Page 11 of Montana's Bravest

One of my back-of-house staff waves at me, notifying me of a delivery.

“The Angel has landed,” I gush.

“Need help?” Lisa offers.

“Nah. I’ll be fine.”

I’m the manager at this bar, but I usually save the back-breaking chores for myself and the boys. I’ve been nicknamed the Sarah Connor of Helena for my rather muscly arms, so I can handle the weight. My girls are strong, but I’ve seen how workplace injury can ruin a life, so I limit the amount of time they deal with heavy loads. Girls in this industry tend to get inferior protection. But not here—not while I’m around.

The perfectly packed Fallen Angel bottles come through the back door, one crate at a time. My heart pounds with pride and nervousness. As I watch my delivery guy take out the last batch from the van, my cellphone rings.

Now my heart pounds for another reason. When I get a call from Grace’s daycare, I know it won’t be about my daughter winning an art challenge or having a good nap, but the news I’m hearing this time is frightening. “What do you mean, she tried to run away? She’s only five!”

Instead of giving me peace of mind about my daughter’s well-being, the daycare director has been on my case, accusing Grace of being exceptionally ill-mannered for her age and a negative influence on the other children. It feels as though my daughter is practically in detention rather than just a naughty corner.Perhaps it’s time to consider transferring Grace to another facility.

Mrs. Pryor goes on to blabber about my parenting. “She needs discipline, Ms. Winter. And I mean action, not just words.”

As Mrs. Pryor continues, a dog bark diverts my attention—it’s faint, but as if someone had just turned up the sound system, it quickly takes over my senses.

Then something pushes against the small of my back. Not prepared for anyone—or anything—to bring me down in an alley that has been part of my life for the last year, right next to my delivery van, I tumble to the ground without resistance.

A dark, big, furry creature greets me.

In the distance, a deep male voice shouts out a name.

Confusion soon turns into warmth, as I’ve never seen anyone so excited to find me. The black and tan German shepherd licks my face with zeal as I lie flat on the dirt. He has one paw up in the air as if wanting to high-five me, but in the absence of another front paw, he collapses forward.

“Oh, you!” I hug the mutt as he lands on me clumsily. I don’t even know whose dog it is.

“Jesus Christ!” A desperate voice travels along the alleyway. The dog is pinning me down, obscuring my view, but I know a man is coming fast toward me. “Maximus, let go! Let go!”

Soon, the excited furry thing named Maximus is yanked off me—uncovering my face and freeing my body.

I should get up, but an invisible force is keeping me down, stronger than the weight of the huge German shepherd. Against the sky, I see a face.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” he says, tentatively touching my shoulder. His eyes scan me from head to toe. “Did my dog hurt you?”

Someone has knotted my vocal cord.

Someone has stolen my lungs.

Staring at me—I swear on the sacred recipe of the Fallen Angel—is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Before I settled in Helena, life had taken me far and wide, and my profession has given me opportunities to meet flirt-worthy guys. But the man who’s profusely apologizing to me is a heart-melter on another level. His thick brows gracefully top a pair of round eyes with the most mesmerizing shade. They sparkle like a pair of natural gray diamonds—one of the rarest gemstones.

Despite the fact that I’m lying frozen on the ground with my mouth open—which one might mistake as a combo of panic attack and lockjaw—his gaze reassures me that he’s got everything under control. Those gray diamond eyes definitely talk, and his wide palm covering my shoulder affirms that he’ll stay no matter what.

My focus has been fixed on him, and I only just realize another man has come into the scene.

What has the Mayor of Helena done to the city that not just one, but two unworldly handsome men have decided to assemble in this alley?

The other equally perfect specimen of a man stands guard, taking over the dog. He looks a lot younger. If someone told me the two were a couple, I’d believe it. But for my sanity’s sake, I truly hope they’re not.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” Mr. Gray Diamond’s deep voice only paralyzes me more, and I struggle to sit up even with his help.

Meanwhile, the other guy walks away with Maximus.

Mr. Gray Diamond’s hand stays on my shoulder. I can trace his energy—from his palm and fingertips, shooting straight into the four chambers of my heart.

“I’m fine,” I finally manage to say something, although my lack of brain function leaves me feeling embarrassed.

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