“Brock…”
“Honestly, I think this is an amazing idea.”
Truth. Absolute truth. Rory could get her recital, and our city could get a cultural event, something we’ve never had before. And why am I suddenly interested in cultural events?
Because it would please Rory. My God…
“I’m loving this idea,” I continue. “What do we need?”
“Well, first of all, we need an event location. We don’t have an auditorium in Snow Creek.”
“We have a cinema.”
Rory pauses a moment, cocks her head. “You know, that could actually work.”
“Of course it could work. A lot of cinemas rent out their space for conferences and workshops. Why not a recital?”
She twists her lips, her head still tilted.
“What else?”
“I’ll need an accompanist. On piano.”
“Surely someone in Snow Creek plays piano.”
“No. I would need a professional accompanist. One who knows all the classical and musical theater pieces.”
“Okay, we’ll bring someone in from Grand Junction.”
“And…”
“Yeah?”
“I need a dress. A cocktail dress.”
“Easy enough. Not in Snow Creek, of course, but here in the city you can find anything. What about music?”
“I have plenty of sheet music, including the piano accompaniment. That won’t be a problem.”
“Let’s do this, then.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “You’re crazy.”
“I’ve been called that before.”
“No one in Snow Creek is going to be interested in this.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because no one in any big city was interested in me, Brock.”
“Hey, I was just in middle school at the time, but I seem to recall you starring in every high school musical to a packed house.”
“That’s because all the people who came had kids in the chorus or in the play.”
“So? I think this can work, Rory. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it could.”
Her face shines with radiance. Her beautiful full lips curve upward. And her eyes—those big brown eyes that could melt the snow caps on Pike’s Peak—look happy. She wants this.
And I want to give it to her.
“Let me do this for you,” I say.
“Why? Why would you want to put something like this together? Just for me?”
“Because of the look on your face right now.”
Her rosy cheeks pink further. I reach forward, trail my finger over one. Then I touch the long strands of her hair. So beautifully brown and soft.
God, I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss a woman in my life.
And rather than frightening the hell out of me, the thought makes me feel…right.
Just right.
“The Three Bears,” I murmur.
“Three bears? What are you talking about?”
“Just right,” I say. “I feel just right.”
She smiles, and I trail my index finger over her glossy bottom lip.
And I’m determined, right then, that I’m not going to take her into my bed tonight. No. I’m going to savor this.
Savor every moment.
And also, I’m going to produce a recital for her. Brock Steel, producer. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but I can get help from her brother, Jesse, on sound. Plus, the cinema has a built-in sound system. I can find an accompanist in Grand Junction. We’ll need to put together rehearsals, and we’ll need to work on scheduling.
Thanksgiving is coming in a couple of weeks. Perhaps that could be the theme.
Or maybe we wait and make it a holiday recital, for Christmas. After all, Thanksgiving is Uncle Ryan and Aunt Ruby’s anniversary. We’ll be having a big party.
Ideas flow through my head, exciting me.
Totally crazy. Never in my life have I been interested in entertainment production of any kind, but at this moment, it’s all I can think about.
“You’re beautiful,” I say. “And I’m not just talking about what’s on the outside.”
Rory takes the last sip of her cognac and meets my gaze, her brown eyes smoldering. “How’d you like to get out of here?”
I smile. She’s inviting me to take her to bed. I’m not shocked. Our chemistry so far has been off the charts.
And of course a certain part of me is really fond of the idea.
But…
It’s not the right time. Even though I want it more than anything, it’s not the right time. Which is so strange, because it’s always the right time to have sex as far as I’m concerned. Especially sex with the most beautiful woman on the planet.
I take her hand, rub my thumbs into the softness of her palm, nod to the bartender to close out our tab, and then I lead her out of the bar, out of the hotel, to my car.
We don’t talk much as we drive back toward Snow Creek. To my own surprise as well as hers, I make the turn toward the Pike Ranch.
“Brock?” she says.
“Yes?”
“Don’t you want to…”
“More than I want to breathe.”
“You know my parents are home. Maybe Jesse and Callie too.”
I nod. “I know.”
“Don’t you live in your family’s guesthouse?”
“I do.”
“Then shouldn’t we—”
I stop in her driveway. Then I turn, cup one of her cheeks. “Not like this,” I say.
“Not like what, exactly?”
I kiss her then. Slide my lips over hers, let our tongues touch briefly. My cock is at attention—it has been since her meat comment early in the evening—and I’m ready to go everywhere—over her nipples, her beautiful skin, between her legs to taste her most secret treasures.
She leans into me, tries to deepen the kiss.
I pull back.
She lifts her eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“Maybe this evening didn’t mean as much to you as it meant to me,” I say.
She doesn’t reply. Just lifts her eyebrows a bit farther.
“I don’t want to be your rebound guy.”
“Who said anything about a rebound?”
“You just got out of a relationship. I don’t want to be the rebound sex.”
“Oh… Okay.” She turns and throws her back against the passenger seat.
Great. I pissed her off.
“I’d like to fuck you into tomorrow right now.”
“Why don’t you, then?”
“I think I just told you.”
“What if I’m only looking for a rebound guy?”
Man. Boner killer. But I’m sticking to my guns. “Then you’ve got the wrong man.”
“The entire town would say I’ve got exactly the right man.”
“The entire town would be wrong, then. This time.”
She sighs. Then she opens the passenger door and hops out.
“Wait.” I hop out of my own side. “Let me walk you to the door.”
“What’s the point?”
She whisks away, walking alone to the door.
I turn toward her to keep up. Sure, I may be a womanizer, but I’m also a gentleman. I have always walked a woman to the door. Usually my door, but hey… Things change.