Page 11 of Fool Me (Timberline Peak #1)

“That’s what I thought, but when your mouth is writing checks you can’t cash, it’s going to catch up with you,” Atlas says as a loud conversation starts up behind us, and I have to lean in closer. The smell of bourbon and sandalwood hit me. It’s warm and earthy, putting me at ease.

“I came home from college for spring break my freshman year. Canyon went out to a party, and I decided to stay home with my girlfriend, Fiona. She was a senior, like my brother. I was leaving her house when I got a call from a friend on the football team. Canyon was drunk and out of control. They asked me to pick him up.”

“Always the life of the party.” There’s no amusement in my voice because there’s a fine line between charismatic and obnoxious when Canyon parties.

“Except, when I got there, he was erratic. I’d never seen him like that.

Drunk, sure. But this was different.” His grip on the glass tightens, like the memory still distresses him.

“I got him in the car and we were a couple miles down the road when I noticed he looked pale. He said he was going to be sick, so I pulled over. He stumbled out of the car and fell into the ditch. I got out to help him and that’s when I saw the lights reflecting off my car. ”

“Shit.” I breathe.

“It gets worse.” His tone is bitter and I don’t like it.

“The sheriff that stopped was my girlfriend’s dad.

He and I had a good relationship because I was respectful, followed his rules, and treated his daughter well.

So he was understanding when he found me hauling my brother out of the ditch covered in mud. ”

Fiona’s a unique name and there’s only one in Timberline Peak that I know of. I try to picture a teenage Atlas with her, and I can see it. “She’s a nurse at the hospital now, right?”

He shrugs and I realize that when he moved away, he truly disconnected from Timberline Peak.

“Could be.” He rolls his lips together before going back to his story.

“I thought I was just going to be able to take him home and put him to bed, but then something fell out of his pocket. I tried to cover for him, moving my foot to try to hide the bag of pills—Cayon was fucked if Sherriff Evans found them. The pranks, the skipping school and drinking, the drag racing just outside of town, people could laugh those things off—rationalize it as a young kid sowing his oats.”

Atlas shakes his head like he thinks that’s as much of a cop out as I do.

“All that boys will be boys bullshit that keeps them from becoming decent men. Evans didn’t tolerate drugs, though.

I knew it was a risk, and I thought I was quick enough, but his flashlight caught on them as we moved to get Canyon in the car. ”

“Please tell me you sold him out.” It’s fleeting hope, but I can already sense it’s not how things unfolded.

“I should have, but I’d hurt my knee playing football earlier that year and tweaked it skiing with Canyon and Fiona earlier in the week.

He knew that, so I told him it was my prescription from my old injury.

But before I could pick them up and pocket them, he grabbed them.

As soon as they were in his hands, he knew it was a lie—they weren’t pain pills. ”

“How could he know that from a glance on a dark street?”

“Because they were Fiona’s Ritalin. Whether Canyon stole them or she gave them to him, I still don’t know.”

“So, he caught you covering for your brother?” There’s so much to unpack here—years of betrayal, multiple chances to change.

“Nope.” He drops his head rolling it side to side.

“Evans hated Canyon. Mostly because he got away with so much shit right under his nose.” There’s pleading in his tone, like he needs me to understand this part.

“If he thought Canyon stole them from her—from his house—there’s no way he wouldn’t have pressed charges.

And he would’ve nailed him to the wall for anything and everything.

So I took the blame, telling him I was stressed about finals, knowing he’d go easy on me to protect both of them. ”

“You didn’t.” I’m dumbfounded, completely absorbed in the drama of all of it. And damn do I feel for Atlas. I also can’t help but wonder if there was more to Canyon’s issues all along. Maybe he never stopped using.

“I did, and I’ve always regretted it.” When he lifts his head, guilt is muddying his big brown eyes, making him look like the world’s saddest puppy. Like maybe we’re both thinking the same thing.

