Heatherly Bell - More Than One Night

“Okay, fine! But no more than you’ve been staring at mine.”

“I won’t deny it.”

“Let me see if I can explain this to you. Do you know those bands that have one big hit and you never hear from them again? Kind of like all they had in them was one really fantastic song. And then— poof ! That was the end of it.”

“I see where you’re going with this.”

“We’re a one-hit wonder.”

“I’m going to have to disagree with you there. What you’re forgetting is that a lot of the time those bands keep playing their music for their true fans. Great songs. Maybe no more hits because no one else hears about it. But believe me, their fans are enjoying the music.”

Her face flushed. “I can’t enjoy your...music. Not anymore.”

“If that’s how you want it.”

“That’s how it has to be.” She picked up a set of keys. “You can finish the paperwork later. Let me show you to your trailer.”

He picked up his duffel bag and followed her out the door. She led him to the section of live-in housing trailers she’d set up for the men. Unlocking the trailer, she climbed up the few steps.

“This is the biggest trailer. Might as well give it to you since you got here first. As you know, all you men have housing while we get the park ready to open. Meals included. You should have everything you need in here. If you need anything else, let me know. I’m in the office all day and even some nights.” She took a breath. “By the way, I wanted the flag to be flying when you all arrived.”

He quirked a brow. “Thanks.”

“Okay.” She moved to the door, ready to go. “You just get settled. We’ll have our first meeting tomorrow morning bright and early.”

She’d no sooner shut the door and headed down the steps than he opened it again. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you I call you? Jill? Boss? Ms. Davis? Angelina?”

“Jill is fine.”

“Jill, thanks for the job.”

And with that he shut his door.

Chapter Two

Sam Hawker might be a man of few words, and granted, he was often at a loss for them around beautiful women, but today? He had a few: dayum , for starters. Angelina’s real name was Jill; she was now his boss; and how the hell did he get so lucky?

She smiled and then she was off, those long legs walking in the direction of her office trailer.

He shut his trailer door and took another look at his surroundings. This trailer with a small kitchen, wood cabinets and table, bathroom and cot in the back was more than he needed.

When he’d been hired through Home at Last to work for a woman named Jill who needed experienced hikers and guides for her outdoor adventure company, it sounded like the perfect job for him. The organization was an employment agency but because it focused solely on hiring veterans, Sam couldn’t shake the feeling it felt like more “thanks for a job well done.” He’d had enough thanks from well-meaning civilians. But since leaving the Marine Corps, he’d had trouble holding down a job. He’d dabbled in construction, done some roofing and a little welding. Nothing steady. He’d been feeling a little self-destructive for a time, searching for the hardest physical challenge possible, to make him feel accomplished. And nothing ever seemed physically punishing enough.

Just when he’d begun to wonder if he’d ever adjust to civilian life again and lead a normal life, this job had come up through the agency. The owner and operator wanted guides to take groups of clients on challenging hikes, zip-lining, rock climbing and wakeboarding at the lake. Sounded like a paid vacation to Sam.

He’d never expected, nor could he have expected, to run into the one woman who’d managed to get him through some of the roughest times of his life, both during and after deployments. Nights when he didn’t care whether he lived or died.

She just didn’t know it, nor would she ever. But he remembered her.

Unfortunately for him, far too well for a woman who would now be his boss. He had a distinct memory of the way she tasted, sweet and juicy as a peach in September. Of the way she’d moved in a steady and pulsating rhythm with him all night, not missing a beat, as if she, too, couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t go fast enough or hard enough. She’d given him the single most erotic night of his life.

And now she was his boss.

* * *

Late that afternoon, after the rest of her employees had been checked in and filled out their paperwork, Jill took a break from permits and W-2s and occasionally staring at Sam’s butt. She drove the short distance into town to meet her two best friends, Carly and Zoey, at The Drip. A few years ago, all three of them had worked at the coffee shop together, enjoying three o’clock dance-offs and plenty of gossip. But now Zoey had taken over her aunt’s pet store. Pimp Your Pet was doing well these days, and Zoey was rarely away from the store or a pet. Right now, her large rescue, Boo, a Great Dane, sat like a horse just outside The Drip. He had the patience of a Saint Bernard.

Carly had sold her mother’s baby supplies and clothing company last year and now worked at home designing baby clothes. She was married to the walking Viagra for women, local pilot Levi Lambert. The angel currently bouncing on her knee was his baby daughter, Grace.

Jill had only stopped working the occasional shift here two months ago when all the funding had gone through for the park. She had several investors that truly believed in her vision and were counting on her to make them their next million.

No pressure.

Everyone had careers, and Jill was well on her way, to either a major success or a major disaster. Her scientist parents and big brother, Ryan, thought she was nuts. And, she had to admit, Wildfire Ridge had been a huge undertaking with a chance at an equally spectacular fail. But with her organizational skills and inability to take shit from anybody, Jill was one month away from making her dream come true.

She just hoped there would be no complications with Chris, er, Sam.

When he’d flashed her that easy grin, she had to admit she thought about their one night together. A lot. She was thinking about it so much it was hard to let another thought into her head. And if she couldn’t talk about this to her two best friends in the world, who could she talk to?

“Remember the Chris sighting three years ago in San Francisco?” Jill said.

“How could I forget?” Carly took a sugar packet away from Grace. “You talked about it for weeks.”

“That was the last Chris sighting until Levi came around,” Zoey said.

On one particularly long and boring afternoon at The Drip when they all still worked together, after their three o’clock dance off, Jill had devised a complicated scale for rating men. It was called the Chris Scale because the mean was based on all the well-known Chrises: Pratt, Evans, Pine, Hemsworth. For a man to rate high on the scale meant he’d passed the mean. This was a big deal, naturally, as the mean was already high. Not that she thought all men had to offer were their looks, far from it. But the Chris Scale was, to this date, the only way she liked doing math.

“I have a confession to make.” Jill moved the sugar packets away from Grace. Her reach was getting long.

“Oh, this should be interesting,” Carly said.

“I may have done more than simply rate this ‘Chris.’ I may have spent some time with him.”

“How much time?” Zoey narrowed her eyes.

Jill inspected her fingernails. She needed a good manicure. “Um, all night?”

Zoey slapped the table. “Dude! You said you’d never done that before. A one-night stand?”

“Well, it was just this once . I figured... I needed it. Deserved it.”