Finding Love In Big Sky, Montana (Resort to Love--Finding Love line Book 2), Page 3

  The heavy door squeaked as Paisley hoisted herself into the driver’s seat. The vinyl surface chilled her through her jeans, and the rip in the material tugged at a pocket. Not the interior Josh would be used to.

  “Hey.” Josh joined her on the bench seat and wrestled with the antiquated seatbelt until it loosened enough for him to buckle. “I’m sorry to put you in this position, but I really appreciate the place to stay.”

  She may not have wanted to spend the extra time with him, but she didn’t have to be rude. “Don’t worry about it.” She turned the key. The engine sputtered and died. The perfect opportunity for Josh to hassle her about her vehicle in return. He stayed silent. Probably praying he wouldn’t be stranded with her. She turned the key again.

  The ignition cranked to life.

  She relaxed into the squeaky springs.

  Josh leaned his head back, as well . . . until she shifted into drive and stepped on the gas. Then the truck rocked over mounds of snow, knocking Josh sideways against the door.

  He rubbed his scalp where his head had bumped glass. “You know, I’d like to pay you somehow. I’d work on Big Red if I was good with engines, but I’m not. So if there’s anything else you need, let me know, okay?”

  Paisley rolled past the coffee shop, ignoring the faces peering at them through the window. Wouldn’t those old women love it if Josh stayed on to help her? Though that couldn’t happen. And not only because the big businessman wouldn’t want to stick around to feed animals and shovel poo. She’d graciously accept his empty gesture. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I’m sure your family is anxiously awaiting your arrival.”

  Josh snorted.

  Paisley turned onto the highway then slid her eyes sideways to covertly study Josh’s expression. The man she expected him to be would have been much too smooth to make such a sound.

  Josh rubbed his face. “I’m sorry. I’m apparently exhausted and can’t handle a normal conversation.”

  She nodded. Since neither of them wanted to talk, she wouldn’t talk.

  He leaned into the corner between the door and seat, and within minutes, his head rocked to the side at an angle that couldn’t in any way be comfortable. She scanned the floor for the blanket she carried with her in case Big Red broke down in the middle of nowhere. It must have been pushed under the seat. But if he pulled it out, he could use it to prop his head up.

  She’d wait for a pause in Josh’s rhythmic breathing to give the advice on getting comfortable. No pause. Not even when she bumped onto the gravel road. Wow, he was tired.

  Guilt nibbled her gut at the realization she’d almost refused to let him stay. He could have fallen asleep at the wheel and totaled his Mercedes. Or worse.

  What was wrong with her? Yeah, he’d snubbed her when they were teenagers. But that was a long time ago. His mistakes shouldn’t change the kind of person she was. She liked helping people. And besides, it was Christmas.

  She took a deep breath of resolve. She’d done the right thing. Dot and Annabel had also done the right thing.

  It wouldn’t be that bad. She’d house Josh the way the innkeeper housed Mary and Joseph when there was no room in the inn. Then he’d be on his way, and she’d get back to work on the ranch as if nothing had happened.

  The red barn greeted her when she rounded a grove of evergreen trees. Memories of working in her childhood barn next to Josh invaded her thoughts. The way he spoke to the horses. The way he looked so regal and confident when riding. The way he rarely glanced her way.

  She pulled up the driveway to the farmhouse and shifted into park. Now what? How did she wake the man in the passenger seat without making their circumstances more awkward?

  She leaned back against the vinyl and glanced toward the top of the vehicle, though she was actually searching heaven for answers. No response from the Almighty, so she dropped her head to the side to survey Josh and analyze the situation.

  Hazel eyes focused on her—not quite brown and not quite green. Usually they sparkled with mischief, daring others to keep up. But for some reason, most likely sleep deprivation, they watched her with hesitance, waiting for her to make the first move.

  Her pulse throbbed in her neck.

  Her first move would be to get Josh rested and back to The Coffee Cottage as quickly as possible. Maybe he could leave that same day after a nap. Otherwise she would get hurt again.

