Page 12 of Fall or Nothing

Oh shit. Did she expect us to…? I mean, yes, I would totally take her to bed; she’s beautiful. But the circumstances…

“Sage, I don’t know—is there a local hotel where you can drop me off?”

“If there were, would you want to walk in looking like that? Not sure they’d rent you a room. Let’s get you some clothes.”

She had a point, and I followed her inside a back door. To the left were a tiny elevator and a stairwell. Straightahead was a door with a sign on it for Wylde West Outfitters. She unlocked it.

My mind raced—stay or go? Sleep with her and then leave her? Have her drop me off at the ranch? Or somewhere else so I can escape Montana for good?

None of it sat right. Besides, my gut told me Sage wasn’t the sleeping-around kind of woman. And there was still the pesky problem that somehow, someway, I needed to earn my inheritance.

She flipped on the lights, illuminating racks of denim, flannel, and leather chaps. Boots lined the shelves in neat rows. “Clothes for the working man and woman,” one sign read.

This wasn’t a designer place built for show on Fifth Avenue in the city. Rather, a shop filled with clothes people actually used to labor in every day. But I was mildly impressed by how nicely the floor plan was laid out, and how well the product was displayed.

“Our mother started this shop years ago. And then after she and Dad passed away… well, Ivy runs it now.”

Shit. That’s heavy. “Sorry to hear about your parents. My father passed away some time ago, too.”

Our eyes locked, and suddenly we weren’t two people from different backgrounds, but a man and a woman who knew the pain of loss.

She blinked away first. “I help, working part-time here and part-time next door at the coffee shop, plus any other odd jobs I can get. Come on. Let’s see what size you are. Here—give me the coat,” she instructed.

I shrugged it off my shoulders and handed it back.

She gasped. Her eyes widened, gaze traveling deliberatelyfrom my shoulders down to my abs, then lower. Heat followed everywhere her eyes landed. Another few seconds of that look and I’d have a very obvious problem in these boxers.

“Wow. That’s not normal,” she observed, setting the coat aside on the nearest counter.

“Huh?” I blinked and glanced down at myself, expecting something weird going on down there. “Uh. I’m going to need more context.”

She gestured vaguely, her expression caught somewhere between curiosity and amusement.“Your tan. It’s so even. Everywhere.” She cleared her throat.“I mean, I’m used to men around here having farmer’s tans. Their arms and neck get darker from working outside, but the rest of their bodies—pale as snow. But you look like you were dipped in gold. All. Over.”

I opened my mouth, but stopped myself. The truth was that just last week I’d been lying on a private beach in Dubai, completely naked, somewhere too expensive to admit out loud. It wasn’t exactly the sort of detail that fit this altered reality of mine.

“Uh, yeah, I work outside shirtless whenever I can,”I feebly managed.

She paused and tilted her head, clearly processing that. Then her lips curved slowly, dangerously close to sultry.

“Shirtless,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

Her gaze dropped lower again in a way that made my skin feel a little too aware of itself.

“Well, that works for me,” she breathed, and turned away, but not before I caught the faint pink rising in hercheeks.“Enjoy it while you can, though. We’re heading into winter. You’ll lose some of that glow, unless you like to freeze shirtless.”

“After tonight? No thanks. I think I’ll fly off to a tropical island tomorrow to warm up.”

She laughed, but I was being pretty serious.

“Want to join me on that little getaway, Sage?”Hell, one phone call and I’d have the jet waiting for us on the nearest tarmac. I could sweep Sage away on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to spend the rest of my trust fund with reckless abandon.

“You’re funny.” She snorted and headed back toward me with an armful of clothes.

“Why? Don’t you ever take a vacation?”I eyed the items ranging from jeans to flannel shirts to woolen socks.

“Nope. I think I’ve been working nonstop since I was sixteen. But I have been saving for my dream trip.”She got a faraway look on her face.“I want to see the lavender fields in France. I have about $250 socked away now. Someday I’ll get there.”