Enjoy the View

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  “The allure was too great.” Her sigh was one of deep contentment, even as he kicked the chain aside and started herding her back toward the door.

  “But…”

  “Nope.”

  River walked backward on her toes, still trying to peer over his shoulder. “The jars. I didn’t even see what’s in all the glass jars.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Easton and Graham had learned that particular lesson a long time ago. When the door was safely shut behind them, River fell back against the wood siding of the barn, dissolving into giggles.

  “I ate person dust.”

  “It really is rust.” Probably. He hoped.

  Clearly, she wasn’t buying into his far less interesting narrative. “I’ll get a DNA test when we come back. Easton, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen. You’re cruel for not letting me film it, but it was awesome.”

  Bracing a hand against the barn siding above her head, Easton smiled down at her. “Nothing scares you, does it?”

  “Lots of things scare me.” Inhaling a deep breath, she reached above her head, looping her slender fingers around his wrist. “Going somewhere with you isn’t one of them.”

  It had been a long time since he had wanted to kiss a woman this badly. Eyes flickering down to her mouth, he tried to tell himself this was a bad idea. Maybe it hadn’t been rust…

  “You’re going up a mountain with me,” he reminded her, hating his own words. “We should probably keep this professional.”

  “Agreed. You’re filming a movie with me.”

  “I’m not—” he started to protest, but River’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Technically, you’re the male lead.”

  Easton grimaced. “You promised it would only be my feet.”

  “We’ll start with the feet and move up.”

  Easton shifted closer, not because he wanted to but because he had to. Resisting her arm slipping around his waist wasn’t in the realm of possibilities.

  “Thank you for showing me your torture barn,” she whispered.

  “Thanks for not running screaming.”

  When her fingers hooked into his, still above her head, and her other arm tightened around his waist, Easton took that as permission. The curve of her hip felt good beneath his palm, and when he tugged her closer, she came willingly. When she licked her lower lip, he started to dip his head down.

  “River? Are you okay?” Bree’s voice calling from the house couldn’t have come at a worse time. “Easton, I know Krav Maga.”

  Easton dropped his forehead to the barn wood above her head. “Everyone knows Krav Maga.”

  “Bree’s actually good at it,” River said into his chest. When he pulled back, her hair gleamed like burning embers in the low light from the house windows. Never had Easton wanted to thread his fingers through something more.

  “River?” Bree called again.

  Stepping back to give her space, Easton sighed when River yelled back. “Bree, you have to see this.”

  Abandoning him for Bree, River dragged her over to the barn. A couple of startled curses later, Bree let out an ooh of sheer pleasure. She stuck her head out the door, mirroring the mischief on River’s face.

  “Easton,” Bree breathed. “You have to let us film this.”

  • • •

  In the end, the answer stayed a no, and Easton’s hands stayed to himself. It was probably better that way, especially considering how important it was they would be able to work with each other on the climb.

  Bree and River played rock, paper, scissors for the couch after it had been determined no one was killing anyone or filming anything in the barn. They were still rechallenging each other when he went to bed, feeling guilty that one of the two women was going to end up sleeping in a nonreclining chair, and both were subjected to Jessie’s crescendo of nasal noises.

  “Deviated septums don’t make friends, buddy,” Easton muttered to himself, listening to the other man’s snores.

  Sleep didn’t come easily. Knowing she was sleeping in his living room made it hard to rest, and Easton’s brain kept rolling over the plans he had made. The supply list, the weather reports, the best places to take them to film, and the planned ascent. Details that were always important loomed larger in his mind.

  Normally, Easton had a maximum of an afternoon of interaction with his clients before a climb. He’d never almost kissed one by his barn or had her crashed out on his couch.

  An early riser, Easton maybe got an hour or two at most of rest before his eyes opened of their own accord. His house guests were dead to the world, never stirring even when Easton ate his breakfast and made a couple of calls. And when Ash’s Jeep pulled into the drive, he met her on the porch.

