Crazy for the Competition (Hope Springs) Read online

  The town committee moves about as slow as a snake on a cold day. Not that they were cold-blooded. Well, not all of them, although it was a possibility with a few of the older ladies. The thought of other people holding his future in his hands made a lump form in his gut.

  If only he hadn’t left such a bad impression back in high school. But he couldn’t do anything about that now. Just keep proving he’d changed and hope for the best.

  The hottie glanced back toward the wedding party. She carefully schooled her features, but the blush remained. “Sorry about that. I just…remembered that I need to make a call. For work. Please excuse me.” She rushed out of the chapel, moving surprisingly fast considering the super-tall heels on her feet.

  Heath dropped his hammer in his toolbox and gave the floorboards and formerly wobbly bench another test. “Did you need anything else?” he asked, addressing Preacher Hadfield.

  “No. Thanks for taking care of it on such short notice. I meant to get it fixed weeks ago.”

  Heath took up his toolbox, ignoring the disapproving looks he got from the wedding party—he didn’t even have to swear in church to earn them. It was another thing that had him worried when it came down to getting the town committee to accept his proposal. Add being from the wrong side of the tracks and having the wrong dad, and sometimes he thought he was stupid for even dreaming Mountain Ridge could be his.

  It’d be easier if Cam were here—he was the charmer, the courageous soldier, and the more impressive of the two of them by far. But he was out there fighting for their country, so Heath could fight for this.

  His friends Royce and Sadie were currently the town’s golden couple, and with any luck, the good words Royce had put in about him—as well as the fact that he was in a band with Sadie—would go a long way. The property he was after was right next to their place, after all, and if they weren’t afraid to be his neighbors, surely the committee would see that as a good sign.

  When he’d first heard the property was going up for sale, he’d had no idea how many hoops he’d have to jump through to try to buy it. Who knew there were still places where the town committee got to decide who bought land and what the owner could do with it? That was Hope Springs, Wyoming, for you, though. It both irritated him and endeared the place to him at the same time, although he wasn’t sure how that made any sense.

  Man, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this anxious. It was so much nicer to keep his nose in his business and not care about much else.

  When he pushed out of the church, his pulse quickened at the sight of Miss Holy Shitballs herself leaning against the brick exterior. She had one foot propped against the wall, which had her skirt hiked up to midthigh territory on that side.

  He grinned at her. “Hey.”

  “Are they sending the preacher after me with some holy water?” she asked, craning her neck to glance behind him.

  “I think they’re gathering wooden stakes, actually. But I guess if you’re standing out here in the sun, they’re not going to be very successful.”

  She placed a protective hand over her heart. “Vampire or not, I don’t think a wooden stake to the chest would feel very good.”

  “True. If it gets ugly, I’ll step in. Vouch for you. Considering the way they looked at me, though, I don’t know if that’ll help or hurt your case.”

  One side of her mouth kicked up, but as her gaze rose to his face, her almost smile faded and her eyebrows drew together. “Hey, you’re Heath Brantley, aren’t you? I didn’t recognize you at first.”

  He tried to place if he’d met her before, but he was sure he wouldn’t have forgotten a girl like her. But then pieces from town gossip, talk of the upcoming wedding, and Sadie’s stories clicked into place. “You must be Quinn Sakata.”

  “Must be? So you don’t remember me from high school?”

  He shifted his toolbox to his other hand. “Nooo. Should I?”

  “Pfft. Probably not with all your girls.”

  Dang, did I hit on her before? He knew she was Sadie’s age, and he’d always made sure to stay away from the younger girls in high school—he was already the town rebel and hadn’t needed to give the quilting ladies another reason to send the police after him. Judging by how many times cops had showed up at his house to “just ask a few questions,” they’d thought he committed every crime in town. Not that there was much to report. It was usually about tracks in fields that broke trespassing laws, disturbing animals with loud noises, or the infamous cow tipping, with a few minor theft complaints and “someone smelled marijuana” thrown in.

