Zeke looked over at Chase, who was no doubt rolling her eyes. Olivia had a sixth sense when it came to such displays of disgust. “I’m not the kind of guy who spreads rumors or makes judgments, but I am the kind of guy who helps a lady with her bags.” He took the handle of Olivia’s suitcase and opened the back door, snagging Chase’s bag with two fingers.

Then he headed toward the cabin.

Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have led with a warning, but she could see he recognized the actress . . . and that he appreciated her assets.

Chase studied Zeke’s retreating form, a bit of appreciation in her own eyes. “Yo, Zeke, I’m not really a lady.”

He turned and lifted an eyebrow. “You want to carry your own bag?”

Chase showed her own dimples. “Looks like you have it under control.”

Zeke said nothing and instead climbed the five steps to the wide-planked porch. He pointed out a loose board on the third step. “Watch your step, ladies. That one’s rotted.”

Chase skirted it, shooting Olivia another glance. “I hope that’s the only one that’s rotten. I don’t want to break a leg. That would defeat the whole purpose of this therapy stuff.”

The swing that had taken up the end of the once-happy porch now hung drunkenly by rusted chains. The rocking chairs, where her granny had snapped beans and told stories of her own grandfather, who was a mining camp preacher, bore splintered spokes and blistered paint. The poor things were about as inviting as a rectal exam. Okay, maybe a bit more inviting than that, but they promised the same result—definite discomfort for the ol’ gluteus maximus.

Chase turned to her. “I’m game for whatever weirdo therapy you have in mind, but this place . . . come on. Tell me this is some kind of test and that Sasquatch here is in on the whole thing.”

Zeke’s eyes widened. “Sasquatch? I’m not that hairy, am I?”

Chase glanced over at him. “No, you’re totally cute. I was being dramatic.”

Zeke actually looked pleased at the “cute” comment. “Kinda your job description, right?”

Chase’s mouth twitched. “This guy so gets me. Anyway, Olivia Han, this place doesn’t look safe. And I know how you like safety.”

Olivia shoved her irritation at Chase’s dig down and focused on what she needed to do at present. “It’s fine. Just needs to be swept and dusted.”

Please let those words be true.

She should have done a better job at picking a place to do the boot camp. Most of her therapists tailored their therapies to each client on a case-by-case basis. It was never a requirement to leave the client’s world, but Olivia had felt strongly that Chase needed to be away from her normal in order to breach the defenses she’d erected and raze the fortress of her emotions to ground level. In order to handle the world Chase wanted to climb back into, she needed to meet herself and learn to be a person first, celebrity second. Since Olivia needed to visit the place and attend to any issues before she and her sister made the decision on whether to put the place on the market or not, Cotter’s Creek seemed the right place for Chase to do the adulting boot camp.