Haley's Mountain Man

Never in his life had Gavin seen such a smile. Warm and real and … well, sweet and saucy, too. How in heaven’s name had this woman seen anything in him to pique her interest?

Or, for that matter, sit in his living room with a smile?

Those thoughts swirled and spun. He opened his mouth, set to say something—anything.

Swallowing hard, he forced his body to move in Haley’s direction before she noticed his awkwardness. Or worse, commented on his awkwardness.

Lord, he was a mess.

Rattled. Confused. Unshaven. Yup, a mess, and in that second, what he needed the most was to know what motivated Haley Foster to behave in the way she did.

“Why’d you come over here tonight, Haley?”

About the Author

TRACY MADISON lives in northwestern Ohio with her husband, four children, one bear-size dog, one loving-but-paranoid pooch and a couple of snobby cats. Her house is often hectic, noisy and filled to the brim with laugh-out-loud moments. Many of these incidents fire up her imagination to create the interesting, realistic and intrinsically funny characters that live in her stories. Tracy loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at tracy@tracymadison.com.

Haley’s Mountain Man
Tracy Madison

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For many reasons, this story is dedicated to

the friends who make up my extended family.

You know who you are, and you know why.

Thank you for your love, support and belief.

Chapter One

The lazy, hazy days of summer couldn’t get here soon enough. Well, the hazy days, anyway. No one who lived in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, would describe summer as lazy. They would describe now as lazy. Relaxing. Maybe even rejuvenating.

Not Haley Foster. She was, in fact, bored out of her ever-living skull.

Admittedly, an odd state of being. With the hectic winter tourist season behind them and the summer season yet to arrive in full force, she should be enjoying the brief slowdown. She always had in the past. This year, though, she was … restless.

More than that, really. She had this itchy, uncomfortable sense of waiting for something—anything—to happen. What, exactly, she didn’t have a clue. Just … something.

And that was why she couldn’t wait for summer. The tourists would breeze in to spend their vacations white-water rafting, hiking, canoeing, or any one of the many other activities available in the area, and her sleepy town would wake again. She would be busy from sunup to sundown, and wouldn’t have the time to worry about why she felt so off.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair at the Beanery, the local coffee joint, and tried to pay attention to her longtime friend Suzette Solomon. They’d met earlier for a Saturday morning Spinning class. Now, they were supposed to be savoring their reward of yummy hot beverages while catching up on each other’s lives.

Suzette was in the midst of sharing a funny story about one of her fourth-grade students, and while Haley managed to chuckle and insert a comment here and there, mostly she couldn’t pull herself out of her own head long enough to relax. Dammit! She’d really believed that an hour of hard exercise followed up by a solid dose of friend time would ease the edginess.

She’d been wrong.

Why was she so freaking restless? And for that matter, why did she feel as if life were passing her by? She wasn’t old, for crying out loud. At twenty-six, she had plenty of time to do anything she wanted to do. But lately, the days and the nights had seemed interminably long, and even when she was with her family or friends, she had the inexplicable sensation of … loneliness.

Maybe she needed to take up a new hobby. Or buy a pet. Or … When an epiphany failed to strike, she decided to place the full blame on being stuck between seasons. Had to be. Why search for a deeper meaning when the simplest answer was usually the culprit?

Suzette cleared her throat and watched Haley expectantly, apparently waiting for some type of a response. Oh, crap. Was this a laugh, be shocked or commiserate moment? She went with a soft chuckle, hoping that would cover all possible bases.

“Cute story, huh?” Suzette asked, ruffling her short black hair with her fingers.

“So cute,” Haley agreed enthusiastically.

“Yeah? What was your favorite part?”

“Um, honestly, I don’t think I can choose a favorite. The entire story was just adorable, and really, I bet cute and adorable stuff happens every single day in your classroom.”

“Really, Haley?” Suzette gave her a long, semi-amused look. “You’re seriously going to pretend that you didn’t zone out a good five or ten minutes ago?”

Sighing again, Haley offered a faint smile. “I’m sorry. Was I that obvious?”

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have noticed.” Wrapping her hand around her coffee cup, Suzette said, “No worries, though. I know I can go on and on about my students.”

“I like hearing about your students!” And she did. Usually. “I was thinking about how slow the days are, and how I can’t wait for summer to get here so everything can pick up again. That’s all.” Close enough to the truth. As close as she wanted to get, anyway.

