He pulled out his most charming smile from, frankly, an impressive bank of options. And then a glass of tea was placed next to his elbow, and he couldn’t help looking up at Jason with a real smile. The guy was lean but tall. Of course, some people would say that to Rileyeveryonewas tall, but he didn’t figure five ten was short, exactly. Just not quite Jason-level.
“Your meal should be—give me five minutes,” Jason blurted out in a rush, and bolted back toward the kitchen like there was something after him.
“You seem to have made quite an impression on Jason,” Nerissa said.
“He’s not always like that?” Riley’s ears—and another part of his anatomy—pricked up at that. If Jason was more with it than he’d seemed, then maybe Riley could have a little fun while he was here.
“He can usually string a sentence together,” she said. “As for forgetting an order, I’ve never known it happen before. Tell me, Riley, what are you doing in Elk Ridge?”
He made sure to tell her his entire cover story, because he had the feeling this woman knew everyone. “And so I’m spending some time here, finding out what would bring tourists a little off the beaten track,” he concluded. “Working ranches, not dude ones, and hiking trails that aren’t crowded with other people.”
“Sounds admirable,” she said. “But do you think we’ve got enough to offer them?”
He couldn’t help the grin that broke from him as he surveyed her really rather sumptuous figure, shown off to advantage by a black dress that was way too fine for lunch at a small-town diner.
“You know precisely how I meant that, Riley Clark,” she scolded him, but there was laughter in her eyes. She wasn’timmune to admiration from a man, even if that man was gay as could be.
“I was hoping that’s what the town can tell me,” he said. “When I was researching places around here, I read you’ve got your own shifter pack. That’s going to bring in shifters looking for a place to vacation, if they know there’s no prejudice here. There isn’t any, is there?”
Nerissa raised the napkin from her lap and folded it carefully before placing it very precisely on the table. Her lips were pursed slightly, and Riley wondered if his question had been too pointed. Shifters had possessed equal rights for decades now, but that didn’t mean everyone accepted them. And clearly, clumsy phrasing could still blow things up fast.
“Sorry,” he said, with his best scapegrace grin. “Sometimes I get so enthusiastic about a subject, I just charge in and ask tactless questions.”
“I can see that,” she said, looking at him steadily. “You might want to ease back a bit if you want people here to talk to you.”
His chastened expression was genuine. “Sorry.”
“It’s a good town here,” she said. “There’s a few folk who haven’t taken too well to shifters moving in, but most of us don’t even think of the pack as shifters. They’re part of this town too, you know, and I don’t care for the way you seem to mark them out as different.”
Holy crap. He’d nearly blown this thing before he even got started. “I’m sorry,” he said, as sincerely as he knew how. “I guess I’m looking at this in terms of groups who might want certain vacations—young singles, families, seniors. To me, ‘shifter’ was just another category. I didn’t mean anything more than that.”
“Well, good,” she said, and her teasing smile was back. “So just how can I help you, Riley?”
He picked up his glass, giving himself a second to breathe as realization hit—he’d been so focused on getting her to talk, it had never even occurred to him thatshemight be a shifter. Would he have worded his question differently if it had? He liked to think not. But the fact remained, he’d automatically assumed she was a normal person.
He wasn’t prejudiced, but shifters were alien to him. In his world, they were a headline, a political talking point, not people sitting across from him sipping iced tea. He needed to remember that anyone he spoke to here might be a shifter.
Riley set his glass down and flashed her his best, most unshakeable smile. “Well, for starters, you can tell me where a man can get a decent drink in this town.”
JASON
Jason fiddled with the beans once more, ensuring that they looked perfect on the plate. He hadnoidea what it was about that guy that had stolen all his higher brain functions. Sure, he was hot—make thatveryhot. And if Jason kept thinking that way, he’d never be able to set foot outside the kitchen, let alone take the guy his meal.
Jason wasn’t immune to attractive guys. Truth be told, he fell in love with at least three actors a year. But he’d never met anyone in real life who had anything approaching this effect on him.
Ms. Taylor would probably have invited that guy over to her table by now. That was the difference between her and someone like Jason. She knew how to flirt, how to exist in the world as someone other people wanted. Jason had never figured that part out.
But he still had to face this guy. He swallowed hard, then picked up the plate and marched out with it, his heart pounding.
He was sitting with Ms. Taylor. They were laughing together, and Jason’s heart stopped at the sight. He wasn’t sure whether it was due to crushing disappointment at the way they were flirting with one another or simple appreciation of the picture before him. The guy had been like every wet dream Jason had ever had—and as he was a twenty-four-year-old virgin, that was quite a few—when he was just ordering food. But when he laughed, Jason’s brain went from short-circuiting to actualmelting. Those blue-gray eyes were dancing with humor as he leaned in close and said something to Ms. Taylor, who tapped him reprovingly on the arm in a way that somehow managed to be encouraging.
Jason took a deep breath and made his way over to their table. He shouldn’t be surprised, and he definitely shouldn’t be disappointed. The chances of some stunning stranger turning up in the diner in Elk Ridge were low enough. The chances of that stunning stranger turning out to be gay were infinitesimally smaller. And Ms. Taylor did like to flirt. He would drop off the plate and go back to the kitchen and leave them to it while he waited for Sam to return. Then he could go back to the ranch and forget the longing that had taken up residence in his heart.
“Jason, dear,” Ms. Taylor greeted him. “I’d like you to meet Riley Clark. Riley, this is our Jason Nichols, who cooks like an angel.”
Jason’s cheeks heated as he put the plate down in front of Riley. “Enjoy your meal,” he muttered, finding sanctuary in clichés.
“Could I get a refill on the tea?” Riley asked. He was smiling up at Jason in a way that had Jason’s heart beating unevenly.
