“Matt’s pretty hot,” Mallory agreed. “But I wouldn’t say he’s the
There was a beat of silence as the three of them thought about the incredible hotness that was Ty and Matt, side by side. Amy let the image sink in and shivered, which she covered by stuffing another big bite of brownie into her mouth. There were certain things she knew for sure. When in doubt, eat chocolate. When stressed, eat chocolate. When in doubt
“Did you at least dream about all the things you would do to him?” Grace asked. “Cuz that’s what I’d have done.”
Hell, yes, Amy had dreamed about all the things she’d like to do to Matt. Repeatedly. Not the point. “Yesterday he found a homeless teen up where we camped and brought her here to the diner. We fed her and then took her to my place so she could have a bed and a hot shower.”
“We?” Mallory asked. “You took Matt home with you as well?”
“He showed up on his own. I found him outside my house keeping watch.” She shook her head. “Not sure what that was about, to be honest.”
“I bet he wanted to make sure you were okay,” Mallory said.
Amy laughed, and Mallory and Grace exchanged a telling glance. “I’m
“Honey.” Mallory covered Amy’s hand with her own. “Why wouldn’t Matt trust you?”
Because no one ever had. But that was before, she reminded herself, before she’d worked so hard at growing up and separating herself from the past. She needed to remember that.
Mallory squeezed her hand. “Can I ask you something?”
“No, you can’t have another brownie. They’re all mine now.”
Mallory smiled but shook her head. “Why would you give Riley a chance and not Matt?”
“What are you talking about? Matt’s never wanted a chance with me.”
“Oh, please.” Mallory gave her a get-real look. “The guy comes into the diner only when you’re working. He sits at
“Yeah, and how’s that?” Amy asked.
“Like you’re lunch.”
Amy squirmed a little bit because deep down she knew it was true. She’d caught him at it. It never failed to evoke a multitude of emotions, not the least of which was an undeniable lust in return, but also something deeper and far more complicated than sheer desire.
And that’s what made it so uncomfortable. That’s what scared her.
“So I’ll ask you again,” Mallory said quietly. “Why not give him a shot?”
It was a question for which Amy didn’t have the answer.
Matt knew he had a reputation for being laid-back and easygoing. He wasn’t sure that either of those things was exactly true, but part of the appearance came from being prepared for anything at any time.
This ability had been honed in the military and then on the streets of Chicago. If a guy could survive warfare and SWAT, he could survive anything. Certainly one willowy, enigmatic, tough-nut-to-crack brunette named Amy Michaels.
He wanted to see her again. He’d resisted for two days now, but then he caught sight of her at the front counter of the ranger station. His office was down a hallway so she hadn’t seen him, but he’d seen her just fine. After she left, his junior ranger manning the desk had said she’d asked for a map to Four Lakes.
Matt had known she’d gone back up to Sierra Meadows the other day. He’d seen her there, amongst the diamond rocks, sketching. It’d taken all he’d had to leave her to the privacy she’d obviously wanted.
But why was she suddenly out on the mountain on her days off, hiking alone? He didn’t know, but he wanted to, so he made it a point to patrol today instead of trying to conquer the mountain of paperwork in his office. Just as well since he’d been taking a ribbing all morning for a certain Facebook post that had gone up the other day, something about how he’d added two new duties to his job description: rescuing maidens and playing doctor.
His staff had loved that. So had Josh and Ty, both of whom had called him with the news like two little girls, the fuckers. Matt could only imagine what Amy thought of it.
He found her just where he thought he would, up at Four Lakes. What he hadn’t expected was that she’d be about fifteen feet up a huge five-hundred-year-old spruce at the base of the first of the four lakes, which were connected by little tributaries.
Amy was holding a sketch pad and was talking either to herself or to the tree.
“If you fall,” she was saying, “you know who’s going to come get you, right? And just your luck, you’ll break your fat ass this time…”
“Your ass isn’t fat,” Matt said, staring up at the long, toned leg hanging down. “It’s perfect. And what the hell are you doing up there?”
She went still, then leaned over a branch and peered down at him. “I’m not lost.”
“Good. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
This was met by silence and a rainfall of pine needles as she began to climb down. Her backpack dropped to the ground and then the sketch pad. Then those long legs came within reach, so Matt grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out of the tree. “Hey there, Tough Girl.”
“Hey.” Her warm body slid down every inch of his, and there was a moment just before her feet touched the ground where he’d have sworn she even nestled into him.
Or maybe that was his imagination, because then she stepped free. She was wearing jeans shorts, emphasis on short, and a V-neck tee that was loose enough to be hanging off one shoulder, revealing a bright blue bra strap. She had a scratch on her jaw and a smudge of dirt across her forehead. “The tree’s taller than I thought,” she said.
“What were you looking for?”
“Nothing important.”
Nothing important, his ass. She wasn’t the type of woman to climb a tree just for the hell of it. But if he knew anything about her, it was that he couldn’t push for answers. He needed a diversion for now, then he’d work his way back to the subject at hand. “How’s Riley?” He’d heard back from Sawyer that the teen wasn’t a missing person, or even a person of interest, so there’d been no legal reason to interfere in her life again. But he wanted to know that she was okay.
“I haven’t seen her after the sleepover,” Amy said. “I know you were worried about her, and also about me taking care of her, but she’s gone. I’m sorry.”
Unable to stop himself, Matt stroked a strand of hair out of her pretty eyes. “I was never worried about you taking care of her.”
“Maybe you should have been.”
“Why?” he asked, confused.
“Well, it’s not like you know me, not really. I could be a horrible person, who’s done horrible things.”
“I know enough,” he said firmly.
“But-”
He put a finger on her lips. She stared at him for a long beat, as if taking measure of his honesty. Or maybe she was deciding on a way to kick his ass for shushing her. Then her gaze dropped to his mouth, and he hoped she was remembering how good it felt on hers.
Because that’s what he was remembering. Ducking a little, he cupped her jaw and eyed her newest injury-the scratch. It could use some antiseptic. He ran his other hand down her arm to her wrapped wrist. “How is this
