While he’s busy searching, I drink in the plain white T-shirt that outlines his muscular shoulders and chest and his dark green uniform pants that somehow fit his waist like they were tailored to his body.
What is wrong with me? It’s not like I’m impressed by a guy in uniform. Dad wears one. So do Zach and William.
CJ steps next to me and reaches to wet the towel. Just his nearness sends a wave of soft heat rolling down my spine. It reminds me how good he felt pressed up against me Sunday night at the Sweetwater.
“You wanna tell me why we’re lying to your dad?” he asks, arching an eyebrow before he spins away with the towel.
I shut off the water. “I did it for you as much as for me.”
He wipes down the coffeemaker and gives the counter one final swipe. “He doesn’t have to know we?—”
“I didn’t expect to see you again.” I take the dishtowel from him, ignoring the buzz under my skin when our fingers brush. “Yet you must have known we’d cross paths.”
He braces off the counter. “I thought it would be a fun surprise when we did.” After a heaving sigh, he spins around, his stormy eyes earnest. “But I should have told you.”
I get what he’s saying, but I don’t need things getting any messier.
“And how was I supposed to know my new boss would be your dad?” He crosses his arms, which just makes me want to nibble up the line of muscle in his bicep. “You didn’t tell me you were from Finn River.”
“I’m not telling a potential ax murderer where I live.” I toss the dishtowel in the sink.
He chuckles, but it’s low and sultry. “And yet you had no trouble getting yourself off with one?”
A needy throbbing tightens low in my belly. “It’s not like I went home with you.”
His stormy gaze sweeps down my body then back up to my eyes. “If public places are your thing, we could?—”
“You didn’t ask for my number.”
He releases a full breath, puffing his handsomely scruffy cheeks. I remember what it felt like to kiss him while his soft mustache brushed my lips. What would that mustache feel like elsewhere?
The front door opens, and CJ locks eyes with me for an instant. “I should have done that too,” he says in a low tone just as Bruneau bounds around the corner, followed by Dad, dressed in barn clothes.
“Oh, you’re up.” Dad scowls at CJ, but his eyes soften when he sees me. “Why don’t you come with us today, huh? You know the Winter Range Project better than anyone.”
My empty stomach cramps, unease spreading through me. “I’m going to yoga with Maryanne. In fact, I need to head out.”
I wanted to find a way to apologize for this lie I’ve forced CJ into, but now I’m too flustered, and this whole situation is unsettling. I thought I was okay with the Sweetwater being a one-time thing, but now CJ’s here, in my life, messing with my plans. So I give Dad a quick hug then head for the door. Coffee will have to wait.
I guess honesty will too.
At least a foot of new snow fell overnight, but the dawn sky is peppered with twinkling stars. It would be a great day to visit Finn River’s Winter Range, but something inside me resists, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the company? The Winter Range Project has special meaning to me. Could it be that sharing it with the guy I got reckless with in a crowded bar makes me feel even more vulnerable? Though CJ seemed to take interest in it, so that’s probably not the cause.
Is it because I’m afraid of what I’ll feel when I’m there? The longing that’s never quite gone away?
The yoga studio is located in the center of town, on the secondfloor of an old building with creaky floors and a view of Bear Lake, which is half the reason I agreed to come.
When I arrive, Maryanne is waiting for me in the entryway. “I just saw your text about CJ. That’s quite the plot twist.”
“Later,” I mutter under my breath as I stuff my things in one of the cubbies because class starts in one minute.
Thankfully, Maryanne saved me a spot because the class is surprisingly crowded. How can so many people be awake at this hour, let alone eager to cram into close quarters just to get sweaty together? At least Maryanne and I are near the big window so I can gaze across the sleepy downtown to the sapphire expanse of the lake framed by the rolling, snow-covered foothills.
While the teacher runs us through our paces and the hot air thickens with everyone’s collective breathing, my thoughts wander back to the kitchen this morning.
What CJ shared spins round and round in my thoughts. It was so much simpler when I thought I’d never see him again. He purposefully withheld that he’s a conservation officer. Maybe I could count the way it came off as harmless flirting, but I flat-out told him that honesty is the most important thing to me, and what did he do? He completely failed to own up.
I will not give my precious time and energy to someone hell bent on deceiving me. It happened with Nathan, and crawling my way out of another hole isn’t something I’m eager to do again. Ever.