Why not Wyoming? (Wyoming Wilds Series Book 1) (3 page)

“Piece?” she asked, wondering if she’d hit her head harder than
she’d thought.

“Piece, project. I make furniture. Not professionally. I mean I
sell some of my pieces, but it’s more of a hobby,” CJ said, rambling before
finishing up with, “It’s just something to keep me busy.”

She bit her lip to squelch a grin, the manly aw-shucks thing he
had going on was so sexy. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’d love to see some of your work sometime.”

His head jerked back up. “You would? I mean, yeah. Sure. If we
get the chance I’ll, um, we’ll do that.”

Annie frowned as those beautiful eyes clenched shut and he
shook his head. She reached out to catch the fingers hanging loosely over his right
knee.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just, you’d think by thirty I’d be over getting
tongue-tied around a pretty girl.”

The words stole hers. She blinked, sorting back through the
conversation from every direction. Each time she came to the same conclusion.
He’d just called her a pretty girl. She couldn’t have stopped the goofy grin
that spread over her face if she’d tried.   

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever even dreamed a man would
say to me.”

“I would’ve thought as a writer you’d have a more vivid
imagination.”

“Simplistic and from the heart is so much better than empty
flash,” she said, squeezing his fingers. His dimples deepened and her heart
fluttered. “You’re welcome to join me,” she whispered. “We have a poolside view
of the pageant’s water volleyball competition.”

CJ glanced at the pool and then back at her. “I’m much more
interested in the view right here. I’ll be right back.”

Annie bit her lip watching him walk away. What was it about the
man that made her feel like a teenager? Worse yet, sound like one. She might
not have been on many dates since high school, but she wrote romance. She knew
the stench of desperation was not something men went for, especially the man’s
man variety like CJ.

Fumbling, she repositioned the rolled towel behind her neck and
closed her eyes with a groan. Seeking advice from Crystal was iffy at the best
of times and not an option right now. It wasn’t that her cousin didn’t want to
help, just that men came easy for her. Even with everything going on, she’d
probably be excited by both the prospect and the distraction. But CJ was
Tyler’s cousin. What if Crys said something to him? Water exploded into Annie’s
face.

A cry escaped her as she turned away, arms coming up to protect
her head.

“Incoming!”

Laughter followed the shout and something brushed her elbow.
Swiping water out of her eyes, she glared at the bobbing volleyball. Batting it
away, she shifted the focus of her ire to the pool’s occupants.

“Thanks for the heads up. NORAD you’re not.”

More laughter.

“Come on. Throw it back.”

Snatching up the ball, she stepped on the seat and punched it
back with a wicked spike. Cat calls and teasing followed the lawyer’s attempt
at protecting his face.

“Whoa! She’s small but mighty!”

“Careful counselor!”

“I’d object to that if I were you!”

“Why aren’t you playing, Mighty Mouse?”

“You couldn’t handle it,” Annie said with a haughty sniff and
sank back into the bubbling water.

“High School volleyball star?”

Annie shook her head, holding her breath as CJ stripped off his
t-shirt and stepped carefully down into the tub. Board shorts that graduated
from shades of blue to black were flattering and looked comfortable. Dark
whorls of hair covered his chest and trailed down to circle his navel. It made
him look all the more like a teddy bear. Cuddling up with that in front of the
fire might make Wyoming winters bearable.

“Don’t let them get to you.”

“What?” she asked, eyes snapping up to meet his.

“I said don’t let them get to you.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m not. Sorry. I uh…I didn’t play volleyball in high
school. I was in gymnastics,” she said, trying to change the topic.

“Which…uh…which—”

“Events,” she supplied. “I competed in vault and floor. My
thing was power. I was never one of those tiny waifs.”

“Thank you,” he said with a shy smile. “I wasn’t sure what they
called them. Sorry. Watching a little late night Olympics is about the extent
of my exposure to gymnastics.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re in the majority. That’s most people’s
experience.”

“Did you like it?”

Her head tilted to the side in surprise. “Most people ask if I
was good at it.”

“That’s a different question. I enjoyed playing football, but I
wouldn’t say I was all that great at it.”

“I loved competing but hated the politics and backbiting,”
Annie admitted. “The coaches encouraged it. They called it healthy peer
pressure. In teenage girls with image problems, it’s not always so healthy. One
of my teammates committed suicide my senior year. Another tried and failed.
Thank God.”

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

“The sad thing is we weren’t friends, but me too. Maybe if
she’d had someone she could talk to it would’ve been different.” She shook her
head. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that is not what you were looking for when you asked
if I played volleyball. I didn’t mean to be a downer.”

