3. Clint
THREE
CLINT
There’s no place like home.
I was thrilled to be back in Huckleberry Creek, back in my own place. My apartment was downtown, one of three that spanned my family’s store, Ramsey Outfitters. It meant I was within walking distance of just about anything I could want, and I was right in the thick of anything going on in town. As a habitually social creature, that suited me down to the ground. Usually.
But I had a ways to go before I re-acclimated to civilian life. The well-intentioned cookout the MacAvoys had thrown had been great, but I hadn’t been able to stay. There were too many people. Too much noise. And I was so fucking tired. The few days I’d been back stateside hadn’t been sufficient to reset my body clock to this time zone. So I’d slipped away early, thinking I’d get home, hit the hay, and maybe head out to the creek for some fishing tomorrow, as I’d dreamed of doing during all those months in the desert.
I’d lasted all of twenty minutes in bed before I accepted sleep wasn’t coming. Not yet, anyway. My brain was too full of Austen and that not-so-childish greeting she’d given me when I’d gotten off the bus. The moment had felt charged. She’d obviously been embarrassed. But was that because she was stuck on the awkward or because she was thinking of me as something other than another brother? I didn’t have any answers. So I’d gotten back up, dragging on sweatpants and a T-shirt and wandering into the kitchen.
My cupboards and fridge were as bare as the day I’d moved in. Which had been deliberate. I’d emptied everything before heading off on deployment, so nothing would spoil. But I’d kinda hoped maybe my mom or sister had taken pity and picked up some basics and a freezer meal or two. I didn’t even have the other half of the huckleberry cobbler. I’d eaten that at my parents’ place, so we’d have some visit time before the party. The rest of it was in their fridge.
Maybe I could place a delivery order from Doc’s. It was only 9:30. They’d still be open.
Someone knocked on my door.
Abandoning the search for food, I went to answer. Maybe it was my brother bringing over some beer. Maybe he had snacks.
But it wasn’t Luke. It was Austen.
I certainly hadn’t been expecting her, and I registered in about a nanosecond that she was upset about something.
Before I could say anything, she held out a bag. “You left without grabbing leftovers, so Mom sent me on delivery duty.”
Automatically, I took the plastic sack. “Thanks. What’s wrong?”
Her brows arched. “What?”
“I can tell you’re upset. What’s going on?”
She opened her mouth as if to deny it, then closed it again. “Actually, yeah. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I backed up, opening the door wider so she could step inside. “I’d offer you a beer, but I haven’t actually restocked my kitchen yet, so the leftovers are much appreciated. But there’s water.”
“No, I’m fine.” Arms folded, she paced my living room. Her shoulders were rounded. Everything about her energy was off. She seemed… diminished somehow. I hated that. Her vibrance was one of the things I’d always adored about her.
When she’d made three full circuits without saying a word, I set the bag of food on the counter and stepped into her path. “Austen. Tell me.”
Her gaze fixed on an imaginary spot on my T-shirt. At least, I hoped it was imaginary. I hadn’t actually looked when I’d pulled it on.
“So, my cousin who you met tonight?”
“The one who’s getting married?”
“That’s the one. I found out tonight that apparently my ex is going to be a groomsman in her wedding. And he’s bringing his new girlfriend.”
I was aware she’d dated this guy, Trevor—what the hell kind of name was Trevor—for a while. I knew they’d broken up, but that had happened not long after I’d shipped out. She’d never volunteered any details, and I’d never asked. Mostly because I figured it was none of my business. So I knew I had to be cautious about how I handled this because I had no idea how she actually felt.
“Well, that sucks. I expect it’ll be hard to see him with somebody else.” There. That was all diplomatic and shit, right?
“No, no. It’s not that. It’s not like I still have some kind of a thing for him. Because I don’t. We weren’t right for each other, and I’m well rid of him. But I was the one who got dumped, and I don’t want to show up solo and look pathetic.”
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for her, curving my hands around her shoulders and squeezing. “You could never look pathetic.” My brain spun, trying to figure out what I could say or do to get this dejected look off her face.
A joke. I’d always been able to make her laugh. “How can I help? Do you want me to arrange for him to be conveniently ‘missing’ from the wedding? Or are you more of the make-him-regret-what-he-was-fool-enough-to-let-go school of thought?”
Her lips quirked into a half smile. Partial success that served only to pull my focus to her mouth. For about the millionth time, I wondered what that mouth would taste like. Would her lips be as soft as I imagined? Would she be as sweet?
“While I would absolutely appreciate the former, the latter would serve me better for keeping my nosy, matchmaking relatives off my back.”
I nodded. “Okay, easy. Done. When and where?”
She finally lifted her gaze to mine, blinking. “What?”
“I’ll be your date.” Wasn’t that obvious?
Her face spasmed as she tried to settle on a reaction. “I don’t want a pity date, Clint. Not even a fake pity date.”
I wanted to grind this guy into the dirt for making her feel bad about herself. “This is not a pity date. It’s a mission date. You want to make the asshole regret what he let go of? We can do that. Besides, I’m a great wedding date. I can dance.” Releasing her shoulders, I executed a few hip wiggles.
That got an actual chuckle out of her. Progress.
Humor fading, Austen stared at me. “You really wouldn’t mind being my date for this wedding?” She hesitated, color leaping into her cheeks. “I mean, it wouldn’t be a real date, but they won’t know that.”
“Of course they won’t. That would defeat the purpose. And no, I don’t mind at all. I shall be your knight in a suit. Just let me know what day my dancing shoes need to be polished.”
Her eyes brightened, and her shoulders squared, as if an enormous weight had slid off them. Damn if that didn’t make me feel like a million bucks. She told me the date.
“Got it. I’ll be ready.”
She took a half step toward me, as if to hug me, then stopped, shoving her hands into her back pockets. “Okay, great. Well, I wasn’t expecting that problem to get solved when I came over here, but I certainly appreciate it.”
“Any time.”
“I should get on. Early morning. I need to do some inventory before the shop opens tomorrow. Enjoy the leftovers.”
“I will.” I followed her to the door and watched as she made her way down the stairs.
I’d survived that fucking ambush for a reason, and damn if I wasn’t taking this as a green light from the Universe. She’d delivered me the perfect opportunity for fulfilling the pact without violating the promise I’d made to her brother. I was sure as hell going to make the most of it.