“Sasquatch.”

“Yeti.”

“Bigfoot.”

“Yowie. Yowie is definitely my favorite. It’s got a little something the other names are lacking, don’t you think? Pizzazz.”

Elena pressed herself against the wall of the lodge, her eyes closed. She wished it was as easy to shut her ears, but that was a skill she hadn’t yet mastered. At least, not without pillows over her head or her iPod turned on high.

“What do you think, Elena?” Ace called from across the lodge. “Which name do you prefer to call him?”

She shook her head but doubted they saw her. Even though the lodge was better lit than the cabin, it was still dark over here in her corner. She normally disliked dark spaces, but this one felt comfortable. Mostly because it was as far away from the maps and photos spread out over the dining room table as possible.

“Figment of their collective imagination,” Max announced from right beside her. Normally, a man’s sudden voice at her ear would have her jumping in her skin, but not that man and not that voice. “It’s okay, Elena. There’s no such thing as Bigfoot. I promise. They’re delusional. Ace has always been a man of highly unstable character.”

Her only response was to shake her head again. She’d been prepared for all kinds of monsters and creatures out here in the wild. Wolves, cougars, black widows nesting in the warm comfort of the cabin…she’d meticulously researched each one. She didn’t love the idea of bedding down with spiders, but she was prepared for it. In fact, she’d learned that victims have hours in which to get to the hospital for black widow anti-venom treatment, and even then, chances of death were low. Getting bit would hurt, but she’d live.

Bigfoot, however?

“He’s scamming these people,” Max continued in a low, soothing tone meant for her ears only. “Taking them for a ride. I’ve known Ace for almost twenty years, and this is the first time I’ve ever heard him even mention the word Yowie. I bet he didn’t even know that was one of Bigfoot’s names until last week.”

Elena didn’t know if it was Max’s proximity or his words, but she managed to turn her face toward him. He was much closer than she’d realized, his face mere inches from her own. In any other situation, she’d have passed out from the ecstasy of it—bodies pressed together, lips within touching distance, the flutter of his eyelashes so near hers.

In this situation, however…

“They had pictures,” she said. “On the table over there. Pictures of Bigfoot and a map of this park and lots of pushpins in the area where we’re staying. I know what pushpins mean.”

She felt Max’s laugh before she heard it. “Yeah, me too. It means Ace has seen too many cop movies. He’s acting like he’s hunting a serial killer, not a mythological beast. Now, will you please come back and join the rest of us?”

She was back to shaking her head again. In all fairness, it did look like the party was having fun, Ace and Tina and the three Bigfoot hunters gathered around the coffee table playing Monopoly, but she didn’t feel like making deals for Park Place right now. She mostly just wanted to go home.

She’d done it. She’d tried. For Tina’s sake and Max’s sake and, above all else, her own sake, she’d made the attempt to come out here, anxieties be damned. And she’d failed. That was all there was to it.

On a rational level, she knew Bigfoot wasn’t real. Not even her foolish, illogical fears would take her that far into the realm of fantasy. But she understood the world enough to recognize that smoke rarely billowed without a fire. Those pushpins might not indicate the location of a centuries-old myth come to life in the state of Washington, but they most likely suggested a sighting of something.

Bears, most likely. Huge, hungry, angry bears.

“I don’t like this,” she said, her voice wavering.

She expected Max to get annoyed with her, but all he did was take her hand in his. He didn’t entwine their fingers together in a romantic way or anything, but he did give her fingers a squeeze. And then he kept his hand there, the warm presence of him a palpable, physical thing.

“Do you trust me, Elena?” he asked.

She nodded, but the movement was so slight he must not have registered it, because he lifted a finger to her chin and turned her head so it faced him.

“Do you trust me, Elena?” he asked again, his voice lower this time.

“Yes,” she managed. How could she do anything else—with him so near, holding her hand, comforting her? If she wasn’t so terrified, she’d be over the moon at this new turn of events. For the first time in a long time, Max was treating her like an actual human being, one with hands and feelings and everything.

