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He ordered her drink and brought it back to her, steam rising from the large orange mug. She wrapped her slim, long fingers around it and breathed in as he claimed his chair once more.
“I chose a ginger peach tea bag. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect.” She smiled at him, her eyes brighter than when she’d first come into the café.
Yes. Perfect. Of course his thoughts were far from the tea bag and more on the woman across from him.
“That’s my sister’s favorite tea.”
“I like her already.” She took a sip and closed her eyes, relishing the moment.
Wes had seen a lot of women in his life, but none as beautiful as the creature before him. With little to no makeup, her hair in a loose braid down her back, a blue sweater that brought out the color of her eyes, and skin kissed by the cold air making her rosy-cheeked, she was gorgeous. Like a ray of sunshine on the frigid January day.
“I apologize for being late. I was looking at the blue of the sky. It’s so beautiful and not quite what I’m used to, and I lost my footing. I slipped on some ice. To be honest, I was running late, but the sky was so perfect, I couldn’t help but…” Her voice trailed off.
“Please don’t apologize. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am. I have some trouble with my leg sometimes and falling aggravated it a bit, but I’ll be fine.”
Wes couldn’t remember the last time he’d stopped long enough to take in something as simple as the color of the sky.
“An injury?”
She tilted her head. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
She looked away for a moment as if deciding to tell him the story or not. They hardly knew one another so he couldn’t blame her if she didn’t, but he found himself wanting to know everything he could about her. The women in his world were all makeup and jewelry and perfect hair. They flirted without shame and told him more than he wanted to know most of the time. And yet, with Noelle, he found himself desiring every detail. Maybe that was why. With her there was no facade.
After another sip of tea, her eyes met his. “I was in a car accident. I broke my leg and dislocated my hip.”
Before she said anything else, Wes could guess what that meant for her as a dancer.
“I used to dance ballet in San Francisco. After the accident, my leg healed well, but dancing professionally wasn’t in the cards anymore. I had to…go another way.” She shrugged to play it off as not important but she didn’t hide the truth well. The light in her eyes dimmed as she spoke. The accident took something from her that she loved. He understood all too well. Cancer had done the same for him and his family.
He ached to pull her to him, hold her close. He took a sip of coffee instead. It was best for now to stay on his side of the table. As intrigued as he was by Noelle, he couldn’t get involved. He was leaving. Going back to New York. Drawn to her or not, he needed to keep things reined in.
“But I don’t want to talk about me. Tell me more about your being in the Bachelor Bake-Off. Annalise seems pretty excited for you.”
Her eyes twinkled again, the mug in front of her mouth not hiding her teasing grin as she went to take a sip. Oh man. Reining things in was going to be tough.
It took a moment for his thoughts to bounce from what she’d told him of her injury, to figuring out his fascination with this woman, to the dread he felt every time he thought of that Bake-Off ordeal his father had volunteered him for. Mike had made no secret of how glad he was Dad threw Wes under the bus instead of him. Merciless teasing by his brother wasn’t making the situation any easier.
“Oh yes, my dear sweet niece.”
“Why does she call you Uncle Dubs? And I noticed you call her My Lise, instead of Annalise. It’s cute.”
“Well, the Dubs nickname came from my brother, Mike, trying to explain to her the double U name for the first letter of my name and I never really thought about what I call her. It just came out one day.”
“She’s adorable.”
“She’s a whirlwind. One small child keeps all of us on our toes.”
“You said you have three siblings. Do they all live here?”
He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. Unable to remember the last time he’d talked about anything other than work or business, he embraced the easy conversation. “Mike lives here now. He moved here with Annalise after his wife, Anna, died. Lucas moves around and McKenna has a home base in New York but also isn’t one to stay in one place for too long. I’m the only one really left in New York.”
“So, what brings you to Montana?”
