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dered, running a hand over the scruff of his beard. “To go so far as to screw up my inspection, though?”
“It gives him a way to force our hand to sell the land.”
“You’re right.” Chase blew out a loud breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “He would play that dirty.” His gaze clicked to Megan across the bar. She had none of the calculated coldness her father had. Turning to Shep again, he asked, “You found no connection between them?”
“Thankfully, no. As far as I can tell, this guy is originally from Colorado Springs. He moved here a month ago and has no ties to Clint at all.”
Chase considered that then shook his head. “To be honest, he didn’t seem shady, just a prickly fucker.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” Shep leaned back on the stool and stretched his arms. “But I wanted to make sure that was all you were dealing with. Keep an eye on him. If anything begins to feel not right, we might want to check him out further.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Shep studied Chase then his voice softened. “You’re not in this alone. Don’t forget that.”
“I appreciate that.” He tossed back the remainder of the warm ale, his eyes returning to Harper. Around him, the spice from the hot-as-hell chicken wings on the table behind him infused the air. He craved to replace that scent with her fruity aroma that remained imprinted on his mind. She smiled, taking the customer’s order, but behind that smile he saw her pain. He wasn’t sure how she was always so happy, even when she felt sad. He had never been like that. When he felt something, he made sure everyone knew it. Now, thinking about it, he found he liked that about her. She brightened up the world.
“I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing.”
Chase slid his gaze back to Shep. “About what?”
“Her.” Shep flicked his chin toward Harper at the bar.
“I know what I’m doing,” Chase muttered.
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Shep stated in his firm older-brother voice, rising from his stool. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re taking a complicated situation and making it more complicated.”
Chase sighed, not wanting a lecture tonight. “Like I said, I know what I’m doing.”
Shep walked around the table and cupped Chase’s shoulder. “Brother, let me be the first to tell you, this plan you think you’ve got all figured out, without any doubt in my mind, will completely fall to shit.”
“Is this your idea of a pep talk?” Chase frowned.
Shep patted his shoulder and gave him a measured look. “Nah, brother, it’s a warning.”
* * *
Sometimes Harper wished she smoked. In older movies, whenever someone needed a break, they would go out for a cigarette, and they always seemed to feel better after. If she smoked, she wouldn’t be sitting on a milk crate, staring at the dumpster, crying all alone.
The night could not be any darker tonight, or any quieter, reminding her of the night they found Houdini. The same night when everything in her life changed.
When she had left for culinary school in Denver, she’d started packing her car up a week before she left. Now, as she sat there, she realized she still had so much packing to do.
Why? kept echoing in her mind.
Where had the excitement gone? And where were her lists that she made to ensure she didn’t forget anything?
Her heart told her that her dreams were still very much there. She wanted to be a chef. She wanted people to enjoy her food. She did not want to be the woman from the small town in Colorado who didn’t know her place in the world at twenty-six years old. Yet, the longer she sat there, the more she realized that something inside felt empty. Wrong. Cold.
Before she could figure out what was missing, the bar’s back door opened. She quickly glanced away, swiping away her tears.
“Looking for another puppy?”
Chase’s tender voice slid across her, and she forced a laugh, hoping she masked her sadness. “No, my puppy quota has been filled.” Her voice came out choked, even to her ears.
Unsurprisingly, Chase reached for another crate, flipped it over, and sat directly in front of her. She’d seen from the last few months that he always seemed to be an in - your - face - and - let’s - talk - this - out type of guy. Maybe that’s what made him so put-together. She discovered she liked that about him. Especially since Brody was the exact opposite.
She stared at his jeans as he widened his legs and took hold of her crate, pulling her in close, his legs hugging hers. She anticipated what was coming before it even happened. He tucked a finger under her chin, lifting her head to meet his steady gaze. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.
