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“Sorry, honey, it’s my stomach talking instead of my heart.”
Tessa laughed aloud and Dalton shot her a grin. “Just wait. You are in for a treat.”
Skye nodded. “Gus trained in Paris.”
“Wow. And she wound up here?”
“I told you,” Nelson said, “Good Riddance has that effect on people.”
“And sometimes the infatuation with wilderness living wears off after a while. Not everyone who decides to move here winds up staying,” Clint said. His tone was neutral but there was something about him, the way he held his body, that made her think there was some personal story behind his words.
“No doubt about it, Good Riddance can be an acquired taste,” Dalton said.
It was early on but so far Tessa liked what she’d seen of Good Riddance. Clint’s arm brushed against hers and an awareness quivered through her. There were some things in Good Riddance she liked more than others, and unfortunately for her peace of mind, the man sitting next to her was at the top of that list.
SWEET JESUS, HAVE MERCY! Merrilee eyed the man in front of her with a mixture of loathing and contempt. It had been twenty-five years since she’d seen him and it still wasn’t long enough. Of course, she’d pretty much counted on never seeing his sorry ass again and this was still too soon. However, it appeared to be Theodore Jackson Weatherspoon, better known as Tad, standing in the airstrip office.
At least she was fairly certain it was Tad … or maybe just some very bad approximation thereof. The overhead light glinted off his poorly placed hair plugs, and he’d dyed the whole mess some funky orangish-yellow color she supposed was meant to be a shade of blonde. And that was all set off by his spray-on tan. And while Tad had favored button-down Ralph Lauren paired with khakis, this fool was wearing a graphic T-shirt that had obviously come from one of those mall stores which catered to teens and twenty-somethings. And what was he thinking wearing jeans that hung low on his hips? Better yet, what was he thinking with the twenty-something with the collagen lips and silicon boobs hanging on his arm?
“Wassup, Merrilee?”
“Tad?” She nearly pinched herself to verify this wasn’t some crazy nightmare, although she’d blessedly not dreamed of Tad in all the time since she’d left him.
He grinned like the total jackass he was. “Not bad for a fifty-one-year-old, huh?”
“Except you’re not fifty-one, ace. You’re sixty-three.”
The blonde next to Tad pursed her lips in equal parts of displeasure and surprise. “Sixty-three, Daddy?”
“Merrilee’s confused, baby doll.” Tad patted Ba by Doll’s hand then turned to Merrilee with what she supposed was intended to be a charming boyish smile. “You never were very good at math, were you, Merry?”
She wanted to instruct him to kiss her lily-white ass but under the circumstances she figured she had to play relatively nice. She did not, however, intend to lie down and roll over. He might have the upper hand, to some extent, but he was still on her turf. “Don’t call me Merry.”
Before Tad could respond, Bull came through the connecting door from Gus’s carrying two plates. She could see him sizing up the newcomers as he crossed the room and placed the plates on the desk. He nodded and introduced himself, offering his hand, “Bull Swenson.”
“Tad Weatherspoon,” the jackass said, shaking Bull’s hand.
Of course he recognized the name, he’d only known about Tad for nearly twenty-five years. Bull slanted a quick glance Merrilee’s way before saying to Tad, “Ah, the ex-husband, huh?”
It was Tad’s turn to glance at Merrilee. “In the flesh.”
“This is Jenna,” Tad said, motioning to the woman at his side as if he was presenting a prize ribbon at the county fair.
“I’m his fiancée,” Baby Doll, nee Jenna, said, holding out her hand, not to offer a handshake but to flash her three-carat, Princess-cut diamond. Merrilee could still size up a diamond from across the room. Tad had obviously gone for quantity rather than quality as the clarity was poor, but she doubted Baby Doll knew the difference.
“Pleased to meet you, Jenna. Nice ring.” Bull, ever the gentleman, despite his rough-around-the-edges appearance, admired the jewelry.
“She wanted bling, so she got bling,” Tad said.
Bling? Oh, boy.
