Merry & Wild (The Wilds of Montana #0.5)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

JOY

I swear to God, I’ve broken out in a cold sweat, and I can no longer hear the music blaring around us. Did I just say that out loud ? To the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my entire life?

I’m so lame.

“Is that so?” John leans a shoulder on the wall, looking so tall and casual in his jeans and button-down, so calm and collected as he watches me with humor-filled brown eyes that I could just get lost in.

“You know what? I think I’m done embarrassing myself for one night. It was good to see you, John. I’m sure I’ll run into you around town.”

I nod and try to walk away, but he catches my elbow in his grasp.

“Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m sorry if I made you feel like that. It’s just not every day that a woman says something like that to me.”

“Right,” I mutter, looking down at the gorgeous shoes that I wish I hadn’t worn. They’re killing me. “I’m sure you hear it a lot.”

“What’s that? I can’t hear you over Huey Lewis and the News.”

I laugh at that. “I didn’t say anything.”

“John!” A teenager who looks a lot like John comes running up to him and tugs on his shirtsleeve. “Hey, can I just stay with Sarah Beth tonight? We can just walk to her place later, after the dance.”

She bites her lip, watching him hopefully.

“Yeah, that’s fine, but be sure to call home to let the parents know. Just call me tomorrow when you’re ready to come home.”

“Totally awesome,” she says and kisses her brother’s cheek. “You’re a rad brother, you know?”

“Don’t you forget it,” he says with a wink before she hurries off, and then he turns to me. “Well, looks like I don’t have a reason to stay here, and since we can’t hear each other well, would you be interested in blowing this off? We could get pizza or something.”

I absolutely, positively will not say no to that offer.

“That actually sounds fun. I just have to go to my car and change my shoes.”

He grins and offers me his arm, which I take, feeling the muscles of his biceps bulge under my hand.

John Wild has wicked muscles.

It must be from all the ranch work.

“I’m parked over there,” I say, pointing to my little Honda Civic.

“That car isn’t made for snow,” he says with a scowl.

“It has front-wheel drive,” I counter, “and I like it.”

“Hmm,” is all he says when we reach the little white car. I unlock the driver’s side with my key, then get in to change from my heels to my boots. I even remembered to bring socks along, which makes me quite happy.

Once my feet are finally warm and in footwear that won’t make me break my neck, I step out of the car once more and lock the door with my key.

“Why don’t we walk?” I ask, blinking through the heavy snowfall. “It’s not that cold, and Old Town Pizza isn’t far from here.”

“Are you sure you’ll be warm enough in that dress?” He doesn’t look convinced as he looks me up and down.

“One minute. You have to turn your back.”

He raises an eyebrow but does as I ask as I unlock the car once more. I slip inside and shut the door, then wiggle out of the dress and replace it with the jeans and sweatshirt that I had in a gym bag in the back seat. After I’ve slipped the boots and coat back on again, I step out of the car and see that John still has his back to me.

“Okay, you can look now.”

“Do you keep an entire closet in the back seat of that tiny car?”

“No.” I laugh as I lock it once again and step away from it, shuffling through the soft snow. “I had extra clothes in the car because I’d planned to go to Jazzercise the other day, but I never made it. Now I’m glad I didn’t.”

“ I’m glad that no one else was out here to watch you change your clothes.”

“I was quick,” I assure him as we slip on gloves, and then he takes my hand once we’re on a recently shoveled sidewalk. “I missed Bitterroot Valley so much. I love it when it snows like this, huge flakes that make the air feel still. It’s so quiet. ”

“That’s because everyone’s at the fire hall,” he says with a smile. “But yeah, I know what you mean. Hey, you need to be on the inside.”

He shifts me to the other side of the sidewalk, away from the street.

“I hardly think that someone is going to jump the curb and take us out.”

“You never know,” is all he says in reply.

“I have to admit, I feel kind of guilty. You had just arrived and hadn’t taken more than ten steps inside, and then I monopolized you. You didn’t even get to see anyone else.”

“I didn’t want to be there in the first place,” he admits, shaking his head. “Missy wanted to go, and there was no way she was going to drive herself into town on snowy roads. It’s too dangerous.”

“So, you brought her so she could enjoy the time with her friends?”

“Yeah. It’s not easy being a ranch kid. You live so far out of town that you sacrifice a lot of time with friends if you can’t catch a ride. If I’m not busy, I’ll bring her. She didn’t ask to be born into a ranching family.”

“Don’t look now, but I’d say you’re pretty sweet, Mr. Wild.”

That makes him laugh as he leads me up the walkway to Old Town Pizza, which has been my favorite restaurant in town since I was a kid.

It’s warm and smells delicious inside when we walk through the door. Garlic and tomatoes hang heavy in the air, and we’re greeted with a happy smile by Heather, the hostess and daughter of the owner.

“Hi there, table for two?”

“Yes, please,” John says with a nod. “How are you, Heather?”

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s kind of bogus that I have to work tonight and didn’t get to go to the party with Melissa and Sarah Beth, but oh well.”

She shows us to a booth by the windows and sets menus in front of us.

“What can I getcha to drink?”

“Just water for me,” I reply.

“Me, too, for now,” John says before Heather hurries away. “What do you like on your pizza?”

“Pepperoni.”

He waits, and I shrug.

“That’s it?”

“What do you like?”

“Everything,” he says. “Okay, I know what we’re going to do. Here she comes.”

Heather sets our waters down and pulls out a notepad. “Since I’m alone in here tonight, except for my dad in the kitchen, I’ll take your order. What’ll you have?”

“Large deep dish,” John begins, “half pepperoni, half supreme. Breadsticks, too.”

“And a salad,” I put in. “With ranch.”

“You got it,” Heather replies. “Be back in a few.”

“It smells good in here,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I haven’t been in here in years. I always do takeout.”

“Me, too,” he says. “Now, enough of the small talk. I have questions.”