pulled away almost as soon as her face touched his rough cheek, resisting the urge to linger in his embrace. She’d been video-conferencing him from time to time in the past few years, but she’d only seen him in person four times since she and her mom had left Briggs. Each time it had gotten more and more difficult for her to say goodbye.
“Honey, you remember Dodge Granger,” her dad told her once they parted. She immediately recognized him and memories of him, his ranch, his barn and his sons all came rushing back.
She quickly pushed them aside.
He went to hug her, but, afraid his bear hug would instantly rekindle their friendship she stuck out her leather-clad hand instead. His big, ungloved hand encircled hers and she instantly felt the warmth of his good nature. She missed men like Dodge, genuinely kind and always willing to help. She was certain hugging the man would melt her resolve, like icicles in sunshine.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Granger,” she told him taking a step back, hoping some distance would help.
“No need to be gettin’ so formal, Bella,” he said. “Dodge is just fine.”
His gruff voice surrounded her memories like a warm blanket. She’d always liked being around Dodge. He’d taught her how to rope before she could ride a horse.
“Dodge it is.”
“I’m sure you remember his son Colt,” her dad said.
Colt tipped his hat, and held out a hand. He wore a friendly grin that she was sure could charm a girl right into his bed. He looked nothing like the tall, skinny boy she remembered, a boy who needed to grow into his big ears. He had that sexy cowboy look going on that worked on most women her age. Fortunately, not on her. She’d learned to prefer a man in a tailored suit rather than a man in jeans and cowboy boots.
“Hope the drive over wasn’t too bad,” he said, while standing next to a young boy.
“It was fine, thanks.”
He patted the boy’s head, mussing up his hair, and the child tried to move away from his touch. Colt grabbed him and the boy squealed with delight.
“This ornery little man is my son Joey.”
Joey sucked in his laughter and held out his hand for her. She’d never met a child with real manners. This was a first. She took his small hand in hers. His grip was firm and confidant, better than some executives she’d met.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Biondi,” Joey said while looking into her eyes.
“You, too,” she answered, giving him a quick smile.
Small talk had never been her forte.
She had hoped no one but a few guests would be at the inn. Why the Granger men were there stumped her. She had specifically asked her dad to make sure Travis Granger was nowhere near the inn. So why he thought it was okay for the other Grangers to show up was beyond her imagination.
No way did she want to run into Travis.
Ever.
Under no circumstances.
If her dad hadn’t agreed to keep him away, she wouldn’t have come. No way could she deal with seeing him again...all grown up...wearing butt-hugging jeans and a cowboy hat.
Nope, she could do very nicely without that meeting.
And just as she thought it, there was a loud clatter coming from up above her.
“Look out!” a male voice yelled.
She stared up as a black cowboy hat came tumbling off the roof followed by a man holding on to a thick white rope. He caught himself on the trellis that crept up the front of the building. Then in what seemed like slow motion, he lost his hold and with more hooting he slid off the trellis and reached for a low-hanging branch of the barren maple tree. He only briefly caught it then slid off that and swung toward the front porch. He put out his hands and grabbed hold of the gutter that ran around the roof of the front porch, finally stopping his momentum.
He hung there, strapped in his red harness, momentarily facing the front door.
No one moved or spoke as he slowly swung himself around to face Bella.
“Woo-hoo! That was one hell of an entrance!” he howled.
Despite the stubbly facial hair, something Bella did not usually like on a man, she knew absolutely she was gawking at a grown-up Travis Granger, and from his entrance, grown-up status had obviously completely eluded him.
She lifted an eyebrow, smirked and said, “I’m not impressed.”
Although, if truth be told, the little girl in her would have loved to be swinging on the harness with him, but she abruptly quashed that childish notion.
She walked away from him and calmly seized her father’s arm, trying her best not to show her anger in front of Travis as she guided her turncoat dad toward the lobby of the inn.
“We need to talk,” she told her dad as they padded around the dangling Travis, who smiled over at her looking every bit as sexy as she had imagined he would be. His hair color hadn’t changed much from a sandy shade of light brown, only the golden sun streaks were gone and he wore it cropped fairly short now. Despite his having worn a hat, she could tell there was a lot of style going on with all that thick hair.
She’d forgotten how gray his eyes were, the color of slate, but she hadn’t forgotten how his lips had once felt on hers, all warm and sexy. No other boy could kiss like Travis Granger. If he’d improved at all on that thirteen-year-old kiss, which looking at him now he most certainly had to, she definitely needed to get out of Briggs before the ink dried on the documents she wanted her father to sign.
Being around Travis again only deepened the wound in her heart. She’d cried enough tears over him when she first left Briggs. She sure as heck wasn’t going to go through that again no matter how perfectly his jeans hugged his butt or how hot he looked dangling in a harness.
* * *
TRAVIS LET OUT another loud whoop once Colt and Dodge rescued him. Bella had disappeared into the inn with her dad and Joey, who had followed close behind.
“That woman is a different kind of fine,” Travis cooed, every cell in his body excited about seeing Bella again.
Bella Biondi had grown into a siren of an Italian beauty with thick black hair, smokin’ hot eyes and an attitude that made him want to know exactly what she kept hidden under all that bluster.
“Maybe so, but that fine lady doesn’t seem to want any part of you,” Colt told him as he helped brush off the snow that Travis was covered in.
“There’s where you’re wrong, brother. She’s begging me to break through that hard shell of hers,” Travis said as he retrieved his hat and dusted off the snow.
“I’m thinking that there shell of hers is thicker than twelve-gauge steel, son,” Dodge said. “You’re gonna need a blowtorch to get through it. And in the end, you might be the one gettin’ burned.”
“I’ve