“Good girl.” He smiled with a soft upturn of his lips. “Then you know that I’d never do anything to jeopardize my daughter’s life.”

Her feelings began to deflate.

“I would never put her in a position where I felt she was in danger, which means I’d never put you in that position, either. I’m responsible for the pair of you while we’re out here. If I thought for one second that either of you might get hurt, I’d pack you up and haul you out of here the first chance I got.”

He let go of her hand then, taking all his comfort with him. Not that there was much of it left by this point. Max was treating her like a child again, lumping her with Tina and highlighting his role as the adult to them both. And she couldn’t even blame him for it, because she was acting like a child, scared of monsters and things that went bump in the night.

She could have cried in frustration at the unfairness of it all. Here she was, desperate to prove to this man that despite the difference in their ages, she was a fully functioning adult woman who wanted to do all the things that fully functioning adult women did with the men they not-so-secretly loved.

But all she could do was stand here and spin nightmares out of thin air while a seven-year-old child happily chattered away about all the different lures they might use to draw Bigfoot out.

“Do you think you can go back over there and hang out with Ace and his new friends, or do you want us to head back to the cabin for the night?” Max asked. His question—framed, she was sure, to put her at ease—only made her feel worse. To give in to her weaknesses now would only ruin the evening for everyone else.

Always, always, it came down to the same choice: her comfort or everyone else’s happiness. That was what she hated most about her anxieties. No matter how hard she searched, she was never able to find a place where those two things intersected. More importantly, she’d never found a person willing to join her there.

“I’m sorry for overreacting.” She sucked in her quivering lip and forced her head high. It was, after all, the only thing she could do. “I’m fine now. I don’t want to spoil everyone’s evening.”

Max’s eyes didn’t stop searching hers. “Are you sure?”

No. She wasn’t sure—not even a little, not even enough to swallow without a wave of nausea overtaking her. But she’d be damned if she’d ruin this opportunity to prove to Max that she could be as strong as him, that she was worth meeting on common ground.

She could, even if it killed her. Which, given the size of the creature in the Bigfoot photos, seemed a distinct possibility.

“Of course I’m sure,” she reassured him, and even managed a smile—especially when he returned it with one of his own. “You’re absolutely right. I trust you to keep me safe. You’re strong, a protector. It’s one of my favorite things about you, actually.”

His smile couldn’t drop fast enough after that.

She could have cursed herself for being so clumsy. Although she hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true—or that he didn’t already know—reminding him was always a bad idea. Especially when he’d been holding her hand mere seconds before.

“I’m sorry, you guys,” she said brightly as she approached the group gathered around the Monopoly board. She didn’t check to see if Max was following. He would eventually. The lodge wasn’t so big he could stay away from her forever. “I saw the Bigfoot paraphernalia and spiraled. I didn’t mean to make it into a thing.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said the woman in the group, a slight, short-haired brunette with a nicely crooked smile. She’d been introduced as George, a task that had taken some explaining, since the oversized man next to her—her husband—was also named George.

Elena had been unable to stop herself from wondering if that was weird in the bedroom—calling out what was essentially your own name. Oh, George. Yes, George. Harder, George. Fortunately, she hadn’t asked out loud. Max was probably embarrassed by her enough as it was.

“We’re used to all kinds of reactions when we tell people we hunt Bigfoot,” female George added. “At least you didn’t laugh. Most people laugh.”

“I would never,” Elena said and meant it. There were too many strange—and dangerous—things in this world to mock any of it. “In fact, I think what you’re doing is amazing. I had no idea people actively hunted Bigfoot in this area.”

“Well, why should you?” the older man demanded. Wilcox, his name was, and Elena could already tell that she was going to adore him. Like her, he seemed to speak exactly what was on his mind. “Do you know what kind of fish they catch in Tahiti?”

