“Not sure how I helped, but you’re welcome.”
“How is not important, but you did. I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow?”
“Yep. Looking forward to it.”
“Me, too. Thanks for the drink and the commiseration.”
“Right back atcha.”
He watched her walk away until she disappeared into the deepening twilight, captivated by her natural poise and subtle confidence. He stayed at the bar, had more than a few beers, and chatted with Pat but ignored the other customers who came and went. Melanie and the paternity test hovered at the edges of his thoughts, but for the first time in three weeks, he wasn’t consumed by them; he was too captivated by the enchanting Lindsay Miller. As the night wore on and his senses dulled with alcohol, he wondered if he’d imagined their entire conversation. Recalling her almost shy invitation to get to know him, he sincerely hoped not.
At ten, Pat closed the restaurant and the bar and drove Henry home. When Henry climbed out of the passenger seat, Pat leaned across the cab and said, “I’ll stop down and pick you up on my way to the C Diamond tomorrow morning so you can get your truck.”
“Thanks, Pat. For driving me home, picking me up tomorrow… and for listening.”
“Any time, Henry. That’s what friends are for. And hey, it’s heartbreaking that Dylan isn’t your son, but now you’re free to find the kind of good woman you’ll want to spend the rest of your life with.”
A good woman, Henry mused as he climbed the steps to his front deck with surprisingly steady legs. Maybe he should ask Pat in the morning what a good woman was like because he couldn’t say for sure, but Pat had certainly found one in his wife, Aelissm. The thought stayed with him while he prepared for bed. As he crawled between his sheets, he decided he was glad he hadn’t declined Lindsay’s offer to join him for a drink because her openness and honesty was, right then, very appealing. And if those two traits are a good place to start, Lindsay might just be one of those good women Pat mentioned.
Chapter Three
WITHIN FIFTEEN MINUTES of arriving at the Carlyles’ ranch house, Lindsay wished she had thought to pack a button-up shirt for the day of Evie’s wedding. The yellow, curve-hugging dress she wore was the only thing she’d brought that could be taken off without pulling it over her head when it was time to change into her bridesmaid dress, but it was entirely impractical for setting up for the wedding. At the moment, Livia had her hauling chairs out to the backyard. Everyone else who had already arrived to assist was out front setting up tables and the dance floor for the reception or in the kitchen finishing up the food prep, so she was alone, but Livia had promised to send any new arrivals out to aid her.
At least she’d had the forethought to wear flat sandals. She couldn’t imagine how difficult and slow it would be trying to set out two hundred and some folding chairs on this lush, squishy lawn in heels.
Pretty comical, too, she mused as she hauled the last two chairs for the first row into place and unfolded them.
“Livia says you might appreciate some help.”
She straightened, and a smile lifted her lips as she turned to the owner of the newly familiar voice. Henry strode toward her with two chairs in each hand and that same charming lopsided grin. Desire uncurled inside her, yawning and stretching after a long dormancy, and her pulse jumped as she took in the sight of him. He was again dressed in a white T-shirt, jeans, and work boots, but today he’d added a straw cowboy hat to the casual ensemble. The dim lighting of the Bedspread Inn’s restaurant last night hadn’t given her as clear an impression of him as she’d thought, and as she took in every line of him in the brilliant morning sunlight, she nearly let out a whistle. The man was pure sex appeal without a trace arrogance.
“Well, howdy stranger,” she drawled. “Fancy meeting you here.”
His smile turned slightly sheepish. “When Livia mentioned you were out here by yourself, I may have volunteered to help you with these before I head out front to help my brothers with the picnic tables.” He leaned the chairs against his legs and handed one to her. “Something tells me you’ll be much more interesting company. At the very least, you’re certainly more attractive company.”