“Actually, I want to know everything about you, not just the
good stuff,” he said, reaching out to capture her hand in a squeeze. “Sometimes
it’s the tough times that shape us.”

“You have an uncanny knack of saying just the right thing.”

“You’re going to have to take credit for that. Normally, I
don’t have a lot to say. You must inspire me.”

“You don’t need to say a lot when you nail it on the first
try.” She lifted her hand so their outstretched arms were resting on the edge,
fingers still entwined. “So what about you? Was football your passion?”

“Nope. Hunting and fishing were my passion. They still are.
Football was more about school pride and camaraderie. We were a small school.
We didn’t get a lot of attention from scouts or press which took a lot of the
pressure off. Our coach was all about football being a game, encouraging us to
have fun and look out for one another. We did a lot as a team off the field.
Camping, paintball, bonfires.”

“That sounds fun.” She hesitated a minute, memories tugging at
her thoughts. “I miss bonfires. Growing up, my dad never needed an excuse to
light a fire and break out the cooler, even if it was just for an evening in
the backyard.”

“What was your favorite part?”

“The stories. Some of them I heard a hundred times and they
never got old,” she said. “S’mores would be my second favorite part.”

“Do you know that you get the same look on your face when you
talk about writing, storytelling, or chocolate?” CJ asked.

She grinned and splashed him lightly. “Obviously, I save that
look for the really important things in life.”

“It’ll be a lucky man that can put that same sparkle in your
eyes.”

The intensity in his pale gaze made her heart skip. She felt
like he could see right through her. Afraid to give away too much, she dropped
her eyes to the churning water and tried to shrug playfully.

“Sounds like all he needs to do is tell good stories and keep
me supplied with the bean.”

“It’s not a bonfire, but that fireplace you love in the main
hall has been known to make a mean s’more. How about we break out the fixings
after dinner tonight?”

“Throw in a few hunting and fishing tall tales and you have
yourself a deal.”

Zipping up the camouflage onesie, Annie looked in the mirror.
Really looked. Brown hair, hazel eyes, a few freckles on the nose—she saw an
okay face but nothing special. Average Annie. She wished she could see through
someone else’s eyes, preferably CJ’s. What did he see when he looked at her? She
wrinkled her nose at her reflection. Right now she just looked like a little
kid or a well-dressed oompa loompa. Someone knocked.

On the other side of the door Miss Georgia chewed on her
thumbnail, beautiful face twisted in worry. Nikki, Annie reminded herself as
she gently pulled the blonde’s hand away from her mouth. How many times had she
done that for Crystal?

“What’s wrong, Nikki?”

“Crystal locked herself in the bathroom in her suite and won’t
come out. Some of us are worried she might hurt herself.”

Annie shook her head. “It’ll be okay. Crys wouldn’t do that.
She has kept it together since breakfast and it’s probably just hitting her
that she should be Mrs. Barrett by now. I’ll talk to her.”

The others looked relieved when she arrived. Slipping through
the handwringing mob, she knocked.

“It’s me, Crys. Open up.”

Silence.

“We’ve tried everything. She won’t even talk to us. I’m
worried.”

Annie held up a hand.

“Crys, open this door or I’m going to show all your pretty
friends that picture of you from summer camp.”

“You didn’t bring that.”

Annie smiled and tapped the door with her phone. “Ah, foolish
mortal, I can access my whole life from here with a few strokes of my virtual
keyboard,” she teased.

More silence. Annie turned the volume up and started to type.

“That’s blackmail!” the whiny voice on the other side of the
door protested.

“Now you’re catching on, buttercup!” Annie grinned at a
thumping sound. “You’re going to bruise your gourd.”

“Fine. Only you.”

The words were petulant, but the lock clicked. Annie put a hand
on the door and turned to the others.  

“Why don’t you all go ahead? We’ll be down in a little while.”

A couple of them looked uncertain.  

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this. Tell Tyler to save her a spot. She
will be down soon.”

Watching them shuffle off, she slipped into the bathroom and
relocked the door.

“I hate you.”

“I know,” Annie said, sliding down the front of the vanity to
sit on the floor across from her cousin.

Crystal yanked out another tissue and blew her nose. “Why can’t
anyone just let me sulk?”

“I would if it wasn’t affecting other people. They were
worried.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Crys muttered with a fresh sob.

She thought about that for a minute or two. “You’re probably
right. I don’t like to see you hurting. Sue me.”

