Chapter Two

Dressed for the big event, Spencer sat in Noah’s hotel room watching his new friend twist the hell out of his bow tie. Like he’d never worn one before—wait…he probably hadn’t. Spencer swallowed a chuckle, reminding himself he was about as far from New York as he could get without falling into the ocean. He rose from the couch and moved toward Noah. “Let me help.”

With the almost weekly black-tie charity events Spencer attended, a tuxedo was practically a second skin to him. Though truth be told, it’d taken him three times to tie his own before coming up to Noah’s room. He couldn’t concentrate, not with Starr’s blond ringlets bouncing through his brain. And those lips, with that sexy little pout she’d given before launching into her love and commitment spiel. And the kicker? She seemed earnest. Honest. He couldn’t remember the last woman he’d dated who was either.

Most of the women he knew were fixated on climbing the social ladder and using Spencer to do it. Every date, every relationship—it was like he was watching one big monotonous movie. When did that happen? He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it’d started to become mundane—the hunt, the chase, the inevitable conquest. The do-it-all-again the next week.

Maybe he was looking in the wrong spot. No, he wasn’t looking at all. Jet lag was messing with his brain—either that or the heavy country air. He focused on fixing the knot for the groom-to-be. “There.” Spencer stepped back.

Noah pulled at the tie. “Not bad. Thanks, man. And thanks for being here. It means a lot to Gracie.”

Gracie, Christ. They had nicknames for each other. Spencer eyed the guy he’d once, briefly, thought of as competition. Thank God for small miracles that Spencer’s relationship with Grace had never gone beyond friends. She deserved more than he could offer. She deserved a man whose eyes shone when he mentioned her name, like Noah’s did now.

He patted the groom on the shoulder. “You got yourself a good woman. She loves you, and you love her. You’re going to have a beautiful life together.” Great. Now he sounded like a fricking Hallmark card. Blondie had rubbed off on him.

He cleared his throat and checked his watch, then turned back to Noah. “You ready? It’s showtime.”

Thirty minutes later, Spencer stood at the makeshift altar pretending to listen to the justice of the peace ramble on. He stood across from Starr and couldn’t help but appreciate her curves in that fitted purple dress. He tried to catch her eye, multiple times, but she steadfastly refused to look his way. Which only made Spencer more eager to try.

“The rings, please,” the justice of the peace said. JJ, Grace’s eleven-year-old brother, stepped forward. He’d begged to have a part in this shindig. Spencer had obliged, with Noah’s approval, of course. It was probably for the best, anyway. Spencer wouldn’t want his “bad karma” rubbing off on the rings.

The ceremony ended, and the corner of the ballroom—what would soon be the dance floor but was currently filled with people sitting in folding chairs and even more people standing behind them—erupted in cheers. Apparently, the whole dang town was here. One big happy family. Exactly what one would expect from a small-town wedding of grade-school sweethearts. Noah and Grace both beamed with happiness. It was picture-perfect, really.

And Spencer was totally out of his element.

His bow tie hung like a weight around his neck. He stuck a finger in his collar and tugged in an effort to loosen the noose. He should’ve said no when Grace had asked him to be the best man. Her request was so ridiculous and unexpected…and touching. He’d forgotten he didn’t fit with families—his own or anyone else’s. Still, if there was anyone he’d play the part for, it was Grace.

The new bride and groom walked down the aisle through their adoring fans, and Spencer and Starr fell in behind them. As they walked, Spencer reached for his partner’s hand and placed it on his forearm, nice and proper. Starr stiffened but didn’t pull it away. Maybe he’d been a little over-the-top at the bar, spouting off about the ruinous outcome of weddings. But dammit if Kate hadn’t pushed his buttons when she’d called. They’d had a good time the night before. They could’ve had a lot more good times. Why did women always want more?

“You look great in purple,” he whispered to Starr.

“It’s periwinkle.”

Dang hot was what it was, whatever the name.

“Relax,” he murmured. He could smell her perfume, floral and with a hint of vanilla. “Your perfume. Is it lavender?”

She looked at him liked he’d grown a second head. But he wasn’t totally unfamiliar with women’s perfumes. In fact, he’d represented a fragrance company once and had one hell of a good time with the top saleswoman, testing the company’s new line of massage oils.

