I stand back and survey my handiwork.
I’m very pleased with myself. I’ve covered every inch of Easton Wilder’s work cube with sticky notes. His computer, his keyboard, his desk, the walls of the cube, the front of the desk. I used six different colors, arranged in many patterns, including a smiley face of sticky notes glommed on Easton’s computer screen. It’s basically art.
Today is Easton’s birthday, and my sticky-note “gift” is payback for his last birthday “present” to me, which was replacing the contents of my deep bottom file drawer with a terrarium. Stones, little plastic plants, a leopard gecko.
Some people might call our pranks mean, but Easton and I, we’ve always been like this. Finding ways to make each other’s lives… more colorful. More interesting. And yeah, sometimes a little more difficult—but in the best possible way.
I do a happy jiggle to celebrate my own brilliance. Easton’s gonna love it. Or hate it, which is the same thing when it comes to lifetime frenemies.
On the other side of the large, converted barn that houses our offices, the door squeaks open, and I freeze.
“You must be Bear,” my birthday victim says. “I’m Easton.”
Oh! I forgot. It’s not just Easton’s birthday but also Bear Warden’s first day of work. Bear is the celebrity chef that my employer, Wilder Adventures, hired to teach our clients to forage for food and then cook it in the woods over an open flame, just like Bear does on his wildly successful YouTube channel.
“Ah, right, you’re the water guy,” a deep, rumbly voice—exactly the kind you’d expect to hear from a man whose nickname is “Bear”—interjects.
“That’s right—rafting, kayaking, and canoeing. That’s me.”
There’s a moment of silence. I picture the two mountain men clasping and shaking big meaty paws.
Apparently, they haven’t seen me yet, which makes sense, because I left the lights and heat off when I came in, in hopes of carrying out my mission undetected.
“Hey,” Easton says. “We’re all super glad to have you here this spring.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” Bear replies. “It’s an I-scratch-your-back-you-scratch-mine situation. My viewers are going to really dig meeting five new mountain man brothers.”
“That’s good news. We’re planning on all this generating an insane number of new trip signups, and that’s above and beyond the campers you bring in for your workshops.” Easton clears his throat. “Hey, Bear?”
He sounds nervous and a little confessional. Now would be the right moment for me to unfreeze, duck out from behind this cube wall, and say hi, but Easton’s tone stops me. I can’t remember the last time he sounded uncertain about anything.
“Yeah?” Bear responds.
“Rumor has it you’re in the market for a partner, and that you’re willing to consider someone working remotely.”
Wait, what?
“Rumor’s right,” Bear rumbles.
“I’d love to be on your radar screen for that.”
Whoa.
Whoa!
Easton—Easton Wilder, baby brother of the Wilder family, loyal member of the Wilder Adventures business—is chasing a job outside of Wilder.
Leaving Wilder.
My hands are cold. Probably because I never turned on the lights or the heat. Definitely because of that. It’s barely sixty degrees in here.
“Absolutely,” Bear responds. “I don’t have anyone yet that I’m all-in on, so I’d be happy to consider you. I like what you’re doing with the Wilder TikTok and YouTube—those are new, right?”
“Yeah. Insta didn’t feel like enough for what we were trying to do.”
“No, no, it’s not—your instincts are dead on,” Bear says heartily. “I’ll take a closer look, but I liked what I saw. You know your brother is assigning two of his people to be co-leaders with me, right?”
“That’s why I’m bringing this up now. I’d like to be one of them.”
Oh. No. Apart from the deep weirdness of learning that Easton might be quitting the family business, it’s inconvenient that he wants to be a co-leader on Bear’s trip, because I also wanted to be one of them. Easton and I don’t get assigned to stuff together. Gabe—our boss and Easton’s oldest brother—will basically do anything to avoid having us work together. Something about squabbling like four-year-olds.
He’s not wrong.
Easton continues, “If you liked what you saw on TikTok and YouTube, and you could mention that to Gabe, it’ll give him a prod to make me one of the co-leaders.”
“I can do that,” Bear says.
I can’t stand here any longer, hiding in plain sight. I have to turn around and reveal to Easton that I’ve overheard his whole conversation and know he’s thinking about bailing out of Wilder Adventures.
For one thing, it’s wrong to eavesdrop.
For another, I can’t pass up an opportunity to make Easton squirm.
I turn and step out of his cube, intending to say, “Easton Wilder, wait till your big brother hears about this!”
Of course, I won’t actually tell Gabe. I give Easton shit for sport, but that doesn’t mean I want him to get taken apart molecule by molecule by his boss and sibling.
But whatever I was planning or not planning to say, it’s moot. The words dry up on my tongue.
Bear Warden on the screen did not prepare me for Bear Warden in the flesh. He’s gorgeous.
I mean, not quite as gorgeous as Easton, standing beside him, but ever since Easton started dating mean girls in middle school, I’ve discounted him as a man and thought of him more as a work of art with a sense of humor and bad taste in women. It’s a helpful, ever-present reminder that he’s off limits, even as an object of fantasy.
