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Haley's Mountain Man. Tracy Madison
Читать онлайн.Название Haley's Mountain Man
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472005205
Автор произведения Tracy Madison
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon Cherish
Издательство HarperCollins
“Uh, what?” Returning her attention to her friend, Haley said, “Wait a minute. Who is Matt and why does it matter if I’ll like him or not?”
“Matt is the guy we’ve been talking about. He’s one of the teachers I work with.” Suzette smiled smugly and crossed her arms over her chest. “And you just agreed to a double date.”
“No way, Suzette.” Haley shook her head to back up her words. “I’m not interested in a blind date, double or otherwise.”
“You already agreed,” Suzette said in a singsong voice. “So, tough. I swear, he’s a great guy. And since he didn’t grow up here, you can learn all about what makes him tick. That is what you said you wanted, right?”
Scowling, she pushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “It is, but you’re being unfair. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.” Unable to stop herself, Haley turned to look at Gavin again.
“Yep, but whose fault is that?”
“Mine, but you took advantage.”
“True. I’m holding you to it, though. For your own sake.” Following the direction of Haley’s gaze, she asked, “What is so interesting up there that you can’t stop staring?”
Letting the topic drop—for now—Haley asked, “Do you see that guy?”
“Mr. Mountain Man? Yeah, he’s hard to miss.”
“If you were standing in line with him, would you feel uncomfortable or … threatened?”
Suzette shrugged. “I might, if he looked at me funny. He’s a big guy and look at how he’s standing—all stiff and straight, like he’s rearing up to pounce or something. If he just stood there and ignored me, though, I wouldn’t give him a second thought. Why ask for trouble, right?”
“Exactly.”
“He has a killer body, though,” Suzette mused. “I wonder if he’s hot beneath all that hair. Do you know him?”
“Not really.” Quickly draining the rest of her tea, she stood. “I’m going to get another. Do you want anything?”
“Ah … no. I think I’m good.” Suzette glanced from Haley to Gavin and back again. “Him? You’re interested in that guy? He doesn’t look to be your type.”
Heat suffused Haley’s cheeks. “I want more tea, Suzette. That’s all. And how do you know what my type is, anyway? I don’t even know what my type is.”
Suzette regarded her silently for a few seconds before donning a bright smile. “I know that Matt is your type, and I know you’ll enjoy meeting him.”
“I’m … Oh. The hell with it. Fine, I’ll go.” Simpler to agree than to continue to argue a case she wouldn’t win. Besides which, she was allergic to cats. “One time only. End of discussion.”
“For now, but you might change your mind after meeting Matt.” Twisting her wrist to look at her watch, she made a face. “I have to run. Plans tonight and a lot to do beforehand.”
“You can’t stay for a little longer?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t. Even if I could, I’m not up to feeling like a third wheel.” Standing, Suzette gave her a quick hug. “It probably won’t be this week, because Matt’s heading home to see his family for a few days, but once I have the details set for our double date, I’ll call.”
“Yay,” Haley said with zero enthusiasm. “Can’t wait.”
“Okay, I have to run.” She gave one more question-filled glance toward Gavin before saying, “Just … ah … be careful. With your tea.”
Haley opened her mouth to argue—again—but snapped it shut. There was something to be said about protesting too much. Rather, she simply smiled and waved goodbye. Once Suzette had exited the Beanery, she expelled a breath and smoothed her shirt. Resisted the impulse to do the same with her hair, and pushed herself forward … toward the mountain man.
Just out of curiosity’s sake, she assured herself. Nothing more than that. Because Suzette had been right on the money—Gavin Daugherty was not her type. He was, in fact, the physical opposite of every man she had ever dated. Taller, bigger, gruffer.
He intrigued her, though, which was something a man hadn’t done in a long, long while. The thought was … compelling.
Almost irresistibly so.
Chapter Two
Crowds in general made Gavin Daugherty uneasy. Being around too many folks at once brought on a plethora of miserable sensations. Out of nowhere, his throat would grow scratchy and dry, his palms would sweat and even the collar of his shirt went on attack, tightening incrementally around his neck until he found a way to get the hell out of dodge.
Exactly the reasons he’d chosen midmorning to arrive at the Beanery. He’d hoped to hit the sweet spot and find the place near empty. Rather, it being a Saturday and all—a fact he should’ve considered—the coffee shop was teeming with people. When he first walked in, he’d had half a mind to turn around and try for better luck on Monday.
Truth was, though, he’d already waited too damn long. He should have been on top of this months ago. So, like it or not—and he didn’t—here he was, waiting in the slowest-moving line on earth to speak with Lola, mentally rehearsing the speech he’d spent the past several weeks preparing, and trying not to spook the lady to the front and right of him again.
Asking anyone for anything was about as far out of Gavin’s comfort range as standing in the middle of the busy coffee shop, but he had to do it. If he had any hope of his plan succeeding, he couldn’t sit back and wait for his entire lousy life to do a one-eighty without putting forth any effort. The thought had no more crossed his mind before he changed it. Much of his life had hit below the lousy line, but not all of it. Not by a long shot.
Now … well, now was fairly decent. And he couldn’t forget Russ and Elaine Demko or the gifts they’d given him, either. God, he hated thinking that both of them were gone.
Little had his scruffy, twelve-year-old self known how fortunate he was to be placed with them, or how much he would come to love them. Yep, he’d been headed down the wrong path at full speed when Russ and Elaine became his foster parents, and damn if he knew how, but they’d seen clear through his tough act and shown him what family, and being a part of one, meant.
He’d stayed with them only for a little over two years before they’d decided to move out of state. Work-related, he’d been told. They hadn’t forgotten him, though, and had kept in touch on holidays and his birthday and a letter here and there. It had hurt, sure, but he’d found some peace in knowing they cared, that they were out there somewhere, still caring.
Elaine had died several years back, from cancer. Russ just about two years ago now, from a heart attack. Or, more likely, heartbreak. And he’d gone and left Gavin some money. Not a little and not a lot, but some. Enough to buy some land. Enough to situate himself, to get started here, in Steamboat Springs, where Russ and Elaine had brought Gavin a time or two while he’d lived with them. Good days. Good memories.
He’d rather have Russ and Elaine.
Gavin stifled a sigh tinged with sadness and relief when the damn line finally moved forward by one. Lola, she liked to chat up her customers, that was for sure. Good business sense combined with a naturally friendly nature, he supposed.
Before stepping forward, he darted a glance toward the right, curious if enough space now existed for the woman to retake her place in front of him. That would be a … no. She inched herself up but maintained her hovering-to-the-side position as if her very life depended on it.
Accustomed to the behavior or not, it rankled.
His