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Right. He needed to remember that.

Kirsten was running toward the girls while Holden and West trailed after her. The bar was crowded—it was mostly locals at the Forks Bar on a Saturday night and it was still early in the season. West heard a few people call his name and he smiled and nodded, not in the mood to try to make small talk or worse, catch up after he'd been gone for so many years. He suddenly had only one goal tonight:

Get close to Harper.

Catch a whiff of her mysterious scent. Maybe touch her—innocently of course. She was a taken woman. Hell, she lived with the guy. And why that felt like such a kick in the gut, West wasn't sure. He didn't want to analyze it too closely either.

“I'm mad at you,” Wren said the moment he approached.

West frowned. “Why? What'd I do?”

“You didn't invite me to your Gallagher family dinner last night. Though I guess you wouldn't considering it was men only.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, clearly bent out of shape.

“It's not like I purposely excluded you,” West defended, hoping like hell Harper wouldn't think less of him for not inviting his sister to last night's lame-ass dinner. He figured Wren would've turned him down anyway. Why would she want to hang out with her three annoying brothers? Of course, she'd always tried to tag along when they were younger . . .

“Whatever. I'm sure it sucked anyway. Not like I missed anything.” Wren waved a hand, clearly already over it. Plus, the bartender had just set two shot glasses in front of the girls. Wren grinned madly at Harper as she handed one of the glasses to her. “Bottoms up!”

Harper hadn't even looked in his direction yet and he was surprisingly butt hurt. He watched as she grabbed the glass and clinked it to the edge of Wren's before tossing her head back and drinking that shot down in one smooth swallow. She made a sexy little satisfied noise as she slammed her now empty glass on the counter, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and beaming at his sister.

Ah shit. Was that his dick twitching to life? He had no idea watching Harper
drink
would be so damn arousing. He needed to get himself in check and stat. She was a taken woman. He had no business lusting after her. She belonged to someone else.

The thought alone made his mouth dry as sand.

“I need a drink,” he muttered to no one in particular.

“Want me to order you something?” Harper asked sweetly.

West did a double take, shock coursing through him. Did she just offer to do something nice for him? Yesterday when they talked she'd both insulted and snubbed him all in a matter of seconds. “Uh, sure. A beer?”

“Pale ale?” She lifted her brows.

His skin went warm. She remembered his favorite beer. Way to get to a man's heart and quick. “Yeah. That would be great. Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” She turned toward the bartender, waving her hand until she got his attention. He made his way over to where she and Wren sat and the both of them gave the guy an earful, orders from everyone.

But Harper asked for only West's order. Why that little detail made him feel special, he wasn't sure. He wasn't going to dwell on it. He couldn't. Nothing could happen between them. Not ever.

He had the urge to get a beer in hand even more now.

“We're celebrating,” Wren told him when the bartender walked away.

He raised a brow. “What are you celebrating?”

“Wren.” Harper's tone was a warning, and Wren pressed her lips together, looking like she might burst. “Don't say it.”

Now he was curious. Though what if they were celebrating Harper's engagement to the dude she lived with? Hey, it could happen. Living with someone was quite the commitment. One he couldn't imagine wanting to embark on. He wasn't even ready for a relationship.

He didn't think he'd ever be ready.

Wren's lips parted and she sucked in air before she blurted, “Harper's a free woman.”

West frowned, his gaze sliding to Harper's. “Free?”

Harper glared at his sister before she offered him a weak smile. “Um, my boyfriend and I . . . ”

“She dumped him,” Wren interrupted. “And about damn time too. He was
so boring.
”

Harper said nothing. Neither could West. His brain was too busy reworking what Wren had just told him. Harper was single. This was good news.

Excellent news.

“You promised you wouldn't bash him,” Harper said quietly.

“I'm sorry. You know I get mouthy when I drink.” Lamest excuse ever. Wren was always mouthy. “West, you're lucky you didn't witness those two together. They made a horrible couple.”

He could see the hurt etched all over Harper's face, but she wasn't saying anything. “Wren, lay off.”

