8

IAN WAS GOING to kill Micah. When he’d suggested the two of them could help Kelsey with the furniture on Friday, he’d done so because he’d known Micah was also available. He’d even made sure their plans would get them back home before sundown so it wouldn’t interfere with Shabbat—not because he cared, but because Micah would. So it was extremely convenient that his friend just happened to set up a meeting with a potential buyer for Friday morning that couldn’t possibly be moved.

“If nothing else, you could have had the decency to pretend you had a meeting before I scheduled a time with Kelsey,” Ian said, filling his thermos with coffee. “That way I could have asked to leave later instead of trying to accommodate you.”

Unlike him, Micah was not dressed yet. Because unlike him, Micah was a lying liar.

His friend stuck a bagel in the toaster as though nothing was wrong. “I’m not pretending. I do have a meeting.”

“Which you set up after I told you I’d volunteered us.”

“That’s an unfounded accusation.”

Ian held out a hand. “Okay, let me see your phone so I can make it a founded one.”

Unsurprisingly, no phone appeared in his upturned palm. “Relax. You’re going to have a fun road trip.”

“The point isn’t to have fun. It’s to repay Kelsey for her time.”

He’d always intended to offer her payment and would have done so at their first meeting, but she’d shown up with that SHS pin and a bad attitude (not to mention three large dogs), and he’d completely forgotten. Offering her beer later had been just what he’d said at the time—a token gift. It certainly wasn’t payment.

So when Kelsey had reminded Ian that she was helping them for free, Ian had decided he couldn’t forget again. And when she’d acted almost human the other day, it had seemed like a good time to do it.

Although simply writing her a check would have been easier, Ian had gotten the sense that wouldn’t have gone over well with Wallace. Since he didn’t know what the dynamic was between father and daughter, or what Kelsey thought of her father suggesting her writing services, he’d followed her lead.

Now he was regretting that. Micah would have provided a buffer on this trip. Without his friend, it would be him and Kelsey trading barbs all day.

Or worse—him and Kelsey not trading barbs. If they were getting along, and if he believed Kelsey didn’t personally have it in for him or the brewery, then Ian wasn’t sure how he’d survive the car ride. In that situation, Kelsey would become not an enemy but . . . something. What exactly, Ian wasn’t sure, but it included being an extremely attractive woman who he was trapped in a car with for six hours.

Once upon a time, that might have been the kind of situation Ian looked forward to, but that time had vanished many years ago. He had too much work to do to indulge in anything as frivolous as dating. The brewery had to come first, and in his experience, women didn’t like knowing they couldn’t be his top priority. Not that anyone liked it, he supposed, but it ruled out even casual relationships.

Of course, it was still Kelsey who was provoking these thoughts, and the words dating and relationship were therefore irrelevant. The world was full of pretty faces, and those attached to ugly personalities held no appeal. It was yet to be seen whether he and Kelsey could spend more than five minutes alone together without blood being spilled.

An SUV hauling a small trailer pulled up in front of the house, and suddenly a new concern popped into Ian’s head, one he should have been worrying about far more than Kelsey’s sweet eyes or bitter attitude. Her dogs. There was no way he could get in the vehicle with them. None. Just thinking about it had his hands sweating and his heart pumping so fast as to make the coffee pointless.

He’d need an excuse. Something he could toss out at the last second that would sound plausible. Micah would back him up, but Ian hated putting his friend in a position where he’d have to lie.

Ian had been looking out the window, and he ducked back into the living room, feeling like a fool. Here he was, a twenty-eight-year-old man who couldn’t get into an SUV with dogs. He knew it wasn’t impossible to get over his issue, but it was so far down on his list of priorities that he had never bothered to deal with it. Most of the time it didn’t even come up. He could handle dogs in public as long as they didn’t get too close; it was dogs in confined spaces that were another story.

“You okay?” Micah noticed him pacing, and he stopped adding cream cheese to his bagel.

Cringing, Ian motioned toward the window. “Does she have the dogs?”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned on his friend’s face. He dropped his knife and peered out the window. “I don’t see any. Need me to run interference?”

Ian took a calming breath that wasn’t particularly effective. Then another. “Only if it turns out she does have them.”

“I’ll cover for you. No worries.”

The way Micah had his back—never blinking, never missing a beat—should have been reassuring, but it only made Ian feel more ridiculous and embarrassed. “Thanks.”