  Chapter Three

  Josh yawned, stretched his aching neck side to side, and kicked out of the sleeping bag. The room was warmer now as Paisley apparently built a fire after he’d all but collapsed on a mattress. It crackled and popped and filled the room with the scent of burning cedar, bringing back memories from standing around the burn barrels at his parents’ Christmas tree farm as a kid. The gas fireplace back in Chicago didn’t compare.

  Had he really gone that soft? Not only did he drive a car incapable of making it to Paisley’s ranch, but he’d lie down and let her do the work needed to build the fire. No wonder she’d cringed at the idea of taking him in. He was going to have to split logs and shovel snow to keep from losing all her respect—if she had any left.

  She certainly had his respect. He didn’t know any other woman who could possibly run a whole ranch on her own. Of course, the place was incredible—the surrounding mountains as majestic as the barn was quaint. This would be the perfect place to spend Christmas if he wasn’t broke and alone.

  On that depressing note, Josh swung his feet to the floor. A look out the window at the dark sky told him he’d slept a lot longer than he’d planned. He pushed to his feet and fished in the pocket of his jacket hung over the side of the bunk. Smooth plastic met his fingers. He pulled his cell phone out and clicked on a button to view the screen.

  Five o’clock in the evening. When was the last time he’d gone all day without looking at his phone? Would anyone even have missed him, or would his coworkers and former fiancée all have gone on with their lives as usual?

  No text or emails. The realization of his insignificance registered as an itch underneath his ribs. He couldn’t reach it to scratch, so he’d have to distract himself from the discomfort.

  He’d tell himself it was the mark of a good leader that he’d trained his assistant well enough to take over for him when he was gone. But what about relationships? Was he nothing more than a moneymaker to Synergy Ad Agency? And what about Bree?

  Unfortunately, he already knew the answer to that question.

  His brothers might not say, “I told you so,” but they had. Back when Bree had been too busy to travel with him to Tracen’s wedding.

  Josh sighed. He’d call Tracen now. If Paisley drove him back to town, he could be in Sun Valley by ten o’clock. She’d surely be thrilled with the thought of getting rid of him. He punched in the number and waited for it to connect.

  A “dialing” icon appeared. It spun lazily. And it kept spinning.

  Josh squinted. He checked the connection signal. No bars. So that’s why he hadn’t received any texts or emails.

  He grabbed his expensive new boots. If he’d known he was going to be going home for the holidays, he would have spent all that money on a pair of boots that provided warmth rather than just looking sharp. Too late for that now. Unless there was a voicemail waiting for him with good news.

  In a rush to borrow Paisley’s landline, Josh scrambled out the door before stuffing his arms in his coat sleeves. Soft snowflakes floated down, stinging as they melted against his skin. He pulled the coat closed and yanked up his hood, but it fell back down as he ran. Later he could focus on the beauty and serenity of nature. Right now he had to reconnect with his life.

  For all he knew, Marcus had already proven Josh hadn’t leaked Computex’s ad campaign to their competitors, even though it appeared that way when Digimax’s commercial aired. If that were the case, Computex would have kept their agreement to sign with Synergy Ad Agency, and Josh would have a big fat deposit waiting in his bank account. He’d have to get back to work im
mediately. He’d catch the first flight to Chicago and leave his car to his little brother Sam. Nobody would be making fun of the Mercedes then.

  He pounded up the stairs to the deck of the main lodge entrance, directly above the part of the building with a sign that read “Office.” Through the wall of windows, he spotted Paisley in a kitchen alcove at the back of the great room, stirring something in a pot on the stove. She’d probably offer him dinner, but if Marcus had come through, he’d take her to Moonlight Tavern to celebrate—and to thank her for letting him stay in her bunkhouse. Maybe she would like him then.

  He grinned as he knocked on the large, solid door. All he’d needed was a little sleep to put his life back into perspective.

  The lock jiggled and the knob turned. The door swung open to bathe him in light, warmth, and the buttery scent of bread and salty smell of seafood.

