“What about the tattoos?” asked Diego.
“We’re not going there either. Not now. Not ever.” The look on her face made it clear the topic was closed.
There was a story worth telling though; I was sure of it. How did a good girl like Maya end up with a bad boy like … whoever they were talking about. I promised myself I would follow up later.
We spent the rest of the day brainstorming. The momentum built as everyone contributed; the room buzzed with collaborative energy. One by one, all the details fell into place.
“Wait, wait a second, hold up!” Noah held his hands up in the center of the room. “There’s a problem. A big one.” Everyone got quiet. If anyone was going to rain on our grouse parade, naturally it had to be the grumpy mountain man.
“Food,” he said grimly. “Can’t have a festival without food.”
“He’s right.” Brie nodded. “All the food trucks will be at that festival in Denver. I can bring my coffee cart, maybe rustle up some muffins, but feeding hundreds of people? No way.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as our perfectplan hit its first major roadblock. Then Parker cleared his throat. “I know how we could feed hundreds of people,” said Parker. I immediately noticed he wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“How?” asked Maya.
“Sam’s parents. They feed hundreds of people every day.”
“No,” I said immediately. “No, no, no, no, no.”
“But Sam …” Parker handed me back my phone. “Do it for the grouse.”
“For Gary,” Noah reminded again.
“There is no way in hell I’m letting my parents anywhere near the state of Colorado.” Now, for once, I was the grumpy one.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mom’s feet hit the tarmac. She rushed right past me and scooped up Noah in a giant hug. “You must be Noah! I’ve heard so much about you!”
“So much for a dignified entrance.” Dad patted my shoulder with the weary solidarity of someone who’d spent thirty years married to a human tornado.
Meanwhile, Noah stood frozen in my mother’s embrace, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. For a man who scaled cliffs for fun and stared down angry moose, he looked utterly terrified by my five-foot-nothing mother and her enthusiastic welcome.
“Mrs. Li, it’s so nice to meet you too.”
Mom finally released him, then moved back a few steps to conduct her inspection. Her critical gaze traveled from his freshly trimmed hair down to his, wait, were those new boots? When had Noah Barrett acquired footwear that wasn’t held together by duct tape and stubbornness?
“So handsome!” Mom declared, patting his cheek like he wasa particularly adorable toddler instead of a fully grown mountain man. “Much better than those dating app pictures Samantha shows me. Those men all look like they’re afraid of sunshine.”
“Mom,” I hissed, mortification spreading like wildfire. “I never showed you my dating app pictures!”
“I know the password for your phone when you visit,” she replied with a dismissive wave. “Bensongirl71305.”
“Mom!”
Dad stepped forward, extending his hand. “Henry Li, thank you for looking after our daughter.” His voice carried its usual stoic reserve, but I also caught the genuine gratitude.
“Noah Barrett. And it’s actually the other way around, sir. Sam’s the one rescuing endangered wildlife and rallying the community.”
I caught a smile tugging at Noah’s lips as he reached for Mom’s suitcase, which appeared large enough to transport a small family across three thousand miles of shark-infested waters. “Let me help with your bags.”
“So strong!” Mom exclaimed, beaming at me over Noah’s shoulder with a not-so-subtle thumbs up. “A mountain man with mountain muscles!”
Dad cleared his throat. “Helen, let the poor guy breathe. He’s turning the color of your chili oil.”
“I’m fine, really,” Noah insisted, though the tips of his ears had indeed gone suspiciously red. He hoisted both my parents’ suitcases with ease, the muscles in his forearms flexing beneath his rolled-up sleeves.
