Tiller nodded. “It’s one of the projects I wanted to ask you about. There are three little A-frame chalets a little farther up the mountain on our property. We thought they’d make some good long-term rental properties. Maybe bring in enough money to cover the utilities on the lodge itself until we get the bed-and-breakfast up and running.”
I looked at the man who’d already earned at least fifty million dollars in his pro career and was currently in the middle of another obscene contract with the Houston Riggers. Mikey met my eyes with an expression of suppressed laughter.
I couldn’t resist teasing Tiller. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll help you get some money coming in. Give you a little breathing room in your budget for once.”
Tiller grabbed a sofa cushion and launched it at me as Mikey finally let the laughter go.
It was nice to be among good friends. Comfortable companionship was all I needed. And if the image of Truman’s sweet little body appeared naked and hungry in my dreams later that night, it was only an indication my balls were overdue for some much-needed relief.
That was all.
4
Truman
Dinner at Mikey and Tiller’s house was a little more awkward than normal because of the large, hulking presence of their moody friend from Houston.
It wasn’t that Sam had a mean face, exactly, but he definitely didn’t seem to think much of me. And I could hardly blame him. I’d gotten him into trouble with the sheriff’s office before he’d even technically arrived in town. He probably hated me anyway.
But… but there had been one moment in the kitchen when the two of us were both bringing dirty dishes to the sink that he’d moved past me in a narrow space and put his big hands on my hips. His touch had been so gentle, so tender, I’d felt goose bumps erupt all over my body.
“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he’d murmured so softly, I’d wondered if I’d imagined it. The words, whether they’d been imagined or real, had lit a fire inside my chest that had burned all night long.
But in the morning, I awoke to find the front door of my house hanging wide open and a hastily scribbled note sitting on my kitchen counter, held down by a dirty rock from the garden.
Tell your friend to drop the charges.
My hand shook as I made my way to the front window. There was no sign of Patrick Stanner or his brother, Craig, but it had obviously been one of the two. Their father wasn’t usually sober enough to accomplish much of anything, and he’d even lost his driver’s license a while ago.
I relocked and triple-checked the bolt on the front door and went around the old farmhouse making sure the window locks were also secure. For the hundredth time, I wished I had the money to fix the gate at the end of the driveway. As a single woman, Aunt Berry had taken her home security seriously, but a snowplow had bumped into one of the posts two years ago and knocked it out of alignment. The solution involved digging out the cement from the original post and replacing it completely, work I wasn’t strong enough to do on my own or wealthy enough to hire out.
I decided to call my friend Chaya to see if she wanted to meet me for breakfast at the diner. My nerves were shot, and I really didn’t want to be alone.
“Only if it’s a quickie,” she said. “I’m taking riding lessons from Nina at Crooked Bar Ranch before my shift at the shop this afternoon.”
I agreed and raced through a quick shower before throwing on jeans and a hoodie. I normally tried to make a better effort, but I didn’t have the time or energy for a dapper ensemble this morning.
When I got to the diner, Pim pointed me to a booth partway down the side wall where Chaya was already sipping coffee.
“Hey,” I said, sliding into the red vinyl seat. “I like your hair like that.”
She was almost a foot taller than I was, and her giant mane of dark curly hair had been tidied into two side braids like a little girl. It didn’t match her brash personality at all, but it pulled her usually unruly mop away from her face enough to make her look fresh-faced and innocent. There was no way in hell I was going to tell her that, though. I valued my life too much.
“It’s the only way to get it to fit under the helmet,” she muttered. “I look like a damned milkmaid.”
I snickered under my breath. “You said it, not me.”
“Why do you look pale, hon? Did something happen? I heard from Mia there was a kerfuffle outside the shop yesterday.”
I took a breath. Aster Valley was too small to keep anyone’s secrets. There was no way to expect the scene from yesterday not to have already gotten around town.
“It’s fine. A friend of Tiller and Mikey’s got into some trouble with his motorcycle, that’s all.”
She opened her mouth to question me, but Pim appeared with a pot of coffee and cut her off. “Tell me everything. I heard you were stung by a rabid swarm of bees and had to be taken to the hospital by a miscreant on a motorcycle.”
He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes. This town was crazy.
“It was nothing, I promise. Just a misunderstanding.”
Pim set the coffeepot down and pulled out his order pad. “I heard it involved that hunk from Houston. What was his name? Simba? Sylvester?”
“Sam,” I said. “And I’m pretty sure you knew that since you’ve met him before.”
Pim’s hand fluttered against his chest. “Those muscles. That ass. That brooding scowl…”
His husband Bill’s voice came from the kitchen. “You think I can’t hear you, but I can.”
Chaya laughed. “Okay, I’ve got to see a woman about a horse, so will you please ask Bill to make me a breakfast combo with scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns?”
Pim jotted it on his pad. “And you, Mr. Sweet?”
“I’ll take some dry toast. Thanks.”
Both Pim and Chaya stared at me for a minute before Pim wrote something down and muttered under his breath. “Dry toast and a peanut butter, banana, and chocolate protein smoothie.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I wasn’t hungry enough for my favorite smoothie today, but he’d already bolted through the kitchen door.
“What’s wrong?” Chaya asked. “And don’t bullshit me this time.”
“It was Patrick Stanner. He crushed Sam’s motorcycle on purpose because Sam stopped to defend me against his harassment.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That fucker. This has gone too far, Tru. We need to contact the State Police. Sheriff Stanner is never going to prosecute those sons of bitches for their bullshit harassment. Something worse is going to happen, and we both know it.”
“I don’t want to get anyone into trouble.” It was something I’d already told her a million times, but the sentence was starting to sound ridiculous.
Chaya sat back and folded her arms in front of her. “Well, maybe this Sam will finally get Patrick into trouble. Someone from out of state is hardly going to accept them not bringing charges against him.”
When I didn’t say anything, she pressed me. “Surely, this friend of Mikey and Tiller is pressing charges.”
I shrugged. “I mean… it sounded like he was. But when he mentioned it, the sheriff took Sam in instead. I found out later they didn’t charge him with anything, but I think it was their way of trying to intimidate him out of accusing Patrick of the property destruction.”