Every story borrows something from real life. Spy Noon borrows a little bit from mine. I’ve never had to work with a super-flirty coworker, but I did once know someone who reminded me just a little bit of Elliott.

Once upon a time, a guy asked me out on a date. His name was Ryan. He invited me to go hiking. In November. In the Utah mountains. Not being one to back down from a challenge (or a friend, as Ryan was), I accepted the invitation.

I didn’t own boots (yes, I lived without boots in Utah—still do), so I ended up wearing tennis shoes. Ryan picked me up in his truck, then stopped by his brother’s apartment to pick up . . . his brother Sean. We headed to a sandwich shop, and I think Ryan was offering to get me something, but I’d packed a lunch at home.

At this point, I’m sure Ryan felt the date was going reeeally well. (When I asked his permission to post this, Ryan said, “I don’t know why you insist this was a date.” Yep, really well.)

It only got better.

We drove up in the canyon and stopped at a recreational area. Ryan, who loved camping, hiking, and all that, was very prepared. Sean had just recently moved to Utah, and yet he was still better prepared for hiking than I was. In the knee-deep snow. In tennis shoes.

Again, I do not back down from a challenge easily, so we went forth. Ryan broke the trail, I walked in his footsteps, and Sean played caboose. After a little while, Ryan was a few feet ahead, and Sean reached up to knock me over sideways.

Apparently still being about nine years old, Sean found this hilarious. I remembered the schoolyard lesson that you should ignore your tormentors, and I wouldn’t let Sean get the best of me, so I popped up as quick as I could.

This delighted Sean to no end because he realized he could bug me without me whining about it. So every ten or twenty feet—while we are still hiking in the snow and snow is slipping into my shoes with every step—Sean would knock me over. I wouldn’t acknowledge him and got up before Ryan saw.

But Ryan knew something was happening with the devilish delight in his little brother’s grin. After a while, we turned back and headed to the car to enjoy our sandwiches. Now that he couldn’t knock me over, Sean found other ways to bother me.

It took a long time, but at some point, I’d had enough of Sean. I don’t remember exactly what he did to push me over the edge, but eventually I’d had enough. He did one more thing to bug me, and I turned to him and said, “Shut up, Sean!”

I think one reason I’d held back for so long was that I was worried I’d offend him, and in the split second after I’d finally had it, I really didn’t know how Sean would react.

But I didn’t need to worry. A slow smile grew across his face, like all he’d wanted all along was to get a rise out of me.

I wished I’d told him to shut up sooner.

But it was then I realized that Sean was the brother I’d never had. And never wanted. (When I told him that, he was a little offended, I think.)

That worked out perfectly in the end—because I married Ryan. (And he did give me permission to post this.)

Oh, and I know you’re wondering: yes, that is my husband in a kilt.

Today’s tour stops

Read the scene inspired by this story at Getting Your Read On, and find out three of my guilty pleasures (gulp) with Lisa Swinton, Queen of Random, and (I think) find out what Cami Checketts thought of Spy Noon!