His tongue sweeps over his top teeth. “Yeah, I changed my mind. I’m not interested in being interviewed.”
“Um, okay. Well, you were upset about people being singled out, and now you don’t want to participate. So, which is it?”
I fold my arms with an annoyed huff.
He rises from the stool and shoves his hat on his head. “I’m not participating. In fact, I just had a revelation. I don’t care what you and Jones fucking do. Stay out of my way.”
He stalks off, and I’m left with the recording machine whirring beside me. I hit the stop button and shake my head.Talk about whiplash, bud.
The lake at Cold Lake Provincial Park is perfect. Pristine blues are surrounded by crisp greens, earthy browns, and grey-and-white accents in the form of tree trunks and rocky ledges. The fresh air stretches my lungs as I haul myself from Spencer’s truck. Brady and Hadley roll in behind us, and we wander toward the water as the rest of the crew files in, parking along the shoreline.
Some of the other team members spill from the trucks with their girlfriends or wives as I step into the water. After a hot and humid morning, I could use a way to cool off.
The cool lake pools around my feet, tangling through my toes as I curl them into the sandy shore. It’s pure bliss. It’s the first outing we’ve all been on as a team and crew. So manysmiling faces, so different from the behind-the-chutes routines and focus.
“Maggie!” A tall blonde all but leaps from a still-moving truck, making a beeline for me.
Layla.
I can see Logan shake his head as he pulls up alongside Brady’s truck.
“Hey Layla!” I wave and she catches herself by grabbing my arms, sliding to a stop in the shallow water with a laugh. “Wow, did you guys just get here?”
“Urgh, my brother the workaholic wanted to bale damn hay before we left for the event. I swear to god.” She kicks up a foot, spraying water in front of us. With a heavy sigh, she holds her arms out at her sides and closes her eyes. “It’s so good to relax for a beat.”
“Busy week?”
“You have no idea. Ranch work never ends.”
“So I’ve heard.” I smile at her, but her eyes are still closed.
“You’re not a rancher, are you?” She opens those pretty blues and her gaze catches mine.
“Nope. Journalist. Photojournalism, to be specific. This gig is just to tide me over till the end of the year. Most opportunities open up just before Christmas, so...”
“You’re not staying?” Her brows drop, surprise etched all over her face.
“Um, well, no. That wasn’t the plan.”
She glances at the ruckus the others are making, cowboys turned water babies as they are chest-deep in the lake, roughhousing.
“That’s a shame.” Her words are soft, her focus hovering over Logan, Spencer, Brady, and finally Hadley, who floats in the water, chatting away. “I was getting used to seeing you around.”
“We should hang out more.”
I feel bad we haven’t had more time together now.
“I would like that.”
We fall into a comfortable silence and wade into the water. It’s heaven on my legs, rising up over my ass, and I squeal a little as it nips at my waist. My T-shirt is dark blue and darkens further with the water. Dropping down to bob in the clear blue, every inch of me relaxes. Thoughts of Knox, the interviews, and the drama with the scout photos fade.
“Imagine living by a lake like this,” Layla muses as she floats to my right.
I chuckle. “I do.”
Turning her head, she narrows her eyes. “Where?”
“Yoho.”
