Page 43 of Fool Me

I glance up at him, considering that. “Maybe not, but I might start playing damsel in distress more often.” To really drive the point home and see if I can make him blush, I fan myself.

His tongue wets his lips as he watches me, the setting sun making his brown hair look almost golden. “Have you heard anything about the job?” He changes the subject to something safer.

I pout playfully and lift a spoonful of ice cream, bringing it to my mouth and letting it cool me from the inside out. We should have gone to the overlook where there were other people. Being alone with Atlas, under the painted Wyoming sky, with this crackling chemistry between us, is the perfect storm for making a dumb decision. And I’m not sure my ego can take another hit like our last date when I thought he might kiss me.

“They’re supposed to be scheduling the first round of interviews today or tomorrow. Then, if I make it through that, the exam is next.”

“Do you know what they assess for?” he asks, before taking a bite of his ice cream.

God, his eyes are so intense this close, speckled with amber and gold and knowing. I glance down at Echo next to me and rub under his collar just to get a break from looking at him.“Mostly incident command protocol, safety, and leadership.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Only because I don’t trust them to make the right decision. There’s a lot of input from parties that favor your brother. I’m worried their influence is going to bleed into the decision making.”

“What about the avalanche? Don’t you think that will impact their decision?”

“I doubt it. The county didn’t run a great investigation—their bias came into play. They didn’t talk to enough witnesses. It was a huge mess. The avalanche was triggered while dad and Canyon were placing charges. Dad was leading the way, following protocol, with your brother following. Treacherous conditions that day would’ve required careful precision, all it would have taken was one sloppy misstep for the entire slope to give way.”

“Shit.” His brow crinkles in pain for me. His hand grips the side of my neck, gently kneading it.

“By the time the snow settled, and the rescue was over, the slope was obliterated, along with any indisputable physical evidence of how it started. In the end, the investigation cited multiple potential factors, including unpredictable snowpack and human error. With no surviving witnesses other than Dad and Canyon, no definitive blame could be assigned. But I’ve looked at the data. Your brother had to have stepped somewhere he shouldn’t have, or placed a charge in the wrong spot.”

“Have you shared that with Travis or the county?”

“My dad asked me not to and I couldn’t go against his wishes, not when he just wanted to move on. He doesn’t blame your brother. If anything, he feels guilty for bringing him out there.”

“They can’t just ignore his role in what happened. People could have died and not just your dad. He was out there and that has to mean something when they look at him for this job.”

“Does it?” I eye his ice cream. For a vanilla base, it looks damn good—the melting blueberry swirling with the softening bits of waffle cone. “You know how it is with Canyon. He turnson the charm and people fall at his feet. He has buddies at the county SAR team. Even if he doesn’t get the job here, they’ll find him a spot with their team.”

He sucks on his cheek like he knows I’m right. “It shouldn’t be that way. One of these days, the shit he’s pulled has to catch up with him.”

“The good doctor has a vengeful streak.”

“For you? Hell yes.” There’s an intensity to his tone that I can’t put my finger on. He hasn’t forgiven Canyon, but this fresh vitriol is sharper. He lifts a hand to cup my cheek. “I won’t let him cause you any more pain. He’s caused enough already.”

His hand drops like he only now realized what he was doing. I follow the movement as he lifts the indigo swirled ice cream to his full lips.

“Are you eyeing my ice cream?” he asks, his voice still rough with protectiveness.

“Vanilla? I would never,” I croak, my throat dry.

“From where I’m sitting, it looks like you want a taste.” My mind immediately turns the sentence into something as dirty as the sound of his raspy voice.

When he holds the spoon up between us, my eyes stick to the melting ice cream. The offering feels authentic, just like his heated gaze on my face. This thing between us is fake, born of impulse and necessity, but that doesn’t stop me from leaning in and letting the blueberry-swirled ice cream melt on tongue. It’s sweet and tart, just like the man watching me. I let my eyes drift closed while I savor it and imagine for a second if this were real. I let that feeling sink into my bones for just a minute and it’s good, right, nearly perfect.

A moan starts in my throat and when I open my eyes, Atlas’s eyes are on my lips like he can’t look away, like he wants what I want. The way he watches my tongue as it darts out to chasedown the last taste . . . it’s hot enough to melt the remaining ice cream.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

ATLAS

That fucking moan. If I have to look back at my life someday and pinpoint what made everything unravel, it would be that sweet sound cresting her vanilla-coated lips. Harlowe likes to tease me about being the good one, the responsible brother, but she’s wrong, because the things I want to do to her right now are anything but good.

Her tongue sweeps her puffy bottom lip, licking away the last of the vanilla ice cream. It’s all I can do not to push her down on this blanket and take everything I want from her. If the shuddering breath that shakes her shoulders is to be believed, she wouldn’t stop me.

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