Unforgettable You (The Lindstroms Book 6)
UNFORGETTABLE YOU
The Lindstroms #6
New York Times Bestselling Author
Katy Regnery
writing as
Katy Paige
UNFORGETTABLE YOU
Copyright © 2020 by Katharine Gilliam Regnery
Sale of the electronic edition of this book is wholly unauthorized. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part, by any means, is forbidden without written permission from the author/publisher.
Katharine Gilliam Regnery, publisher
This book is a work of fiction. Most names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any references to real people or places are used fictitiously.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Please visit my website at www.katyregnery.com
Cover Designer: Marianne Nowicki
Editing: Ellie McLove
Formatting: CookieLynn Publishing Services
First Edition: October 2020
Unforgettable You: a novel / by Katy Paige—1st Ed.
ISBN: 978-1-944810-72-6
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
EPILOGUE
ALSO AVAILABLE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
For real-life Summer.
Because she fought
and she won.
xoxo
Chapter 1
May Day
Maggie Campbell was drunk.
She was good and drunk and having a damn good time, but a frustratingly difficult time keeping her balance. The revelers from the annual Gardiner May Day celebration had somehow ended up at the Blue Moon Raccoon Saloon when the rain started pelting them from every direction. Everyone who’d been listening to the band on the high school football field had run for cover, and a sizable crowd had amassed at the local suds purveyor. After a few hours at the bar, Maggie and her friend Paul Johansson were definitely the worse for wear.
“Maggie, give us another toast!” demanded Maurice Evans, beer held high over his head, shaking in his unstable grip to shower him lightly with sloshes.
Likely owing to the fact that drunken Maggie had a strong, cheerful brogue and a cache of ribald toasts bestowed upon her young ears by her often-drunk Scottish father, she’d become a crowd favorite and they unplugged the jukebox every thirty moments or so to request another celebratory cheers. Of course, this meant that twice an hour, Maggie chugged a beer, the effects of which were affecting her aforementioned balance.
Maggie put her hand on her friend Paul’s shoulder, bracing on the foot rung of the barstool, and held up her own full beer with her other hand. The crowd grew still as all eyes turned to look at the precariously-balanced redhead.
“May there always be work for your hands to do.
May your purse always hold a coin or two.”
She turned toward the door and then grinned back at the crowd.
“May the sun always shine upon your window pane…”
They chuckled with approval as she added,
“May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near to you and
May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.”
She beamed at the crowd, licking her lips as her beer teetered in her wobbly grasp and added with flair, “Alba gu brath!”
The crowd roared in approval, clinking their glasses together and chugging down their beers, none the wiser that they were all drinking to Scotland’s long life. The jukebox was plugged in again and the raucous fiddles of Mumford & Sons thundered over the cheering of the crowd.
That’s precisely the time the room started to spin.
Even Paul didn’t notice as Maggie began to lose her balance, swaying as she finished her beer and lowering the hand that held the glass. Maggie closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the swirling start. Knowing she was likely to fall, she let her muscles go to jelly to lessen the impact. She certainly didn’t have enough strength to stop herself.
She heard the screech of the stool’s wooden legs as it skittered a short way across the floor and heard the hard clunk of her empty pint glass hitting the wooden bar. She looked down, as though in slow motion, to see Paul’s horrified eyes, his arm flailing upward to grab her before she fell backward.
And then suddenly, a hard, warm wall slammed into her back and strong arms encircled her body. She let her head fall back until it rested on the flannel shelf of a shoulder, and she heard his voice, soft and urgent in her ear growl:
“I’ve got you, Maggie May.”
His breath on her skin made her eyes flutter closed as she leaned back into him. When her feet hit the floor, he reached for the bar in front of them, caging her between his chest and the bar.
“You okay?”
His lips were so close to her ear, she trembled lightly, catching her breath. Every time he inhaled, his chest pushed into her back, which made it impossible to concentrate on anything else.
“Mags?”
The concern in his voice deserved an answer, so she took a deep, ragged breath and turned around, looking up to find familiar light blue eyes searching hers with worry.
Nils Lindstrom.
Over six feet tall and built like a lumberjack, Nils towered over her. He wore a plaid flannel shirt over a white T-shirt, both tucked into standard Levis that were a touch too tight in the front, showing a bulge along the inseam of his right thigh.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and her shoulders slumped with the wave of longing that crashed over her. Nils Lindstrom was one of her circle of friends, but—unbeknownst to him—he’d also pretty much owned her heart for the past four years.
He hooked a finger under her chin and drew her eyes up. “You going to be sick?”
She stared up at him, wishing for the thousandth time that he could see her as more than a friend.
Of course he would have been somewhere in the bar watching her make a fool of herself standing on barstools and yelling toasts in Gaelic. She reached up to wipe her lips with the back of her hand, feeling her already flaming cheeks heat up like a pagan bonfire. She was drunk, she’d almost face-planted into the bar floor, and now he was making sure she wouldn’t vomit all over him.