“Please.” Wren waved a hand. “Harper knows the truth. I mean, come on. They worked together, which was the first mistake. How exciting could an accountant be?”

West raised his brows. “Aren't
you
an accountant?” Would Harper continue working with her now ex-boyfriend? That would be . . . weird.

“Bookkeeper.” Wren waved her hand around again, nearly slapping West's cheek. He dodged out of her way.

“Same diff,” Harper muttered under her breath.

“You two aren't going to start fighting are you?” West asked warily. They used to when they were kids, over stupid girl stuff that drove him up the damn wall.

“Did someone say the word
catfight
?” A male voice asked from behind him. West turned to find a guy around his age smiling widely, his gaze only for Wren, who glared at him in return. “I'd pay money to see you tumble around with your bestie, Gallagher, especially if the clothes start flying off.” He started to laugh.

West frowned. Who was this dude? And why was he calling Wren by her last name? Clearly it bugged the shit out of her.

“Shut the hell up,” Wren muttered, turning her charm onto the bartender, who approached with all the drinks. “Ooh, yay. I'm thirsty.”

Harper grabbed West's beer from the counter and handed it to him, her fingers brushing against his when he took the bottle. Electricity sparked between them and he wondered at that. Remembered how it had been between them before. So hot, they'd nearly set each other on fire.

He wondered if that would happen again, was tempted to make a move on her if only to see if they could still create that heat.

But he couldn't. She just broke up with her live-in boyfriend. That was serious. She was probably nursing a broken heart. Was it wrong that he found her timing impeccable? Probably. Harper had
serious girlfriend
written all over her and he had
hey, let's get drunk and screw around for one night
written all over him.

Didn't mean he couldn't flirt with her for just a little bit tonight though. Test the waters, so to speak. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low. Just for her. “Did I tell you that you look pretty tonight?”

Her cheeks turned the faintest pink. “Stop.”

“I'm serious.” He tipped the bottle to his lips and drank, the icy-cold beer sliding down his throat. She watched him the entire time, her gaze never leaving him, and he wondered at that too. “You were sort of rude to me at the supermarket yesterday,” he said after he swallowed, setting his beer on the counter right next to her.

She made a little face. “I was having a bad day.”

“And seeing me made it worse?” He was practically holding his breath waiting for her answer, which was crazy. “Never mind, don't answer that.”

“Oh, no you don't. I want to answer your question.” She touched him, her fingers pressing into his forearm, and he went completely still. “Seeing you didn't make my day worse. But it did bring up some . . . old memories.”

“Good or bad ones?” He sounded nervous. Hell, he
was
nervous. There was something about Harper that set him on edge.

Harper parted her perfect pink lips, ready to say something just as Wren butted in.

“Weston, I forgot to introduce you to Tate Warren. He works at your station.”

He turned to find the guy who called his sister by her last name smiling at him, holding his hand out. “Good to meet you, man,” Tate said.

West shook his hand, getting the distinct feeling he was being sized up. Fine with him, considering he was sizing up Tate too. What the hell kind of name was Tate? Though he had no room to talk. His entire family had slightly unusual names.

“Nice meeting you too,” West said. “What's your position? You a firefighter?” The guy couldn't be much older than him, maybe was even younger.

Tate grinned. “I'm your captain.”

How could he not remember Warren's name? Oh yeah, he'd been interviewed by a panel of battalion chiefs, all of whom worked at the ranger unit's headquarters. So he'd never had a chance to actually meet his new captains.

“And we're ready to have you at the station,” Tate continued. “Nothing better than knowing a Gallagher is coming to work with us. Your father is a freaking legend around these parts.”

It took everything within him not to grimace. Or worse, tell his new captain to fuck off. He hated hearing anyone talk about his so-called legendary father. The man merely did his job. He wasn't a legend. Yeah, he knew Holden ate that crap up with a giant gold spoon, but not West. He never had. The constant comparisons to his father were the main reason he got out of Wildwood.

Now he worried it might've been a major mistake to come back.