The man next to Easton is probably six-foot-four. Broad as a barn, though not the Wilder-brother molded-from-marble version. Softer, more dad-bodied—if your dad was a grizzly bear. He has reddish-brown hair, a thick and impeccably trimmed coppery beard, full lips, and bright blue eyes. Up close, he’s vivid.
Something has happened to my brain.
Well, really, to my body.
As in, my body—specifically, my vagina—hijacked all the blood from my brain.
Which is a big deal, because ever since I moved Easton from the middle-school-crush category to nope, this doesn’t happen to me very often, with men or women.
When I recover the power of speech, I’ve completely borked my stick-it-to-Easton entrance, and all I can say is, “Hey. I’m Hanna Hott.” And I extend my hand.
“Very nice to meet you, Hanna,” Bear says, taking my hand in his. His dwarfs mine—and I’m used to outsized men. “It’s always a delight to meet women who love the woods.”
I leave my hand where it is a beat too long, enjoying the giantness of his, and the warmth, and the way his eyes are locked onto mine. I’m not sure anyone has ever delivered quite so much eye contact over a handshake. I’m a fan.
“I’m yours,” I blurt. Then I hear myself, clap a hand over my mouth, and correct, “I mean, I’m a huge fan of yours!”
Bear beams. “I’m flattered,” he says, all grizzly gruff. I swear I can feel the bass tones of his voice in my underpants. That’s a thing, right?
I’m not sure what to say next, because there are no words in my brain.
“Bear,” Easton says. “You’ll have to excuse us for a moment. Hanna and I have to settle a quick work-related issue before the team meeting starts.” And he grabs my arm and hustles me toward the front of the converted barn that houses the Wilder offices.
My eyes, still on Bear, are quite likely the last part of me to leave headquarters before Easton yanks me out of the big red barn and into the watery Oregon spring sunshine. The air’s still morning-moist, the summer dust not yet kicked up, the smell of juniper and sage rich in my nose. We’re standing on former ranch land, nestled in a stand of windbreak trees that surround the original house and barn.
“Hanna,” Easton demands. “What did you hear. I’m sorry. Overhear?”
“Everything.”
His eyes get even bigger. I’ve known Easton since we started kindergarten in the same classroom, and it’s not easy to throw him off his game. I think that’s part of what’s so fun about giving him a hard time; it’s like hitting a Weeble. It wobbles, but it always bounces back.
Even in this case. It takes him a beat longer than usual, but he finds his feet. I can tell because he shutters the panic behind his eyes and gives me a classic Easton smirk.
“But I know you won’t tell Gabe,” he says. “Because this is your perfect opportunity to get rid of me. If I’m working remotely for Bear, I won’t be around Wilder headquarters nearly as much.” He gestures to the barn. “And wouldn’t that be your dream?” He’s teasing, eyebrow raised. “Just think of how much more peaceful your life would be.”
Okay. Maybe. But I have questions. So many questions. Why does he want the Bear job? Does he think he’ll get it?
And why am I not jumping for joy at the news that Easton might not be around Wilder headquarters quite as often?
Although I know the answer to that question. Because as much hell as Easton and I give each other, at bottom, he’s probably the biggest certainty of my life, after death and taxes. And the idea of him leaving Wilder doesn’t sit nicely in the pit of my stomach.
That said, no way I’m going to tell him.
“It is my dream,” I say. “This is like Christmas and Halloween and my birthday all in one. What can I do to help you get the job?”
“Well, first off, don’t tell Gabe,” he says, tipping his head toward the ranch house on the other side of the headquarters parking lot, where his brother’s family lives. “And do whatever you can to help me convince Gabe I should be one of the two co-leaders.”
I frown. “About that. I don’t think that’s in my best interest.”
Easton scowls. “What do you mean, not in your best interest?”
“I mean, I want to be one of the co-leaders. And Gabe’s never going to put both of us on the same trip, because—well, you know how he feels about what happened last time.”
“Why do you want to be a co-leader?” Easton demands. “Is it just to mess with my plans?”
“Hey! Do you really think I’m that vicious?” I hold up a hand. “Never mind, don’t answer that. This has nothing to do with you, you egotist. It’s because Gabe is phasing out winter trips.”
“What? I know he was getting rid of skiing, but not winter trips in general.”
“Yeah, well, none of the stuff we put in place to replace it has been a winner. And with my business unit partner finding himself with his whole photography thing…”
A pained expression crosses Easton’s face at this characterization of his brother Kane, but he just nods.
“…basically, I need to carve out a new niche for myself. My plan is to learn as much as I can from Bear this spring. Then I’ll add foraging and cooking to the glamping and Gilderness trips.”
Easton squints. “So… what you’re saying is… we both want to be a co-leader, and there’s no way Gabe’s going to let us do it together, so it’s… what, a fight to the death?”
“Basically.”
He crosses his arms. “You can’t just let me have it because it’s important to me?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I point out.
The corners of his mouth turn up, but he flattens his lips so I won’t see him smiling. I savor his struggle.
“Yup,” I say. “Fight to the death.”
He shakes his head in disgust, but he’s still trying not to smile.