  Quinn straightened and poked a finger at his chest. “You once called me squirt. I came up to you, said hi, and you said, ‘What do you need, squirt?’” Her eyes flashed and she advanced a step closer. Even with her giant heels on, she was pretty damn short, but he didn’t think now was a good time to mention that.

  “Uh, are you sure that was me?”

  “Of course I am! I had a huge cr—” She clamped her lips together and shook her head, her cheeks coloring again.

  He lightly cupped her elbow to see if he could fluster her a little more and get her to finish that sentence—he liked where it was going. “Go on.”

  She shook her head and then lifted her chin. “If Sadie hadn’t spent the past few months saying nice things about you, I’d have some choice words for where you can stick your flirtation.”

  “But I won’t call you squirt anymore, I promise.” He shot her a grin. “How do you feel about half pint?”

  “Ah!” She smacked his arm, and he laughed. It only took her a second to join in.

  “Quinn?” The bride-to-be stuck her head out of the door. “Hey, we’ve got to wrap up the rehearsal so we can run the last of the errands and head to dinner. Hurry up and get all your swearing out now, then get your”—she glanced back into the church and lowered her voice—“butt back in here.”

  “How mad are Chichi and Haha?” Quinn asked.

  “They haven’t said a single word. Just lots of polite nodding.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Heath assumed they were talking about their parents. He’d noticed the two older women on their side had occasionally given instructions in another language. Chinese or Japanese, or maybe Korean. Or maybe something else. He wouldn’t know the difference.

  “Yeah,” her sister said, eyes wide. “And the Rutherfords are asking the preacher about the history of the church and where the stone came from, even though they clearly couldn’t care less. Now tell the guy who caused the swearing good-bye and come on.” She flashed Heath a quick smile and ducked back into the church.

  Heath put a hand on his chest. “I caused the swearing?”

  “Oh, no,” Quinn said, sticking one finger in the air. “I’ve got a swearing problem. Just ask my parents. Actually, don’t ask them, because it’s kind of a sensitive subject. Ask Sadie, she’ll tell you. It most definitely didn’t have anything to do with you.” The way she avoided his gaze made him think that wasn’t totally true. A smug sense of satisfaction wound through him. He was about to ask if she was going to be in town for a while when his phone buzzed. Quinn’s did, too, and she reached into her purse, her movements slightly frantic.

  Heath took his cell out of his pocket, wondering if simultaneous texts meant another town drill was in effect—the last one was to prepare them for a stampede, even though he doubted there’d been any since the West was won, and before that, it was to alert everyone to an emergency meeting called because their usual float supplies vendor had gone out of business and they were worried about how it’d affect the Frontier Days parade.

  But then he read the message.

  The town is split on the bids for Mountain Ridge. We will have a meeting tonight at seven thirty to discuss the matter further. Your attendance is required.

  “Tonight,” Quinn muttered. “How am I going to pull that off with all the wedding stuff?”

  Foreboding pricked Heath’s skin. “You’re not…”


  She looked at him, confusion clear on her features, and then she noticed the phone in his hand. She leaned in and read, and since she’d find out eventually anyway, he let her.

  “You’re the other bid?” she asked.

  “I’m going to be the winning bid.”

  The muscles around her jaw tightened, and something hard and—to be honest—scary overtook her expression. “Over my dead body. If you’re my competition, I’m going to crush you.”

  A moment ago, he’d been thinking he should ask the girl out, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to get away from her. “Don’t count on it, squirt.”

  …

  Hot bursts of anger traveled through Quinn’s veins as she stomped back into the church, and it seemed like more swearing was inevitable. There was no way Heath Brantley could do a better job of running Mountain Ridge Bed and Breakfast than she could. In her practically nonexistent spare time, she’d studied different design themes, envisioning everything the eight-bedroom building could be. She wanted to keep the charm and hominess, but renovate more on the simple and sleek than frilly, overly floral side. She knew about the dozens of certificates she’d need, everything for renovations, starting an LLC, and the other documents required to open a business. She knew Wyoming commercial law like the back of her hand, and she was disciplined and driven. She’d wanted Mountain Ridge for longer than she’d wanted anything, and there was no way any guy—regardless of how hot he was—was taking it from her.

