“Bear’s taking shape. Don’t want to rush it.”
I walked closer to the sculpture. He was right—the grizzly was emerging from the wood, powerful and imposing even in its unfinished state.
“It’s incredible,” I said softly.
He came to stand beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him.
“Thanks.”
We stood there in silence, both looking at the bear.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Starving, actually.”
“Diner’s down the street. Best burgers in Montana.”
“Bold claim.”
“True claim.”
It took a minute for Bridger to brush away all the sawdust. I wanted to reach out and help him. Run my fingers through his hair, over those broad shoulders. Brush them down those long legs. Across his backside.
All I allowed myself to do was watch.
Once he had made himself as presentable as he could, we walked to the diner. I tried not to notice how people watched us. But they were watching. Definitely watching.
A few people waved at Bridger. Quick, surprised waves—like they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. “Why is everyone looking at us like we’re a circus act?” I muttered.
“I don’t usually come into town.”
“And especially not with a woman.”
Okay, I was fishing for information yet again.
“Especially not with a woman.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and led me into the diner.
It was exactly what you’d expect in a small mountain town—red vinyl booths, checkered black and white floor, and a jukebox in the corner playing country music.
We slid into a booth, and a waitress appeared almost immediately.
“Bridger,” she said warmly. She was maybe forty, with kind eyes and a name tag that read Marie. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Been busy.”
“I can see that.” Her eyes flicked to me, curious but not unkind. “And who’s this?”
“Roxie,” I said before Bridger could answer. “My car broke down. Bridger’s uncle is fixing it.”
Marie nodded. “Lou’s an ace mechanic.” Her expression said she wanted to ask more questions, but she just smiled and asked for our orders. “Well, welcome to Lone Mountain. What can I get you?”
We ordered—burgers, fries, and shakes. Marie disappeared into the kitchen. “She seems nice.”
“She is.”
While we waited for the food, the door jingled and a group of guys walked in. Construction crew by the looks of it—work boots, dusty jeans, easy laughs. One of them clocked me immediately, did a slow double-take, and grinned. “Afternoon, ma’am.”
I gave him a polite smile.
