As he hiked up the hill at a brisk pace, he could admit the anticipation was getting to him. They’d had a few more text exchanges, and she’d made him smile. Not many people could do that.

When he reached the summit, he set his hands on his hips to catch his breath. His thighs burned, and he’d sweat through his button-down, but damn, this view was something. The peaks of the granite mountains gave way to a pine forest. Beneath the treeline, patches of grazing land and a snaking river broke up the scrubby valley floor. Surrounding the lodge and cabins, he could make out clearings for the skeet and archery ranges. A dozen chairs circled the large bonfire pit.

Twilight cast a purple and orange glow over the valley, and it brought back memories of exactly this time of day in the summer when he and his friends would ride their dirt bikes, jump into ice-cold alpine lakes, and tear up the town with their skateboards.

Sadness crashed over him. He could see so clearly what his life might’ve looked like if he hadn’t gotten injured. If he’d played hockey, he would’ve stayed in touch with his friends. He’d have bought a place like this, and they’d have annual retreats there.

Man, would they love it. He could picture the four of them fly fishing with a cooler of beers and sandwiches.

Well. No sense dreaming of what might have been. He had a damn good life in New York, and when he needed a getaway, he had his cabin.

Ginty: Firing up the grill. Want hot dogs or trout?

Booker: Trout. On my way back.

Booker: Hey, why is the Wi-Fi so good out here?

Ginty: Lor’s got this place rigged for security. That includes Wi-Fi. Makes her feel safer.

Booker: Makes sense. Speaking of…is she here yet?

Ginty: She’s been back for an hour. Where did you go?

Damn. He’d missed her.That set him moving back down the hill.

Booker: Checking out the property. This place is badass.

Ginty: Sure is.

Booker: Too bad you don’t have more time. Could flip your scuba diving and massages to heli skiing, rafting, fly fishing…shit like that.

Ginty: That’s what I’m saying. Let’s have some fun.

He was right. It was only Booker who couldn’t stay.

Maybe if I push off Ontario, I could sneak in a few more days.

Of course, that meant more time with Jaime, Declan, and Cole.

A spike of anxiety had him stumbling over a tree root, but he caught himself before he toppled.

Moretime? Hell, he didn’t want to be around them at all.

And yet, how did he explain the strange pull, the stubborn sense of longing to be part of their group again?

Come on.Wasn’t that why he’d gone to Jaime’s after the funeral? To see if they could recover their childhood friendship?

It was time to get over that.

Everyone had moved on long ago.

Once he hit the bottom of the trail, he could smell the grill and see the smoke rising off the patio. His stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

It was pretty selfish of him to only think about his schedule. He hadn’t even considered that everyone had blocked off a week for this event. They might’ve lost a few days, but he could book some excursions. First, he’d talk to Lorelei—it was her place, after all. Maybe she didn’t want to host fifty people for five days.

His heart did a weird little jump when he thought of having another thing to talk to her about.What’s wrong with you?He didn’t know why he was reacting this way to a woman he’d never met, other than the fact that coming to Calamity did a number on him. He got all up in his feelings about his friends, his childhood…and his hellcat.

As he neared the house, he noticed a modern structure that didn’t fit the rest of the lodgepole design. It must have been a new addition.