Unlucky in Love Page 3

  “Me,” she mouthed, rolling her eyes. “Sorry.”

  He felt his polite smile grow wider as he pointed toward the doors that led to the tiny baggage claim area, then swung around to head down the carpeted hallway to meet her.

  Holy hell, she was gorgeous. In a lacy sweater, just-tight-enough jeans, and boots with heels, she exuded a city-girl-on-vacation vibe, but her tentative smile was somehow different from all of the usual city girls Whisper Creek seemed to attract. He hadn’t necessarily wanted to make this airport trip, but now that he’d caught sight of the ranch’s new nurse, he made a mental note to thank Kyla later.

  He reached the security exit just before Alexis did, and when she came through the revolving door, he saw her take a deep breath before turning to him with a big smile.

  “Hi. I’m…Lexi.” She stuck out her hand, and he was struck by the mixture of strength and tentativeness in her grip as he shook her hand.

  “Gunnar Steele. Official Whisper Creek welcoming committee.”

  “This is my—friend—Scarlett.” Lexi pointed to the older woman. “She’s on her way to Vegas.”

  Gunnar shook her hand. “Off to make your fortune?”

  “Nope.” Scarlett laughed, and he could hear the cigarettes she’d smoked in the undertone. “Tried that once. Made it and lost it all with one guy.”

  “That’s why they call it heartbreak city, I guess.” Gunnar smiled. “But I’m sorry.”

  “Eh.” She shrugged. “It all worked out. I found my dancin’ legs, I married a gazillionaire, and now I’m a rich widow. Things could be a lot worse.”

  Gunnar smiled, thinking Scarlett and Lexi were a study in contrasts. Where Scarlett was all big, bold energy with her wild hair and bright red lipstick, Lexi was quietly composed and a little nervous—if he was reading her right.

  “Well,” Scarlett said, pulling Lexi into a big hug, “you have a great summer, and if you meet any cowboys who can keep up with me, I’ll expect a call.”

  “Gotcha.” Lexi laughed as she hugged her back. “I’m gonna miss you, and I just met you.”

  Scarlett pulled back and primped her hair. “I have that effect on people.” She smiled fondly, then turned her attention to Gunnar. “And I’ll expect this cowboy here to take good care of my new friend. We understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gunnar made his voice serious. “I’ll do my very best.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Better than your best. No less.” As she hiked her carry-on bag to a more comfortable position, she winked at Lexi. Three seconds later, she had melted into the crowd heading for the food court, and Lexi looked shyly up at him.

  “So. You’re…wow.” Then her face flushed. “I’m sorry. I mean, I saw your picture on the website, and I thought, no way is this a real cowboy, and now here you are. Real. And…cowboy.” She shook her head, and he saw a pink flush creep up her cheeks. “Oh, God. Never mind. Please, just—just pretend I didn’t say that.”

  Gunnar smiled. He couldn’t help it. She was totally adorable in her babbling nervousness.

  “Okay, starting over.” Lexi cleared her throat. “Thank you very much for picking me up.”

  “It’s no problem. I was happy for the drive.”

  “How long is the drive?”

  “Couple of hours.” He saw her cringe but try to cover it with a smile. “Everything’s longer out here than back east. But don’t worry. You’ll forget about the distance when you see the views.” He turned to head them toward baggage claim. “Let’s go get your suitcases.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they were on the road, but Gunnar found himself having trouble keeping his eyes on the road. They kept catching on the boots on Lexi’s feet—god-awful sexy ones that were far more fitted to clubbing than actually working a ranch—and the red hair that made her look like a fantasy version of a Disney princess. And despite the fact that she’d probably arisen at dawn and had spent the entire day on planes, she smelled ridiculously good, like she’d splashed on some sort of lemon-cherry water at the airport.

  Maybe he’d take the long way home.

  Before today, he hadn’t actually been convinced they needed a nurse at Whisper Creek, but he was quickly changing his mind. When the immediate care center in town had closed, making the closest hospital a full hour away, Ma had decided they needed to hire somebody with medical experience to be right on hand at the ranch. And since she was president and C-everything-O of the family ranch, everyone else had agreed.

