Free Pistol: A Stepbrother Romance by Autumn Gunn Page B

Out of the ordinary.  There could only be one place.  Deer Creek.
     
                  We picked up W. Deer Creek Canyon road less than a mile south of C-470 on Denver's southwest side.  We headed west about six miles onto Deer Creek Road before becoming Pleasant Park Road.
     
                  Math homework girl didn't say anything.  I could see in my mirrors that she was taking in the view.  Steep rocky valleys below and huge rock walls above.
     
                  I went slow through the tight turns.  I had to.  I promised to be safe.  Plus it allowed her to take in the fresh mountain air and take in the engulfing views with the helmut visor up.
     
                  These curvy roads were smooth and perfectly paved.  We came out of one turn and I felt her lean slightly to my right side.

              "It's really curvy.  The view is beautiful.  It smells so good."
     
                  "Just like you."
     
                  She leaned back to her original position.  I looked in my mirrors.  I could see her holding a smile.
     
                  Higher up on Pleasant Park Road we stopped to take in a distant view of the Rockies.
     
                  We sat down on a big rock.  I took the granola bar out of my riding jacket and offered it to her.
     
                  "Thank you.  Do you want some?"
     
                  "No thanks."
     
                  She broke off a piece and placed it in her palm.  A family of squirrels hurried over.  Stopping just short of a possible meal.  They looked at her then didn't hesitate.  The mother squirrel reached into her hand and took the piece of granola bar.  She scurried about six inches back to her small children and distributed the meal.  She quickly came back for seconds.  Then thirds.  Eventually the entire bar was gone.  The squirrels made some sort of thank you noise and took off back into the hills.  We broke the peaceful silence with a laugh.
     
                  "Have you been here before?"
     
                  "No," she said.  "My dad just bought some land here.  We're new to town."
     
                  "What do you think so far?"
     
                  "Well.  Today is definitely off to an interesting start.  Do you normally spend your Tuesdays rescuing girls and then whisking them away on your white horse?"
     
                  "No.  I usually save that for Thursdays.  On Tuesdays I rescue kittens from trees and help grandmas safely cross the street.  But you should really see me on Mondays."
     
                  She smirked.  "What happens on Mondays?"
     
                  I rescue families from burning buildings, fight government corruption, restock the streams with trout, and ride my white horse through the nightlife district collecting all the trash from the weekend that's recyclable and taking it to the recycle center.  Of course I donate the money from the recyclables to my real passion.  Big Brothers and Big Sisters of Colorado."
     
                  "Something tells me that might not all be entirely true."
     
                  "Why do you say so?"
     
                  "I volunteer at Big Brothers and Big Sisters."
     
                  "Wow.  Really?"
     
                  "Yeah.  My father was an orphan.  He told me how one of the guys in his town taught him how to do things when he was growing up.  How to become a strong man, but also caring and compassionate."
     
                  "That's really cool."
     
                  "Thanks.  Yeah, it really made an enormous difference in his life.  Especially as a young man in that position.  Sometimes boys under those circumstances can lash out in frustration, anger, or other emotions which can be