Page 32 of Fool Me

Neither is he. I bite my lip, taking him in. He looks bigger in the small space of my living room, but what strikes me even more is how comfortable he looks here, like he might just make himself at home on my couch and never leave.

Putting his back to the wall, he steps toward me, brown eyes soft as he almost whispers, “I promise not to call you cute, but you get prettier every time I see you.” It’s almost like he didn’t plan to say the second half aloud.

I duck my head, grabbing my purse off the table by the door. “We’re going to be late for our reservation if we just stand here and compliment each other all night.”

He holds the door for me as I slip out in front of him. I can feel his eyes on me and when I turn to lock up, he’s right there, so close that the breeze from the river wraps me up in the scent of sandalwood.

“I don’t remember you complimenting me.” His voice scrapes over my skin.

“Didn’t I? Must have just thought it in my head.”

One good thing about being tall, it’s easier to escape with quick, long strides when I’m thinking about doing something stupid, like pushing him back through my door and kissing him on my couch.

His deep laughter stalks after me as I follow the path to his truck.

“Tell me about your training today.” Atlas lifts his bourbon, taking a sip. For a moment, I’m too entranced by the bob of his throat to form a coherent thought. “It was ropes training, right?”

“Yeah. We see a lot of falls this time of year. Hikers and tourists get distracted by the sights and end up losing their footing. With all the steep terrain and exposed cliffs on the heavily trafficked trails, we need to be prepared.”

“Did you get to climb?” he asks.

“Yeah. We did simulated rescues, so I got to rappel and stabilize a rescue dummy before evacuating them. It’s mostly refreshing our skills—creating anchors and belay systems. You never know what you’re going to get with wilderness rescues, so we run through a lot of scenarios. Travis had me be the incident commander for one of them.”

Atlas sits across from me, looking stunned, and when I stop talking, I realize my cheeks ache from the grin I’m wearing.

“What?”

“It’s just . . . you’re like a real-life badass.”

“Says the man that saves animals for a living.”

“From the safety of my clinic, in a controlled environment. You’re out there in the elements where anything can happen—it’s just really fucking impressive.You’rereally impressive.”

Not intimidating, but impressive. I like that he’s energized by it instead of put off by it. Even when I was a nurse, so many men thought it was just too much—Istarted to feel like toomuch. Maybe that’s why I gravitated to Canyon—he was too self-involved to care.

“You know it’s not a contest. We can both be badasses,” I say, forcing his brother out of my mind. And at least, for a while, we can be badasses together.

“Maybe that’s true, but I think I’m a little in awe of you.”

The feeling is mutual. After my history, even a fake boyfriend who takes a genuine interest in the things that are important to me feels refreshing.

The bar is on the fucking floor, ladies and gentleman.

“Any interesting aliments in the clinic today?”

“Not unless you count Betty White coming for a visit because Marilyn thought her feathers were too dull.” His eyes sparkle with mirth.

“Oh, yeah? What was she yelling this time?”

“Did everyone but me know about this bird’s penchant for dirty talk?”

“Marilyn listens to her audiobooks on full blast. I pulled up next to her at the stop sign once and I could hear every line, verbatim.” Right down to the description of a character’s“quivering member.”

“That explains things.” There’s a gleam in his eye, like I just let him in on a secret he’s been dying to know.

We go back and forth, asking each other questions and getting to know one another until the waiter comes. Atlas lets me order first.

“I’ll take the blue cheese medallions,” I tell the server, taking a second to explain my allergy.

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