My jaw dropped to the floor. I quickly closed it, not wanting to give Mr. Smug a reason to be any cockier. But he was on fire! Dressed to the nines in a black dinner jacket with a bright red vest and matching carnation in the lapel. Jaw set, Mr. Smug walked by the partiers as they looked on in awe.
How did he know that my dress was red?
Mr. Smug paused ─ and returned the compliment ─ his eyes said it all. His thorough assessment was a bit disturbing, as he took his time to study my face. His eyes lingered over my red mouth, roamed to my exposed bosom, then deliberately to my hips.
He approached, and in a husky tone, he said, “You look stunning.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
Our eyes locked; his blazing blue eyes bore into my own. We gazed at each other, not speaking. My nerves got the best of me, and I spoke to break the silence. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” I complimented him. “But you are late.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Mr. Smug blurted out in apology. His tone softened. “I thought it would be nice if we looked like a couple, so I ran to the tuxedo shop. I hadn’t planned on them being so damned busy.”
I was shocked. How did he know what color my dress was? A look of confusion grew on my face, but before I could ask, he said, “I saw inside your bags earlier when you dropped them. I figured bright red tulle was the dress you mentioned buying for tonight.”
I relaxed and nodded at him.
“I am truly sorry I am late. I was worried you would be here waiting,” he said sincerely.
“I was just getting ready to leave. Thought you weren’t coming. I’m glad that I waited.” I smiled.
“You’re glad, eh?” He smirked.
Damn him and his cocky charm. I blushed and looked down at my red heels. When I looked back up, Mr. Smug was grinning at me and holding out his arm.
“Ready?” he asked. I slid my arm into his.
“I’m Emily, by the way,” I said, remembering we’d never introduced ourselves.
“Harley Hunter,” he answered with a tip of his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Emily.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the sound of my name on his lips.
We strolled to the convention center in style, arm and arm, causing heads to turn in our direction. I held onto this Adonis’ arm and noticed how hard his muscles were. As he took each step, they flexed under my hand. The tuxedo fit him immaculately, almost as if it was made for him. I couldn’t stop glancing at him. The tuxedo was expensive, yes. But it was how Harley wore the expensive tux. He owned it. He sure knew how to dress the part.
Watching him walk beside me, I noticed his firm jawline and perfectly manicured beard. I imagined how the stubble would feel against my skin, how his smooth lips would feel against my own. A tingly feeling grew in my groin. He may be a smug, cocky frat boy, but he was incredibly handsome, and I felt incredibly lucky to be on his arm tonight.
We approached the Convention Center along with other meet and greeters. Some walked, as we had, enjoying the mild evening air. Others arrived in taxis and town cars. Everyone looked so stylish, and we fell into place entering the Grand Lobby.
This was the first time I’d been in the lobby at night. It was massive with floor to ceiling windows and bright, colorful lights beaming off the glass. It was a sight to behold.
The greeters directed us to the banquet room, which was set up on the second floor. We followed the crowd and lined up to give our names. The greeters welcomed us and invited us to enjoy the evening. The founder of the conference was due to give a speech promptly at seven o’clock, and dinner would be served soon after.
I let Harley lead the way. Truthfully, all the dapper guests and animated lights overwhelmed me. I had only attended small dinner parties with my ex, nothing with this grandeur. When we emerged into the banquet room, I was happy to see that the colors were neutral and the lighting was soft. It was beautiful. Round, candle-lit tables sparkled around the dancefloor. Two lounges, both decorated with silver lights, illuminated on either side of the room.
Harley seemed to know where he was going. He grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd. He approached a table and spoke to the couple who were seated there. Turning to me, he said “We can sit here. I met these two at the conference this morning. Billy and Victoria, this is...”
Harley paused. A frown formed on his perfect face, and I nearly laughed out loud. I blushed a little when Billy and Victoria raised their eyebrows at Harley. I found it a bit amusing that he remembered their names from the morning but had completely forgotten mine in a matter of fifteen minutes.