“It’s lilac,” she said through gritted teeth.

He tugged Starr’s arm to shift her out of the path of a wayward toddler and, coincidentally, toward him. When she sidestepped the toddler and managed to increase the distance between them a couple more inches, he sighed. “I don’t bite,” he said, voice low.

“Yeah, well, maybe I do,” she muttered.

He pressed his lips together to stop a grin. He doubted she knew how sexy her response was. She was at least ten inches shorter than him, which was much shorter than his usual type. But there was this spark in her blue eyes every time she sparred with him. This woman knew what she wanted, and she didn’t need Spencer to get it. It was refreshing. He couldn’t help but draw in closer. He took a deeper breath. Lilacs were the bomb.

Starr straightened her back, and she took a half step away, as far as she could without it being obvious to the guests. The floral scent dissipated into the space between them. He was surprised at the sudden urge he felt to draw her back and breathe her in. He paused in his step.

“Just. Walk.” Her words pushed out through her fake grin as she tugged his arm to keep walking.

He let out a chuckle and moved forward. “It may surprise you, I’m able to walk and talk at the same time. Though, I’ll tell you a secret.” He leaned his head in, careful not to cross the imaginary line she’d apparently drawn. “I’m still working on the bubblegum thing.”

Her lips twisted in what seemed like an effort to ward off a smile before her no-nonsense face returned. “I’m not surprised.”

At least they were talking. He’d have her dancing next. It was a game of cat and mouse. One at which he excelled. Anticipation flared in his chest—something he hadn’t felt in months.

Maybe he wasn’t totally out of his element after all.

…

Starr plunked down next to JJ, who was sitting quietly by himself at the head table. She glanced out into the sea of people and decorations. The room looked spectacular. The people were having fun. Grace and Noah were happy. Success.

She scooted her chair closer but didn’t touch Grace’s brother. She knew better. Today was stressful enough for JJ with all these people around. Just because no one could “see” his autism didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

“Guess it’s just you and me for the next week,” she said.

The boy nodded in response, his eyes trained on Grace and Noah as they laughed and interacted with their guests. Starr’s eyes wandered, not looking for anyone in particular. She hadn’t seen her partner since they’d finished eating over a half hour ago, which was fine. It’s not like she needed, or wanted, to know where he was.

Her eyes stopped at a small cluster of women in the corner giggling like schoolgirls. Why… Wait. They weren’t all women. There was one man towering over them, smack in the middle. Of course. Did Spencer really need to make such a spectacle of himself?

She forced her attention back to JJ. “I hope you’ll take the lead with all those animals back at the farm,” she said. You don’t care what Spencer’s doing. There’s no reason to look. “I could use some help feeding them.” Sure, she’d helped Noah and Grace some mornings. She was staying in the cottage at their place since she’d moved back to Reno—a temporary situation, just until she figured out her next move. But helping out was different than taking charge.

JJ looked toward her for the first time, looking just past her instead of making direct eye contact. “You grew up on a farm.”

Maybe she should go over and tell Spencer to stop putting on such a show. People were probably having a hard time watching anything else. How embarrassing.

“You grew up on a farm,” JJ repeated, interrupting Starr’s inner monologue.

She focused on the boy. “Uh, yeah. We had horses and chickens and even a cow. But Noah did all the work. I was busy skiing.”

“Too bad I leave tomorrow afternoon.” Spencer’s voice startled her from behind. “I’d love to check out the skiing in Tahoe, but I can’t change my flight. My firm’s got a big deal closing.”

“Yeah, too bad.” She glanced at him with a glower meant to scream the opposite. “What happened to your little party over there?” She gave a nod to the now-empty corner.

He raised a brow.

Why, why, why would she admit she noticed? Heat creeped up her neck toward her cheeks.

It didn’t help that he wouldn’t stop staring. Dang if he didn’t look good in that tux. It’d taken every ounce of control she’d had not to stare at him during the ceremony. How could she possibly avoid it now? He towered over her, all big and broad and…hunky.

He reached past her and nudged JJ on the shoulder. “Good job with the ring, kid.”

