mean men. She likes messing with men.”
“Everyone needs a hobby. So how are things? Have you convinced your brothers to leave?”
His expression tightened. “No. They’re determined. Solidarity in numbers and all that.”
“I’m sorry things aren’t working out, but I’m not surprised. You’re right about the solidarity thing. I’m a triplet and my sisters and I always protected each other.” She thought about the conversation she was going to have with them later. “We still do.”
“Identical triplets?”
“Uh-huh. It was fun when we were younger. Now it’s less thrilling to be mistaken for someone else. We try to look as different as possible.” She tilted her head. “Now that I think about it, looking different has gotten easier as we’ve gotten older and started developing our own style.” She glanced down at the blue sweater she’d pulled over jeans. “Assuming we have something close to style.”
Jo appeared with her lemondrop and a beer. She set down the drinks, winked at Finn, then walked away.
“I’m going to ignore her,” Finn muttered.
“Probably for the best.” Dakota took a sip of her drink. “What happens now? If your brothers are staying, are you going back to Alaska?”
“No. I talked to Geoff.” He took a drink of his beer. “I threatened him, he threatened me back.”
“And you’re taking a house together on the shore?”
“Not exactly. He said Sasha and Stephen were both going to be on the show, so I volunteered to work as his pilot. Flying contestants around, that sort of thing. I’m staying.”
Dakota told herself that having a tall, handsome, caring man in town was a meaningless bit of info. That any pleasure she took in sitting next to him, having a drink, was just her natural joy in spending time with a fellow human. She wasn’t impressed by the strong line of his jaw, the crinkles by his eyes when he smiled or the way he filled out his plaid shirt.
“You’re a pilot?”
He nodded absently. “I have a cargo company back in South Salmon.” He picked up his beer. “I’d rather knock both of them senseless and drag them back home,” he said. “But I’m doing my best to show restraint.”
“Think of this as a growing experience,” she said.
“I’d rather not.”
She smiled. “Poor you. Do you have a place to stay for a few weeks?” The words replayed in her mind. “I, ah, mean that if you want something other than a hotel room, I can recommend a couple of furnished rentals, or…” She swallowed and held on to her drink.
Finn turned to her, the stool shifting until he faced her. His dark eyes started on her face, dropped a little lower, before returning to lock with her gaze.
There was something intense about all that attention. Something that made her previous rocklike stomach give a little wiggle. Nothing overt. Just the slightest quivery shift.
“I have a place,” he said, his voice low and a little gravelly. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I, ah, do think your brothers could be on the show for a while.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He leaned toward her. “I have a life back in Alaska. The plane cargo business comes with a partner. Bill is going to explode when I tell him I have to stay.” He ran one hand through his dark hair. “It’s early spring. In about six weeks, we’ll start our busy season. I need to be back by then. They should have come to their senses by then, right?”
She wanted to give him hope, but knew it would be silly to lie. “I don’t know. It depends on how much they’re enjoying themselves. They could get voted off early.”
“And then head for L.A.” He grimaced. “That’s what Geoff said. At least here, I can keep my eye on them. Kids. Giant pain in the ass. You have any?”
“No.” She sipped her drink, searching for a shift in topic. “It’s just the three of you?”
“Yeah. Our parents were killed in a plane crash.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. For years it was just us, you know? My brothers were great when they were young. There were a few scrapes, but they tried to be responsible. What the hell happened?”
She stared into his dark eyes. “Don’t take it personally. You’ve done a great job with them.”
“Obviously not.”
She touched his arm, feeling heat through the soft cotton of his shirt. Note to self, she thought. It had been a very long time since she’d had a man in her bed. She would have to do something to fix that.
He was staring at her. It took her a second to remember she’d been making a point.
“Um, this is just a blip in their lives. You see it as huge, but I don’t think it will be. They’re testing boundaries, testing themselves, but you’ll be here if they need help.” She carefully removed her hand, then waited for the sense of heat and strength to fade.
It didn’t.
“They won’t ask for help,” he grumbled, obviously not the least bit affected by her. Which was very annoying.
“Maybe they will. Besides, you should take pride in the fact that they’re comfortable enough with themselves and their lives to risk disappointing you. They’re not worried about losing your love and support.”
The glower from that morning returned. “You’re way too happy a person. You know that, right?”
She laughed. “I’m actually pretty normal on the happy scale. I think you’re jaded.”
“You got that right.” He drained his beer, then tossed a couple of bills on the bar. “Thanks for listening.”
“You’re welcome.”
He stood. “I guess I’ll see you at the show or on the set.”
“I’ll be there.”
Their eyes locked. For a second, she thought he might lean in and kiss her. Her mouth was more than ready to take him for a test drive. But he didn’t. Instead he gave her a slight smile and headed out.
She stared after him, her gaze dropping to his very nice butt and lingering. They knew how to grow ’em in South Salmon, she thought, raising her glass toward the north. At least she thought it was north.
She told herself that finding Finn attractive was a good thing. As far as she could tell, she hadn’t had a single sexual thought since last fall, when her gynecologist had told her about her inability to have children. If she was stirring, so to speak, then it must mean she was healing. Healing was good.
Having Finn kiss her would have been better, but at this point, she would take whatever she could get.