“And here I was just chastising myself for not packing something more practical for the pre-wedding activities.” She glanced down at her sunny yellow dress with its flirty hem and neckline and laughed. “To think there was a time I wouldn’t be caught dead in a dress.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
She snorted and unfolded another chair. “I know, it’s hard to believe since that’s all you’ve seen me in, but before I bowed down to the pressures of society, I—”
“Bowed down to the pressures of society? You don’t seem the type to bow down to anyone or anything.”
“Okay, let’s say then that I bowed down to my poverty. I figured out I got better tips when I wore dresses and skirts instead of slacks. I’m still not fond of them, though.”
“I take it you were a bit of a tomboy growing up.”
“Total tomboy.”
Henry glanced over her with a brow lifted. “Not sure I believe that, either.”
“I was one of the managers for my high school football team because that was the next best thing to playing. Skye was the other manager, though she spent most of her time taking pictures. That’s what got our feet in the door, so to speak—her photography. She asked me if I wanted to manage with her, and how could I say no?” Lindsay grinned. “It was damn fun.”
“Mel hates football, so I find this revelation entirely fascinating.”
“Max doesn’t like it, either. In fact, he hates it. He prefers baseball, which—I’m sorry—bores the hell out of me.”
“You and me both,” Henry replied. “Are you still a football fan?”
“Diehard. I’ve never really gotten into the NFL, but I love watching a good high school or college game, and Skye and I go to a couple Husky games together each year. Our folks have season tickets.”
“Okay, I have to ask because you’ve mentioned her twice. Who is Skye?”
“Skye Hathaway. She’s my other best friend. I don’t think you’ve met her yet, but she’s renting your folks’ vacation cabin for the next six weeks, and you might have spotted her last night at the Bedspread Inn. She’s the tall brunette.”
“Ah, no, I’m sorry. I don’t remember her from last night. I must’ve been too distracted by you.”
Lindsay looked up at him with an amused smile. “Are you always such a flirt?”
“I try. I hope you don’t find it offensive.”
“Not at all. I’m actually rather enjoying the flattery. It’s not often I get to feel like a girl anymore. Most of the time, I’m Mom.”
“And I’m sure you’re a great one, so enjoy the attention for a bit.”
“Thanks… again.”
“You’re welcome. Speaking of your son and turning back to football, I’m going to go out on a limb here and bet he’s is big fan, too.”
“I don’t know if he’s as big a fan as I am yet, but he’s always liked watching it and going to games… and he started Peewee football last year, which he loves. He wants to play again this year.”
“How’d that go over with the ex?”
“Not well, but it was Noah’s idea.” Lindsay scooted another chair into position, then looked up and grinned smugly. “It’s probably terrible of me, but I was pretty proud when he tried tee ball—at Max’s insistence—and hated it.”
“From what you’ve told me so far about your ex, I’d probably feel the same in your shoes… or sandals,” Henry said, making a show of leaning over to take note of her foot wear. He winked. “They look pretty practical to me.”
“You wait tables long enough, and fancy, uncomfortable shoes lose their charm,” she explained. “So, what about you? You seem to appreciate my football fandom, which makes me think you’re a fan yourself. Did you play?”
“Yep to both. I played Little Guy all the way on up thr
ough college. Occasionally, I stepped in at running back, but mostly I played cornerback. What position is Noah playing?”
Lindsay smiled. “Running back, but I think his coach may try him at cornerback this year.”
“A kid after my own heart.”
They fell into an easy silence as they set out chairs in row after row around the as-of-yet undecorated arbor where Vince and Evie would become husband and wife in a few short hours. Lindsay found that she enjoyed working quietly with Henry every bit as much as she delighted in their playful banter. She felt no pressure to engage in meaningless small talk, and at the same time, she knew that anything they said wouldn’t be meaningless.
After a while, she asked Henry what he did for work, and he informed her that he had worked as a welder and machinist in Denver but had quit to move back to Northstar following the results of the paternity test. Unwilling to taint the beautiful day, Lindsay redirected the conversation to other interests and discovered that, in addition to football, they shared several other passions including classic rock music, books in the fantasy and science fiction genres, and action adventure and fantasy movies. When he made a comment about her being every man’s perfect woman, she snorted.