He was clearly shaken and embarrassed, and though part of me wanted to knock him down a peg, the pitiful look on his face made me reconsider. I’d give him that one.
I reached out my hand. “Hi, I’m Emily Mayberry.”
Billy and Victoria watched the entire scene unfold as if it were a movie. I didn’t blame them. I could just imagine. A seemingly happy couple, walking hand in hand with matching attire, and Harley couldn’t even remember my name. They probably thought he’d paid for my company.
Comical, I was sure.
Harley turned back to Billy and Victoria. They looked at me and grinned. I nodded with a smile. Harley was blushing, as he should have been. He had goofed yet again. But, somehow, all his goofing made him real. Not Mr. Smug. But, instead, Mr. Harley Hunter.
Billy stood and offered for us to sit down. We graciously accepted as a server came to ask us for drinks. I ordered a glass of White Zinfandel, which was my favorite dinner drink, and Harley ordered a bottle of beer. He sat close to me so we could hear each other over the chatter of five hundred guests. We sipped our drinks and waited for the speaker to take the stage.
Harley dipped his head close to mine to make his apology. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe I totally spaced before. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
I nodded. “I’m sure there have been so many women, it’s hard to keep track of all of the names,” I teased, unable to help myself.
He turned another shade of red and dropped his eyes. “That’s not it at all. It’s you. You fluster me,” he admitted.
“It’s fine,” I said, wanting to make him feel better.
“So, Emily” –he emphasized my name— “where are you from?”
“I’m from Olympia, Washington,” I answered. His brows rose in surprise, and I giggled. “Where did you think I’d be from?”
“I don’t know. But if I had to guess, I’d say like, Chicago or Philadelphia. You seem like a city kind of gal.”
That answer surprised me. “Me? From the big city? Nope.” I chuckled. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know…” he said, hesitating. “Because of the way you carry yourself. But I didn’t see you from a big city, like New York City. Because of the cab thing.”
I faked insult and slapped him lightly on the arm. Watching his face light up with a grin did something nice to my naughty bits.
“Well, I’m from Olympia, which is the Capitol of Washington. But it’s Washington, remember. Lots of forests, bays, and harbors. In fact, I live near East Bay. My home is beautiful.”
Harley nodded as he listened. “That sounds awesome. Just my kind of place.”
My eyes widened. I didn’t expect him to say that about Washington. Just as he pictured me as a city gal, I definitely pictured him sitting behind a desk in a big high-rise. “What about you?” I asked. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from the Blue River area in Colorado. A small town called Blue Haven.”
“Blue River, Colorado?” I repeated, shocked.
He nodded. “Straight out of the mountains.”
“The mountains?”
Harley chuckled. “Literally.”
I let my jaw hang open. “You live in the mountains?” I asked dumbly as if he hadn’t just said it twice.
Smiling, he sipped on his beer. “Yep, I’m a real-life mountain man.”
“You’re shitting me, right? You don’t look like a mountain man,” I exclaimed. Now I thought he was pulling my chain.
That got the belly laugh. I wasn’t sure why it was so funny, so I scowled at him. Seeing my face, he tried to stop laughing but failed miserably.
“I swear!” he snickered. “Of course, I don’t typically dress like this at home. But I’m in Vegas at a formal event. You didn’t expect me to be in my flannel shirt and jeans with my ax slung over my shoulder, did you?” he asked a bit sarcastically, but still smiling.
I seriously couldn’t tell if he was teasing. A mountain man? I just couldn’t see it. I mean, he was big and muscular, but could I picture him with that ax? Cutting down trees? No. He seemed too much like a pretty boy. I nodded at him, and he grinned. I don’t know what that grin meant, but I was glad when the speaker took his place on the stage.
We listened to the founder of the event speak about how grateful he was to us attending and that the event would be nothing without us. Blah, blah, blah. He seemed to drone on forever.
My stomach rumbled, and I hoped that Harley didn’t hear it. But I was starving! Looking at his handsome face, I saw that he was intently watching the speaker as he sipped his beer.
