Could've Said Yes Read online

  Man.

  Motorcycle.

  Mountains.

  Not a combination she’d ever envisioned turning into art, but she was beginning to see the possibilities. Besides, it might be good for her to focus on a hot guy for a little while—as long as he was only in a picture. Her ex-fiancé, Noah, had cured her of her taking chances with real-life men, at least for a good long while.

  Noah…

  Ellie’s chest tightened with regret, but not as much as it had the last time she’d thought of him. She instinctively massaged her finger where her engagement ring used to be.

  Thankfully the two years she’d spent living with Noah in Phoenix were behind her now, as were most of her feelings for him. Even so, she was nowhere near ready to put herself out there again—even with a hot guy like Collin. But he was her client now, and it couldn’t hurt to be friendly. He was probably in town alone, and she knew how lonely that could be. Despite having lived with Noah, she’d felt all alone in Phoenix.

  Ellie refocused her attention on her picture, lifted it from the easel, and carried it over to the checkout desk—a stunning, weathered antique that was the perfect centerpiece for the quaint space. Millicent and Merribelle Montgomery, two spritely old sisters regularly described as Charmed meets The Golden Girls with a little Bewitched thrown in for fun, had insisted on loaning the desk to Ellie. She lived in a guesthouse on their sprawling property up near Narrowleaf Pass, and had worked for them for a short while after she returned to Thistle Bend. Gardening and baking and helping them keep up with their booming Internet business had kept her busy, but the sisters had encouraged her to focus on her art. Their much-too-generous twenty-eighth birthday gift of a year’s lease on the perfect retail space had pushed Ellie to take a risk and open the gallery.

  Settling in the desk chair—a ladder-back antique with a dried-laurel wreath hung on the back—Ellie considered how much she owed Milly and Merri. The only way she could hope to repay them was to make this place a success.

  And, one of these years, get selected to exhibit in the Thistle Bend Arts Festival.

  Ellie sighed. Sales and happy customers were important, but acknowledgment from her peers meant a lot, too. She had applied for the annual, nationally recognized, juried art show that had gained notoriety during its forty-five-year history in Thistle Bend. Last year, the festival was selected as one of the top fifty art fairs in the country. People came from all over to see and purchase artwork from the 170 artists accepted to exhibit—a few of them local.

  But Ellie wasn’t one of them. She’d been selected as an alternate. Trying to shake it off, she shrugged.

  There’s always next year.

  Wood rasped against wood as she opened the top drawer of the desk and took out a royal blue paint marker. Signing her finished work always gave her a thrill, and now was the perfect time for one.

  Ellie London.

  Legible, with a little flourish. She replaced the cap on the marker, and leaned back in the chair. As soon as her signature dried, she’d take a picture of the finished work and add it to her expanding online gallery.

  She blew out a satisfied sigh, and shook her head. Would she ever get used to the minute-to-minute ups and downs of an artist’s life? Gazing out the window, she watched people pass on the sidewalks—talking, laughing, checking their phones. Some she recognized, others she didn’t. Several kids rode by on bicycles, and her gaze followed the last one—a girl in a lemon-yellow sundress—until it caught on a guy sitting on a sunny bench in front of the toy store on the corner across the street. Her stomach fluttered.

  Collin?

  Ellie stood and stepped toward the window, careful not to get too close. Sure enough, it was Collin, kicked back, eating ice cream, and watching the people go by. She twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. Thanks to the Colorado sun, it was nearly a dead-on match for the blondish color of his. He wore it super-short, which really worked for him since his face was seriously stunning—straight nose, strong jaw, light eyes. Gray-green, as she recalled. The kind that competed with an amazing mountain panorama at sunset—and won. His light blue polo shirt pulled a little across his sturdy shoulders, and his cargo shorts revealed nicely muscled calves. If she hadn’t known he worked for the EPA, Ellie would’ve bet he was military.

  No doubt the ice cream was from Get the Scoop, a Thistle Bend favorite for the most unique, irresistible homemade flavors. Collin’s was a caramel-colored concoction—maybe peanut butter praline or salted caramel snickerdoodle, although he hadn’t struck Ellie as the snickerdoodle type.

  More like molten chocolate lava cake with a cherry vanilla swirl.

  Yep, she was going to enjoy hand tinting a picture of him, and focusing on every detail.

  More than a few women stared as they passed Collin, and Ellie grinned knowingly. She wasn’t the only one with an eye for sexy men—especially ones licking ice cream. She stepped behind her easel and watched as he made his way down to the last bite of his cone. Swiping his napkin across his mouth, he stood and swaggered over to the trash can, looking as fine from the back as he had from the front—just like he did in the pictures she’d taken of him. She gazed at him until he turned her way and headed toward the gallery, giving her pulse a jolt.

  Ellie quickly drew back from the window, hurried over to the desk, grabbed her lip gloss from the top drawer, and smoothed some on her lips. She straightened her chambray shirt, wishing she’d worn something else today—there was nothing remarkable about jeans, boots, and a chambray shirt, but it would have to do.

