Page 20 of Fool Me (Timberline Peak #1)

How the hell would I explain myself if she turned around and caught me watching her?

I turn away, rubbing my palm over my hard length and groaning.

Of all the people to have this kind of effect on me, it has to be her.

What the hell is the matter with me? I could not have picked someone more complicated to develop .

. . whatever the hell this is. A crush? An infatuation?

Five years with my ex and I couldn’t tell you the last time the need to be with her was this strong. Not that we hadn’t had sex toward the end, but it was lacking passion.

It’s even hard to pinpoint where it all went wrong—when the love and passion faded. When we became so complacent. All I know is that Harlowe in my yard, laughing over that stupid donkey, is stirring something in me I haven’t felt in a while.

Dragging myself from the window, I dress, willing my erection away. Walking around Summit Square with a boner in the summer heat sounds uncomfortable as hell. And it won’t do me any favors with the people in town that are already doubting me.

I slip a baseball hat over my damp hair, not wanting to make Harlowe wait longer. When I walk outside, she’s still playing the same game with Echo and Muley, looking pleased as pie.

“If you can charm Muley, we’re going to need to make these visits a regular thing. Cleaning out her stall has gotten me bitten more than once in the past three weeks.” I rub the most recent spot subconsciously.

Her lips part on a dramatic gasp. “My sweet angel baby would never.”

“Want to see the bruises on my ass?”

Her gaze drops, slowly tracking back up until she’s giving me those blue eyes again, and I swear there’s something there, like maybe she wouldn’t mind taking a peek.

“I’ll believe it when I see it . . . her acting out, that is.”

“So . . you don’t want me to drop my pants . . . just to be clear.”

She tries to hide her smile, tucking her chin to her shoulder to look at the equine in question. “You promised me ice cream.”

“That I did.”

“Are you hiding ice cream in your pants, Doc?”

“Definitely not.”

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

Her dry tone has me choking out a laugh.

“Echo, come,” Harlowe calls with authority, and the dog comes running over, skidding to a stop at her feet, ball pinching between his teeth. “Leave it.”

He drops the ball, and she bends, grabbing it and praising a proud-looking Echo. I get an up-close look at the view that had me sprung earlier, only this time, I divert my eyes to the sky, because I’m no saint and I won’t be able to fight off another erection so soon.

She straightens, and I fall in step beside her. “Are we walking into town?”

“I thought we’d drive so we could take it to the overlook to eat.”

She looks up at me. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s a beautiful night.”

“Oh.” Harlowe sounds surprised by my suggestion. “We can take my car if you don’t want dog hair in your truck.”

“Clover,” I tut. “I come home covered in fur and feathers every day. A few more dog hairs won’t hurt.”

“Feathers? So, Betty is still a regular.”

My lips press into a thin line before I ask, “How well do you know Marilyn?”

“Just what I hear around town. We’re friendly enough that I say hi when I see her, but I don’t know her.”

“I think she’s really struggling, and I’m not sure what to do. I don’t want to tell her to stop coming in if it’s helping her, but I feel like an ass that she’s spending money . . .” I let my voice trail off. “Sorry, you probably don’t need to hear all this.”

She stops in the middle of the front yard, her fingers curling around my forearm. “This is part of getting to know each other. But beyond that, I enjoy hearing about your day, especially when you’re being sweet.”

Following her around the truck, our hands collide when we both reach for the door. “What are you doing?” Impatience bleeds into my voice, making it sound gruffer than I intend.

“Trying to open my door?” she answers slowly.

Again, with the awe at being treated with a bare minimum level of respect.

It pisses me off to no end that it’s her default expectation from men. It’s literally the bare minimum a man can do: open doors, walk on the outside of the sidewalk, make her come first. It’s really not that fucking hard to be decent to a woman. Especially one like her.

“That’s my job from now on,” I say a little gruffly.

Her mouth drops open into a cute little O , like she’s not sure what to do or say about that.

“Hasn’t anyone ever opened the door for you?”

“Other than my dad, no.”

“That’s a damn shame.” I knew my brother was a selfish prick, but for Harlowe, I thought maybe he’d been different. I guess he’s an even bigger idiot than I thought. “Sounds like I’ll have to give you the full boyfriend experience and show you how a man is supposed to treat the woman he’s dating.”