“She’s coming up the path.” Micah shoved Ian toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. “Hide. You can’t be standing around looking healthy if I need to tell her you’ve been vomiting all morning.”

“That’s what you’re going with—vomit?” Ian shook his head and darted into his bedroom.

“You prefer I tell her you’ve had the shits all night?”

His blood pressure was already through the roof, so it wasn’t like Micah could make it worse, but his friend was sure trying. “How can you manage to be an asshole while simultaneously helping?”

“Not being an asshole,” Micah said, his mouth full of bagel. “I’m doing you a favor by lying for your pathetic ass. It’s a mitzvah. Now hide.”

Ian ducked into the room as he heard the door open.

“Hey, Kelsey,” he heard Micah say.

“Hi.” Kelsey sounded surprised and suspicious, probably because Micah was in plaid pajama pants rather than road trip attire. “Are you guys coming with?”

“Actually, I can’t go. Got a meeting this morning. Are your dogs out there though? Can I say hi?”

Ian rolled his eyes. Micah was so subtle.

“No,” Kelsey said. “I need the space in the car. Is Ian coming?”

In the bedroom, Ian let out a long breath, and his hand uncurled around the door knob.

“Yes, I’m coming!” he yelled. He took one more breath, then returned to the living room before Micah could start making up stories about his digestive system for laughs. “Let’s do this.”

Kelsey stood in the doorway, looking ready to move furniture. Her hair was pulled up again, and she wore a heavy flannel shirt over a pair of beat-up jeans and some solid-looking work boots. Strangely, the shapeless, made-for-heavy-labor outfit didn’t detract from her appearance. She could do nothing about that cherubic face, but for once her outward look matched the tough, take-no-shit attitude that lurked inside. Ian wasn’t sure if it was the alignment between her inside and outside that made her seem more appealing at the moment, or if he’d finally spent enough time in Alaska to begin appreciating the local dress code.

Either way, he found himself hoping for more snark on the drive, because flannel had never been such a turn-on.

---

*   *   *

“HAVE YOU BEEN to Wasilla before?” Kelsey asked as she pulled the SUV onto the highway heading north.

Ian sipped his coffee, watching the paw print charm dangling from her rearview mirror swing back and forth. “No. Micah’s been hitting the road, not me. I’ve been to Anchorage and Juneau, and a couple of smaller towns between, but that’s about it. All I know about Wasilla is that it’s where—”

“Don’t say it.” Kelsey held up her right hand. “That’s all anyone in the rest of the country knows about Wasilla.”

Ian fought down a laugh. “Fine. Is it bigger than Helen?”

“Yes, much bigger. We’re growing, but we’re not that big yet.”

“Not even in the summer?” He was only partially joking.

Kelsey sucked on her bottom lip, which had the unfortunate effect of drawing Ian’s attention toward her mouth. He’d never been fascinated by lips before, but Kelsey’s were always pink and pouty in a way that stirred the lower half of his body.

Ian turned his gaze back to the road, willing his cock to behave. Kelsey was starting to be a whole lot of firsts for him.

“Helen’s population goes up in the summer by a third maybe?” Kelsey said, oblivious to his thoughts and sarcasm. “Enough to be annoying, but still not nearly as big as Wasilla.”

“But also necessary.”

She sighed. “Yeah, necessary. I know. My brother’s sightseeing business relies on tourism. It’s not the tourist expansion that bugs me except when I’m trying to find a parking spot. It’s the people who come and stay, who develop open land, who open chains or franchises that threaten our local businesses—that’s who.”

Ian cupped his hands around his thermos, even though the SUV was perfectly warm. Clutching the coffee gave him something to do besides fidget. “What about those of us who want to open a local non-chain business?”

Kelsey shot him one of those sardonic half smiles. “Are you trying to pick a fight, or do you want me to absolve you of your sins?”

“Not sure. Let me think about it.”

“It’s a long drive and not usually exciting. You have time.”

What might be not-exciting in Kelsey’s world was still scenic in Ian’s. Once the outlying bits of Helen faded into the distance, he felt like he was being transported into another world—a wild one of rugged mountains and lush trees and endless sky. This was the backdrop that had driven him to beg his grandparents to take him to visit Alaska in the first place. He could imagine he was in the middle of nowhere, tossed into a fantasy world where yetis and talking wolves might show up any moment.

At least, as long as he could ignore the highway, the road signs, and the other vehicles zipping by.