“Glad you think so highly of him,” West said, his voice tight. He saw the questioning look in Tate's eyes and mentally told himself to relax. “Looking forward to working with you and everyone else this season.”

“It's going to be crazy, I can practically guarantee it.” Tate grinned again. “But we're ready. I'm figuring you are, too?”

The assured smile West offered him felt natural, as did the words that slipped past his lips.

“I was born ready.”

“S
O YOU BROKE
up with him.” Rebecca Hill smiled at Harper, reaching out to pat her hand. “It was probably for the best. I never really thought the two of you suited.”

Her grandmother slung the insult with a sweet smile so Harper really couldn't be offended. Her grandma hadn't approved of her relationship with Roger from the beginning, and Harper could never figure out why. Throughout her life she'd valued her grandma's opinion so much, but for once, she'd gone against her advice. Moving in with him had thrown practically the entire Hill family into a tizzy.

But Harper had thought they were going to get married and she'd gone for it anyway. Despite the disapproval. Despite her friends asking if being with Roger was what she really wanted. She'd ignored them all, firmly believing she knew best.

What made it worse? She'd have to quit her job. Working for Roger . . . she couldn't do it. Being essentially his secretary for the last two years? Why had she let herself become trapped in such a menial job? All for a man?

She almost wanted to slap herself.

“You were right,” Harper admitted, swallowing past the bitter lump in her throat. “I should've listened to you.”

“There, there.” Her grandma patted her again before wrapping her hands around the large coffee mug sitting in front of her. “We all need to break free and try something on our own. Most of the time that involves not listening to what well-meaning people tell us. Unwanted and unasked-for advice is the worst, isn't it?”

The absolute worst. She'd already dealt with the lecture from her mom and had been thankful her father hadn't had much to say about it. She just wanted to move on and not focus on any of that anymore. What was done was done.

“When was your break-free moment?” Harper asked. If she said marrying Harper's grandpa, she'd want to bang her own head against a wall. Her grandparents had the sweetest relationship in the world. Everyone aspired to be them, including Harper. She'd been incredibly close to her grandpa, spending most of her time with him when she was little, up until he died unexpectedly when she was fifteen. She'd been devastated. The entire Hill family had been in a state of shock over the sudden loss. Her grandmother had mourned properly then soldiered on, and even eventually opened her own business.

And they were sitting in the same business at this very moment.

“After your grandfather died, there were all sorts of people offering up every little bit of advice you could imagine. Most of my friends, my family, and especially your father.” Her eldest son. “They all wanted to tell me what to do next, how I should live my life, but I was still young! Despite being a grandma and settled, perfectly content in the life we'd created together, I knew I still had a lot of years in me. I wasn't going to die along with my husband.”

Harper nodded, fighting the sadness that always threatened when they talked about her grandpa. She wished he were still here. He'd give her good advice about Roger. He'd give her good advice about anything and everything.

“Your grandpa died so quickly, it was shocking. And losing him like that immediately filled me with this sense of purpose I'd never felt before. I knew I had to stop worrying over what other people thought about me and do exactly what I wanted.” Grandma glanced around the room, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “So I opened this place.”

The Bigfoot Diner. It was the most kitschy, ridiculous restaurant in all of Wildwood, if not the entire county. An ode to her grandfather, who had loved anything and everything having to do with Bigfoot. He'd always said he wanted to open a restaurant that everyone would call the BFD. He'd talked about it for years, scoping out available restaurants when they were for sale, contemplating exactly how he would open one and what he would do. He'd even created a menu, giving the items creative Bigfoot-related names.

No one had taken him seriously. Except his wife.

No one thought it was a joke now. Everyone loved the Bigfoot Diner. It had the best hamburgers in town. All of the food was good. The restaurant's Yelp rating was a solid 4.6 and it had over one thousand reviews. Her grandma had taken her late husband's dream and turned it into a reality—and a total success.

“Your break-free moment was a positive one,” Harper pointed out.