“So far, I haven’t seen proof of that,” she murmured.
“Then you must be dating the wrong men.”
“Apparently so.” She laughed softly. “Thanks.”
“Just keeping up the tradition you started last night. Speaking of which, I forgot to ask how long you’d be in Northstar.”
“Eight more days. I fly out of Butte next Sunday when Vince and Evie leave for their honeymoon.”
“Eight days. That’s it?”
“Yep.”
“What do you have planned for those eight days?”
“I don’t really know, but I think Evie just wants to hang out for most of it. We don’t get to see each other much now that she’s out here.”
“I imagine not. I guess I’ll have to ask the bride what her plans for you are.”
Lindsay tilted her head. “Why are you so curious?”
“Well, we agreed that we’d like to get to know each other while you’re here, right?”
“Yes….”
“I am thoroughly intrigued by you, Lindsay Miller. Your openness is refreshing, so I’m going to have a talk with your friend and do a little scheming. In the meantime, we’re done here, so I should probably head out front to help my brothers with those picnic tables.”
All at once, Lindsay realized that they had indeed finished setting out the chairs and felt a pang of disappointment that Henry would be leaving her momentarily. Gallantly, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.
“Until later, my lady.”
She watched him until he disappeared around the house, captivated by his relaxed stride, then sighed and headed inside to see where she was needed next. Livia was in the living room with Evie and Skye going over the specific shots they wanted. Lindsay waited politely for them to finish before she inquired about her next assignment.
“I think it’s probably time for you girls to start getting ready,” Livia replied. “So, Skye, you should probably go track down your assistant. I believe he’s out front helping with the tables. While you’re doing that, Lindsay can help Renée and Evie get everything laid out and ready.”
“Remind me again. What is my assistant’s name?”
“Luke Conner,” Evie answered. “He’s the tallest and youngest of the blonds out there and pretty hard to miss.”
“All right. I’ll be back.”
Skye zipped out of the house. Lindsay stared briefly after her with a wistful twist of her lips, wishing she could have gone in her friend’s place. It was silly, she knew, because she’d likely have many opportunities to sneak in a word or two with Henry Hammond throughout the day.
“Oh, sugar,” Livia said. “I forgot I was going to have her ask if we can send the centerpieces out. Lindsay, dear, would you mind?”
“Of course not,” she replied quickly. A little too quickly, perhaps, if Evie’s quirked brow was any indication. Before her friend could question her, she trotted out the door after Skye.
They located Skye’s assistant photographer with the Hammond brothers and a dark-haired man Lindsay didn’t recognize. Like Evie had said, Luke Conner was easy to spot, standing a good three or four inches taller than Henry and his brothers, who weren’t exactly short at six-foot or so. He was boyishly handsome with golden hair styled in a center-parted bowl cut and a lean, athletic build that made Lindsay certain he played some sport or other in college.
“Pardon the interruption,” she said when she and Skye reached the group.
Henry glanced up from his task and grinned. “What can we do you for?” he asked.
“Mrs. Carlyle wants to know when she should start sending out table runners and centerpieces,” Lindsay replied lightly so as not to reveal the rush of heat and anticipation triggered by the insinuation beneath his words. Still, she couldn’t help but glance appreciatively over him. They hadn’t openly discussed the topic that had been flirting with her mind since she’d first seen him last night, but that didn’t mean either of them was unaware of it. Last night hadn’t been right, but if Lindsay had her way, she’d find out if he was as good in bed as his strong, capable hands and easy, rocking gait led her to hope.
“This is the last load,” Henry answered.
