The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley Book 5) Read online

  “Okay, Dad.” I patted his chest, trying to stop him before he got all worked up, but he kept on ranting, drawing attention from a couple of dancers close by.

  “Remember that time Jessica Cummings wrote that mean note about you in sixth grade and got caught passing it in class? Not a lot of kids would have let that go. Not to mention the fact that you then volunteered to be her debate partner because no one else could stand the little brat.”

  “Dad,” I scolded. “Jessica wasn’t so bad.” She’d called me a bug-eyed goody two-shoes in the note, but she’d apologized the next day. We’d partnered for debate and had actually become friends until we’d lost touch after high school. I wonder what she’s doing these days. Tomorrow I’d send her a Facebook message and say hello.

  “My point is, you’re one of the most loving—one of the strongest—people I know.”

  I smiled. “You’re just biased.”

  “I am. But I’m damn right too.”

  “Thanks.” I hugged him tighter as we finished our dance.

  When the song ended, I looped my arm through his and let him escort me back to our table, where Mom was into another glass of champagne with Sabrina’s mom. Both were laughing and talking too loudly.

  “Uh-oh,” Dad muttered.

  “You can say that again. You’d better cut Mom off soon or she’s never going to be able to host brunch in the morning.”

  “I think you’re right.” He let me go and walked to the back of Mom’s chair, gently rubbing her shoulders. Dad wouldn’t be cutting her off. He’d let Mom indulge as much as she wanted and take her home. Then tomorrow morning, he’d wake her up with coffee, orange juice and painkillers.

  And I would be setting my alarm two hours earlier than planned so I could get to their house first and help Mom with brunch.

  Grabbing my chair, I spun it around from the table so I could watch people on the dance floor. About two seconds later, Gigi came up from behind and slid a chair next to mine.

  “Champagne?” she asked me, reaching behind us for the bottle.

  “No, thanks. If I have any more I’ll have a miserable headache in the morning.”

  She filled the glass she’d brought over and then got out her phone from her dress’s pocket. “How effing cute is that?” She started snapping pictures of the dance floor where Jess was dancing with his daughters, spinning and twirling them around so they would giggle.

  “Totally effing cute. He’s so good with them.”

  She smiled. “Yes, he is.”

  A pang of envy hit hard. It wasn’t the first tonight.

  I wanted a fancy wedding to a man who looked at me like I’d hung the moon. I wanted more kids. Maybe a little girl who I could dress up with frilly dresses and precious slippers. Or another boy who would idolize his big brother. I wanted a man like my dad who would move mountains to make his family happy.

  It scared me a bit that when I pictured all of that in my daydreams, the man at my side was Hunter. We were so new, so many things could go wrong, but I was keeping my fingers crossed. I was holding out hope that he was the good man I’d been waiting for.

  “How was the rest of your week?” Gigi asked.

  I tore my eyes away from the crowded dance floor and smiled at my friend. “Good actually. Very productive.”

  I’d busted my butt to get through my to-do list early in the week so I could help with all the wedding stuff over the past two days. Sleep had been sparse but it had been worth it to check all the boxes on a couple of lists.

  The room I’d painted with Hunter was now done and ready for the reservations scheduled next week. The housekeeper’s room was all set up so he had a place to stay. I’d even managed to fit in a quick trip to Bozeman to buy him a new mattress, bedding and a flat-screen to mount on the wall.

  “I worry about how hard you work.” Gigi leaned, our shoulders touching.

  I leaned back. “I like to work hard. It gives me a lot of satisfaction to know that I’m the reason for the inn’s success.”

  “I know and I’m so proud of you. But I just . . .” She trailed off and sat back in her chair. “Never mind.”

  “Just what?”

  She sighed. “I just don’t want the motel to be the significant other in your life. I want you to find a piece of that.” She swung her hand out to the dance floor where more of our friends had joined Jess and her daughters.

  Silas and Felicity were dancing with Victoria between them. Nick was carefully twirling Emmeline and her pregnant belly around. Sara was laughing hysterically at Milo, who was trying to impress her with his goofy dance moves.

  It was fitting that the band was rocking a love song.

  “Sorry,” Gigi said before I could respond. “Forget I said anything. These weddings always make me feel sappy.”

  I turned my head and smiled. “Don’t be sorry.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have said anything. I told you that I’d stop pushing. So this is me officially no longer pushing.”

  I reached behind us and grabbed the bottle to top off her champagne.

  “Thanks,” she said. “So what’s happening with Michael and the new vet?”

  “Oh, he’s in lurv,” I swooned.

  “Any fool can see that. I’d say that lurv goes both ways.”

  Michael and Alana were sitting alone at a table in the back of the room. They were pressed so closely together she was practically on his lap. “You’re right about that. I’m betting we’ll be at their wedding next.”

  “Hmm. Interesting.” She tapped her chin. “I don’t know. I’ve got a feeling we’ll have another one before them.

  “Really, who?” I looked around, inspecting all the couples. Everyone here was married or single and a long ways off from finding “the one.”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.” Gigi held out her hand for a shake. “I’ll take your bet. Winner buys pedicures for us both?”