JJ froze at the touch and then slipped off his chair and disappeared into the crowd.

“You can’t do that.” Starr watched JJ scamper away. “He doesn’t like to be touched. Didn’t Grace or Noah explain to you?” Her voice was sharp, tinged with irritation. Everything about Spencer seemed to irritate her. She looked up at him. What did Grace see in him that made him such good friend material?

“I didn’t mean to spook him.” He sounded sincere and looked a bit spooked himself. Starr immediately regretted her harsh words. “Yeah, Grace told me about him,” he said. “I just figured since he already knew me from this afternoon…” He shrugged.

She softened her tone. “I tread carefully, and I’ve known him all his life.” Living at their ranch these past few months had certainly helped, and sure, she and JJ would be fine this week while Grace and Noah were on their honeymoon. But she had no doubt JJ would keep his distance.

“Is he still drawing?” Spencer asked. “The sketches Grace brought to New York were fantastic.”

Starr smiled. “His sketch pad is probably stuffed underneath his shirt.”

“It’s good he has something he enjoys so much. When I was his age…” His voice trailed off as he glanced into the crowd where JJ had disappeared. “Let’s just say my interests weren’t nearly as wholesome.” The hard shell he apparently guarded himself with dropped, and a cloudy haze filled his eyes, a distant memory, and most likely one better left far away. Starr recognized the look. She saw it in the mirror every morning.

“Your interests? Hmm… Let me guess: spin the bottle expert?” She tried to keep the words light, but she wasn’t able to erase the hard edges completely. Her own guard wouldn’t let her.

His lips twisted, and the twinkle returned to his blue-gray eyes. “Something like that.” He looked around, perhaps looking for a change-of-subject topic. And he found one. “I still can’t get over all these cowboys.”

Starr followed his gaze across the room. He was right; at least a dozen guys wore suits and completed the look with cowboy boots. There was even a cowboy hat or two in the room. She hadn’t noticed. Sort of like how the slot machines in every grocery store blended into normal.

She raised her brow. “Jealous, are we?”

He gave her a not-in-this-lifetime look, but before he could respond, the DJ announced the bridal dance.

“Sounds like we’re up.” Spencer held out his hand, an invitation to the dance floor.

Dang, she had forgotten about the bridal dance, had hoped the hand-on-arm walk down the aisle was as close as she’d have to get to Spencer. When he’d touched her hand to lead her out of the ceremony, she’d felt a shock wave up her arm. A shock of disdain, of course, since she wasn’t attracted to him. At all. Guys like him were bad news. They treated women as accessories. Like Robert—and once she’d figured that out, she’d planned to kick him to the curb. Only he pushed her there first. Jackass.

Spencer still stood there, hand outstretched, confidence intact. “Come on, it’s one dance. Plus, it’s your duty, Ms. Hallmark Card.” He flashed that angel-sweet dimpled grin. “I won’t bite if you don’t.”

Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his, steeling herself for a jolt. The built-up anticipation lessened the impact to a mild hum, warm and almost inviting. Okay, she could handle one dance.

He pulled her in and, stepping to the music, closed his arms around her. So close she couldn’t help but smell his cologne. A bit of pine, a bit of spice, not too overbearing on either. Rather pleasant, actually. Totally opposite his personality.

He bent his head, humming in her ear. Humming. He was way too relaxed, getting way too much enjoyment out of a situation that, ironically, was due to the conventions of an event he abhorred. Still, she loved to dance and might as well enjoy this one song.

Her body moved easily to the music and followed Spencer’s lead in perfect rhythm. She had to admit it was nice to dance with someone who could keep a beat, who’d clearly taken more than a few ballroom lessons. Robert had two left feet and never wanted to take her dancing.

Spencer’s chin brushed her forehead, or was that his lips? Her mind went blank, the music temporarily muffled, and she tripped on the next step. Strong arms steadied her.

“S…s…sorry.” Since when did she stutter?

“No more champagne for you.” The words were said in jest, but when she looked up to his face, his eyes were clouded with concern.

She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Just not paying attention, I guess.” Her heart pitter-patted like she’d just finished a run down Killebrew Canyon at Heavenly Ski Resort. Granted, she’d been a little lax—okay, very lax—with her exercise regimen these past couple months. But she shouldn’t be huffing after one dance.

