Haley's Mountain Man. Tracy Madison

how she yearned to see him with a real smile. With nothing but happiness in his eyes, instead of shadows. That also would be a gift.

      “You’re something else, Haley Foster,” he said after a long, assessing moment. “What the something is, I haven’t quite decided, but … something.”

      “You mentioned that. Earlier.” Then, she’d thought he meant it as a compliment. Now, she wasn’t so sure. “Ten minutes, Gavin. Can you give me that? Please?”

      He sighed. “You aren’t going to leave otherwise, are you?”

      “No.” She lifted her chin another stubborn inch. “Not until you hear me out. Ten minutes,” she wheedled. “Tops.”

      “Does anyone ever say no to you?”

      “Yes. Fairly often, in fact.” Usually, though, she found ways to sidestep those noes until they became yeses. Or simply pretended she hadn’t heard the no to begin with. “Feel free to say no. Really. Doesn’t mean I’ll hear it, though.”

      “I figured as much,” he mumbled in resignation. “Go on, then. Say whatever it is you came here to say before I change my mind.”

      Mentally, she pumped her fist in the air and did the victory dance. In reality, she reminded herself to take it slow. Careful. She started with, “I surprised you when I offered to help at the Beanery. Sometimes, I get ahead of myself, and I didn’t handle that all that well.”

      “Agreed” was all he said. But the corners of his mouth curved upward the slightest amount, and that … Well, that was a start, and she’d take it. “Go on.”

      “I would like to explain myself more fully, and then, once I have, I’m hoping you’ll reconsider. I am serious about this, and I already have a few ideas, and I think—”

      “Nope,” he said instantly, quietly. “Don’t think I’ll be reconsidering, though I appreciate your … perseverance.”

      “Really, Gavin? You won’t hear me out?”

      “No reason to.” Another barely there shake of his head. “There isn’t anything you could say on this topic that would make a difference.”

      “You don’t know that.” When he started to object, she rushed forward, saying, “You might think so, but you don’t. And while I can’t guarantee my family will agree to a … collaboration, I guess that’s the word, I think it’s a possibility worth looking into.”

      “We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Calm, collected. But the hint of a grin was gone.

      “Okay, look,” she said hurriedly, before he ordered her to leave again. “Even if they don’t want to move forward, I can still help. With the flyers and other advertising, your website, and I can certainly help get the word out. I’m pretty good at that stuff.”

      “Which again brings up the question—why?” Before she could reply, he held up a hand. “That question doesn’t require an answer, and I shouldn’t have asked it. I’ve heard enough. Some things are just the way they are. Some people do better on their own. Simple as that.”

      “Nothing is that simple.”

      “This is. Seriously, Haley, I think it’s … generous to be so giving, but relying on others isn’t my thing. Period. Never has been, never will be, and I don’t see that changing.”

      “Ever?”

      “Ever,” he confirmed, without doubt or hesitation.

      Well, hell. His conviction was clear and absolute. She couldn’t deny it, even though she wished she could. There was nothing else to do or say, nothing at all that would change his mind, to even convince him to listen to her. And strangely, the realization hurt.

      Strangely, she had the sense of almost achieving something of great worth, and the loss of that indefinable something weighed heavily inside, in the air, in every breath she took.

      Yeah, it hurt. More than she understood.

      “I feel sorry for you,” she said softly. “Because I’m a good person, and I believe you’re a good person, and yeah, I definitely have impulse-control issues. But, Gavin, here I am, offering to help. Offering you … friendship, and you’re too proud or stubborn or something else, something I can’t identify, to even try. And I think that’s sad.”

      He didn’t respond. Didn’t look as if he were even breathing, as if he even cared that she’d put herself out there. Well, why would he? Why should he? As he’d said over and over and over, she didn’t know him. And, well, he didn’t know her. In his head, she was just some crazy chick who’d had the audacity to follow him home. Really, she couldn’t blame him.

      It was her turn to walk away, and so she did. The sensation of that incredible loss stayed with her as she trekked back to her car. In this scenario, she knew she’d misfired. There were so many other ways she could have gone about this. Better ways. More logical ways.

      Hindsight, she decided, was the devil.

      She tried to tell herself that she was being silly and over-emotional. Maybe even believed both to a certain degree. But when she tried to convince herself that, perhaps, Gavin’s refusal was for the best, and she’d see the wisdom of his rejection down the road someday, she couldn’t buy into the mind-set. All of this just felt wrong.

      Almost heartbreakingly so.

      At her car, she stopped for a second to regain her balance. Birds were singing, tree branches swayed and the cool bite of the wind touched her cheeks. All of which served to settle her mind and ease her whipped-up emotions. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d tried. Which, really, was about all anyone could do. There wasn’t any reason to kick herself over it.

      Not for very long, at any rate.

      She’d stop at the store for a pint of ice cream, go home, find another movie to watch or a book to read. Settle in and relax. By nightfall, she’d have put her encounter with Gavin into the proper, noncrazy perspective and she would return to normal. Hopefully, the nonitchy, nonrestless state of normal. If not, she’d go back to waiting for summer and twelve-hour workdays.

      A sensible plan, for sure. She reached for the car door, her intent to follow through, when a hand lightly gripped her shoulder. Her muscles froze and her heart picked up speed. Heat flared and wove its way through her limbs, raising goose bumps on her skin and warming her from the inside out, inch by delicious inch. He’d followed her? Wow … just wow.

      “Why do you want to be my friend?” Gavin asked slowly, hesitantly, from behind her. “What—what propelled you to make such a decision when you have no idea who I am?”

      She didn’t turn, didn’t move, didn’t even take in air. “I don’t know, not fully,” she said, going with honesty. “There’s something about you that calls to me, and I want to know what that something is. I want to get to know you, and I. Well, I think … that is, I believe, that you’re a person very much worth getting to know. If you’ll let me.”

      His hand tightened on her shoulder. Not a lot, but enough to know that her words had impacted him on some level. Silence enveloped her, them, for what could have been one second or a million years. Tracking the passage of time became inconsequential.

      Then the deep rumble of his voice hit her ears again. “If the offer still stands, I’d like to take you up on it. The friendship part, if not the other.”

      Tears, unbidden and totally unexpected, filled Haley’s eyes. This admittance was also important, also held weight and conviction. And she felt every ounce of that importance, that weight and conviction to the tips of her toes. In her heart, as well.

      Maybe even in her soul.

      “That is an offer that doesn’t have an expiration date,” she said, purposely keeping her tone light and breezy. “So yes, Gavin, the offer very much still stands.”

      “Okay,