Oh, for the love of—could she never, ever catch a break with this man?
“I’m fine,” she said tightly, her accent more pronounced in her ears than usual. She turned her neck to her left to detach her chin from his finger.
Her friend Paul grinned at her sheepishly over Nils’s arm. “Sorry I didn’t catch you in time, Mags.”
Maggie grinned at her drinking buddy. “No harm done.”
“Could’ve been harm done.” Nils’s voice was thick with censure. When Maggie looked up at him, he was eyeing Paul with annoyance.
Paul Johansson was the best friend of Nils’s younger brother, Lars.
“Wasn’t Paul’s fault if I chose to get up on a barstool and act like a drunkard.”
She gestured to
the bartender for another beer.
“Another, Maggie?” he confirmed.
“Lots of anothers,” she answered, annoyed her words sounded so jumbled. Not that she minded, really, but she wondered how long Nils planned to keep her imprisoned between his arms. Must have been the beer that prompted her to ask him, “So, how long are ye’ trappin’ me here, Nils? Keen to babysit me t’night, are ye?”
His blue eyes captured hers, searching and intense, narrowing at her tone. “A thank-you wouldn’t be remiss, Maggie May.”
Maggie couldn’t explain why his words got her back up, but they did. She didn’t want to thank him for saving her. She wanted him to see her as a woman, as more than just a friend. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to take her back to his place or over to hers and tear her clothes off. Preferably with his teeth.
“Thaaanks,” she said slowly, licking her lips in a way she hoped was seductive, but they were so dry she re-licked them a few more times before catching herself. From the gaping look on his face, she was pretty sure she’d somehow managed to look more like a lizard than a femme fatale.
Nils stared at her lips for a moment then flicked his eyes to hers. His nostrils flared and his jaw pulsed once, twice, before he dropped his arms and turned to Paul. “Do a better job looking out for her.”
Then he turned on his heel without another word, parting the crowd as he headed out of the bar.
***
Damn Maggie anyway.
She was going to get herself hurt if she kept carrying on that way. Well, she could just be Paul’s problem for the rest of tonight. The last thing Nils needed in his life was a woman who took too many stupid risks. No matter how he felt about her.
The cold rain pelted Nils’s face and the mountain air felt heavy in his lungs as he took a deep breath, his beat-up cowboy boots sloshing through the mixture of mud and puddle water as his long strides took him farther away from the bar where Maggie was making a spectacle of herself. He turned up the collar of his Shetland jacket as the rain slicked his blond hair to his head.
He pumped his fingers into fists repeatedly, trying to erase the imprint of Maggie’s tummy when her sweater rode up as he caught her. He couldn’t. He could still feel it. It felt like perfect, if perfect could be defined by soft, pliant, warm skin pressed intimately against his palm.
Abruptly he turned left, back toward town, away from the house he shared with Lars, toward Main Street, where the office of Lindstrom & Sons would be dark and empty. Maybe Nils could find some paperwork to do; the way his body felt, all charged up and hot, meant sleep would be elusive for a few hours at least.
And yes, damn it, from his office he could watch as Paul helped her stumble home in an hour or so. Nils could make sure she got home safely. Maggie’s Prairie Dawn Café and Bookstore, where she lived in an apartment on the second floor, was just a few doors down.
His phone rang in his back pocket as he crossed the bridge over the Yellowstone River, and he looked down at it. Jenny. His little sister.
“Heya, Jen,” he said, still walking at a brisk pace.
“Heya, Nils!”
He smiled at the sunshine in her voice. A couple of years ago, Sam Kelley, a businessman from Chicago had spent a weekend in Gardiner, falling in love with his sister. She and Sam lived in Great Falls now, but he saw them—and their daughter, Erin—often.
“Why aren’t you out with Paul and Maggie?” she asked.
“For someone who moved outta this town, you sure keep up with what’s going on. Doesn’t Sam keep you busy enough?”
“You’re always such a grouch. Thought maybe you’d treat May Day like New Year’s and move in for a kiss at midnight.”
“Aw, Jen. Paul’s not really my type.”
His sister bellowed with laughter, and Nils—who’d felt annoyed a moment ago—joined her. Of all his siblings, Jenny was the biggest tease, and since she’d married Sam, she’d only gotten worse, blossoming into a right sassy thing.
“Let’s hope he’s not Maggie’s type either,” she said, all smart-mouthed.
“I think we all know who Paul’s type is,” returned Nils, reminding Jenny of how she’d had to turn down Paul’s advances once upon a time.
“Whew! Truce!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah, okay.” Nils chuckled softly. She was a pain in the ass, but she was his only sister and he adored her. “Why are you bothering me anyway?”
“Like you have so many more pressing things to do. Bet you’re in the office doing paperwork.”
Nils unlocked the door of the dark office. He hadn’t actually started the paperwork yet. “Nope. You’re wrong. Was just over at the Blue Moon.”
