Chapter Two
A spen paused at the open door of Colt’s old truck and looked down at the dusty seat. “What is up with the men in Wyoming? Don’t you ever clean out your trucks?”
Colt grunted as he slid behind the wheel. The movement stretched the seam of his tuxedo pants around his muscled thighs so much that he swore he felt a couple threads snap.
“We clean them out when necessary. Since nobody rides in my truck, it isn’t necessary.” He twisted the key in the ignition.
His unwanted passenger eased onto the seat as if she’d catch a disease from the dust settled on the leather. “If nobody rides in it, how does the seat get so dirty?”
“Oh, you know.” He backed out of the parking spot, careful not to ding any of the seven trucks that belonged to wedding guests. “Tractor parts. Greasy tools. The odd newborn calf.”
“Calf!”
He shrugged and took off down the driveway that led to the main road back to Willowbrook. “What’s your destination?”
“The airstrip.”
He turned his head to look at her. The airstrip was reserved for private planes or choppers, mainly wealthy Wyoming landowners.
“Did you give the bride and groom their honeymoon portfolio?” she asked.
Her question sent a ripple of annoyance through him, mostly directed at himself. Damn. During dinner, he’d moved it off his seat to the floor and completely forgot about it.
“Of course I did.” He wasn’t outright lying to her—the portfolio would get into his brother’s hands eventually. If he hurried, he could drop Aspen at the airstrip, hightail it back to the ranch and give it to Oaks himself.
Or he’d just call Willow and ask her to do it so he could continue with his own plans—taking a short break from society. He’d already discussed his plan to take off into the wilderness with Carson. His brother had looked at him with that concern he hated seeing in any of his siblings’ eyes, but had agreed it was a good time to take a vacation.
Colt already had a bag packed and thrown in the back seat of his truck for an easy escape after the wedding. The black duffel bounced around on the seat as they rolled to the end of the driveway.
Aspen was silent the entire ride, which couldn’t end fast enough for either of them. When he turned onto the familiar lane leading to the hangar, he shot a look toward the private jet his family owned. It sat off to the side of the runway, ready for the next Black Heart Security call.
Aspen cut a hand through the air. “I’m surprised an area like this even has an airport. I wasn’t prepared to fly into such a small place. I thought I could at least rent a car.”
“So that’s how you got stuck bumming a ride from somebody.”
Nodding, she nibbled at her bottom lip. The pout was stained a soft pink that matched the light flush in her cheeks.
“Who gave you a ride anyway?”
“A guy calling himself Big Mike.”
“Ah.”
“You know him?” Her stare drilled into him.
“Yep. Mike’s a good guy.” And thank god for it. A woman hitching a ride from a stranger could end in disaster. He’d seen it himself in other parts of the world.
When he pulled into the parking lot adjoining the hangar, he saw a small private plane through the big bay doors. He and Aspen climbed out of the truck and approached the building. He felt odd still wearing his wedding clothes. From how comfortable Aspen appeared in a dress and high heels, the woman must dress up every day.
Colt entered the metal building, casting a look at the walls. Just weeks before, a shootout had taken place here. Oaks got hit, but luckily, he was a Malone and that meant he healed quickly.
A man dressed in a navy-blue mechanic’s uniform crossed the open area to reach them. “Hey, Colt.”
“What’s up, man?” He stuck out a hand to grasp the mechanic’s.
The employee gave Aspen an appraising look. “You made it back. Your pilot was worried you got lost.”
Aspen issued an exasperated breath. “I’m more than ready to board that plane.” She turned to Colt. “Thank you for driving me. It was…nice to meet you.”
He knew when someone was only making the right noises out of politeness. She sounded far from pleased.
They all exited the hangar to allow the plane to roll out. Every aircraft that came into Willowbrook underwent several safety inspections before it took flight again.
The silver body gleamed in the fading rays of sun. No name was painted on the side, only the usual identifying numbers.
Colt moved in closer to examine the bird. He knew very little about small aircraft, but this plane cost a few million dollars. Either the travel agent had a booming business or she came from old money.
The breeze washed across the expansive field, carrying the scent of pine from the Wyoming mountains, the tang of dry grass…and a bland, oily smell?
The hatch door opened. As soon as a guy from Aspen’s flight crew lowered the steps to the ground, she took a step toward them.
Colt caught her arm.
She twisted to stare at him. “What now?”
“Stay here. Don’t get on. I need to look at something.” He jerked his head at the mechanic to follow him.
Circling the small jet, Colt dragged in a deep breath through his nostrils, trying to detect that odd, oily smell again.
Sure enough, it hit him and the mechanic at the same time.
“That’s not good.”
“Hydraulics?” Colt asked him.
He nodded. “Yup. Should have been found during the safety check. Let’s have a look.” They ducked under the wing to inspect the landing gear, the most obvious part of a plane that used hydraulics.