  My hand fitted with hers. “Done.”

  I glanced back at Michael and Alana again. They were sneaking out the door hand in hand. Gigi saw it too—that and my smug grin.

  I was totally getting a free spa treatment.

  Gigi and I visited for a while until Jess came over and claimed her for a dance. I spent the rest of the evening laughing with friends and family. When midnight rolled around, the party was getting rowdy and the free bar was running low on whiskey.

  I moved to a quieter table at the back of the room and I held a sleeping Coby as I watched the party with a wide grin.

  “How are you doing, sweetheart?” Mom appeared at my side, her words slurring.

  “I think you’d better sit down, Mom.” Her swaying was making me nervous.

  “Good idea.” She plopped into the chair next to mine.

  “Did you have fun?”

  She hummed and rested her head on my shoulder. “So much fun. I’m so happy for Beau.”

  “Me too.”

  “I hope they have a baby soon. Coby’s so big now, I want another grandbaby for my rocking chair.”

  I smiled down at my son and stroked his soft brown hair. No matter how big he got, he’d always be my baby boy.

  Mom yawned. “When you and Hunter get married, will you promise to give me more grandbabies? I want a lot.”

  My fingers stilled in Coby’s hair. “Mom, we’re not even dating.” The last thing I needed was Mom thinking we were a serious couple and spreading that around town. “Please don’t tell people about him. Okay? Not until I actually know if this thing is going to go anywhere.” I waited for an answer. “Mom?”

  She had passed out on my shoulder. Smiling, I shook my head and went back to people watching. Bridesmaid by day, human pillow by night.

  “Who needs a date when I have you two?”

  Earlier this week, Mom had begged me to ask Hunter to the wedding but I’d repeatedly told her no. Hunter and I needed some definition before I brought him around my family and friends. I wanted some time for things between us to develop.
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br />   The last time I’d brought a man home to my family, things hadn’t worked out so well.

  Stupid Everett.

  I’d invited Everett to my family’s home for Christmas. At the time, things between us had been rocky and I’d been on the verge of dumping him. I’d actually marched over to his house one night, ready to break it off, but he’d been apologetic and sweet. I’d thought we’d turned a corner in our relationship so I’d invited him for Christmas. Mistake. He’d broken up with me in my parents’ living room thirty minutes before Christmas dinner.

  So, no. I wasn’t ready to parade Hunter in front of my family.

  Hunter wasn’t Everett, but I was still being cautious.

  “There she is.” Dad was standing behind my shoulder, shaking his head at my snoring mother. “I came back from the bathroom and couldn’t find her anywhere.”

  I smiled up at him. “I think she’s ready for bed.”

  He scoffed. “I think so too.”

  Dad came to her chair and gently swept her up in his arms. “Come on, baby,” he whispered to Mom, then looked to me. “Night, honey. We’ll see you at brunch.”

  “We’ll be there. Good night, Dad.”

  I watched them go, happy that after all their years together he still called her “baby.”

  Sliding my phone out of my dress’s pocket, I checked the time. It was well past midnight now and time for me to get my kiddo home. I shifted Coby in my arms to get a better hold, then stood. Carefully, I made my way over to the coat rack to grab our jackets and my purse. Balancing him and our stuff with practiced ease, I slipped out the doors and made a silent exit into the night.

  With Coby buckled in his car seat, I climbed in the driver’s seat just as my phone dinged with a text.

  Hunter: How was the wedding?

  My heart picked up a beat as I typed my reply.

  Me: It was really fun. We’re actually just leaving now.

  Hunter: Drive safe.

  The drive from the school to the motel was maybe a minute, but he still told me to drive safe.

  I really, really liked that.

  Hunter and I hadn’t spent any time together this week but we’d been texting. He’d sent me a message each morning, thanking me for whatever meal I’d left him the day before. I’d texted him funny things Coby had said and weird stuff people had left behind in their rooms after checking out.

  Our messages weren’t serious, but there was an intimacy there. We checked in with one another. We were thinking about each other. And I liked that he was thinking about me tonight.

  I pulled into my parking space behind the motel and reached over to the passenger seat to collect my stuff. When I looked up, I yelped and jerked in my seat. A man was standing outside the window of my car. I only relaxed when the figure bent low to knuckle tap on the glass.

  Hunter.

  My breathing was still labored when I pushed my door open and stepped out. “You scared me again.”

  He winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just thought you might want help carrying Coby inside.”

  That was sweet. So sweet it chased the adrenaline away. “Well, at least this time I couldn’t physically retaliate.”

  He grinned. “My balls are grateful.”

  I giggled and clicked the locks so he could open the back door and collect Coby. Leading the way up the stairs, I opened the door to the loft and immediately kicked off my heels as Hunter strode past me with Coby in his arms.

  I followed them to Coby’s room and stood in the doorway, watching Hunter lay my son down gently in his bed. He stepped back and I moved in, tugging off Coby’s shoes, socks and bowtie.

  With his sound machine on, his starry nightlight shining and him tucked under his blanket, I closed the door to Coby’s room and followed Hunter to the living room.

  “How was your night?” I asked.