  Cole and Decker, her sons, were both EMTs, but more often than not, they were out on the trails with guests. She couldn’t sacrifice one of them to be an on-call medic, so she’d contacted a nursing agency to see if they could find her someone quickly. Two weeks later, that someone was sitting in his truck.

  But he shouldn’t be surprised. That’s how Ma worked. When she said jump, the rest of the world just knew to say How high?

  He smiled when he thought of the woman who treated him like a son, even though she had two perfectly good ones of her own. He’d met her when Decker had dragged him home to the ranch for dinner one night in ninth grade after Gunnar and his mother had arrived in town. She’d fed him, sized him up, and put him to work after school and on weekends. He’d done his homework on the long bus ride out to Whisper Creek, and then he’d spent the afternoons mucking stalls, tossing hay, and one day a week, riding his favorite horse—if all the chores were done.

  Yes, Ma had ruled with an iron fist even back then, but that iron had been covered with the kind of love that was soft and doughy and pure. He’d never laughed as hard as he had at their big, scarred wooden table. He’d never worked as hard as he had that spring, trying to earn his riding lessons. And he’d never loved anything like he’d loved those horses.

  When he’d come home one Sunday night to find the kitchen full of familiar boxes, and his bedroom packed into the two blue suitcases he’d carried out of so many other apartments, he’d closed the door, sat down on the terrible mattress, and cried his eyes out.

  And when he’d been looking to settle back here five years ago, Ma had been the first one he’d called. She’d offered him a job, a cabin, and an instant family.

  He wished he hadn’t been craving the last one so damn hard, but there it was. It wasn’t just the land that had called him back here.

  He cleared his throat. Enough reminiscing. He had a woman to entertain.

  “So you’re from Maine, Kyla said?”

  “I am.” Her eyes scanned left to right, like she was expecting a rogue moose or bear to suddenly appear on the highway. “And can I just say Google doesn’t do Montana justice at all?”

  Gunnar laughed as her eyes widened when they came over a rise where the spring colors were awash against the muted blues of the Crazies just west of them, and he slowed down like he always did on this stretch.

  He looked over at her. “Little different from Maine?”

  “Definitely. Wow.” She shook her head slowly. “Have you always lived here?”

  It was his turn to shake his head. “Nope. We moved around a lot. Came through for a year when I was fourteen. Came back for good five years ago.”

  “Gypsy? Or Army brat?”

  “Little bit of both, I think.” He looked out his own window, wanting to redirect before her questions got any more personal. “So what’s Maine famous for? Besides lobster?”

  Lexi smiled. “Well, the ocean, but that’s kind of obvious, I guess. There’s a lot of fishing, even more logging, millions of blueberries, and a gazillion miles of beachfront, but most of it isn’t swimmable.”

  “Too rocky?”

  She nodded. “And too cold, usually. Even in August, it’ll give you hypothermia before too long.”

  “I’ve had your lobster. There’s none better.”

  She looked over, raising her eyebrows. “You’ve been to Maine?”

  “Nope. Just had the lobster. Not sure I remember where.” Somewhere on the East Coast, sometime along, when he’d dared make a friend f
or long enough that her parents had invited him out to dinner with them one night.

  “Then you haven’t had Maine lobster.” She smiled. “Not till you’ve been at the pier when the lobster boats come in. And not till you’ve picked out the one you want and had it cooked right there on the dock.”

  “They do that?”

  “In some places. And once you’ve tasted it like that, believe me, you’ll never want it any other way again.”

  He nodded. “Good to know.”

  “So how about here? What’s Montana famous for?”

  “This,” he said, without hesitation, sweeping a hand toward the windshield. To their right, a field stretched out, tall grasses bending in the wind, colorful wildflowers polka-dotting the green of early-summer grass. To their left, rolling hills meandered toward the Crazies, still snow-capped even though it was June. With their peaks and crags, they looked almost close enough to touch.

  “It’s breathtaking. I can see why you came back. Must have been hard to leave.”