“Someone needed to hold your brother accountable, and it could have been you.”

“I wanted to give him one more chance and I shouldn’t have. I enabled him as much as my parents and everyone else.”

God, if that wasn’t what caused the rift between them, do I even want to hear what did?

“That was a big risk to take.”

He shrugs. “It was peak stupidity. But I figured my chances were better than Canyon’s.”

“Why do I get the feeling that wasn’t that last time you saved his ass?”

He runs a hand down his face. “Oh, it was. I distanced myself, but we still talked. I just never saw him the same after.”

“What made you stop talking then?” I ask, leaning in closer.

“When he sobered up, I laid into him. He told me it was the first time he’d taken anything and that he wouldn’t do it again.

I threatened to tell our parents, and he flipped out, saying I was blowing it out of proportion.

Things were already strained when I went back to school.

At that point, I just assumed he’d stolen the Ritalin from Fiona because he refused to tell me where it had come from.

And she swore she knew nothing about it. ”

He throws back the rest of his bourbon like he needs it for this next part. His throat bobs with the swallow and my eyes track it. It’s too bad he shares DNA with my ex, because the good doctor is hot.

“When I came back to Timberline Peak for the summer, I went to Fiona’s, wanting to surprise her. No one knew I was in town, not even my parents.”

His jaw tenses and I want to reach out and brush my hand over it to ease the tension there.

“Her parents’ cars were gone and music was playing. I knocked, but no one answered—that wasn’t unusual. She loved music, and she’d get lost in it. I lost count of the number of times I’d walk into her room and find her dancing, completely wrapped up in the song.”

My stomach sours at where this is going. I’ve never wanted to be wrong more.

“When I walked in, Canyon had her bent over the kitchen counter.”

“No.” It comes out a whisper.

“Yep. She locked eyes with me, and I turned around and left—got back in my car and drove the six hours back to school in Sheridan. I never came back.”

“Jesus,” I mumble. What do I even say to that?

“Now I’m just supposed to live in the same town as him and act like all of that didn’t happen because the rumor mill here is a bitch.

Maybe this was dumb and I should have stayed in Houston, but I couldn’t do that to Ray.

Plus, my parents are here and they’re getting older.

” He rolls the bottom of his empty glass against the bar top. “This is where I want to be.”

“And now you’re here, and the last thing you need is everyone talking about your past when you’re trying to build a life here.”

“Pretty much.”

“And you never sold him out, or told anyone why you left? Not even your parents?”

He licks his lips. “They know enough—about the prank with my car, that I caught him with pills, but at nineteen I wasn’t eager to tell them my girlfriend, who wanted to wait for marriage, was fucking their other son behind my back. I was hurt and angry, but I was also embarrassed.”

Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a fun conversation.

Cheers come from the loud group of guys behind us, and I turn around just enough to see Canyon over Atlas’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. The last thing either of us need right now is to deal with my ex. The space between Atlas and me dwindled during his story, so much so that my knees are bumping against his thighs. It looks intimate, like two people who know each other better than we do.

Canyon grins widely when he spots me, like he thinks I’m as much his as the job he’s come back to claim. No fucking way. Atlas’s back is still to his brother and I’m sure that if he knew who I was sitting with, the smarmy smile would slide off his face.

I make a decision that might be as reckless as the man across the bar, but I can’t stand the idea of Atlas having to face his brother alone after that confession united us against our common enemy.

Neither of us wants people gossiping about our past. And a future—a narrative we can control—wouldn’t be so bad.

Or that’s what I tell myself as I slide off the stool. My hand travels over Atlas’s strong shoulder and across his chest. I bring my lips to his ear and whisper, “Sorry for this, but unless you stop me, I’m going to kiss the hell out of you now.”

His eyes go wide and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips.

He gives me the smallest nod and I don’t think twice, covering his mouth with mine.

His hand is in my hair in an instant, pulling me to him, dragging his tongue over the seam of my lips.

