Game Changer by Kelly Jamieson Page 0,50

of course; I’ve admired his hard-packed abs, strong shoulders and muscular thighs and butt. His face is lean and sculpted, with thick eyebrows, carved lips and cobalt eyes that all the Wynns seem to have. I always knew he was fun and charming, popular with everyone. But now I’ve had glimpses at what’s beneath all that, and I think he doesn’t let on how much he feels things because he feels them so deeply. He’s caring and thoughtful and intelligent, and that just makes him even more attractive.

I shouldn’t be attracted to him.

I’m hyper aware of him sitting near me. The only sounds are the rustling of the aspens, birds chirping, a squirrel squawking crazily in a tree. It’s so hard not to reach out and touch him. I grip my wine glass with both hands and stare determinedly forward.

“I hope you won’t get bored here,” Jax says.

I roll my head toward him. “We just got here.”

“I mean, after a while. It’s pretty quiet here. We won’t be partying or shopping or having spa days.”

“Jeez. Is that what you think of me? Parties and spas and shopping sprees?”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant. But you said yourself, you’re a city girl.”

“It’s beautiful here. I won’t be bored. Don’t worry about me. Just do what you want to do. I don’t need babysitting.”

“You’re hardly a baby,” he mutters.

I’m not sure what he means by that. He almost sounds angry. Hmm.

I let a few moments pass and then say, “I missed sleeping with you the last few nights.”

Jax chokes on his beer. “Jesus, Molly.”

I laugh. “You know I mean sleeping as in sleeping, not boinking.”

He coughs again. But if I wanted him to say he missed me too, he doesn’t. Damn.

What am I doing? I swallow a sigh.

Jax gets up and ambles inside, returning with another beer and the bottle of wine. He refills my glass.

“Thanks.”

“So what kinds of things we can do here?”

“Well, we don’t have a boat anymore, but we can rent one at the pier. We can fish or water ski.”

Now I’m the one choking. “I can’t water ski.”

He grins. “Okay.”

“And I don’t think I want to fish either.”

“That’s okay, I’m not that much into fishing.”

I huff. “Tell me things you want to do, then.”

“We have a canoe. That might be more your speed.”

I give him a reproving look, even though he’s right.

“There are tennis courts and a golf course. It’s a great course. There’s the beach, obviously. Different beaches. We can go out to the wishing well. There’s a bison enclosure at Lake Audy.”

“Bison?” I perk up. “That would be cool.”

“Yeah, it is. Maybe we’ll see a bear or some moose.”

My eyes widen. “Bear?”

“Yeah, they wander around all over the place here.”

I glance nervously at the bushes and sit up straighter.

He laughs. “I’m kidding. Well, there are bears, and they have been seen in town on occasion, but don’t worry.”

“Oh my God! Of course I’m worried. Bears!”

“There are also the shops and restaurants and the interpretive center. I think there are still bikes here, but we might have to pump up the tires. Or we could rent bikes. And there are lots of hiking trails. We should definitely do that.”

“Will there be bears?”

“Possibly.”

I’m a little nervous about this.

“If we make enough noise, they won’t come near us,” he assures me.

“Mmmm.”

“You sound doubtful.”

“I don’t want to be eaten by a bear.”

“I remember when I was a kid, there was a problem with bears in town getting into the garbage. They brought in a bear trap, and one day we walked by and there was one in it.”

“Yikes. Was it…” I cringe. “Dead?”

“No, it was a live trap. But he wasn’t too happy. We were fascinated.”

“What do they do with them when they catch them? They don’t kill them, do they?”

“No, no. They take them into the back woods and release them. Anyway, it’s why we’re careful with the garbage here. Most of the refuse bins are bear proof.”

“Good, good.” I wipe a damp palm surreptitiously on my leggings.

“There’s lots of other wildlife we might see too—fox, moose, deer, elk.” He pauses. “Cougars.”

“Oh, come on! Cougars?”

“There are some, but we won’t likely see them.”

“I think you’re trying to scare me so I’ll go home.”

He laughs softly. “Not at all, Flynn. But I am amusing myself.”

“Jerk.” But I slant him a smile.

We sit out on the deck until the sun goes down, which is really late here because we’re farther north. It’s lovely, the air still warm and soft and