“Are you hungry, Jenna, honey?” Merrilee asked, and continued without waiting for the younger woman to respond. “And I bet you could use a drink after what was surely a bumpy ride. Bull, why don’t you take Jenna over to Gus’s while Tad and I sort out their arrangements for tonight.”
It was thin, but it was the best she could do on short order. However, Bull’s expression clearly told her she had some explaining to do before the evening ended.
The door had barely closed behind them when she faced Tad. “What do you want?” She had no idea how much time she had with him alone and there was no point in beating around the bush.
“Well, hell, Merry, it’s been twenty-five years and that’s the best you can do?”
She’d told him not to call her Merry but that darn sure wasn’t a hill to die on. She let it slide. “Tad, let’s get something straight right up front. If you breathe a word to a single soul here that we’re still married, I’ll gut you like a bottom-feeding catfish.”
“I THINK THAT’S THE BEST meal I ever had,” Tessa said, her eyes sparkling, her smile genuine and altogether sexy, as she and Clint made their way through the restaurant.
Unfortunately for Clint, she eclipsed every other woman in the room. “Every meal is that way. Gus knows her way around a kitchen.”
Across the room he spotted Bull with a woman who looked as if she’d taken a wrong turn on her way to a day at the spa—not your typical Good Riddance visitor. Glancing up, Bull caught Clint’s eye. The other man looked grim—well, a little grimmer than usual.
Clint held the door for Tessa to precede him back into the air strip office. Dinner had been great and it was rather disconcerting how much he’d enjoyed her company. She had fit right in with Skye, Dalton, and Nelson. But he had to admit he was damn curious as to who had flown in with the Barbie over at the bar under these conditions.
As he and Tessa walked into the airstrip office, they were clearly interrupting a conversation between Merrilee and an older man who looked very strange. Merrilee turned to face them, the smile on her face not quite reaching her eyes. “How was dinner?”
At his side, Tessa glanced from Merrilee to the stranger, obviously sensing the same level of tension Clint had. “Great.”
“Good, good. Tessa, Clint, this is Tad Weatherspoon. Tad, Clint Sisnuket and Tessa Bellingham. Clint’s one of our best local guides and Tessa flew in this afternoon from Tucson. She shoots and produces great ambient videos. In fact I’ve been enjoying one of her beach videos. It’s just like being at Orange Beach down in Alabama.”
Weatherspoon? And Merrilee was talking a lot even for Merrilee. Tad Weatherspoon had shaken Merrilee and that was a pretty damn hard thing to do. He’d known Merrilee to be animated and outgoing but for the most part she was unflappable. Except now.
“Pleased to meet you,” Tad said with a smile that revealed obviously over-bleached teeth. “I’m the reason Merry moved to Alaska. When she runs, she runs, wouldn’t you say?”
Merrilee offered a tight smile. “A continent apart has proved to be a good plan.”
Clint wasn’t even sure what to say to any of this. He opted for, “Well, we’re all glad she wound up here.”
“Yep, Merry always was bossy as hell so having her own town to run is right up her alley. Say, if you’re a guide maybe you can show me and Jenna, my fiancée, around some this week. You probably saw her next door.” He smirked. “I can’t wait to see what Merry’s done with the place.”
Merrilee jumped in before Clint could respond.
“Clint’s booked for the week,” Merrilee said. “And I’m sure you don’t plan to be here very long.”
Clint had the distinct impression a cat and mouse game was being played between Merrilee and her ex-husband. What wasn’t clear, however, was who was the mouse and who was the cat.
“We’re flexible,” Tad said, shrugging and flashing his pearly whites once again. “Then I guess you’ll have to line us up with another tour guide … or you can always show us around yourself.”
Merrilee forced a smile. “That’s not going to work out.”
“Who knows, we might decide we like Good Riddance so much we don’t want to leave.”
Clint glanced at Tessa who was watching the byplay with wide eyes. Things had certainly gotten interesting in Good Riddance in the past three hours.
4
TESSA ROLLED OVER AGAIN and glanced at the bedside clock. After midnight. She was tired. By all accounts and purposes she should already be asleep. Instead she was wide awake and restless.
