Page 50 of Fool Me (Timberline Peak #1)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SEVEN

ATLAS

Leave it to my brother to sideline my whole fucking day, and it’s been a good one at that.

I’m walking up First Street, looking for Harlowe, when I see Canyon approaching.

He corners me by Peaks I pull out my phone, seeing a text from Harlowe telling me she’s waiting at Jude’s, and jog down the alley toward her. Because somewhere in the middle of that whole mess, it hit me like a kick to the gut.

I love her, and I want her to know.

Jude’s is packed—shoulder to shoulder, dust rattling in the cracked floorboards with the beat of the music.

I spot Harlowe near the bar, just under the string lights.

She’s laughing at something Jude is saying as he slides a shot toward her.

She throws it back but fidgets with the glass, rolling it on the counter as she stares at it.

Then she looks around. She seems nervous.

I weave through the crowd, wiping my sweaty palms down the sides of my jeans. Fuck. I try to compose myself, worried that words are just going to come pouring out of me. What a stupid place to tell the girl I’m head over heels with that I’m in love with her for the first time.

But then I think about our first kiss—how chaotic and unexpected it was—and this place starts to feel right. Like it’s ours.

I reach her just as she turns and spots me. Her smile falters, and then spreads, like she had to force it.

“Hey, Clover,” I say, dropping a kiss to her lips.

“Took you long enough.” There’s an edge to her teasing and I wonder for a second if she knows why I got held up.

“Yeah, sorry,” I start, eager to explain and get the uncomfortable stuff out of the way so I can tell her I’m in love with her?—

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

The emergency line. Impeccable timing as always.

I glance at the screen and see Marilyn’s number. Crap. Now of all the times. For a split second, I contemplate not answering. This feels too big, too important to put off, but I can’t do that—I took an oath.

Harlowe’s brows lift. “You okay?”

“It’s Marilyn.” I hold up a finger., letting it ring two more times. Fuck. “Sorry. I gotta—” I can’t even hear myself think in here. I shoot her a look. “I’ll be right back. Just wait here. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

She nods, understanding as always, and I turn back out the way I came in, my head ducked.

“Marilyn? What’s going on?”

Her voice crackles through the line—frantic, garbled—and I catch maybe every third word.

“Slow down,” I say. “I’m outside now. Just—just tell me what happened.”

I turn away from the bar, pacing a few more steps so I can talk her down and get back inside to Harlowe. I know we have time, but I’m out of patience.