Now Dane found himself back in his hometown, and avoiding everyone there. If there was anyone who hadn’t forgotten Casanova Croft, it was the people of Bluebonnet. He’d been leery to return to town, expecting the worst. As far as he knew, he was the only person from town who had ever had fifteen minutes of fame, and he expected harassment. So far, though, so good. He kept a low profile, and for the most part, the usually nosy citizens of Bluebonnet had left him alone. Just as he liked it.
Well, he wasn’t being totally honest about not wanting to look up anyone. One particular person did spring to mind, but he was pretty sure Miranda Hill wanted nothing to do with him. The last time he’d spoken to her had been in person, and when he’d tried calling her from NHL training camp, she’d ignored his calls—or worse, made her crazy mother answer them.
After getting chewed out by Mrs. Hill three times in a row, he got the picture. He’d stopped calling, and stopped caring. There were always more girls willing to throw themselves at a hockey player, especially a hotshot up-and-comer.
He’d eventually forgotten about Miranda Hill, the one that had gotten away. Well, sort of. And if he’d had a thing for long brown hair and girls with a soft Southern drawl, that was just how it went. Miranda Hill had probably moved away long ago. Maybe she’d gotten married and shot out five kids in five years like his cousin Tara had, and now spent her time chain-smoking and watching daytime TV. Either way, it was best if Miranda Hill remained a memory.
So, no, he wasn’t going to look her up.
The business’s only other employee—their coordination assistant, Brenna James—showed up a moment later with her clipboard and a beaming smile on her face. “Guess whose clients are here? Are you two ready?”
Colt kicked up out of his chair, putting down his game controller. “Soon.”
Always so chatty, that Colt. “I’m ready,” Dane said, grabbing the two packs. Colt had packed his hours ago in preparation for the trip, but Dane had delayed, waiting until the last moment. Almost as if he was delaying the inevitable.
Colt gave him a serious look. “Hope so.”
Irritation surged in Dane and he ignored his friend’s well-meaning look. The guys either trusted him or they didn’t. He could keep his dick in his pants. It wasn’t like he was some oversexed nutjob waiting to jump out of the bushes at the first pretty girl that passed by.
Not anymore.
Grant appeared in the room, grinning. He carried a champagne bottle and three glasses. “This is it, boys. Our big inaugural class. You ready?”
Dane was starting to wish that everyone would quit asking him if he was ready. “Gonna be a good one,” he said, and rubbed his hands together. “You ready to sit on your ass and soak up the profits from Colt’s and my hard work?”
Grant rolled his eyes and removed the foil from the top of the champagne bottle. “More like, you two get to have a weeklong vacation in the woods and I have to hold down the fort and do all the busywork. There are a million things to be done between now and when you guys get back, and Brenna’s not going to be much help.”
“You like busywork,” Colt said. “You make more for yourself just so you have shit to do.”
Grant popped the cork on the champagne. “Time to celebrate.”
Colt looked at the champagne with distaste. “You shoulda brought beer.”
“Beer isn’t for celebrating,” Grant said, ignoring Colt’s sour mood. He poured a glass for Dane and handed it over.
Dane took it, but he only half paid attention until the other two men raised their drinks.
“To success,” Grant said.
“Success,” Colt echoed.
To a week of proving to his buddies that his dick didn’t run his life. “To success,” Dane said, and then downed the champagne.
The two men emerged from the lodge and Dane squinted up at the sun. It was perfect weather for their first excursion—sixty-five degrees with no rain. The rain could come later in the week, but today? Today was perfect. This was a good omen, Dane decided, his mood light. Piece of cake.
Brenna steered him toward one of two lines of waiting clients—men in camo clothes who had probably never been more “outdoors” than a corporate gym. He put on his camera-ready smile and began the meet and greet—okay, some things weren’t all that different from hockey. The first guy was a small business owner, the next a lawyer looking to send his team of attorneys through the training if they liked the class. Dane hadn’t believed Grant when he said that corporations would pay big bucks for this sort of thing, but sure enough, every single man he shook hands with was testing out the class for a corporate club or toastmasters or a professionals group.
No pressure.
Dane shook the hands of five men before coming to the end of the line and his sixth and final “student” for the week. To his surprise, the person that came out from behind the parked jeep was none other than Miranda Hill, the girl he’d left behind nine years ago. The one that had gotten away. The one he’d fantasized about for years.
He stared at her in surprise. “Miranda?”
She tilted her head, shiny brown hair sliding over her shoulder. “Don’t I get a handshake, too?”
“What are you doing here?” She looked exactly the same as she had nine years ago—same great hair, same dark doe eyes, same amazing figure with an even better rack. This had to be a test from Colt and Grant. “I’m, uh.” He glanced back at Colt, openly skeptical that his fantasy girl had somehow shown up on the first day of the new business, but Colt was busy greeting his own students and wasn’t looking in his direction. “I’m a little busy right now.”
She pulled a baseball cap over her hair and smiled at him. Well…damn. Miranda wasn’t anything like his cousin Tara. If anything, she looked better than she had when he’d left nine years ago. Her slim figure was lush with curves, and she had a healthy tan. She wore a high-necked maroon top with a pair of scruffy jean shorts and beat-up sneakers. A bag was tossed over her shoulder and she was looking at him expectantly.
He didn’t know what to say.
“Dane,” Brenna said between gritted teeth. She poked him in the arm with her oversized pen. “Miranda has signed up for the survival training. You’ll be her instructor this week.”
Damn. He looked at the welcoming smile gracing her mouth, the casual hand on her hip, and a rush of memories flooded through him. Her soft mouth on his, the feel of her skin underneath his hands. The eager teenager had turned into an amazingly sexy woman. He looked into her smiling eyes and the curve of her mouth and felt his c**k stir.