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Black, tailored slacks encased perfectly thick thighs and a bulge. She was such a perv for letting her eyes wander, but damn, what a man.
A man that looked straight out of a romance novel reached up and palmed his Stetson to reveal midnight black hair a little wild on top and neat and tidy along the sides. He moved closer.
The thud of his heavy steps jarred her out of her own brain and put a fire in her legs.
Boots, no spurs to be found. She smiled to herself.
If looks could freeze a woman’s brain it happened to her. Fate liked to mess with her that way. As she came to the last stair, three things came to be in that one second.
She’d been so preoccupied with her rival the lack of shoes didn’t even hit her radar.
The lack of even the most basic of makeup. And that wedding planners couldn’t fly.
She had less than a millisecond to wish the floor would swallow her whole.
But no such luck. Instead, warm muscular arms wrapped around her as a hard chest cushioned her fall when she missed the last stair. Best way to meet new clients: Your nose buried in their taut pecs.
She had to admit this option felt infinitely better than the floor eating her whole would have.
“You must be Juniper Winter?” His chest rumbled with humor and sent a shiver straight through her.
Fingers wound around thick biceps, Juniper dared to raise her gaze high, and then a little higher until she found bright blue eyes lit with mirth and full lips pulled into a curious smile.
She forced a smile of her own and tried to push up, move away. Put some distance between her red face and his gaze. He didn’t let any of that happen.
He held her a little too tight, a little too close, and smelled a whole lot like a sinful temptation in boots.
“As introductions go,” he whispered close to her ear. “I think that was the best one I’ve ever had.”
Somewhere between her misfortune and him saving her, his hat ended up on the ground. She slowly pulled from his arms and the feel of his hands leaving her body nearly made her whimper.
He bent to retrieve it and her face burned brighter.
“Umm…thank you. I’m not normally so klutzy.”
“That’s all right, Juniper. May I call you Juniper?” He tilted his head forward a bit at his inquiry.
A rarity and completely swoon-worthy. God, save her. What movie set had she stepped onto?
This man and his manners certainly had her lady parts all fired up. Her heart needed to take a back seat in this conversation because since he walked in her door, it sat firmly in her throat at a steady one hundred miles an hour.
The cologne he wore screamed money but his eyes said he enjoyed the small things in life. Coffee, good conversation, slow, heated kissing on an abandoned beach and wouldn’t you know it, she knew the perfect one.
Slow your roll, Juniper. You’re reading into this way too much.
“I’m sorry you have me at a disadvantage, but yes, by all means. Juniper is fine.” She put her hand out between them.
“It seems it’s my turn to apologize. I’m Marshall Blackwood.”
“Marshall,” she repeated.
His deep, smooth voice held a hint of a drawl.
His larger hand engulfed hers. Warm from the leather glove he slipped off seconds ago and a little rough, which contradicted the dapper look he sported.
“And this is Stella, my?—”
“Fiancée,” the woman offered before the cowboy could get the word out.
