the woman and Gavin and assessing glance. “Nope, not confused. In fact, I would say you’re a good foot or so off from actually being in the line. Maybe more.” She nudged—nudged—Gavin’s arm. “Wouldn’t you say that’s about a foot? More or less?”
And damn if he didn’t have to work hard not to laugh out loud at the woman’s expression. “Easily a foot. More or less,” he confirmed.
Without another word, the woman eased herself into line. And Haley … well, she winked at him, and muttered something about ignorance he couldn’t quite make out under her breath.
He knew it was dumb. He knew it didn’t mean a damned thing. But the fact was, the sweetheart of Steamboat Springs, Colorado, had just done something only two other people in his life had ever before done. She’d stood up for him. And that made her different.
What was that word Russ would use to describe Elaine? Gumption. That was it. “Boy,” he’d say, usually after Elaine had rightly torn into his hide about one thing or the other, “that woman’s got gumption, and a woman with gumption is a helluva lot more important ten, twenty, thirty years down the road than anything else she might have once had. Remember that.”
And yep, he’d remembered. Now, looking at Miss Haley Foster and the spunky, satisfied grin she wore, it was easy to see that she was damn near overflowing with the stuff, with gumption. Before he went and said something to that effect, or something equally ridiculous, he gave her a quick nod and faced front again.
Not being able to see her didn’t wipe the look of her out of his head, though. He felt her, too, in every ounce of his body, deeper than bone. Not so different, really, than the warmth of the sun saturating into his skin. Natural. Life-affirming. Real.
He let those words tumble around for all of thirty seconds before booting them out. She was a woman he didn’t know—not really—and she didn’t know him. So nope, she hadn’t stood up for him, she’d asked a damn question. That was all. And comparing her physical presence to the friggin’ sun? Where had that idiotic thought come from, anyway?
Didn’t matter. None of it.
What did matter was obtaining Lola’s assistance. Gavin returned his focus to that and started mentally rehearsing his speech again, all the while pretending that the warm buzz cascading over him, through him, had nothing to do with the female standing behind him.
Not one damn thing.
Gavin’s flannel-shirt-covered back, every long and broad muscular inch of it, was so still, Haley couldn’t determine if the man was even breathing. Disappointment, sharp and strong, cut into the anticipation that had been fizzing and popping in her blood. What had she thought would happen? That they’d strike up a conversation because she’d confronted the standoffish woman?
Yes, actually, that was what she had thought.
She chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at that long, broad back. Considered tapping his arm and just start talking. Ask him a question. Mention how nice the day was, how it was slowly warming up outside. Find out if he was a coffee or a tea drinker, or … Okay. Something less boring. Something less … predictable. Maybe she should just faint dead away at his feet and hope he’d pick her up and carry her off to wherever he lived and … and … have his way with her?
Really? She shook her head, tried to erase the image, but the darn thing refused to vanish. Warmth flooded her cheeks and dripped down her neck. A tight ball of heat gathered in her stomach, low and heavy and almost throbbing in its intensity, reminding her of how long it had been since she’d last experienced that particular sensation.
Desire. Longing. The need to be touched.
And wow, wasn’t it just awesome that she’d have this experience now, here in the middle of the freaking coffee shop, over a man she barely knew, after the briefest, most innocent of encounters? Pitiful. Embarrassing. Maybe even a little sad.
But also … interesting? Yes, that, too.
The line moved again while she pondered, considering the complexities and the simplicities of the signals her body seemed hell-bent on sending her way. A chemical response, surely, since she didn’t know Gavin. She didn’t know where he came from, what his goals were, what his favorite foods were. She knew he skied, considered himself able to teach others how to ski. She knew he’d moved into the area sometime before December.
And that was the sum of her knowledge.
So, okay. A chemical response. Nothing more, nothing less. Her eyes traveled the length of him, from his untucked charcoal flannel shirt, to his denim-covered legs, to his heavy leather hiking boots. Easy to see all were clean. Well-worn, too. The jeans, the shirt, they fit his body as if he’d been wearing them, had worked and played in them, for so long that they’d formed to his shape. No other man would be able to wear those jeans and that shirt quite so well.
She looked up and up, and up some more. His hair was straight, except for the slight wave at the ends, and fell a few inches below his collar. Either he’d put off going to the barber or he was in that awkward growing-out stage. Probably the former. She tried to determine the accurate word for the color of his hair. Brown did the job, she supposed, but it wasn’t nearly enough. In her mind, brown in and of itself was a flat, drab shade, holding little depth, little light, little of interest. But Gavin’s hair was filled with light. It was thick and lustrous, rich with hues of chestnut and coffee, chocolate and cinnamon, and the odd golden strand here and there.
So, no. Brown didn’t begin to cut it.
Beautiful, maybe. And she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if that straight line of beautiful hair was as soft to the touch as it looked.
Sad and pitiful, for sure, to be gawking at a stranger’s hair and wishing she could touch it. Haley shook her head and forcibly pulled herself out of her inane thoughts. Maybe Suzette had been right all along. Maybe a date with Matt the teacher was exactly what she needed.
The line moved again, and the standoffish woman gave her order. For whatever reason, Lola didn’t drop into her normal banter, just asked what type of milk the woman wanted and prepared the cappuccino. The woman accepted her coffee, paid and stepped away quickly, without so much as a glance in either Gavin’s or Haley’s direction.
And that also struck Haley as sad. Why, though, she couldn’t say.
Gavin approached the counter, stopped and turned to face Haley again. This time, she noticed his eyes. Good Lord, the man had a gorgeous set of peepers. Again, she had to search for the right description. They were gray, except they weren’t. And they were blue, except not really that, either. She sighed. Mostly gray with the barest hint of blue. If a name for that exact color, in that precisely right combination of gray and blue existed, she didn’t know what it was.
Beautiful would have to suffice there, as well.
“Your turn,” she said, trying desperately to stop staring into his eyes.
“Actually,” he said in a low drawl that made her skin tingle, her pulse hum, “you should go first. I might be a few minutes. Need to talk with Lola about a … Well, you should go first.”
“No, no. I’m fine.” If she went first, she’d have to walk away, and she wasn’t quite ready to walk away. “You’re ahead of me. That’s the way lines work.”
He