  I didn’t expect him to stop by so soon.

  Tugging in a deep breath, she sorted through the day’s receipts, working to act casual.

  The door to the gallery stood wide open, letting in the fresh mountain air, and Collin walked right in. Ellie glanced up at him—he looked even taller than she’d remembered—and he gave her a grin that sent her heart leaping into her throat.

  “Hello again.” His southern drawl poured over her like the molten chocolate lava she’d imagined, complete with the cherry vanilla swirl, and a dollop of whipped cream on top. He paused to look around the gallery, lingering on several of Ellie’s favorite pictures. “Nice place you’ve got here. Really unique artwork.” He stepped closer and set his gray-green gaze on her. “But you could use a shot of a guy and his motorcycle on a scenic mountain overlook.”

  Ellie caught the scent of his cologne—something crisp and clean and manly. “Just one?” She snuck in a once-over, taking in the muscular curves and angles of his body.

  A glint of amusement lit his eyes. “You could start with one. But it’d probably be wise to have more on hand.”

  “You think?” she asked playfully.

  He nodded. “Definitely. Because sales would be swift and furious.”

  Ellie chuckled. “It might not take me as long to get to your picture as I first thought.”

  He hooked his thumb into the pocket of his cargo shorts and nodded. “I stopped by to see what I got myself into.”

  He could’ve gone online to check out her work, but he’d shown up instead.

  Collin turned his attention to the picture on the desk.

  “I just finished this for a client.” She turned the picture so he could view it right-side up. “It’s the order I had to get done before I could start on yours.”

  Collin leaned over and took a closer look. She held her breath, surprised by how much she wanted him to like it.

  “I’ve never seen this technique before,” he said, sounding impressed. “It really captures the feel of the town.”

  Ellie exhaled and smiled softly. She stepped around the desk, clutched his rock-hard biceps, turned him to face the front of the gallery, and swept her hand toward the bay window. “Look familiar?”

  He narrowed his eyes and checked out the view. “Like a mirror image.”

  “Almost.”

  “When I got tapped to work on a project in Thistle Bend,” he said, “I never imagined the place w
ould be like this.”

  “You mean quaint, idyllic, and welcoming?” Ellie had taken some of that for granted as she’d grown up in Thistle Bend, gone to college nearby, and returned. But after living in Phoenix for two years—nice for a big city—she appreciated her hometown much more. “With a name like Thistle Bend, what else would you have thought?”

  “I was coming to work on a defunct, potentially leaky mine.” He shrugged. “I figured the scenery might be awesome, but things also might be kind of bleak, town-wise.”

  “Surprise.” Ellie grinned. “At least the town part. However, things are kind of bleak up at the mine.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “I got up there at sunrise this morning. And I was lucky to get out of there with a little daylight left.”

  “What’s the verdict? Leaky or not?”

  “We’re still assessing. The plug seems to be holding tight for now.”

  “My older brother, Brian, is a stream ecologist. He’s doing research this summer at the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory, about eight miles up the road in Gothic. Says there’s no doubt Big Star has been leaking, considering the changes he’s seen in the nearby streams.”

  Collin furrowed his brow. “Does he consult with mining companies?”

  “Not hardly. The last thing they want is for some wise-guy ecologist to tell them their mine is leaking—or anyone else, for that matter.”

  “Hmm…” The sound rumbled in his throat, low and deep. “If that’s what my team finds, they’re not going to want to hear it from us either.”

  Ellie leaned back against the desk. For once she hoped no one would come in the gallery to browse. She was happy focusing on Collin right now.

  “Maybe I need to have a talk with your brother,” he said.

  She lifted one shoulder. “I can set it up. He’s happy to chat about his research with anyone who’ll listen. Besides, you’d probably love riding your motorcycle up to RMBL.”

  “Rumble?”

  “R, M, B, L. Acronym for Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory.”

  “Got it.”

  “Most of the ride up there is on dirt roads, but they’re in decent shape, and the views are amazing.”

  “Maybe you could ride up there with me—we could go on a hike or something.” He shot her a look that no sane woman could say no to.

  Ellie’s pulse ticked faster. She knew all too well where looks like that could lead, and she wasn’t ready to go there. Even so, the thought of being on the back of Collin’s bike with her arms wrapped around him sent a thrill rushing through her.

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and tugged in a deep breath. “Maybe I could.”

  Chapter 3

  Collin accelerated the motorcycle along the dirt-road straightaway, and took the next curve too fast—totally worth the risk to have Ellie lean in closer and clutch him tighter. He’d been angling more for a one-night stand—maybe two?—than a motorcycle ride, meet the brother, and go on a hike. This was technically outside his rules…

  Pick up women.

  Don’t get involved.

  He wasn’t getting involved. Sometimes picking up women became a little complicated. This was just part of the process.

  Buying an extra motorcycle helmet was part of the process?

  Collin clenched his teeth. A guy had to do what a guy had to do.