  “Quiet. I packed up my stuff so I can check out of that room tomorrow.”

  “Do you want the key to the housekeeper’s room? I was going to drop it off in the morning, but since you’re here, I can give it to you now.”

  “Sure.”

  I got my keys from my purse and pulled my phone from my pocket, turning on Coby’s monitor app. With bare feet, I led Hunter down the interior stairs to the lobby. Grabbing the room key off its peg, we went outside and down two doors to his new space.

  Before I unlocked the door, I turned and met his gaze. “If you hate it, if it’s too small, please don’t feel obligated to stay. I won’t be hurt or upset at all if you don’t want—”

  “Maisy.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “It will be fine.”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath, turned the key and opened the door to step inside. Though the room was clean, it was outdated and cramped. Too small for someone of Hunter’s size. “I’m going to bring over my mini fridge from the lobby so you can have that in the corner. The cable company is scheduled to come over on Tuesday to get the TV hooked up. But I know it isn’t much.”

  He walked past me, inspecting the bed on his way toward the bathroom.

  I stood nervously by the wall as he assessed the space. This room was not anywhere near the type of room I wanted to give Hunter, but it was all I had.

  “I like it,” he said after coming out of the bathroom. “It reminds me of my college dorm except with its own shower and no farting roommate bunking above me.”

  “That is awful.” I laughed. “You’re sure this will work?”

  He nodded. “I’m very sure.”

  The tension I’d held in my shoulders floated away. “Then it’s all yours for as long as you need it.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate you letting me rent this out.”

  “Oh, I’m not letting you pay.”

  Hunter frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maisy—”

  I held up a hand to stop his protest. “No arguments on this one, Hunter. Please? I cannot charge for this room. It’s far below the standard I want to set here, so please, don’t try and pay me. Please? Please, please, please? I’m begging here. Paying for meals is important to you. This is important to me.”

  He stared at me for a long moment but then dropped his arms and frowned. “All right.”

  Phew. I had been practicing that speech all week.

  “Thank you.” I was exhausted and really should go to bed, but I didn’t say good night and go home. Instead, I crossed my fingers behind my back. “I’m going to have one glass of wine before I go to bed. Would you like to join me?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Yes!

  When I turned, his hand found the small of my back. It stayed there all the way outside, back through the lobby and up the stairs to my loft.

  “Beer or wine?” I asked.

  “Beer.”

  “Okay. Make yourself at home.”

  He went to the couch as I hurried into the kitchen. The prospect of time with Hunter had given me a fresh burst of energy. I joined him in the living room, handing him his beer before settling into the corner of the couch with my legs stretched out in the space between us.

  “So you had fun tonight?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, it was awesome. It was, like, the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever seen.” The minute the sentence was out of my mouth, I automatically pinched my leg.

  The sting in my skin was still sharp when Hunter touched my ankle. “What was that?”

  “Huh?”

  “Maisy, you just pinched yourself so hard your whole body flinched.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks flushed but I waved him off. “It’s nothing. Just an old habit.”

  His eyes softened. “Listen, I know I’m new in your life but I’d like to stick around until I’m not so new anymore. Part of that is getting to know each other. I appreciate that you haven’t minded that I don’t talk much about my family and life in Chicago. I know I haven’t been forthcoming these last three weeks, but please believe me when I say, that’s temporary. I want to give you that same c
oncession, but you sitting here hurting yourself, that’s not okay with me. You’ve got to tell me what’s going on. Is it me? Did I say something?”

  “What? No!” I sat up straighter. “No, it’s not you.” I closed my eyes and admitted the truth. “I pinched myself because I said ‘like.’ ”

  “Like?”

  I nodded. “Like. I said, ‘It was, like, the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever seen.’ Like. A valley-girl like.”

  “Oh,” he said, now understanding. “And how does that lead to you pinching yourself?”

  I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to get into the reason tonight but I could tell he wouldn’t let this go.

  “I used to say ‘like’ all the time. I never really noticed, I guess. No one had ever told me it was annoying, until Coby’s father. The night he broke up with me, he said I said ‘like’ too much. He also said I was too young and he wasn’t interested in putting in the time while I matured. All of this said right in front of my parents and brothers on Christmas Day. Anyway, I took his words to heart and I started pinching myself so I’d stop saying ‘like.’ ”

  It sounded crazy when I said it out loud.

  For the first year after Everett’s death, my thighs had been covered in tiny bruises, but the training had been effective. Slowly, I’d broken my habit.

  “I still say ‘like’ every now and then. I don’t care as much as I used to, but unfortunately the pinching habit is more engrained than saying ‘like’ ever was.”

  I studied my wineglass, embarrassed that I’d had to admit all of that to Hunter.

  “I sound crazy.”

  “No. Not at all.” His hand was still gentle on my ankle. “Maisy?”

  I forced my eyes up.

  “Say whatever the fuck you want, especially around me. But don’t ever pinch yourself like that again. Understood?”

  I nodded.

  “Say it,” he ordered. “Say ‘I promise not to pinch myself again, Hunter.’ ”

  I fought a smile. “I promise not to pinch myself again, Hunter.”