Show Time (Juniper Ridge Romantic Comedies #1) - Tawna Fenske Page 0,12
and strained. “That wasn’t a proposition. Just stating a biological fact, as you so eloquently put it.”
“Right.” My ankles are free now, so I manage to hoist myself off him. I back out of the car, using the edge of the door for balance.
The instant my shoe touches the ground, I remember what got us into this mess in the first place. “Rattlesnakes.” I start to jerk my foot back, but Dean sits up and nudges me back.
“They’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
“I doubt that.”
“I’m sure it’s long gone.”
I have to admit he’s right, so I take a step back and offer him a hand up. “Really, I’m so sorry.”
“Vanessa, if you apologize again, I’m rescinding the job offer.” He ignores my outstretched hand, and I step back to let him escape my car.
“Really?”
“No. But accidents happen.” He dusts himself off, deliberately putting distance between us. “I know you didn’t intentionally tackle me in the backseat of your car.”
“Of course not.” But did I intentionally stay just a few beats longer than I should have?
The jury’s out on that one.
As Dean straightens his shirt, I scan the ground for any sign of the snake. It’s long gone, just like he said.
But the effects of having Dean Judson’s warm, solid, masculine body pinned between my thighs?
That’s not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.
***
“Over here we have the Go Kart track.” Lana Judson sweeps an arm out over the twisty patch of asphalt as she regards me with a raised brow. “Your guess is as good as mine why a doomsday cult needed one.”
I step to the edge of the lined asphalt, surveying the dozen or so vehicles lined up in a covered bay. “If you’re expecting end times, you might as well go out with a bang.”
“Which can also be accomplished in the bumper car arena.” Lana laughs. “We thought about taking them out, but it seemed like something community members could use to blow off steam.”
“Plus, you’ll get some great footage out of it.”
She grins, pleased I’m getting it. “Exactly.” She tucks a chunk of honey blond hair behind one ear. “You ready to see the residences?”
“Absolutely.”
I follow Lana across the campus, watching carefully for more snakes. And for Dean, who is conspicuously absent for my first tour of the grounds.
When I called this morning to arrange it, Mari volunteered the youngest Judson sib for duty. “Gabe and Lauren are off filming, and Cooper’s with me all day doing sensitivity training.”
I didn’t ask if the training was required for everyone or just the elusive Cooper. I also didn’t ask about Dean. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure he’s avoiding me.
“And here we have cabins one through thirty-five.” She gestures toward tidy rows of log structures so adorable, it takes me a moment to remember this isn’t summer camp. “You’ll be in this block. We haven’t assigned you one yet, but they’re all pretty similar. Want to see inside?”
“Of course.”
She whips out a ring of keys and leads me through the door of the first cabin on the right. It’s a single-story darling with a red door and little flower boxes lining the front windows. The space is small, but homey, with a bedroom, a small office, and a surprisingly roomy kitchen. The walls are honeyed pine, and the floors a mix of warm, coppery slate and hardwood.
“We’ve got catalogues so you can pick your own furniture,” she says. “That’s included, of course.”
“It’s gorgeous.” I turn in a circle, wondering why the space looks eerily familiar. “I’m having the oddest déjà-vus right now.”
Lana laughs and jingles the keys. “They’re Armbrust cedar cabins.” I must look confused, so she continues. “Nick Armbrust. He’s kind of a famous builder. If you’ve visited any of the Armbrust Resorts around the country, you might have stayed in one.”
That’s it. Shit. My last boyfriend, Bradley Inkster. We stayed at an Armbrust Resort for a romantic weekend getaway. We ate cheese and crackers in front of the roaring fireplace and made love on a scratchy wool rug.
The next morning, he got a text from his wife.
For the record, I didn’t know there was a wife. I dumped him immediately, and we were only together a few weeks anyway, but I still feel lousy about it. He was a controlling, manipulative son-of-a-bitch, but I liked him.
It just goes to show I suck at picking men.
“Are you okay?”
Lana’s looking at me with concern in her pretty blue eyes, and I force myself to smile.