Just Act Natural (Love in Sunshine #2)

1. Grant

ONE

GRANT

Only my youngest brother would call on the first day of my vacation. My phone lights up with Rhett’s name as soon as I drop into a chair at the coffee house where I’m killing a little time this morning. I haven’t been out of Texas for twenty-four hours. For someone who shuns responsibility whenever he possibly can, he’s sure pretending he doesn’t know what time off means.

“The store had better be on fire if you’re calling me already.”

“It’s almost like you don’t trust me.” He sounds way too happy. Usually, that means he’s up to something.

“I didn’t accuse you of setting the fire.” Although, with Rhett, I can never be too sure.

“Well, good news—there’s no fire. Obviously, you got to Oregon okay.”

“My plane got in late, but I’ve been awake since four.” Which explains the large coffee in front of me—the house special with thick cream and entirely too much brown sugar. It’s almost undrinkable, but with the barista right here watching while he wipes down the counter, I don’t want to just throw it away.

“You should have given yourself an extra day to adjust to the time like I said.”

“You are the paragon of good planning and responsibility in this family.” I take a heftier gulp of the sweet coffee. Normally, I’m at my best first thing in the morning, but I’m not normally running on less than five hours of sleep.

“I know my place.” Rhett might as well be preening, he sounds so chipper. “Youngest, troublemaker, best looking. The works.”

“Most humble,” I add.

“Nah, can’t infringe on your territory. Are you heading out this morning?”

“In a few more minutes.” As soon as I finish this cavity-inducing coffee, I’ll grab my duffel and meet up with the guiding company. This café is right across the street from Horizon Hikes’s green awning and their windows plastered with fliers, detailing the trips they offer. Somewhere on there is one for the easy five-day walk I’m about to go on in the nearby National Forest—the perfect start to my month off.

“Cool beans. How’s the hermit cave?”

“I’ll check in to my cabin after I get back from the hike.”

“Cabin at a lodge on the outskirts of nowhere. I’ve seen the pictures. That’s where people go to write their manifestos.”

“It’s a high-end lodge.” Not that I know much about fancy accommodations. Most of my vacations have me sleeping on a mountainside, not luxury resorts. This place has a king-sized bed, a private hot tub on the back deck, and a fluffy white robe hanging on a hook somewhere. But if I talk it up too much, Rhett might pass on my managerial responsibilities to someone else and swing into town to crash my party.

He fakes a sneeze that sounds suspiciously like hermit cave .

“Fine. It’s remote. That’s why I booked it.” A little cabin in the woods right on a river sounds just about perfect to me. My youngest brother, who would rather act like he’s fifteen instead of thirty, would never understand the impulse. “I promise to keep the manifestos to a minimum.”

“Seriously. A month off, and you go into the woods like Henry Flipping Thoreau. Your priorities are all wrong.”

“A literary reference? I’m impressed.” And may have downloaded Walden onto my e-reader in case I want a re-read while I’m in the cabin, but I won’t give my brother that much ammo.

“Your stress levels would be better served by more social interactions, not less. If you know what I mean.”

I’m surprised he doesn’t verbally add wink wink. He’s had no subtlety with his opinions ever since I announced my intention to take a month away from our family’s business. He sent me links to singles’ cruises, cities around the world with reputations for the best nightlife, and several hotels with swim-up bars.

None of that has ever appealed to me. Usually, my trips are centered around my next mountain summit, and truly, aren’t all that relaxing. Weeks of prep and planning for a grueling climb? While it’s worth it, I want something different this time.

As soon as I saw the lodge’s website and that cabin, I knew I needed to stay there. It planted a restless itch beneath my skin that feels less like escape from and more like run to , even though I’ve never been here before. But Rhett wouldn’t understand or sympathize with that kind of woo-woo explanation.

“Did you call just to roast my choices or was there something else?”

“No, just that. How’s the town? Any chance you’ll actually get out into sunny Sunshine ?”

That’s right. I’m sitting in a town called Sunshine, Oregon. It’s like visiting a town named Dry Heat, Texas. But the cloudless June day defies the state’s reputation for gloomy weather, even if the thermometer won’t break eighty.

“It’s a lot like home.” Right down to the cheery bakery and the group of older men gossiping on a park bench. The only real difference are the mountain peaks standing like sentinels in the distance. Texas has a lot fewer of those. Here, I’ve got ten mountains to choose from within a two-hour drive. If I really wanted to take a rest from climbing during my sabbatical, I probably should have found a place without so much temptation.

The word “temptation” still rattles around in my head when the very definition of it walks through the café’s doors. A dark-eyed brunette strolls across the shop toward the lucky barista, a metallic purple roller bag gliding smoothly behind her. Her smile is like staring into a solar eclipse—I’m blinded by the force of it, but I can’t stop myself from looking.