“Since when? For almost the entire winter, all I heard was how anxious you were for enough empty hours in the day to read a book, watch a movie, paint your apartment.” She arched a finely plucked eyebrow. “Go out on a few dates. Which, actually, I wanted to ask—”

“I’ve read the books and watched the movies I wanted to, and you helped me paint my apartment. So now, I’m ready for summer.”

“Hmm, yes. But you left one item off of that list. Tell me, how many dates have you racked up in the past few months?”

Wrinkling her nose, Haley sipped her chai tea. Suzette already knew the answer to that question. “My lack of a dating life has nothing to do with my boredom.” Her loneliness, maybe, but she didn’t feel like broaching that topic. “I’m just bored.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you are.”

“You know how it is in between seasons,” she argued, hoping beyond hope that she was right, and that once summer rolled in, these odd feelings would disappear. “Instead of twelve-hour workdays, I barely have enough on my agenda to stay busy for eight.”

Haley’s family owned two businesses in Steamboat Springs. All of the Fosters—Haley, her three older brothers, and their parents—were partners in the running of said businesses. During the winter and summer months, that meant keeping up with her normal duties as well as helping out in the restaurant and in the sporting goods store.

In the spring and fall, though, she was primarily in the office contending with the businesses’ basic accounting needs, updating their websites, and ordering supplies and inventory. Most of which she’d long since mastered, so typically, none of it took very long.

“I do know how it is,” Suzette agreed easily. Her parents were also local business owners, and Suzette had worked at their deli during summers until she’d graduated from college. “Your work schedule isn’t the issue. Or what’s really bothering you, so why don’t we talk about that?”

“Stop.” Forcing a laugh, she wished that Suzette didn’t know her quite so well. In this particular context, anyway. “There isn’t anything else bugging me.”

“You’re in a funk, dating-wise,” Suzette said matter-of-factly, as if Haley hadn’t spoken. “Happens to all of us at one time or another. But as they say, the first step is admitting an issue exists. So, I have an idea to fix your boredom and make a certain someone—”

“Stop,” she repeated, sensing the conversation was headed directly toward blind-date land. “There isn’t an issue. None! And I have no desire to be fixed up with anyone.”

“Even if that guy is cute, sweet and funny?”

“Even if.”

“Intelligent and warmhearted?”

“Even if,” she repeated. “And if he’s that amazing, why aren’t you dating him? Unless. Oh, no, Suzette. You’re not trying to fix me up with one of your leftovers, are you?”

“One date, and not even a real date, and we didn’t even kiss,” she said with a flick of her wrist. “So nope, not a leftover. Promise.”

“Darn close, though. Jeez.”

Letting out a huff, Suzette said, “Just say the words, Haley. Dating. Funk.”

“So speaks the woman who juggles three men on any given weekend.” Haley was only half joking. Her friend always seemed to have a man on each arm.

“Only because I’m not as choosy as you.” Narrow shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “If a nice guy asks me out, I tend to say yes. Whereas you tend to pluck excuses from the air in order to say no.” Bracing her elbows on the table, she rested her chin in her hands. “I have a better question for you. How many dates have you turned down in the past few months?”

Mentally doing the math, Haley frowned. She’d declined a handful of invitations, so what? Lonely was one thing. Dating someone she wasn’t interested in was another. “I don’t see the point in spending an evening with a man based on how nice he is.”

“Because spending an evening with a nice guy is … such a horrible experience?”

“Not at all! He should be nice, obviously, but there should also be something more.”

“Sexual attraction is always a plus, but—”

“I’m not even talking about that,” Haley interrupted. Not that she disagreed. But, “I don’t want to know every detail about a man’s life before we order drinks. I want to be … curious about a man, about what makes him tick.”

And that right there was her real issue. Despite how nice many of the local men were, she just knew them too freaking well for them to hold any real interest. When you could all too easily picture a man swallowing mouthfuls of glue or picking his nose from their elementary school days, it was hard to see him in a different light. Unfair, she knew, but the truth.

Sure, she’d dated plenty in the past. None of those relationships had evolved into anything. Some of those failures she placed squarely on her big brothers’ shoulders. Sweet as they were, they could also be a little too overprotective. The rest … well, the guys had either turned out to be jerks, or there simply hadn’t been enough chemistry.

