Page 31 of Hearts Don't Lie
She held up her hand again and shook her head. “I’m not done. I moved out here and got on my feet and made a life. And here we are,” Mac said with a meaningful look and a flashing smile, indicating she was finished.
He narrowed his eyes at her, fascinated how she’d quickly wrapped up twelve years, especially the period after her arrival in Colorado. “That’s all of it?”
She contemplated him warily. “I told you what was off the table, so yes.” Mac unfolded to stand bent over, her shoulders brushing the tent ceiling. “All this talking has drained me. I’m going to turn in. Thanks—you always were a great listener. I feel better getting all that off my chest. Night.”
He didn’t feel better at all. So many questions. Hunger to know more. But he acquiesced, remembering how she dug her heels in, praying she would, as she had in the past, come forward with the other details if he gave her the time and space. The problem was there was little of either. “Night, Mac. I’m here if you want to unload the rest.”
“I’m good,” she said, giving him a dismissive smile, then exiting.
He watched the light from her lantern travel, fading after she entered her tent and then to nothing as she extinguished it. Bullshit if she really believed he was going to leave the off-the-table stuff alone. Hardin hadn’t come out to Colorado in search of evasion, half-truths, or more lies. He wanted the unvarnished facts no matter how uncomfortable or how painful. He’d seen her son—granted, from a distance. Mac was going to be pissed when she realized he knew more than she wanted him to and when it became clear just how determined he was to get her back.
The third day of hiking ended too quickly for Hardin. Most of the day he and Mac talked and laughed like they had in high school. But occasionally, during the breaks in conversation and more and more toward the end of the trip, he felt her erecting her guard again or disappearing deep within herself. They’d made some great headway, but he wasn’t anywhere close to being satisfied. Hardin had no intention of giving up.
These three days gave him hope. There was more than a spark between them. There had been moments that reinforced his belief. When Mac forgot to keep her emotional distance and beamed a smile at him before shuttering it. When her fingers brushed his as they passed his binoculars back and forth. When they had kissed.
Hardin had to be back for mandatory training in a few days. However, he had no desire to leave and planned on calling Arlo as soon as he got back to the inn. He’d direct his bulldog of an agent to negotiate more time with the team’s owners. He was staying longer in Piñon Ridge, and if he had to pay fines, so be it.
Hardin got some great photos of the shaggy white mountain goats, the pearl necklace of snow circling the majestic Wolves Peak, and of Mac when she wasn’t looking—refilling water and smiling beatifically while she explored the vibrant wildflowers, inhaled the fresh scent of pine, or absorbed the unsurpassed beauty around them. It was obvious she was in her element in the mountains. A few times they asked passing hikers to take photos of them in front of breathtaking backdrops, and he had relished the feel of her leaning against him, wholly relaxed, thankful no one had recognized him.
Chase was waiting for them at the Flag Creek trailhead—an area where a number of trails began—wearing a ball cap, his sunglasses hanging from a strap. He was with his SUV, its rear cargo door open, waiting on them to show.
Mac greeted him with a shoulder bump and a kiss on his cheek, placing her backpack in his outstretched hand. “Hey there,” she said, smiling, opening the passenger door and using the running board to get into the front seat.
“Welcome back. So, what’d you think?” he asked, directing the question to Hardin while taking his pack and putting it in the cargo area with Mac’s. “Back seat’s open.”
“Beautiful. Invigorating. I might have to make hiking a regular thing.”
Chase closed the cargo door and got into his seat, appearing to consider before asking, “They allow professional soccer players of your caliber to do stuff like the kind of hiking Kenna took you on?” He put the SUV in drive and entered a narrow road.
“Well, hiking isn’t specifically banned in my contract,” Hardin said, buckling his seat belt.
Mac pivoted in her seat and scowled at him. “Goddammit, Hardin. What if you’d torn something or suffered a career-ending accident?”
“Knock it off, Mac,” he said hotly. “I didn’t. My risk, not yours. I filled out all the forms and signed your waiver. You were protected.”
Her heated response matched his. “Was I? Chase brought up a good point. It makes me feel exposed. What about Intrepid? Shit. Your owners have more money and power than I can even comprehend.”
Discreetly, Chase shot Mac a sideways glance before returning his eyes to the road.
Hardin lowered his voice, hoping to deescalate Mac’s anger even though he was enjoying her eyes shooting daggers at him. “Nothing happened, and if it had, I would have taken responsibility. My decision. Leave it.”
“It could have,” she said before whipping back around in her seat.
“I signed the waiver. You did have an attorney draw it up for Intrepid Adventures, right?”
“Do you mistake me for being stupid?”
Hardin couldn’t help himself and snickered. “Stupid? Never. Stubborn? Yes. As hell. I’ve missed your fire.”
“Goddammit—”
“You two fight like an old married couple,” Chase interjected, sounding like he was stifling laughter. He signaled and turned onto the highway in the direction toward Piñon Ridge.
Mac gave Chase a scorching look.
“Ouch. That burned, boss.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
Hardin decided it was best to not say anything else and watched the scenery through his window, thinking about how he was going to move things forward with Mac.
Chase pulled up to the entry of the Urban and pulled Hardin’s gear from the cargo hold while he climbed out of the SUV. Mac’s farewell was a perfunctory “thank you for your business” and a handshake. Hardin fought to keep his expression neutral while his stomach churned with acid at being so dismissed. No. That wasn’t how they were going to part.
“Mac.” He lowered his sunglasses, smiled, and winked at her.
Her mouth dropped open and her brows rose in surprise, giving him the hope he needed, the confirmation that there was a chance. All he had to do was find a way in, a way to anchor himself in her life again before he left.
Hardin walked into the inn with a big grin, a plan beginning to take shape.
