She was just passing through, looking for somewhere warmer, where her plants could thrive.
Anything between us would be temporary.
And I didn’t do temporary. I’d learned that lesson the hard way. People who were just passing through had a habit of taking pieces of you with them when they left.
I set my fork down and made a decision. I’d take Amelia on a tour today. Show her the hot springs and be professional about it. But that was it.
No flirting, no fantasizing about what she’d look like wet and steaming in that secluded spring.
I’d keep my distance from this one.
Chapter 4
Amelia
Grayson’s truck suited him. A weathered Ford pickup, its blue paint faded down to the metal in patches. Its body was speckled with rust and the tailgate had a solid dent in it.
He opened the passenger door for me, and I climbed up onto the bench seat, suddenly very aware that I was about to drive off into the wilderness with a complete stranger.
What the hell am I doing?
But even as the thought crossed my mind, I embraced the chaos of driving off into the unknown with a handsome man.
This was exactly why I’d left Jacksonville. Why I’d sold my furniture, packed my plants and driven until the flat Florida highways gave way to mountain roads.
I’d wanted adventure. It was time for me to stop being a woman who always played it safe.
Grayson rounded the truck and slid behind the wheel, his large frame filling the cab. The engine turned over with a rumble that vibrated through my seat, and then we were pulling out of the diner’s gravel lot.
Iron Peak slipped past us quickly. The town was small, just a handful of blocks really, and within minutes we were climbing a winding road that hugged the mountainside. I pressed closer to the window, my breath catching at the view.
Spring had come to the Colorado mountains in a riot of color I hadn’t expected. The lower slopes were carpeted in wildflowers, purple lupines and yellow arrowleaf balsamroot swaying in the breeze.
They looked nothing like the wildflowers of Florida. A different kind of beauty, and more entrancing to me since I’d never seen them before.
Higher up, the dark green of pine and spruce forests gave way to patches of aspen, their new spring leaves pale against the darker evergreens. Snowmelt cascaded down rocky outcroppings in thin silver ribbons, feeding streams that ran alongside the road.
And above it all, the peaks themselves still wore bright caps of snow.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Grayson’s voice was low, almost reverent.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” And I meant it.
Florida had its own beauty, sure, but nothing like this. This place made me feel so small and so alive all at the same time.
He pointed out landmarks as we drove. A meadow where elk gathered in the early morning hours, and the spot where the Iron Peak River flowed close to the road, its water running fast with snowmelt.
Then the road curved around a bend, and I saw crumbling stone walls half-hidden among the pines.
“What’s that over there?”
“Those are the Old Mine Ruins,” Grayson said, nodding toward the structure. “Don’t ever go there alone.”
“Why not?”
“Dangerous. The ground’s unstable in places, and there are old shafts that aren’t marked. People have gotten hurt exploring when they shouldn’t.” His jaw tightened. “Stay away from it.”
The warning in his voice made me shiver. “Noted. Stay away from creepy mines.”