In other words, unless she moved to another city—which she had absolutely no desire to do—her future love life looked pretty darn bleak.

Maybe she should let Suzette fix her up. The thought was defeating somehow, and for whatever reason, not something she wanted to do. Yeah, she should get a pet.

A cat, maybe. Or ten. Didn’t all spinsters have a houseful of cats?

“Are you saying what I think you are?” Suzette asked, her voice this side of shocked. Perhaps even a little amused. And damn if Haley could figure out where her mind had gone.

“Er, I don’t know,” she said. “What do you think I’m thinking?”

“Are you considering having a summer fling with a hot, hunky tourist or two?”

Laughter burbled out of Haley’s throat. It felt good, even if the thought was ludicrous. “Oh, come on, that is not why I’m ready for summer. You know me better than that.”

“I do, but a girl can hope. Besides, why not?”

She had nothing to say to that. Not one thing.

“It could be fun,” Suzette prodded. “How will you know unless you give it a try?”

“Um, because I do. I’m not interested.” Tourists weren’t around long enough to appeal, and she wanted something more meaningful than a fling. Tired of trying to explain a yearning she didn’t quite understand, she said, “You were right to begin with. I’m too picky.”

“Look, Haley,” Suzette said, her voice becoming serious, “you’re thinking too hard about this! Date a few guys. Have some fun. You don’t have to marry any of them, but it has to better than sitting at home wishing for twelve-hour workdays. Which is rather nuts, you know.”

“I know, but—”

The door flew open and a man entered. Blinking, she watched him stride toward Lola, the owner of the Beanery and, as it so happened, a close friend of Haley’s mother. He held a clipboard in one hand, the other was squeezed into a fist at his side, and every ounce of his body seemed intense and … hard, as if he were prepared for a fight.

She had drawn the same impression when she’d originally met him, back in December. His name was Gavin Daugherty, and he was somewhat of a newcomer to Steamboat Springs. At the time, he’d come into the sports store looking for work as a ski instructor. They hadn’t had any positions available, but her brother Cole had latched onto her interest—curiosity—and for a while, had seemed bent on finding out more about Gavin.

Fortunately, Cole’s attention had become otherwise occupied by his now-fiancée, Rachel Merriday, and he’d seemingly forgotten all about Gavin.

But Haley hadn’t. The man had been on her mind a lot.

Silly, really, as she knew hardly anything about him, and had seen him only a few times since. Curious, she watched as he got into line behind four others to wait his turn. The woman in front of him instantly stepped forward, putting a few more inches of space in between her and him. Gavin stepped forward as well, as folks were apt to do when a line moved. The woman attempted to move up again, but she didn’t have any room left to do so.

Instead, she sidled to the side. Without missing a beat, Gavin retreated a few inches and gestured for the woman to retake her place in line. She didn’t look at him and, rather than moving closer, she stepped another few inches in the opposite direction, and then several more.

A slow burn began inside as Haley put two and two together. She had a sense that people backed away from Gavin often. She supposed that was due in part to his size, as he was a giant of a man. Probably around six-foot-five, he had the build of a linebacker that only began with the wide, muscular breadth of his shoulders. And okay, he could use a haircut and a shave to get rid of the Grizzly Adams look he had going. Even so, his appearance didn’t scare her or make her uneasy. She could see, however, how others might view him as intimidating.

“So what do you say?” Suzette asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Can’t be next weekend, but if I can put something together for the weekend after next, are you game? Please say yes.”

“Um, sure,” Haley said, entirely focused on Gavin. “Whatever, whenever, is fine.”

“That’s great! We’ll have fun, you’ll see. And I know you’ll like Matt.”

“Uh, what?” Returning her attention to her friend, Haley said, “Wait a minute. Who is Matt and why does it matter if I’ll like him or not?”

“Matt is the guy we’ve been talking about. He’s one of the teachers I work with.” Suzette smiled smugly and crossed her arms over her chest. “And you just agreed to a double date.”

“No way, Suzette.” Haley shook her head to back up her words. “I’m not interested in a blind date, double or otherwise.”

“You already agreed,” Suzette said in a singsong voice. “So, tough. I swear, he’s a great guy. And since he didn’t grow up here, you can learn all about what makes him tick. That is what you said you wanted, right?”

