CHAPTER ONE
BAZ
The soundof crunching ice-encrusted snow under studded tires cut through the eighties rock I blasted while working. My place was well hidden among the Ponderosa pines off the only road winding up Pineville Mountain. My family and friends knew better than to interrupt my metalwork, never knowing when I’d be in the “creative zombie mode,” as my sister Astrid called it.
I set aside my welder and protective gear, secured the workspace and then roused the tomcat I named Thomas from his fourth nap of the day before making the short trek from my shop to the cabin I’d built myself. Mostly.
Astrid had called earlier asking if Josh, my ten-year-old nephew, could spend the night. The answer to that was always yes. They were the closest family I had, plus a few cousins in town who liked to complain about never seeing me. But they knew if they needed me, I was there.
But for Astrid and Josh, I was always available. Even when I was on a deadline. Plus, she always bribed me with peanut-butter brownies.
I hadn’t planned on becoming a mixed-media artist. I just fell into it. A few years back, I’d found a creative outlet after my retirement from the service, and hell, it had pretty much saved me from crawling into the bottom of a bottle.
At forty-one, I felt I’d finally found some peace and purpose. My joints may creak now and then, but my eyesight was holding steady and my client list continued to grow, mostly by word of mouth, and it kept the ghosts of the past at bay.
Hell, I knew I was one of the lucky ones after seeing years of death and destruction. Then, recently, several of my former unit brothers opened the Triple R Lodge just below my place. One of them, West Stafford had inherited his uncle’s rundown hunting cabin, and he and Lars and Ridge had spent the past couple years remodeling it into a sanctuary for veterans and first responders.
And recently, Kane had joined them, the pretty boy of the bunch, who’d spent time in Hollywood as a stunt double until he’d injured himself and showed up looking for a place to start over.
And that’s what the Triple R was. A place for these men and women to rest, restore and re-invent themselves, and I was all in. In fact, I was working on a beginner’s program for any of their client guests who wanted to learn how to weld, whether for art or to get a taste for the skill so they could apply for a trade program after their time at the lodge.
Guess that project would have to wait. Tonight, my nephew needed me.
I made it to my cabin just as Josh burst through the front door. I’d long ago given up scolding him or my sister for walking into the cabin if it was unlocked. But tonight, two sets offootsteps pounded up the porch steps behind him. Someone else was with them.
The typical excited conversation of my nephew was interspersed with two female voices as foot stamping filled the front room. “Uncle, you will not believe this! I’m head of the Christmas play committee for my class this year.” In a whirlwind of snow boots, backpack, and ski jacket, my nephew deposited it all with each step he took, then skidded to a halt in front of me.
My senses took in everything. Sharp as ever, they’d served me well during my many deployments and didn’t let me down as my gaze zeroed in on the woman smiling shyly from behind my sister.
I barely heard Josh’s excited words as my body went rigid. It felt as if a bolt of electricity hit me when my gaze locked with the curvy female standing behind my sister. Hazel eyes with flecks of green and gold shone back at me while the corners of her full lips quirked up in an impish smile that would be imprinted forever on my memory.
What the hell…where had that thought come from? I sounded like a love-struck teenager standing in front of his first crush. That wasn’t me. Tearing my gaze from this mystery woman, I noticed my sister’s interested and almost triumphant reaction as she looked between us. What was Astrid up to?
“Uncle, Uncle, this is my teacher. Ms. Riordan. She picked my suggestion for out play out of them all. And you just have to be in it! Please, please, please?” Josh was jumping like he had fire ants in his pants, and I felt like I’d missed the beginning and the middle of a conversation without ever having uttered a word. Not unusual for me. But at least I knew what topics were being discussed. Tonight, I had no clue. Josh did not look like a kid in distress. And my sister sure as hell didn’t look like a mom needing a break.
“Josh, hush. Can’t you see Uncle Baz has no clue what you’re saying? Start from the beginning, please.” Astrid used her sternest mom voice. It calmed my nephew down. But now I was amped up—on the inside. I kept my expression neutral even as I flicked my gaze to the woman standing off to the side of my sister.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. This is Zoe Riordan. Josh’s teacher. She just moved back to Pineville this year. We’re going out for dinner to catch up. We knew each other in high school. I hope you don’t mind my bringing her, but her place was on the way here…so, uh, yeah. Zoe, Baz. Baz, Zoe.” Astrid rocked back and forth on her tiptoes during the entire introduction. A dead giveaway that she was nervous and plotting something. What wasn’t clear. But I’d get it out of Josh when they left.
“Nice to meet you. Josh hasn’t stopped talking about his uncle since school started.” Zoe stepped forward, offering a delicate hand. As she moved, a lock of her dark blonde hair fell across her cheek.
Fighting back the urge to brush the wayward curl aside, I almost reached for it but recovered at the last moment and took her hand in mine. “Same. Except I haven’t heard about you.” My voice sounded raw and raspy. And then I noticed something else.
My hand felt…scorched.
It was the only word I could use to describe the sensation as our flesh touched. And I wanted more. The slightest brush of her fingers against mine had lit me from the inside out, and I instinctively knew that if I’d continued holding her hand, I would have pulled her against me, demanding a longer test of my instant reaction to ensure it was real.
Immediately letting go, I inwardly swore at the confusion and hurt that filled Zoe’s eyes. But then she blinked it away as her face morphed into a comical twist before turning her attention to Josh. “I can see why you wanted me to meet him,Josh. He’ll be perfect. And on behalf of my entire fifth grade class, I’d like to thank you, Mr. Johansson, for agreeing to help out.”
What the ever-living hell was going on with me?It wasn’t as if I hadn’t ever met a beautiful woman before. And yet, here I was acting like a damn fool.Wait. Help out?Just what had my nephew promised this time?
As I opened my mouth to ask, Astrid cleared her throat and tugged on the back of Zoe’s jacket. “Great. You two have met, and now we can leave. I’m starving. You’re hungry, right, Zoe?” My sister couldn’t back up fast enough.
“I’ll pick up Josh around ten tomorrow. Thanks, Baz. Oh, and don’t forget. You promised you’d come to Friendsgiving this year. It’s next Sunday, five sharp.” Astrid kissed Josh on the head, which was the only place he let her now that he was ten. She gave me a quick side hug before she hustled herself and Zoe out my front door.
I wasn’t going to watch her walk away. Not going to torture myself further. But my intentions and my willpower both lost out to curiosity. And damn. The backside of Zoe Riordan was almost as good as the front. Her ski jacket nipped in at her waist, accentuating her curvy hips and long legs. Long legs were my kryptonite.
She had to be around five-eleven, which, for a man of almost six-five who preferred a woman I didn’t have to hunch over to kiss, Zoe was a rarity. And if she was as smart as she was beautiful, then she’d be my damn unicorn.
