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He whipped his head toward Elise. “Tell her about the mountain lion.”
The four of us naturally fell into a group, Weston and me behind Elise and Daisy. I listened to Elise tell the story of the time she thought she was hiking on her own. Little had she known, Weston had been following her. She’d fallen asleep by a stream, and when she woke, Weston was there, telling her to be quiet.
“Oh my god. I would have screamed if Miles had appeared out of nowhere,” Daisy said.
“I might have screamed, but he told me to look maybe fifteen feet away, and then I couldn’t even talk,” Elise replied.
Daisy gasped. “Was a mountain lion watching you?”
“Mmmhmm. If Weston hadn’t been there, I probably would have walked right into it and wouldn’t be here to talk about it.”
Weston tensed beside me, his hands balling into fists. I’d heard this story a couple times, and he never failed to look like he wanted to hunt down that mountain lion and wrestle it. It had been nearly two years, and West almost always walked slightly behind Elise when they hiked. I’d asked Elise about it once, and she’d explained mountain lions attacked from behind.
My brother.
Total dick at times, but there was no question he loved his woman.
Elise reached behind me to twine her fingers with West’s. They walked like that for a minute or two before he let her have her hand back. When he did, she looked at him over her shoulder, her dimple popping, and mouthed, “Love you.” He told her he loved her at full volume.
Elise and Daisy had an easy conversation going, discussing their favorite haunts in Denver, the best hiking spots, their jobs, people they both knew. Elise and I were a couple years older than Daisy, but growing up in the same town, friendships and acquaintances were bound to overlap.
“You’ll have to come to High Bar when I’m working,” Daisy said. “It’s a fun place to hang out, and once a month, the owner brings in some kind of act, like knife swallowers or acrobats.”
“You work in a bar, Daisy?” Weston asked.
“Only two nights a week now,” she answered, seeming ready to leave it at that. But my girl did more than wait tables. If she wasn’t going to toot her own horn, I would.
“Daisy is a contractor there. She has a sweet little business as a cigarette girl, only she sells her homemade cupcakes and charcuterie cups,” I explained. “You should see how feral the customers get for her treats.”
Elise turned to her. “Oh, do you wear one of those trays strapped around your neck?”
Daisy nodded, her cheeks slightly flushed. It might have been from physical exertion, but I hadn’t noticed them this red before. No, I swore my little Daisy was embarrassed.
“She wears a silly little hat on the side of her head too,” I added.
“A pillbox hat,” Daisy explained. “I play fast and loose with the time period of my costume, but none of my customers really question how accurate I am. They like the treats and short skirt.”
“Okay, I’m definitely making a point of visiting on a night you’re working. I’ll bring Saoirse. She’ll love it.” Elise bumped her shoulder into Daisy’s. “Don’t let me forget to grab your number before we head home.”
This was apparently what it was like to be dating a functional person who got along with my brother and future sister-in-law. In no time, Daisy and Elise were friends, and Weston wasn’t poised to vault between them to keep Elise safe.
I was nine months sober—nowhere near ready to date for real. When I was…I’d look for a girl just like Daisy. One free and clear of feelings for anyone else. She’d be a little grumpy, with enough pessimism to balance me out. Someone who was good with meeting new people and gave hugs tight enough to squeeze the juice out of me. There probably weren’t many out there like her, but she was setting the standard.
There was a stream at the turning point—not the one where the mountain lion had appeared. It was lucky Weston hadn’t razed the ground there back then. If Elise had tried to go back to that spot, he undoubtedly would have.
Elise and Weston took their shoes off to wade. Daisy plopped down on a flat rock, turning her face up to the sun. Since she was all good, I wandered around the area, stooping to pick a few wildflowers—one bunch for Elise, the other bigger one for Daisy.
When I got back, Daisy had lost her flannel, leaving her in a white, ribbed tank top that hugged her tits and stomach. Weston and Elise were a short way down the stream, so I took a moment to appreciate the hotness of my fake girlfriend.
I’d done well for myself, that was for sure.
Whoever had dumped her was an absolute idiot. If circumstances were different, I might’ve tried to win her over. Might’ve said something stupid, hoping she liked my sense of humor. If that hadn’t impressed, I probably would have flexed my arms to show her I was strong enough to toss her around if she wanted.
Christ.
It was a wonder I’d ever gotten laid. Then again, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d picked someone up while either of us were sober. I was a lot funnier to drunk people.
Sitting down on the rock beside her, I thrust the wildflowers at her. “For you.”