Finally, it was time for dinner. The servers appeared from nowhere, carrying large black trays. First served were fancy dinner salads. Harley smiled at me before digging into his. It was gone in two bites.
Earlier, we’d each given our server our choice of entrees. I chose Caprese Chicken, and Harley had chosen the Beef Wellington. Our meals came, and the room quieted while everyone at the delicious meal. We chatted with Billy and Victoria, who were from San Francisco, California. I should have known. Victoria was tan as hell, the exact opposite of my fair skin. It suited her, though, with her long, straight black hair. I liked them both. They were nice and seemed like a lot of fun.
After dinner, it was time for the actual meet and greet. It was expected of us to get up and mingle. The servers cleaned up and left us to fend for ourselves and to get our own drinks from the bar.
This was where it got awkward. How did one mingle when they were with a date? Did I get up and leave Harley to go greet and meet, or, did we go together? My question was answered when Harley asked if I wanted another glass of wine. I mistakenly said yes, as I should have said I’d get it myself. He left with a nod and headed to the bar alone.
I watched his self-assured gait as he strolled away. He was tall and took long strides. I watched until he was lost in the crowd, so I looked around for someone to meet. Victoria and Billy had gotten up ─ together ─ to get drinks. I was alone.
I glanced at the other nearby tables to no avail. Most people, couple or not, had risen to either get a drink, mingle, or dance. I waited for Harley to return, but the wait was tiresome.
What is he doing? I wondered. Then it dawned on me. He probably got caught up talking to someone. A good looking, successful man like himself was bound to be stopped by someone.
A successful man like himself? He’d just told me he lived in the mountains. What kind of jobs are there in the mountains that are considered successful? I had to wonder. Earlier, I’d thought that he had dressed the part, but maybe he was just acting the part.
I sighed. The evening wasn’t going as I’d hoped. I needed to do what I was here to do. I got up and started walking toward the opposite bar Harley had gone to. At this point, I was a little unnerved that he hadn’t returned. But something stopped me. No. I thought. I’m going to see what Harley’s up to. I’d really like to know how successful he actually is or is pretending to be.
I headed to the bar and spotted Harley. My breath quickened when I saw him talking to a tall redhead. Should I turn around and go to the other side of the bar? Why was I so unsure?
Think, Emily. You came with him tonight. He invited you. Why would he be upset to see you? I’m mingling, not prying. I took a deep breath and slowly released it. Breathe, I reminded myself.
As I got closer, I noticed he had two drinks in front of him on the bar, a bottle of beer and a glass of White Zinfandel. So he hadn’t totally forgotten about me. That made me feel a tad bit better. But I also needed to remember that he and I were just at a meet and greet together. This wasn’t really a date; I had no claim to his time.
I approached slowly as to not interrupt. Harley’s eyes traveled over the redhead and found mine. A seductive smile formed on his lips, and his gaze bore into me. I froze. My heart pounded. A flare of temptation welled deep inside my body. I felt my cheeks flush and told myself to look away. But I couldn’t take my eyes off his.
The redhead kept gabbing away, oblivious to the fact that Harley was seducing me with his eyes. With his lips. His gaze left my face and fell to my breasts. It lingered, and I felt him mentally undressing me. Back to my eyes, his gaze said he wanted me.
I began to sweat and nearly hyperventilated. I needed some air. I looked around for the exit, but Harley reached me as if he floated closer, his gaze fixated as he touched my arm. Silently, he handed me a glass of wine. With a nod, he motioned for me to join him at the bar. I stood beside him, and the redhead eyed me up and down.
“This is Emily Mayberry,” he introduced me to the woman, but he didn’t mention her name. I nodded, and she did the same. With a sly smile meant for Harley, she turned to talk to her girlfriend. “Sorry, I got caught up. I was hoping you would come to save me.”
I smiled and sipped my wine. A moment later, two women, one who appeared to be in her fifties, approached us. “Harley Hunter! What brings you to Las Vegas?”