Scowling, she pushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “It is, but you’re being unfair. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.” Unable to stop herself, Haley turned to look at Gavin again.

“Yep, but whose fault is that?”

“Mine, but you took advantage.”

“True. I’m holding you to it, though. For your own sake.” Following the direction of Haley’s gaze, she asked, “What is so interesting up there that you can’t stop staring?”

Letting the topic drop—for now—Haley asked, “Do you see that guy?”

“Mr. Mountain Man? Yeah, he’s hard to miss.”

“If you were standing in line with him, would you feel uncomfortable or … threatened?”

Suzette shrugged. “I might, if he looked at me funny. He’s a big guy and look at how he’s standing—all stiff and straight, like he’s rearing up to pounce or something. If he just stood there and ignored me, though, I wouldn’t give him a second thought. Why ask for trouble, right?”

“Exactly.”

“He has a killer body, though,” Suzette mused. “I wonder if he’s hot beneath all that hair. Do you know him?”

“Not really.” Quickly draining the rest of her tea, she stood. “I’m going to get another. Do you want anything?”

“Ah … no. I think I’m good.” Suzette glanced from Haley to Gavin and back again. “Him? You’re interested in that guy? He doesn’t look to be your type.”

Heat suffused Haley’s cheeks. “I want more tea, Suzette. That’s all. And how do you know what my type is, anyway? I don’t even know what my type is.”

Suzette regarded her silently for a few seconds before donning a bright smile. “I know that Matt is your type, and I know you’ll enjoy meeting him.”

“I’m … Oh. The hell with it. Fine, I’ll go.” Simpler to agree than to continue to argue a case she wouldn’t win. Besides which, she was allergic to cats. “One time only. End of discussion.”

“For now, but you might change your mind after meeting Matt.” Twisting her wrist to look at her watch, she made a face. “I have to run. Plans tonight and a lot to do beforehand.”

“You can’t stay for a little longer?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. Even if I could, I’m not up to feeling like a third wheel.” Standing, Suzette gave her a quick hug. “It probably won’t be this week, because Matt’s heading home to see his family for a few days, but once I have the details set for our double date, I’ll call.”

“Yay,” Haley said with zero enthusiasm. “Can’t wait.”

“Okay, I have to run.” She gave one more question-filled glance toward Gavin before saying, “Just … ah … be careful. With your tea.”

Haley opened her mouth to argue—again—but snapped it shut. There was something to be said about protesting too much. Rather, she simply smiled and waved goodbye. Once Suzette had exited the Beanery, she expelled a breath and smoothed her shirt. Resisted the impulse to do the same with her hair, and pushed herself forward … toward the mountain man.

Just out of curiosity’s sake, she assured herself. Nothing more than that. Because Suzette had been right on the money—Gavin Daugherty was not her type. He was, in fact, the physical opposite of every man she had ever dated. Taller, bigger, gruffer.

He intrigued her, though, which was something a man hadn’t done in a long, long while. The thought was … compelling.

Almost irresistibly so.

Chapter Two

Crowds in general made Gavin Daugherty uneasy. Being around too many folks at once brought on a plethora of miserable sensations. Out of nowhere, his throat would grow scratchy and dry, his palms would sweat and even the collar of his shirt went on attack, tightening incrementally around his neck until he found a way to get the hell out of dodge.

Exactly the reasons he’d chosen midmorning to arrive at the Beanery. He’d hoped to hit the sweet spot and find the place near empty. Rather, it being a Saturday and all—a fact he should’ve considered—the coffee shop was teeming with people. When he first walked in, he’d had half a mind to turn around and try for better luck on Monday.

Truth was, though, he’d already waited too damn long. He should have been on top of this months ago. So, like it or not—and he didn’t—here he was, waiting in the slowest-moving line on earth to speak with Lola, mentally rehearsing the speech he’d spent the past several weeks preparing, and trying not to spook the lady to the front and right of him again.

Asking anyone for anything was about as far out of Gavin’s comfort range as standing in the middle of the busy coffee shop, but he had to do it. If he had any hope of his plan succeeding, he couldn’t sit back and wait for his entire lousy life to do a one-eighty without putting forth any effort. The thought had no more crossed his mind before he changed it. Much of his life had hit below the lousy line, but not all of it. Not by a long shot.

