Page 13 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

It could be fun, if you just let yourself go.

But she couldn’t listen to that inner voice. If she let herself go, let down her barriers and boundaries for even one second, she could end up right back where she’d started—a foolish girl who had ignored all the danger signs.

Which was why her attraction to Everett Silverton was so unsettling. Seeing him yesterday on the trail had been a surprise, and her mind immediately had gone to the dark side, especially when she’d seen his gun. She’d been so caught up in the legend of a small-town hero that she’d started to soften, to enjoy his easy smiles and even his self-deprecating humor.

It was a dangerous thing to be lonely. It made you crave normalcy, someone to go out with and enjoy. Someone who might just chase the shadows and evil away.

Callie knew better, though. Especially with a guy who was already dealing with his own past. She’d heard too many news stories about good people who’d snapped. You never knew what someone else was capable of, no matter how long or how well you might think you knew him. She just had to keep reminding herself of that and to stay the hell away from Everett.

EVERETT POURED MORE coffee into his mug, trying to wake up, despite the fact that it was three in the afternoon. He had slept for maybe four hours the night before, and those hours had been restless—and intense. It was always like that when he dreamed of Robbie.

This dream had been different, though. In it, they had been sitting at his kitchen table, shooting the shit.

“So who’s this girl you’re obsessed with?”

He could have sworn it was really Robbie’s voice. And as they’d gone back and forth, razzing one another, it actually had taken Everett longer than usual to realize he was in a dream. And like a hundred times before, he’d apologized to Robbie for not being able to save him.

“Bygones, man. I know you tried. Besides, no one else thought twice about saving his own ass before mine. Just you. Only why are you wasting your life bottled up like some fucking hermit? You got to live, so get your ass out there and do something.”

But before Everett could respond, Robbie had burst into flames and disappeared. Which was fucked up, until Everett himself had started to catch fire and had woken up in a panic. Eight years had passed, but the excruciating pain of his flesh melting was something he’d never been able to leave behind.

He’d managed to get out of bed to shake the dream, but the lack of sleep was hitting him hard now. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a little nap, especially with how bad the weather was outside. He’d been taking calls since seven and really had no reason to go out anyway.

His cell phone started blaring, and he slid his thumb across the screen to accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Everett, it’s Gemma Bowers. I was just calling to let you know that your books came in. And I gotta tell you, you have the most eclectic taste of any man I’ve ever met.”

“You tell me that every time I order.” He’d been frequenting Chloe’s Book Nook since getting back into town and loved ordering a variety of genres. He’d always enjoyed books, but it wasn’t until he was deployed that he’d begun realizing their true value. He’d needed the distraction from the horrors he was witnessing, and now, books helped ease his loneliness.

Somewhat.

“Only because I admire the hell out of you for not just sticking to typical guy novels.”

“Well, thanks. I’ll come pick them up.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

So much for not going anywhere.

He wanted those books, though. He’d reread everything on his shelf and had been meaning to go to the library, but Mrs. Nelson, the librarian, loved to talk his ear off. Sometimes an hour would go by before he could get out of there. At least Gemma was friendly, without jawing away at him all afternoon.

Grabbing his keys and jacket, he pulled his hood up over his head. The rain pounded down on him as he ran from his front door to his truck. Everett shook like a dog as he climbed inside. He didn’t mind the rain, especially a warm r

ain, but thunderstorms were another matter. The boom of a lightning strike could sound a little too much like an explosion, and he hadn’t refilled his anxiety medication in a while, hadn’t felt like he needed them. But last night’s dream, plus his lack of sleep, had him on the jittery side.

Pulling out onto the main road, he headed toward the heart of town as the wipers whipped water off the windshield too slowly to give him a clear view for long. He was just coming around the bend when he saw a white Jeep pulled off the road and a woman in a bright red slicker bent down by the back tire. At least, he was pretty sure it was a woman.

He craned his neck as he passed, and in the front seat, he saw a large tan shape.

A dog.

“Well, shit.” It was Callie. If it had been anyone else he’d have pulled off already, but he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression.

Are you really going to be a chicken shit just because she hurt your pride?

Flipping his truck around, he pulled off onto the side of the road. His heart was pounding like a jack hammer as he jumped out of the truck and jogged up the road. Thunder growled above as he came up behind her.

---