Chapter 4
Brit hopped up on a bar stool and resisted the urge to twirl around. It used to be one of her favorite things when she was a kid, and she had just enough of a buzz left to feel like acting silly.
But Trent Armstrong didn’t strike her as a guy who was into silly. She wasn’t even convinced he liked her, although he’d given her a dazzling smile tonight that had curled her toes. Then he’d ignored her.
She’d been miffed about that for a while, and then she’d concluded it was for the best, with him being divorced and all.
Guaranteed he had issues. She had to watch out for her rescue tendencies, which had kicked in big time with Jeff. Big mistake. She was a dental hygienist, not a therapist. She’d be wise to steer clear of Trent Armstrong.
But damn, he was gorgeous. His New Jersey accent intrigued her, too. Since he’d insisted on seeing her safely home tonight, would it be so bad to invite him in for a nightcap?
Yes, it would. She’d been fantasizing about him all evening, and she was still slightly toasted, which tended to make her amorous.
She would not take his head-in-the-sand attitude toward dating as a challenge. She would curb the temptation to lure him out of his self-imposed exile.
That said, watching him wield a dustpan and broom, she developed a mild case of lust. Tight buns and broad shoulders had that effect on her, especially when she’d spent the evening drinking and she’d been celibate for several months.
The tunes on the sound system added fuel to the fire. When Luke Combs sang The Kind of Love We Make, she had no trouble picturing Trent stretched out on her queen-sized bed.
But despite the ringing endorsement from Ella and Faye, she didn’t consider him marriage material. Ella and Faye were absolutely right. If she wanted children, she’d better get serious about finding a husband.
“Got big plans for tomorrow?”
“You mean today?”
He kept sweeping. “Okay, then, later today.”
“Going up to Glacier National Park. It’s a family tradition for my birthday.”
“Sounds great. Should be beautiful.”
“It always is.”
“I’ll bet. Alrighty, I’m done.” Trent paused to glance at her. “I need to put everything in the kitchen, shut off the lights and fetch my jacket and hat. We’ll be going out the back door, so if you want to come with me, I’ll?—”
“Can I just wait here?” Once he was out of sight, she’d give the stool a whirl.
“Sure.” Carrying the broom and dustpan, he went behind the bar and cut off the music.
The minute he stepped into the kitchen, she spun around. When it slowed, she did it again, because with no one sitting on either side, she could really get it going.
Then Trent must have thrown the main switch, because everything went out except the security lights. How deliciously spooky. So what if he came back and found her acting like a kid? She spun faster, pushing hard against the bar as the shadows danced and blurred.
“Having fun?”
“Yep!” She grabbed the bar and stopped herself. “But now I’m dizzy. Give me a moment.”
“Take your time.” He sounded amused.
Maybe he wasn’t as straightlaced as she’d thought. “I couldn’t get away with that during business hours.”
“Oh, you could, but I’d have to clear the stools on either side.”
Carrying on a conversation in semi-darkness automatically made it more intimate. He’d also put on his Stetson, adding a heavy dose of cowboy sex appeal. “Would you clear the other two stools?”
“For the birthday girl? Of course.”
Birthday girl.It wasn’t an endearment, but close. They should probably get out of here. Sliding off the stool, she picked up her purse. “I’m ready.”
“Put this on. It’s cold out there.” He held his jacket so all she had to do was turn and slide her arms in.
She opened her mouth to protest. Wearing his jacket would coax her further down the path of an attraction she should avoid.
“Take it. I got warmed up while I was sweeping so I don’t need this. Besides, it’s your birthday.”
So it was, and rejecting his gallant gesture wasn’t very polite. “Okay. That’s sweet of you.” Setting down her purse she turned and slid her arms into the soft fabric of his suede jacket.
He settled it on her shoulders. “Let me fix the sleeves.” Moving in front of her, he expertly rolled them up so they didn’t hang past her fingertips.
His light touch made her tingly. “Thanks.” She retrieved her purse. “You do that well. Do you often loan out your jacket to short people?”
“Not really. When my sisters were little they’d wear my dad’s old shirts when they were doing art projects. I’d help with the sleeves.”
What an endearing tidbit. He’d probably picked up the birthday girl phrase from having two sisters.
“And we’re off.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and started toward the back of the building.
Hugging his warm jacket close, she fell into step beside him. “I’m guessing birthdays are a big deal in your family.”
“They are. My folks took great pains to make them special. They still try to, although it’s not so easy now that Dallas and I are out here.”
“When’s yours?”
“July 14th. They were going to celebrate it while they’re out here for the wedding, but my sister Lani’s is August 4th, so instead everybody’s coming out then and we’ll combine mine with hers.” He opened the back door.
She was instantly grateful for the loan of his jacket as she stepped into the alley behind the building. The temperature had dropped significantly. “I’m so looking forward to this wedding. I still can’t believe Desiree’s getting married.”
“I’m not positive she believes it, either. Andy does, though. He’ll make sure it happens.” Opening the passenger door, he helped her into the truck.
She was perfectly capable of getting in by herself, despite being barely five-two. But he accomplished the move before she could reach for the grab handle to haul herself up. And doggone it, she’d enjoyed being helped in.
Closing the door, he rounded the hood and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Buckled up?” He took off his hat and laid it on the dash.
“Working on it.” Even though the coat sleeves were rolled back, they kept getting in her way.
“I’ll do it.” He leaned close and took hold of the strap, bringing with him a heady combination of pine scented cologne and something more subtle that sent a rush of awareness through her body.
Her breath caught. If he turned his head, he’d be in range to kiss her.
Instead he concentrated on his task, shoved the tongue into the buckle and settled back into his seat.
“Thanks.” Was she imagining that he was breathing differently as he fastened his own seatbelt? No, she wasn’t.
“You’re welcome.” He switched on the engine and the radio played the last chords of a Shania Twain song. The full-bodied tones ended abruptly as he pushed a button on the dash.
“Could we leave it on? That sound quality is amazing.”
“Um, sure.” He tapped it again and Jason Aldean’s Burnin’ It Down poured from the truck’s top-of-the-line speakers.
Oh, boy. She was in trouble. Couldn’t get much more seductive than a handsome, wounded cowboy driving a brand-new truck with a primo sound system playing a song about sex. When the engine rumbled to life, the vibrations put her lady parts on high alert.
“I’ll need directions.” The huskiness in his voice gave him away. Whether he wanted to or not, he was having the same thoughts she was.
“Northeast corner of Maple and Stone.” She could either ignore the evidence or act on it.
Her better self urged her to ignore the tension building between them as the powerful truck rolled down the asphalt. But her better self didn’t stand a chance against Jason Aldean’s voice coaxing her to go for it.
And after all, it was her birthday.