Love Fast

Rosey has confused me from the moment I laid eyes on her, but never more so than as she explains Donna’s theory about three RVs in Valley Park.

“But why would the government send RVs into Star Falls?” I ask.

Rosey shrugs and pushes the door of the truck open. “No idea. I thought maybe they were your RVs. Apparently, they’re pretty fancy. I wondered if you’d had them brought to town so you could get more construction workers or something.”

I slide out of the truck and slam the door shut. “Wasn’t me.” I shake my head. “I hope that rumor doesn’t get picked up. Next thing you know, I’ll be part of the government conspiracy, and the Colorado Club will be my spy headquarters or something.”

Rosey laughs, and the sound travels down my spine like cool water. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything today, I haven’t had the chance to think about what happened last night. All I know is, I couldn’t wait to get back to her today. At least we’re on safe ground at Grizzly’s. I’ll have to use every bit of willpower I have, but I’m going to be forced to resist her. I don’t want the entire town gossiping about me. Again.

There’s no music playing, but Grizzly’s is loud. Every table is full of people and excited chatter fills the air.

“It’s busy,” Rosey says, turning back to me with a grin.

We make our way to the bar. There’s one seat open and I gesture for her to sit.

“Tequila?” I ask.

She shoots me a puzzled look that says, Did you remember from the first night we met or are you just guessing? But of course I remember. How could I forget that night?

“Sure,” she says.

“Tequila,” I say to the bartender. “On the rocks. And I’ll take a beer.” I can feel her gaze on me. Eventually, I give in and look at her.

“That night feels like a thousand years ago,” she says, almost too quiet for me to hear.

I chuckle. “In a good way? Or a serving-time-in-a-Thai-prison kind of way?”

She smiles up at me. “In a really great way.”

The bartender slides our drinks across the bar and I lean back on the mahogany while Rosey sits beside me.

“Everyone’s so happy,” she says.

“Sure. They all survived the storm.”

“It was pretty terrifying having to go into the bunker,” she says. “I can’t imagine you ever get used to it.”

“Not living in the mountains in Colorado.”

“Were there many storms when you were a kid?” she asks.

I don’t look at her, because I don’t want to feed the rumor mill. I’m not convinced I can pretend I’m not completely enthralled by this woman if I give her all my attention.

“Plenty of storms,” I say, staring over at a table with a couple of faces I recognize. “But not many tornado warnings.”

One of the girls at the table glances over at us and waves. I raise my beer in response.

“Who’s that?” Rosey asks.

“I think it’s Juniper French. I went to high school with her, but she looked a little different back then.” Juniper French had been a little kooky in high school, to say the least.

“Juniper French. Sounds like a movie star or a pastry or something. She’s pretty. Did you two date?”

I chuckle. “No. I’m not sure Juniper dated in high school. Thinking back, she was pretty, but not to a fifteen-year-old boy. She had that baggy-sweatshirt, glasses-and-braces thing going on.” As we’re talking, Juniper slides out of her booth and wanders over.

“Looks like she grew up,” Rosey says, as Juniper approaches wearing a huge smile.

“I heard you were back in town,” she says, flinging an arm around me. She’s all long limbs and pouting lips. If it wasn’t for her powder-blue eyes and the same blunt bangs, I wouldn’t recognize her.

“Hey, Juney,” I say.

“It’s so good to see you. I’m hearing all the things about the Colorado Club.”

“What a ringing endorsement,” I reply.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about it.” She glances at Rosey, then back at me. “But I don’t want to interrupt your date.”

“Oh, we’re not dating,” Rosey says before I get a chance to respond. “We’re neighbors.”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, slightly uncomfortable. No, we’re not dating. But we did have sex last night. I’m not putting a ring on her finger, and I know she just got out of a serious relationship, and it’s not like I’m out here looking for love, but last night was… it shifted things between us, didn’t it?

My thoughts are running away from me. I just want a beer and a good time. Overthinking never ends well.

“Maybe I can come and see you up at the Club,” Juney says. “I don’t know if you know, but I do a bit of painting in my spare time. Some pottery, but mainly painting. I wondered if you wanted to see it.”

My heart sinks. My designer is in charge of sourcing all the artwork for the Club, and I know she’s not going to want me purchasing stuff she can’t use. Maybe I can buy a couple of pieces to put in staff housing or something. “That would be great.”

