He looked at Ayana matching his long strides beside him.She had a lovely profile.Great bones.But she’d need a warm winter hat.And a winter coat.They’d take care of that tomorrow morning.Tonight would be for them.To talk about… whatever.
He paused.She stumbled a little.
“What?”
“I just realized I don’t really have an agenda for tonight or any night.What do couples do?”He stared at her.
He usually retreated into work at night.Would she crochet more of the vests with a few of those flowers with beads?
And we’re not really a couple.
But they were now.How long would it take before the reality was nailed down?
“We’ll work it out as we bump along, together.”
She seemed unconcerned.They jogged up the stairs, just as a few snowflakes started to swirl around them.
Ayana smiled and then spun in a circle at the top of the stairs though a doorman had swung open the door for them.She spread her arms wide, hands bare as if she could catch the elusive flakes that melted on contact.
“It’s beautiful.”
“First dusting of the season, miss,” the doorman said, smiling, clearly charmed by the tourist who was soon going to be soggy, wet, and cold, but he made no move to close the door.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“This one won’t stick,” the doorman said.“But depending on how long you’re a guest at the Graff, there’s another dusting of snow predicted next week, though predicting the weather seems to never be better than fifty-fifty around here.With the mountains, the valley residents practically have their own weather gambling league.”
“What are the stakes?”Ayana’s eyes shone like a top-shelf bourbon placed before a fire.“I might need to get in on that action.”
The doorman laughed, but Telford wasn’t sure she was joking.She’d said she’d been a dealer on the riverboat cruises.A poker face was another plus.
“Montana’s going to be marvelous.”She shot him a smile that nearly had him tripping over the threshold.
Ayana sailed through the door, thanking the doorman, and then she pulled off her coat and slung it over her shoulder.Her dress—her wedding dress—clung to her curves, making him feel like he’d discovered a lily blooming in a crevice in a granite mountain.She sauntered toward the bar.For a moment, disappointment crashed through him.He’d imagined having her to himself tonight, but perhaps a public setting would keep his suddenly active imagination and libido in check.
He followed her, so intent on admiring the view of her small, rounded, tight bottom—was she wearing panties?—that he didn’t notice two men who’d been standing near the bar approach until they flanked Ayana.She widened her stance and rocked up on the balls of her feet.She rolled her shoulders back and her arms went up.
One of the men quickly stepped back, hands up, showing them empty.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”Telford kept his breathing even and used his body to block Ayana from them.
Was this what she was running from?Instincts honed from his early teen years on the streets died when he looked into one of the men’s faces.
“Damnit,” one man said.“It’s true.”
The other muttered an F-bomb and crossed his muscle-hewn arms.Despite the chill outside, one of the men was in a short-sleeve black Carhartt shirt, Wranglers, and a rodeo belt buckle one could see across the room.They both looked like cowboys.The real deal.And Telford’s brain struggled to compute this new—though it should have been anticipated—ambush.
“So, it’s true that news travels fast in small towns.”Ayana stepped into the seething tension.“Gentleman, if you intend to rumble, we’ll take this outside for privacy, but I intend to grab a drink first.I have a powerful thirst,” she said, sounding so sexy Telford had an urge to deck both men just for hearing her husky purring voice.
Caveman much?
She smiled like she was having fun.“As it’s my wedding night, the first round’s on me.Baby, I know what you like.”She stroked her hand down his back like they truly were a couple.“I enjoy an occasional glass of wine.How ’bout y’all?”
“Ma’am,” one of the cowboys said and tipped his hat.“Not here to cause trouble.”
“TBD,” the other muttered darkly.
“Two bourbons.Two fingers.Neat,” the cowboy with the shinier belt buckle said.
