See Jane Fall

Copyright 2014 Katharine Gilliam
Regnery
Smashwords Edition

“…A winner!”

—
Kirkus Reviews
on
By Proxy

When
Trend
magazine contracts
Lindstrom & Sons to manage a fashion shoot in Yellowstone,
easygoing Lars Lindstrom rolls his eyes. “Babysitting” supermodel
Samara Amaya’s assistant sounds like a snore, even amidst the
park’s lush wildlife and scenery. Little does he know that Jane
Mays, Samara’s down-to-earth, smart-mouthed assistant and cousin,
will be the most exciting person he’s ever met. Her smoky voice and
surprisingly sweet heart rock his world.

Jane has been hurt before, but this time it’s
right.
From loving the same music to their effortlessly sexy
sparring, her handsome new tour guide gets her—and Jane is getting
Lars right back until Samara blows into town. Used to living in her
cousin’s shadow, Jane knows Lars will be nothing more than a notch
in a bedpost if the spoiled supermodel has her way. In the past,
maybe she would have stepped aside. This time she’ll find the
strength to stand up to Samara once and for all…and trust that Lars
will be there to catch her if she falls.

See Jane Fall

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons,
living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not
have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author
or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

SEE JANE FALL
Copyright © 2014 Katharine Gilliam Regnery

All rights reserved. Unless specifically
noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned,
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Digital edition created by Maureen
Cutajar
www.gopublished.com

ISBN 978-1-941260-13-5

For Henry, who listened patiently the very
first night Mommy started writing
this book. This one is yours.
I love you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my readers who buy my books and review
them and love them: You are the reason I do this job. I write each
and every word for you. Thank you for being the most amazing fan
base in the world. I am immeasurably blessed.

To the bloggers who pimp my reads, write the
most thoughtful, brilliant reviews and occasionally let me host
book-boyfriend parties on their Facebook pages: You know who you
are and I am in awe of you. So often now, I find myself writing a
scene with one of you in mind. To all of the bloggers that take the
time to read and thoughtfully review my books, this shout out is
for you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your regard and
support.

To Chris, Jill, and Michelle at Boroughs
Publishing Group. Extraordinary amounts of gratitude for continuing
to believe in me and my books.

To my critique partners on this book, Chris,
Alison, Cynthia and Kristina, thanks so much for the feedback and
for not making me read the kissing scenes out loud!

To my beta readers, Carole, Martina and Mom,
thank you for loving Jane as much as I do.

To my parents, George and Diane, who are the
best possible example of “happily ever after.”

And finally, to George, Henry and Callie. I
love you three to the moon and back times infinity.

All the much.

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

Epilogue

Author Bio

CHAPTER 1

Lars Lindstrom had drawn the short straw.

It was a feather in the cap of Lindstrom
& Sons to be contracted by
Trend
magazine for such a
high-end job, but the fact that Lars was saddled with picking up
some lowly assistant at the Bozeman airport and chauffeuring her
around all weekend while she did errands and whatnot was
infuriating. He was a capable tour guide with sought-after park
expertise, not a glorified taxi driver!

At thirty years old, Lars had been working
with his father and older brother for over a decade, and both would
agree that Lars knew Yellowstone better than anyone. As if Lars and
Yellowstone had a personal, symbiotic understanding, the park
cooperated with him in ways that it didn’t for other tour guides,
who often surrendered their business to the Lindstroms without a
fight:

You’d like to see grizzlies? Lars Lindstrom
will know where they are.

Wolves? Yup. Lars Lindstrom again.

Looking for hidden waterfalls? Look up Lars
Lindstrom when you get to Gardiner; he’ll hook you up.

Part of this expert knowledge was due to the
sheer number of hours Lars spent in the park, familiarizing himself
with every nook and cranny in the northern part, particularly
around the Grand Loop. But it was more than that: his connection to
the park felt visceral, palatable. Like the tree in the children’s
story
The Giving Tree
, the park almost seemed to want to
please Lars as much as possible, in exchange for Lars’s sheer love
for it.

With the park as his partner, Lars grew
adept at leading tours throughout his adolescence into adulthood,
careful to ensure a sense of adventure without compromising safety.
He was requested specifically for corporate fishing tours—ice
and
fly—which he handled with equal efficiency and
confidence. He was also the tour guide of choice for the all-female
groups…at least since his little brother Erik had gotten hitched
and moved away to Kalispell.

Still, despite everything Lars offered to
Lindstrom & Sons, he was continually relegated to what he
considered the drudge-work, and he blamed this on two factors, one
static, and one long past due for review. He was the youngest
employee, which he couldn’t do a thing about, but more irritating
to Lars was that his father and older brother, Nils, each owned
forty-five percent of the business. That left Lars, who had been
much younger when the original papers were drawn up, a paltry ten
percent.