  Sharper than the rest of them on her worst day, Ash immediately recognized the SUV in the drive.

  “You brought them here?” she asked, stepping through the front door.

  Following her inside, Easton shrugged. “I suffered a momentary lack of clarity.”

  “I’ll say.” Ash snorted. “What if they try to murder you in your sleep? I don’t trust the actress. She looks like she’s one good sneeze away from a mental break.”

  Opening one eye, the woman in question made a sleepy noise. “Hey. It’s at least two sneezes.” River yawned, pulled the blanket higher up her neck, then rolled over.

  “She was sleeping in her car, Ash.”

  “So? How is that your problem?”

  “It wasn’t my problem.” Easton’s eyes flickered over to the red hair on his couch pillow. “These are my clients. I might as well start things off with them right. Did you get ahold of Ruby?”

  “Yes, and I think you’re drinking the Kool-Aid. She’s willing to meet everyone. But seriously, don’t drag it out. Ruby Lou’s not as young as she used to be.”

  “None of us are,” Easton said. “Is everything ready for tomorrow?”

  “It will be.” Ash crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll fly up there and drop off the supplies, but don’t expect me to do anything but drop it.”

  He hadn’t expected her to. Wrapping his sister in a hug—and earning a gagging noise from her in response—Easton smirked as she fought her way free.

  “Gross. Take a shower.” As she left, Ash pointed a warning finger at him. “Stress out my grandma, and I’m kicking your ass.”

  “Yup.”

  On the off chance he actually smelled as bad as his sister inferred, Easton took his shower. Having so many people in his house wasn’t uncomfortable or abnormal; they’d been having parties here for a lot of years now. More than once, his friends or family had slept on his couch, floor, or even porch. What Easton wasn’t used to was having strangers in his home.

  He almost ran into River as he left the bathroom, still rubbing the towel over his hair to dry it.

  “Whoa.” River took a step back, eyes widening. Thinking he’d startled her off-balance, Easton reached for her arm to steady her.

  “Dude,” Jessie murmured to Bree at the end of the hall. “Did he move in slow motion for anyone else? Like, step, step, towel, wet hair flip, sexy naked rescue.”

  “He didn’t rescue me.” River’s eyes narrowed. “He grabbed on.”

  Well, that wasn’t fair.

  “River bobbled. And I didn’t flip my hair.”

  “You kind of flipped your hair,” River told him. “There was a motion.”

  Easton frowned. “There wasn’t.”

  “Nope,” she insisted, her hand flapping in his head’s direction. “There was definitely a motion.”

  Across the living room, Bree edged toward Jessie. “Where’s the handheld?”

  “Why are you whispering?” he asked her.

  Bree pointed a finger Easton’s way. “Because he might move if I speak too loud.”


  Maybe Easton should have dressed more, but they were lucky he’d remembered to bring pants along with him to the shower. He could have emerged in a pair of socks and a toothbrush. Wishing he could extract himself from the situation, Easton tried skirting River, only to find Bree standing there, handheld video camera at the ready.

  “Bree, you can’t film him coming out of the shower.” River went up on her tiptoes, shielding Easton’s chest from view of the lens.

  “But…”

  “No, Bree.” River exhaled a sigh. “Those white fluffy towels. It’s so wrong.”

  Glancing at the towel, then back at River, Easton couldn’t remember a point since they’d met where he wasn’t utterly confused. “I have no idea what that means,” he told her.

  “It’s probably for the best.” River patted his shoulder. “Hey, since you let us crash here, breakfast is on me. I don’t cook, but I’m happy to buy you breakfast in town.”

  “There’s cereal in the cupboard. Milk in the fridge.” Easton looked longingly at the bedroom door, wondering if he could get through the two women in the hall or if he should give up. “Use it up. It’ll go bad when we’re out there.”

