Chapter 8
DILLON
In the wake of her question, my ears are ringing. Fuck, this just keeps getting better and better.
I have zero idea what the odds are of something like this happening, but I also know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Clearly, we’ve done something to make the universe pretty goddamn happy with us lately, and I, for one, will take it.
She blinks a few times. “Some. At the club where I used to work, I did inventory and reports sometimes. I’m fast and I don’t mind repetitive work.”
Her voice carries that city tone, confident and a little defensive, like she’s learned not to let people see too much. I lean back in my chair, snapping into full interview mode even though I already know I want to keep her close.
“What club?” I ask casually, mostly to hear her talk again.
Her eyes flick to mine, the expression in them sharp for a second before she blinks it away. “Just a nightclub. Nothing special, but it was a pretty popular place. Stock moved fast and staff turnover was high.”
An answer that doesn’t give away a single scrap of information.
The deflection is smooth and practiced. I’ve seen that kind of guarded before. Boone had been that way during his divorce. Chance after Afghanistan.
She isn’t just hiding something. She’s protecting herself.
I let it slide, deciding not to call her out or press for more than she’s willing to give. “We mostly just need someone to clean up files, log reports, and keep us from drowning in admin. The pay is decent and the hours are flexible.”
“Wow.” She gives me a small, relieved smile. “That sounds kind of perfect.”
Well, that’s good enough for me.
“Congrats,” I say without even looking at the others. “You’re hired.”
Her mouth falls open. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Her smile is small and tentative, but it reaches her eyes, and damn if that doesn’t light something in my chest I haven’t felt in a long time. “When do I start?”
“Is tomorrow too soon?” Boone asks, raking a hand through his hair as he looks at her.
Those stormy eyes are so intent that, for a beat, I’m worried he might be too intense for her, but she shakes her head and even flashes him another smile.
“It’s right on time, actually. I was hoping to find a job before the end of the month.
I never would’ve guessed that I’d find one before I even unpacked.
Just, uh, you’re not playing with me, right?
This is a real job that you actually need someone to do? ”
“It’s a real job.” Chance pulls his phone out of his pocket, brings up the contract he’d been drafting, and hands the device over. “You can check the document. It was created almost two months ago.”
As she scrolls, skimming the contents, I see the moment she came across the clause detailing her salary. Her eyes widen a little, and Boone must’ve noticed it too, because he explains.
“We value our privacy and, in our business, discretion is key. You’re going to be working with sensitive information. Nothing too crazy, but you’ll have a fair amount of access to us, our business practices, and our servers. We’re willing to pay for loyalty.”
“I can see that.” She finally passes the phone back to Chance, looking at us a little differently now, like maybe she’s starting to understand that we’re not just three weirdos running around the woods, waiting for any trace of smoke to race to the rescue of damsels in distress.
“I guess you really do have a lot of windows, huh?”
I chuckle. “It’s hard to miss anything that happens in the valley when you’ve pretty much got a 270-degree view.”
“Fair enough.” More tension eases from her shoulders, and she relaxes a little as she asks us questions about the company and life in Silver Ridge while we eat.
We tell her everything she wants to know, then she ends up on the porch with us for our nightly drink, even kicking her sneakers up next to our boots. As always, the propane heaters hum and the night stretches quiet around us.
Roxie sits bundled in a blanket, cradling a beer between her palms. Chance leans against the railing beside her, talking about the local wildlife. Bears. Coyotes. Basically, the Montana starter pack of don’t go out alone at night.
Boone just listens, that unreadable expression of his giving nothing away. I watch her, noticing how easily she laughs with Chance, teases Boone about being too serious, and even asks me about coding like she actually cares.
It’s obvious that she’s smart, effortlessly reading the room before she speaks. She also doesn’t fawn or flirt to fill the silence.
Honestly, it’s almost eerie how well she fits. Maybe a woman really had just fallen right into our laps and maybe this time, she’s the one who would finally understand what we have going on, and actually want it.
“Do you really expect me to believe that you wrestled a bear?” She gives Chance a look that says there’s no way she’s falling for it. “I might be new around here, but even I know that’s not possible.”
“I didn’t wrestle him.” Chance’s lips curve into a slight smirk. “Although, that does sound better than what really happened. I just had a stare-off with him. Luckily, one of the rangers was with us and he managed to scare it off.”
“And all of this really happened over at the Morrison cabin?” she asks, her eyes wide. “Like, between the truck and the front freaking door?”
Boone cuts in before Chance scares her into staying with us permanently.
“It was out back. In the woods. Some trees fell over in a storm, and we went to help clear them. Again, it’s in our interest to make sure the area around that property is well-maintained.