The mechanic ran a finger over a streak of fluid leaking down the metal. “We gave this thing a full inspection only a few hours ago. We ran through the checklist, and everything was fine. I don’t understand. But this bird’s grounded until the landing gear gets fixed.”
Colt’s gaze shifted to Aspen. She stood in the open, silhouetted by the big sky and a backdrop of mountains in the distance. The breeze caught her dress, fluttering the loose fabric, and teased her dark brown curls around her collarbones.
She wasn’t going anywhere tonight.
He was stuck finding a place for her to stay until her plane got fixed.
“I’ll break the news to her.”
The mechanic nodded, and Colt took off in long strides toward Aspen. “Bad news.”
He could almost hear the groan of irritation she didn’t voice.
She gave him a flat look. “This day’s just getting better and better. And here I thought dancing the Cupid Shuffle was the real low point. What’s the bad news?” She folded her arms, drawing his attention to her full breasts and a line of perfect cleavage.
“There’s an issue with the landing gear. You’re grounded for the time being.”
“What? How long?”
He directed his focus to the sky and judged the time by the angle of the sun over the mountains. “It’s going to be dark soon. I’d say you’re stuck here until tomorrow. If you get back in the truck, I’ll take you to the nearest motel.”
She released that small groan he knew she’d been holding back and raked her fingers through her soft hair. “I need my luggage off the plane.”
He nodded and returned to speak to the flight crew. Once they were in the truck again, her expensive bag next to his utilitarian duffel, he drove straight to town.
A small motel boasting a whole five rooms for rent lay on the outskirts. When they pulled up, he noticed that the parking lot was filled with big, expensive SUVs belonging to city folk who came every year to spend time in nature and see the autumn foliage.
This didn’t bode well. He put the truck in park. “I’ll go inside and see if there’s a room.”
“Thank you.”
Two minutes later, he exited the small motel office and strode back to the truck. As soon as he jumped in, he turned to Aspen. “Full up. No extra rooms.”
“Is there any other lodging in Willowbrook? Maybe a bed and breakfast? Rentals?”
He shook his head. “I asked the motel clerk. She said dozens of people have stopped here today looking for rooms. There’s no lodging in town to speak of, and this is the only motel for miles.”
He could take her back to the ranch, but he already knew that was a bust. Friends from out of town had already laid claim to the single guest room. Even his humble quarters in the barn had been given to a couple who’d driven in from Colorado. They were gracious enough to agree to sleep in the barn. Colt couldn’t turn them out in the cold for the travel agent.
He worked through his options and finally shook his head. “The next place to stay is about twenty minutes down the road.”
She eyeballed the small, log-sided motel. “Is it bigger than this?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have time to drive me? I know you probably have obligations after the wedding.”
“Christ, I hope not. But no, my family doesn’t expect me back. I planned on taking a weekend away. I’ll just start my vacation a little late.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I hate to be a burden.”
Up until this moment, he hoped she’d tell him to drop her back at the hangar and she’d find her own accommodations. Seeing her crestfallen expression tugged at the heartstrings he thought he’d been born without.
“I’m not leaving you here.”
She issued a low sigh, breathy and soft. “Thank you. Let’s try the next motel.”
They drove on. The next town might have a bigger hotel, but unfortunately, when they both entered the small office, the clerk informed them that a scrapbooking convention was in town.
Aspen wrapped her arms around herself, an action that he was starting to become familiar with as her way of closing up.
On the way out again, he glanced at Aspen and tried to lighten the mood. “What the hell is scrapbooking, anyway?”
“You don’t seem like you’d be interested in learning what that is.” She exhaled slowly, her narrow shoulders even more slumped since hearing that the second motel had no vacancy.
This day was dragging on and on, but Colt was no quitter. He was a goddamn Malone. And he would unload the travel agent in a safe place before taking off into the mountains.
In the truck once again, he turned to her. Darkness had fallen, casting her in blue shadows and making her white skin appear even paler.
She looked cold.
He switched on the heat to warm her up. “The next town is forty minutes away.”
She nodded. “If you’re willing to drive, I’m game.”
But forty minutes later, he found that every single room in that town was booked too. He eyed the desk clerk.
“You must have an extra cot you can put in a broom closet.”
She arched a brow at him. “Sorry, no closets.”
He scrubbed a finger between his brows, but even that didn’t smooth the pucker there.
When he returned to Aspen, she took one look at his expression and buried her face in her hands.
“You’re kidding! How is this place full too?” Her voice pitched louder with every word.
He leveled her in his gaze. “Shouldn’t you be on your phone or something? Isn’t this what you do? Find people rooms?”
She gave him a flat look. “Travel concierge . Remember? This isn’t my thing. No one comes to me saying they want to go to Buttfuck Nowhere!”