“Um, trout?”

“Of course not.” He barked a laugh. “But why should you know that, either? Until you do a thing, you can’t know about it, can you?”

“Well, I don’t know if I agree with that,” Elena said. With an almost apologetic air, she added, “I don’t do very many things. If I only knew about activities I have firsthand experience with, even Tina here would have me beat.”

Wilcox blinked at her, almost as if disbelieving his ears.

“This is the part where I confess that I’m scared of everything. I don’t get out into the world much.”

“What do you mean by everything?” Ace asked, looking up from his fistfuls of orange cash.

Since all the seats were taken, she gently lifted Tina and took her place, waiting until the girl was settled in her lap before saying, “Name an object. Any object.”

Of all the people gathered in the lodge, Ace was the one who interested her the most. She knew of him, of course, having heard Tina extoll the virtues of her honorary uncle too many times to count. To hear Tina tell the tale, he was everything hilarious and fun-loving. Max usually shook his head ruefully and said it was a good thing that half of what Ace said went over her head. Elena wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting the man to look like, but this grizzled, graying man in dreadlocks, cargo shorts, and a frayed Led Zeppelin shirt wasn’t it. He looked like the grown-up version of a Lost Boy.

“A log cabin,” he said, going for the obvious.

She held up a hand and started ticking fingers off. “Fire hazard. Older construction with the possibility of asbestos products in the insulation and plumbing. And speaking of plumbing, lead pipes.” She didn’t pause, the various dangers surrounding them fairly tripping off her tongue. “Infestations of rodents and/or insects. Faulty wiring. Poor foundation and construction that isn’t up to modern safety codes. Landslides. Termites. Nails poking out of walls and their accompanying tetanus injections.”

Ace let out a low whistle. “Damn, honey. Have you ever considered working as an insurance salesman?”

Gratefulness flooded through her at Ace’s easy smile and flippant air. It would have been easy for him to be scornful or belittle her fears, but he didn’t. In fact, none of them did. Both Georges and Wilcox listened politely, nodding every so often to show they understood.

“You know, I’ve never thought about it before,” she replied and gave Tina a squeeze before the little girl hopped off her lap to concentrate more closely on the game. She was putting her long sleeves to good use and shoving spare cash up there every chance she got. Since the adults were only putting in a halfhearted show of playing along, her chances were many. “But it’s nice to know I have something to fall back on if this whole child psychology thing doesn’t work out.”

From there, talk led naturally to school and her upcoming case worker position—both relatively safe topics of conversation. She would have said they were completely safe topics, but the Bigfoot paraphernalia was always within sight. There was also the small matter of Max sitting across the table, listening intently as she discussed her future plans. It was almost as though it had never occurred to him that she might cease to be his daughter’s caregiver someday.

Did he think she was going to be a babysitter forever? That she was trapped in the body of a twenty-four-year-old and would never age?

“I am curious about one thing, though,” Ace said before she could make the mistake of asking either of those questions out loud. “If you’re so scared of everything, what the hell are you doing in a backwoods outpost like this?”

A warning rumble from Max’s side of the table drew their attention, but Ace kept going. “I mean, it doesn’t get much more isolated than this. Wouldn’t you have been better off staying in town?”

“Absolutely,” Elena said.

“But?” Ace prodded.

The answer, however embarrassing, was simple. “Max needed me.”

Max’s rumble turned into a full-blown cough, which ended up being the worst thing he could have done if discretion was on his mind. Ace took one look at Elena’s slightly flushed skin and another at Max’s definitely flushed skin and put the pieces together.

“Well, shit on a stick,” he said, cracking with laughter. He pointed an accusatory finger at Max. “You told me she was too young and hot for you.”

“She is,” Max said, the words slipping out from between clenched teeth.

Ace looked back and forth between them. “Then why—?”