  “Don’t shipping costs make this like liquid gold or something?” Jessie asked, already digging into the refrigerator. He jiggled the milk carton at them.

  Easton didn’t dignify that with an answer. Yes, it was more expensive to get certain things shipped to them from the lower forty-eight, but he’d had to listen to tourists poking and prodding at everyone for years now. The fascination over his milk costs to strangers never ceased to annoy him.

  Distracting them with free food seemed to be the trick, because Easton was able to finally escape the trio and get himself a shirt. He returned to find them making short work of a massive box of cereal. As he stuck with toast and coffee, Easton glanced at River. She was watching him out of the corner of her eye, and when they locked gazes, she managed to look guilty.

  Huh. That was new.

  Suspicious, Easton narrowed his eyes at River. “What did you do?”

  The woman was good. He almost believed her when she blinked innocently at him. “Nothing.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  River would make an excellent poker player, but Bree’s face split in a massive grin. She must have known they were outed, because River sighed. “Well…okay. You see, we kind of decided to add a bit more to the roll.”

  Easton rolled his eyes. “You didn’t.”

  “We had to.” River and Bree nodded in agreement. “The barn was too torture-y to resist.”

  “My property, ladies. That film belongs to me without my permission.”

  “Do you have any idea the kind of money we could get selling that footage for stock film?” Bree added. “We’ll cut you in, I promise.”

  Groaning in exasperation, Easton closed his eyes.

  “Are you counting to ten?” River sounded as suspicious as he had been. “You are not counting to ten, because I’m a grown-ass woman, dammit. You don’t get to count to ten when dealing with me.”

  Easton opened one eye, then smirked at the flush of heat on her cheeks. “You’re cute when you’re riled up,” he told her in front of them because he could.

  River’s jaw dropped open, then clamped shut.

  Before she could decide what to say, Easton continued, “I have someone you might want to talk to. For your documentary.” Maybe this wasn’t the right thing, but as the trio turned their heads his way, Easton pushed on. “My grandma Ruby always loved this town, and she’s been here her whole life. She agreed to tell you stories, the kind of stuff most people don’t even know about. Dad was bringing her by his house for a visit today anyway. She gets bored in the nursing home.”

  They all stared at him, silent.

  Easton cleared his throat. “Only if you want. She agreed to talk to you, but you’ll have to ask her if she’s willing to be filmed. She’ll be at my dad’s place later.”

  He’d thought maybe he’d offended them until he realized they were stunned into silence.

  River’s eyes had widened. “You’re kidding me. No one will talk to us. I called around for months trying to get people to agree to interviews, and we got nowhere.”

  “Yeah, everyone’s been jerks that way.”

  At Jessie’s drawled comment, the two women murmured agreement. Easton leveled a flat look them. “Those jerks are my friends and family,” he reminded them.

  River’s hand touched his arm. “Sorry, Easton,” she said. “That came out wrong. It’s been tough here.”

  “Yeah,” Bree echoed. “I’m sorry too.”

  With a snort, Jessie sat back in his chair. “Well, I’m not sorry.”

  “Really, Jessie?” Bree rolled her eyes.

  “I’m not. A kid threw his gum at me yesterday. Locks like mine and gum do not mix.”

  Bree kicked him in the leg, ignoring Jessie’s yelp of pain. “He let us stay in his house last night, and we’re getting an interview. Maybe even on camera, so try not to be an ass.”

  “It’s part of my charm,” he assured her.

  “Is it though?”

  The pair began bickering, which seemed to be part of a pattern for them. Maybe River was used to it, because she seemed to tune them out completely. Instead, she squeezed his hand.

  “We’ll take your lead on this, Easton. I promise.”

  River looked so sweet and innocent and completely capable of not causing utter chaos in his life. Easton drained his coffee.

  He’d believe that when he saw it.

  Chapter 7

  Seeing Easton soaking wet had officially destroyed River’s calm. All that long brown hair falling over his shoulder…all damp and Easton-y.