“I had many, many others that weren't so positive.” Her grandma smiled. “You have to remember I've been around a lot longer than you, dear. You're still young. You still have many break-free moments to look forward to. Some of them will be mistakes, but don't let them get you down. That's just a part of life.”

Harper took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She hoped her grandma was right. Breaking up with Roger so quickly hadn't allowed her much time to consider the other things that came with ending their relationship. Like . . . finding a new place to live. Finding a new job. She'd never describe herself as spontaneous, but this was by far the most spontaneous thing she'd ever done. “Do you mind if I stay with you for a while longer? Until I figure out what I'm going to do next?” she asked.

Her grandma gave her a look, one that said she was surprised at the question. “Well . . . I suppose. Though I hope you don't cramp my style.”

Harper frowned. “Cramp your style? How could I do that?” Yes, fine, she knew her grandma had a better social life than she did, but how could she hold her back? Grandma did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted to.

“I do have . . . friends. Of a . . . gentleman nature.” Her grandma's lips screwed up into a little bright pink pout.

Harper kept her expression completely neutral. “I won't interfere with your dates. I promise.”

“Not just dates.” Grandma leaned over the table, her voice lowering to a whisper. “Sometimes I have sleepovers too.”

Oh.
She really tried not to look too scandalized, but she could feel her eyes growing wider. The last thing she wanted to think about was her grandma um . . . yeah. She couldn't even go there in her own head. “Well, if you're worried about me cramping your style, maybe I could stay at the condo?”

“Weston Gallagher lives there now, remember?” Grandma smiled.

No, Harper didn't remember because no one had mentioned that he was the new resident in her grandma's condo by the lake. “I didn't know,” she mumbled.

“Oh, yes. He promised he'd fix the place up too. Nothing I like more than a man who's good with his hands.”

Harper's cheeks went hot. West was very good with his hands. She could personally testify to that statement. She couldn't believe he lived there. She'd stayed at the condo before she moved in with Roger, so was he sleeping in her old bed, too? Most likely.

She hadn't seen West since the Forks Bar a few nights ago. They'd flirted a little bit, but once Tate entered the bar, he'd monopolized West for the rest of the evening. They'd talked about work, and though at one point she'd sworn West looked a little pained over whatever they were chatting about, overall he and Tate seemed to get along just fine.

And for whatever reason, that had driven Wren crazy. She'd muttered about it to Harper the entire night, watching her brother and Tate far too closely. Harper noticed Tate kept looking over at them, offering up a sexy smile, his gaze only for . . .

Wren.

There was definitely something brewing between Wren and Tate, though Harper had no idea why Wren was fighting it so hard. Had Harper been so wrapped up in her own boring relationship she hadn't noticed that her best friend and Tate had some sort of thing going on? Why hadn't Wren ever mentioned it to her before? Why weren't they
acting
on it? If Harper had a guy as hot as Tate salivating over her and she was single, she'd go for it, no question. Wren wasn't attached and neither was Tate. So what was the big deal?

She swore she was going to find out. And soon.

“I'm guessing since West won't be there much, what with work and all, maybe you could ask him if he needs a roommate. Then you could take the guest bedroom. What do you think?” her grandma asked.

Horror filled Harper and she furiously shook her head. She thought her grandma had straight lost her mind, that's what. “Um, absolutely not. I can't move in with West. That's . . . crazy.”

“Why? He's only there half the time and once the fire season really kicks into gear, he probably won't be there hardly ever,” Grandma pointed out. “Hmm, I do hope he's going to work on the condo before he gets too wrapped up in fighting fires.”

What her grandma was suggesting was ludicrous. She couldn't even begin to wrap her head around the idea of living with West. Spending lots of time with him, seeing him during private, intimate moments: West fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips and his skin still damp. Or West first thing in the morning, his dark hair a mess, his eyes sleepy as he shuffled into the kitchen in search of coffee.

Hmm. Maybe she
could
imagine it. That was the problem.

