Page 77 of Never In My Wildest Dreams

“You sure?”

Noa rolled her eyes and continued the game.

Oh, well. She’d just have to catch up with Booker later.

ChapterSixteen

Sunlight filteredthrough the pines bracketing the highway, and, with the windows open, Booker breathed in the fresh mountain air.

It felt good to be back in Calamity. It always did. Which, of course, was why he’d bought a cabin here.

He got a flash of Hellcat’s smile, bright blue eyes, and hair tousled from the fucking he was giving her. Her laughter struck a chord inside him that reverberated to this day.

Yeah, he thought about her a lot, but the memories came roaring back when he visited Calamity. Damn, he’d had a good time with her. Nothing like it before or after.

He couldn’t get over the fact that she never got his note. By the time he’d figured it out, she was long gone, and there’d been no way to track her down.

He’d hurt her. And it ground through him. He wished he could make it right.

Had she gotten back with Beau? He didn’t know the whole story, but the fucker had betrayed her, so he hoped like hell she hadn’t. Where had she wound up? Every time he visited Calamity, he found himself looking for her face in the crowd.

Stupid. Why would she stay? She had to be long gone.

This stretch of 191 from the airport to Lorelei’s Paintbrush Ranch had no traffic. There were no shops, no gas stations. Nothing.

This woman wants to be left the hell alone.

If he continued on a little ways, he’d hit the Gentry Mining Corp. And beyond that, Yellowstone National Park. But this stretch was all national park. Every now and then, he’d catch a flash of Calamity Lake through the trees.

His GPS had him turning off the highway and onto a narrow, dusty lane. He drove a mile through the woods before he hit a massive gate. There were cameras everywhere and no code for this place, so he texted Ginty. A moment later, the steel blockade parted for him.

He drove another half-mile until the woods gave way to a magnificent, green valley. He hit the brake at the rise in the road just to take it in. Sunlight turned the river molten silver as it snaked across the canyon floor and glinted off the copper gutters of the lodge.

From this perspective, he had a good view of the property’s layout. Front and center, facing the river, the stone and timber lodge stood two stories with a wraparound porch. Behind it were the outbuildings that included a large garage for ranch equipment, dormitory-style housing, a corral and stables, and then a cluster of twelve cabins tucked into the woods.

In the distance, a tractor kicked up dust. Goats tussled in a pen, and horses grazed and flicked their tails on a grassy knoll. Damn, it was a nice spread. He liked his cabin, but this place… He’d love to own a place like this. If he still had friends here, they’d fish, ride their ATVs, and smoke cigars around the firepit.

But he didn’t have friends, and it was time to get going. The sooner he pulled off this wedding, the sooner he could get to Ontario and find out what was going on with the Marchaud family. He parked in front of the lodge, grabbed his suitcase, and headed up the stone walkway.

“You made it.” Ginty pushed out the screen door and greeted him.

“This place is huge. Tell me she lives here with her roadies, band, producers, and everyone she’s ever known.”

Ginty laughed. “Nope. None of that.”

Padded rockers lined the long, wide porch, and colorful flower baskets dangled between the thick spruce fir posts. He filled his lungs with pine-scented air and took in the sound of rushing water.

Everything about this place screamedhome.

He dropped the handle of his suitcase and gave Ginty a hug. “Sorry those fuckers stole your wedding.”

“Yeah, it sucks.” After his client gave him a few hearty slaps on the back, he pulled away. “But I can’t thank you enough for what you and Lor are doing.”

“Of course.” He reached for the handle. “We got this.”

“Come in.” Ginty ushered him inside the house. “Let me show you your room.”

“You get in touch with everyone yet?”

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