From the corner of her vision, she caught the amusement on the face of his brother, who looked to be the same age as Henry, and the warmth of embarrassment climbed her neck. Reminding herself that she was a grown woman and not a young girl who’d been caught at something naughty, she turned her attention more fully to him. Were he and Henry twins? Fraternal, if so. They certainly weren’t identical, though they were similar enough in appearance that no one would doubt they were brothers. There was one difference, however, that she noted immediately. Henry exuded energy with a hint of simmering anger and resentment while his twin was reserved with an air of deep-seated sadness. He glanced away, his attention drawn to Skye, who met his gaze with a coy smile and blush pinkening her cheeks.
Interesting, Lindsay mused.
“Tell Livia she can start sending the decorations out,” the dark-haired man added, interrupting her observation.
Skye at last shifted her attention from Henry’s twin to the tall, young man and said, “Evie described my assistant as the tallest and the youngest of the blonds, so I’m guessing you’re Luke Conner.”
“You must be Skye,” the kid replied. “When do you need me?”
“Right now if you can be spared. The families want some pictures of everyone getting ready, and since I’m in the need-to-get-ready camp….”
Luke glanced at his companions, silently asking if he was free to go.
“We can handle these last eight tables,” Henry’s older brother, Nick, replied.
Lindsay turned to follow Luke and Skye back to the house, but Henry stopped her.
“We just keep bumping into each other, don’t we,” he remarked.
“We do, but I don’t know that I’d call it ‘bumping.’ That implies it has happened by accident, but I’m pretty sure it’s been intentional every time.”
“So it has,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “I have a thought about this getting-to-know-each-other idea. Luke’s starting in his first college football game on Saturday.”
“He plays football?” She glanced over her shoulder at the young man. “Why am I not surprised? Quarterback?”
“How’d you guess?”
“He’s tall and lean, has strong, graceful hands, and I’d bet he’s pretty quick both on his feet and with his head. As far as I can tell, he’s what my dad would call an ideal quarterback.”
“You really do know your football,” Henry said, obviously impressed.
“Obsessive might have been a more fitting term back in the day.”
“I like dedicated better. Anyhow, a bunch of us from Northstar—including,
I believe the bride and groom—are going. Care to join me?”
Before Lindsay could respond, Henry’s twin barked, “Henry!”
“I gotta go,” Henry said quickly. “Think about it?”
“I will definitely think about it,” Lindsay replied. “I’ll find you later.”
So she didn’t get him in any more trouble with his siblings, she hurried after Skye. Just as she passed out of earshot, she heard him utter something under his breath that made her beam.
* * *
“Hot damn,” Henry said softly.
Lindsay was as beautiful as she was intriguing in that cheerful yellow dress, which showed off proud, graceful shoulders and long, toned legs and hugged a trim, exquisitely feminine body. He knew it was stupid in the extreme, but he couldn’t seem to tell her no. He had a pretty good idea of what she wanted—a brief, casual affair—but instinctively he knew it wouldn’t be a purely physical romp. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could disassociate her heart from sex. With her, it would be making love, and he wasn’t sure he could set his anger aside long enough to let that happen.
“Would you quit thinking with your dick long enough for us to finish this?” Aaron snapped.
Henry jerked back in shock, but surprise quickly gave way to anger as his temper flared. Aaron had no room to talk. If anyone in his family could understand the anguish boiling in Henry’s heart, it would be his twin, whose wife had died in his arms nearly half a decade ago after being shot in the chest. But no, Aaron was still too wrapped up in his own grief to give a passing thought to anyone else. He’d been a different man since Erica’s death—sullen and withdrawn, going through the motions every day instead of living. Like someone had opened a door in his mind, Henry realized that he’d needed his twin’s understanding over the past three weeks, but a rift had opened up between them that had prevented him from seeking it. Anger darkened into bitter and helpless fury.
“Maybe you oughta start thinking with yours again so you wouldn’t be such an uptight ass all the damned time,” he retorted and stalked away a few paces.
Once Burned Page 4
