“I’m just…thinking,” she murmured.

“About my head?”

“Something like that.”

The kitchen was cooler than River was used to, or maybe the excitement and nerves of the climb were starting to hit her. Either way, he noticed the tiny shiver that went through her.

“You want some coffee?”

River always wanted some coffee. That was a given. She also wanted a blanket, so she went into the living room closet where Easton had told her extra blankets were available. She could hear Easton tinkering with the coffeepot in the kitchen as she checked on her friends.

Jessie had passed out in the recliner, out like a light. Cuddled up on the couch, Bree was almost there herself. Taking a moment to tuck a blanket around each of them, River took the last blanket—a well-loved and well-worn quilt—and returned to the kitchen. Easton had started a pot of coffee and set two mugs on the counter.

“Caffeine at night? You live a risky life, Easton Lockett.”

His warm, deep chuckle was even better than the blanket she’d pulled around her shoulders. “It’s decaf,” he said. “Either way, that doesn’t hit me as hard as it does some people.”

“High tolerance?”

“I think there’s more of me to caffeinate than most.” The pot finished dripping, so Easton handed her a cup. “Creamer and sweetener are on the counter.”

River fixed her coffee, then settled back down at the kitchen table. “You used a real coffeepot. I haven’t seen one of those in years. No coffee pods for you?”

“Nope. Those things are wasteful. Bad for the environment. That sort of thing bothers us up here.”

Sighing in contentment at her drink, River tucked her legs beneath her, curling up as much as she could on a hard kitchen chair. “Thanks for the coffee. And for taking us in. We’re a motley crew, aren’t we?”

“It’s fine. Though I’m kind of surprised I have to take you in.” After adding creamer to his own mug, he joined her at the table. “Are you going to tell me why you were sleeping in your car instead of staying in the resort?”

“We…sort of got kicked out.” At the growing smirk on his face, River pushed on defensively. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault. There was a black bear right outside the lobby. Do you know how often you get something like that? Of course, we had to film it. That’s a given.”

“Which makes the resort look like they aren’t safe.” Easton smiled so wide, she could finally see his white teeth. “Literally the one place in this whole town that would have welcomed you, and you turn them against you.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Seems risky though, knowing you didn’t have permits. There’s some heavy fines for those kinds of shenanigans.”

“Don’t worry. Your guide check won’t bounce, but don’t expect more than the standard gratuity for your efforts. It’s okay to be subpar.”

Easton exhaled a small laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t have it in me.”

“Sweetheart?”

Flushing, he actually scooted back in his chair as if to give her more room. “Sorry, that slipped out.”

Truly sounding apologetic—and a bit embarrassed—Easton glanced down at the papers on the tabletop without meeting her gaze.

Touching her fingertips to his arm to pull his attention back to her, River winked at him. “I like it better when you say it instead of the tabloids. I might actually believe you. And yes, I took the risk. I have a bad habit of leaping before I look.” Sipping her coffee, she hummed in contentment at the warmth going down her throat. “Everything in life is a gamble, Mr. Lockett. You might have a barn full of meat hooks after all. But you never win unless you try.”

A sheepish expression crossed his face. “Will you be super freaked out if I tell you I really do have a barn full of meat hooks?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

She pushed his arm with the flat of her hand. “Shut up. You don’t.”

“Five bucks, you won’t even step foot in there. My great-aunt and great-uncle used to live here. Fishing and hunting wild game were how they survived through the winter. I used to be scared to death of their barn when I was a little kid.”

“How about now?” she pressed.

Easton’s beard twitched. “Now, I don’t go in there.”

River could feel her eyes widen. “You’re too chicken to take them down.”

“I’m not chicken. I just don’t…” Easton trailed off. “Yeah, it’s pretty much the worst. I’m too chicken.”

“Show me.”

“You’ll run screaming,” he warned her.

“Oh no, there’s no backing out,” River breathed. “You have to show me.”

“When you start screaming, Jessie and Bree will start screaming.”

“We’re going outside right now.”

Rising to his feet, Easton offered her his hand. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

• • •

As dates went, it was good they weren’t on one. Taking a woman to a barn full of sharp, pointy objects was not a great way to be romantic. Especially when Easton was struggling to keep his eyes on her face and not the curve of her hips wrapped up in his favorite blanket.

The hand-stitched quilt his grandmother had given him never looked so good.

Technically, he was showing her the barn, but River was three steps ahead of him, her hands finding the side door and tugging. Her enthusiasm would have been endearing if he didn’t think they were a few precious moments from her calling the cops on him.

“Why do you keep the door locked?” River tried to peer in a cobweb-covered window. “Are there people in there? Animals? People-animals?”

This was already a bad idea. “I have cousins with small children,” Easton told her. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

She watched with eagerness as he unlocked the door and twisted the handle. The stupid thing always got stuck. “You’re totally going to take me captive, aren’t you?”

Did she have to sound so happy about the prospect?

“Remember, this was your idea, not mine,” Easton said. “I was fine drinking coffee at the kitchen table.” Setting his shoulder to the door, he gave enough of a shove to force the creaky thing open.

When she started to step inside, Easton grabbed for her hand. “Hold on. Let me find a light. It’s dangerous in here.”