It was as if everyone she’d met tonight was flowing through her brain and she couldn’t stop thinking about them. She traveled frequently and met lots of new people, but she’d never felt as engaged by new acquaintances as she had with the citizens of Good Riddance.
And at the top of the engaging-people heap was Clint Sisnuket who happened to be in the room next door. At least tonight there was a wall between them. Tomorrow night they’d be sharing a single-room cabin. The mere thought set her pulse racing.
She hadn’t been prepared for the sheer impact when she met the man. Those dark eyes, the high, flat cheek bones, the beautiful hue of his skin, the glossy darkness of his hair, the rich cadence of his voice all tripped her trigger.
And in return she couldn’t figure him out. He’d been almost hostile when she’d first met him, but then a couple of times over dinner, she could’ve sworn he was as attracted to her as she was to him. And she supposed in the long run none of it mattered because she was simply here to do her job and then move on to the next location.
Feeling thoroughly out of sorts with herself and the fact that she couldn’t sleep, she pushed aside the quilt and sheet and climbed out of bed. It was chilly outside the covers but she welcomed the cold. She’d worn thick, wool, hiking socks in bed, and now that she was up, her feet felt warm. In an effort to pack light, she hadn’t bothered with pajamas and instead was sleeping in thermal bottoms and top. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she wandered over to the window and looked out.
Outside the wind howled and snow swirled like white confetti being blown out of a machine. It took her a few seconds to realize that no lights lit the single street running through the town’s center. She rather liked the way it looked with just the rushing snow. Something she couldn’t name shifted inside her.
Without giving it a second thought, she grabbed one of her cameras and started shooting through the window. It would probably never make it to one of her videos but she wanted it for herself because there was something very moving about the place at this moment.
Satisfied with what she’d captured on film, she turned the camera off. As she leaned forward, her warm breath fogged the glass. She smiled at her whimsical impulse to trace her initials there the way she used to in the freezer section of the grocery store when she went shopping with her mother. There was definitely something about this room, this place, that evoked childhood memories, memories from the time before she lost her parents.
Tessa put the camera away and crossed to the door. She cautiously opened it to the landing. Merrilee had given her room to the pilot—Tessa couldn’t remember his name—who’d flown in Merrilee’s ex-husband and his fiancée. Actually, Tessa was pretty sure Merrilee appreciated having an excuse not to sleep under the same roof with Tad Weatherspoon.
Tessa didn’t blame Merrilee at all. Tad left a lot to be desired with his big mouth, hair plugs and spray-on tan. The couple was in the room at the opposite end of the hall.
Moving quietly, Tessa eased her bedroom door closed behind her. She made her way down the hall to the communal bathroom guided by a hall nightlight and one in the bathroom, wincing when one of the floorboards creaked loudly beneath her weight.
She finished her bathroom business and smiled as she washed her hands in the sink that replicated an old-fashioned wash basin. She liked Merrilee’s flannel-and-lace shower curtain. It brought a touch of whimsy and softened all the wood in the room without being overwhelmingly feminine and fussy.
Tessa was returning to her room when Clint opened his door and stepped out.
The hall quite suddenly became very tight quarters since he had obviously rolled out of bed and pulled on just a pair of blue jeans and flannel shirt. His jeans were zipped but his shirt hung open, revealing a broad chest well sculpted with muscle. Like men from many native cultures, he had very little body hair, or at least none she could see on his chest.
Tessa forced herself not to stare in the low lighting but her heart thumped in her chest like a wild thing. She had only thought he was potently sexy before. Now she knew.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, for lack of anything else to say. Something desperately needed to be said, otherwise she’d probably continue to stare at him like a hungry cat eyeing a tin of sardines. For crying out loud, you’d think she’d never seen a man with his shirt open. She had. Plenty of them, in fact. It was just that none of them had been this man and none of them had looked like he did.
“Trouble sleeping?” he asked in a low tone. The shadowed hallway accentuated the angles and planes of his face, the intensity of his dark eyes.
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