Gorgeous. Fiery. Way more trouble than he needed on any given day.

“How long are you planning on standing here?”

Easton didn’t know, but he’d been out there for long enough; even his arms were starting to get sore. Finally, a familiar SUV drove past and performed a highly illegal U-turn, pulling right next to Easton. River stuck her head out from the passenger seat, her face lighting up as she took in him and his sign.

“No wonder no one stopped,” she said. “You look like you want to kill someone.”

“That’s resting Easton face.” Ash smirked at him. “He’s normally worse.”

He wasn’t speaking to either of them. Nope. Not a word.

“Hey, thanks for the help. Sorry we forgot to tell you we got the shot. Here, dinner is on us.” Leaning out the window, River tucked a twenty-dollar bill in his shirt collar, not giving Easton a chance to refuse before Bree, the driver, pulled away.

Ash lost it, leaning back against her Jeep, laughing so hard, her mascara started to run.

“If you could see your face,” she all but cried.

“I feel dirty,” he murmured, taking the twenty and stuffing it into his pocket.

“You are dirty.” Gasping for breath, she wiped her eyes. “I think I love her, whoever she is.”

The feeling wasn’t mutual.

With an annoyed grunt, Easton tossed the pizza box in the back of Ash’s Jeep. “Compost this, please.”

Since his services were no longer needed, Easton decided there was no reason to stand there any longer, giving his sister ammunition.

“You never saw this,” he warned her.

“Oh, everyone saw this.”

Which was so true. In a place like Moose Springs, memories were long. The town would never—ever—let Easton live this down.

“Destroy the evidence, Ash. If you love me, destroy the evidence.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” his twin teased. As he headed for his truck, she called after him. “I might frame it instead!”

• • •

River had to give them credit. Moose Springs was really good at being a total pain in the ass.

She’d been professional. She’d been nice. She’d even been accommodating. But what she refused to be was railroaded by a man and a sandwich.

It was time to play hardball with Officer Jonah.

“As I said before, I’m here to pick up my filming permits. And I’m not leaving until someone in this town can actually help me.” She was guessing he hadn’t heard her the first few times over the sound of mayo dripping down his chin.

Officer Jonah chewed on his hoagie for a while, chewed on it some more, and made a few thinking noises that left her wanting to stuff what was left of the sandwich in his face. Then he scratched the back of his head.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m pretty sure you have to go to the city hall for that.”

River braced her hands on her hips. “The city hall, huh?”

“Yep.”

“So you’re assuming I’m stupid.”

Intelligent eyes glanced at her, a man caught in the act of being sneaky.

“Go ahead,” she encouraged him. “Mansplain it for me. I couldn’t possibly have known that was the place to go to get a permit, but I’m sure glad you’re helpful enough to set me straight.”

River could hear her drawl coming out, dripping with sarcasm, and she didn’t bother to try to hide it. “Or I could save you some time and tell you that so far, myself and my people have spent countless hours on hold with a city hall that doesn’t actually exist.”

River continued in a firm voice. “Did you know that the address for the Moose Springs City Hall is very hard to find? Hard enough that I had to call the state government and stay on hold with them before somebody finally came up with the address to a barn on the far side of town, with weeds literally as tall as I am. But if you fight through the weeds, you find a sign on the door that says Be Back in Ten. Do you want to hazard a guess as to who came back in ten?”

The deputy policewoman one desk over shared an amused look with Officer Jonah. He wiped a thumb to the corner of his mouth. “No one?”

“No one, Officer Jonah. No one at all.”

Maybe—just maybe—River had made a career in acting because she had a flare for the dramatic. She let that hang between them, holding the policeman’s eyes.

“So I went to the DMV, who told me to go back to the city hall, because permits were only processed through the city hall. At which point I told the clerk I would immortalize them in film as the least helpful human being on the planet if they didn’t tell me something. So it was suggested I find a woman named Ashtyn Lockett, the keeper of all the permits.”

The deputy tried and failed to cover her laugh.

“Assuming I would get nothing but more runaround from the lovely locals in this town, I came here. Because who would know more than the local police about government type matters? Only there was a sign on your door saying you were getting a sandwich at Frankie’s. From what I can tell, there is no place called Frankie’s.”

“It’s a real nice restaurant.” He hefted what was left of his sandwich to show her. “Pastrami and provolone.”

“I’m sure it is. It’s also not listed on the internet, in the yellow pages, or on any of the buildings in Moose Springs. And everyone I asked either hadn’t heard of it or pretended they hadn’t heard me. Again, I was referred to Ashtyn Lockett. I assume she’s used to scare people.”

“Upon occasion,” he admitted.

Watching him chewing on his sandwich like a cow chewing its cud, River had to contain her natural inclination to rip the thing out of his mouth and cram it up his nostrils, one slice of pastrami at a time.

Instead, River drew herself up, steeled her spine, and said, “Officer Jonah. I am filming a documentary in the town of Moose Springs. I will be doing this whether or not I have the proper permits filed with the proper authorities. Because unlike the last film crews that tried to complete this assignment, I cannot be run off. So where is my permit?”

And that should have been that.

Only…well…it wasn’t.

“I’d check with city hall, ma’am. They’re in charge of all the permit type things.”

River wasn’t too dignified to scream.

Which of course was the exact moment Easton—in all his bearded, rugged glory—had to duck his head through the door. Her scream had been mighty, and his eyes widened. Easton looked back and forth between them, a familiar take-out container in his hand.