Our bodies brush when Harlowe steps past me and she shivers. Her responsiveness and the touch sends my nervous system into overdrive, giving me a hit of dopamine that makes my grin spread and my dick twitch.

“Can you let Echo in the back?”

I clear my throat, pretending to be the epitome of control. “Of course.” Her returning smile is enough of a reason to keep dazzling her with the little things she’s been missing.

When we get to Summit Square, we park down the street from the General Store, in front of Peaks & Petals.

The scent of pizza cooking at Gondoughla from the other side of the flower shop overpowers the summer blooms when I step out of the truck and round it to let Harlowe out. Pressing a hand to her back, I follow her up the wooden steps and into the General Store.

The vinyl-covered stools in front of the old-fashioned ice cream counter at the front of the store are full of people enjoying dessert.

Most of them probably wandered over after having pizza, but the line to order is short and we only have to wait a few minutes for a family—tourists, if I had to guess—to order.

Once they’ve got their ice cream in hand, Harlowe and I step up.

Her head is bent as she studies her choices, pinning her bottom lip between her teeth like this is a life or death decision. It’s such a contrast to her usually sure demeanor. “Can I get a dish of Elephant Tracks?” she asks Gerty, the owner of the General Store.

“So, not vanilla?” I tease, dropping my voice so only she can hear.

“Never,” she mouths over her shoulder, the mask of confidence back as she throws me a wink.

I crowd her from behind, my hands finding her hips just like I would if she were really mine.

“That’s a bold statement. There’s an occasion for every flavor.

Except for blue moon, that shit tastes like Play-Doh,” I whisper against the shell of her ear before kissing the skin at her neck, making goosebumps sprout across her flesh.

“Are we still talking about ice cream?” she asks.

“You tell me.”

Her breath hitches. I should stop flirting, stop teasing her, but I can’t help it, not since that almost-kiss outside the bar. This might all be fake, but the way she makes me feel, like I belong here with her, is real, and that might be the most foolish thing of all.

“What can I get you?” Gerty asks, moving to me once Harlowe’s dish is scooped, breaking the spell between us.

“A dish of the Blueberry Waffle Bliss, to-go please.” I should get an award for how unaffected I seem as I straighten and place my order like I wasn’t just murmuring dirty insinuations in my fake girlfriend’s ear.

Harlowe snorts. “How very vanilla of you.”

Gerty finishes scooping my ice cream, putting covers on both of the dishes and grabbing two spoons to add to the to-go bag.

“Is it though?”

“It’s a vanilla base,” she argues.

“It’s fucking delicious and you’re going to be begging for a taste of it,” I say, handing Gerty a twenty and taking the brown bag from him.

With my money clip back in my pocket, I take Harlowe’s hand, ready to head up to the outlook and enjoy the sunset, only to be stopped by Tessa and Briar Kennedy, who are leaving the flower shop next door.

Harlowe drops my hand, giving each of them a hug, and fuck me, I shouldn’t be jealous that they stole her away, but a burning annoyance that her hand is no longer in mine creeps up my arm.

Briar’s eyes widen when she sees me. “Atlas Kane, I was wondering when I’d bump into you. Denver is going to be so pissed that I got to see you first,” she says, mentioning her husband.

I rub at the uncomfortable prickling sensation working its way down my neck.

“Yeah. I’ve been meaning to get in touch.

” Denver was one of my best friends in high school.

When everything happened with Fiona and Canyon, I kind of lost touch with everyone.

Working through the anger and shame over how they played me took time.

There were so many nights when I picked up the phone to call Denver, but it felt like too much time had passed.

Like explaining myself would put me right back into the toxic space I ran from.

“Wasn’t sure if his number had changed.”

Her lips twist into a sardonic grin that screams don’t bullshit a bullshitter.

Embarrassed, but wanting to make amends, I chuckle. “Yeah, probably not. Not much has changed since I left and we both know he’s stubborn as a mule. Tell me you at least got him to change his hair.”

She laughs and this time it’s genuine and warm like I remember. “It was a condition of marrying him. The mullet went, or I did,” Briar jokes, seemingly not holding a grudge for what a shitty friend I was to her husband.

“I’ll call him this week,” I promise.

Harlowe’s gaze strays from her conversation with Tessa every so often. I know she’s going to have questions—something tells me she always does.

“Where are you guys headed?” Tessa asks.

