“I’m starting a new job soon, and my buddies decided we needed a road trip. Bear came here a few years ago and wanted to show it to us.”
“Bear?” I ask, my brows knitting together.
“Short for Barrington, but everyone calls him Bear. He’s also built like one and can grow a full beard in four days.”
His eyes warm when he talks about his friend, and that makes me smile. “Where are you from?”
“A little town you’ve probably never heard of.”
I squint at him. “Try me.”
“Gardener. It’s on the Payette River.”
“Down south,” I say because I’ve floated the Payette a couple of times, and Gardener is one of the take-outs. It’s more farm and cow country than the mountains up here.
He gives me another chin dip and the hint of a smile. “You know your geography.”
“I’m a wildlife biologist for the State of Idaho. I’d better know it.”
His eyebrows disappear into his hairline. “Seriously?”
A tendril of unease works up my chest, but I laugh it off. “Don’t look so surprised.”
“You’re too pretty to be a wildlife biologist.”
I tear my hand from his and step back. “Excuse me?”
Chapter Two
Oh fuck.“That came out really bad,” I stammer while racking my brain for some way to reclaim the easy, playful conversation we were having.
What kind of misogynistic asshole says something like that?
“I didn’t mean that you can’t be pretty, because you obviously are, or that you can’t be smartandpretty, like together, because you’re both, obviously.”
Oh my fucking god what is wrong with me? “Obviously, I’m an idiot. If you want to throw a drink in my face, I’ll buy it for you.”
After a moment that goes on way too long, she finally flashes me a cute little smirk. “Why would I waste a good drink like that?”
I huff out a shaky laugh. “Would it help if I bought two? One to enjoy and the other to put me in my place.”
She cocks her head. “Or we could just keep dancing?”
I offer her my hand. “I like that idea a lot.”
She accepts, stepping in to my hold again. The warmth from her touch coupled with gratitude that she’s not just pretty and smart but also forgiving makes me feel ten times lighter.
Since getting sober two years ago, I’ve had to navigate things likea night out with a totally different roadmap. I can no longer rely on alcohol to make me confident, or interesting, or less anxious, or a better dancer.
It’s just me as myself. That used to scare the fuck out of me. It still does sometimes, like right now when I’m trying—and failing—to not put my foot in it.
She gazes up at me. “What’s the new job?”
“It’s top secret.”
“Um, what?” A surprised laugh bubbles out of her.
“What’s your name?” Maybe if I keep her guessing, she won’t pick up on my total lack of chill.