  So Easton-y.

  Even as she sat in an armchair across from his grandmother, River had to fight to keep her focus on Ruby Lou and not Easton, who was standing guard over her wheelchair, arms crossed and beard bristly. River didn’t think they’d done anything to put his back up, but it was hard to tell with him. He might have been standing there, thinking about cabbage rolls, for all she knew. Or maybe he thought they were being offensively invasive with his grandmother.

  Ruby Lou was fascinating. She might have been in her nineties, but her eyes were bright and her enthusiasm contagious. And her stories hysterical. They had to take several breaks in between filming to let Ruby Lou rest her voice and to allow her to gather her thoughts. But they now had more information on the inner workings of Moose Springs than ever. The interview had gone far better than River could have hoped for. She’d never been on that side of things, having always been the one being interviewed, but the pleasure on Ruby Lou’s face at each question had been worth every second.

  River definitely owed Easton big time.

  Every so often, Ruby Lou would turn in her wheelchair and take Easton’s hand. Each time, he allowed himself to be patted, nudged, or moved wherever Ruby Lou decided. Stoic affection for grandmothers might be River’s new favorite thing ever.

  “He’s a handsome boy, isn’t he?” Ruby Lou said, smiling at her grandson proudly.

  Yes. Absolutely. The sanctity and innocence of white towels had forever been ruined.

  “Ruby, would you be willing to tell us more of how the town reacted to the resort being built?” Jessie asked. “And, Easton, stop looking like a Dothraki. You’re ruining the shot.”

  “A what?”

  Jessie was not impressed. “Dude, if you didn’t watch Game of Thrones, you and I are never going to be soul mates.”

  “Guess I’ll have to manage,” Easton said.

  The two shared a smile. Why hadn’t she kissed him last night? Oh, that’s right. Because it was wrong. Wrong and…torture-y. So torture-y.

  Fingers snapped to get her attention. “River?” Bree murmured.

  “
Hmm?”

  “You’re drifting, River.”

  “Sorry, Ruby Lou. I was thinking that yes, your grandson is very handsome.” Leaning in, River added conspiratorially, “He’s refusing to let us put him on film, except for his legs.”

  “Feet,” Easton rumbled.

  “We’re up to his knees at the very least. Maybe you could convince him?”

  Ruby Lou’s eyes lit up, catching on to River’s joke. “Of course I could. I’d love to see my flesh and blood in a real movie.”

  “It’s a documentary, Grandma—”

  “It’s a real movie,” Ruby Lou said firmly. “Don’t you put down the hard work of these nice people. It’s better than playing around on rocks for a living. And you do look like a Dothraki, child. Try not to stand so straight.”

  “Burn.” Jessie made a noise of sheer bliss from behind his camera. “Ruby Lou, you are my absolute favorite person alive.”

  Ruby continued to talk, but when her stories started to blend with each other, River knew it was time to wrap things up. River took her hands, squeezing them gently in gratitude. “Thank you so much. You were wonderful.”

  “Do you think I could see the movie when you’re done with it?” Ruby Lou asked.

  “Of course. I’ll mail a copy right to you as soon as it gets out of postproduction.”

  “Easton, are you taking this sweet girl up through the Veil?”

  Kneeling next to her wheelchair, Easton rested his arm behind her frail shoulders. “I’m taking her to the Veil, Grandma. I haven’t decided if we’re trying to summit yet.”

  “In July?”

  Consternation crossed his features, and he sighed. “Have you been listening to Ash?”

  “Maybe Ashtyn has been listening to me.” She leaned over and patted Easton’s arm. “You’ll be careful.”

  “I always am.”

  Ruby Lou placed her fingers against Easton’s bearded jaw. “Your grandfather would tell you that you need a haircut.”

  With a low chuckle, Easton kissed her cheek fondly. “I’ll think about it.”