Page 84 of Hotshot

“Sorry about that. I knew he’d be excited, but I forget how hyped Trinsky gets after a beer or five,” Denny whispered, brushing his arm against mine.

“No worries. Now you know why I’d like to see that thing gone for good.”

“The billboard? No way,” Denny huffed, narrowing his eyes. “You guys don’t ruin the natural habitat of river otters, do you?”

“Absolutely not. We don’t harvest near the river at all. Sustainable harvesting means?—”

“I know what it is. If you guys are protecting little critters, you should put them in your ads,” Denny suggested.

“Dude, that’s a great idea. Do one of you standing next to your horse with a river otter in the saddle,” Trinsky chimed in, frowning when someone laughed. “Yo, it’s a good idea. Come on, do it, do it, do it.”

Whether anyone knew what he was talking about or not, Trinsky soon had the entire bar chanting “Do it, do it.” Someone called for shots and soon after, a tray was passed around.

I set my glass on the bar untouched and melted into the shadows, content to watch Denny interact with his peers. He was more engaged and at ease than I’d ever seen him in a group setting, laughing at silly jokes and outrageous ribbing. I supposed it made sense.

He was home, and now that he’d finally begun to face his grief and fundamental truths about himself, he seemed lighter. This place cleansed him, made him whole.

This was where he belonged.

I envied that. My life had been in a state of flux for years. Denver was home, but I wasn’t settled there. My closest friends lived in the suburbs of Boulder or had moved away after college. The only one left was my father. And while I was grateful that he’d orchestrated a job that would enable me to establish myself, money couldn’t buy what Denny had here. A sense of community, a connection, home.

I inclined my chin to the guys from the mill, set a twenty on the bar for Bill, and lightly tugged Denny’s arm in a wordless good-bye before stepping outside.

The night sky was awash with stars, layer upon layer. I walked with my head held high, key fob pointed at my truck.

I slid behind the wheel and started the engine just as the passenger side door opened.

“I’m coming with you, cowboy.”

I snorted. “Billboard cowboy to you.”

He chuckled. “Now you see why I needed that selfie?”

“Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Yeah.” Denny stared up at the stars for a beat before climbing into the truck. He fastened his seatbelt and twisted to face me. “I’m leaving for New York in two days. They want to talk to me in person…and so does Denver.”

“Oh yeah? They’re in competition for you, eh?”

“Something like that.” He shrugged. “Hey, I’ll be back for the end of camp scrimmage, but it’ll be a quick trip. If I miss you here, I’ll see you in Denver. I mean…we’ll talk obviously, but summer is almost over and…I’m not saying good-bye, but?—”

I tipped my hat slightly and set my finger over his lips. “Don’t worry. We’ll work it out, sweetheart.”

His Adam’s apple slid in his throat as a smile ghosted the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, we will.”

We held hands on the way to my place. We walked quietly upstairs, undressed, and reached for each other.

We moved as one, a beautiful dance for two with tender kisses and soft sighs. And afterward, we lay in the moonlight, sharing skin like a blanket. We didn’t speak…there was no need for words. We were nearing an end, hoping it led to a beginning.

The next day, I knew it was over.

21

HANK

The day started out all right. I stopped by the diner to chat with JC, ordered a latte with wonky art from Ivan, and said hi to Annie at the bakery.

I’d come here hoping to hoodwink the locals into liking me well enough to give the mill some positive press, but I was the one who’d fallen under a spell. And now…I loved this town.