Page 65 of Protective Heroes

But two minutes in a room with Trevor again and I was a blithering idiot.

I sucked in a steadying breath and lifted my head to stare out the window. I’d almost expected the scenery to change. Maybe have some ominous, dark clouds rolling in.

But no, the sunshine still spilled through the trees. The landscape still had that hopeful expectancy of summer about to burst through to disrupt the lazy energy of spring.

I could feel an answering call deep down inside myself. Like something was there, just waiting to burst through the brittle ice of the carefully constructed exterior I showed to the world every day.

No. I jumped from the bed. I knew coming to Hartwood was a huge mistake, but even I couldn’t have predicted just how big.

I stomped to the closet and pulled out my large suitcase. I tossed it on the bed and flipped it open. Time for me to get the heck out of here.

I stepped over to the bureau and opened the top drawer where I’d unpacked my bras and panties, each neatly folded and placed next to its coordinating partner.

Without thought, I scooped up all of them and dumped them unceremoniously into the bottom of my suitcase. I moved to the next drawer full of socks and pajamas and repeated the process.

Just as I moved to the closet to start snatching clothing from hangers, my phone chimed. I dug it from my pocket. If it was Asha texting me. I could warn her that I was cutting this trip short. I’d tell her I didn’t think my hometown was the right place for the wedding her sister wanted, that I would keep looking. Elsewhere.

But it wasn’t Asha texting me. It was her sister Lily:

I know you probably haven’t had a chance to do much sightseeing yet, but I’m DYING to hear how it’s going. Have you planned the perfect wedding yet?

I dropped to the bed like a balloon someone had stuck a pin into. My gaze once again flew to the window. I took in the view and then the idea the scenery had inspired for the perfect, magical wedding of Lily’s dreams popped into my head.

My dreams of the happily ever after with the mountain man might be dead, but I didn’t have to kill Lily’s

Was I really going to disappoint my best friend, truly my only real friend, and her little sister? And more importantly, was I really going to allow some random guy to chase me away from doing my job?

That was the thought that got me moving. I jumped up once again and marched to my suitcase. I stared in horror at what Trevor had driven me to. My underwear, socks, and pajamas were a tangled mess in the bottom of my suitcase. I’d allowed this man to drive me to lose my self-control and almost run away with my tail between my legs.

Unacceptable. With a huff of annoyance at my own behavior, I unpacked my suitcase and made sure everything was put back into the drawers as neatly and orderly as I had last night.

I was going to create a fairytale wedding for Lily. I was not going to let my past get to me again. And now I was prepared for Trevor. If I even saw him again, and that was a big if since Mrs. Morgan said the other lodgers were leaving tomorrow. But if he did come back around I would be able to handle it the same way I always handled things—efficiently and with my cool and calm exterior intact.

Once I finished stowing the suitcase back in the closet, I picked up my phone and replied to Lily’s text: You are going to have the most magical wedding I’ve ever planned. I promise.

And with that, I grabbed a coat and keys and headed out to keep my word.

Eight hours later I was beginning to regret my hasty promise. I’d spent the entire day, with the exception of a quick stop in town for lunch, tooling around in my rental car. I must have driven down every road in Hartwood. Twice. I’d gotten out to walk around and take in the sights in a bunch of places, but as gorgeous as the scenery was, nothing quite fit the picture I had in my head.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me it had been a while since the salad I had for lunch. I was tired and still a little jet lagged and my feet were throbbing in my pretty red flats. I’d imagined looking professional when I discussed renting property and hiring wedding vendors. I hadn’t bargained for spending hours tromping over uneven ground, climbing hills to reach the edge of forests, or walking along the lakeshore in search of the perfect locations. My feet were definitely paying the price for my vanity.

With a sigh, I took one last look around the field I’d stopped to check out before heading back to the rental car. I debated stopping in town for dinner. I was pretty sure I had time until sunset. I definitely didn’t want to get caught out in the dark on the winding road back to the lodge.

I shuddered at the thought of what could be lurking in the forests in bear country at night. Add to that, the agony my feet suffered. They screamed to be released from the confines of their shoes.

I thought of the breakfast Mrs. Morgan served up this morning and my stomach responded with an even louder rumble. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sound. I gave my stomach a pat. “Mrs. Morgan’s home cooked dinner it is.”

I ignored the shot of apprehension that went through me at the possibility of running into Trevor again. Surely the fishing trip was long since over and he went back to…wherever it was he lived now.

A little while later I approached the dining room for the second time that day. As soon as I got back to my room, I’d changed into a pair of comfortable, though expensive and well-tailored jeans, a soft gray sweater with tiny flowers embroidered around the neckline and cuffs, and the best part of the whole outfit—a pair of wool house shoes with fleece lining. I’d almost wept in relief when I slipped out of the pointy-toed flats and into these. And while I probably still looked a little overdressed by Hartwood standards, I should fit in a little better in this outfit than I had this morning.

The scents wafting toward me pulled me forward until I stood on the threshold of the dining room. I allowed my gaze to do a quick inventory of the room’s occupants, but it almost seemed unnecessary. I knew the moment I stepped inside that Trevor wasn’t there. Something deep inside me that I didn’t even want to acknowledge had sensed him the moment he entered the room this morning. But that electric, hyper-awareness wasn’t here this evening.

I ignored the fact that a glimmer of disappointment flashed through me at his absence. I strode forward and offered up a smile to the men in the room. The tables were only about half full, and I took a seat in the spot I’d occupied this morning.

Mrs. Morgan came through a set of swinging doors that I assumed led to the kitchen with a large platter in her hands. She set it down on the table and I could see a heaping pile of battered and golden-fried fish.

“The men had a successful trip! We’re having the fruits of their labors for dinner.” Mrs. Morgan leaned down to me and whispered close to my ear. “I might have added a few extra fillets from my freezer to the mix, but we’ll keep that our little secret.”

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