“I should’ve known everything was going too smoothly.”

“I’m going to share with you some words of wisdom that my dad
said often. Shit happens.”

Crystal snorted. “I remember him saying that.”

“Not the most eloquent quote, but it’s a fact. Things happen
that we have no control over, Crys. This isn’t the end of the world. Tyler
still loves you and there will be a wedding. Think of the story this makes. It
will be perfect to tell at dinner parties while you’re entertaining your
husband’s fancy partners or rich clients.”

“Leave it to you to think of the story.”

Annie held up her phone and wiggled it back and forth. “I’ve
been keeping notes. You better hope none of those uptown girls read my books.
They will think you plagiarized me.”

“I’ll have to brag that the famous author is my pain in the ass
cousin and she ripped me off.”

“No one will believe that,” Annie scoffed.

“I have the autographed books to prove it,” Crys said with a
haughty sniff and then started to giggle.

The laughter led to a coughing fit that left her breathless and
teary-eyed, but at least smiling. “I always wanted you to write about me.”

“I know.” Annie played with the ribbon on her zipper. “I tried
a few times, but I could never capture you the way I see you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your mask is too good or I’m not a good enough writer yet. I
can’t capture your heart on paper. Until I can, all the reader will see is a
pretty picture with no depth.”

Fresh tears trickled down Crystal’s cheeks. “You think I have
depth?”

“Do you think I’d hang around just another cookie cutter?”

“We’re cousins.”

“Do I put up with Angie?”

Crystal snorted and lunged for another tissue at the mention of
their absent snooty cousin. Annie laughed and held up her phone, threatening to
take an embarrassing picture.

“Good point. But you realize with me fifteen hundred miles
away, she’s all yours now,” Crys teased when she had blown her nose again.

“She can’t get past the lobby and if she wants to stalk me
there, she might have a long wait.”

“You’re such a hermit.”

“I didn’t pay for that river view not to stare at it.”

Tidying up her mess, Crys sucked her bottom lip in. She blinked
watery eyes, trying to keep the flood at bay.

“What else is bothering you?”

“I don’t know anyone here. I’m not a cowgirl. What if I don’t
fit in or I embarrass Tyler?”

“First off, you’ll be in Billings which is about the same size
as Grand Rapids. You’re not moving to some one stoplight town with
tumbleweeds.”

Crys gave a choking laugh.

“Secondly, if Tyler wanted a cowgirl he’d have one. In case
you’ve forgotten, your fiancé is a classically handsome man and a successful
lawyer. Guys like him don’t have trouble getting dates. You’re the one he chose.
He wants the former Miss Michigan and Miss USA to be Mrs. Barrett. More
importantly, he wants you—the girl that loves horses, hockey and for some odd
ass reason, pistachios.”

“He does too,” she whispered.

“See! You’re a match made in heaven.”

“Do you remember The Next Best Thing to Robert Redford dessert
that Grandma made with the pistachio pudding?”

“Who could forget?” Annie asked with a small smile. “She made
it for every family get-together.”

“I looked it up online to make it for Ty’s birthday. It called
for chocolate pudding on most of the recipes I found, but I made it like Grandma’s.
He loved it.” 

“What did I tell you? You’re two weird peas in a pod. I predict
that you’re going to be the
it
couple of the Billings scene in no time.
Everyone is going to be jockeying to be on your guest list, or get you on
theirs.”

“I’m going to miss you, this. God. Think I could convince you
to visit lovely Billings, Montana? We have a guest room with a private bath so
you’d have your own space.”

“I already checked. It might take a couple of connections, but
I can get there,” Annie said with a wink.

Crystal pushed off the wall and into her arms. Closing her eyes,
Annie held her tight. She had a feeling she was going to be the lonely one.

A cheer went up, interrupting CJ’s brooding inspection of the
flames. His heart jumped when he saw Annie. The women raced to gather around
Crystal, not even allowing the poor girl to clear the bottom step. Annie
disappeared in the pack. Turning his attention back to the fireplace, he picked
up a camp fork and speared a couple of marshmallows. He hesitated, the white
puffs of sugar hovering over the flames. Burnt and gooey, or lightly browned?
People generally liked them one way or the other. Setting up the graham cracker
and chocolate with the other hand, he waited.

Light hands landed on his shoulders. “Burn it,” she whispered
in his ear.

He grinned and dipped the fork prongs into the fire. Annie slid
around his side and settled on a plump pillow in front of the hearth. Blowing
out the sizzling treat, he deftly squeezed the blackened mass between two
graham crackers and handed the first s’more to her. Melted chocolate and
marshmallow covered her teeth as she smiled around the first bite and hummed in
pleasure.

