“We were at the Butte,” Chloe said to his broad, tense back. “We ran out of gas and had to wait until daylight to catch a ride.”
He looked at her. “It’s illegal to party out there.”
“We ran out of gas,” she repeated.
“Did you lose your cell phone too?”
Chloe sighed dramatically. “I forgot mine at home, okay? And Lance doesn’t carry one.”
Sawyer locked eyes with hers. “Were you with Todd?”
“For a while.”
“He had a phone.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Because it’s now residing in his personal possessions baggie for when he bails himself out after he sobers up.”
“You arrested him? Seriously?”
Sawyer was unapologetic and unmoved. “He staggered into the convenience store at five this morning, knocked over three displays, and urinated on the magazine stand.” He shook his head. “And you and Lance have a serious death wish, you know that? What if he’d had a medical problem out there?”
“He needed to do this, Sawyer. It isn’t my place to babysit him and tell him what he can and can’t do.”
“Jesus, Chloe, his cystic fibrosis isn’t a fucking summer cold!”
“And you think he doesn’t know that?”
“And what about you?” he asked. “Does the inhaler always do the job? I don’t think so. You can’t tell me you’ve never had to make a trip to the ER because of an asthma attack while climbing.”
“
“I’m not pissed.” His face was impassive. The cop face. “That would imply that there were feelings between us.”
Chloe stared at him for a long beat. “My mistake then,” she finally said.
Sawyer stared at her right back, then swore beneath his breath and left without another word. When the door shut behind him with quiet fury, Chloe let out a breath.
“Gee,” Tara said in the silence. “No tension there.”
“Don’t you start too.” Chloe headed directly for the refrigerator and some leftover Not Yo Mama’s Apple Pie.
“Was it just you, Tucker, Lance, and Todd up there?” Tara asked.
“No. Lance brought a bunch of friends, and one thing led to another.”
So Sawyer was right. It
“No one had sex. Or at least I didn’t.” Chloe sighed. “Bunch of stupid boys in this town.”
“Sawyer isn’t stupid.”
“And he’s not a boy, either.”
Tara watched as Chloe shoveled away the pie like she hadn’t eaten in a week. “What is he, then?”
“Hell, Tara, do I need to give you the birds and the bees talk? Why can’t you get the deets off the Internet like all the other kids these days?”
When Tara laughed, Chloe relaxed slightly. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” she said.
“A common theme amongst us sisters,” Tara said.
“What’s this?” Chloe asked. “Regret? From the most private sister of them all?” Without waiting for an answer, she took her plate to the sink and headed to the door. “I’m out.”
When Tara was alone, she sighed. “Yeah. I’d definitely call it regret.” Shaking it off, she began pulling out all the ingredients she needed for the Good Morning Sunshine Casserole, which she’d adapted from Mia’s recipe. She was grating cheese when the back door and the door leading to the hallway opened at the same time.
Logan came in one, and Ford the other.
Immediately, the testosterone level shot up and hit maximum velocity in two point zero seconds as both men stared at each other over Tara’s head.
“Well, if it isn’t the drinking buddies,” Tara said dryly. “Should I break out the mimosas, boys?”
“I just came by to help,” Logan said. “Since you keep burning meals and all.”
“How are you going to help?” Ford asked. “You actually cook?”
“Well, no, but I give real good help,” Logan said with a charming smile in Tara’s direction.
“
Logan’s eyes narrowed, and Tara felt yet another competition coming on. She’d heard about the abs of steel contest at The Love Shack. Part of her still couldn’t believe it, and the other part of her wished she’d seen it herself.
“Okay, you know what?” She dropped an empty bag into Logan’s hands and gave his leanly muscled, warm body a push out the back door. “I need some apples. Go pick me some, would you?”
Ford, looking big and bad and very cocky, leaned back against the counter with a smile.
“Oh, no.” Tara shoved him out after Logan. “You too. And play nice.” She shut the door on them both, threw the casserole into the oven, and turned and met Mia’s amused glance.
“I showed up to make sure you didn’t have any trouble,” the teen said.
“Well, the trouble part is taken care of. Other than that, everything’s the same old status quo. My life is pretty boring.”
“Yeah.” Mia laughed. “Okay, let’s work on
“I swear I’m a good cook,” Tara said, needing to be good at
Logan and Ford had each shimmied up a tree-Logan with the help of a stepladder-and were making piles of apples. Big piles.
More than she needed for the next month.
Not that they were doing it for
Mia joined her at the window and raised a single brow-yet another talent she’d inherited from her father. Together they watched the guys pick apples.
“And you think your life is boring,” Mia murmured.
“You’re sleeping with her.” Logan repeated this grimly to Ford from somewhere inside his apple tree. With his arm injury, he’d been slower to climb up.
Ford, having the free use of both arms, hadn’t needed a ladder to climb the adjacent tree. “This is not news,” he told Logan. “You read Facebook.”
“Christ. I should just kill you. Or me. It’d be less painful to be dead.”
“You’re not in any real pain,” Ford said in disgust. “It’s just your fucking ego. You hate to lose.”
“Said the pot to the kettle,” Logan muttered.
Okay, that might be true, but this was more than about winning for Ford. It was about Tara, a woman he couldn’t live without. He pulled himself up to the next branch and dropped another three perfect apples. He glanced down. Yep, his pile was bigger than Logan’s. Even as he thought so with deep satisfaction, an apple whizzed by his ear, so close it disturbed his hair. “Hey-”
Logan flashed a grim smile and chucked another one. Ford saw this one coming and ducked again, and slipped. “Shit-”
That’s all he got out before he lost his grip, his temper, and his balance all at once.
And fell out of the tree.
Chapter 25
