Kent Valdez. “I’ll have what she just gulped down,” he said to Jim.
Mac showed the bartender two fingers, indicating another tequila shot was in order for herself. “Having fun, Kent?” she asked, forcing herself to sound pleasant. Not that there was anything wrong with the man or anything wrong with the obvious good time he’d been having. But she’d invited him to be her date and he’d been whooping it up with the other guests instead of hanging at her elbow, doing his part to assure everyone that Mac had a full and very satisfying romantic life.
Because the other downer she’d been dealing with lately was the astonishing and irritating revelation that her entire community still believed her to be hung up on her first love.
Who had left her and the mountains ten years before.
In order to correct that group delusion, she’d hit upon the scheme to attend each of the Walker matrimonial events—all happening in the next few weeks—with a different eligible bachelor.
She’d show everyone in the vicinity of Blue Arrow Lake that the last single Walker standing was happy and heart-whole.
The recollection of that goal plus the burn of the second tequila shot got her off the bar stool. Tugging on Kent’s hand, she towed him toward the dance floor, just as a line dance was forming. Thrusting both arms in the air, she let out a loud “Woo-hoo!” and took her place beside Angelica, who shared a grin. Then the bride stuck out her tongue at the groom, who stood on the sidelines, arms crossed over his chest and a smug half smile curving his mouth, his gaze never leaving his beautiful new wife. She laughed and blew him a kiss that he pretended to catch. Then Brett clapped his hand to his heart.
Mac froze, stricken by the romantic gesture coming from her usually reserved older brother. But when the music ramped up, she drove off the melancholy by throwing herself into the moves, hoping the old fake-it-until-you-make-it adage would blow away her doldrums.
And it worked.
Not for one instant did she leave the dance floor, finding partners for the slower dances and gyrating with her girlfriends during the fast numbers. Kent did his part, and when he begged for a breather she waved him off with her blessing and a smile. When the DJ segued into another romantic ballad, Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud,” she sidled into a shadowy corner to enjoy the song and the sight of Brett and Angelica wrapped in each other’s arms, their foreheads touching, their mouths a millimeter apart.
Closing her eyes, she tried ignoring the pang in her heart.
But the sudden sensation of a male body behind her and muscled arms crossing her waist couldn’t be disregarded. She started, but his hold tightened and a hard jaw pressed against her temple as a low voice whispered in her ear. “Just enjoy the moment.”
Only slightly swaying to the beat, he drew her closer to his solid warmth.
Goose bumps rolled down Mac’s body, hot chills of sexual response. Her breath caught in her throat. Who...?
Not Kent, because through the dancers she could glimpse him at the bar talking to Jim. Anyway, she already knew he didn’t draw this kind of reaction from her. As the sweet notes of the song wrapped around them, curiosity prodded her to turn and confront her partner, but another part of her didn’t want to disturb the strange and strangely compelling bindings that seemed to be lashing their bodies together.
His heart beat against her back.
Hers sent an urgent message to her brain. This is something special.
Mac didn’t dare disturb the magic created by the sensation of his exhalations stirring her hair. Breathing deep of his scent, she felt both bold and safe enough to lean into his strength, going so far as to wrap her fingers around his forearms covered in the fine wool of an expensive jacket.
Enjoy the moment.
She couldn’t recall the last time she’d done that. Walkers worked hard to keep their place on the mountain and she was no exception, doing everything from washing windows to sending out invoices as the proprietor of Maids by Mac. Housework wasn’t a glamorous career, but she’d never wanted anything more than to be her own woman.
Except when you longed to be Zan’s woman, a devil whispered in her head.
She kicked away the thought of Alexander Elliott. He didn’t belong in this sweet bubble of possibility. Closing her eyes again, she allowed herself to bask in the man’s scent and in the man’s heat and mused that maybe Mac Walker wasn’t destined to be single and alone, after all.
Lost in that, she missed the ending of the song until the loud shriek of the mic yanked her out of her reverie. The DJ began speaking and she dropped her hold on the stranger behind her. But just as she turned to look at him, her sister Shay’s stepdaughter-to-be, London, grabbed Mac’s hand and hauled her onto the dance floor.
“Wait!” Mac glanced around, trying to find her partner, but she was already surrounded by a bevy of other women. “What’s going on?”
“The bouquet toss, silly,” London said in an excited voice, having lost her usual teenage insouciance somewhere after the I do’s.
Mac groaned. The tradition was embarrassing and one she did her best to avoid. But London had begged Angelica to include the custom and the kid had Mac’s wrist in a viselike grip. She tried tugging free. “Why don’t I get Shay and Poppy out here,” she suggested, naming her two engaged sisters. Once away from the teenager, she’d actually go on the hunt for her sexy stranger.
“They already have rings on their fingers,” London said. “This is for us.”
“You’re too young to get married,” Mac replied. “And I’m too...”
Hung up on Zan Elliott, the devil murmured again.
Instead of shrieking in frustration, Mac gave up. The absurd ritual couldn’t take long, right? Then she’d find the stranger and do...what?
Throw herself at him?
Maybe, she decided, reliving the sensation of him surrounding her. Reliving that so unusual—for her—trust she’d felt leaning against his larger body.
The women around her were chattering and the DJ was making noises into the mic, but Mac ignored the sounds, her thoughts focused on that man. Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she turned her head.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in complete surprise.
There, beyond the tight clutch of women, a figure stood in profile. A figure she hadn’t seen in ten years and who was more muscled than when he’d left, but one she’d recognize anywhere.
And one she should have known when he stepped up behind her to whisper in her ear.
Just enjoy the moment.
Heat rose from her chest and flamed up her throat to her face as she recalled how quickly she’d relaxed in his hold. What did he think of that? And why would he have...have ambushed her in that way at this important event?
As if sensing her regard, his head turned, too, and their gazes met. His mouth quirked, stopping somewhere between a smirk and a smile.
Her temper kindled. What gall! What gall to show
