Robyn Carr - Hidden Summit

“In the middle…?” She frowned. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“You know,” he said, giving a shrug. “Your…relationship.”

“What relationship? I’m single.”

His brow furrowed. “Right,” he said.

She continued to frown; her eyes had narrowed. “What relationship?” she demanded.

“Well…I… Looked like maybe you and the boss…” That was as much as he got out. “It’s none of my business.” And he thought, I’ll be dead in a month, as terrible as I am at lying, at covering up.

She was still frowning. The blond guy behind the coffee bar put Conner’s coffee and pie on the counter. “Grab your coffee and come with me,” she said. And allowing for no discussion or refusal, she turned and walked away, expecting him to follow.

“Crap,” he muttered. Then he let out a breath and did as she said. She sat down on a little bitty couch with spindly legs, and opposite was a chair with equally skinny, curvy legs. He looked down at her, pie in one hand and coffee in the other. “I don’t know, Leslie. I don’t think I should sit on that.”

“It’s stronger than it looks. Sit,” she commanded. And he did so. “Paul is an old friend,” she said. “I worked for his family in Oregon for ten years. I was trying to relocate but didn’t have a new job, and he offered me one here. There is nothing the least bit inappropriate between us.”

“Okay. Like I said, none of my business anyway,” he said, standing to escape.

“Sit.”

He did as she told him.

“Why would you assume something like that about me?”

“I…” He made a face. “The first night I was in town, I was at that little bar and you and Paul… Well, I didn’t know who either of you were, but he had his arm around you. Kissed you. It looked like maybe you were crying or something. You had a drink and left together. Like a couple.”

She was quiet for a moment, her lips pursed. “What nerve,” she said.

“Hey, you don’t owe me an explanation. It’s nothing to me.”

“Listen to me. Carefully. I was married while I worked for Haggerty Construction in Grants Pass. My husband and I divorced and he moved on very quickly. Actually, he moved on before we were divorced. He remarried right away, got his new wife pregnant. He’s going to be a father. And me? Why of course I get to be friends with the charming couple. He would probably even like me to be the baby’s godmother. I would have gone to hell to get out of there. This job was a lifesaver. Paul was a lifesaver. I might’ve been emotional about that.”

Conner was quiet for a long moment, and then, inexplicably, he smiled. “Seriously?”

“Which part?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“He wanted you to be friends with his new wife?”

“Yes. And be so happy for them.”

“Wow,” he said, still smiling. “What balls.”

She cleared her throat. “Yeah. Well. He was so fucking civil even my parents thought I should just get over it. Sorry—I don’t usually use that word.”

“Sounds kind of apropos where the ex is concerned.”

“You have no idea. I couldn’t get away from them in that town. Paul was very sweet to help me out. I can’t remember crying or getting kissed in Jack’s Bar, but—”

“It looked kind of…cozy. Like maybe he was the boyfriend and the two of you were having some kind of…misunderstanding. And you have such a close— I guess I don’t have much of an imagination, I could only think of one possibility.”

“It’s a very rude and unflattering assumption to make about a woman. The last thing I would ever do is get involved with a married man.”

“Hey, I apologize. I’m really sorry about what you’re going through, but it makes a lot more sense that I’d think you were a couple than that the boss is comforting you because your ex…” He chuckled and rubbed a hand over his goatee. “Wants to be friends, does he? Wow. And I take it you don’t feel like being friends?”

She glared at him. Her eyes were mere slits. “I feel like killing him, but the hell of it is, I’d probably grieve him. And pay for his funeral. I used to love him. And now I completely hate him, but not enough.”

“Shew,” Conner said. “I get that.”

“You do?”

“I’m divorced. I didn’t like it too much, either,” he said. “And we’re never going to be friends.” And Leslie’s anger at the very idea that she would mess with a married man—this was going to make fighting the attraction a lot tougher.

“I’m thirty-two,” she said. “People tell me how young I am, but I’ve had a little trouble with passing thirty, ending an eight-year marriage, feeling like I’m starting my life over at this age. I didn’t mind starting my life at twenty-two, but at thirty-two? Not so happy about it. And I highly resent the circumstances. To be frank, I’m not real happy that you pegged me as a cheater. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to jump to conclusions?”

“Didn’t I apologize?” he asked. “I might be a little cynical. I’m thirty-five and I’m not real happy about starting over, either. Job gone, divorced, relocated, et cetera.”

“With how many of the guys at work did you share your speculation about Paul and me?” she asked.

“No one. I don’t gossip,” he said, his heavy brows drawing together in a frown. “Look, I don’t blame you for being offended, but could you lighten up? I didn’t mean to—”

They both turned to look as someone cleared his throat. The blond barista behind the counter was glaring at them. “I like to close by six,” he said. “Do you suppose you could take the argument to Starbucks?”

As Leslie and Conner left the coffee shop, he asked, “All right, are we straight now? You accept my apology?”

“Probably. But I admit, it bothers me. It makes me wonder how many other people assume there’s more to my relationship with Paul Haggerty than a very long-term, very proper friendship.”

“Listen, I’m a little cynical,” Conner said. “Sometimes it’s not easy.”

“Get over it,” she said, opening her car door.

“I’ll work on that. And I’ll be behind you on the way back up the mountain. Not too close, but close enough to make sure you get back to town all right.”

“I don’t need an escort,” she said.

“I’m sure you’re extremely capable, but I happen to live there.” And he closed her door after she was seated. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Hardheaded enough?”

Leslie drove back to Virgin River with Conner’s lights behind her at a respectable distance.

For Leslie, it had been over eighteen months since she’d even entertained the notion of a man in her life. She’d been grieving and damning Greg Adams, the happy-go-lucky ex, all that time. She’d been void of desire. In fact she had made up her mind that it would be a very long time before she’d let a man get close, if ever, because only a fool wouldn’t be afraid to trust a man again. It would risk a broken heart. The very idea that someone thought she’d settle for a married man bit deep.

The kind of guy in her very distant future had not resembled Paul Haggerty in any way; Paul was more like a brother to her. Now Conner Danson… That was another story. If he wasn’t such an ass, he would be irresistible.

This surprised her. Conner was nothing like the kind of man who had attracted her before. He was nothing like Greg, which should have probably recommended him, except for that ass thing. There was also the fact that Leslie was determined to paste her confidence back together without the assistance of a man.

Greg had been, still was, movie-star pretty with dark hair, beautiful hazel eyes flecked with gold, a trim build with strong shoulders and arms and a smile that made girls tremble. He was fussy about what he wore and drove, and his two primary goals in life were to be rich and prominent. Leslie suspected his new lawyer wife had tipped him on how to rat-hole some money because he still looked pretty well-off despite escaping alimony, and while they’d been married, he’d always brought home enough money to afford all the things he wanted.