Page 78 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

“You know what’s going to happen once you buy her land. She’s never going to get over it. A relationship with her is impossible.”

He echoed my relentless thoughts. “Who said I’m looking for a relationship?”

Myles leaned his head onto the headrest and hit me with an I-don’t-believe-you look. “Sure. And you brought her a burger and spent twenty minutes talking with her while she ate it, without so much as a peck. You’re hooked.”

“Are you kidding? You’re talking about a woman who’s punished me from sunup to sundown for the last three months.”

“Pigs get fat; hogs get slaughtered. Make sure you stay the pig.” Myles opened his door and got out.

I always thought that saying was dumb. Pigs get slaughtered too, in the end.

Looping an arm over the top of his open door, Myles leaned back into the car. “You’re setting both you and Angie up for a whole lot of pain.”

He closed his door and popped the trunk to retrieve our gear.

Chapter 30

Angie

Waterrushedoverarock, jutting out in the middle of the river. It amazed me how clear it could be, yet the river became murky, a deep olive-green color, when looking at it in its entirety. As if the sediments dumping into it took away its clarity.

Oh, how I could relate. Normally, I didn’t struggle with sleeping; however, the last couple of nights, I’d found myself waking up and staring at my bedroom ceiling. Debt. The farm. Papa’s illness. Family. What would Mama do when the cancer took Papa from us? Loneliness. Dan. My job. Remi. My feelings for him … All these sediments weighed on me and robbed me of direction. I wandered the meandering paths of possibilities at night.

If Remi didn’t work for CDC and I didn’t own the land they wouldn’t rest trying to buy until it was theirs, then what would our relationship look like? If he believed in marriage then maybe, just maybe, I’d be with him instead of Dan.

All the pebbles weighing me down lifted for an infinitesimal moment. Remi lifted my worries. He’d find solutions to my problems and be there to wrap his arms around me, let me cry on his chest when they couldn’t be solved. Like Papa’s cancer.

I yearned for Remi to be a possibility. But he said himself, he’d never marry. What he wanted from me was to scratch the itch he couldn’t ignore until another one came along. Tears gathered in the base of my eyes. I blinked them away.

A breeze rustled the leaves and wispy branches of the willow tree next to me. Today was the Fourth of July, and for the first time, I skipped the parade in town, which usually consisted of a shiz-ton of tractors, livestock, and classic cars. Papa didn’t feel up to going this morning, and I didn’t want to field the pitying looks or condolences given as if Papa had already died. In lieu of festivities, I’d gone out and worked the fields with Remi before dawn.

Then, at Remi’s insistence that the holiday needed celebrated, we’d changed into swimming suits and come here.

The crackling heat between us had only grown since the taste we’d had of each other. An appetizer that hadn’t fully satisfied either of us. Props to Remi, though. I’d clarified that I wanted him to stay away from me, and he’d kept his distance.

He was as good as the fourth and final hot Chris, Chris Evans. On and off-screen, Chris not only had the looks, but he also had the sensitivity and generosity to go with it. Over the course of the past few months, Remi had proven he possessed attributes of all the Chris’s.

My eyelids sagged, and I leaned my head against the rough bark of the willow tree behind me. I drifted in and out of sleep. I was in the bubble bath, ear buds in place, and sounds of nature, the rushing river, resounded in my head. Steam clouded the mirror. Strong hands rubbed the tight knots in my neck, then dipped beneath the water, following my spine to my lower back and the upper curve of my bottom. The touch of his fingertips on my shoulders replaced by his lips.

Bubbles clung to my arm as I lifted it and curved it around my husband’s neck. I angled my head back and met the dark irises, deep and rich golden-brown eyes of … Remi.

I jerked upright, fully awake.

Crab nuggets! Remi’d invaded my fantasies like a computer virus. Too bad I couldn’t shut down, reboot myself, and get rid of him. I grudgingly admitted I’d miss him. He made my life so much more complicated, yet interesting, messy, and thrilling … And, blast it; he wasn’t easy to deny.

Remi came to sit next to me on the bank of the river, wearing a green and grey swimming suit. He kept his top-half covered with a T-shirt, much to my disappointment.

No! Not disappointed. Thrilled. Couldn’t be more pleased. Ecstatic, in fact, that he wore a shirt. The more he remained covered, the easier I’d be able to regain control of my imagination.

Considering our attire, I already guessed we’d be doing something in the water, but he didn’t remove anything from his truck bed.

Which left … cliff jumping? Oh dang—I hoped not.

“What’s in store for today?” Resisting the temptation to shield myself from him, I lounged back against a rock in my one-piece, navy-blue bathing suit, grateful for the shorts covering more of my body from his view. Still, considering where my mind wandered during my brief nap, I felt naked.

“It’s a surprise. Just waiting on a couple of people, and we’ll be ready.” He bent his knees and leaned his elbows on them. Grabbing a twig, he drew designs in the dirt.

His beard, trimmed shorter with the hotter temperatures, framed his chin, tempting me to touch it—to rub my cheek on it and remind myself how it felt on my skin. That was definitely on the ‘not allowed to do with Remi’ list.

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