“Heaven,” she murmured.

Sinking down beside her and taking a bite of his, he had to
agree it was pretty close. It was a little crowded for his taste, but he’d take
what he could get with her.

“Is she oka
y?” he asked watching Crystal
finally break free and sink into Tyler’s lap. “It took some talking to convince
Ty to give you a shot before he charged up there on his white horse.”

“She’s fine. It’s just jitters. She was supposed to be Mrs.
Barrett by now and the delay is giving her more time to worry.”

“She’s not getting cold feet?”

“God, no,” she said then turned toward him, lowering her voice.
“It’s what ifs. What if I don’t fit in in Billings? What if I embarrass Tyler?
What if I’m not perfect? She’s moving fifteen hundred miles away from home to a
city where he is the only one she knows. It’s a big stage and she won’t have her
mom or her companion pony for comfort. She’s scared.”

CJ blinked when she pulled back. He immediately missed the heat
of her body and the whisper of her breath against his ear. Starting another
s’more, he forced his brain to concentrate on her words, not her. 

“I’m sure there will be some adjustment like any other couple,
but she’s already perfect in his eyes. My cousin is crazy for yours. Is
Billings that much bigger than where you are from? I thought Crystal said she
was a city girl?”

“Actually, I Googled the populations for her and Grand Rapids is
larger by seventy or eighty thousand. So it’s not that.”

CJ snorted. “Wyoming doesn’t even have a city of seventy
thousand.”

That drew her attention away from the bride. A furrow formed
between her brows.

“Cheyenne!” she said suddenly, looking a little proud of
herself. “What about Cheyenne?”

“Nope. Last I saw our capital’s population was in the low
sixties, having overtaken Casper which is just under.”

Her fingers flew over her phone. “That’s smaller than
Kalamazoo,” she protested.

“It drops into the thirties after those two,” he said amused at
her surprise. “Two of those then one or two in the twenties. Then closest to us,
we have Sheridan at just under eighteen.”

“Wow.”

He handed her another s’more.

“Wyoming is the tenth largest state but the least populated.”

“How do you know all of that off the top of your head?” she
asked, nibbling the graham cracker corners.

“I read a lot. I enjoyed US history and geography in school.
Growing up here, I have a particular fondness for Wyoming and the West.” He
shrugged. “It gives me something to talk about with the clients I take out
hunting or fishing. I tell them about my state and ask questions about theirs.
Exploring the differences opens up conversation.”

“You’re amazing.”

The words alone left him speechless, but the light kiss she
pressed on his lips blew his mind. When she pulled back, she ran her tongue
over her lips like she was tasting him. He wet his own, stalling to give his
brain time to reboot.

“Tell me what I did and I’ll do it again. I’m a quick learner.”

Annie laughed. He loved the way her eyes sparkled.

“So you do guide work as well as make furniture?”

“The woodworking is just a hobby. I make pieces for myself,
family, friends and sometimes people will commission something if I have the
time. I’m still building the guide business but it pays the bills. I could get
my old job back in the oil fields and make more. A lot more, but I help Mom and
Dad out around here when they need it and I am part of the Search and Rescue
team,” he explained, the flood of words slowly tailing off. Why did he suddenly
feel like this was an interview and he needed to sell himself?

“You said hunting and fishing were your passion. If you can
make a living at it, what could be better?”

The fear fell away. She got it. He wanted to kiss her.

“I think your mom is trying to get your attention.”

He tore his focus away from her to search out his mom near the
big screen. She gestured to him.

“Excuse me for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

“Sorry to interrupt, sweetheart, but I need your knife.”

CJ looked down pointedly at his flannel pajama bottoms. “What
makes you think I’m carrying a knife?”

“I know you,” she said, wiggling her fingers in the give-me
sign.

Grinning at his mom, he relented and fished a knife out of his
pocket. She knew him too well. You never knew when you were going to need a
knife. Flipping open the short blade, he sliced through the plastic clamshell
holding new game controllers.

“You and Annie seem to be spending a lot of time together.”

Prying open the formed plastic, he raised an eyebrow at his
mother. She smiled innocently. When she didn’t say anything else, he sighed. No
one played the silent game like Mom.

“Annie’s really easy to talk to. I like her a lot. I’m not sure
what this storm will do to the plans, but we were talking about her hanging
around for a bit after the wedding so we can get a chance to know one another
better.”