Second Chances (Nugget Romance 3) (21 page)

“Harlee”—he lifted her chin—“I may be a lot of things, but a smooth talker isn’t one of them.” He covered her mouth with his and took what he wanted. All of it.

And hours later, with their dinners cold on the table, they fell asleep together in Colin’s big log bed.

T
he following week, Harlee and Colin used their trucks to deliver Samantha’s furniture. Griffin also offered to help, lending his Range Rover to the cause. So the three vehicles, packed to the rooftops, caravanned down Grizzly Peak to Sierra Heights, where Sam waited to begin moving in.

Harlee looked forward to seeing what Sam had done to the place. A lot of people in Nugget were talking about how she was investing too much time and money painting and decorating a mere rental. But Harlee suspected that neither time nor money meant much to Sam, since she had plenty of both.

Luckily, the weather was cooperating. And with four sets of hands, Harlee hoped they could get all of Colin’s pieces inside the house and assembled before nightfall. Colin had been putting in long hours at Sophie and Mariah’s job site, but had managed to sneak away early enough to make good on his promise to deliver her purchases.

When they got there, the house had already been half furnished with comfy sofas, overstuffed leather chairs, a flat-screen TV, and lots of rugs and pictures on the walls. Sam had even managed to hang window treatments in the master bedroom, which looked custom-made.

“Wow.” Harlee turned in circles. “The place is gorgeous.”

“I love it,” Sam said, her mouth spreading into a wide smile. “I bought a mattress, so if we get the bed set up tonight this will be my first time sleeping here.”

“You’ve been staying at the inn all this time?” Jeez, the woman’s pockets went even deeper than Harlee thought.

“Maddy gave me a discount, of course—now that I’m working there.”

Colin and Griffin carried pieces of the canopy part of the bed inside and went back out to get the rest. The women joined them, toting in dresser drawers and dining room chairs. Within an hour they had everything unloaded and Colin worked in the master suite, putting the new bed together, while Sam gave Harlee the rest of the tour. The large home, with its soaring cathedral ceilings and walls of glass, had magnificent views of the golf course and the surrounding mountains. It was a prime piece of property for Griff to tie up. But Harlee supposed renting it out served a better purpose financially than letting the house collect cobwebs.

She wondered if Griff might be interested in Sam, given that he was at loose ends with Lina. They seemed to get along great, but Griff had a knack for making friends and making everyone around him feel included.

She had definitely noticed that Colin had refrained from being too friendly to Sam, obviously taking Harlee’s feelings into consideration, which showed what a wonderful man he was. If Harlee wasn’t careful, she’d let herself fall in love with him. She was already more than halfway there.

While the three of them stood in the loft, where Griffin tried to talk Sam into putting a pool table, a knock sounded at the door.

“Can’t imagine who that could be,” Sam said, racing down the stairs. She and Griffin followed. Harlee wanted to check on Colin’s progress and see if he needed any help.

Nate stood at the threshold, looking mildly put out. “I couldn’t find the keys,” he said to Griffin.

“Damn, I forgot. They’re in the Range Rover. Hang on a sec.” Griffin jogged out the door.

Nate stood there, his hands shoved inside his pants pockets, craning his neck to get a look inside. “You painted?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “Would you care to come in?”

“Just for a few minutes,” he said, but Harlee could tell he was curious.

“Where’s your house, Nate?” she asked.

He lifted his chin and pointed to the house next door, annoyed. “I guess everyone wants on the golf course.”

“Why does Griffin have your keys?” Harlee asked, knowing that Nate’s house closed weeks ago.

“There was some work that still needed to be done as part of the sales agreement.” Nate wandered around the front rooms, taking in Sam’s touches. “That Colin’s table and chairs?”

Harlee nodded. “Colin’s in the master, assembling one of his beds.”

Nate seemed to know the floor plan, because he headed to the back of the house to the bedroom and popped his head in the door. “Hey, Colin.”

Colin looked up from what he was doing and grunted a hello. “Help me with the mattress, would you?”

Nate slipped in and started taking the plastic off the mattress while Colin piled his tools in the corner. Together, they hefted the bed onto the frame and stood back to look at it.