Rhett keeps talking, but I don’t hear a word. My focus is stuck on her.

“I think you know why I’m here, Troy,” she says to the barista. I can’t see her smile anymore at this angle, but it shines through her voice. It has a smoky quality that brings to mind late-night conversations, like it wouldn’t take much for her to get me to bare my soul.

He nods, giving her a friendly wink that cuts an irrational jolt of jealousy through my gut. Suddenly, I can think of a few things I might put in a manifesto—banning flirty baristas being right at the top.

“Brown sugar milk tea with tapioca pearls, coming up.”

He gets to work making something behind the counter. Meanwhile, she shimmies her enthusiasm in a way I should not be watching as avidly as I am.

“You’re an angel. You saved me from having to drive into Bend every time I get a craving for boba tea.”

He glances at her over his shoulder. “It’s catching on. We should probably offer you free drinks for giving us the great idea.”

“Don’t do it. I would put you out of business so fast.”

Her laughter skates up my spine like a hand trailing a warm caress, and I smile like an idiot.

Am I having a sugar-induced daydream? Did I make her up? It must be real—in a fantasy, I’d get to see her face the whole time.

This isn’t me. I don’t get infatuated from seeing a woman’s great smile or hearing her speak a handful of sentences. Not anymore. Yet here I am, wanting to bask in her presence for as long as I can just to store up this stretching, all-too-aware sensation aching through my chest. It’s been years since I felt anything like this, and my impulse is to hold the feeling tight and not let go.

It’s a moronic impulse, to be clear, but still undeniable.

“Are you even listening to me?” Rhett barks into the phone. “Did I lose you?”

I swivel away from my view of the gorgeous woman. Feels wrong to turn my back on her, but this ache in my chest feels wronger.

What did I say about being a moron? I’ve been aware of her existence for less than five minutes, and I’ve already lost my grasp on the English language. High schoolers who just discovered girls have more sense than I do right now.

“I’m here,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Cut out there for a second.”

“Then I’ll say it again and get right to the point—do the stupid thing.”

I freeze. Is Rhett in this café with me? Can he hear the jumble of thoughts careening through my mind?

“What stupid thing?” I say carefully .

“Any of them. All of them. I know you’ve got your whole month’s itinerary planned out down to the last hike and climb.”

He’s not entirely wrong, but this area has plenty of outdoor sports to keep me busy. “It’s more of a loose to-do list than an itinerary?—”

“Exactly.” A wrapper crinkles on the other end of the line.

“Could you wait to eat whatever that is until we’re off the phone?”

He sighs as if I asked him to give up video games for the rest of the year. “My point is, don’t keep yourself so busy you forget to relax. Don’t do the Grant thing this trip. Do the stupid thing. Have fun.”

I don’t even want to know what he thinks of as a Grant thing . Probably anything not involving an out-of-control party or a few hundred feet of bungee cord. I climb mountains, I don’t jump off them.

“You’re making me sound like an old man. I’m thirty-six, not a hundred.”

“If the loafer fits.”

“I have f?—”

“You should have stupid fun.”

My youngest brother, everybody. Champion of good sense and wise decisions.

“Is that the extent of your advice?”

“Basically.” He starts crunching on whatever energy bar he has on hand, ignoring that I don’t want to listen to him chew. “You’ve been keeping the business together forever. You keep Dean and me in line, and you make sure Mom and Dad don’t work themselves into the ground. You deserve to do something for yourself.”

“Why do you think I’m taking a sabbatical?”

“From the looks of your cabin, it’s not to have a good time. In the unlikely event you get the chance, please don’t take a woman there. It has creepy stalker vibes all over it.”

“I’m starting to think you never looked up the cabin.” The pictures on the website look nicer than Rhett’s apartment, but that’s a pretty low bar to hit.

“I filled in the blanks from how you described it. But my point remains: do—and I cannot stress this enough—the stupid thing.”

“Thank you for your wisdom. I’ll see what I can do.” Can’t really imagine what kinds of stupid things I’ll encounter on my quick hike followed by three weeks relaxing at a remote cabin, but if something comes up…who am I kidding? Taking Rhett’s advice is never a smart move.

Whatever he’s chewing muffles his laughter. “I’m only here to serve.”

“I should go check in.”

“Stupid thing! Stupid thing!”

“Goodbye, Rhett.”

He continues chanting until I thumb off the phone. If our middle brother Dean had called, he would have encouraged me to make an even more detailed itinerary for my trip. He’s a big fan of numbers, schedules, and calendars. Only Rhett would consider stupid choices something to be indulged in.