  Is he seriously going to take phone calls and greet guests? Sit in the main room and organize family activities? Go ask people if they need more towels? How does he think he can run a bed and breakfast?

  “You okay?” Grayson asked, putting his hand on her arm. And she got angry all over again, because the soft touch didn’t ignite near the desire that the brief brush of Heath’s callused fingers had brought. Of course Grayson had soft hands. He typed on a computer, made phone calls, and spent hours in meetings. There was nothing wrong with that. “Don’t worry about my parents. They’ll forget your slip in no time.”

  Slip. Right. Who the hell cared about that at a time like this? Her bid was in danger. She’d spent the last three years working at her father’s commercial real estate company, starting with leasing offices and eventually moving up to acquiring and selling properties. She closed deals. Oversaw remodels. Clients liked her—loved her, actually. But she always had Chichi over her shoulder, telling her the things she did wrong and frowning at her if—heaven forbid—she showed excitement about closing a deal. The rest of the guys got to slap each other’s backs, go out for beer and a game of golf, and she was supposed to nod quietly and go about her business.

  Every time she’d had a bad day at the office lately, she told herself that it was only temporary. The end was in sight. Soon she’d have her own bed and breakfast where she could laugh as loud as she wanted, make small talk, meet new people, help arrange relaxing vacations, and live within walking distance of her best friend.

  “Quinn, darling?”

  Quinn glanced into Grayson’s clear blue eyes and faked a smile. “I’m fine. Just hungry. Let’s get this done and then we’ll grab dinner.”

  And after that, she’d call in reinforcements and figure out a game plan to meet with the town committee and do whatever it took to close this Mountain Ridge property deal.

  Chapter Two

  Quinn didn’t need to ask Grayson what he thought of Seth’s Steak and Saloon, or what most locals referred to as the Triple S. He’d given the old western-style exterior scrunched-up eyebrows, and his footsteps slowed as they pushed inside—no swinging door, for the record. Wyoming got way too freezing in the winter for that madness.

  His obvious trepidation only grew as he swept his gaze across the wooden interior, from the tables dotting the room to the large dance area complete with a country music–filled jukebox. A twangy country song filled the air—someone had obviously lost a tractor or a cow. Probably his girlfriend, too, so double whammy.

  Quinn grinned, the feeling of being home washing over her. When she’d first come through Hope Springs as a little girl, she’d immediately fallen in love. Haha had been on Chichi to take a family trip and they’d brought Sobo Machi along with them. They’d stayed at the Mountain Ridge Bed and Breakfast for ten amazing days.

  A few years later, when she’d been about ten and Maya was six, they’d tried to stay there again, but it was closed. Since the beautiful town was a central location to Chichi’s properties, which spanned across southern Wyoming as well as northern Colorado and Utah, her parents eventually decided to build a summer home/place for Chichi to stay while going back and forth. After another year of Quinn begging them to move to Hope Springs full-time, they’d finally given in and let her spend her high school years there. It meant Chichi had to travel a bit more, but at that time, he’d been traveling nonstop to acquire more real estate anyway.

  Now she was the one traveling all the time, when all she wanted was to find her way back home to Hope Springs again.

  “Come on,” Quinn said, nudging Grayson. “It’s fun and different.”

  Grayson wrapped his arm around her waist. “I like calm and the same.”

  Which is pretty much the opposite of me, in case you didn’t notice. Quinn spotted Cory, Royce, and Sadie at a table in the corner. Sadie looked up and shot out of her seat. They met in the middle and crashed into a hug.