  The heat of the high-altitude Saturday-morning sun balanced the cool breeze that shifted around him and Ellie as they wound through dense green forests and sped past shimmering lakes. A whiff of Ellie’s fresh citrusy perfume had his systems on alert. How long would his hiking pants stay comfortable with that sexy scent taunting him, and those perfect C’s pressed against his back?

  Ellie had gotten his full attention the second he’d shown up at the gallery to pick her up. She’d walked out looking like a stunner in snug black hiking pants, a white camisole, and a deep V-neck, light green sports tunic. After slipping on a weathered black leather jacket, she’d straddled his bike like a pro, put on her helmet, and settled in for the ride. “This is going to be sweet,” she’d said with a glimmer in her eyes.

  Collin had shot her a smile fit for the short photo shoot he’d endured the other night. Ellie gave him a thrill that his ex never had. Megan had hated his motorcycle. Wouldn’t go near “the thing,” much less ride with him. She hadn’t been curious about his interests, or even tolerant, in some cases—a huge red flag he should’ve heeded. Before he’d come to his senses and broken off their engagement, she had almost convinced him to sell the Ducati.

  With Ellie’s arms around him, he sped into the next turn, the bike kicking up a plume of dust behind them.

  The bike or the ex?

  Another hint of Ellie’s perfume confirmed that he’d definitely made the right choice.

  About a half mile into the next straightaway, the road cut through a rugged outpost of rustic buildings and random cabins. Ellie released her grip on him and gestured for him to slow down and take a right.

  He eased the bike into the gravel parking area in front of the Visitor Center of the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory, a modest-sized, caramel-colored log structure with a brown corrugated tin roof. Four thick columns hewn from knotty logs supported a gabled entryway. Pairs of Adirondack chairs flanked both sides of the walkway, two occupied by a middle-aged couple dressed in hiking gear.

  Collin cut the engine, dropped the kickstand, and made sure the bike was steady before he got off. He took Ellie’s hand and helped her off, too. They removed their helmets and Collin hung them from the handgrips, one on each side.

  Ellie tugged the elastic band from her hair and shook her head, the golden waves cascading around her shoulders. With her bright blue eyes—and a smattering of freckles over her nose—she was a hundred degrees of hot even though it was only in the sixties up here at 9,500 feet.

  She faced him with a dazed smile. “Speed demon,” she teased.

  Collin raised his eyebrows. “Too fast?”

  “Not nearly. I just wish I was driving.”

  That could’ve been really dangerous—even if she was a pro biker. He wouldn’t be able to trust himself after having his arms around her for miles.

  Ellie turned her back to the Visitor Center and gestured at the stop-and-stare sight of the majestic mountain that towered in the near distance. “That’s Gothic Mountain, so called because it looks like a medieval church. The town is named after it.”

  Collin checked out the imposing stone edifice glimmering with bright and shadowy shades of silver in the gleam of the morning sun. Shifting his gaze, he glanced up and down the street at the cabins and buildings that dotted the landscape for about a quarter mile. “Calling it a town is being generous.”

  “True. Population one hundred sixty, and only during the summers when the students and researchers come to study stuff like storm patterns and stream biology. Butterflies and bumblebees. But back in the late 1800s, this used to be a booming mining town called Gothic City.”

  Collin lowered his eyebrows.

  “Things started out really good, but didn’t end well,” Ellie said. “Believe it or not, some of these buildings were here back then.”

  “Still standing after all that time, and the incredibly grueling weather?” A few of the local guys up at the Big Star site talked about the bitter winters, with feet of snow on the ground for months at a time. And Collin was well aware of the brutal dry heat of the summer sun and wind—he experienced it nearly every day at the site.

  “Amazing, right?” Ellie pulled her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the time. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes before we have to meet Brian at his cabin. Want to get some ice cream, and I’ll give you the nickel tour?”

  He glanced around the site. “Ice cream?”

  “It’s not just for breakfast anymore,” she said. “We can get some inside.” She hitched her chin toward the Visitor Center. “This is a renowned ice-cream stop for tourists and hikers and bikers.
I’ve passed it a hundred times, and stopped for ice cream about seventy-two of those.”

  He laughed, sincere and easy. “Seventy-two times?”

  “At least.” Ellie led him inside the Visitor Center, where several people milled around, looking at the exhibits and shopping for books, T-shirts, and souvenirs. She stopped next to a glass-topped freezer filled with packaged ice-cream treats, her lips tugging up at the corners. “How about I pick one for you, and you pick one for me?”

  He shrugged, and nodded.

  “You first,” she said.

  Collin surveyed the choices, and settled on one quickly. He lifted the glass door and pulled out a Push-Up. “One for you.” It was light and sweet, and he’d definitely enjoy watching her eat it.

  She nodded happily. “One of my favorites.”

  Ellie didn’t hesitate with her choice. She opened the freezer and pulled out a Big Wheel. “Best match for you.”

  He nodded, liking her selection. “Makes sense, with the motorcycle and everything.”

  “I was thinking more about those plastic three-wheelers little kids pedal around on.” She winked.

  “Easy there. I’m your ride back to town and I can redefine ‘Big Wheel’ on the way.”

  Her eyes glimmered. “Promise?”