Page 15 of Her Wild Coast Refuge

“I wish,” Dawson says with a groan.

“Has she signed yet?”

“Not until we hand her the deal on a silver platter.”

I drum my fingers on the table. “There has to be another way.”

“You mean besides murder?”

“That’s not even funny.” I take a sip of my coffee and sigh. “Fine. Silver platter it is.”

Sunrise Outfitters isn’tyour typical small town outdoor gear depot. Maybe because this place is such a fishing and outdoor mecca, but it’s like a REI and an army surplus store all wrapped up in one. Fly fishing and salmon fishing gear takes up the left corner, hiking and mountaineering takes up the right, with footwear and camping gear in the back. In the middle is an impressive collection of wool and synthetic clothing, and in the case by the register, more choices of knives than a chef supply shop.

When we arrive, Lexie is in the fishing section, talking with a forty-something salesman dressed in a plaid shirt and dark jeans.

When we join her, Lexie breaks from her conversation. Her silver beaded earrings matches the blues in her plaid shirt.

“Morning,” she says. “You guys ready for this?”

My gut jolts. “Ready as we’ll ever be.”

Lexie’s face changes when she and Dawson lock eyes.

I realize they didn’t really meet last night. “Lexie, this is—”

“Dawson James?” Lexie blurts, her eyes wide, like she doesn’t believe what she’s seeing.

Dawson gives her a curious look. “Have we met?”

“The music festival in Three Rivers. Ohmigawd, it’s you. I was there. You played my favorite song! You signed my backstage pass!”

Dawson’s face lights up. “Hell, now I remember you.”

She puts her hand on her chest, then she laughs. “Remember how I hugged you? I was so embarrassed.”

“Aw, don’t be,” Dawson says, then seems to remember I’m standing there, clueless.

“Lexie was backstage at one of those shows on the tour.”

And I kissed her last night. Shit.“That’s crazy.”

“I’ll never forget that night.” Lexie’s dreamy eyes turn troubled. “I waited and waited for a chance to see you play again, but…you never did.”

“Yeah,” Dawson says, his smile hiding the longing that tears at him every day. “Life threw me a curveball, and I’ve had to put music aside.”

“Please tell me you still play,” she asks.

I cast Dawson a knowing glance. “Every day and sometimes in the middle of the night.”

Dawson laughs. “Guilty.”

Lexie looks between us, surprise and delight in her eyes. “Well, um…we should get started, I guess.”

“Let the games begin,” I say with a wink.

Her already flushed cheeks redden even more, and I wonder what’s going through her mind. Is she worried about kissing me now that she knows Dawson is my friend? From the way she swooned, I get the feeling she’s been harboring a crush on him. I wish there was a way to reassure her that just because I kissed her, doesn’t mean I won’t share.

Lexie scans a piece of paper she unfolds from her pocket. Her slanted handwriting has indented the paper, like she went at this project with force. Or passion.

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