Currant Creek Valley

A gruff guy named Joe—who hadn’t met her gaze more than a millisecond when she talked to him, and who had only said three or four words at a time—told her Sam had been out picking up a few things at the building supply store.

She tried to convince herself she wasn’t at all disappointed to miss him but she recognized that for a lie. She had been disappointed, seriously bummed, which was when she had decided she needed to think twice about entangling herself with him.

Any man who could make her react like a teenager driving by her crush’s house a half-dozen times a day spelled trouble.

The door opened and Lucy Martineau, the pastry chef, walked in and headed for the open stall. “You look great. Hot date?”

“No. Not a date,” she was quick to assure her friend. “I’m just meeting somebody at the Lizard for drinks and some pool.”

“Anybody I know?” Lucy asked. “Stupid question. Of course he wouldn’t be. Let me guess. Is he in town on business or fun?”

Mascara wand in hand, she paused her quick makeup job long enough to make a face in the mirror at Lucy, who was washing her hands at the other sink.

“Very funny.”

“Which is it? You know you never date anybody longer than a few weeks, Alex.”

“Not true,” she protested.

“Isn’t it?”

“I went out with that musician for nearly a month, until his gig up at the lodge ended.”

“I forgot about him.”

So had Alex, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Lucy. “It’s easier to date somebody who’s moving on anyway. We both know where things stand from the outset and nobody develops unrealistic expectations. It’s cleaner, all the way around.”

“If you say so.” Lucy looked doubtful, but then, she had been married for a decade. “So who’s the guy?”

She didn’t want to answer but since others would probably see them together at The Speckled Lizard, she didn’t see any reason to lie. “He’s the contractor finishing up the remodel at Brazen. Our relationship is strictly professional. I figured I would introduce him around, help him feel welcome here, that sort of thing. I figure if he’s happy during his stay in Hope’s Crossing, he’ll be more motivated to make sure he does a good job on my kitchen.”

Lucy didn’t lose her skeptical expression. Alex couldn’t really blame her since it all sounded like a load of manure to her, as well.

“Well, have a good time.”

“I intend to.” Even if that meant backing away from the flirty fun of the day before, she thought with a sigh.

To her amazement, she quickly found a parking place right by The Speckled Lizard. This was a happening spot from December to March, jam-packed with skiers and boarders looking for somewhere to relax after a hard day on the slopes. The bar served generous drinks and usually had live music on the weekends.

During the summer months, it wasn’t quite as busy but still did a lively business, both tourists and regulars. They grilled a mean burger out on the patio in warm weather and it was always a fun place to meet up with friends.

Like many establishments in town, the shoulder seasons—April to early June and then September to mid-November—belonged to the locals.

She was early and didn’t see any sign of Sam Delgado, of the broad shoulders and warm dark eyes. She waved to Mike from the bike shop in town, who was sitting with Cathy and Jonah Kent, both paramedics.

She always hated sitting by herself at the bar and was about to ask if they minded if she joined them while she waited when someone walked right in her path.

“Hey, there, Alex.”

She gave a mental cringe. “Hi, Corey.”

He had a tumbler of what looked like whiskey in his hand and a bleary-eyed look that indicated it wasn’t his first of the night. No surprise there.

“You look fantastic,” he said, stumbling a little over the adjective as he threw an arm around her shoulder.

Her mental cringe turned into an actual one but Corey Johnson didn’t seem to notice. He never did. To Corey, the three dates they went on in high school twenty years ago apparently left him feeling entitled to paw at her whenever he wanted.

“Pat, bring the lady a drink. My treat.” He beamed at her as if he were bestowing a huge honor and she squirmed a little more.

How was she going to play this? Being firm was generally not a problem for her but she had to admit, she felt a little sorry for Corey. About six months ago, he had lost his job as a mortgage loan officer because of the struggling economy and hadn’t been able to find anything since.

Though he’d been scrambling to make ends meet and the family had even had a few visits from the Angel of Hope—the mysterious anonymous benefactor who went around town doing good deeds—his wife had finally tired of their ride to Nowheresville and had taken their kids to Grand Junction to stay with her mother.

Things weren’t going all that great for old Corey, but that didn’t mean she was willing to be his consolation prize. He was still married. Even if he wasn’t, she hadn’t been interested enough in anything but a handful of dates in high school and she was less interested now.

“I’m good, Pat. I’m just having mineral water tonight,” she told the bartender, who lived down the road from her.

“Oh, come on.” Corey leaned in close and the blast of liquor on his breath seared her nasal passages. “You need something more than that after a hard day.”

“No, really. Mineral water is enough.”

“You’re no fun anymore, Al. You used to be fun.”

“I’m still fun. I’ve just never needed alcohol to get me there.” She forced a smile, which in retrospect was a bad idea. Corey took that as encouragement.

“What do you say you and me go out back and see just how much fun we can have together?”

Eww. Seriously? She tried to edge away but Corey had won second place in the state wrestling championship for his weight class their senior year and still had a pretty darn good half nelson.

“Yeah, I’m going to have to pass on that charming offer,” she said firmly.

“Come on. We can just make out, if you want.”

The very thought made her glad she hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime. “No, thanks. Let go, Core.”

Instead, he tightened his grip and leaned his head down to her ear and whispered a filthy suggestion. She decided she didn’t have any sympathy left for Corey and hoped like hell his wife had taken every penny of whatever the Angel of Hope had given the family when she made her way out of Dodge.

“Let go. Now,” she said firmly but Corey ignored her.

Nobody else at the bar seemed to have noticed her predicament, probably assuming it was just a warm chat between old friends. She was trying to figure out whether he would even feel a sharp elbow shoved into his slight beer belly or if she would have to knee him hard where it counted when another voice intruded.

“The lady said no, I believe.”

She shifted her gaze and knew she shouldn’t be so glad to see Sam Delgado standing next to them in all his rough-edged, ex-Army Ranger glory.

She totally had this and didn’t need rescuing, but it was still really, really nice of Sam to step in.

Corey turned his red-rimmed eyes in Sam’s direction. “Mind your own business, asshole,” he slurred.