Then again, Dean has loosened up quite a bit since he met his wife. Maybe he would have joined in Rhett’s chant, after all. His wife absolutely would have. Eliza proves daily that she doesn’t believe in letting fun opportunities pass her by.

I finish the last of the too-sweet coffee, grab my bag, and stand to face the counter. My gorgeous temptation is still chatting with the barista, her back to me as she tells him about other tea drinks she’d like to see on their menu one day.

I have a sudden interest in fruit jellies and taro slushes, whatever those are .

Approaching her would absolutely count as a stupid thing. Rhett’s rash pep talk has me half-convinced to do it, but I hesitate. At most, I’m in town for a month. And she sounds like a local, but she’s also dragging rolling luggage behind her. She’s on her way somewhere, too.

Chatting up a strange woman in a strange town, knowing we’re both here temporarily? That’s never been my style. But I start leaning her way anyhow, as if my body’s ready to test out Rhett’s advice. What’s the worst that could happen?

The answer to that thought pops into my head, showering icy pellets over the warm fuzzies this woman brought out in me. There’s a good reason I haven’t dated seriously in almost five years. Ever since Kelsey burned down our relationship, I’ve kept my distance from flames.

This woman is a four-alarm fire.

I toss the empty coffee cup into the trash as I push through the café door, telling myself that by the time I’m done with this hike, I’ll have forgotten all about her.

Even if her smile is etched into my retinas.

Inside Horizon Hikes, I meet up with the owners-slash-guides, Deena and Mitchell Choi, and finish signing the waivers for the trip. They introduce me to the other hikers: two couples who are also good friends who meet up every summer for an adventure. Brian and Cindy Monroe, and Scott and Shannon Allen are celebrating turning sixty this year with our hike in the National Forest. They’re giddier than kids getting ready for summer camp.

I expected it to be a small group, but I didn’t think I’d be fifth-wheeling this trip.

“This must be a nice change for you,” Shannon says to me. She’s leaning on her hiking poles like she’s ready to head out the door and straight into the woods. “Getting to see some mountains and a break from all of that humidity in Texas.”

She fans herself as though the weather followed me here.

I can’t say she’s wrong about the humidity—we’re already in peak summer mugginess back home—but I don’t correct her about the mountains. Sure, Texas is pretty flat, but I’m an avid mountaineer and have summited peaks even taller than the ones around here. I always feel like a jerk when I point it out, though. I don’t want to be that guy who says, “Well, actually…”

“I’m looking forward to seeing a little bit of Oregon.” Even if it will only be forests and mountains, it works for me.

“After, you should head up to Portland for a night or two,” Brian tells me. “There’s a pub crawl down Mississippi Street that’ll knock you out even better than this hike.”

It’s not lost on me that a man my father’s age is suggesting I relax with a pub crawl, while my vacation plans can best be described as “hermit-friendly.”

“You don’t have to go that far,” his wife Cindy says. “We had a very good time in Bend the last time we passed through.”

“I regretted it for a week, though.” Brian taps the side of his head. “Too much craft beer.”

“What about here in Sunshine?” I ask.

Cindy’s mouth twists, giving me my answer. I guessed as much when I drove in this morning. It’s a nice little town, but it’s quiet. Probably not the best bet for anyone looking for a night out, but it’s the perfect choice for my month off the grid.

“There’s some shopping here,” she says. “And a couple of good restaurants, but I don’t think it has much in the way of nightlife. We never stay in town, though.”

“I can give you better options.” Brian’s smirk is too much like Rhett’s flurry of emails full of wilder alternatives for how I might spend my vacation. “Sunshine isn’t really the place to go if you’re looking for something unexpected.”

The door behind us chimes, and a woman says, “Is this the right place for the wilderness adventure thingy?”

Her voice dances through me like a sparkler, and I spin around slowly. Now this is unexpected.

It’s her . The woman from the coffee shop, complete with glittery purple roller bag. She’s all bright smiles and eager eyes, standing there in black leggings and a blue plaid camp shirt. My chest warms, flickering to life against my better judgment. If this is still some sugar-induced fever-dream, I don’t want to wake up.

“Lila! You’re just in time.” Deena leads her closer to our small group for quick introductions. Everyone welcomes her to the party, shaking hands all around. By the time she gets to me, I’m smiling like a dope, staring at this glorious vision like it’s the only thing my half-functioning brain is capable of doing.

“Hi.” She slips her hand into mine, and I’m done for.

Five days in the wilderness with her? Rhett’s mantra echoes in my head until it’s a deafening chorus. Do the stupid thing.

Don’t mind if I do.

Then I remember just how stupid I’ve been in the past, and my smile comes crashing down.

This could be a problem.