And because there’s never been anyone there until you arrived, it’s been up to us to keep an eye on it. ”
She nods, stifling a yawn as she burrows deeper into the blankets. “It’s a whole different world out here, isn’t it?”
“Depends where you’re from,” I reply. “Over the years, we’ve run into some folks from Oregon and a few other places who don’t think it’s too different. I suppose you’re not from any of those places, then?”
“No,” she says quickly, but doesn’t’ elaborate. “I’ve only ever lived in the city. No bears or coyotes for miles except maybe at the zoo.”
I bite my tongue to keep from asking which city, glancing at Chance and sensing that he’s wondering the same thing. Boone sighs, but he doesn’t take the bait either. We’re all aware that people were entitled to their privacy, especially all the way out here.
“No zoo here,” Boone says finally. “Unless you count Dillon. He should definitely be in a cage.”
I laugh and shrug when she glances at me. “They’re just jealous because I’m the one who keeps things fun.”
“Speaking of fun, what—” The question cuts off when she stifles another yawn and gives her head a quick shake. “Sorry. I was about to ask what there is to do around here.”
“All sorts of outdoorsy stuff,” Chance replies, gently scratching the side of his neck as he thinks it over. “Hiking. Fishing. Amazing winter sports if you’re into that kind of thing. There’s also a bar in town, but I think the closest movie theater is probably in Bozeman.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “That’s over a hundred miles away.”
“Welcome to Montana,” I joke. “If you wanted to go to the movies, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
“Darn it,” she says, snapping her fingers with amusement lighting her eyes. “Why didn’t they put that in the brochure?”
“We’ll have to speak to the tourism board,” Chance replies solemnly. “Get them to clear it up right away.”
She chuckles, but when she emits her third yawn, I realize it’s time to pack it in. As much as I’m enjoying this, the mountain air always hits newcomers hard. City lungs and the thinner oxygen, all that good stuff out here, don’t always play well with newbies.
“How about we call it a night?” I drain my beer before I stand up. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
She hesitates for half a second before nodding. “Thanks. I guess I’m a lot more beat than I thought I was.”
“Goodnight, Roxie.” Chance tips his beer toward her. “Remember what I said about closing both eyes.”
Boone frowns at him but then manages a rare smile when he looks at her. “Key’s in the door if you want to lock it.”
She returns his smile. “Thanks. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he mutters, eyes already fluttering shut as he leans back in his chair and adjusts his boots on the railing.
I sweep a hand out ahead of me, and Roxie goes one step ahead as we climb the stairs.
I can’t even try to deny that I stare at her ass all the way up, the way it curves into her shapely thighs.
For such a petite girl, five-and-a-bit feet at most, she has more curves than the road leading up to our house.
By the time we reach the guestroom, I nearly groaned out loud at least a dozen times and I was half hard. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
Boone and Chance are to blame for this, them and their stupid rule about not bringing women home anymore unless they were the one. It’s left me balancing on a knife’s edge, and my balance has never been great.
Roxie turns to face me at her door, a lock of dark hair falling across her ear in a way that makes me itch to push it back, but I keep my hands firmly in the pockets of my jeans. “Thanks for walking me up.”
“No problem,” I say. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you almost burned down the cabin.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met you.”
Her answering laugh is soft and tired, completely unfair to my heart rate. Before I can talk myself out of it, I lean in, brace one hand on the doorframe, and kiss her. It wasn’t deep. Just a test.
Warm lips, a breath caught between us, the faintest taste of beer and adrenaline. She doesn’t push me away. When I pull back, she just looks up at me like she’s not sure what to do next.
“Goodnight, Roxie,” I murmur, eyes locked on hers.
A shadow of a smile crosses her lips. “Goodnight, Dillon.”
I walk away before I can do something stupid, like kiss her again. Downstairs, Boone is waiting in the hallway with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “You kissed her.”
I shrug. “Maybe. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Only if you’re thinking that she’s trouble,” he answers flatly.
“No doubt, but also that maybe we should consider her for the role.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “What role?”
“You know damn well which role.”
Before Boone can answer, Chance steps out of the den with a towel slung around his neck, like he’s already on his way back to the damn gym. “We need to take it slow. The last thing we want is to scare her off. She’s skittish already.”
I smirk and lean against the banister. “You didn’t see the way she looked at me.”
Chance gives me that Marine stare-down. “You didn’t see the way she looked at the door, like she’s ready to bolt if anyone breathes wrong.”
Boone rubs a hand over his jaw, his eyes dark and contemplative. “He’s right. We move slowly and take our cues from her. That’s the only way this works. If it’s got any shot of working at all.”