An hour later, she felt the tired ache in her leg muscles as she waited for Bull to fill her orders. Still out of shape, but she was doing better than her first nights here. Walking to the grocery store and coffee shop was making a difference.

Her lips quirked at the thought. Honestly, moving to Alaska was an awfully extreme way to get some exercise. She could have just joined a gym.

Well, except for having a hitman after her.

“You all right, champ?” Bull asked, studying her.

“I’m fine, thank you.” She smiled at him. “I won’t be yelling at any more big animals, trust me.”

“Good to hear.”

The tray of drinks went to a table of three women—massage therapists—who worked at McNally’s Ski Resort. Audrey held up the first one. “Here’s a Long Island Iced Tea.”

“That’s mine,” the sturdy redhead said unnecessarily. Her gaze went past Audrey, and she nudged the blonde on her left. “Isn’t that Brooke at the table by the door?”

The blonde turned and nodded. “That’s her. I see she’s already found herself a hottie.”

The redhead snorted. “Of course she has.”

Taking the last drink, the third woman asked, “I’ve seen her around, I think. Who is she?”

“Resort public relations.” The first woman shook her head. “She pretty much ignores us. For her, it’s all about the men.”

Audrey picked up the empties, swiped over a damp area, and headed for the next table. Her mood soured as she realized the “hottie” beside Brooke was Gabe.

Even worse, they were in her section.

After tending to two other tables, she ran out of reasons to stall.

Sitting with Gabe and Brooke was a dark-haired Hispanic-looking man. He smiled at Audrey as she walked up.

“Are you folks ready for another round?” Audrey asked.

Brooke gave her a cool smile. “Lovely, a waitress at last. I’d like a mojito.”

“All right.” Audrey nodded toward the Hispanic man. “And you, sir?”

“It’s Caz, and you’re Julie, I hear.” The calm Spanish-accented voice was like warm velvet. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s good to finally meet you.”

She froze, feeling her heart stutter in her chest. People were talking about her? Would that draw attention? Get back to Spyros?

When Gabe’s eyes narrowed speculatively, she forced herself to pull in slow breaths. No panicking. Tilting her head toward Caz, she said, “It’s good to meet you, too. Can I get you a drink?”

“I think Bull’s Moose Brewery has a seasonal spring beer. I’d like that, please.” He grinned at Gabe. “And bring Bull’s Off-the-Road stout for the viejo here.”

Viejo meant old man in Spanish. “He’s not old.”

Gabe’s low chuckle sent happy chills up her spine. Oh, he really should laugh more.