Now … well, now was fairly decent. And he couldn’t forget Russ and Elaine Demko or the gifts they’d given him, either. God, he hated thinking that both of them were gone.

Little had his scruffy, twelve-year-old self known how fortunate he was to be placed with them, or how much he would come to love them. Yep, he’d been headed down the wrong path at full speed when Russ and Elaine became his foster parents, and damn if he knew how, but they’d seen clear through his tough act and shown him what family, and being a part of one, meant.

He’d stayed with them only for a little over two years before they’d decided to move out of state. Work-related, he’d been told. They hadn’t forgotten him, though, and had kept in touch on holidays and his birthday and a letter here and there. It had hurt, sure, but he’d found some peace in knowing they cared, that they were out there somewhere, still caring.

Elaine had died several years back, from cancer. Russ just about two years ago now, from a heart attack. Or, more likely, heartbreak. And he’d gone and left Gavin some money. Not a little and not a lot, but some. Enough to buy some land. Enough to situate himself, to get started here, in Steamboat Springs, where Russ and Elaine had brought Gavin a time or two while he’d lived with them. Good days. Good memories.

He’d rather have Russ and Elaine.

Gavin stifled a sigh tinged with sadness and relief when the damn line finally moved forward by one. Lola, she liked to chat up her customers, that was for sure. Good business sense combined with a naturally friendly nature, he supposed.

Before stepping forward, he darted a glance toward the right, curious if enough space now existed for the woman to retake her place in front of him. That would be a … no. She inched herself up but maintained her hovering-to-the-side position as if her very life depended on it.

Accustomed to the behavior or not, it rankled.

His clothes were clean and well kept, if not brand-spanking-new. He was clean and … well, relatively well kept, though a shave probably wouldn’t be out of order. He hadn’t said a word to the woman, for crying out loud. So yes, it disturbed him, the way folks stepped out of his path when they saw him coming or refused to look him in the eye. And when little old ladies clutched their purses to their chests and watched him in a mix of distrust and fear, he just about died inside. He was used to it, but he wanted more.

Stupid to think Steamboat Springs, Colorado, would be any different. It wasn’t. Folks here treated him the same as they did anywhere else, except for a handful of them. Lola being one, which was why he’d decided to start with her. He wasn’t about to give up.

Someday, he’d walk these streets and folks would raise their hands and say hi. Someday, he’d have a place here. Not just for him, but for boys stuck in the system, as he had once been. A sanctuary, albeit a temporary one, where he hoped to make some type of a difference for these kids. Just as Russ and Elaine had done for him.

That was his goal: to open a camp of sorts, for boys who didn’t have real homes, where they’d learn to ski, go on hikes, sit outside around a campfire. Somehow, and he wasn’t quite sure how, he wanted to show these kids what Russ and Elaine had taught him—that life kept moving, changing, morphing from one thing to another. Bad now didn’t mean bad later. And he couldn’t figure a better way than sharing his love of the outdoors.

Being outside, whether working or playing, had often helped Gavin feel that he was a part of something bigger, better, than whatever was going on in that moment. He’d like to pass that feeling—belief—on, if he could. And no, he didn’t have all the details or specifics worked out, but he would. In time.

That was the promise he’d made to himself when he’d received the check from Russ’s estate, when he’d read the letter Russ had written to him.

Turned out, the Demkos had wanted to adopt him, along with the other boy who’d been staying with them, and had actually tried to sort through the red tape before Russ’s job had taken them to Massachusetts. Bad luck that they’d run out of time before they’d run out of red tape, forcing them to give up. Bad luck, as well, that Gavin’s mother had chosen that exact moment to get her act together long enough to go for another chance at raising her son.

A chance she’d ruined within months. She’d had more chances, later, down the road. All of which had amounted to a big, fat pile of nothing. Just like always.

But that letter from Russ—the sheer fact of knowing that the Demkos had wanted him as their legal son—had arrived in the nick of the time. Gavin had been in Aspen, fighting with himself over a decision. And that letter. Well, Russ’s words had once again altered his view of himself, of what he wanted out of life, and had pulled him off the disastrous path he’d come too close to taking. So yeah, he owed Russ and Elaine. Owed them the best he could give.

More than that, he owed himself.

