Page 4 of Hotshot

See, no one wore cowboy hats around here. Not like it never happened, but Elmwood was more of a beanie or baseball cap kind of town. Trust me on that one. I had a hat fetish. And a cowboy fetish.

On the right guy, or girl—cowboy hats were hot as fuck. So yeah…the stranger had my attention.

Other than the hat and his expensive-looking boots, he sort of blended in with his puffy winter jacket, green plaid flannel, and standard-issue 501s that accentuated his package to perfection.

Eyes up, asshole.

I made myself glance away, but it wasn’t easy.

Something in the way he moved, slow and sure with just the right amount of swagger, set him apart. He was tall and thick—built like a brick house…or an athlete. I assumed he had brown hair based on his end-of-day scruff, and that he was at least a few years older than me, but there was no way of knowing without getting closer. And I definitely wouldn’t be doing that.

Still, I wondered who he was. We didn’t get many tourists in the middle of March. Not like summertime when the hockey community converged on Elmwood for our internationally renowned youth camps. But New England was cold as fuck this time of year, and Elmwood was remote with a series of winding roads separating the Four Forest area from the main interstate. You had towantto visit.

Mary-Kate hummed in a low tone. “Day-um. He’s dreamy.”

Affirmative. And you know what? He looked familiar.

Weird.

I picked up my glass, welcoming the cool condensation dripping between my thumb and forefinger as I watched the newcomer belly up to the bar, seemingly unaware of the buzz he’d caused.

“Who is he?” I asked.

Micah tore his gaze from his phone and squinted. “Oh, that’s our new boss. At least, I think that’s him.”

“It’s him,” Niall confirmed. “Dude, you need glasses.”

“Fuck off. My vision is fine.”

“No, you almost hit a deer on the way over here and?—”

MK held a hand up and pointed toward the bar. “Stay on topic, knuckleheads. Tell us about your new boss.”

“Hank Cunningham. His family bought the mill from the Larsons.” Niall swirled the contents of his glass thoughtfully. “They were silent part owners for a while, but Mr. and Mrs. L decided to cash out when the town council approved the new construction in Wood Hollow. That’s the official story, anyway.I’ve heard they were gently pushed out the door for a sweet pile of dough to make room for a corporate takeover.”

It was tempting to roll my eyes at Niall’s wary disdain, but I understood. Commerce in the four towns of the Four Forest area belonged to small business. We didn’t have Starbucks or Shake Shacks here. No, siree. We bought our lattes at Rise and Grind and ate ridiculously delicious burgers and fries at the diner. The lack of big-name logos on Main Street was a source of pride to the locals.

“Corporate takeover? Oh, shit,” MK murmured. “Poor Wood Hollow.”

“I didn’t know the Larsons sold,” I piped in. “When did that happen?”

“Around the holidays. They kept it on the DL, knowing it wouldn’t go down well. They cashed the check, sold their house, and caught the first flight to Fort Lauderdale,” Niall reported.

“Well, since he’s your boss, say hi and let’s shake some info out of the corporate cowboy and assure him we don’t play those games in Elmwood,” MK suggested playfully.

“No, thanks. We’re supposed to have fun tonight. Thinking about or talking about work is the opposite of a good time. Besides, I haven’t personally met him,” Niall said. “Have you, Micah?”

Micah shook his head, fingers still flying over his cell. “Not yet. I heard he bought the old Hamilton house and the land next to it, though.”

MK frowned. “In Elmwood? Why wouldn’t he buy something in Wood Hollow?”

“They’re fancy folks, MK. Wood Hollow doesn’t do fancy. Plus, the Hamiltons had a barn, so maybe he has animals?” Niall shrugged. “Fuck if I know. I’m sure he’s not staying for long. He’s from way out of state, like California or?—”

“No, no. The Cunninghams are from Colorado. They own the Rocky Mountain Mill in Denver,” Micah reported.

Whoa.Thatwasa coincidence.

“Maybe you know him, Den.” Niall tipped his chin my way.