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Paige nodded. “She said you came with Camille for years, and then with others.”
“Camille is a microbiologist, and I first met her in Quebec when I’d been invited to speak to the Wildlife Disease Association. She was visiting from Winnipeg. We connected on many levels, and I later introduced her to the organizers of this symposium. Over the years, she became a frequent speaker here and made numerous friends.” Jack regarded her steadily. “As you know, we were also in a relationship for a long time. It was an on-again, off-again thing that lasted six or seven years, but we’re just friends now, and we get along well. There are no hard feelings between us, and no reason you should feel awkward.”
Paige grimaced. “I’m not sure if the mention of Camille made me uncomfortable, or the fact that Sheila said that with Camille no longer in the picture, it’s been a ‘revolving door.’ You apparently bring a lot of women here.” She’d expected him to laugh it off, but instead his jaw firmed, expression hardening.
“Doesn’t paint me in a very flattering light.”
“No.” Paige shifted on the foot of the bed, wishing he’d say more about the other women he’d brought here. She hadn’t thought she wanted to know, but now her curiosity had been piqued. Worse, she craved reassurance. She wanted to believe that she was special, that she wasn’t just another woman in his parade of weekend companions, because it wasn’t a good look for him, nor was it a good look for her.
His phone vibrated with a text, and he glanced at it. “I’m supposed to do a quick video for the website and they’re ready for me now. It shouldn’t take long, fifteen minutes, twenty at the most. Can we finish talking when I’m done?”
“There’s probably nothing to talk about—”
“I don’t like seeing you rattled,” he said. “Promise me you won’t go away.”
She laughed and glanced around the cabin. “Not sure where I’d go.”
“Okay. See you in a few.”
Paige showered and changed into clean jeans and an ivory sweater and went outside to sit on the front step of her cabin’s porch. The sun was setting, casting long streaks of golden light across the mountains while dark lavender shadows pooled below.
In the distant meadow, Paige could see a small herd of buffalo. They were enormous, and striking against the gold and green backdrop, the sun silhouetting a massive bull as he ambled slowly over the road.
Jack appeared with two beers. “All I could find,” he said, handing her an open bottle.
Paige wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but she welcomed the beer, and the company. She’d felt troubled all afternoon, as well as confused. She didn’t know what she wanted from Jack. But at the same time, she didn’t not want Jack in her life. She liked him—more than liked him—and sitting with him by the fire last night had felt good. She’d felt right with him, content and secure, and then today to have Sheila make those comments . . .
It had been genuinely upsetting. She still felt strange. Disconnected.
“It’s going to be a pretty sunset,” he said, sitting on the porch railing.
“I love the sky here.” She took a swig from her bottle, scrunching her nose at the taste. Maybe it’d improve as she drank it. “I’m not mad at you,” she said after a moment. “I’m just trying to figure things out.” She glanced at him. “It takes me a while.”
“Sheila Hutchinson is a pain in the arse. She always has been, and always will be. But her husband, Walter, is a really decent man, a good friend, and a passionate educator, and so I try to ignore Sheila’s negative qualities. Not always easy, I know.”
“I was just caught off guard. Last night by the fire with you was so fun. I felt . . . close . . . to you, and then at lunch to have her hit me with details of your love life. I hadn’t expected to be lumped with a parade of women—”
“There has been no parade. Have I brought guests? Yes. But they’re brilliant women like you, women I respect.”
Jack wasn’t helping his case, she thought, taking another sip of beer, hoping the taste had improved. It had not.
She hadn’t come with expectations. This trip hadn’t been a romantic getaway. She didn’t see Jack as a partner, but a friend.
Maybe more than a friend.
A possibility.
And kissing by the fire had been sexy and playful and fun. Last night had been fun, but she didn’t like how she felt now. It was the same insecurity she’d felt in Paris, the same awareness that Jack was handsome and charming. A man who loved women.
A man who left women.
A man who wouldn’t, couldn’t, be tied down.
Her eyes stung as she lifted the bottle back to her mouth, pressing the cold glass to her lips. At least she’d had her eyes opened before she’d slept with him—again.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his deep voice pitched low.
She glanced to where he sat on the railing, bathed in golden light. He looked rugged and appealing, and very sure of who he was. She liked that about him. She liked him. And let’s be real, she wasn’t looking for a husband, or a lifetime partner. She didn’t want to marry again. She wasn’t trying to settle down, either. She had her girls, her friends, her life. Why couldn’t she just enjoy Jack’s company for what it was? Good company.
And if one day she wanted to sleep with him, why couldn’t she do that, too?
There was no reason they couldn’t kiss, or touch, or go to bed with each other. There was no reason she needed to feel insecure. She wasn’t Jack’s wife, girlfriend, or significant other. But she was his friend, and as his friend she wasn’t going to continue this freak-out. There was no reason for it. Sheila may have caught her by surprise, but Paige was determined to pull herself together. “I’m thinking Sheila is annoying but she’s not going to ruin my weekend,” she said. “I’m in Montana, sitting on the steps of a sixty-five-year-old cabin, drinking a cold beer, talking to a hot guy, watching buffalo roam. How could I not love this?”
His expression warmed. “I like your attitude.”
“I don’t know why I let her rattle me in the first place.”
“Because she was being petty and unkind, and you didn’t like it. Nor did you deserve it.”
“She’s probably not a happy person.”
“Which is a shame, because Leonard tries so hard to please her. I sometimes want him to stand up to her, and tell her to knock it off, but he’s too much the Southern gentleman. Personally, I find it maddening. But I only see them here, and it’s just a weekend, so I try not to get caught up in their drama.”
The breeze blew and Paige shivered a little. “I’m going to need a coat tonight.”
“Dinner will be inside, as will the presentation. You don’t have to stick around for it, but at the same time, you might find it interesting.”
“I’d like to stay,” she said.
“Good.” He rose from the railing. “I’m going to go shower before dinner, but, Paige, I will never lie to you. You can always ask me anything, and I’ll always tell you the truth.”
* * *