Harlee popped her head inside and said, “It’s fantastic.” Initially, she’d feared that the large bed might dwarf the room, but it fit beautifully. Sam had already put the dresser kitty-corner to the bathroom, and Colin got the nightstand out of the walk-in closet and placed it next to the bed.

“You have any of these without the canopies?” Nate gave the bed frame a shake to test its sturdiness. “I’m sleeping on an air mattress.”

“I’ve got a four-poster with your name on it,” Colin said. “You up from San Francisco for the week?”

“Yep. I thought I’d break in the new pad and spend some time with Lilly.”

“She’s a pretty girl,” Colin said. “Your place look like this?”

“Similar floor plan, but my furniture consists of a lawn chair, a card table, and a bed that leaks air. Will you deliver and set mine up too?”

“Yep,” Colin said. “But you’ve got to get your own mattress.”

“It’s a deal. Come by the inn and I’ll write you a check.”

Sam wedged her way into the room and Harlee feared that Colin might be feeling a little hemmed in. She caught his eye and he must’ve read her concern, because he nodded a silent signal that he was okay.

“It’s fabulous,” Sam squealed.

She scurried into the walk-in closet and came out with bags of bedding and matching throw pillows. This time Nate did roll his eyes.

“I’ve got to get going,” he said.

“Griffin left your keys on the new hall tree,” Sam said. “He had to get to the Gas and Go for an appointment.”

“All right.” Before Nate left, he said, “Maddy is taking the day off tomorrow for a doctor’s appointment. Make sure you’re on time.”

Sam straightened from putting the mattress cover on the bed. “I’m always on time.”

“Good. Then there shouldn’t be a problem.” Nate avoided her glare and turned to Colin and Harlee. “See you guys.”

Sam waited until she was sure Nate had left and said, “I don’t know what I did to that man, but he sure doesn’t like me.”

Harlee had to wonder herself. Nate didn’t seem rude by nature, but humiliating Sam like that . . .

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Colin said, clearly trying to downplay Nate’s behavior. “Nate’s a good guy, but sometimes he comes off a little strong. It probably comes from running so many hotels. But Maddy is the one in charge of the inn and she’s good people.”

Colin wrapped his arm around Harlee. “I hope you enjoy your new furniture. The place looks great. But I’ve got to get my girl home now and make her dinner.”

If Harlee was more than halfway to loving him before, she was all the way now.

 

Wyatt wanted a haircut and Darla wanted to throw him out of her shop. But business was business. It wouldn’t do her any good to refuse service to one of Nugget’s finest. For that reason she plastered a smile on her face and led him to the shampoo bowl.

“Uh, I just washed my hair this morning,” he said.

“I’m not a barber, Wyatt. I’m a stylist. We cut hair wet.”

“All right then.” He sat there, his body tight as a bowstring, as she rubbed shampoo into his scalp.

“Relax, Wyatt. Most people enjoy this.”

“I’m enjoying it.” And sure enough, in his lap was proof.

“You’re disgusting, Wyatt.”

“You told me to relax and enjoy it.” He grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Does your little blond girlfriend know that you’re popping boners all over town?”

“Not all over town. Only in your shop, Darla. And what little blond girlfriend? You’re the last blond girlfriend I’ve had.” He stared up at her pink hair. “Why do you do that?”

“What?” Oops. She accidentally sprayed his face with the hose. How unprofessional.

He grabbed a towel off the shampoo bar and wiped suds out of his eyes. “You’ve got the prettiest hair. Why do you need to dye it all those crazy colors?”

“Because I like to and that’s reason enough for me. So who’s the blonde you’re always groping on the square?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Darla.”

She wrapped his head in a turban, made sure to knot it extra tight, and guided him back to her chair. “What do you want? A crew cut?”

He stared back at her in the mirror. “Just an inch off.”

She had a good mind to shave him bald, but he really did have nice hair. Thick and shiny with a little bit of curl. She cleaned up his neckline, rounding out his tapered nape, and snipped around his ears, careful to keep his natural arch. Otherwise poor Wyatt would look like Dumbo.

“Tessa?”

“No, I’m Darla.”

“I’ve been racking my brain over who you’re talking about. Is Tessa who you saw me with?”

“I don’t know her name, Wyatt.”
I just know that she’s skinny and drives a station wagon.
“Volvo.”

