4. Skyler

It’s too fucking bright.

They say the mountain air is good for your health, but right now, I feel like it’s sucking the life out of an already drained husk.

Head pounding, stomach roiling, I hustle back through the hotel lobby. Thank God that cute blonde was just staying on the other side of the convention center.

I never asked which convention she was here for and I’m just praying it wasn’t Global Tech. I don’t think I can tolerate any more surprise encounters.

Terry spots me across the wide floor and arches an eyebrow before making her way over with two coffees in her hands. She’s long-legged, with bright blue eyes and flowing brown hair. She kind of gives Sex in the City vibes.

Always pristine. Tailored. If we didn’t have to work together nearly every day, I probably would have taken her to bed months ago. But as it is, I keep her firmly in the friends category.

And Terry? I’m pretty sure she thinks of me as a girlfriend. Or a dog.

She passes me a coffee and I groan in relief. “How’d you know?”

She rolls her eyes. “You have a pattern, sir. When I went past your room this morning, and you weren’t there, I did the math. I also know you’d rather eat a porcupine than be late for a meeting.”

Her gaze rolls over me, unimpressed. “You look like shit.”

I sip the coffee, burning my tongue. “I need to go straighten up quick. There’s time, right?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I’ll stall. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

I’m back in ten. Eyedrops for my bloodshot eyes. Water and gel for my severe bedhead.

“Better.”

She passes me a folder and we start down the hall towards our first panel. “If you had a girlfriend, you wouldn’t run into these predicaments.”

“You just say that because you’re sick of covering for me.”

She laughs. “I am. That’s true. Why don’t you just date closer to home?”

“I don’t shit where I eat.”

She grunts, smiling. “Eloquent.”

“It’s a small-town thing. You’re Chicago-born. You wouldn’t understand.”

We push through a double set of doors. “Try me.”

“It’d get messy.”

Same goes for her. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. “We all know each other. It’s like one, big tangled clusterfuck.”

“You make it sound so appealing.”

“Oh, it is. Everybody’s cousins with somebody else. It’s like that Kevin Bacon game, six degrees of separation, except there’s only one degree of separation.”

“Meaning, you all know each other?”

“You’re catching on. And if I date said girl, and it doesn’t work out, said girl’s brother is most likely a friend of mine, or of my dad’s, and then those guys are giving me shit. And it’s front-page news.”

We both sit at the table at the far end of the little conference room. We’re the first to arrive, despite my shenanigans.

She sits back, crossing her legs. Her skirt slips up her thigh a little, and I do my best not to notice how long those legs are.

She waves a hand. “So date someone from farther away.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing, but nobody wants to move back to Silver Bend.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve asked them?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Like… right away? A first date question?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

My ears heat up. “Why waste time if they’d never consider it?”

She laughs, loud and heartily. Wiping a tear away, she shakes her head. “Oh, Skyler. For such a handsome guy, you are totally hopeless.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

Our clients file in and all conversation about dating dries up.

Thank the lord.

I can’t take any more heat from Terry.

Because the truth is, she’s spot on.

I am hopeless.

How am I supposed to convince some woman to move to Silver Bend when I didn’t ever want to land there? I have my friends, that’s my saving grace. They all farm, they love the land, and they love Silver Bend. Me? I’m only there because my brother isn’t.

When a farmer has sons, there’s an expectation that one of them will carry on the legacy. One of them has to stay.

I’m the older son. And what’s more, I owe a debt to my dad. The kind that can never be repaid.

Walking away isn’t an option.