Finished with his coffee, Ian set the empty thermos down and glanced behind Kelsey at the back seat. She’d tossed her jacket on it, and the SHS button was missing. Now, that was even more interesting than the scenery. It had been there two days ago when he’d run into her by the library. Had their conversation had an impact—had she been wearing it to goad him? Or maybe it had simply fallen off?

The silence in the car wasn’t precisely comfortable, but it was peaceful, and just as importantly, it kept him from glancing at Kelsey as she drove. Ian broke it reluctantly. “I see your SHS pin is missing.”

“Thirty minutes!” Kelsey slapped the steering wheel.

“What?”

“It took you thirty minutes to notice. Damn it.” She smacked the wheel again. “I had you pegged for under ten. How dare you do this to me?”

Unsure whether to laugh or get pissed off, Ian stared at her, jaw open, for a second while he processed her unexpected reaction. “Who were you taking bets with?”

“No one, thank God. You’d have let me down for real.”

He rested his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. “I don’t believe you. Actually, I do. Not sure what’s worse.”

Kelsey snorted. “Please. It’s funny.”

“To you.”

“Yeah.” She paused. “Admit it—you think it’s funny too.”

The smile he’d been fighting made Ian’s lips twitch. “Mildly, maybe.”

“Whatever.” She waved him off. “Yeah, I got rid of the pin when I found out it’s the Lipins who are behind the SHS. Don’t get me wrong—I agree with the sentiment. But I can’t support them.”

“Ah, right. Because of the feud. It’s the Montagues and Capulets in this town.” This time he did fully smile, thanks to the absurdity of it.

Kelsey, however, did not smile. “I hate Romeo and Juliet.”

“Then why did you name your dogs after them?” He’d overheard her introducing the dogs to Micah, and that was probably why the play had popped into his head when thinking about the town. Shakespeare had been torture for him, but random bits and pieces remained lodged in his brain. Somewhere his old high school English teacher was cackling with glee.

“I didn’t name them,” Kelsey said, reaching for her water bottle. “They’re rescues, so we’re all stuck with the names someone else provided. But Helen’s not as bad as fair Verona; no one’s being murdered in the streets.”

She grimaced in a way that made the unspoken yet practically audible.

“It’s still something.” Seriously messed up was the phrase that sprang to Ian’s mind, but seeing as he was trapped in a car with Kelsey, insulting her family—especially as they were helping him—didn’t seem wise. “Helen should come with a warning sign. You might keep people from moving there if it did. No one told me it was a war zone.”

“Ha.” Kelsey swallowed her water poorly and coughed. “That wouldn’t suit my father, who is all about development and profits. No way he’d have warned you about how screwed up we all are.”

Ian was surprised to hear her describe the situation as screwed up, but on further reflection, perhaps he shouldn’t be. For all her scowliness, Kelsey didn’t seem like the sort of person to let her biases cloud her vision. Or maybe that was why she was so scowly—she realized how messed up the world was.

“Maybe not your father,” Ian said. “But the real estate agent could have. It might have lessened the shock the first time Tasha tossed a permit request back at my face.”

He’d added Tasha as an afterthought, mostly to himself, but the name caught Kelsey’s attention. “Tasha who?”

“McCleod. She works for the town clerk’s office. Do you know her?”

Kelsey was silent for a moment as she passed a slow-moving RV, but her lips—why was he staring at them again?—were upturned. Not exactly smiling, but knowing. “It’s Helen. If someone’s around my age, I probably know of them from school. And yeah, I know who Tasha is. She was a couple grades above me.”

“At first I thought she was just a stickler about her forms, but I’ve lately discovered she’s very involved in the Save Helen Society.”

Kelsey snapped her fingers. “Aha! If I’d known that, I would have figured out what the SHS is about ages ago. Of course she’s involved in it. Tasha is a Lipin on her mother’s side, and she married into a Lipin-supporting family.”

Ian burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. The town was so ridiculous. “Naturally you are fully informed about her heritage and her husband’s family. And I thought my family had issues.”

“Everybody’s family has issues. Anyone who says otherwise is lying or naive. But you’re not wrong. Ours are somewhat unusual.” Kelsey shot him a quick glance. “Want to talk about yours?”

That killed Ian’s laughter real quick. He might not be actively fighting with Kelsey at the moment, but she most definitely struck him as the sort of person who would use anything and everything you told her against you at some later point if you pissed her off.

Not that he ever wanted to discuss his family’s issues regardless. “No.”

“Good. How about some music instead?”