Page 8 of Falling Together

Taking a chance, I move one stool closer to her. Based on the way she turns to face me, I don’t think she minds.

“So what do you do around here? Are you the event planner?”

“Why would you think that?” she asks.

This time, it’s her moving closer to me. There’s exactly one barstool between us, and suddenly I’m finding that to be too much space.

“Considering you said you were hosting a wedding, I only assumed.”

The corner of her mouth ticks up in a smile. “You know what they say when you assume.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I laugh.

“I mean, do you think I’d be a good event planner if I let some kids rattle me?”

I glance down at the stain on her dress. It’s not as bad as earlier, but still, not great. “I’d also think you’d have a change of clothes just in case.”

“I did, but I don’t think wearing sweatpants to my friend’s wedding would’ve been a great look.”

“Spaghetti stains it is, then?” I ask, sipping my beer.

“Everyone always does say I’m a trendsetter.”

“I see. That’s what you do then?”

She shakes her head, drinking down more of her bourbon. I watch as her throat moves. There’s something entrancing about it. Hell, about everything this woman does. I’ve only been talking to her for a few minutes, but I like it. It’s definitely turned this shitstorm of a day around.

“Cowgirl.”

“Seriously?”

She nods. “What, I don’t look like one?”

This time, I let my eyes rake over her. Over her biceps. The swell of her breasts in that damn dress of hers. The way one leg is elegantly crossed over the other.

Right down to her tan cowboy boots.

“I’ve never met a cowgirl, so I have no idea what one looks like.”

“I wanted to see what you’d say.” She laughs. “I work in the barn. I run a therapy program for kids, and when I’m not doing that, I help with the trail rides here.”

“So a cowgirl.” I wink at her.

“It’s what I do best.”

“Care to show me?”

She looks behind her through the French doors, where a light dusting of snow is still coming down. Even this late, it’s still bright out because of how much snow is on the ground.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to take the horses out.”

I down the rest of my beer and move to the seat closest to her. My jean-clad knee brushes against hers, and I don’t miss the way her eyes focus on the point of contact.

Oh, yeah.

This makes my next move easy.

“I have a better idea, if you’re up for it.”