  Paisley didn’t smile, though she didn’t frown, either. He’d consider that an improvement. “I was beginning to think you would sleep all night,” she said.

  He gave her a confident smile because he was going to win her over yet. “Think about me a lot?”

  She stepped back so he could enter but crossed her arms. “Ways to get rid of you.”

  “Well.” He surveyed the vaulted room being held up by log beams. Huge place for a single woman. “If you let me use your phone, then that could possibly be arranged.”

  She closed the door and pointed toward an iron and stone end table before returning to the stove.

  Not bothering to shrug out of his jacket despite the heat, Josh dialed his own phone number on the corded phone that had to be left over from when Paisley’s grandpa owned the place. When he didn’t answer the cell phone, it clicked over to voicemail. Josh pushed in his passcode to retrieve messages.

  A recording greeted him. His heart thrummed in his chest. Please God, let there be a message from Marcus.

  “You have zero new messages.”

  Zero? Not even an “I’m trying to clear this up, Josh”? Heck, he’d even take an “I miss you, and I want to get back together” from Bree. He wouldn’t actually take Bree back, but it would be nice to be missed.

  He slouched into the leather cushions. Maybe he should have slept all night.

  “Clam chowder?” Paisley appeared beside him holding a steaming bowl. She was nice when she felt pity for him. He preferred her feisty side.

  As for the chowder? His stomach growled.

  “Thank you.” He took the bowl without looking into her eyes. Even though they hadn’t been in the same graduating class, seeing her feel sorry for him made him feel like they were at a high school reunion and he was the bald, fat guy who’d once been football captain. He may not be bald and fat, but he was practically unemployed. How stupid of him to think he could impress her by taking her out for a steak dinner.

  She retrieved a bowl for herself and lowered onto the couch across from him. “So, how long am I going to be stuck with you?”

  Josh stirred the thick soup. When was the last time he’d eaten homemade chowder? Probably never. Nice of her to share her dinner.

  Life could be worse, right? He could be stranded in his car in the snow. Or she could be treating him with kid gloves rather than challenging him with her sass.

  “Not long. If you’ll drive me back to the coffee shop, I can make it to Sun Valley before midnight.”

  She nodded. Took a bite.

  He followed suit. The hearty mixture ignited his taste buds and warmed his insides. He might have to have seconds.

  “Who were you calling?”

  He looked up. He hadn’t expected such a question, though he had implied he was calling someone who could possibly get him out of her hair.

  Her gaze darted back down to her bowl but not before he caught the curious glint. He might as well give her an explanation. It was the least he could do, since he wouldn’t be able to thank her financially for a while.

  “I was hoping to have voicemail from the owner of the advertising company I work for.” Should he call Marcus? He would after the weekend if he didn’t hear anything. But as it was already 6:00 in Chicago, Marcus would have gone home for the day. “I made a pitch to a computer company. It would have been the biggest deal I’d ever gotten. The biggest deal anybody at Synergy had ever gotten. Television, radio, magazine, billboard. The works. They were going to sign yesterday.”

  She studied him with renewed interest. Maybe he could impress her after all.

  “My commission would have been enough to retire on. And I . . . uh . . . celebrated a little prematurely. I took my whole team out on the town. Traded in my car. Booked a cruise for my honeymoon.” Okay, not impressive at all.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

  Was she asking about the job or the fiancée? Same answer. “A competitor’s commercial aired with my very same campaign idea.”

  She let go of her spoon and clutched her bowl with both hands. “How?”

  That was the twenty-million-dollar question. He shrugged. “I have no clue. They accused me of stealing the idea. But it was my idea. I don’t know how it ended up with another agency. So I’m on leave without pay while they investigate.”

  Paisley rubbed her lips together. It was a lot of information to process. Now the car and fancy clothes made sense, as well as the lack of funds. He hadn’t explained the fiancée situation, but that was none of her business. If she wanted to know, she’d check with Dot and Annabel who would probably get the information out of him when she took him back to the coffee shop to pick up his car. Or she could ask Sam. But no, she didn’t want to know.