  He smiled, loving how she leaned forward toward the windshield, like she was afraid to miss anything.

  “Was.” He shrugged. “Have you ever been out west before?”

  She paused, like she was trying to remember. “Not this far, no.” Then she sat up straight, pointing to their left. “How far are the mountains from here? Feels like an optical illusion—like I could almost touch them.”

  “That’s one of my favorite things about living here.”

  Lexi smiled, nodding like she agreed. “What else do you love?”

  “Honestly? Everything.”

  For the next hour, Gunnar put on his tour-guide hat and gave Lexi the best introduction to Montana that he could summon up on short notice. It didn’t escape his notice that he waxed pretty damn poetic about the place, even though he was trying not to. Hell, he might never have gotten Big Sky country out of his head after his mother had dragged him away, but not everybody thought it was Heaven on earth like he did.

  After he’d pointed out the Crazies for the tenth time—because they looked different from every angle, thank you—he decided to lay off the tour crap and get Lexi talking instead.

  “So what’s on your Montana bucket list, Lexi?”

  “What do you mean?” She hugged her purse to her chest, her cheeks going immediately pink.

  He smiled. “I just meant—what’s on your summer adventure list? What are you hoping to do while you’re out here?”

  “Oh.” She relaxed her shoulders, and he almost laughed. Ten bucks said she had a list in that purse. “You’d probably roll your eyes if I told you.”

  “I wouldn’t. And I’m a transplant, but they let me pretend I’m a native. Maybe I can help you check off some items.”

  It couldn’t have been his imagination that her cheeks flamed even darker pink when he said that, and he bit his cheek, looking out the driver’s-side window so she wouldn’t see him smile.

  Oh, yeah. She had a list.

  Ten more bucks said she had a cowboy on that list.

  —

  She was going to kill Katie for making this list. The damn thing was buried deep in her purse, and yet just hearing the word list come out of Gunnar’s mouth made her blush like a teenager caught in a crush. Of course, the last item on the list—care of Katie—was Do a cowboy, which wasn’t helping here.

  Because this cowboy would definitely meet the height/weight/sexy-factor requirements Lexi and Katie had agreed upon after their third drink last night. He exceeded the last one by a mile, actually. Katie was never going to believe that the hottest cowboy on the Whisper Creek website was real, let alone that Lexi’s first couple of hours in Montana had her nestled in a truck cab with him.

  Okay, so maybe nestled was a strong word.

  And hello, had she already lost sight of the reason she was here? Tristan?

  She turned toward him, drinking in his profile for a long moment before she spoke. She couldn’t help it, dammit. Good God, he should be on every cowboy website.

  She cleared her throat carefully. “So was it your dad in the Army? Or your mom?”

  He glanced her way for a second, then quickly away. “Dad. We moved every year or so from the time I was five till I graduated from high school.”

  “Wow.” She looked out her window, unable to imagine packing up an entire existence once a year and moving it somewhere else. “That must have been hard.”

  He shrugged. “All I knew. I got used to it. Just learned not to get too attached to anything.”

  Or anybody, she heard loud and clear.

  “What was your favorite place, besides Montana?”

  He was silent for a long time, and she imagined him tossing his various homes through his mind, sorting the cities and towns, slotting the memories into invisible albums.

  Finally, he shook his head. “Nothing really compared to here, I guess.”

  “That’s because you never got to Maine, obviously.”

  “Obviously.” He smiled, and this time it hit his eyes.

  “So where’s your family now?”

  She saw his jaw tighten before he shook his head imperceptibly.

  “Still on the move. Yours?”

  She took in his short answers and clipped tone and bit her lip. Okay, no more family questions. Maybe it was a sore spot. She’d talk about hers, instead.

  “My family’s in Maine. All of them. I guess it’s another one of those places that’s hard to leave.”

  “And yet here you are, doing just that.”

  “Just temporarily.” Lexi shrugged slowly. “I’ll be back there by late August.”

  “Have you traveled much before?”

  “Oh, sure. Yeah.” No. Never.

  “What’s the best place you’ve ever been to?”