Her profanity made him choke on a laugh. He struggled for two heartbeats before he managed to swallow the outburst.
She ran her fingers through her hair, collecting herself. “I am a concierge of travel. This is not concierge. I’m baffled that people actually want to stay in any of these small towns. This area of Wyoming isn’t even a blip on the travel industry radar. It’s a black hole.”
He leaned back in his seat, body angled to face her. “How does someone become a travel concierge exactly?”
She issued a roughened sigh as though she was more exasperated with him than the entire situation she’d landed in. “I had the benefit of traveling for six months with a friend who had the resources to stay anywhere she wanted. Thanks to my friend’s social media posts, my name became well-known. That’s how I ended up starting my business.”
“Are you headed home?”
She stared out the window at the dark landscape. “No. I’m supposed to be going to Montana. I have days mapped out on my schedule to look at new destinations.”
“You’re saying that Montana is good for travelers and Wyoming is Montana’s poor cousin?”
She gave a little grunt. “Pretty much.”
He huffed out a laugh. “You must not see what I do.”
“And what is that?” She angled her body toward him too.
“What is great about this part of Wyoming? Is it that nobody wants to come here? Wait. Are you saying you already have a place to stay in Montana?”
“Yes.”
“I can get you there.”
She perked up, her eyes glittering in the darkness. “Really?”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
She shook her head as if trying to clear it of too many margaritas he’d seen her down after the Cupid Shuffle.
Then she turned to him, her eyes round with shock.
“Wait—did you just say we are going to Montana?”
* * * * *
The road stretched before them, so black that even the canopy of stars didn’t illuminate it. The headlights of Colt’s older model truck appeared dim too, barely lighting up the grass on the sides of the road or showing the odd wildlife before it leaped out in front the truck.
Aspen shifted in her seat, tossing Colt look after look.
His jaw was taut. His shoulders stiff. One hand stayed locked around the steering wheel in a death grip.
Some women loved broody men. She wasn’t one of them. And Colt Malone was definitely the broody type. She didn’t know what her type actually was—she hadn’t found it yet. She only knew it wasn’t him.
Throwing him another glance, she earned a groan from him.
“Why do you keep looking at me?”
“You seem tense.”
“So?”
“I wondered if you were tired. I can drive if you are.”
“I’m good.”
“You’ve barely spoken since we crossed the state line.”
“I’m not much of a talker. You’re welcome to talk if you want.”
She blinked at the ring of dull yellow from the headlights. Now she was on the hook. She had to come up with something to fill the dead airspace.
“I’m visiting a few different properties in Montana.”
“So you just pop in to inspect these places and then leave?”
“Oh no. I stay there. Use all the amenities. Visit the cities or towns around them to see what’s on offer there. It’s important that there is decent food and places to shop for my clients. Entertainment is sometimes important to them as well, but not always. At times, they want quiet escapes.”
“Hmph.”
The noise he made deep in his throat reminded her that he was supposed to be on vacation too, and she was keeping him from his plans.
In a rush, she babbled, “I take photos for publicity and market them on my website or put them into a portfolio.”
The word dropped like a bomb between them, obliterating any hope of ease their brief conversation might have given them.
“My attention to detail is what gains me repeat business.”
“So what is this place we’re going to? Some kind of resort?”
An excited thrill fluttered in her stomach. “Let me read the description to you.” She pulled her phone out of her designer handbag and flipped to the notes she kept on her destination.
“Nestled in the heart of the wilderness, this authentic rustic cabin offers a truly off-grid experience for its guests. Doesn’t that sound charming?”
He grunted in response.
She didn’t expect him to be impressed. Nothing seemed to impress this man.
She continued reading. “Enjoy a weathered wood exterior, vintage furnishings and a woodburning fire. The outdoor shower and stunning vista of the mountain will leave guests wanting to return again and again.” She bounced a little in her seat. “Plus it says there’s a soaker tub.”
Holding up the phone for Colt to see, she flipped through several photos, which he glanced at before returning his attention to the road.
“Rustic, you say?”
She bristled at his condescending tone. “Rustic can mean charming.”
“Or just shy of condemned.” His hard lips twitched. He actually had very nice lips, like a particular actor who did action movies.
Why was she noticing that?
She blew out a breath of exasperation through her nose. “You don’t know this business. In fact, what is your business?”
“My family has the ranch and several other businesses. I jump around where I’m needed.”
“How nice for you to be so flexible.” That was her way of saying that she wasn’t impressed by his lack of direction, but he didn’t rise to her veiled taunt.
“You’re going to this place sight unseen, based off a few grainy photos that look about twenty years old.”
“Nooo.” She dragged out the syllable to give him time to catch up, since he seemed a little dim. “The owner simply tried to enlarge the photos. They’re pixelated.”