Lost in the past as he was, in his hopes for the future, Gavin didn’t realize when someone else stepped into line behind him. It was the voice that filtered into his thoughts. A female voice, warm and sultry, and somehow effervescent, that broke his concentration. For a beat, he stood there and soaked in that voice, let it seep into his soul and calm his ragged emotions.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” the female said again, louder this time, more insistent. He half turned to see who was speaking and to whom, because while he’d been mistaken for many things, not a one of them had ever been a “ma’am.” Thank God for that.

Ah. Haley Foster. The sweetheart of Steamboat Springs, live and in person. He knew who she was, of course, from the sporting goods store he’d tried to get a job at, but also by reputation. In this town, the Fosters were well liked, well respected and very much involved in … well, it seemed like just about everything. And while he didn’t know for sure, he thought Haley was the baby of the family. Her brothers, from the few times Gavin had seen them, appeared to be older.

But who knew? He’d never been that great at guessing age. If he were to take a stab, though, he’d put her on the lower end of the twenties. Maybe midtwenties, but surely no older.

Something inside sort of tightened as he appraised her. Her long, auburn hair was up in one of those contraptions only females knew how to use, forming a loose knot that wasn’t completely doing the job it was meant for. Escaped tendrils framed her face in a messy yet no less appealing sort of way. Her eyes, a riveting combination of smoke and willow and fog—green but not all-the-way green—were aimed at the woman he’d somehow spooked.

“Ma’am,” she repeated. “Are you in line or …?”

The woman, apparently catching on that she was being spoken to, tilted her chin in Haley’s direction. “Yes,” she said. “Of course I’m in line.”

Haley widened those riveting eyes of hers in a darn good imitation of surprise. “Oh. Um, you do realize that you’re not actually standing in line, though. Right? I mean, I thought you were just looking at the menu, the way you’re so far off to the side like that.”

“I’m in line,” the woman repeated. “Sorry for your confusion.”

“Confusion?” Shaking her head, Haley gave the distance between the woman and Gavin and assessing glance. “Nope, not confused. In fact, I would say you’re a good foot or so off from actually being in the line. Maybe more.” She nudged—nudged—Gavin’s arm. “Wouldn’t you say that’s about a foot? More or less?”

And damn if he didn’t have to work hard not to laugh out loud at the woman’s expression. “Easily a foot. More or less,” he confirmed.

Without another word, the woman eased herself into line. And Haley … well, she winked at him, and muttered something about ignorance he couldn’t quite make out under her breath.

He knew it was dumb. He knew it didn’t mean a damned thing. But the fact was, the sweetheart of Steamboat Springs, Colorado, had just done something only two other people in his life had ever before done. She’d stood up for him. And that made her different.

What was that word Russ would use to describe Elaine? Gumption. That was it. “Boy,” he’d say, usually after Elaine had rightly torn into his hide about one thing or the other, “that woman’s got gumption, and a woman with gumption is a helluva lot more important ten, twenty, thirty years down the road than anything else she might have once had. Remember that.”

And yep, he’d remembered. Now, looking at Miss Haley Foster and the spunky, satisfied grin she wore, it was easy to see that she was damn near overflowing with the stuff, with gumption. Before he went and said something to that effect, or something equally ridiculous, he gave her a quick nod and faced front again.

Not being able to see her didn’t wipe the look of her out of his head, though. He felt her, too, in every ounce of his body, deeper than bone. Not so different, really, than the warmth of the sun saturating into his skin. Natural. Life-affirming. Real.

He let those words tumble around for all of thirty seconds before booting them out. She was a woman he didn’t know—not really—and she didn’t know him. So nope, she hadn’t stood up for him, she’d asked a damn question. That was all. And comparing her physical presence to the friggin’ sun? Where had that idiotic thought come from, anyway?

Didn’t matter. None of it.

What did matter was obtaining Lola’s assistance. Gavin returned his focus to that and started mentally rehearsing his speech again, all the while pretending that the warm buzz cascading over him, through him, had nothing to do with the female standing behind him.

Not one damn thing.

Gavin’s flannel-shirt-covered back, every long and broad muscular inch of it, was so still, Haley couldn’t determine if the man was even breathing. Disappointment, sharp and strong, cut into the anticipation that had been fizzing and popping in her blood. What had she thought would happen? That they’d strike up a conversation because she’d confronted the standoffish woman?