After the Climb (River Rain #1) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,22

You did.”

I ignored her, turned to Harv and began to explore new territory in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

“So, Harv, what do you do?”

He jerked a thumb at Duncan. “Work with this guy. I’m his COO.”

“Oh,” I mumbled.

Perhaps we were in new territory.

But not the right territory.

“Best gig I ever had,” Harv stated. “We were friends, see. Been friends years. Back then, I managed a pro shop. Made shit…’scuse my French, money. But that shop was in the shitter, ’scuse my French again, when I started there. Bitched, damn, ’scuse my French again, to Bowie the whole time about the hassle it was. He gave me a couple pointers, which were helpful. The story is longer, due to the fact the employees were a pack of hyenas, but makin’ it short, after I turned it around, he poached me.” Big grin. “The owners were ticked. The history of that shop was not good, they were finally turning a profit, and their manager is gone. Though, big risk for Bowie, seein’ as there’s a difference between managing one little shop and overseeing the operations of fifteen huge ones. Though that was then. Now we got seventy-five.”

He turned to Duncan and gravely bowed his head.

And then kept talking.

“My wife thanks you, seein’ as she’s toolin’ around in a shiny new GMC and not that crappy ten-year-old minivan. And my daughters thank you, seein’ as they won’t have to sell a kidney to go to college, and they found it embarrassing, being ferried around in that crappy ten-year-old minivan.”

Duncan said nothing to Harvey.

He turned and said it to me.

“We have a River Rain here in Prescott. It’s not far, though if I take you now to get you some waders, something I think we both need considering how deep it’s getting out here, we’ll miss the goat’s cheese.”

It came out before I could stop it.

A rush of laughter.

This was something else I had not forgotten about Duncan.

How funny he could be.

And how much I’d loved I had a guy who could make me laugh.

I managed to get a handle on it as fast as I could.

But I would find it wasn’t fast enough.

For when I was done, Heddy had a gleeful expression, Harv had a hopeful one…

And Duncan’s eyes were soft and warm on me.

God.

“Okay, there’s an elephant on the patio, and before that bastard sits on us,” Harv started, attention on me, “he’s my boy so I’m his boy and she’s your girl so you’re her girl and we all obviously know what’s goin’ on here so I’ll just say it. Your dead friend was an asshole. He did you so dirty, it’s killin’ me he’s dead so I can’t track his ass down and choke the life outta him. But that said, I’m glad you two are gonna have the chance to talk things out.”

“I, well—” I didn’t quite begin.

“Me too,” Heddy chimed in.

“You wanna give it a rest?” Duncan said words directed at his friend that seemed like a suggestion, but the tone in which they were spoken stated clearly they were not.

“I am giving it a rest,” Harv replied. “Is Beth here?”

“Jesus Christ, if you call her—” Duncan clipped.

“I’m not above it,” Harv stated. “The threat is real, my man. So get with the program.” He lifted an exceptionally large hand and whirled it over the table. “Talk amongst yourselves. I’m sure me and Heddy got all sorts we can gab about.”

He then went so far as to turn a mountainous shoulder to the table and lean toward Heddy, who did the same damned thing.

I huffed out a breath, reconsidering my dedication to remaining friends with Heddy.

Duncan turned to me.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” I replied. Then asked, “Who’s Beth?”

“Harvey’s wife.”

“Is she scary?”

“No. But if she wants something, she’s single-minded about getting it.”

“I think we’ve had enough of people being single-minded about things they want in regard to us, don’t you agree?” I inquired.

“There’s an important difference when it comes to Beth. She’s only single-minded when she wants something for someone she cares about. And in this case, it would be me being happy.”

I had nothing to say to that.

Though I was lamenting my choice of wine and wondering where our waitress was and if it would be gauche to order an entire bottle of gin.

He shifted a little my way.

I stiffened.

He shifted no farther.

But his voice lowered. “I would still like the chance to talk.”

I caught his gaze. “And I still feel there’s nothing to say.”

“In

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