“Oh. I’m not sure exactly,” Harlowe says, looking at me.

“The overlook.”

“Denver and I used to head up there all the time,” Briar says, and I can’t help but notice the sadness in her eyes. She might be smiling, but there’s a longing there too. Regret swells that I’ve lost touch with them enough that I have no business asking if she’s okay—if they’re okay.

Next to her, the Olympian’s gaze sweeps over her sister-in-law’s face, her lips turning down, like she sees it too.

“We’ll let you go before your ice cream melts,” Briar says.

They head in the opposite direction of where they’re parked.

My hand is on the handle to open the door for Harlowe when I catch a reflection in the window. I have every intention of ignoring my brother and pretending I didn’t see him when he opens his damn mouth.

“So, this is still a thing?” He sets his bag of groceries on the hood of my truck, his eyes swinging to Harlowe, and I step forward, putting myself between them.

My blood boils. I don’t want him anywhere near her, but I also don’t want to cause a scene that’s sure to attract the negative attention she’s hoping to avoid with her promotion on the line.

“Move along, Canyon. We just want to enjoy our night.” Somehow I keep my voice level and calm.

“I’d like to hear Harlowe speak for herself.”

He looks around me and I shift my weight. “Get out of here.”

“Don’t be shy now. The girl I remember was loud and a little wild.” He shifts his focus to me. “Maybe you’re not doing a good job if she’s this quiet around you.”

Canyon fucking winks, and I have to press my feet into the ground and ball my hands at my sides to stop myself from grabbing him by the shirt for that remark. Not because I care about what he’s insinuating about me, but for the callous disrespect toward Harlowe.

My feet start to move, but Harlowe’s sharp intake of breath rings in my ears, a subtle command leashing my rage.

“It’s a scientific fact that fake orgasms are louder than real ones,” she hisses back at him, her voice low with barely-contained venom. “Maybe that’s what you’re remembering,” she adds with a shrug.

My shoulders shake as I fight to control the sudden laughter trying to break free. I’m not sure why I thought Harlowe needed me to step in. She’s strong as fuck and mad as hell—a woman who needs no one. That she’s choosing to spend time with me, even as a ploy, is dumb luck.

My brother’s mouth snaps shut and when he opens it again, I speak up, because whatever he’s about to say isn’t worth hearing. I stick by what I said, but she shouldn’t have to face him alone. Not any more.

“Harlowe’s name stays out of your damn mouth. This is the only warning I’m giving you, little brother. Years may have passed, but I haven’t forgotten how to kick your ass.”

I don’t wait for him to respond, turning and opening the door for Harlowe, letting my palm slide down her back just a little lower than necessary. She steps up, joining Echo who’s waiting in the back, windows down, car running, and air conditioning pumping.

When I close the door, Canyon is right there, hot under the collar and clearly not done with me. “You’re supposed to be the smart one. She’s leading you like a calf to branding and you’re too dumb to see it. Harlowe is using you to get me back.”

“I thought I told you to stop talking about my girlfriend,” I seethe, stepping right into his space. “How would it look for that new job you’re after if I laid you out right here in the middle of Summit Square and Sheriff Evans had to come down to break it up?”

He grabs his groceries and steps back, just out of reach, but he’s not done. He never is. “You’ll see. She’ll come crawling to me just like Fiona did.”

The window opens behind me. “Come on, Atlas, take me home.”

Her pleading voice is all it takes to knock some sense into me.

I leave my brother on the sidewalk and join Harlowe in the truck.

Setting the ice cream down, I lean across the console and pull her to me until my nose is buried in the side of her neck.

My heart starts to slow and the anger seeps out of me as I soak her in. “Are you okay?”

I can hear her thick swallow before she utters, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Only she doesn’t sound fine. Her voice is devoid of the heat from earlier—defeated and sad. My heart pinches in my chest because my brother doesn’t shoulder all the blame.

“Am I really taking you home, or did you still want to head out to the overlook?”

“I bet the sunset’s real pretty from your property and there’s a lot fewer people there.”

“I could do without people,” I tell her.

The drive takes all of five minutes, but after the loaded “fine” she gave me, it feels a hell of a lot longer. When we get back, I grab a blanket out of the garage and walk her around the back where there’s a view of the mountains.

I lay out the worn wool blankets and take a seat, patting the ground next to me.