“Lars doing a good job?” he asked her.
“Very good,” she answered. “Saw all of the scouted locations today.”
“You like ‘em?”
Wow, what a forward question. “Umm. Well, we’ve only just met, but you know, he seems really—”
“The locations. Not my brother.”
“Oh!” She felt her face flush with heat as Maggie returned with her coffee.
“You teasin’ her, Nils?”
“Just asked what she thought of the locations.”
“They’re–um, they’re great. Great choices.” Why was she so flustered? She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks. Damn, Jane, get yourself together!
Nils nodded, but she saw the merry twinkle in his eyes and suspected Lars would be hearing about this later. Her face coloring bright red was as good as showing her cards. Paul had noticed too.
“Hey, Jane…that stuff I said yesterday? About Lars and the park girls? He and Erik used to carouse a lot when they were younger, but he’s really not like that anymore. He’s my best friend.” He glanced at Nils sheepishly. “Like a brother, really. Some as good, but none better, Jane. Really.”
“Well, he’s very good at what he does, which is what matters the most to me. He seems to know the park inside out.”
“He’s always been like that. In there all the time: winter, summer, rain, snow, didn’t matter, still doesn’t. Lars and Yeller are like two halves of the same thing. Sometimes you don’t know where the park ends, and Lars begins.”
Jane heard the wistful, affectionate undertones in Nils’s voice. “He seems very knowledgeable.”
Nils nodded. “He is, but it’s more than that. Loves that dang park better than anywhere or anything in the world. I guess some folks would say that limits him. There’s so much of Yeller, though, you could live a lifetime and never see it all.” He made a bridge with the cards then slid them to Maggie who cut them. “But, our Midten’ll die trying.”
“Midten?”
“Means middle,” said Maggie, smiling askance at Nils who looked up at her and nodded in approval before looking back down at his cards.
Jane watched Maggie’s eyes as they lingered on Nils and she was moved by what she saw there: a frank, deep affection that went well beyond friends who played cards together. There was a humming current that existed between Nils and Maggie. Were they a couple? They must be, though Jane saw no outward signs that they were anything more than friends. Maybe they were just very conservative in their PDA, because there was definitely something between them.
“Our mamma was Norwegian,” said Nils softly.
“Called her three boys Største, Midten and Minste. Biggest, middle, and littlest,” said Maggie.
“Not that Erik much appreciated being called Minste,” said Nils, grinning up at Maggie again like she was the only girl in the whole room, the whole universe.
“Seems to be just fine with it now,” Paul observed.
Maggie turned from Nils and smiled at Jane. “His bonnie wife Kat calls him Minste, and no complaints. And now, enough talk. More euchre.”
“And Miss Mystic,” teased Jane.
Paul grinned at Jane as Nils finished dealing, but it was a half-smile, wary.
“Are you going for a visit?” she asked, referring to their conversation last night.
“I bought a ticket,” Paul confessed.
“Does she know yet?”
“She knows.” A shadow passed over his face and he lowered his gaze. “I’m just not sure she loves the idea.”
“Oh…well, I’m sure she will. Give her time to get used to the idea. Sometimes we have to protect our hearts, you know. Move forward with caution.” Jane smiled at him, wondering if her words were intended for Paul or herself, hoping no one at the table had caught the transparency of her own feelings as she doled out advice to someone else.
“You know?” said Paul, brightening. “I think you’re a good luck charm, Jane…or maybe you’re just very, very wise.”
Jane tried to pay attention as they explained to her how to play, but her mind was circling around Paul’s words.
Very wise? Not so much.
A wise woman wouldn’t have let Lars kiss her today.
A wise woman wouldn’t be going out on a date with him tomorrow night.
Because, let’s face it, a wise woman wouldn’t set herself up for such a big fall.
CHAPTER 4
With Samara’s cottage ready for her and the shoot locations confirmed, Jane didn’t feel any pressure to jump out of bed the next morning. As the sun poured in through the curtained window of her hotel room, she lay in bed, checking her phone, which had been quiet throughout the night, except for some “boob” pictures Samara had texted to her.
One of Samara’s favorite things was to occasionally send Jane pictures of her cleavage—and sometimes bare breasts—taken when she was drunk in an attempt to shock her cousin. Jane rolled her eyes, hitting erase, erase, erase. Must have been quite a party last night.
Jane sent herself a reminder to call Sebastian in a few hours and make sure Samara didn’t send the photos to anyone else…and was in shape for traveling tomorrow.
Then she pulled the comforter over her head and went back to sleep.
The insistent buzzing of her phone rattling on the bedside table woke her up two hours later. She fumbled for the phone, pressing the green answer button and put the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“JANE!”
“Sara?”
“Who is that delicious piece of ass in the pics you sent me yesterday?”
Jane’s eyes popped open, and her heart started racing. No. No! I copied those photos and put them in a separate file! She sat up, swinging her legs over the bed.
“I don’t…” She raced to the table, opened her laptop and clicked on her email program. She scrolled through the pictures, and her heart dropped when she saw the two re-titled pictures of Lars included at the end of the location shots. Her shoulders caved in, and she sat down in the closest chair. Even though she put copies in the separate folder, she’d forgotten to delete the originals from the master file she’d sent to her cousin.
“Who is he, Janie?” Sara was using the singsong coquette voice that she used to get what she wanted.
“Local tour operator.”
“He’s hot.”
“Hmm.”
“Scalding.”
“Well…”
“Well…nothing. Might be a spot for him in my shoot…if he’s nice to me.”
Jane shut her eyes tightly, holding her breath.
“Definitely a spot for him in my bed, if you know what I mean. Samara wants.”
Jane lowered the phone, holding it in her lap, clenching her jaw until it actually ached. She could hear Sara still making her insane demands, even with the phone two feet from her ear. “…Jane? Jane! Did you hear me? I want him. Make it happen!”
You make it happen. I’m not your pimp.
Jane ignored her cousin, putting the phone back up to her ear and changing the subject. “Sara, you sent me boob pics last night.”