Spencer slid a thumb down her arm.

She shivered. Who was she kidding? This wasn’t about her exercise regimen. She repositioned her dance frame and put a space the size of Lake Tahoe between them. “So, uh, how did you and Grace meet?”

Spencer adjusted to their new dance positions and continued gliding her across the floor without missing a beat.

“What you really mean,” he said, “is how on earth did a sweet person like Grace become friends with a cad like me.”

Her eyes widened at his blunt callout. “No, not at all,” she said, trying to cover for her open-book face.

He, of course, looked unconvinced.

Fine, since they were being blunt… “I mean, I would never use the word cad—because nobody uses the word cad.”

He barked a laugh. “Touché. But can we at least try to be friends?”

She had to admit, he’d gotten there despite plane delays—and despite it clearly not being his first choice of weekend venues. Friends come in all shapes and sizes, right? And she had no complaint about his shape or size. Unfortunately.

He tilted his head like he was considering options. “Well, I think you should give me another chance. I mean, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“Friendship?” She half-snorted. Though the type of friendship he had in mind might be fun. He looked like sex on a stick. Could he be as good as he looked?

An irrelevant question since she’d never find out. Starting tonight, she was babysitting JJ. She glanced around the room, her gaze settling on a smiling bride and groom.

“You know, all kidding aside,” she said, turning back to Spencer, “you mean the world to Grace, so I’m glad you made it and didn’t also get bumped from that second flight today.” She shrugged. “Guess the karma gods wanted to cut you a break, so I should, too.”

“I’m glad to hear that, and yes, the karma gods were very good to me today. But I didn’t get bumped from the first flight. I was on a business call that, thankfully, I was able to finish.”

What?

“You put a phone call ahead of Grace’s wedding?” Of all the idiotic things to do.

“It was a very important call. The deal was about to implode. I saved it.”

“If your new flight had been late, you would’ve missed the ceremony.” Which, right now, sounded like nirvana.

“But I didn’t, and everything worked out fine,” he said almost smugly. “Must be my good friend, Karma.”

Starr forced her feet to continue to follow his dance lead. She wasn’t sure which irked her more: what he’d done or his unapologetic, matter-of-fact tone.

“You let us assume your missed flight was uncontrollable. If Grace knew the truth, she’d be crushed.” Which would definitely bump Spencer down a notch or two on the so-highly-thought-of friend scale.

“Grace already knows the truth. I told her the flight was overbooked and that I would be rebooked on another. Both were true.”

The song ended, and she stepped back from him. “You know what else is true? You’re an ass.” She turned on her heel and left him on the dance floor.

Did she really just do that? Chest heaving—with exhilaration or regret, she wasn’t sure—she scanned the room for her best friend. Destiny’s long, shiny, dark almost-black hair stood out in the crowd, and Starr beelined for her.

“What happened?” Destiny asked, assessing Starr’s look of agitation. She grabbed Starr’s hand—or, rather, fist—and pried it open, then pulled her a few feet away from the other guests. “Are you okay?”

Destiny Morson had graduated with Noah and Grace, but it was Starr who’d kept in touch with her over the years. Now that Starr was back in town, their friendship had immediately blossomed.

“Yeah, I’m just…no. That man…” She tried to steady her breathing, knowing there was nothing she could do for her more-than-likely flushed face except calm down and wait it out. How had he managed to get to her? Why did she let him? “He’s stubborn and cocky and…”

“Gorgeous.”

“Entitled,” Starr spat. “The New York City smog must’ve clouded Grace’s judgment about him.”

Destiny pressed her lips together, but a grin pushed through. “At least after tonight you never have to see him again.” She cocked her head. “What’s really bothering you?” Destiny’s intuition had always been her strength. She had that soothing, mother hen demeanor that drew people in and put them at ease. Probably why she made such a good social worker.

Starr crossed her arms. “I went up to Mount Rose the other day—dressed, equipment, check, check—and froze like an ice sculpture at the edge of the snow. I couldn’t do it.” She tapped her foot with impatience. She’d given herself time. Months. Didn’t push it, waited until she felt like going, just like her therapist said. It still hadn’t worked. “What if I never can?”