Articulately dressed, the older woman held herself well and seemed like someone important. The other woman was a younger version of the first. Her daughter, I presumed. She was dressed in a black evening gown and had an attractive face.
“Ms. Bachman!” Harley replied. “And Cassie. I didn’t expect to see you two here.” He obviously knew them well.
“Cassie wanted to come. I thought it would be refreshing for me, as well,” she explained. “The worst thing you can do is get too settled in your ways. Especially with how fast things change these days.”
Harley nodded, but his eyes were on Cassie. And hers on his. How well does he know these women? He snapped out of it and turned to me. “Ms. Bachman, Cassie, this is Emily Mayberry. Emily, please meet Ms. Olivia Bachman and her daughter Cassie Bachman,” he introduced us.
“Nice to meet you both,” I responded. They responded likewise, but I saw Cassie eyeing me up. Who was she? Was it even my place to ask? Or even to wonder? I’d only known Harley Hunter for one day. A rush of jealousy coursed through my veins regardless. Down girl, he’s not yours to fight over. I turned and sipped my wine.
“What brings you here, Harley?” Cassie asked in a soft tone. “Last time we were at the resort, you seemed content. Are you looking to break away from the family business?” She tilted her head flirtatiously.
I tried not to look like I was listening too closely, but I was. I wanted to know more about this resort she mentioned and Harley’s family business.
He looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “No, I could never leave my family. I love that mountain too much. I want to expand the fitness room and add a spa. I’m just looking for the best way to make that work for the resort.”
“Oohhhh, a spa! That would be lovely,” Cassie answered, her eyes wide. “And would you be the masseuse?” she asked in a sexy tone.
Harley chuckled. “Um, no. I’ll keep on doing what I do, just on a bigger scale. I’ll have to hire someone to do the treatments and run the spa.”
“Oh, phooey.” Cassie fake-frowned then sucked on her straw in an exaggerated sucking motion. Her mother gave her a disapproving look and tried to grab her elbow.
Harley blushed, and I downed my wine. Cassie was getting on my nerves big time, though there was no reason she should. I had no claim to Harley Hunter. Though the more I learned about him, the more intrigued I became.
At first glance, Harley and
I were nothing alike. I was learning, however, that wasn’t exactly true. We were both from small mountain towns, and we were looking to start the same type of business. Who would’ve thought?
Harley tore his eyes away from Cassie and noticed my disposition. My cheeks were flushed, and I was fidgeting. I stopped jittering, but my ears still felt hot. And I needed another drink.
Harley reached for my glass and ordered two more. Ms. Bachman and Cassie were talking amongst each other before turning to Harley.
“Why don’t we do dinner before you leave? I might have a proposition for you,” Ms. Bachman invited Harley.
A proposition? Probably her daughter. Gross.
Harley handed me a fresh glass of wine and reached for his wallet. “Okay, here’s my card,” he replied, handing his card to Ms. Bachman.
“We don’t need that,” Cassie gushed and giggled. She batted her eyelashes as she added, “I have your number, Harley.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you two soon,” Harley replied, locking eyes with Cassie once again.
With one more sexy grin from Cassie, she and her mother turned and walked away. It was as if I wasn’t there.
“You okay?” Harley asked after he noticed my rosy face.
“I’m great,” I replied, trying to disguise the coldness I felt.
Why was I so upset anyway? I couldn’t stop the feeling. Harley furrowed his brow but didn’t push it.
“Do you want to dance?” he asked me.
“Dance?” I repeated.
He grinned his sexy grin. “Yes, dance with me.”
It was more of a command than a request as he whisked me by the hand from the bar. We crossed paths with our table, and he promptly grabbed the glass from my hand and placed our drinks down.
Before I knew it, I was on the dance floor, being led in a waltz. I had no idea what I was doing, so I followed Harley’s lead. It was incredible. He held me firmly and whirled me around the floor, and when the music stopped, I was out of breath. A slow song came on next, and Harley grabbed my waist and pulled me to him.
Take a Mountain Man Home for Christmas: A Mountain Man Romance Christmas Collection Page 61