Page 16 of Me and Mr. Just Right

“Alaska Ridges Magazine?” she repeated, trying to soften her tone and slow her heart and somehow become a different person with significantly less baggage all at the same time. And while she was reaching for miracles—clear skies and anactuallydeserted island.

Haydn’s cheeks were tinged with pink. “It’s a magazine that features articles and photographs of Alaska. And I’m the opposite of a big deal. I’m the smallest of deals.”

“He’s won awards,” Bennett continued as if Haydn hadn’t said anything.

“Regional ones,” Haydn clarified.

“AndNature Adventure Magazineeven flew him out last month to interview him.”

Lia’s shoulders relaxed a smidge. Her stepdad lovedNature Adventure Magazine, and she knew it was filled with photographs of national forests and animals and interesting land formations, not celebrities.

“How did that go?” Jules asked, speaking for the first time in a while—and of course it was a question. The man could earn a gold in question asking.

“Oh, you know, boring subject, boring interview,” Haydn said evasively, waving his hand and going back to flipping through his camera screen, so he missed the loaded look between Bennett and Jules. What was that about?

The silence stretched while they all waited for Haydn to elaborate, but instead, he stood and headed toward the kitchen, a restlessness to him that she recognized, having felt it herself so often. “I’m hungry. Anyone else?”

Jules looked like he was about to launch into another round of questions, so Lia spoke up quickly, surprising all of them, even herself. “I am. I haven’t eaten today.” Why was she stepping in to save him? He was a photographeranda vacation interloper—like, the two worst things combined. But as he’d said, he’d practically saved her life on the plane. Or at least her sanity.

He gave her a grateful look that his brothers had to have seen as well. The lights flickered back on, and even though it wasn’t that much lighter, Lia exhaled with relief.

“I’m making lunch,” Bennett insisted, bustling after Haydn. “Don’t touch the shrimp, Haydn. I have it marinating for dinner.”

Jules shook his head but then stood and followed his brothers, much to Lia’s relief, leaving her alone. They bantered back and forth in the kitchen, and she discovered that Haydn had a reputation for not being able to cook more than hot dogs and s’mores over the fire.

She snagged her book from the night before and attempted to read, though she had a hard time focusing on the words. It was only a matter of time before one of them recognized her, right? But … maybe not. These were three Alaskan men who lived alone, part time, on an island, who read nature magazines, not tabloids. Ifanyonewasn’t going to know who she was, it might be them.

They set four places at the table with grilled cheese, tomato soup, and freshly heated cookies. Her stomach rumbled at the smell. She felt exposed leaving the huge blanket behind on the chair, like she was leaving her shield at the edge of the battlefield, but Lia really was hungry for the first time in weeks. Maybe it was the mountain air, or putting an entire country between her and Bo, but whatever the case, she realized, for the first time in weeks, she actuallywantedto eat.

She sat at the table and was relieved to find they didn’t require her for any conversation. It was relaxing, not being the center of attention and just getting to sit and listen without anyone caring what you might say next.

She made quick work of her sandwich, and Bennett slid the other half of his toward her. When she went to protest, Bennett patted his belly. “I think I’ll survive without it, but I’m not so sure you will.”

Her eyes watered, and she blinked it away rapidly. This was so silly. It was just a sandwich. Two triangles of sourdough bread with melted cheese. But no-strings-attached niceness was rare in her world. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Week after next,” Haydn said into the silence, “I’ll be in Denali again if you guys want me to grab you some jalapeño cheddar popcorn.”

Bennett threw his napkin down in mock disgust. “There he goes, throwing it in our faces that he goes on adventures for a living.”

“Photographers are insufferable,” Jules said disdainfully.

“Going to the highest peak in North America again. Ope, and now it’s glaciers,” Bennett said in an awful, posh English accent. Had she ever heard the word “ope” in an English accent? She covered her growing smile.

“Oh, and fishermen are so much better?” Haydn asked, leaning his elbows on the table and bringing him just close enough for her to breathe in his cologne. When he’d sat beside her at the table, her stomach had swooped as wildly as the plane had earlier, but her hunger had quickly taken over any attraction she’d felt for him. Now that her food was gone, though, she had all the open thoughts in the world to consider Haydn. He threw his arms out as wide as they could go, and then lowered his voice. “Caught thirty fish today! At least twice this big!”

“They are at least that big,” Bennett defended. “We’re talking halibut here.”

“But have you walked the glaciers like I have, multiple times?” Haydn asked with waggled brows.

Lia bit her bottom lip to keep from chuckling, but some movement on her part must have reminded Jules of her existence, because he turned to her abruptly.

“What do you do?” Jules asked her.

She didn’t know what expression crossed her face, but Haydn reached across the table to grab Bennett’s empty plate, blocking Jules’s intense stare. “And all jobs,” Haydn said, “are better than a lawyer who acts like house guests are on the stand.”

“True dat.” Bennett grabbed the other dishes, and they both ignored Jules’s scowl.

“We used to call him the interrogator when we were growing up,” Haydn confided in a quiet voice that was just loud enough for everyone to hear as he passed by Lia on his way to the sink. The nearness of him made goose bumps erupt on her arms.

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