  “Arizona. Sedona, actually.”

  She swallowed. She’d spit out the lie like it was the truth, and she wasn’t sure she liked how easily she’d done it. Now she just prayed he wouldn’t ask any questions about the phantom trip.

  “Wow.” His eyebrows went upward as he nodded appreciatively, and Lexi smiled tentatively. Yay—ten points for Lexi 2.0, the interesting traveler chick. “Did you go on one of those Pink Jeep tours?”

  Crap. He knew Sedona. Her smile fell right off.

  “Um, no. We were moving through kind of fast. No time for tours.”

  “Really?” He shook his head. “I always felt like Sedona was the kind of place you savor. I don’t think I’d be able to rush through it.”

  Of course he wouldn’t.

  “Well, it was beautiful. Those red rocks!”

  Hey, she’d seen pictures.

  “Please tell me you didn’t skip the Oak Creek Canyon hike. That’s grounds for revoking your tourist card.”

  Lexi wracked her brain, but came up empty. She had no idea whether Katie had ever hiked the canyon, and if she lied and said she herself had, he was definitely going to ask an even more detailed question she’d be unable to answer.

  “Sorry.” She cringed. “We were on our way to the Grand Canyon. One of my sorority sisters was our tour guide, and she was one of those stand-by-the-bus-with-the-stopwatch-and-clipboard types, you know?”

  Now she had sorority sisters? She groaned internally.

  He shook his head. “You should have fired her. Sedona’s far more interesting than the Grand Canyon, in my opinion. Did you at least take the roundabout route to the canyon so you could see the volcano and ruins?”

  “Volcano? In Arizona?” Lexi sputtered the question before she could reel it back in. This lying thing really wasn’t her forte.

  “I guess that would be a no.” He laughed. “You definitely need a new tour guide for your next adventure.”

  “Agreed.”

  A little while later, they passed the sign that said they were ten miles from Carefree, and Lexi realized she had no idea where the time had gone. When he’d told her the trip would take a couple of hours, she’d groaned internally, sure there was no w
ay she’d be able to make small talk for that long, especially with this drop-dead gorgeous stranger. But the minutes had flown by as they’d talked, and except for some brief Lexi 2.0 brain cramps, she’d survived.

  Gunnar glanced at her as he pushed a button on the phone that sat in the cup holder between them. “Have to make a quick call. Sorry.”

  A perky female voice answered, “Hey, Gunnar. You almost home?”

  Oh. Drop-dead gorgeous had a girlfriend.

  “Just passed the ten-mile marker and picking up speed.”

  Gunnar looked over at Lexi as he pressed the button to hang up, and she was surprised to feel a stab of jealousy. But really? He was sexy as all hell, and worked at a ranch that probably attracted a hundred single women every summer. How would he not have a girlfriend?

  “That was Jenny,” he said. “She owns Heaven Scent, the bakery in downtown Carefree. If you have a weakness for anything sweet, she’s your girl.”

  Lexi worked up a smile. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Her dad’s a retired state trooper—the kind of guy who swore he’d die with his badge on, still defending the good citizens of Montana at age one hundred and six.” He shook his head. “But he’s got Alzheimer’s now, and Jenny had to take his keys awhile back. I think it killed her more than him.”

  “Wow. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.” He pressed a little harder on the gas pedal. “Traffic’s almost nil on Sunday afternoons out here, so when we can, we try to give him a little adrenaline rush…let him have a taste of the chase again.”

  “What are you going to do?” Lexi felt her stomach clench. How exactly did you playact with a retired state trooper who was losing his mind? “And is he still armed? Just asking?”

  Gunnar smiled. “Not unless he’s got a squirt gun.”

  “Is this one of those excursion things you add to the ranch packages? Fake cops-and-robbers water pistol shoot-out?”

  “Hey.” He tipped his head. “That’s not a bad idea. I should run it by Ma.” Then he grinned as he put both hands on the wheel. “Ready?”

  “Said Clyde to Bonnie?”

  “I’m just going for a speeding ticket. No shoot-out this week.”

  “Comforting.”