“Maybe.” Tex shut the catalogue and looked right at me. “Or maybe she’s tougher than she seems.”
I’d believe that when I saw it. I’d better hike on up to her place and make sure she wasn’t about to freeze to death stuck in a snowbank or something. I’dpull her plump ass out of the snow, then I’d take her back to my place and warm her right up.
Dammit. No. I needed to pretend I’d never even met her. I had plenty of other things to worry about, like my own fucked up career, and the Cause for Paws event this weekend. I had one fucking weekend off before we played our last game, and I wasn’t wasting my bye-week on some fling. Unless April was some kind of PR-nightmare-fix-it girl, I didn’t need her complicating my life.
Complicating my bed, maybe.
Hell, that was tempting.
BEARS DON’T TALK
APRIL
“You have no new messages.” Sigh. Of course I haven’t missed any calls, because not one magazine, website, or even catalogue was booking plus-size models. Every brand was into heroin chic, and I hated that with all my heart.
Not that I had any models left to book. All my girls had given up.
I should have been a sports agent like my daddy. The money to be made there didn’t care what your body looked like, just if you could play. In fact, the football teams slathered like drooling St. Bernards over big, thick linebackers. Like Bridger Kingman.
I’d admit to a little of my own drooling. He was one hell of a big boy, and I hadn’t missed the big boy tenting the front of his pants either. You’d have to be on the fricking moon not to see that, and I had been eye to umm, eye with his... oh geez, I needed to quit thinking about him in that way. Totally inappropriate.
Yeah, I’d known who he was the moment I saw him pick up that unicorn wallpaper. You’d have to be living under a rock, in a cave, with no cell phone reception to miss professional football’s meanest defensive linebacker.
Word on the street was that he was about to fire his agent and was a giant pain in the ass to work with. Regardless, everyone in the biz would be climbing over each other to get him signed. Who wouldn’t with a multi-million-dollar contract on the line?Good luck to them.
He didn’t seem that mean to me. Maybe a bit distracted and grumpy, but his eyes had sparkled when he’d asked me about my cabin.
My. Cabin.
All I’d wanted was someplace to get away from the hustle and bustle of New York, but someplace far, far away from Texas and the disappointment I knew was waiting from my parents. I needed some peace and quiet to regroup and figure out what in the world I was going to do next.
When I emailed Tanner, my sister May’s brother-in-law, asking if he had a lead on someplace in the mountains where he lived that I could escape to, he’d somehow talked me into buying this cabin.
As my rented SUV slipped and skidded through the snow on the one-lane barely-a-road for the eleventy-hundredth time, I was beginning to understand why I’d gotten such a great deal. I should be able to see the place by now, but all I saw were more trees and over there, some more trees, and up there, even more trees. Oh, and then there were the rocks.
My tires spun and I moved a half an inch or so forward. I really should pay more attention to where I was driving and quit daydreaming about how I’d like to see the monster in Bridger Kingman’s pants for myself.
“Come on, four-wheel-drive, you can do it. I promise a nice long rest for you if you just get me to the cabin, okay?” I didn’t dare go any faster than I already was, but at this rate, I’d be lucky to get to the top of the mountain by sunset.
What if there were wild animals in the dark waiting to eat me? Tanner had said there were bears in this area. I gave the SUV a bit more gas and prayed I didn’t end up a story in the newspaper. “Failed plus-size model turned talent agent dies in mysterious car accident. Did she see that tree coming? More news at eleven.”
I skidded around in the snow some more and happily avoided plowing into any trees. But then the road just ended, and there, within the dusky rays of sun shining down through the clouds, was my cabin.
Or, err, my wooden shed? Damn. This place had sure looked bigger in the pictures. The pile of wood Tanner had promised would be stacked next to it was as tall as, and almost as wide as, the whole building itself. That’s what I got for buying it sight unseen.
Two minutes after I opened the door, I knew I was screwed. It was colder inside than out, and I had no idea where to even start. The right answer was probably to go home. To Texas.
A fire. I’d start with a fire. There was enough junk and leaves and stuff tossed around in here to burn down the forest. I should burn the whole cabin down and start from scratch. What a pile of poop Tanner had sold me. He was getting an earful from me tomorrow, and then I was tattling on him to my sister.
I blew out a long breath and rubbed my hands together. I was not a quitter. I could still do this if it meant the peace and quiet I needed to rethink my life. Step one, start a fire to warm the place up, step two was going to be cleaning up and a bit of inventory to see if I even had a place to sleep tonight. Besides my car. Did Bear Claw Valley even have a hotel? I’d even take a motel at this point.
Nope. No. That was prissy quitter thinking, and I was not giving up.
I grabbed some logs from the pile of wood outside, some newspapers from the stack next to the little wood-burning stove, and the long matches out of the bag of stuff I’d bought at the hardware store. I’d gotten them hoping to light some scented candles, not even thinking I’d need them to survive the night.
I could always drive back down the mountain, but I could not take another defeat just yet. First, I was calling on my finely honed Girl Scout skills and doing the best with what I had in front of me. Twelve matches and two slightly singed fingers later, and I had a fire going. And only half the cabin had filled with smoke before I figured out how to open the damper to the flue.
Step one down, a million more to go if I was going to make this into my ideal retreat. I hadn’t bought a broom, but I did get a little dustpan and brush. Good thing there was only about a hundred square feet of floor.
