Page 11 of Just Can't Fall for the Enemy

I cleared my throat and found it surprisingly hard. “And you speak Spanish because?”

“I lived in South America for over a year, mostly Costa Rica. So, here’s what I want to know. When I asked if you’d show me around town, you looked like you wanted to say no. Why?”

He looked genuinely curious. I had to be smart about this. I’d driven off Mr. 101 Questions last night with a series of lies, and Tanner saw through all of it, far too discerning for anything but the truth. But that was the one question I couldn’t answer, not if my plan had the slightest chance of working. So I smiled sweetly. “My boss was standing right there. I didn’t know if he would go for it.”

“Interesting. The way you looked at him, it didn’t seem like you liked him much. Actually, I could have sworn you hesitated for a different reason.”

“Which is?”

“I’ve heard stories about small towns. Enough that I’ve been reluctant to visit one till now.”

A defensiveness sprang to life inside my chest, and maybe a little relief too. If Tanner Carmichael was anything like Mr. Cuff Links, I’d have no guilt at all in driving him away. “Really? Do tell.”

“I heard you folks are suspicious. Anti-progress, like those people who condemned the airplane as nothing more than a circus toy before it changed modern civilization.”

Oh no. It wason.“Small-town ‘folks’aren’t grumpy old men defending their lawns. They’re honest people trying to preserve a lifestyle they love.” I clamped my mouth shut. I needed to be subtle for this to work.

To my relief, he nodded thoughtfully. “I can believe that. It really is charming here, and so are the people I’ve met so far.” He pursed his lips as if remembering something, then seemed to decide not to mention it. “But I’ve found that people also get more superstitious in small towns. Did you hear about the huge resistance to boy wizard books in the nineties because people thought they taught witchcraft? Now look at how many of those children grew up to be voracious readers. I’m willing to bet very few of them actually became witches or wizards.”

Those had been some of my favorite books, and my first inclination was to defend them. But then I saw the playful twinkle in his eye and knew he was baiting me. “A shame,” I said. “The world could use a few more of those. Speaking of witches—the Huckleberry Creek Harvest Carnival is on Saturday, so you’ll want to find a Halloween costume for that.”

“The adults dress up too?”

“Every single one,” I lied. “That’s half the fun.”

He gave me a pained look. “You’ll be dressed up too?”

“Absolutely.” I struggled to keep a straight face.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He released a long breath. “You know, I appreciate you doing this. You could have driven me away like your little friend last night, but you’re giving me a chance. I won’t make you regret it.”

No guilt,I scolded myself. I simply nodded, unable to speak. No matter how sincere he seemed, he meant to exploit my town to further his career. I knew too much about men who showed up, took what they wanted, and then left us behind to clean up the mess. And I definitely knew how it felt to be used. No. What he intended to do was unforgivable. My plan was kinder than it needed to be under the circumstances.

“Tell me about your job,” he said. “Alice told me you spend your days in that booth. You said earlier that you liked working there. Is that true?”

I hate it.“Of course. It’s better than a desk job any day.”

“What exactly does a forest ranger do? I admit I know very little about it.”

“Most of what you’d expect. Finding tourists’ kids who get lost, protecting and maintaining the trails, fire prevention. This time of year, we usually have an elk attack or two from visitors trying to take selfies with them. They don’t realize that elk can be as heavy as a horse and punch a hole in a car door. We use paintball guns to keep them under control. It doesn’t hurt them, but it’s effective in keeping them away from humans.” I felt another twinge of resentment. I was one of the best shots in the group, yet Paul had never allowed me to help with the rogue elk. Not once. “Don’t get me started on the speeding cars. We lose several bears a year, some of which are moms leaving behind cubs we have to very carefully relocate.”

“So you act like an advocate between nature and people, essentially.”

“Basically. Although I wish we could evict the people altogether. The animals act better.”

He didn’t laugh at my joke. Instead, he studied me. “But don’t you agree it’s too beautiful to lock up and never set eyes on? People should see and enjoy it.”

“I have no problem with the rule followers seeing it. It’s the entitled ones I want to strangle on a regular basis.”

“I see. Something tells me I’m going to enjoy seeing Huckleberry Creek through your eyes this week.” He smiled—not in a judgmental way but in a truly curious way. “What’s it like growing up in a small town and never going anywhere else?”

My head snapped up. “What makes you think I’ve never traveled?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, you just seemed like the type that prefers home.”

I shifted in my seat. This conversation had taken another uncomfortable turn. “My parents were from New York City. They moved here to run a boat store nearby.”

“I can imagine they did well, then. I hear the lakes around here are postcard perfect. I haven’t seen a boat shop around though. Did they close it and retire?”

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