“You paint?” Rosey says. “I can’t draw a stick figure.”

“Oh, I bet that’s not true,” Juney says. “You probably just haven’t practiced very much. I’ve been doing it a long time now.” Her smile is warm and genuine. Rosey’s too.

“Have you?” I ask. “Was that always your thing? I can’t remember.”

Juney laughs. “Really? I was a mess in high school. You don’t remember I always had paint in my hair and under my fingernails?”

“It’s been a while,” I respond. I just remember Juney being quiet. It seemed like she was in a world of her own.

“You were too busy playing sportsball.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, sportsball was a big thing back then.” I used to take out all my frustrations about everything out on whatever field I was playing on. Sportsball was what the kids that didn’t play sports called any sport that involved a ball.

Juney pulls out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. “Do you have your phone? I’d love to share my digital business card.” She holds up her phone, which has a QR code on it. I scan it and hold up my phone so she can see that I have it. “I won’t take up any more of your time. Take a look at my work and if you think you might be interested, give me a call. I won’t hound you, I promise.”

“You can hound me. I have a lot going on, so I might forget⁠—”

“He won’t forget,” Rosey says. “I’ll make sure he remembers.”

My eyes widen in surprise. She’s going to be moving up to staff housing soon. How does she think she’s going to remind me if we’re not neighbors?

Juney makes her excuses and heads back to her table.noveldrama

Rosey mutters under her breath, “This is perfect.”

“What’s perfect?” I take a swig of beer and turn to face her on the stool. No one’s taking any notice of us anyway.

“Local art.” She says it in a way that suggests I should know what she’s saying. “The Club can start supporting a local artist. You’re trying to make the town less hostile to the Club, right? This is another way you can encourage local support.”

“I can’t put up art that isn’t any good. If I refuse to support a local artist, that could have the opposite effect—people might start to hate me.”

Rosey holds out her hand. “Let’s have a look at her stuff.”

Our gazes lock, and for a second, I wonder why the hell I insisted on coming to Grizzly’s. I can’t do anything I want to do to her with all these eyes on us. Rosey breaks eye contact first and clicks on Juney’s website.

“Whoa,” Rosey says. “This is not what I was expecting.”

I hadn’t really thought about what Juney’s art might look like. I guess I’m expecting intricate paintings of birds and bears and deer—local wildlife landscapes, that kind of thing. I get a sinking feeling. I should not have come to Grizzly’s tonight. I should go back to avoiding town and Star Falls residents in general. It just gets me into trouble. The last time I was here, I ended up with a neighbor. Now, I have to buy art I don’t want and can never display.

“I don’t necessarily understand it,” Rosey says. “I’m not an art person. But this looks… fresh. She’s had some exhibitions in Denver and Aspen.”

She pushes the phone into my hand and I take a look. There’s not a detailed wildlife painting in sight. Instead, there are huge abstract canvasses. I glance at Rosey, whose gaze is fixed on my phone. Her lips are mere inches from mine, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.

“I think some of these would look amazing in the chalets. In the main building as well, though I’m not sure you have room for them.”

“I’ll send the site to Rosalind and see what she thinks.”

“Rosalind?” Rosey asks.

“The designer. She’s in charge of all the interior decoration.”

“Tell her it’s a local artist. I think they’re beautiful.” Rosey’s cheeks are flushed with the heat of Grizzly’s and her enthusiasm for Juney’s paintings. She’s beautiful all the time, but lit up like this, she’s radiant. Maybe I should buy her a painting.

“You came!” someone screeches from behind us. Donna appears and grabs Rosey by the hand like they’re long-lost sisters.

“Did you complete your investigations?” Rosey asks. She’s clearly intrigued.

She grabs my elbow and stands close, pulling the three of us into a circle. “I knocked on the doors,” she whispers. I’m not sure if she’s drunk or just overinvested. “No freaking answer. It was six thirty. If it was a tourist, there’s no way they wouldn’t be in their RV at six freaking thirty.”

She looks between us like she’s a trial lawyer who’s just presented a smoking gun.

“So you think it’s the government?” Rosey asks, her eyes wide.

Donna lifts up her palms. “What else could it be?”

I’m about to give her at least a dozen possible explanations that don’t involve federal agencies, when suddenly the door to Grizzly’s crashes open and three very unexpected faces appear.