“Living with West is out of the question,” Harper finally said, glancing down at her empty coffee cup. “I need a job, too, Grandma. Just something temporary until I can—”

Her grandma cut her off, resting a hand to her chest, her bright red nails flashing as she said, “Oh, thank the Lord above. I thought you were going to continue working for Roger and that just wouldn't
do
, Harper. Not at all.”

“You're right, I know. I just . . . I couldn't do it. I need to find something else.”

She was here on a Wednesday morning. Roger had given her the week off—paid of course—so she could go in search of another job. But they were so few and far between in Wildwood. Maybe she could wait tables at the BFD until something better came along. Not that she was especially good at waiting tables, but a girl had to make money to live.

And Roger understood. He always understood. While at one point in their relationship she'd found his intuitive ways nurturing, so reaffirming of his love, after a while, it had just started to grate on her nerves. Why hadn't he ever yelled? Gotten mad? He had one mood and it was always the same: Calm. Even. Unruffled. In certain situations, it came in handy. But other times, she wanted more. She wanted . . .

Passion. It always came back to that.

“Of course you couldn't continue working for him. Now you're going to work for me.”

Harper blinked at her grandmother, remaining silent. This was exactly what she wanted, but she'd figured she'd have to ask for the job.

“If I could give you one bit of relationship advice, I'd say never allow the man you're dating to be in a position of power over you. Roger was your
boss
.”

Grandma shook her head, her gaze going hazy like it did when she was reminiscing. “I never dated a man I worked for. Not like I've worked many jobs in my life, to be truthful. But did you know that crazy old coot Buster Boner tried to hit me up about a year after your grandpa passed? He approached me at one of those Friday Nights at the Lake events and told me he had seventy-five thousand dollars in savings and two tickets to Hawaii—was I in?”

Her grandma changed subjects as quickly as the wind shifted on a particularly hot day in Wildwood.

“Were you in for what?” Harper vaguely remembered Buster Boner. First, because really, who could forget that completely unforgivable and horrendous name? Buster was a nickname—he'd actually chosen to be called that versus whatever his real name was. He'd been a part of her grandma's social circle back when Harper was a teenager and he was quite the storyteller.

“He wanted to
take care of me
.” Grandma made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “Saw me as a helpless old widow I guess. Thought he'd win me over with an exotic trip and oodles of money.” Grandma shook her head, made a disapproving noise. “Men. They're ridiculous. Or they're wonderful. Take your pick.”

Harper laughed. “They're all of those things. I completely agree.”

“Of course you do. Now.” Grandma slid out of the booth and clapped her hands once. Her signal that meant she was getting down to business. “Let me show you what I'd like you to do for me here at the BFD.”

Harper followed suit, frowning as she stood. “I thought I would just be a waitress?” The very last thing she wanted to be. Maybe she could be the cashier instead? Or the hostess? Though the BFD never had someone who was strictly the hostess. God, she didn't know what she was going to do.

“Oh, goodness
no.
You're too qualified for that. I'm going to let you into my inner sanctum, you lucky girl.” Her grandma started walking toward the back of the restaurant, but Harper remained rooted to the floor.

The inner sanctum was code for her grandma's office. She never let anyone back there. It was forbidden. She had her own filing system—total chaos—and if anyone came in and toppled over one of the piles of receipts or folders or whatever, that was it. Her grandma went into a full-blown tizzy, shooing them out and barricading the door.

So everyone just stayed out of her office. It was easier that way.

When Harper still hadn't followed her grandma turned, glaring at her. “Come on now. I don't have all day.”

“Um, why do you want me to go to your office?” Harper asked nervously.

Grandma had a look on her face that clearly said
duh
. “Because I want you to eventually take over the business, my darling girl. No one else could run this place but me—or you. And besides”—she grinned—“I have over two hundred thousand in the bank and I plan on buying two tickets to Hawaii. I'm going to need some time trying to size up which old coot I want to take along with me when I retire once and for all.”

“I'
M FUCKING STARVING
,” West muttered under his breath as he hopped out of the fire engine and slammed the door. The rest of his shift team joined him at the back of the engine and they all headed toward the entrance of the restaurant together as one.