Page 3 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
Back then, both of our mothers had been beside themselves that we were spending time together, taking every opportunity to not-so-subtly hint at their dream for us to marry one another. Unfortunately for our moms, Milo had always been more of a brother than a love interest.
Besides, the minute he brought Sara to Prescott, everyone saw he’d found the right woman. She was his other half. Kind and sweet, she loved Milo with all her heart. All she wanted was for him to be happy, and gossiping with me for an hour made him happy.
It made me happy too.
We teased the Coffee Club relentlessly, but the fact was, Milo and I weren’t much better. Not much happened in our small town that neither of us knew about. Though, unlike the Club, we did our best not to spread rumors. When we’d been younger, both of us had been more loose-lipped. But now, for the most part, our gossip stayed between the two of us and the regular booth we sat in each week.
When Milo turned from the counter, I plucked my purse off the bench seat and started toward the door, waving good-bye to our waitress, who stood behind the counter at the back of the restaurant.
“Gentlemen.” I greeted the Coffee Club at the row of square tables they’d pushed together in the center of the restaurant.
A chorus of “Mornings” and “Hi, Maisy” filled the room.
“What’s the news today?” I smirked, knowing no one would answer and fess up to the fact they’d been gossiping about me.
As I’d expected, all eyes suddenly found the menus, paper place mats and salt shakers fascinating. These guys never seemed to realize just how loud they were or that Milo and I were chronic eavesdroppers.
“Maybe one of these days you’ll invite me and Milo to your table.” I did my best to sound hopeful even though I was kidding.
A couple of the men mumbled but Dean Taylor spoke up for the group. “You know how it goes, Maisy. We sit here for hours. You’ve got to be retired to have the time to join this old group.”
“Well, when the motel goes bankrupt because of its new name, maybe then I’ll qualify.” A couple of faces flushed and Dean’s mouth fell open. I giggled and waved as I walked to the door, calling, “Have a nice day!” over my shoulder.
The little bell on the door dinged as Milo pushed it open for me. “You shouldn’t provoke them.”
I shrugged and stepped out onto the sidewalk. “It’s not like they’re going to say anything about me that hasn’t already been said or printed in the weekly paper.”
“Good point.” He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and walked toward his cruiser.
Sometimes I had to remind myself that Milo was a cop, not just the lanky boy with a buzz cut who used to chase me around the playground. He still had the buzz cut and was as lanky as ever—his tan deputy shirt never did seem to fit his lean frame—but standing by his police car, he looked much more official and grown up.
“What are you doing today?” I asked. Milo had always been forthcoming with me about his work, so much so that it had gotten him into trouble a few years back. I still asked and he still told me, but I was more careful about keeping my mouth shut around others, especially his boss, the sheriff, who happened to be my best friend’s husband.
“I’m on patrol today so I’ll go check in at the station, then head out.”
“Then I’ll say good luck. May your day be filled with a plethora of speeding tickets.”
“Thank you.” He smiled but it fell as he looked in the seat of the car. “Shit. I’ve gotta run home. I forgot my sunscreen and Sara gets pissed when I don’t have it on patrol days.”
My eyes immediately found the wrinkled scar on Milo’s forehead and the one underneath his jaw. His arms were covered with long sl
eeves, but underneath the starched cotton was a pattern of burn scars from an explosion he’d been caught in years ago. A sunburn would be the worst thing for his scars and Sara was smart to push the sunscreen.
“Okay, bye.” I waved. “Think about talking to Nick about her birthday.”
“Will do. Bye.” He waved back before sliding into his car, backing out onto Main Street and zooming toward his house.
I smiled at his urgency. Not many men would put their wife’s skin-care directives above getting to work on time, but Milo would do anything to make Sara happy. If wearing sunscreen at all times made her smile, he’d be the first to slather it on.
Seeing their relationship made me long for one of my own. I wanted a strong and honest man to come crashing into my life. I wanted to be swept off my feet in a whirlwind romance. But more than anything, I wanted to find a man who I could trust completely. A man who wouldn’t hide things from me.
Unfortunately, pickings were slim in small-town Montana and I wasn’t about to settle for anything less than perfect. It wasn’t just my heart on the line. I had a little boy to consider first. My three-year-old son, Coby, deserved the best, and since I’d made enough mistakes with his biological father, I’d vowed not to bring an unworthy stepfather into the mix.
Even if that meant I stayed single for the rest of my life.
If nothing else, I had my daydreams. I was currently holding out hope that a Chris clone—Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth or Chris Pine—would wander into town and fall madly in love with me and my son. If I happened to be out of open motel rooms at the time he breezed into town, I’d gladly offer him my own bedroom for free.
“Good morning, Maisy!”