Wyatt grinned. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s not my girlfriend and I definitely wasn’t groping her.”

“Well, it looked that way to me. You want it thinned out?”

“A little, yeah. Tessa’s my best friend’s wife.”

Darla lowered the chair a smidge and busted out her thinning shears. “Uh-huh. There’s like a million country-western songs about men doing their best friends’ wives. Why should you be any different?”

“Ah, that’s just low, Darla. When have you ever known me to be a cheat?”

“You’ve got me there,” she said, snipping away. “When I knew you, you were a runner, not a cheater. When the going got rough, Wyatt Lambert got going.”

The room went so quiet that Darla could almost hear wisps of Wyatt’s hair hitting the floor.

“I screwed up, Darla. Not a day goes by when I don’t regret it.”

“Really? You ever think about picking up the phone and saying, ‘Darla, I’m sorry I ran out on you during the lowest point of your life?’ ” She watched him in the mirror drop his eyes. “I guess not.”

“I was eighteen years old, Darla.”

“Did you pick up the phone when you were twenty? How about twenty-four? No, you waited until I came back to town, when you’d have to see me every day.”

“It was wrong,” he said. “But sometimes, when you don’t know how to right a wrong, you don’t do anything at all. It’s not an excuse. It sucks. And I’d do anything to go back in time and do right by you. Anything.”

She flipped on the blow dryer as much to tune him out as to dry his hair. After she finished, Darla blew warm air over his neck to get rid of the loose hairs and turned his chair around so he could see the back of his head with a hand mirror. “All done,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s the thing, Darla. I don’t think we are. Not by a long shot.” He slapped a couple of bills down on her workstation, grabbed his jacket, and left.

 

Pleased with the progress on Sophie and Mariah’s house, Colin cut out early Friday, swung by McCreedy Ranch to check out the new appliances Emily had ordered, and stopped at the Nugget Market on his way home to pick up dog food and fixings for dinner. He sat in his truck, watching the entrance of the grocery store for about twenty minutes, waiting for a pack of customers to thin out before going inside. For the most part the market only got really busy in summer, when tourists flocked to the Sierra to take advantage of the great outdoors. But today it seemed to Colin that every person in Nugget had come to do their last-minute weekend shopping.

He hadn’t returned to the acupuncturist since before Christmas, feeling that the whole ordeal had been a waste of time. Harlee had already begun looking into other possible cures for Colin’s demophobia and wasn’t likely to give up until he could handle a sold-out sports arena. The woman could be crazy determined when she got her mind stuck on something.

With the holidays behind them, she’d ramped up her job search and Colin knew it was only a matter of time before she’d leave Nugget to go off to a big metropolitan newspaper somewhere. Colin was good at compartmentalizing. He’d had to be to survive prison life. But now he wondered whether he’d be able to simply file Harlee away in the “short-lived winter romance” box. Then again, what choice did he have? He couldn’t keep her from chasing her dream and he couldn’t go with her.

Colin wheeled his cart down the dairy aisle when he almost collided with Griffin, who looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Griffin bobbed his head in greeting. “What up?”

“I got nothin’. You?”

“Nothing.” Griffin shook his head.

Colin wanted to say,
“Then how come you look like shit?”
But it wasn’t like they were pals or anything. Griffin was an okay guy. That is when he wasn’t hanging around with Harlee. Even though Colin knew they were just friends, because Harlee befriended everyone she met, it rankled him to no end that they sometimes trucked together. At least Darla always seemed to be with them. The gruesome threesome.

“Want to get a beer?” Griffin asked.

That knocked Colin for a loop. He didn’t think anyone in Nugget had asked him that before. Not because people here weren’t sociable, but Colin had made sure to steer clear of those kinds of invitations. Everyone knew he was a loner. Besides, he didn’t drink. He looked at Griffin again—assessed him the best he could without staring. Bloodshot eyes. Crazy hair. Wrinkled clothes that looked like he’d slept in them. Colin wondered if the guy had gone on a bender.

“My milk will go bad,” he said, indicating the jug in his cart, which he hadn’t even paid for yet. Griffin absently nodded his head, like he was lost, defeated, or both, making Colin feel guilty. “You want to come over to my place? I’ll grab a six-pack.”