“Or they’re trying to hide the fact it hasn’t been cleaned in a decade.”
She rolled her eyes to the dark ceiling and struggled not to rise to his taunt. “I’ll decide whether or not the property is right for my clientele. Just drive, please.”
“You got it.” His soft tone stroked against her senses, catching her off guard. She wrapped her arms around herself, and Colt tracked the move. “Cold? You can adjust the heat.”
“Maybe a little.” She reached for the dial and boosted the temperature by a couple degrees, but that didn’t stop goosebumps from breaking out on her arms.
She prided herself on being intelligent, but when he agreed to drive her to Montana, she hadn’t given much thought as to what he would do once they got there. It was late. Dawn was hours away. Did he expect to share the cabin with her?
She worried over the possibilities for the rest of the drive. When they bumped onto a pitted lane, she grabbed the handle over the window to keep from being thrown out of her seat.
“Driveway’s a little rough,” Colt remarked.
The headlights panned over the front of the cabin. Aspen’s eyes rounded as she stared at what was indeed a weathered wood exterior.
In this case, “weathered” meant that it appeared to have seen better days.
She shrugged off the tenth blip in her plans that day.
When Colt parked the truck, she climbed out carefully, careful of her high heels and recalling how she’d almost broken an ankle back at the Black Heart Ranch. The Malones’ ranch was a working ranch, and while she knew his brother Oaks had enough money to afford her services and a high-end vacation, they didn’t pour money into paving the long driveway.
This place didn’t appear to have even that level of upkeep.
“Looks rustic all right.” Colt’s drawl had her inwardly groaning.
She slammed the door. As she approached a sagging flight of steps, she noted how the roof sagged in the same shape as the wood steps. A layer of snow clung to the flat portion projecting over the front door.
She pulled up her notes in her phone again to locate the keycode for entrance. But when she looked at the door, there wasn’t an electronic keypad, only an old tumbler lock.
Colt, far too close behind her, issued a low chuckle. “Can’t get more rustic than a combination lock.”
“Stop! I’m sure it’s much better inside.”
She entered the numbers and pulled the lock free, hoping that the door could also be locked from the inside. In case it couldn’t, she took the old metal lock with her and hurried inside.
“I’ll grab the bags.” Colt turned for the truck again.
The bags. Plural. Did he intend to sleep here with her?
She slammed the door and heard a sliding noise followed by a low thump.
“What the hell is that?” She whipped the door open and stared at the huge amount of snow now covering the saggy steps.
Ugh. Colt was right about this place.
She couldn’t find a light switch and finally used the flashlight on her phone to light the interior.
Her stomach bottomed out. Just when she thought it couldn’t sink lower.
The place was a mess even in this dim lighting.
Behind her, Colt stomped his boots to dislodge the fallen snow from them before he entered the cabin behind her. One look at the inside had his hard lips twitching.
He closed the door and dropped their bags on the floor. She shuddered to think of the dirt that might be on that floor, but a second later she saw it for herself when Colt struck a match and held it to the wick of a candle.
“Rustic!”
She hoped it was light enough for him to see her glaring.
They turned at the same time toward the big, bulky black potbelly stove.
“Guess this is the woodburning stove.” He rapped it with his knuckles, creating a hollow sound. “My bet is it must be real old. 1800s at the latest.”
“You’re not helping.”
No. Nothing could help now.
Her gaze fell on the purported “soaker tub,” which appeared to be a horse watering trough next to the stove with a big metal pot to heat the water for it.
Colt hooked his thumb in his jeans pocket, silently eyeing the tub.
“Don’t say a word,” she almost pleaded. “At least there’s an outdoor shower.”
“Let’s go take a look.”
They crossed the small space to a back door that didn’t fit well in its frame. Cold wind blew in through several large cracks. Surely this outdoor shower would be just what she needed to soothe her frazzled nerves from the day. Plenty of hot spring water heated by natural gas or a propane tank on the property—
Colt shined his cell phone flashlight over a tree not three steps from the back door…and an old water hose looped over a low-hanging branch.
Oh god. The blows just keep coming.
“I’m going back inside.” Dejected and exhausted, she turned.
“I’ll grab some firewood. It’s going to be a cold night unless we get that stove going.”
She had no response. There weren’t words.
In the dim light cast by the candle, she saw the single double bed, the saggy mattress sliding off an old iron frame.
One bed. One set of blankets.
What else had the owners lied to her about with their listing?
She blew through the small kitchen and rummaged through the “stocked pantry.”
It was full of expired canned food.
They were stuck. She couldn’t ask Colt to drive to another place, not when he’d already gone so far out of his way to accommodate her.
Hungry and defeated, she turned away from the pantry and stared at the biggest hurdle in this impossible situation.
The bed they would have to share.