It wasn’t even extra weirdly overorganized. He’d left a sweatshirt draped on the back of a chair, and he had a loose change jar next to his keys, with several pens and a couple of wadded up receipts along with the quarters and dimes.

“You’re disappointingly normal.” Bree sighed. “I was hoping for the heads of baby dolls lining the walls.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” River shared a grin with her friend. “Not even a meat hook in sight.”

“The meat hooks are in the barn.”

They both went still, heads swiveling to the man closing the door behind them. Easton winked at them.

Jessie flopped down on the closest recliner. “Well, meat hooks or not, I’m glad we’re not sleeping in the car again. I’m too old for that. I should’ve stopped at half the Growly Bear like you did. The ceiling is spinning. What was in that thing?”

“Graham’s sense of humor,” Easton informed them.

While Jessie made himself comfortable and Bree began fiddling with the handheld camera, Easton gave River a tour of the place. Fridge, check. Living room complete with spare pillows and blankets, check. Tiny bathroom with the white fluffy towels. Yep. Check, check, check.

Unfortunately, the towel situation was going to be a problem.

Not the number of towels available for use in Easton’s home or the quality of said towels. They were nice, bright white, and very fluffy. The problem was River kept imagining those towels wrapped around him, her mind nosediving straight to the gutter. Standing in Easton’s bathroom, River tried not to look directly at the towels in his muscled arms, all fluffy and soft and contrasting to his warm, tan skin.

“Here,” Easton told her, offering one. “There’s more in the cabinet for the others.”

“I don’t want it.” The words slipped out before River could keep them in. “I mean, it’s a towel. Nothing to see here. Move along.”

“How many of those Growly Bears did you drink again?” Easton’s eyes sparkled in the bathroom’s low lighting.

Sparkly eyes weren’t fair either. Neither was the proximity of this tiny bathroom, where a good breath could have her parts accidentally squished into his. And after watching him out of the corner of her eye all night at the Tourist Trap, squishing and squashing weren’t too far from her mind.

Especially if towels were involved.

“I’m going to shower.” River flapped her hand at him. “Shoo.”

“You can’t shoo me out of my own bathroom.” One side of his mouth twitched upward.

“Did you plan on staying?” River raised an eyebrow. The result was his neck flushing red as he muttered something inaudible, the door clicking shut behind him as he made his getaway.

After kicking Easton out of the bathroom, River took a quick shower. The water was hot and relaxing, even if her mind kept trying to cover Easton with chocolate sauce. The man had crawled into her head and was making a home there, a distraction to her even when he wasn’t present.

His shower curtain had cartoon rubber ducks on it. River thought that was funny for a mountaineer living in Alaska.

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.

“It’s me,” Bree said through the door. “Can I brush my teeth? There’s a line forming out here.”

“Yeah, I’ll hurry it up.”

At the start of her career, River had done a handful of commercials and a couple of low-paying modeling gigs. Enough to be used to small spaces with multiple people getting ready. While Bree went about her flossing routine, River sadly ended her shower. Sneaking her hand outside the curtain to grab a towel, River wrapped herself up and sat on the edge of the tub.

“He’s awfully good-looking.” Bree glanced at River in the mirror, words muffled by her fingers and the floss. “I’m starting to think you like him.”

“If I did, it doesn’t matter.” With a sigh, River shook her head. “Besides, you know me. Tall and rugged always distracts me, but it’s the endgame I’m focused on.”

“Right.” Bree smirked at her.

River chewed her lower lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, I will admit that he’s gorgeous. And I kind of want to steal his hair tie and watch his hair flowing in the wind.”

Bree tossed her floss away, then flashed her teeth at the mirror to check her handiwork. “I want to steal his hair tie to see what’s under there. He might have a bald spot or a really big mole. Just saying. Now out. It’s my turn for a shower.”

River dressed quickly in soft yoga pants and a comfortable sweater, then padded through the unfamiliar house. She found Easton at the kitchen table, feet kicked up on a second chair as he combed through a stack of maps.

“There’s water in the fridge.” Easton indicated the counter behind him with a tilt of his head. “Glasses in the cupboard above the sink.”

Murmuring thanks, she poured herself a glass and sat in the chair next to him. Peering at his papers, she tried to understand what she was looking at.

“What is that?” River leaned closer in inspection.

“A topographic map.”

“I know what a topographic map is. What’s this overlay?” She pointed to a feature on the map unlike any she was used to seeing, with several teardrop-shaped demarcations.

Easton dropped one foot down to the floor, turning so River could access the materials in front of him more readily. “It’s an avalanche map of the region.” With his index finger, he traced two of the shapes. “These are from last year. The third is from this spring.”

It was one thing to know these mountains had the risk of avalanches. It was another to have that risk right there in front of her. Maybe he caught on to the sudden increase in her heart rate, because Easton patted his hand down on the map, covering the forms from view.

“There’s not a mountain out there with snowpack that doesn’t have the potential of avalanches. Some mountain towns have controlled avalanches to keep the danger of a natural slide down. The resort does it.”

“Isn’t that dangerous for the town if something goes wrong?”

Easton shrugged. “I suppose they think it’s better to risk the townsfolk than risk losing a batch of tourists. Don’t know why. The tourists keep coming back.”

Not teasing him was impossible. “Ooh, harsh. Tourist party of three over here.”

“Yeah, but you’re not as annoying as most,” Easton said before adding, “You’re worse, actually.”

“You love us. We’re like cheap take-out food. Once you get used to us, you’ll always want us around.”