Chapter 2

Chapter Two

F inn

The Devil’s Brew smells like sawdust and cheap whiskey, just the way I like it. The heavy oak beams overhead creak every now and then, a reminder of how old this place is—like everything else in Devil’s Peak.

I take a swig of beer and glare at the knot of my so-called friends sitting around the scarred wooden table. Barron, my best-friend from the military, is visiting from Copper Mountain. He’s a burly lumberjack with arms like tree trunks and when he laughs hard his massive shoulders shake. King, his cocky cowboy brother, grins like he’s waiting to add fuel to the fire. Liam leans back in his chair, boots propped up on the edge of the table, while Slate and Zane swap stories about the last brawl that almost got them banned from here.

Grady, my best friend in Devil’s Peak, is the only one pretending to listen to me with anything close to sympathy, though his smirk betrays him.

“So let me get this straight,” King drawls, tipping his hat back with one finger. “Your new neighbor is a curvy little nurse with a sassy mouth, and you’re mad about it?”

“I’m mad about her chickens,” I snap, slamming my bottle down harder than I mean to. The table shudders, and Barron’s beer sloshes over the edge of his pint.

“The chickens?” Barron chokes out between guffaws.

“Yes, the damn chickens,” I growl. “Every morning at the crack of dawn—squawking like the world’s ending. If I don’t strangle that rooster soon, I’ll lose my mind.”

Fox snorts, wiping at his mouth. “You’re already halfway there, old man.”

I shoot him a look that would make lesser men sweat, but Fox just leans forward, his grin widening. “Don’t think we didn’t notice the part you’re trying to gloss over.”

“What part?” I ask, though I already regret it.

“The part where she’s got you all twisted up,” Slate says, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on, Finn. You can’t fool us. You’re always grumpy, but this is a whole new level.”

“She complains about everything,” I bite out, ignoring the heat crawling up my neck. “Loud mining equipment, Shep digging up her flowerbeds?—”

“Shep’s got good taste,” King interrupts, smirking. “You ever think he likes her because she’s, you know, not an insufferable hermit?”

The table erupts into laughter, and I glare at every last one of them. “She’s impossible,” I insist. “Always meddling, always judging people who actually work for a living.”

“Uh-huh,” Grady says, his voice dripping with skepticism. “And how much of your time at work is spent thinking about her?”

“I don’t—” I start, but Slate cuts me off with a low whistle.

“Busted,” he says, tipping his beer in my direction.

I groan, raking a hand through my hair. “You’re all idiots.”

“She’s got you whipped already,” Zane says, shaking his head. “Poor bastard doesn’t even know it.”

“She’s nothing but a nuisance,” I say, though the words feel hollow.

Grady raises a brow. “A nuisance you can’t stop staring at, apparently.”

“I’m not—” I start, but the image of Tessa flashes in my mind: the way her eyes light up when she’s furious, how her curves fill out those jeans she wears when she’s gardening. I shake my head and scowl.

“She’s… just my neighbor,” I mutter.

“Sure,” Liam says, rolling his eyes. “And the sky’s pink.”

Barron leans forward, his grin downright wolfish. “Let me guess—she’s sweet. Curvy. Pretty. And she gives as good as she gets when you argue.”

“Shut up,” I snap, but the heat crawling up my neck spreads to my ears.

Barron throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, man. You’re done for.”

“I’m not done for anything,” I growl. “She’s a pain in the ass.”

“Pain in the ass or not,” King says, “it’s been what? Four years since you retired from service and moved back to Devil’s Peak? About time someone came along to shake you up.”

“I don’t need shaking up,” I snap.

“Sure you don’t,” Fox says, grinning. “That’s why you’re sitting here, complaining about her like a lovesick teenager.”

The table erupts into laughter again, and I grit my teeth. “You’re all a bunch of jackasses.”

“And you’re a grumpy old man with a neighbor who’s clearly under your skin,” Grady says, clapping me on the shoulder. “You might want to figure out why that is.”

I finish my beer in one long pull and push back from the table, ignoring their knowing smirks as I stand.

“I’ve had enough of this,” I mutter, grabbing Shep’s leash from where it’s looped around my chair. “Come on, Shep.”

The dog looks up from where he’s sprawled at my feet, wagging his tail lazily.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” King calls after me as I head for the door.

I flip him off without looking back, their laughter chasing me into the cool night air.

Back at my cabin, the first thing I notice is the light spilling out of Tessa’s kitchen window. It casts a soft glow over her yard, illuminating the neat rows of flowers and vegetables she’s planted.

She’s bent over one of the beds and the way her jeans hug her generous curves are enough to make my dick twitch and throb stubbornly. No other woman has ever had this effect on me, just the way her hair falling in loose waves over her shoulder as she works does things to me. Even from here, I can see the determination in her movements, the way she bites her lip when she’s focused.

Shep tugs on the leash, pulling me closer to the fence that separates our yards. Tessa looks up at the sound of his excited bark, her eyes narrowing when she spots me.

“Back from the bar already?” she calls, her voice laced with sarcasm. “I thought you miners drank until dawn.”

“Not all of us have time for socializing,” I retort, unhooking Shep’s leash. He bolts toward her, tail wagging like a maniac.

“Traitor,” I mutter under my breath as Tessa kneels to greet him, her laughter soft and warm as she ruffles his fur.

“He’s got good taste,” she says, smirking up at me. “Unlike some people.”

I lean against the fence, crossing my arms over my chest. “You know, for someone who’s always complaining about me, you seem to have a lot of time for my dog.”

“He’s the only decent thing about you,” she shoots back, standing and brushing the dirt off her hands.

I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. “You’ve got a mouth on you, Nurse Sunshine.”

“And you’ve got an ego bigger than this mountain,” she fires back. But there’s a spark in her eyes, a flicker of something that makes my chest tighten.

We stare at each other for a moment, the air between us charged. Then Shep barks, breaking the spell.

“Better keep an eye on your dog,” Tessa says, turning back to her garden. “He’s been eyeing my flowers again.”

“And your rooster’s been eyeing my sanity,” I counter.

She laughs, the sound light and genuine, and I feel something shift inside me. It’s unsettling, the way she gets under my skin—not just with her barbs, but with her laugh, her smile, the way she looks at me like she’s trying to figure me out.

I push off the fence and head toward my cabin, Shep trotting at my heels.

As I reach the door, I glance back. Tessa’s still in her garden, humming softly to herself as she works. For a moment, I let myself watch her, my chest tightening again.

“Damn,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head.

She’s a pain in the ass, no doubt about it. But she’s also sweet. And curvy. And sassy in a way that makes me want to argue with her just to see her eyes light up.

Maybe my friends were right.

Maybe I am done for.