Page 10 of Fool Me (Timberline Peak #1)

CHAPTER

SEVEN

HARLOWE

Girls’ night did little to take my mind off finding out Canyon was coming back.

Other than my dad, I haven’t told a soul.

And, listen, I know tonight would have been the perfect opportunity, but I’m not ready to answer questions about how it makes me feel.

Not when the girls will see straight through my bullshit about being fine.

The four of them know me as well as my childhood best friend, Vivienne.

While she’s living her very best life with her fiancé, a former pro baseball player, his daughter, and their newborn son in Denver, they’re here, ready to sniff out my lies.

Somehow, all of this makes me miss her more.

There’s a difference between friends you met as a full-blown adult and someone who’s helped you pick rocks out of your skinned knee.

Although, none of that makes me any less lucky to have found my people in Timberline Peak.

Between us, we’ve got a flight nurse, Aspen, who’s smart, brave, and emotionally intelligent. She knows what I’m thinking without me having to say a word. She and Briar grew up here, along with Tessa.

Those two are possibly the most thoughtful people I’ve ever met. Where Briar is soft, Tessa is gritty. They’re the kinds of friends that show up with coffee when your day sucks, or flowers to celebrate a milestone that would go unnoticed by most people.

Sloane is witty as hell, and while she keeps a close guard on her past, she’s got no shortage of loyalty. If someone is going to throw down for another member of our little quintet, it would undoubtedly be her. She’s also the youngest of the five of us, but you’d never know it.

Before the avalanche, I was only close with Aspen and Briar. But now, all of us are knitted together by fate, circumstance, and a fifty-fifty split on our love of pickles. It’s a weave too tight to be undone. All four of them rallied around me in their own way over the last two years.

Tessa used her platform as a professional snowboarder to help raise money to cover medical bills while workers’ compensation did its thing, taking forever to be approved and not covering every expense.

Aspen was my near-constant sounding board for medical decisions, and kept me from the brink of a breakdown when I was tired and overwhelmed more times than I could count.

Briar brightened bleak days with thoughtful cards, weekly flowers for my dad’s room, and a never-ending stream of text messages to see what we needed long after others had stopped checking in.

And Sloane became my outlet for the anger I tried so damn hard to hide from my dad—letting me vent to her, and taking me to the gym to work out my feelings when Aspen’s logic or Briar’s positivity wasn’t what I needed. She let me live in the darkness.

It’s because of all this I know they would wholeheartedly support any feelings I might have as a result of Canyon coming back.

Hell, we have a shovel and tarp policy. Say the word and we’ll show up for each other, no questions asked.

Digging a Canyon-sized hole has crossed my mind, but I’m not ready to talk about it all.

Not yet. I’m still trying to pretend it’s not happening.

I’m about to close out my tab and leave when I see a stupidly handsome, familiar face with a pair of golden brown eyes sweeping the bar.

It’s a shame the new vet in town makes me weak in the knees, because, while my body knows what it thinks of him, my brain can’t make heads or tails of him now that I know his last name is Kane.

Yesterday I was pissed. Today, I realize that most of that anger was misplaced.

Atlas has traded the dark green scrubs he wore in the clinic for a pair of faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt that hugs his chest, while his biceps test the limit of the cotton’s resilience.

Tonight, he looks less like the polished vet from the city and every bit the man who grew up here—right down to the squared toes of his scuffed boots.

His gaze finds me across the dark and musty bar.

Heat zips through me when our eyes meet.

His normally relaxed presence is nowhere to be found.

Somehow, he looks darker, more dangerous.

Maybe it’s my subconscious warning me away because of who he is, but I can’t help but think there’s more to it than that.

His long legs eat up the space between us and I find myself wishing the girls hadn’t left. Being in his line of sight is unsettling now that I’m having a hard time reconciling the tender version of Atlas who treated Echo, and the knowledge that he’s Canyon’s brother.

Having the girls as backup would give me a much needed excuse not to talk to Atlas, but they’re long gone. I had every intention of being right behind them, but Marcy had stopped over to say hi and here we are.

Without asking, Atlas snags the barstool next to mine. That ominous look is still clouding his expression when Jude, the owner, comes over.

