Can't Fight This Feeling. Christie Ridgway
assigned to a seat beside Harper Adrian, the cutest boy in the seventh grade.
Of course, Harper had cheated off her the entire year and written a nasty note about her on the bathroom wall the last day of school.
She sighed.
Frowning, Kyle redirected his gaze to his beer as if he had his own heavy thoughts. “I like it here,” he said. “I like working with my hands and I like that it’s...simpler. Not like down the mountain.”
“I like that you like it here,” Glory said, smiling. “But it’s down the hill.”
He glanced over at her.
“You’ve got to use the proper locals’ lingo if you intend to become one. We call it down the hill.”
“Locals’ lingo...” He drained the remainder of his beer. “About that—”
A meaty hand clapped on her shoulder. “Glory girl! I didn’t see you come in.”
She stifled her groan and half turned. “Dad. Having fun?”
“Sure. But I’m glad I caught you. I think we need to have a little chat.”
“Oh, gee, Dad. I’m just about to...” What? Make another move on the total stranger? Or leave the bar and lose out on learning any more about him?
“This won’t take long.” The stool on her other side was unfortunately empty and her father slid onto it.
Glory peeked at Kyle and saw him stifle a yawn. Then he stood and withdrew some bills, leaving a nice tip for the bartender.
She was losing out on him, anyway. Her dad started yammering in her ear as Kyle sent her a smile and then tapped two fingers to his forehead in a silent goodbye. In return, she pinkie waved, saying farewell, most likely, to the most interesting thing that had come her way in months. Possibly years.
“About that bin of pumpkins...” Her father droned on. “I think they do better at the back of the store, where we’ve always kept them, not out on the sidewalk where you have to drag them in before closing every night.”
Hank Hallett didn’t like change. Glory supposed she shouldn’t be looking for anything in her life to alter either, not when she’d already predicted this very serious discussion regarding pumpkin placement.
She snuck a look over her shoulder in the direction of Kyle Scott’s exit. His hand was on the door. As he pushed it open, he glanced back. Their gazes tangled once again.
And Glory felt a new rush of hope, despite how impractical and nonsensical it might be. She sighed. Likely nothing would ever come of it.
* * *
AS THE BROTHER OF three younger sisters, Brett had a keen appreciation of male companionship. It was why he enjoyed the little ritual he’d established with his brothers-in-law-to-be. A couple of times a week, they met for morning coffee and he always looked forward to it.
It was a no-stress way to start the day, hanging with the two men who didn’t expect any more from him than the occasional comment on the news playing on the TV hanging in the corner. Brett was no less relaxed now, even though it was the first time he’d been in Oscar’s Coffee since buying Angelica hot chocolate.
He’d banished her from his thoughts.
That he dreamed of her, well, he wasn’t going to beat himself up for that. A man didn’t have control over his sleeping self. But in his waking hours he had disciplined his mind not to linger on her big brown eyes, silky hair, bountiful breasts. He didn’t think about the way her long lashes swept the pink-edged apples of her cheeks.
Her small hand, cool in his.
“What’s got that expression on your face?” Ryan Hamilton asked. “Do you need a muffin or something? The breakfast burritos are good.”
Brett glanced over. “Huh?”
“You look hungry, man.”
Guilt poked at him. Made him grouchy. Small hand, cool in his. Yeesh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, wanting to soak his head in cold water. She’s supposed to be banished from your thoughts!
A server approached, their coffees on a tray. She slid them onto the table, plucked their number from the silver holder, then sent Brett a bright smile. “Long time no see, honey.”
Blinking, he noticed it was Danielle Shore. “You’re working here now?”
She nodded, her blond hair swirling around her shoulders. “Just one shift a week. Not getting enough hours at the boutique.”
A tough time of year for the full-timers. Autumn and spring were the slow seasons in the mountains. “I hope you can stay busy, Danielle.”
Tucking the tray under her arm, she edged nearer, close enough to nudge his thigh with her knee. “I can think of things we can do to fill my spare time.”
He considered her obvious proposition. They’d dated for a few months a couple of years before. But it had faded and they’d gone their separate ways. But Danielle’s good looks hadn’t diminished in the least. She was California-mountain-girl pretty, with that blond hair, those blue eyes and the dash of cute freckles over her nose. A round two might not be a bad idea.
Some vigorous sex might be just what he needed.
He opened his mouth to suggest a dinner later that week.
But then the image of dark-haired, dark-eyed Angelica popped into his thoughts. Her mouth pursed like a kiss as she blew on the surface of her hot chocolate in this very establishment.
Their actual kiss.
It had been a very bad idea. He’d said so...out loud. But that hadn’t stopped him from reaching for her. From taking her mouth, certain and sure, as she wound an arm around his neck and pressed eagerly against his body.
It was her hair that had finally stopped him. He’d buried his hands in the silky strands and the fragrant stuff had seemed alive, winding around his fingers as if it could bind him to her.
Keep him tied up until he was helpless against her and what she could do to him.
Crush him. Suck the life from him. Break him into a million little pieces.
He’d been hurt like that once before, but he sensed that the havoc that beautiful, spoiled princess Angelica could wreak would be so much worse.
With a little smile for Danielle, he patted the pocket that contained his phone. “Maybe so,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. His interest in a date with her had evaporated. “I have your number.”
She sashayed away in tight jeans and a little T-shirt, but Brett couldn’t drum up an ounce of regret.
Across the table, Jace chuckled into his coffee. “That’s a first. Ryan Hamilton’s pretty face completely ignored in favor of Brett’s grunts and grumbles. Poppy must have put out the word that the other women around town better not even glance at you.”
Ryan, looking like the movie star he’d been, settled back in his chair and eyed the still-smirking Jace. “I’m going to tell Shay you’re dying to discuss the flower arrangements for your wedding.”
Jace winced. “Ouch. That’s pretty harsh, brother.”
“Could be worse. You don’t watch it I’ll tell her you have an opinion on her Big Day hairstyle.”
The other man groaned. “Don’t. I beg you.”
Brett shook his head at the other two. “I tried to tell you both. I counseled you, even. You shouldn’t have popped the question. There’s no need for a wedding, or a marriage even. My sisters would stick with you guys without all that hoopla.”
Jace placed his coffee on the table and turned to Brett. “I want to make promises to your sister,” he said, his voice low. “And