Trevor Blake knew that inviting a woman to attend any kind of family event might give her the impression that their relationship meant something more than it really did, and inviting a woman to be his plus-one for a wedding seemed to imply that he was open to the possibility of a wedding in their future. So he’d decided that bringing a date to a family wedding seemed like a Very Bad Idea and resigned himself to attending Brielle and Caleb’s reception on his own.
He’d had more than a few opportunities to second-guess his decision before the vows were even exchanged, as his solo attendance resulted in him being subjected to pitying glances and sympathetic slaps on the shoulder—not to mention the unwelcome and misguided matchmaking efforts of various aunts and cousins. But then he’d spotted the sexy brunette in the pink dress.
She’d disappeared into the crowd immediately after the nuptials, and he was scrutinizing the gathering, trying to catch another glimpse of her, when his brother joined him.
“I should’ve brought a date,” Devin said, offering him one of the two glasses he carried.
Trevor swallowed a mouthful of beer before responding. “Has Aunt Millie offered to set you up with her bridge partner’s granddaughter yet?”
“It was her bridge partner’s second husband’s granddaughter,” Devin clarified.
“Oh, well, in that case,” Trevor said, as he casually scanned the crowd again.
Apparently not casually enough, as his brother asked, “You looking for anyone in particular?”
“No,” he lied.
“You once told me that weddings were a great place to meet single girls, but everyone seems to be paired up,” Devin remarked, sounding disappointed.
“Not everyone,” Trevor said. “Check out the one in the short green dress talking to Brielle right now—isn’t that one of her roommates from New York?”
His brother nodded. “That’s Grace. Lily’s the one in the flowered sundress.”
“Well, I’d put money on Grace being single and interested, because she’s been sending furtive glances in your direction all afternoon.”
“Really?” Devin asked.
“Really,” Trevor confirmed.
Then his brother shook his head. “New York’s a long way away and I’m not interested in a long-distance relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?” he countered. “Why can’t you just enjoy the company of an attractive female for a few hours?”
“Are you really so opposed to the possibility of falling in love again?” Devin asked, sounding worried.
“Love isn’t all hearts and flowers,” Trevor told him. “It’s just the transitional stage between infatuation and heartbreak.”
“And yet, despite that cynical perspective, you never have any trouble getting a date when you want one.”
“I’m a Blake,” he said, a simple statement of fact. “And so are you, so why don’t you go on over there and ask Grace to dance?”
“Maybe later,” Devin said, lifting his glass to indicate that he still had a drink to finish.
But Trevor knew the beer in his brother’s hand was only an excuse. Devin was a whiz when it came to anything to do with computers, but he didn’t have the first clue about how to interact with the female gender. He managed to hold his own with family members or work colleagues, but when it came to anyone with whom he experienced even a hint of a spark of attraction, his brilliant brother turned into a babbling idiot.
“Later might be too late,” he felt compelled to warn. “Because Mitchell Gilmore looks like he’s getting ready to make a move.”
Devin frowned as he watched the other man make his way toward Grace, then his frown turned into a wince. “Don’t look now, but Aunt Millie’s heading in this direction.”
Trevor heeded the warning, but mostly because his attention had been snagged by a flash of pink.
And there she was again—standing in front of the fence of a nearby paddock, sipping from a flute of champagne.
He would have bet his annual dividends that she was an out-of-town guest, because if she’d been a local resident, he would have met her long before now. He would have made a point of it.
She was on the skinny side of slender, and though he was generally attracted to a woman with more distinct curves, there was something about her that immediately appealed to him. She had dark hair tied up in some kind of twist that made him want to let it loose to tumble over her shoulders, to feel its softness in his hands. And she had long, shapely legs that he could easily imagine—
She caught him looking at him then, and her eyes went wide, as if she was privy to his innermost thoughts. Or maybe she was simply surprised by his blatant perusal.
He smiled, to assure her that he meant no offense by his attention, and waited for her to smile back—an acceptance of his wordless invitation.
Instead she turned her head, breaking the connection and snapping the thread of tension that had stretched between them across the distance, set her empty glass on top of a nearby barrel and walked away.
With a shrug, Trevor resumed his survey of the crowd.
There were plenty of other females in attendance, and he was certain he could find someone to flirt and dance with, if that’s what he wanted.
But it was the one in pink who intrigued him.
And it had been a long time since anyone had done so.
He handed his half-empty glass to his brother. “Excuse me,” he said. “There’s someone I need to talk to.”
Devin, following the direction of his gaze, asked, “Who is she?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Trevor vowed.
* * *
This was why she didn’t wear fancy shoes, Haylee acknowledged, as she carefully made her way across the uneven ground. Sure, the sandals looked good with the dress, but they were more suited to a polished floor than country fields.
The skyscraper heels were out of place here, just like Haylee. And as she moved farther away from the gathering, she almost felt like a little girl again, playing dress up with her sister, pretending to be somebody that she wasn’t.