“Atlas Kane. I heard you were back. What can I grab you?

“Bourbon, neat.”

Jude slides the glass across the bar to Atlas, pouring the amber liquor without another word. I’m stuck to the bar stool, knowing I should leave but unable to move as I watch the veins in his arms pop as he wraps his palm around the glass.

“Canyon is back,” Atlas says plainly, swirling the liquid in his glass, and for a second I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or Jude, but then his eyes flash to mine.

They’re hard, colder than I expect, and filled with his own ghosts—ones I’m sure his brother put there.

It’s the same look I’ve seen in the mirror so many damn times in the last two years.

Any buzz I was feeling from spending the night with friends evaporates. I thought I would have more time before I had to face this. Grabbing Jude’s attention, I say, “I’ll take the same.”

The older man raises a brow at me, but sets the drink in front of me.

“I thought you should know. He’s here and wants to come back to work for the search and rescue team.”

There is so little emotion in his voice, I can’t tell what Atlas is thinking, or why he’s here, telling me. He doesn’t owe me anything, especially after yesterday. Still, he’s warning me so I’m not blindsided.

I wrap my palm around the smooth glass. “He knows I want that job. And now he’s back to see if he can take that, too.” I look into the amber liquid but there are no answers there. “Your brother is a prick.”

“Well aware,” Atlas says, his hand tightening on his own glass, bleaching his knuckles. I know Canyon is a douche, but I can’t help but wonder what he could have done to drive his brother away. Knowing what he’s capable of, nothing would surprise me.

“Why did he come back?” I groan more to myself, not really intending for Atlas to answer.

He sips on the amber liquid, considering my question. “He’s selfish and doesn’t think about how his actions impact others.” The response shocks me, coming from his family.

“Why did you come back?” I ask, curious about my newfound ally.

“If Ray hadn’t needed me here I wouldn’t have considered it. I wanted the space.”

It feels like there’s a silent but there—a hesitation I can’t put my finger on. Like maybe there’s more to the reason he was willing to come back. “Space from your brother?” I ask.

“Yeah, among other things.”

“I’m sensing a story there.” I shift on my stool, propping my elbow on the bar, turning toward him. I’m still not sure what to make of Atlas, but there aren’t many members of the “I Hate Canyon Kane Club,” and being the president is a burden I’m sick of carrying.

“ Stories would be more accurate. Canyon and I are a year apart and were inseparable growing up, until we weren’t.”

“That makes you thirty-three?” I ask.

To which he gives a single nod of his head.

“What happened?”

“It wasn’t a quick severing, more like slow cracks in our foundation until it all caved in.

My brother has always been more reckless than me, but by my senior year, I was constantly having to bail him out of trouble.

The little stuff annoyed me, grew into real problems, and never stopped escalating. ”

I hum in agreement because, boy, can I fucking relate.

“Being older, it felt like it was just part of my role. But I had a lot on the line. My spot on the football team, a scholarship for undergrad. Every time he got in trouble and called me to help, it put my future on the line. I wasn’t perfect.

I just worked really fucking hard and knew when enough was enough.

But Canyon didn’t have an off switch. He’d keep going, getting in over his head—with his mouth, with drinking.

Whatever the vice, he let it run the show.

Nothing I said could convince him to slow down. ”

“He never did,” I comment.

“Nope. And he couldn’t understand why I was so pressed when he’d pull me into his shit.

” He sighed. “The end of his junior year, he and his friends added gallons of bubble concentrate to the water treatment plant as a prank. He used my car to do it and they almost got caught. If they’d connected my car to the crime, it would have been the end of my scholarship. Shit, they could have arrested me.”

“Yikes . . . that was really reckless. Is that what made you cut him off?”

Atlas shakes his head then pushes his brown hair that’s fallen over his forehead back.

“When I went to college, I got some distance and perspective. Leaving made it easier to see that Canyon had been skating by. No one, my parents or the school, held him accountable. Everyone made excuses for him, me included. But he was my brother, and I figured he’d grow up and we’d look back and laugh at what an idiot he was. ”

“Your brother can talk his way out of anything.” Charming as hell, like the devil in disguise.