Page 19 of A Sweet Chat for the Cowboy

He liked the way they’d left things—up in the air. They may or may not get together when her schedule opened up, so there was no pressure and no obligation.

But were they allowed to chat between now and then? He had really enjoyed talking to her and even if nothing came of it, he wanted to do it some more. She made him laugh, which was hard to do. But he didn’t want to seem all needy and send her a message, especially when she had just said that she was busy with work.

But if he didn’t message her, then he might never hear from her again. That wouldn’t be the end of the world, of course, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

He stood in his garage with his hands on his hips and surveyed the pile of gear. Wynona hadn’t said that they would be camping, but they were going to be spending the night outdoors, and it was going to get chilly. Should he bring some tents just to give people a spot to retreat to and warm up? They weren’t going to be able to build a fire. But Wynona had struck him as a bit of a know-it-all, and he didn’t want to endure a lecture about how they didn’t need tents. He couldn’t decide whether or not to pack them.

His phone chirped, and his heart jumped in his chest, which annoyed him. Yes, he hoped it was May, but he didn’t need to go feeling all high school crush over this. She was a complete stranger on the other end of an anonymous internet chat.Get a grip, he told himself.

It wasn’t May. It was Wynona saying that she had the photos. He waited for them to appear as an attachment or in the text itself, but there was nothing.

“Did you send them?” he wrote.

“I can’t,” she wrote back. “They’re hard copies.”

He scowled and looked at Sundance for emotional support before writing, “Where are the digitals?”

“She says she doesn’t have them.”

What? Who doesn’t backup their photos?

“Do you want to meet me somewhere to take a look?” she asked while he was thinking of something to say.

No, he didn’t want to meet this woman. He only wanted to look at the photos. It would be easier without an audience. But he couldn’t think of a way to word that without sounding like a total jerk. “Where?”

“I’m in Hill City, but I can come to you.”

“No,” he said quickly. He would go to her. Hill City was right in the middle of the Black Hills. Maybe he’d get lucky, and a scarlet-striped toad would hop across the road in front of his truck.

“Come on, Sundance.” He opened the truck door, and Sundance leapt in with the uncanny grace of a Brittany. Tucker climbed in behind him.

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TUCKER STOOD IN THElobby of what was likely the nicest hotel in Hill City. He hadn’t been inside any of them, so he was only using his imagination, but this one looked like it might have more stars than he’d expected.

The elevator dinged, and he looked up to see a beautiful woman striding his way. She was tall with an athletic build, flawless copper-colored skin, and shiny black hair pulled back in a ponytail.

She gave him a small smile. “Mr. Bridge?” She wore a blue T-shirt with mountains on the front and olive cargo pants that looked way better than cargo pants were supposed to look.

He swallowed and nodded. “Call me Tucker.”

She shook his hand. “Thank you for coming. The hotel gave us a conference room to use. Right this way.” She led him through a crowded casino area and down a narrow hallway to a small room that was almost empty except for one round table in the middle and a spattering of chairs. A large cardboard box sat on top of the table.

He peeked into it. “That’s a lot of pictures.”

“There are two other team members. Do you want them to help?”

“Have they spent time in these hills?”

She shook her head. “I very much don’t think so.”

“Then no.” He was annoyed enough thatshewas there. He didn’t want to add two more bleeding hearts to the mix. He reached into the box. “May I?”

“You don’t need my permission.”

“Well, I work for you, so I sort of do.” The words came out with more attitude than he had intended, and she winced.

She waved toward the box. “Help yourself.”

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