Max turned to Tina with a smile, cutting Ace off before he could continue this interesting topic. “Peanut, why don’t you see if you can fish out the marshmallows from Elena’s bag? I bet Uncle Ace will let you toast some in his fireplace.”

“I love toasted marshmallows,” the female George said. “I’ll help you.”

Elena, feeling like even more of a failure for not attending to her nanny duties, made a motion to rise and join them. She was cut short by Ace, who flung out a hand before she could get halfway to her feet.

“Oh, hell no,” he said. “This is too good to pass up. Keep your ass in that chair. Even hot young nannies deserve a break every now and then.”

She flushed. Had Max really said that about her? Recently?

“It’s not like that,” she protested.

“No?” One of Ace’s bushy brows rose. He glanced over his shoulder to where the male George and Wilcox sat discussing the merits of leg traps for catching large prey. Dropping his voice a little, he added, “Then tell me what it is like. In explicit detail. I haven’t had a date in months.”

Elena laughed obligingly, but Max only glowered. A more rational woman would back off at this juncture, defusing the situation by changing the topic to something—anything—other than her romantic yearnings. For good or for bad, however, Elena wasn’t a rational woman. Her entire life was one long, fearmongering lack of impulse control.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she said with a rueful smile and a quick glance at Max. He sat like a stone statue, hands clutching the armrests of his chair as if holding on for dear life. The man honestly believed she was going to do something outrageous like perform a striptease right here in the middle of a log cabin. “I’m just the nanny. I take care of Tina. Sometimes I make grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Bullshit.” Ace sat back and steepled his fingers. “I’ve never seen Max turn that color before. He’s almost purple. What did you do to him?”

It seemed wise to give her beloved an out. She searched for a tactful approach and settled on “Well, I might have confessed to him once that I have a…thing for older men. He’s been uncomfortable around me ever since.”

“Older men, eh? I like where this is headed. Go on.”

Elena had to laugh. She was beginning to see why Ace held such a prominent place in Max’s life. He had a perverse kind of charm. “I don’t mean I fetishize wrinkles or anything like that, but there’s something about a man who’s been about the world a little, you know? He knows where he fits and he’s not afraid to be himself. He has a confidence that has nothing to do with looks or money, but that’s based on life experience. I don’t care how old you are—that’s attractive.”

Almost without being aware of it, Max had lowered his guard. He sat slightly hunched, his elbows on his knees, drawn into her confession with an almost rapt expression on his handsome face. See? she wanted to say. I’m not just an infatuated fool. I know what I like. I know what I want.

“I’m not going to disagree with that.” Ace thumped his chest. “This right here is one hundred percent life experience.”

Something about Ace’s easy acceptance caused Elena to lapse even further into confession. “My sisters and I call it the Stephen Colbert effect,” she admitted. “Any time I see that man on TV, I can’t help thinking how much fun he would be to have as a dad. He’s just so adorable and smart. But then I also think I wouldn’t mind him bending me over a table every now and then, you know?”

Max’s elbows slipped. He would have toppled all the way out of his chair if Ace’s sudden guffaw hadn’t drawn the attention of everyone in the lodge, including Tina and female George. With his daughter’s eyes on him and a question on the lips of everyone else, he had no choice but to get a firm grip on himself.

Which he did by avoiding any and all eye contact with her.

She bit back a sigh. There was classic Elena again, letting her tongue run away with her, horrifying the masses with her inability to play it cool. Of course Max didn’t want to hear about her perverse sexual longings for late-night TV show hosts. He didn’t even want to hear about her perverse sexual longings for him.

She hadn’t been kidding about getting bent over a table, though. By Stephen Colbert or Max Stafford. A man who could be considerate, caring, kind…and who could take charge and defile you in all the best ways?

That was what life was all about.

Max took one of Tina’s marshmallows between sticky fingers and blew on it, still carefully avoiding Elena’s gaze. “Thank you, Peanut. How many of these did you eat?”

