Page 116 of Burn the Wild

“It’s beautiful,” I tell Dakota. “It reminds of Paris.”

“Best compliment ever,” Dakota says. Her long black hair is curled in loose waves around her face. There’s a dusting of flour on her cheek. “Thank you.”

“When do you open?” I ask.

“Two weeks.” Dakota takes off her apron, revealing tight-fitting jeans and a silk blouse, and drapes it over the counter. “The night of the rodeo. It’s our unofficial official opening. We’ll have a booth there. Then the next day, we’re officially open.” She slides a platter of pastries our way. “Eat.”

“Right on Main Street,” Ruby says, picking at a pumpkin scone. “Nobody can miss it. It’s the perfect place.”

“It’s a dream,” Dakota agrees. “I never thought I’d have this.” Her eyes take on a faraway sheen. “Any of this.”

Dreams.

It hits me like a lightning strike.

I wantmydreams.

“If ranch work isn’t your thing,” Dakota says to me, wiggling her dark brows, “I could always use help at the bakery.”

I smile. I’m learning I might not be able to trust Gavin, but I can trust these women. I like them. Dakota always has a fresh pastry for me, and Ruby brings flowers to brighten up my chalet. It feels like I’ve been let into a glimmery circle of light.

The door swings open. Fallon walks in, duffel bag hooked over her shoulders. She’s in torn jeans, boots and a tank top tied at the midriff. Her sharp hazel eyes scour the space before landing on her sister. “You ready?”

Dakota laughs. “If you say so.”

Fallon pounds on the wall. The reverberation causes a photo to hang crooked on the wall. “Time to drink.”

Sunday afternoon and Nowhere is busier than church. Scuffed wooden floors. Dirt-cheap whiskey. Grizzled men huddled on corner barstools. If the walls and floors in Nowhere could talk, they’d have serious stories to tell.

Beef, the bartender from my dance-on-the-bar escapade, groans when he sees us. He runs a massive hand over his bald head. “You’re back.”

“I am back.” I bat my eyes at him. “I’ll behave this time.”

“I’ll vouch for her,” Ruby says.

“Shots?” Beef asks, his face softening slightly in Ruby’s presence.

“Shots,” Dakota instructs, bellying up to the bar. “I’ve been working all week. Keep them coming.”

“I’ll look at the menu, but I already know I’m getting the fries,” Fallon says, dropping onto a bar stool.

“Comin’ up.” Beef gives me a conspiratorial look. “Try not to dance on anymore bar tops.”

I lift my hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“This is it,” Dakota says as we take seats at the bar. Dakota and I are sandwiched between Ruby and Fallon. “The cure for idiot men is Nowhere.”

I arch a brow. “Why Nowhere?”

Ruby looks thrilled. “Because they realize what they have when you’re here.”

“Is that why we’re here?” I ask. “To bait Ford?”

“Howisyour broody cat daddy?” Fallon asks me.

“I wouldn’t know,” I say. “I haven’t talked to him.”

“That explains it,” Dakota says.

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