon.”
Watching them shuffle off, she slipped into the bathroom and relocked the door.
“I hate you.”
“I know,” Annie said, sliding down the front of the vanity to sit on the floor across from her cousin.
Crystal yanked out another tissue and blew her nose. “Why can’t anyone just let me sulk?”
“I would if it wasn’t affecting other people. They were worried.”
“No you wouldn’t,” Crys muttered with a fresh sob.
She thought about that for a minute or two. “You’re probably right. I don’t like to see you hurting. Sue me.”
“I should’ve known everything was going too smoothly.”
“I’m going to share with you some words of wisdom that my dad said often. Shit happens.”
Crystal snorted. “I remember him saying that.”
“Not the most eloquent quote, but it’s a fact. Things happen that we have no control over, Crys. This isn’t the end of the world. Tyler still loves you and there will be a wedding. Think of the story this makes. It will be perfect to tell at dinner
parties while you’re entertaining your husband’s fancy partners or rich clients.”
“Leave it to you to think of the story.”
Annie held up her phone and wiggled it back and forth. “I’ve been keeping notes. You better hope none of those uptown girls read my books. They will think you plagiarized me.”
“I’ll have to brag that the famous author is my pain in the ass cousin and she ripped me off.”
“No one will believe that,” Annie scoffed.
“I have the autographed books to prove it,” Crys said with a haughty sniff and then started to giggle.
The laughter led to a coughing fit that left her breathless and teary-eyed, but at least smiling. “I always wanted you to write about me.”
“I know.” Annie played with the ribbon on her zipper. “I tried a few times, but I could never capture you the way I see you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your mask is too good or I’m not a good enough writer yet. I can’t capture your heart on paper. Until I can, all the reader will see is a pretty picture with no depth.”
Fresh tears trickled down Crystal’s cheeks. “You think I have depth?”
“Do you think I’d hang around just another cookie cutter?”
“We’re cousins.”
“Do I put up with Angie?”
Crystal snorted and lunged for another tissue at the mention of their absent snooty cousin. Annie laughed and held up her phone, threatening to take an embarrassing picture.
“Good point. But you realize with me fifteen hundred miles away, she’s all yours now,” Crys teased when she had blown her nose again.
“She can’t get past the lobby and if she wants to stalk me there, she might have a long wait.”
“You’re such a hermit.”
“I didn’t pay for that river view not to stare at it.”
Tidying up her mess, Crys sucked her bottom lip in. She blinked watery eyes, trying to keep the flood at bay.
“What else is bothering you?”
“I don’t know anyone here. I’m not a cowgirl. What if I don’t fit in or I embarrass Tyler?”
“First off, you’ll be in Billings which is about the same size as Grand Rapids. You’re not moving to some one stoplight town with tumbleweeds.”
Crys gave a choking laugh.
“Secondly, if Tyler wanted a cowgirl he’d have one. In case you’ve forgotten, your fiancé is a classically handsome man and a successful lawyer. Guys like him don’t have trouble getting dates. You’re the one he chose. He wants the former Miss Michigan and Miss USA to be Mrs. Barrett. More importantly, he wants you—the girl that loves horses, hockey and for some odd ass reason, pistachios.”
“He does too,” she whispered.
“See! You’re a match made in heaven.”
“Do you remember The Next Best Thing to Robert Redford dessert that Grandma made with the pistachio pudding?”
“Who could forget?” Annie asked with a small smile. “She made it for every family get-together.”
“I looked it up online to make it for Ty’s birthday. It called for chocolate pudding on most of the recipes I found, but I made it like Grandma’s. He loved it.”
“What did I tell you? You’re two weird peas in a pod. I predict that you’re going to be the it couple of the Billings scene in no time. Everyone is going to be jockeying to be on your guest list, or get you on theirs.”
“I’m going to miss you, this. God. Think I could convince you to visit lovely Billings, Montana? We have a guest room with a private bath so you’d have your own space.”
“I already checked. It might take a couple of connections, but I can get there,” Annie said with a wink.
Crystal pushed off the wall and into her arms. Closing her eyes, Annie held her tight. She had a feeling she was going to be the lonely one.
A cheer went up, interrupting CJ’s brooding inspection of the flames. His heart jumped when he saw Annie. The women raced to gather around Crystal, not even allowing the poor girl to clear the bottom step. Annie disappeared in the pack. Turning his attention back to the fireplace, he picked up a camp fork and speared a couple of marshmallows. He hesitated, the white puffs of sugar hovering over the flames. Burnt and gooey, or lightly browned? People generally liked them one way or the other. Setting up the graham cracker and chocolate with the other hand, he waited.
Light hands landed on his shoulders. “Burn it,” she whispered in his ear.
