Michael (Wild Men #8)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Emery

I step up to the counter at Cowboy Aromas and order an iced latte.

Some days, I go simply for a hot cup of coffee.

But today is a day to celebrate.

Or it will be in—I check the time on my phone—approximately fifteen minutes when I finally get the promotion I’ve worked my ass off for.

I’ve wanted this for so long, and I’ve poured my heart and soul into the advertising company to get it. I take a second glance at my phone—in approximately fifteen minutes and ten seconds from now, the promotion will be mine.

When my order’s ready, I pay the server and turn away from the counter, latte in one hand and phone in the other. I call out goodbye to my aunt, who’s sitting at a table enjoying a book before I head for the exit.

I push open the door, still looking at my phone. As I take a step outside…

“Oomph!” I barrel headlong into someone.

My iced latte flies out of one hand .

My phone sails out of the other.

I cringe when I hear the sound of my phone hitting the pavement. I can’t see anything beyond the solid chest of whomever I’ve unceremoniously slammed into, but I’ve clearly made a mess of things.

“Are you okay?” the voice belonging to Solid Chest asks me.

Using my newly-freed hands as leverage, I push off of said chest and step back.

When I look up, all I see are dark eyes and hair set against the backdrop of the blue Montana sky. The summer sun highlights the man’s face, which is blindingly handsome with a morning shadow.

It’s also familiar.

But I swear I’ve never met him before.

Michael

I’ve got my hand on the doorknob to Cowboy Aromas when the door opens inward and a woman flies forward and directly at me.

I catch her in my arms before she nearly lands flat on her face.

The subtle floral scent hits me. And then, the sensation of her thick midnight hair tickling my chin.

But most of all, I can’t ignore the lurching sensation in my chest.

“Are you all right?” I ask as I help her to straighten up.

Together, we retrieve her phone—which miraculously didn’t break—and then I pick up her spilled drink and throw it into the nearby trash can.

“Oh my gosh—I’m such a klutz!” She breaks into a gorgeous laugh, and her white teeth gleam against her shiny pink lips. “I’m so sorry for nailing you like that. ”

I must look like my usual grouchy self because her cheeks flush pink.

“I’m sorry I ran into you.” She pauses. “You look familiar.”

I was about to say the same thing.

But I know we’ve never met before.

I’d surely remember those blue eyes that swirl with flecks of violet and gray. The long, black hair hanging past her shoulders that looks like it’s been dipped in red paint; the tips are dyed a gorgeous shade of red. Her petite but curvy frame that is accentuated by the sexy denim miniskirt showing off her toned legs.

As she lifts a hand to fiddle with her hair, I notice that she’s got an anchor tattoo on her wrist. That I know I’d remember.

“I’m just visiting Wilcox,” I say immediately. “Maybe I remind you of someone you know.”

“Maybe.”

She sounds unconvinced.

I’m immediately intrigued by her, and without meaning to, my gaze drops to her breasts, which are perky and full.

“ Ask Me Out ,” I read off her long-sleeved pink shirt. I raise my eyes to meet her mischievous ones. “Is that a dare?”

She breaks into another musical laugh. “My friend from college dared me to wear this today. It’s a long story.”

“I bet.” I lean against the brick wall of the coffee shop and do something completely out of my usual. “How about I buy you another drink and you tell me more?”

She smiles at me.

But then her phone rings. She jumps and looks down at the screen.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” Disappointment flashes in her eyes as she looks back up at me, and I know she’s being genuine.

“Another time then.” I step back to let her pass .

She waves goodbye, and like she’s got more energy than she knows what to do with, she nearly dances down the steps and along the sidewalk. I watch her go, not realizing until long after I’ve lost sight of her that I’m smiling like a fool.

By the time I make my way inside the coffee shop, I’m so distracted I nearly forget why I’m here.

But one look at the middle-aged woman waiting for me at a table in the corner has my reason coming back lightning quick.

“Hi, Lynn,” I say as I reach her table.

She puts away her book and stands up immediately. “Michael.” She gives me a warm hug, her long gray hair hanging in a neat braid down her back. “I know you’re in a hurry, so I won’t keep you long.”

“I’ll come see you at the house before I leave town,” I promise her. “I just wanted to give you this right away.” I hand her a paper bag, and she peeks inside.

“Oh, Michael.” She brings her hand to her chest as she looks up at me. “Isn’t this perfect?”

She takes the framed photo out of the bag. I look with her at the picture of my late father smiling next to her late husband, each with fishing poles in their hands. Best friends who worked together on the same boat for years. My dad and Lynn’s husband, Tony, two of the men lost at sea on that stormy night in Maine when their fishing boat went down and never made it back to land.

I was a kid, but sometimes it feels like yesterday. Grief isn’t linear—it comes at you in fits and bursts and hits you right in the heart when you’re not expecting it.

Even when you are expecting it, like right now, sometimes grief can take your damn breath away.

I swallow hard and focus on the story behind the gift. “My mom says that photo was taken just a few months before the accident. She had misplaced it, and she came across it last month. I had a copy made, and I figured I’d deliver it to you in person.”

I skip over the fact that my own boat just nearly went down in an unexpected storm, and the scare was so great I gave my whole crew a month off with pay. I truly couldn’t afford to do that, but Ayden and I found a way to get the funds. He told me nothing was worth my life, and I agreed with him.

So here I am in Montana, trying to get away from the pain of the sea, and yet I took it with me all the same.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you so much. Mimi will love to see it.”

Lynn talks about her sister’s daughter often. She and Tony didn’t have children, and they were both always very close with their niece, who grew up a few towns away from my cousins.

“You’ll have to meet her while you’re here.” She pats my arm. “Are you seeing anyone, Michael?”

She asks me this same question nearly every time we talk, and I always have the same response.

This time, though, the woman I just ran into outside the coffee shop flashes through my mind. I push the thought away.

“No,” I say firmly. “Ayden’s happily married, and I’m happily single.”

“Hmmm.” Lynn studies me.

I squirm under her assessing gaze like I’m still twelve years old, and she’s looking at me like she did on the Maine docks after we learned the boat was never going to dock again.

“You may be single, but you’re not happy about it.” She pats my arm again. “It’s okay to let someone in, you know. It doesn’t make you selfish.”

Except it does. I take one look at her face that can’t mask the loneliness and pain she’s gone through, and I know I’m doing the right thing.

Lynn’s blessed that she grew up in Montana and could pick herself up off the Lucky Bay dock in Maine and move back here after she lost her husband at sea. Most of the wives I know, like my mom, weren’t able to get that fresh start.

They still have to walk by the docks every day and remember the moment their whole world changed. I won’t ever do that to a loved one.

Still, as I step out of Cowboy Aromas into the crisp morning air, the memory of the woman falling into my arms hits me.

And I crack a smile.

I rarely smile.

But I did today.