Page 95 of Seale the Deal

He releases her but keeps her by the shoulders. Look at you. He nods decisively. Far too good for Ruger.

Hey!

She bursts out laughing as he finally lets her go.

See? Peter says, giving me a playful pat on the shoulder. She knows it too.

Whatever, old man, I say with far more affection than he deserves.

How did you two meet? he asks.

Through Remi, I say, and Wrenley nods in agreement.

I was visiting her and, of course, met him, and, well… the beard, the camo, the rugged masculinity. She shrugs.

Heat runs up the back of my neck, and my brain momentarily latches onto two words: rugged masculinity. Is that really what she noticed, or is it just for this conversation? Either way, I like it.

He fooled you, Peter says with a smirk. Got it.

Wrenley nods. Exactly.

This meeting is not going my way, I mutter.

Where were you visiting from? Peter asks.

Canada, she says. Vancouver.

Peter’s brows shoot up. How did he convince you to go from Vancouver to Alpine Harbor?

I ask myself that every day, Wrenley says, shooting me a teasing look.

I shake my head. Can we go back to my rugged masculinity?

Tell me everything, Peter says.

Wrenley talks about adjusting to small-town life. We share our carefully rehearsed story, hitting all the beats: where we met, how long we’ve been together, how long the visa process took. Peter eats up every word.

Eventually, he claps his hands together. Well, you’ve got the run of the place. When you’re done, come back, and we’ll do part two.

Part two? Wrenley asks.

I look at her and grin. Let’s see if you survive part one.

We head around the side of the cabin, and Wrenley lets out an excited squeal.

Dasher! Dancer! Prancer! She scampers toward the fence, eyes locked on the small herd beyond it. Vixen! Comet! Cupid! Donner! And a very grumpy-looking Blitzen!

I shove my hands into my coat pockets and laugh. Why is the grumpy one Blitzen?

She shrugs. It was the only name I had left.

She’s ridiculous.

Ridiculously perfect. Oh my God. My brain needs to shut up.

However, seeing this farm I spent so much of my childhood on and then eventually worked on through Wrenley’s eyes is kind of perfect.

I grab a bucket of feed and walk it over to her. You know you got all their names wrong, right?