Page 30 of Next in Line
Sam does the same, furrowing his brow as though he’s deep in thought. Without a word, he strides back the way he came and disappears into the front of the house.
I close the bathroom door and press my back to it, exhaling the breath that was stuck in my lungs as I take in Sam’s cute bathroom. It has an elevated soaker tub in one corner with wide-open views of the mountains. Obviously, you don’t have to worry about curtains when you live in the wilderness.
Past the vanity, a pocket door has my curiosity piqued. I set my stuff down on the counter and walk over to slide it open. On the other side is a large bedroom. I look down and see Sam’s brown boots from last night on the floor at the foot of his bed and realize it’s not just a bedroom, but it’s Sam’s bedroom.
I take a single step inside and eye the king-size bed against the wall. It has a large barnwood headboard and a taupe duvet with fluffy white pillows scattered at the top. He even took the time to make it, albeit a bit sloppily. Natural light pours in from the large windows that wrap the corner of the room, so you feel like you’re sleeping right in the mountains. And I swear if I breathe in deeply, I can smell the faint scent of leather and Irish Spring soap. It smells just like Sam.
I walk over to the long dresser on the opposite wall and see an old photo in a frame. It’s a picture of a man, a woman, three girls, and a little boy who looks about twelve years old in this picture. The boy and the man are holding a long board with a row of fish hanging from it. I reach out to finger the old fishing lure he has sitting on the dresser beside it. I get the sinking suspicion that this is personal and I’m crossing a line so I quickly tiptoe back to the bathroom and close the pocket door.
Trying to forget about what I saw, I quickly change into my winter gear that cost me more than my textbooks did for my final semester at the University of Utah. Thankfully, I remember to keep a layer of clothes on underneath this time. I then grab my wool coat and Sorels and make my way out of the bathroom to find Sam.
He’s sitting in the big leather chair with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. His chest rises and falls in a deep, rhythmic pattern.
“Are you seriously asleep?” I blurt out, not the least bit worried about the polite way to wake him up. We’ve been zipped into a tiny hut together for hours on end, so I think manners are optional at this point.
The corners of his mouth curve up as his eyes remain closed. “I could be.”
“I got dressed really fast I thought,” I reply, tugging out the gloves in my pocket.
He peeks at me through one eye. “Faster than last time, that’s for damn sure.”
I roll my eyes as he sits up and rubs his hands over his face. “Are you nursing a hangover?” I ask, eyeing him speculatively.
He eyes me right back. “Boys get hangovers. Men get over it.”
I smile at the response and watch him stand, towering over me once again now that I’m out of my heels. He catches me looking, so I swerve my eyes around his living room. “I like your place.”
He nods, and a sense of pride casts over his face. “It’s been home for a few years now.”
“How big is the property?”
“I have almost five acres. It’s all timber, but I have room for my big shed out back that stores all my toys.”
“What kind of toys?” I ask and cringe when my mind went to someplace dirty.
“Just my quad, snowmobile, motorcycle, and pickup.”
“I knew you had a pickup.”
His brows lift. “Did you now?”
I sigh deeply. “You’re just like my brother. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner.”
Sam laughs at that. “Well, you’re nothing like your brother, so I think I get a break for not realizing who you were when we met.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, my voice rising defensively. If he doesn’t think I’m like my brother, what does he think I’m like? “Are you going to call me basic too?”
“Hell no,” Sam replies quickly, his brow furrowed seriously. “Maggie, you are like a jigsaw puzzle with a million pieces. I think it’d take me years to figure you out.”
I smile at that very specific comment, a warmth creeping through my chest that I haven’t felt in a long time. To crush the moment full of sexual tension, I quickly punch Sam in the shoulder. “Just as long as we get it all on camera for Sterling!”
Sam’s face falls, and I catch a glimpse of a wounded expression as he touches the spot I just hit. “Just don’t be so focused on the future that you miss what’s happening in the present, all right?”
He turns on his heel and walks out the door, leaving my mind reeling with his parting words.
Fish Or Cut Bait
We arrive at Peterson Farm, just east of Boulder. It’s a place I’ve been to a couple of times with my climbing buddy I met in college. We belayed each other for years until he moved to Denver with his wife. I haven’t really done much climbing since, but thankfully, it’s like riding a bike. And let’s face it, I’m here to make sure Maggie has a trustworthy belayer and doesn’t land herself in the Boulder hospital with some crazy injury that her brother would find a way to punish me for.