At the end of the day, she knew the external trappings didn’t matter. What mattered was the person inside—and that person didn’t have the first clue about the rules of the games men and women played. But as she walked away from the smiling stranger, for the first time in her adult life Haylee found herself sincerely regretting that lack of knowledge and experience.
Just be yourself, Finley had urged. Making conversation with a guy is no different than making conversation with anyone else.
Haylee knew that, of course, because she talked to guys every day.
In fact, Monday through Friday, she spent more time in the company of men than women. But that was on the job and most of those guys were her coworkers. It wasn’t easy for a female electrician to be accepted in what was predominantly still a male occupation, and it had taken some time—and a lot of hard work—to earn the respect and trust of her colleagues. The fact that they talked with their mouths full, didn’t bother to censor their language and occasionally offered to buy her a beer after work proved that she’d done so. That, to them, she was just one of the guys. Certainly none of them had ever looked at her the way the gorgeous guy standing outside the food tent had looked at her.
Of course, he wasn’t seeing the real Haylee Gilmore but rather the image that her sister had helped her create, to give her the confidence to put herself out there and meet new people. Finley would be so disappointed to know that her sister had run away from the first guy who’d made eye contact with her.
So focused was Haylee on her internal recriminations that she didn’t notice the hole in the ground until she’d stepped in it. She immediately teetered, her arms windmilling as she fought to regain her balance. But it was no use—her heel was stuck and the rest of her was about to get up close and personal with the ground.
In fact, she had just about half a second to wonder if she’d ever be able to get the inevitable dirt and grass stains out of her dress before a pair of strong arms caught her.
“Oh,” she said, breathless not from the stumble but the catch—and that was before she recognized the guy who’d done the catching.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Of course, his voice was as perfect as the rest of him, and all her girl parts quivered in response to the sexy timbre.
“Um, yeah. I think so.”
“Gopher hole,” he told her, bending to retrieve the shoe that was still lodged in the ground. “A local hazard.”
“I think the shoes are the hazard,” she admitted.
“Maybe,” he acknowledged, holding the sandal so that she could slide her foot back into it. “But they sure do look good on you.”
He lifted the back strap over her heel, the pad of his thumb brushing against her skin, an unexpectedly sensual caress that raised goose bumps on her arms. Then he adjusted the straps that crossed over the top of her foot, to ensure they weren’t twisted, and rubbed a spot of dirt off her shiny pink toenail.
“Nice color.”
And she said a silent prayer of thanks to her sister for bullying her into a pedicure at the end of their marathon shopping session.
“Thanks,” she said. “And for the rescue.”
“It’s what I do,” he said as he straightened up again.
He topped her height by a good two or three inches, even with Haylee wearing heels, confirming that her original estimate of his height had been accurate. But his masculine good looks were even more potent at close range.
Making conversation with a guy is no different than making conversation with anyone else.
Finley was right—she could do this.
She would do this.
“Professional knight in shining armor?” she queried lightly.
“Strictly amateur,” he said with a wink.
And her heart skipped again.
Damn he was potent.
But look at that, she mused. In a town of twenty-two hundred people, at a wedding with a significantly lesser number of guests in attendance, she was having a conversation—some might even say bantering—with a good-looking guy.
A really good-looking guy.
“So…are you a friend of the bride or groom?” he asked her now.
“Actually, I’m a cousin of the groom.” She proffered her hand. “Haylee Gilmore.”
He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, simply held it in his own. “No kidding,” he said, sounding amused. “I’m a cousin of the bride.”
“Do you have a name, cousin of the bride?”
“Trevor Blake.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Trevor Blake.”
“The pleasure is mine, Haylee Gilmore.”
She managed a smile and resisted the urge to press a hand to her stomach, where butterflies were fluttering just because she was standing close to him.
So close she could smell his aftershave—or maybe it was his soap. Either way, the scent clouded her brain, far more potent than the single glass of champagne she’d drunk.
“So where are you from, Haylee Gilmore? Because I know you’re not from around here.”
“Oakland, California.”
“You must be close to your cousin, to have traveled so far to celebrate his wedding.”
“Truthfully, I haven’t seen Caleb—or any of my Haven cousins—in years,” she confided. “This wedding was a good excuse to do just that.”
“Did your boyfriend make the trip with you?”
Boyfriend?
She almost laughed out loud at the question, but of course that would ruin the image she was trying to project—apparently with some success, as this guy believed there might be someone with her. Or waiting for her back home.
Instead, she shook her head. “No boyfriend.” And then, because the opening was too perfect to resist, she asked, “How about you?”
He shook his head. “Nope—no boyfriend.”
She could feel the heat climb into her cheeks.
Then he grinned. “And no girlfriend, either.”
“That’s good,” she said, and her face burned hotter. “I mean—”
He chuckled, saving her the effort of trying to fumble for the right words—or any words that didn’t make her sound even more awkward and inept.
