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playing the part, but experience had taught him to mould himself into whatever the customer wanted. The sale was all that mattered to the other company investors.
    Lately, that kind of acting had begun to eat away at his conscience. He had moments where he doubted whether success was worth sacrificing his integrity. Oh, it wasn’t that the product wasn’t the best on the market—it was. Just sometimes he would like to be himself, and not put on a false front. There were days where potential customers were rude as hell, and Andy would have gladly told them where they could stick their business. He wouldn’t, though, but he was beginning to think sales really wasn’t his career calling.
    In fact, he had a lot of moments where he asked himself why he bothered anymore. It wasn’t like he had Destry or Ty depending on him now.
    Andy stopped his thoughts from going any further in that direction. It would send him into a frame of mind that sure wasn’t conducive for sales.
    Besides, there was a chance of seeing Salt again, without having to break down and call the man. It’d been forever and a day since Andy had done anything like that. For years it’d just been ‘wham bam’ and ‘see ya later’. It’d had to be. He wasn’t sure he actually had the balls to call Salt, and was glad he might not have to.
    Surely if we see each other, lust’ll carry us past any awkward shit. He was fairly certain Salt was still into him, otherwise why even leave a note?
    Andy’s optimism kicked in and he whistled while got ready to head out. The note he tucked carefully into his wallet before he showered. Salt’s scent still lingered on him, and he kind of hated to wash it off, which was silly and romantic and not like him at all. Andy scrubbed twice, hard enough to leave his skin red, as if punishing it for trying to hang onto Salt’s aroma.
    Good hell, he was a mess sometimes. Andy huffed and turned off the shower. He dried off with the towel he took down from the bar. The towel was thin and not soft at all like the ones he had back at his apartment in Helena. Not very big, either. Andy dropped the towel on the side of the tub then went about making himself presentable.
    He’d managed to kill a half hour by the time he was dressed. Andy packed up his few items and left the motel room. He debated checking out, then decided to go ahead and do so. If there was any reason for him to stay another night, he’d just book a room again. It wasn’t like the motel was crowded.
    Breakfast consisted of McDonald’s coffee and the healthy breakfast bars he’d brought with him. Last night he’d splurged with pizza and beer. Usually he was more particular—God knew he loved pizza and beer, though. Sometimes a man just had to indulge.
    Eating while driving wasn’t Andy’s favourite thing to do either. He parked at the side of McDonald’s. As much as he wanted to head to the ranch, he made himself wait until he’d finished his food. Andy wadded up the trash and stuffed it into a small container he kept in the truck for garbage.
    There was no use in trying to pretend like he wasn’t eager to get to the Mossy Glenn. Andy programmed the address into the GPS and saw that it’d take him about half an hour or so to reach the place. He’d get there early, but maybe if he drove slower, looked around and took in the sights, he’d stretch the drive out to about forty-five minutes.
    Satisfied he wouldn’t be showing up to the Mossy Glenn embarrassingly early, Andy backed out of the parking space. The GPS started rattling off directions and he grimaced. He loved the GPS as much as he hated it. When it worked right, it was great, but sometimes it just spazzed out on him and sent him driving around in circles.
    This time, it worked just right. Andy grinned when he saw the gate for the Mossy Glenn. It was open, but above it on a metal arch hung a gorgeous sign for the place. Along with the name of it, there was the iconic shadowed scene of a cowboy