“Looking for a date? Hmmm. Maybe, um, Missy Branson can fit you in. Didn’t you visit with her a time or two?”
Nils sighed. Missy Branson, who used to be Gardiner’s resident good-time girl, hadn’t worked at the Blue Moon for over a year. Though, to his embarrassment, Jenny was right—he and Missy had “gotten together” on occasion to scratch a mutual itch.
Damn Jenny’s memory, that was years ago!
“So someone doesn’t know everything, huh? Missy got married and moved to Billings year before last. Right after you. Has a little’un now. Looked happy the last time I saw her, back visiting her mama.”
“Oh.” Jenny was surprised enough to sound humble. “Oh, well. That’s nice. Someone for everyone, I guess.”
Except me, thought Nils. That ship sailed a long, long time ago.
“Still haven’t told me why you’re bothering me, lillesøster.”
“It’s Pappa’s sixtieth birthday on June thirtieth. I want to have a big party. Whole family. Lots of friends. Smorgasbord. Like Mamma would’ve done for him.”
“That’s nice, Jen.” Nils hung his coat on the coat rack to the left of the doorway and flicked on the lights of the small office. Being the oldest, he felt a passing sense of guilt, like he should have been more on top of this. Truthfully, he hadn’t even realized such an important milestone birthday was coming up. “We’d all come up there to you?”
“No. Pappa’s home is Gardiner. I think we should have it there. And I already talked to Maggie. She said we could use the Prairie. What do you think?”
The Prairie Dawn was a great location for the party. Just like Maggie, it was a warm, unexpected spot in a western-style town that mostly catered to Yellowstone tourists, fishermen and hunters. With its copper bar, soft lighting, mismatched tables, and comfortable, shabby couches, it was a favorite Lindstrom hangout. The locals loved it and Maggie’s coffee was the best to be found between Livingston and Jackson Hole.
“You mean, like, rent it out for a night?”
“Yeah,” said Jenny. “We can all pitch in to pay for it, of course. I already talked to Erik and he said he and Kat will contribute and come down from Kalispell for a long weekend to celebrate. And since you and Lars live local, you can help Maggie.”
Wait a minute. What? While Nils often found himself at the Prairie Dawn, drinking a cup of coffee or enjoying a muffin, he studiously avoided alone time with Maggie Campbell. He didn’t trust himself not to make a move on her, so it was easier to leave her be.
“Paul will help, too,” cajoled Jenny.
Great. Paul again. Paul who was practically joined to Maggie at the hip. As much as Nils enjoyed a fishing trip or hunting excursion with the high school principal, he hated how chummy he and Maggie were, and he lived in perpetual fear that their friendship would cross a line one day. Not that Nils was doing anything about it, but if he couldn’t have Maggie, he sure didn’t want anyone else to have her either because he was a…selfish bastard.
“Lars practically lives in the park, Jen. When he’s not wildcatting.” He turned on the coffee machine in the back of the office that made Gardiner’s weakest and worst cup of coffee.
“Sorta thought he’d be better behaved once he lost his wingman.”
“Erik getting hitched doesn’t keep Lars from going after the Park Gi
rls. Just gives him more to choose from.”
“How come you never go after the Park Girls, Nils?”
“Who says I don’t?”
“Seems like Erik and Lars always went carousing while you hung back, looking out for all of us. You don’t have to be the big brother anymore, you know. You should be having more fun.”
“I have plenty of fun, Jenny.”
“What, working? Planning tours and going to church on Sunday?”
“Why are you giving me a hard time?”
“I’m worried about you. Maybe I got it wrong. Maybe you don’t want to be with Maggie, but don’t you want to be with someone?”
He winced at her words, cradling the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he carried his coffee cup over to his desk.
Want to be with someone? Of course. But it wasn’t that simple. It would never be that simple. Once upon a time he’d been with someone and lost her and it had just about killed him. He set the mug on his desk and reached up to rub a spot on his forehead that still sported a mild bump after all these years. He didn’t want to talk about these things with Jenny. He didn’t want to talk about them at all.
“If I say I’ll help Maggie with the party, will you hang up the phone and leave me alone?”
She sighed. “Will you?”
“Yes, smärta i nacken. You knew I would.”
“If one of us is a pain in the neck…” she started, but she didn’t finish the thought. Instead she offered softly, her voice warm and loving, “Elsker deg, Nils.”
And that was why Nils—or any of his brothers, for that matter—would never be able to say no to Jenny. Because Jenny said I love you in their mother’s voice, and Lord only knew how much they all missed her.
“Ja, Jen. Elsker deg også.”
“I’ll call Maggie tomorrow and set everything up with her, and then you go over there and offer to give her a hand, Nils. And be nice. No grouchy-bear-Nils grudgingly offering to help. You make her feel like you want to help, okay?”
“Anything else, Miss Bossy?”
“I’ll get Paul and Lars to help, too.”
“Like you could keep Paul from helping,” muttered Nils.