“Stop it. Of course, you will.” Destiny squeezed Starr’s hand. “You’re expecting too much too soon. You’ll get back on those skis when you’re ready. Next week, next month—there’s no rush.” She put her arms around Starr’s waist and hugged. “Now go help Grace and play hostess.”

Starr nodded and then slowly made her way through the room chatting with guests, getting stopped every five seconds for a hug or a kiss on the cheek, everyone welcoming her home like a prodigal daughter. Starr had traveled all over the world for her skiing, lived in Europe and New Zealand. One thing Washoe City had over everywhere else: neighbors were loyal and friends were lifelong.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Mrs. Walters, the seventy-year-old owner of the Stop-n-Gas, a convenience store and coffee shop a few miles from her brother’s ranch. She was dressed in what looked like her Sunday best: a royal blue linen dress, matching jacket, matching shoes, and a matching hat a la the Queen of England.

“You look beautiful, my dear,” Mrs. Walters said.

“Thank you. So do you.” Starr hugged the old woman, whom she’d known since she was a baby. “We’re so glad you could make it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” She tsked. “Those two were meant for each other from day one. All that nonsense everyone said—all rubbish.”

Starr swallowed a giggle. If anyone knew about sharing rubbish, it was Mrs. Walters, the resident gossip.

The old woman leaned in to Starr and lowered her voice. “Now tell me, dear, all about your hunky partner.” She nodded toward Spencer. “The ladies sure do seem to like him.”

Starr followed her gaze—to Spencer, back holding court in the corner of the ballroom, this time with twice as many single women as before, including two of the servers. “They sure do,” Starr said with as much fake pep as she could muster.

She watched Spencer, relaxed yet in control. Every movement deliberate yet totally natural.

Just like her skiing used to be.

No, there was nothing similar about her and Spencer.

“I talked to him a bit. Thinks the world of Grace and mentioned skiing. Seems like you two might have a lot in common.” The old woman winked. “Trust me, girl, I know these things.”

Lord help them both.

A short while later, Starr watched her brother and Grace move hand-in-hand through the ballroom toward the exit, pausing at each table to thank guests. The bride and groom’s faces radiated a euphoria fueled by each other. What did that feel like? Starr certainly hadn’t felt it with Robert. The only thing that had ever truly exhilarated Starr was a mountaintop. And even that had seemed to change in the months leading up to the accident. The competitions weighed on her more, seemed more like work than passion. When had skiing stopped feeding her soul?

She continued to watch Noah and Grace. Starr disagreed with her brother about a lot of things, but maybe he was smarter when it came to knowing what mattered.

At the end of the night, once Grace and Noah had made their escape and most of the guests had left, Starr led a sleepy JJ out of the ballroom. As she passed Spencer, still surrounded by a few admirers, she caught his eye—accidentally. He nodded, then raised a brow and his wineglass, as if to say his offer was still open. Whatever his faults, the guy was persistent and didn’t hold a grudge. She mouthed good night and kept walking.

Maybe if things were different, she’d have thrown caution to the wind for one night. After all, it’s not like they’d have to see each other again.

Who was she kidding? That had never been her style. And now, more than ever, she wouldn’t be throwing caution anywhere. She couldn’t take chances. Not anymore. She wouldn’t risk her heart, or any other body part, ever again.

Up in her hotel room, Starr tucked JJ into the queen next to hers and then slid under her covers, cocooning herself. Nighttime was the worst time. After counting sheep and a host of other farm animals, she’d invariably fall asleep—and end up barreling down a mountainside, trying to outrun a tidal wave of snow behind her. It never caught her, it never packed around her so tight she almost suffocated, like in Austria. Before that happened she’d wake up panting, sweating, and scared. But tonight, maybe the sound of JJ’s rhythmic breathing would keep the nightmare at bay.

She closed her eyes and practiced the deep-breathing techniques her therapist had taught her. In-out, in-out, in… It worked. She fell asleep almost instantly, and she didn’t dream of fleeing death.

Instead, she dreamed of strong arms and a pair of blueish-gray eyes. It was the first time she slept through the night since the accident.