It smarted to be treated as the youngest
when in fact he wasn’t the youngest of his siblings. And while his
salary was good, his stake wasn’t, and it bothered him. He was
treated like the lowest man on the totem pole because, well, that’s
exactly what he was.

Lars glanced out the window of the van,
following the signs for Bozeman Yellowstone International Airport.
He knew the way by heart. Not more than a week of his life in the
past ten years had been spent without at least one trip to or from
Boze to pick up or drop off tourists. There was no public
transportation from Bozeman to Gardiner, which worked to the
Lindstroms’ benefit. If you wanted to get to Yellowstone from the
airport, hiring the Lindstroms was a good way to go.

“Heya, John,” he waved to the gate attendant
at the short-term parking lot, stopping the van to exchange
hellos.

“Heya, Lars. Who’ya got coming in today?
More pretty girls?”

“Nah, not today. But one
very
pretty
girl coming in soon. You heard of Samara Amaya?”

“Who hasn’t? Dated the Viking’s QB last
season, right?”

Lars nodded, grinning. “That’s the one.
She’s coming to do a magazine photo shoot in the park, and guess
who’s in charge of getting Miss Amaya everywhere she needs to
go?”

“Lucky Lars, I’d wager.”

“You got it!”

“What I wouldn’t give to have your job,
brother. She’s smokin’ hot.”

“Tell me about it.” He winked at John, who
chuckled. “But, I’m a professional.”

“So, who’s comin’ in today?”

“Aw, I gotta babysit the location assistant
until Miss Amaya gets here. She comes early to get everything set
up, I guess. You wouldn’t believe the kind of things these famous
people ask for. Water cooled to such–and-such a temperature.
Organic, no-salt peanut butter and Hendrick’s Gin. Like it would
kill her if she had Jif and Beefeater. Goose-down pillows with no
feathers.”

“Down without feathers? How do ya do
that?”

“Beats me. Couldn’t stay in any of the local
hotels either because they weren’t fancy enough. We had to rent a
cottage for her and get it all fixed up. But with the kind of money
she’s paying? I don’t ask questions.”

“You got that right. When you coming back
for the model? I’ll be sure I’m in the terminal getting a cup of
coffee that day!”

“Ha! She’ll be here on Tuesday, after the
long weekend.”

“Alrighty, then. Park it wherever you want,
Lars. And have a good Labor Day weekend!”

“You too, John. Hope you see some
fireworks!”

“I don’t know about me but it sounds like
your
fireworks are coming!”

Lars saluted the parking attendant and
pulled into the lot, something about John’s parting words hitting
Lars a little funny.
My fireworks. Me and Samara Amaya?
Talk
about reaching for the stars.
No way, no how.

So, who? The assistant?
Lars pulled
into a parking space and cut the engine on the tourist van, resting
his hands on the steering wheel in thought.

As much as he had griped about the job of
babysitting Miss Amaya’s assistant because it hurt his pride, deep
inside this particular job was messing with his head a little. Last
night, he’d had a very vivid dream—one of those dreams that feels
so real, you’re shocked when you wake up to find it wasn’t. He
didn’t remember much; just a blurry-faced girl with dark hair
wearing a poodle skirt who’d made him laugh, who’d made him feel
something more than attraction, something possessive and longing,
something greater than lust. And he had woken up this morning
breathless, hard as a rock, confused by the realness and intimacy
of the images. Almost melancholy to realize they weren’t real.

As he made his way through the parking lot
to the terminal, he couldn’t shake the feelings brought on by the
dream—like this was more than just a job, like it was something
more important.

Rationally, he knew his intuition had
nothing to do with Samara Amaya or her assistant, but the timing of
the job and the dream had gotten all mashed up together in his head
today. He couldn’t help it. There was something that
felt…
possible
about the dream. Almost as if—if Lars had
believed in such nonsense—it was more of a
premonition
than
a dream. His heart pounded a little faster as he walked through the
sliding glass doors.

He checked his watch
. 11:42.
Her
flight would arrive from New York in about 13 minutes, and then she
would have to deplane and make her way down to baggage claim. He
stopped in the men’s room to check himself out in the mirror,
running his fingers through his short, thick blond hair and giving
his reflection a wink and a winning smile before heading back out
to the terminal. Assistant or not, she’d get the full Lindstrom
& Sons treatment that
Trend
had booked and paid for, and
that included Charming Lars, her friendly neighborhood tour
guide.

As he sauntered over to the escalator
adjacent to the baggage carousel, he took the cardboard sign out of
his back pocket and unfolded it. He looked down at the neatly
penned sign in his hand, thinking
Jane Mays
didn’t much
sound like John’s “fireworks,”—not to mention shuttling her around
for the next few days wasn’t exactly the stuff of “bombs bursting
in air.”

Dream or no dream, the only fireworks Lars
expected this weekend were the ones set to go off in the Gardiner
Community Park on Monday evening. There was no reason for Lars to
feel extra excited or expectant. No reason at all.