“Twenty-seven,” she announced.

Elena laughed at the new look of horror that crossed Max’s face. Between the two of them, they were going to put the poor man in an early grave. “Oh, dear,” she told the little girl. “That is the second worst thing your father has heard tonight.”

Naturally, Tina had to ask. “What’s the first worst, Daddy?”

Elena paused to hear what Max would say. Now he finally glanced at her, his face carrying a dazed look. He wasn’t angry, as she’d expected, and he wasn’t horrified either. In fact, he looked as though he’d been shaken out of a deep sleep—one he’d enjoyed, and one he’d never be able to get back. Like Rip van Winkle being thrust, unwilling, into awareness.

“Elena’s teasing you,” he said. “I didn’t hear anything bad. Just something…new.”

A thrill of excitement tickled down her spine. New? New was good. New was interesting. New was something she could work with.

“Well, I’m about to tell you something bad,” Ace called from one of the big picture windows. “Sorry, Elena, but you’re not going to like this.”

In a burst of panic, Elena thought for a moment the impossible had happened, Bigfoot himself making an appearance to murder them all before dinner. But Tina, sensing excitement, ran to the window and shouted, “Look, Daddy! It’s snowing! A blizzard!”

Next to Bigfoot and bears, blizzard was the other B-word Elena feared the most. As much as she wanted to continue this new conversation with Max, panic took precedence over all else. She jumped up and joined her charge at the window.

Sure enough, snow was coming down—fat, heavy flakes that obscured her vision and set her heart racing.

She’d seen snow before, of course. One couldn’t spend twenty-four years in Spokane without the requisite winter storms that would sometimes bury cars and shut down public transportation systems. But there was a big difference between city snow and mountain snow. City snow was safe, the nearest hospital or fire station always a few blocks away. This stuff, however? It was huge and it was coming down fast. And the way the wind whistled as it hit the windowpane wasn’t doing much to make her feel any better. Horizontal snow was always worse than the vertical kind.

Max joined them where they stood, his body warm at Elena’s back. Unfortunately, she couldn’t appreciate his nearness or the way his head popped above hers to peer out at the gathering storm. “It sure is, Peanut,” he said, his voice low and, Elena was sure, meant to be soothing. “The weather advisory said we were in for several feet over the next few days. I guess it decided to start early.”

“Several feet?” Elena echoed.

A tiny hand slipped into hers. Oddly enough, Elena found comfort in it. “Are you scared, Elena?” Tina asked.

There was no use denying it. “Yes.”

“Of the snow or of Bigfoot?” the child continued with unnerving sapience.

“Both, really. But the snow is probably winning right now.” She twisted her head to peer up at Max. “It’s a totally normal amount, right? Nothing to panic about?”

He didn’t hold her hand like Tina did, but he didn’t back away, either. He was just there, a comforting presence when she needed it most.

It was exactly what she’d been talking about before—the way a man could be paternal and protective one moment, and then insanely hot and virile the next. A provider. A caregiver. A fearless sex god who would always treat her with kindness. In other words, anything and everything she’d ever wanted out of a man.

She wasn’t the weird one here, dammit. Every woman who’d ever met Max Stafford and hadn’t immediately lost her heart to him was.

“Totally normal,” he promised. “But I imagine you’d like to get back to the cabin sooner rather than later. I’ll ask Ace to pack up our dinner to go while you get the coats.”

Gratitude caught in Elena’s throat. So did an overwhelming feeling of desire that threatened to topple her, more hazardous than any blizzard wind. Despite her crazed, embarrassing confessions, Max wasn’t dismissing her or her fears…yet.

But as she went to grab their coats, which hung, still damp, in one of the bunk rooms, she heard the whistling sound of the wind picking up and had to fight a sense of panic that threatened to nail her feet to the floor. Two weeks with Max was a gift. Two weeks with Max was an opportunity.

She just had to manage to stay in place during a blizzard while it happened.