Nellie clucked her tongue but didn’t push it. She liked to spoil my kid but had already filled him with enough sugar to last him the rest of the week. I watched her check on a couple of other tables before heading back into the kitchen.
“Hey, Holt.” My buddy Harlan got up from a nearby table and came over. “Do you care if I eat with the two of you?”
“Not at all, though we’re going to be quick. Nellie wants to introduce me to someone she thinks might be able to help me this summer. I’m trying to get out of here before she shows up.”
Harlan laughed and slid in next to Lane. “Hey, kid. Find any dinosaur bones lately?”
Lane shook his head.
“How are you holding up?” I asked. Harlan’s jaw tightened. He knew I was referring to the recent Ex-List post that had gone up on Hard Timber’s social media accounts and had since been printed and pasted up all around town. It called out me, my two brothers, and a few of the other guys we hung out with as being emotionally unavailable assholes.
“I’m fine. You?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Just great. Everyone likes being call an iceberg, right?”
I’d memorized the short bit written about me.
Number Three - Holt Thorne - The Iceberg - Ever dated a brick wall? That’s what it’s like trying to get emotion out of this guy. Single dad with zero small talk skills and a thousand-yard stare that could freeze lava. You’d think he’s never laughed in his life. He’s not just cold—he’s cryogenically preserved.
“Better than being referred to as a jailer,” Harlan grumbled.
I didn’t comment on that, not with Lane sitting right there. We’d have time to commiserate together at the next Trail Supper. Friday night dinner with the guys was a tradition, and one of the only reasons I hadn’t completely lost my mind yet.
“Has anyone figured out who posted the list?” I moved my silverware out of the way as Nellie stopped by with a tray of food.
“You boys still yapping about that list?” Nellie set the plates down, including Harlan’s meatloaf. She must have seen him switch tables from the back. The woman had eyes and ears everywhere. “I’ll tell you what I told your older brother. Maybe you should spend more time thinking about what got you onto that list than trying to figure out who wrote it.”
Harlan shook his head and picked up his fork.
“Thanks for the advice,” I said though I didn’t really mean it.
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Can I get you boys anything else?”
I was about to tell her no when someone called out for her from the doorway. Every head in the place turned to see a young woman with pink hair heading straight toward Nellie with a huge smile on her face. She had on a tie-dyed crop top that barely covered her breasts and a pair of cut-off denim shorts that hugged her thick hips.
Instant attraction swept over me like a fucking tidal wave, and I knew without a doubt that she had to be the woman Nellie wanted me to meet. The one she thought would be a good fit to watch over Lane all summer long.
There was no way I could let that woman into my home or into my life. Not when just looking at her made my traitorous heart beat to the tempo of Mine. Mine. Mine.
CHAPTER 2
CALLA
Nellie wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in for one of her amazing hugs. She gave the kind of hugs that felt like they could fix anything. I hugged her back like my life depended on it. In some ways, it did. I’d told my grandparents I was just visiting, but in reality, I needed a place to catch my breath and lick my wounds. Hard Timber had always been a place where I felt safe. Hopefully it would provide the perfect refuge.
She let go first and gestured to the two guys and kiddo sitting at the table. “Calla, I’m so glad you made it in time. I want you to meet Holt and his son, Lane.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I said as one of the men slid out from the table and stood.
He towered over me in a Hard Timber Fire Crew t-shirt that stretched tight across his pecs. Everything about him looked like it had been chiseled out of granite, from his biceps to his hard jawline. A thick beard covered his chin, but underneath, I could tell his mouth was set in a firm straight line with no hint of a smile.
“I’m Holt and this is Harlan. He runs the Hard Timber Outfitters.” His deep voice rubbed along every single one of my nerve endings while cold, dark brown eyes sized me up from under thick, long lashes.
Nellie had warned me he might take some time to warm up, but the look the man gave me was icy enough to turn a cup of hot coffee into a frozen java slushie in an instant.
“We’re just finishing up lunch,” Holt said. The hard glance he shot at Nellie told me everything I needed to know. He didn’t want me here. In typical Nellie style, he’d probably been strong-armed into meeting me, just like she’d pretty much strong-armed me into meeting him.
“Why, Holt Thorne, you’ve barely even started your lunch. Lane, why don’t you stay here with Harlan and eat your tenders while your dad goes right over there and talks to Calla?” Nellie wrapped one hand around my upper arm and tugged at Holt’s shirt with the other. “Come on. Let’s get the two of you at a table so you can have a proper conversation.”