He grinned and dipped the fork prongs into the fire. Annie slid around his side and settled on a plump pillow in front of the hearth. Blowing out the sizzling treat, he deftly squeezed the blackened mass between two graham crackers and handed the first s’more to her. Melted chocolate and marshmallow covered her teeth as she smiled around the first bite and hummed in pleasure.
“Heaven,” she murmured.
Sinking down beside her and taking a bite of his, he had to agree it was pretty close. It was a little crowded for his taste, but he’d take what he could get with her.
“Is she okay?” he asked watching Crystal finally break free and sink into Tyler’s lap. “It took some talking to convince Ty to give you a shot before he charged up there on his white horse.”
“She’s fine. It’s just jitters. She was supposed to be Mrs. Barrett by now and the delay is giving her more time to worry.”
“She’s not getting cold feet?”
“God, no,” she said then turned toward him, lowering her voice. “It’s what ifs. What if I don’t fit in in Billings? What if I embarrass Tyler? What if I’m not perfect? She’s moving fifteen hundred miles away from home to a city where he is the only one she knows. It’s a big stage and she won’t have her mom or her companion pony for comfort. She’s scared.”
CJ blinked when she pulled back. He immediately missed the heat of her body and the whisper of her breath against his ear. Starting another s’more, he forced his brain to concentrate on her words, not her.
“I’m sure there will be some adjustment like any other couple, but she’s already perfect in his eyes. My cousin is crazy for yours. Is Billings that much bigger than where you are from? I thought Crystal said she was a city girl?”
“Actually, I Googled the populations for her and Grand Rapids is larger by seventy or eighty thousand. So it’s not that.”
CJ snorted. “Wyoming doesn’t even have a city of seventy thousand.”
That drew her attention away from the bride. A furrow formed between her brows.
“Cheyenne!” she said suddenly, looking a little proud of herself. “What about Cheyenne?”
“Nope. Last I saw our capital’s population was in the low sixties, having overtaken Casper which is just under.”
Her fingers flew over her phone. “That’s smaller than Kalamazoo,” she protested.
“It drops into the thirties after those two,” he said amused at her surprise. “Two of those then one or two in the twenties. Then closest to us, we have Sheridan at just under eighteen.”
“Wow.”
He handed her another s’more.
“Wyoming is the tenth largest state but the least populated.”
“How do you know all of that off the top of your head?” she asked, nibbling the graham cracker corners.
“I read a lot. I enjoyed US history and geography in school. Growing up here, I have a particular fondness for Wyoming and the West.” He shrugged. “It gives me something to talk about with the clients I take out hunting or fishing. I tell them about my state and ask questions about theirs. Exploring the differences opens up conversation.”
“You’re amazing.”
The words alone left him speechless, but the light kiss she pressed on his lips blew his mind. When she pulled back, she ran her tongue over her lips like she was tasting him. He wet his own, stalling to give his brain time to reboot.
“Tell me what I did and I’ll do it again. I’m a quick learner.”
Annie laughed. He loved the way her eyes sparkled.
“So you do guide work as well as make furniture?”
“The woodworking is just a hobby. I make pieces for myself, family, friends and sometimes people will commission something if I have the time. I’m still building the guide business but it pays the bills. I could get my old job back in the oil fields and make more. A lot more, but I help Mom and Dad out around here when they need it and I am part of the Search and Rescue team,” he explained, the flood of words slowly tailing off. Why did he suddenly feel like this was an interview and he needed to sell himself?
“You said hunting and fishing were your passion. If you can make a living at it, what could be better?”
The fear fell away. She got it. He wanted to kiss her.
“I think your mom is trying to get your attention.”
He tore his focus away from her to search out his mom near the big screen. She gestured to him.
“Excuse me for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
“Sorry to interrupt, sweetheart, but I need your knife.”
CJ looked down pointedly at his flannel pajama bottoms. “What makes you think I’m carrying a knife?”
“I know you,” she said, wiggling her fingers in the give-me sign.
Grinning at his mom, he relented and fished a knife out of his pocket. She knew him too well. You never knew when you were going to need a knife. Flipping open the short blade, he sliced through the plastic clamshell holding new game controllers.
“You and Annie seem to be spending a lot of time together.”
Prying open the formed plastic, he raised an eyebrow at his mother. She smiled innocently. When she didn’t say anything else, he sighed. No one played the silent game like Mom.
“Annie’s really easy to talk to. I like her a lot. I’m not sure what this storm will do to the plans, but we were talking about her hanging around for a bit after the wedding so we can get a chance to know one another better.”
“That would be wonderful. You know, if she would be more comfortable we’ll have rooms here.”
“I told her that,” he said, giving her a side glance. “She was waxing poetic about your fieldstone fireplace and the awe-inspiring view. I offered to show her a little more of our scenery if she stays.”
Why not Wyoming? (Wyoming Wilds Series Book 1) Page 3
