“I meant because you hate me, not because you were up all night fantasizing about me—but if we want to pretend it was the latter, I’m all for it.”
She let out a gusty sigh. “Believe it or not, I have bigger problems in my life than you.”
“Like what?”
“What do you care?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. Maybe we should be friends.”
She snorted. “You don’t need me to be your friend. You need someone to kick your ass every morning. And you need someone to figure out what the hell to do with your llama.”
“That almost sounds dirty.”
“Buck didn’t tell you about this?”
Dan shook his head. “Didn’t mention it to you either?”
“No.”
“No chance it’s a wild llama?”
“Yes, Sharpe. It’s a wild llama that hopped a fence, went into a stall, and is desperate to eat your ham.”
“That also sounds dirty.”
“You are giving me a headache.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Her plaid shirt was green and blue today, and while the serviceable work shirts she wore didn’t do much to show off her figure, the jeans did admirable things for her—
“Stop staring at my ass, Sharpe.”
“Sorry.” Sort of.
“Let’s figure out how to take care of this llama, huh?”
“You can’t tell me taking care of llama problems together isn’t friendship.”
She glanced at him. “Don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”
“Not really.” Which he’d never spent much time thinking about, but it was true. Once upon a time he’d counted his teammates as friends, but he’d always been a little bit apart. Not quite one of the group. Probably because he was a jerk, and his dad was a legend. Probably because at the first threat of any complex relationship, he bolted. “What about you?”
She shrugged. “Haven’t had much time for friends the past few years. Besides, not many people stick around Blue Valley.”
“So, how do you have time for this?”
“Twenty grand, Dan. I have a lot of time for twenty grand.”
“Hey look, we’re becoming friends already.”
“Because you’re paying me?”
“Because you called me Dan. Not Sharpe or asshole or moron. You called me Dan.” He smirked. “We’ll be best friends before you know it.”
“You sure do like your delusions.”
“They aren’t half-bad.” Besides, she was almost smiling instead of looking sad. He’d managed to cheer her up, maybe. That was new. Kind of a nice feeling.
“You’ll leave too, you know.” And all at once, her smile was gone. She didn’t look at him; instead, she looked out at the sky. It was a gorgeous blue, interrupted only by distant mountains.
“I’m not sure it’s permanent, but I’m not building this place to never come back to.”
“You’ll leave,” she said with such certainty it was hard not to believe her. “People like you don’t belong here.”
He was used to people having zero faith in him outside of a hockey rink, so he wasn’t sure why that struck him as a personal insult. That he didn’t—couldn’t—belong. But it hit, and it hit deep. “What does that—”
“I’m going to call Buck and see if he knows anything about the llama.” She walked away before he could argue with her, before he could demand to know what people like you meant.
Well, he’d find out one way or another.
Chapter 4
Mel was not curious. She refused to be. In fact, she was angry. Angry she was sitting here fixing Dan’s damn fence while he paced the hill, phone to his ear.
Except she couldn’t even muster angry, because for the first time since she’d met him, Dan was not smiling or joking or even looking a little sad and wistful.
He was furious. Every step he took seemed to be a personal attack on the ground beneath him. She was all the way down the hill, but she could occasionally hear a sharp curse reverberate in the air.
The call was important. She couldn’t argue that fact away. She couldn’t sit here not doing anything either, even if this was his responsibility. If she didn’t do anything, she’d start thinking again, and she was tired of thinking.
Thinking about Dad. Mom. The stupid dream she’d had last night that had left her feeling lonely and a little achy. The conversation with Dan about friendships didn’t exactly help.
Especially since he’d been very friendly in her dream.
It had been a while, on that front. Which she could deal with. Did deal with, quite fine actually. It wasn’t like sex was some kind of magical experience, no matter what fantasies dreams might offer.
The friendship thing was harder to roll with. The fact of the matter was, she was alone, because even though her brother provided a certain amount of company, she kept a lot from him. As much as they told each other everything was going to be okay, she was pretty sure neither of them believed it.