Free Finding Mr. Right Now by Meg Benjamin Page B

turned back to the driver. “Is Mr. Monteith’s garage anywhere nearby? We do need to pick up our suitcases from the car.”
    Denham shrugged. “Pretty much everything in Salt Box is nearby. Al’s garage is three or four blocks from Praeger House.”
    “Okay, thanks.” Monica moved to open the car door, but Denham beat her to it, sweeping the door open and bowing slightly. She wasn’t entirely sure whether he was mocking her, but she wasn’t inclined to argue. “Thanks again.”
    “You’re welcome.” He looked up at Ronnie. “Miss?”
    For a moment, Monica was afraid Ronnie might bolt. Her eyes widened as she stared at Denham. Then she apparently decided he wasn’t a serial killer after all. “It’s Ronnie,” she said, giving him one of her angel grins. “Ronnie Valero, actually.”
    Denham’s expression didn’t change. “Well, Miss Valero, please have a seat.”
    Ronnie’s smile dimmed perceptibly. Most of the people she’d met in the last few weeks recognized her.
    Monica scooted over to the far side of the car. “Come on in, Ronnie.”
    Ronnie took her seat, staring straight ahead. Billy Joe managed to beat Brendan into the car so that he was sitting next to her with Brendan on the far side. Denham put Faisal’s equipment bag in the trunk, then climbed into the driver’s seat while Faisal and Paul slid in beside him in front.
    Denham gave them an expression that approached a reluctant smile. “Well, folks, welcome to Salt Box. Hope you enjoy your stay, what there is of it.”
    Paul glanced around the car, then leaned one shoulder against the window. “Believe me, I’m already enjoying this. And I have a feeling the fun’s just beginning.”
    His brown curls drifted across his forehead, eyes dark in the afternoon sunlight. Monica’s pulse gave a quick thump.
    Fun should be the last thing on your mind.
    True, but right now it seemed to have moved up several places.

Chapter Seven
    Paul leaned back against the seat, watching the scenery go by. He couldn’t remember if his family had ever visited Salt Box when he was young, but the landscape around here did look vaguely familiar. Not that that meant anything. Most of the Rockies looked vaguely familiar to him by now. He knew they’d never skied Elkhorn. No way they could have afforded the lift tickets.
    The car simmered with that kind of uncomfortable silence that came from several people feeling miffed. Miffed was the right word too. Ronnie was definitely miffed. Monica would probably have to find a way to mollify her, although Paul wasn’t sure why she’d bother. In fact, he was amazed Monica had lasted as long as she had. He himself had been contemplating the pleasure of giving Ronnie a quick kick in the butt ever since they’d left Denver.
    The driver, Denham, slowed at an intersection where another highway branched off. The sign at the crossroads said “Salt Box, 1 mile.”
    “How far is the town from Elkhorn Run?” he asked.
    Denham shrugged. “Ten or twelve miles. We get a lot of the tourists who don’t want to pay the prices at the resort.”
    “Who do you get this time of year? Hikers and fishermen?”
    “And kayakers. And bikers. And people touring on motorcycles.” He turned again following the river. “We’re pretty much a year-round tourist attraction. In the winter the crowds are bigger, but most of the skiers stay at the resort. We get the snowboarders and cross country people and some snow-shoers. There’s a state park outside town with a lot of trails.”
    He took another turn, and they were suddenly staring up Main Street, Salt Box, Colorado. The town seemed to be laid out on a grid, the pattern of streets and alleys sandwiched between the river on one side and the towering peaks of the ski area on the other.
    A cluster of umbrella tables along Main marked a café. Paul could see shop windows on either side of the long, curving street, along with what looked to be a lot of bars. Side streets branched off with a