“It is good,” he said. “Because it means there’s no one to object if I ask you to dance.”
She glanced back at the reception area and the mass of bodies crowded together on the dance floor.
“Are you asking me to dance?” she queried.
“I am,” he confirmed and, without waiting for a response, drew her into his arms.
“Wait…you want to dance right here?”
“We can hear the music well enough, can’t we?” he asked, swaying to the slow beat of Sam Smith’s “Stay With Me.”
The music wasn’t very loud, but it was audible, and her body was already falling under the seductive spell of his movements.
“And by the time we made our way to the dance floor, this song would be over, likely to be followed by something like ‘Twist and Shout’ to get the crowd bouncing around again.”
“You don’t like ‘Twist and Shout’?”
“It’s a great song,” he said. “But not one that would be conducive to me holding you—and I really wanted to hold you.”
“It wasn’t enough that I already fell into your arms—literally?”
“No.” He held her gaze for a long moment. “It wasn’t enough.”
She could feel herself falling again—under his spell, this time, melting against him.
But how could she be expected to resist a guy who was as charming as he was good-looking?
And why should she even try?
What was wrong with indulging her own desires just a little, for just this one night?
“Tell me about yourself,” he suggested, as they continued to dance under the stars. “What do you do in Oakland, California?”
One more piece of advice, Finley had said, as Haylee was zipping up her suitcase, ready to head out the door. Don’t talk about your job.
Why not?
Because some guys are intimidated by a woman who wears a tool belt to work.
I wouldn’t want to be with a guy who can’t respect what I do.
Of course you wouldn’t, her sister agreed. But you’re not looking for a life partner this weekend, just someone with whom to practice your flirting skills. And maybe your kissing skills. Finley grinned then. And maybe more.
“I work for an electrical contracting company,” Haylee finally said, in answer to his question. “What do you do?”
“I work for a local mining company.”
“So you’re not really a cowboy?” she asked, only the teensiest bit disappointed.
“Occasionally on weekends, I help out at the family ranch,” he said, then winked. “But women really dig the hat.”
She couldn’t deny it was true. “And this local mining company…that would be Blake Mining?” she surmised. “The hugely successful silver and gold excavator that is Haven’s single biggest employer and, I’d guess from your name, a family business?”
“And now that all my secrets have been revealed, you have to tell me something else about you,” he said.
“Hmm…” She paused, as if considering what to reveal. The problem was, her life really wasn’t very interesting. “How about a confession?”
“I’m listening,” he assured her.
“This is the first time I’ve ever danced in a field of cows.”
“The cows are on the other side of the fence, so we’re actually dancing in a field beside a field of cows.”
“I stand corrected,” she said. “This is the first time I’ve ever danced in a field beside a field of cows.”
He smiled then. “And if I kissed you now, would it be the first time you’ve ever been kissed in a field beside a field of cows?”
Her breath caught in her throat, but somehow she managed to respond. “It would be.”
“Then let’s make this a night of firsts,” he said, and tipped the brim of his hat up before lowering his mouth to touch hers.
And then—
Oh.
My.
God.
—he was kissing her.
His lips were warm and firm and confident as they moved over hers, proving that he had not just experience but some serious skill, and Haylee’s brain scrambled as she tried to keep up.
She’d been kissed before, of course, but never like this.
No one had ever made her feel so much—want so much—with just a kiss. When his tongue slid between her lips, her brain stopped trying to keep up and simply shut down, letting her instincts take over.
She lifted her hands to his shoulders, holding on to him for support as the ground seemed to shift beneath her feet. His hands skimmed up her back, not touching so much as teasing, stoking her desire, making her burn with want, with need. She pressed closer to him, marveling at his hardness, melting into his heat, wordlessly asking for more and offering everything that she had to give.
It was Trevor who finally ended the kiss, easing his mouth from hers only when they were both breathless.
“You are a dangerous woman, Haylee Gilmore,” he said, whispering the words against her lips.
Dangerous?
He obviously didn’t know her at all.
Or maybe she’d underestimated herself for a lot of years, because when she was with Trevor, she felt different.
Stronger. Sexier. Bolder.
And, if not dangerous, at least a little reckless.
“You started it,” she reminded him.
“Yeah,” he acknowledged. “And I was close to finishing it, too, in a field beside a field of cows.”
The idea was more appealing than she wanted to admit. “That would have been another first for me,” she said lightly.
“Me, too.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, still tingling from his kiss. “We should probably get back to the party.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
But he didn’t step away from her. Not yet.
“How long are you going to be in town?” he asked instead.
“I have an early flight back to Oakland in the morning.”
“That’s not very long at all,” he noted, sounding sincerely disappointed by this revelation. “I was hoping we could spend the day together and get to know one another a little better.”
And then some kind of primal instinct took over, causing Haylee to throw caution—and common sense—to the wind. “Why don’t we spend the night together instead?”