  “Why if it isn’t the Asian cowgirl in the flesh,” Sadie said with a laugh, low enough for only Quinn to hear. Quinn had always joked she was going to be the first famous Asian cowgirl, but then she and Sadie had found out it was a slang term for a sex position and it became a running joke. One they were careful to use just between them, because guys always took it a level or five too far.

  “I missed you so much,” Quinn said. During the six long years Sadie had spent in Nashville, they’d only gotten to communicate via phone and email, but after coming back to Hope Springs a couple of months ago for what was supposed to be a temporary stay, she was back permanently. “Being able to hang out like we used to over the summer only made me realize how sucky it is when I don’t get to.”

  “Same.” Sadie stepped back and glanced at Grayson. Before Quinn could introduce him, Royce and Cory showed up. They exchanged hugs, and then Royce’s arm wrapped around Sadie.

  Their eyes locked, and they kissed. She couldn’t believe either of them had ever doubted they were meant to be together when it was so clear to everyone else. Which reminded her… “The ring! I need to see the ring!”

  Sadie held out her hand. Quinn had gotten a picture of the western-style wedding band with the diamond, but in person it was so much better. Not that it looked any different, but this way she got to exchange excited smiles with her best friend.

  “I’ve learned a ton helping Maya throw this wedding together record fast, so we’ve got to talk wedding deets,” Quinn said.

  Grayson cleared his throat and Quinn shot him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” She introduced him to Sadie, Royce, and Royce’s best friend, Cory. All four of them had spent their high school years together. Cory had even taught her how to ride a horse. Considering the guy was a complete commitmentphobe, it was surprising she hadn’t fallen for him. Probably because despite the tan skin, jet-black hair, and piercing blue eyes, he still had a good-guy look to him. In high school, she’d preferred the tattooed bad boys who’d crush her heart and never look back.

  Guys like Heath—hell, Heath had been on her crush radar since her freshman year. Now she knew better. No getting distracted by the sexy tattoos… Next time I see him, I’m going to have to see what they are.

  Wait. No. I’m going to crush him, not crush on him. Come on, brain. Get it together.

  “Are we going to sit down?” Grayson asked.

  “Of course,” Quinn said, realizing for the second time that night she’d forgotten about her boyfriend. “Sadie and I will go get drinks!” It came out way too excited, but hey, alcohol wa
s exciting, so she stood by it.

  Sadie turned to Royce. “Coors?”

  “Make that two,” Cory said, apparently so used to them talking two inches from each other’s faces he didn’t mind interrupting.

  “Hurry back.” Royce slid his hands into Sadie’s rhinestoned back pockets and kissed her like she’d be gone for weeks.

  “You got it, cowboy. And just so you know, I’m dragging you on the dance floor later, so be ready.”

  He sighed as if it were a huge inconvenience, but the passion in his eyes gave him away. They were so cute that if she didn’t love them so much, she might hate them. They’d earned their happiness the hard way, though, reuniting after six years apart. Now Sadie worked at Second Chance Ranch with Royce, helping rehabilitate at-risk youth, all while recording an album and traveling with her band, Dixie Rush. A band that happened to include Heath, but Quinn was trying not to think about that and focus on how well Royce and Sadie seemed to be handling the transition, despite the long stretches apart they occasionally had to endure.

  They were only a few steps toward the bar when Sadie raised an eyebrow. “So what’s the deal with the boyfriend? There’s definitely an absence of sparkage.”

  Quinn’s shoulders slumped. “I’m trying to date safe guys, remember?”

  “There’s safe, and then there’s dead in the water. You know I love you, and if you tell me it’s working—”

  “I keep trying to make it, but I’m just not sure…” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “He’s smart, polite, and successful, and in the beginning I was sure he was exactly what I needed to prove to myself that I could be attracted to nice guys. And you saw him—he’s easy on the eyes. But sometimes it feels more like I want to want him than that I want him, you know? I worked so hard to impress his family today, too. I’m not sure swearing super loud in the church during the wedding rehearsal was the kind of impression I was going for, but that’s how I roll.”