I melt into him because this kiss doesn’t feel like a ploy.

It races through me from where our mouths are connected, to the spot where his hand landed on my hip, squeezing it, to the tips of my toes, curling inside my sandals.

A low groan rumbles from his throat, and I capture it with my mouth.

He tastes like bourbon and honey, and kissing him feels like a risk I’d take over and over again.

Together we spin further out of control, barreling toward indecent.

The noise of the bar filters in over the pounding of my heart and I pull back, pressing my lips to his one last time before I rest my forehead against his temple.

“Don’t look, but your brother is right behind us.

” My voice is raspy and breathless. That kiss has my brain scrambled and I’m having a hard time remembering why it seemed like a good idea because now that I know what kissing Atlas feels like, not doing it every chance I get is going to be impossible.

“You kissed me to make my brother jealous.”

“No,” I assert, not giving him an inch of space. “I kissed you because we both have the same problem: Canyon’s back and it can fuck things up for both of us. Neither of us should have to do this alone.”

“So, you, what? You want to team up to run my brother out of town?”

“We’re taking back the power he took from us. Instead of people talking about the past—why you left, speculation about how him being back might affect me—we can give them something else to talk about.”

“Like me kissing my brother’s ex in a bar.”

“What if it was more than just a kiss?”

Canyon is halfway across the bar now, making his way toward us. Atlas could tell me this is crazy and make me look like a fool, but I don’t think he will.

“What if we pretend to be dating? Give people something to talk about other than how you run your clinic, why you left, and how I’m feeling about Canyon being back.”

“It would certainly send a message.” Atlas scratches his jaw, his other hand wrapping around my waist, bringing me closer. “Where is he?”

“About halfway across the bar. He saw me, but I don’t think he knows the man I just kissed is you.”

“We can’t have that.” The corner of his lip tilts up, making him look a little unhinged, like maybe I got in over my head without realizing it. “Hey, Jude, can we close out?” he asks.

My stomach turns into a pit, rejection settling in it. “You’re leaving?”

“No, Clover, we’re leaving.” He takes his card back from Jude, standing and sliding it back into his wallet before he threads our hands together and leads me through the bar.

A thrill runs up my spine, but I can’t decide if it’s from the contact, the way he takes charge, or the nickname.

Either way, it leaves me following him like a puppy dog.

Canyon looks mad enough to spit bullets when he spots Atlas with his hand in mine. Atlas doesn’t miss a beat, tugging me closer and slipping a hand around my waist as we pass without a word or second glance.

I can barely hear Canyon muttering, “What the hell,” over the beating of my heart and the din of the bar.

When we get to Phantom, he drops his hold on me. “We’re going to need to come up with a plan or this won’t work. And I don’t think either of us wants this to backfire.”

“Yeah, that would be bad.” Everyone finding out that this was all just a game would be worse than if we had done nothing. “It’s not too late to back out,” I tell him.

“Is that what you want, to give Canyon the power back?”

“No.” I lean against Phantom. The sound coming from Jude’s swells, and without looking back, Altas steps in, caging me against the body of my SUV.

“Meet me for coffee tomorrow morning at Powderline and we’ll figure it out.” The noise fades and he steps back, the night air rushing in to cool my heated skin. His hand wraps around the handle of my door, pulling it open.

“Go home, Harlowe. I’ll see you at nine.”

I hate that he uses my name, instead of calling me Clover again. I don’t know where it came from, or why he picked it, but it’s all I want to be called from now on.

I get in. He closes the door but doesn’t step back until I’ve turned the key and Phantom’s engine rumbles to life. My palms wrap around the steering wheel to keep me from reaching out and opening the door to be near him again. With one last look, I put my SUV in reverse and back out.

I don’t even turn on the radio for the drive—my thoughts are loud enough. I just kissed my ex-boyfriend’s older brother and I know I’ll never have another first kiss that compares to the feel of Atlas’s lips against mine.