to design your next marketing campaign.”
“Are you good?”
“Now, how do you think I’m going to answer that?”
“Tell me you’re terrific. I like a woman with confidence.”
She took off her hat and dropped it on the bench between them. “Glad to hear it. Because when it comes to design, I know my stuff.” Even if I was blackballed from the industry and am highly unlikely to work in a major design firm or ad agency ever again.
“Where did you study?”
“The School of Visual Arts.”
“In New York?”
She poked him with her elbow. “Your look of complete surprise is not the least flattering.”
“That’s a great school.” He said it with real admiration.
She shouldn’t bask in his approval. But she did. “One of the best. I worked in New York for a while after I graduated.”
“What brought you home to Bozeman?”
“Now, that’s a long story. One you don’t need to hear right this minute.”
“But I would love to hear it.” He was leaning close again, his arm along the back of the bench behind her, all manly and much too exciting. “You should tell me. Now.” How did he do that? Have her longing to open her mouth and blather out every stupid mistake she’d ever made?
Uh-uh. Not happening. “But I’m not telling you now—so let it go.”
“Maybe you’ll tell me someday?” He sounded almost wistful, and that made her like him more, made her think that he was more than just some cocky rich guy, that there was at least a little vulnerability under the swagger.
“I guess anything’s possible,” she answered, keeping it vague, longing to move on from the uncomfortable subject.
Again, he retreated to his side of the bench. She drank a sip of ginger ale. Finally, he said, “You looked amazing in that stork costume.”
“Oh, please.”
“You did. You looked dorky and sweet and intriguing and original.”
“Dorky, huh?”
“Yeah. Dorky. And perfect. Almost as perfect as you look right now. I couldn’t wait to meet you. And now I never want to leave your side.”
“I’ll bet.”
He put up a hand as though swearing an oath. “Honest truth.”
She let out a big, fake sigh. “Not so perfect with babies, unfortunately. Poor little Gil—that’s Kayla and my cousin Trey’s baby, the one I was holding during the parade.”
“I remember.”
“Did you hear him wailing?”
“I did. Yes.”
“He’s probably scarred for life after having me hold him for the whole parade.”
“I’m not much of a baby person, either,” Carson confessed with very little regret.
She teased, “So you’re saying that we have something in common?”
“I’ll bet we have a lot in common.” He sounded way too sincere for her peace of mind. She tried to think of something light and easy to say in response, but she had nothing. He picked up her hat, tipped it back and forth so the rhinestone accents glittered in the sunlight, and then set it back down between them. “Any particular reason you rode the Gazette’s float?”
“Two reasons. One, I need work and I’m trying to get in good with the paper’s editor and publisher. I love Rust Creek Falls and I’m considering moving here permanently—if I can pull enough business together from my website and locally to make ends meet, that is.”
“And the second reason?”
She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “The stork costume fit me.”
He chuckled at that. Then he asked about her family. “Ryan told me that you’re staying at your grandmother’s boardinghouse.”
She explained that she had two sisters, one of whom still lived in Bozeman, as did their mom and dad. “My other sister, Claire, her husband, Levi, and Bekka, their little girl, live here at the boardinghouse. Levi manages a furniture store in Kalispell and Claire is the boardinghouse cook.”
Carson listened to her ramble on. He really seemed to want to know everything about her. She found his interest flattering.
Maybe too flattering. Was she playing with fire?
Of course not. She’d met an interesting, attentive man, and she was enjoying his company.
Nothing wrong with that.
Eventually, they got up and each took a beer from the coolers. They visited with friends and family until the barbecue came off the smokers; then they sat together at a picnic table with Ryan and Kristen, Trey and Kayla. Tessa’s sister Claire and her husband, Levi, joined them, too.
Tessa was having a fabulous time.
Her original fears about Carson seemed so silly now. He liked her. She liked him.
It was a beautiful day, and she was spending it with a handsome, hunky guy. It would go nowhere, and she was happy with that. Before very long he would return to his glamorous life in LA. She would stay right here in Rust Creek Falls, enjoying her summer break and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of her life.
Later, as twilight fell, she and Carson got a blanket from his car. They spread the blanket on the grass, got comfortable and talked some more.
She confessed that she was kind of at a crossroads, trying to decide where to take her graphic design career. There was her nice, safe job in Bozeman and the growing business she was building through her website. “I kind of want to try leaving the Bozeman job and focusing on freelancing independently, but it’s tricky.”
He stuck his long legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. “I thought you said you wanted to move here, to Rust Creek Falls.”
“I do, but that doesn’t really fit with my ambitions for work. I’m slowly accepting that eventually I need to choose between trying again for a more ambitious career and a move here.”
“Go big,” he suggested.
“And what, exactly, does that mean?”
He shrugged. “You need to be where the action is. Why don’t you move to LA?”
She set her hat on the blanket between them and stretched out on her back. Folding her hands on her stomach, she stared up at the darkening sky. “You weren’t listening to me.”
He leaned over
