Page 18 of Waiting in Wyoming

“I’m sure we’ll find out,” Mac said. “Why does that guy have his hands on her like that? Is his hand on herass?”

Yes. It was.

Because Powell was stretched up, practically pressed against the man who was nearly the same size as Brandt. She was whispering in his ear, a look of concern on her face. Her hands were on Erickson, too.

Veryfamiliarly. That gave Brandt a moment of concern—Powell didn’t just touch men that easily. She’d always struggled with relationships—friendships and romantic relationships. Especially romantic relationships. They scared her, he’d always thought.

And there was something in the way Erickson was looking at her—Brandt just knew, in that moment, his sister and Erickson had slept together. He’d bet a million on it.

That was something he wasn’t going to think about ever again, actually.

Now, thinking about the various ways he could tear Erickson apart—even in his current condition—that was a different story. That was his only sister right there, after all.

But helikedErickson, even if Alex and Mac were going into overprotective baboon mode at the moment. The guy was up front and honest and compassionate. He’d seen that himself when Powell’s best friend had been shot on the job recently. He couldn’t see Erickson deliberately doing anything to hurt Powell, either. Or chasing after Brandt’s twin for the money she was amassing. Erickson wasn’t like that.

Then his sister was back. “I’m going up to my room. I am going to order room service, call mom, and then take a nice,long, hot bath. You three, behave. And keep an eye onhim,too. That man, he’s up to something. I just know it.”

“Why is he even here?” Mac asked, giving Erickson an appraising look that told Brandt he wasn’t too happy with the guy’s presence. Mac was even worse at the hovering-over-Powell thing than Brandt was. “What is he after?”

“He’s here as part of that drug taskforce thing. With the governor,” Powell said. They weren’t supposed to know about it, but they did. “He thought I was still at Houghton’s under guard. Now he isn’t happy that I am not. He thinks I should just hide behind protected walls while he catches bad guys. Behave. I’m going to bed.”

She tossed a look over her shoulder toward the big blond man at the counter, then took off. Practically at a run, one hand covering her stomach. Had Erickson actually scared her off or something?

First chance he had, he was going to have a talk with her. See if he could fix it. He’d been taking care of her forever—he never intended to stop.

13

Meyra was finishedwith her shift at the front desk now. It had been a surprise shift—they’d had a girl Braelyn call off, and someone had to cover the gap—and now she was ready to go to her room for a while. She had a list of recipes she was studying. She wanted to try some allergy-friendly desserts now that Brandt was here again. He couldn’t have eggs—it made it difficult to make her usual desserts.

Meyra was paying closer attention to possible cross-contamination, too. She’d created new rules for the kitchen and diner staff, just to be on the safe side.

She didn’t know many people with egg allergies, and she needed someone to taste-test for her. There was a chocolate three-layer cake she wanted to figure out soon. Then she’d test it in the dining room at the inn and label it as allergen-friendly. It used vinegar and baking soda as the leavening agent, but she wanted to play with the chocolate ratio, too. Meyra would try it tomorrow and give him some. It did contain wheat flour. She was going to try a gluten-free version later, too.

She thought he deserved chocolate cake after what he’d been through.

She stepped into the elevator just as Brandt’s sister almost ran in. She hit the button to close the door quickly and looked at Meyra. “I probably should have taken the stairs, but well…I figured the doors would shut before he got here. Since he had his bag and everything.”

Meyra just blinked at her. Whichhewas she referring to? “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“Just playing Avoiding the Viking, really.” She grinned with Brandt’s smile. “It’s a game we’ve been playing for a few weeks now. Gunnar will probably catch me eventually. He…always has before, anyway.”

Gunnar. That was Gunnar Erickson, the beautiful blond man she had checked in just before ending her shift. He was her cousin Charlotte’s good friend. Brandt’s sister was playing games with him? Why?

It took Meyra a moment to figure it out. “Are you two involved?”

“Well…isn’t that the million-dollar question? I have yet to figure out just what exactly I am doing with that man going forward.” She had her hand over her stomach like she felt sick or something. “For now…I am going to bed. I am exhausted. And, well I have total brother overload. It’s a real thing, a real thing.”

Brandt’s sister was a little weird, no denying that.

Meyra just told her good night and then headed to the entrance of the family wing. She’d wanted to see Brandt, but with his brothers there? Talk about intimidating. They were the kind of men who had always been very, very overwhelming. She’d done her time in the inn—now it was time to retreat.

The inn was reallyquiet when she made her way back down the next morning. She liked that time of day best. She’d make sure everything was prepped for the rest of the day. Then she would head over to the diner and do the same there. She’d work a few hours in both places. Then her sisters or cousins would tell her where they needed her next. It was her flex day. That meant she worked wherever. She was good with that—her family made it easy for her to keep to her routine. She knew how blessed she was with the family she had been given.

She had an easy life here at the inn. Meyra appreciated that every day.

She spent almost six hours at the inn, with only an hour at the diner. Daisy had been hiding out in the diner, she’d said and had chased Meyra away. Meyra wasn’t exactly certain why Daisy had been hiding out in the diner—something about a man from Daisy’s church being problematic, but Daisy hadn’t gone into detail.

She hadn’t even told Meyra who the guy was, either. Of course, Meyra hadn’t asked. Privacy mattered when so many women lived together, after all. That was the family rule, too.