  It was the advertising part that should interest her. How had she not remembered Josh worked in marketing? And he must have been pretty good at it.

  She might not want him around, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was in the middle of designing a logo for the new name of her ranch. And he owed her.

  How could she tactfully suggest he give her advice as a consultant? She’d have to be subtle so she could maintain her distance. What were they talking about again?

  Leave without pay . . . She connected a few more dots. “Which is why you are driving to stay with your brother in Sun Valley.”

  Josh blew his breath into his cheeks as if about to share something big. How much bigger could it get?

  He met her gaze. His hazel eyes hid nothing, not even the hope of gaining her understanding. Again, not the expression she was used to from him.

  She scooted away without meaning to. But that kind of openness threatened to cut through the cast she’d wrapped around her heart in order for it to heal.

  Josh registered her movement. He looked down but then met her gaze again—this time as if expecting her to kick him out. “I would have stayed in Chicago if not for the fact my fiancée believed I’d stolen the ideas and didn’t feel she could trust me anymore. We were supposed to elope and get married in the Bahamas over Christmas, so she’d sold her condo to move in with me.”

  Paisley sank back into the cushions. Josh wasn’t only dumped, he was dumped unfairly. Yet, if she understood correctly, he’d left home so his ex had a roof over her head. “She’s living in your place?”

  Josh ran a hand over his mouth. “Yes.”

  Paisley stared. Who was this man?

  “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

  She blinked. More like heroic. Not that she would ever tell him so. But what had his fiancée been thinking? How could Paisley encourage him without telling him she thought his ex was missing out? Though, of course, the ex would probably get back together with Josh when his company absolved him of any wrongdoing. “I’m sure your company will get this all cleared up. In the meantime, you get to go to Sun Valley for Christmas.”

  Josh looked down at the bowl in his hands. “And I got to stay at a gorgeous Montana ranch and eat some good home cookin’ on the way.”

  He didn’t mention the joy of having her company, but that shouldn’t be surprising. She hadn’t shown him her most
pleasant side. He knew she’d been trying to get rid of him. But now she needed him to stay a bit longer. And he’d given her just the opening to do so by mentioning her gorgeous Montana ranch.

  “You want the tour?” She could lead him into the office where she’d hopefully left her logo design file open on the computer. If the computer was in sleep mode, she could offer to let him check email—in case his employer wrote, of course.

  Josh stood and headed toward the kitchen area with his bowl. “I’d love a tour. And I’d love to hear what you’re planning for this place. Such an amazing opportunity.”

  “I think you said that already.” Paisley rushed to grab his bowl and beat him to the sink to let the dishes soak. She didn’t want to waste his time cleaning up the kitchen when she could be using him as a pro bono advertising consultant.

  Josh leaned one hand on the butcher block island. “What else did I say at the coffee shop? I was pretty sleep deprived at the time. It’s all kind of a blur.”

  He’d called her an angel. Which had made her think he was his old flirtatious self when really he was healing from a broken heart, same as her. But they didn’t need to discuss that subject anymore.

  She motioned him forward and flipped a switch to illuminate the hallway wall sconces. “I think you told Dot you’d let her give you a tattoo.”

  Josh’s lips curled up in amusement, which was almost more attractive than his “charming smile.” He followed her to the doorway of the den and leaned on it, looking at her rather than Grandpa’s wooden carvings and hunting trophies. “I did not.”

  “Yeah, you did. She invited you to her art show and you said, ‘I’d actually rather have you give me a tattoo like yours.’” She left him looking after her as she descended the steps toward the office.

  Footsteps thumped down the stairs after her. “You’d be willing to shave the back of my head for me, wouldn’t you?”

  Not a chance. She couldn’t get close to him. But she didn’t want him to know that. “Sure.” She turned at the bottom of the stairs to give him her most innocent expression. See? She could be charming, too. It was almost as good a defense as being irritable.