by Tracy March
Collin stepped into the bathroom—pale gray with classic black-and-white tile on the floor, white subway tile in the shower, and a marble vanity beneath an antique-framed mirror.
He took look around. “I’ll bet this is almost as nice as the Shower House at RMBL.” He winked.
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Almost. I’ll have to ask Brian, just to be sure.” She gestured toward the shower. “It’s all yours.” She closed the door, crossed the hall, leaned back against the wall, and exhaled for what felt like the first time since Collin had kissed her.
What have I gotten myself into?
As the water started running, she went into her bedroom and took off her wet clothes, wondering if she could rewind things a little. Despite the dirty-hiking-clothes thing, the chemistry was still there with Collin.
And so is the “temporary” thing.
Nothing had changed with his situation, so it was best to back off.
Right?
The water stopped running, and Ellie hurried to grab her robe. She put it on, tied the belt tightly, and checked in the mirror to make sure that the light blue velour wasn’t see-through. Her wet tunic and camisole had revealed enough to Collin…
For now?
Within moments, Collin opened the bathroom door, and the fresh smell of soap and shampoo wafted into her bedroom. She braced herself for the sight of him in his damp, stained hiking pants—what else did he have to put on? For his sake, she hoped he’d ditched his wet underwear and decided to go commando.
Ellie opened her closet and tried to decide on an outfit to wear to the pub crawl. Within seconds, Collin came and stood in her bedroom doorway, the fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist, his long fingers clasping his balled-up hiking pants and underwear.
Maybe he could make it as a supermodel.
“Your turn,” he said as he checked out her bedroom—painted a lighter shade of gray than the bathroom, most of the furniture distressed ivory. His gaze settled on her bed. “The wood on your headboard looks a lot like your mantel.”
“Same craftsman, same barn.”
“Nice.” He nodded as he swept his gaze over the bed, then leveled it on her.
“I should get showered, or we’ll be late.” She ducked past him, knowing she’d be a goner if she stopped and risked touching him. “Make yourself at home.”
She went into the bathroom and closed the door quickly. Putting herself in tempting situations with him was wearing her out. Did she want to see what might happen with him, or didn’t she?
Ellie showered, brushed her teeth, put on a little makeup, and dried her hair, leaving it loose and wavy. She put on her robe, tying the sash with a knot in case her willpower started to dwindle.
Fresh and clean, she stepped out of the bathroom, and caught the sound of a baseball game on television. She headed into the living area, where Collin sat on the couch, looking like he belonged in a Ralph Lauren ad. He was wearing nice jeans, a light gray tee, and a plaid button-up shirt with a gray, green, and taupe pattern that complemented his eyes.
Ellie’s heart did a back flip. “And here I was hoping you were going to wear that towel to the pub crawl.”
A devilish smile stretched across his face, his white teeth gleaming. “Had you going, didn’t I?”
Chapter 8
Collin wished he’d gotten a picture of the look on Ellie’s face. Clearly the last thing she’d expected was to see him in clean, dry clothes—looking half decent. Given the choice, he would’ve picked cowboy boots over hiking boots, but he’d made do with what he had.
“Where did you get those clothes?” Ellie asked, still looking a little stunned.
“Out of one of the saddlebags on my bike.” He gave her a gotcha grin. “It’s waterproof.”
She lowered her eyebrows.
“Old habit,” he said. “Sometimes I go out after I hit the gym at work. Don’t want work clothes. Can’t wear gym clothes. The extra ones have come in handy more than a few times.” He shrugged. “I’d say this was one of those.”
Ellie shook her head, her lips bunched, a smile tugging at their corners. “You could’ve told me that.”
“And ruin the surprise? It was more fun letting you think I’d wear dirty, wet hiking clothes to what sounds like a legit event.”
“I couldn’t understand it. I figured I was totally off with my assumptions about you.” She shook her head. “You know, shipshape and all.”
Collin couldn’t stop smiling. “You cooled off like that.” He snapped his fingers.
She whipped out her demure smile, and sat next to him on the couch. “Maybe not as much as you think.”
He raised his eyebrows, now not the least bit interested in the Rockies game on TV. Not with Ellie sitting next to him, smelling all fresh and sexy.
“I mean, when I saw you wearing that towel,” she said, “and standing in my bedroom.”
“Technically I was in the doorway.”
She rolled her eyes. “Technically, all I could think about was…” She sighed dramatically. “That’s going to be one hell of a photo shoot when I win the bet.”
Collin laughed, low and easy. When was the last time he’d felt this comfortable with a woman? Definitely not during the last six months he’d spent with Megan. Things had gotten so bad that he hadn’t even wanted to hang out with her, much less kiss her.
He leaned forward and skimmed his fingers down the sinfully soft collar of Ellie’s robe, where it had draped open when she sat, revealing the smooth curve of one of those perfect C’s. “Yep, that two-person tent I have will be perfect for our camping trip.”
Ellie leaned in close and whispered, “Not a chance.”
She pulled away, but Collin didn’t let her get far. He tugged her toward him, his fingers hooked into the V of her robe, and kissed her. He couldn’t get enough of the sweet softness of her lips. Of every sweep of her velvety tongue.
She clutched fistfuls of his shirt in her hands as she kissed him, his fingers tangled in her hair. He channeled all his discipline to keep from tearing her robe right off her, which just made him more determined to have her. But right now, they had someplace to go. And his first time with her wasn’t going to be a quickie.
First time?
His one-night-stand plan was getting away from him. And he couldn’t care less right now, as she kissed him senseless, trailing a path to his ear.
“We have to get going,” she whispered as she sat up straight, and smoothed her hands over the wrinkles she’d caused when she clutched his shirt in her fists. She stood, and the collar of her robe fell back into place, blocking his killer view. “It won’t take me long to get dressed.” She headed toward the hallway, then stopped and turned to face him, eyebrows low. “You went out to your motorcycle wearing just a towel?”
“Yeah, about that.” He pressed his lips into a tight frown. “Worst. Timing. Ever.”
“What do you mean?”
“Milly and Merri were out for a walk.”
Ellie’s eyes bugged, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “No way.” She let the image sink in, looking freaked. “They love to take walks after storms.” She shook her head. “What did they do when they saw you?”
Collin grinned. “Asked me to come to dinner.”
Her jaw dropped. “They did not.”
“I told them we had plans.” Collin glanced at his watch. “And unless you’re going to wear that robe, you’d better hurry and put some clothes on.”
It took only a short half inning for Ellie to get dressed and knock him out when she walked back in, wearing tight jeans, boots, and a shimmery top under a lightweight suede fringed jacket. Her golden hair was loose. Collin turned off the TV and stood. He raked his eyes over her, nodded, and smiled. Right now, he had no complaints about his stint in Colorado.
A few drinks at the pub crawl, and a whole night with Ellie.
He had no intention of seeing his rental house until tomorrow afternoon—earliest.
She cast a wo
rried look at him, her bunched lips shining with gloss, giving him all kinds of sexy ideas. “What am I going to say to Milly and Merri when I see them in the morning?” She winced. “I’m surprised they didn’t have a pair of little heart attacks.”
Collin grinned. “I think they liked what they saw just as much as you did when you couldn’t stop taking pictures of me on the Stallion Ridge.”
Ellie scrunched her face. “Whatever. I told you right then that you were crashing an amazing view.”
“Just wait,” he said. “That picture’s going to sell.”
“To you.” She winked.
He’d win the bet—no doubt.
Even so, he hadn’t liked what Ellie had said about seeing the two little old ladies tomorrow.
“What are you doing with Milly and Merri in the morning?” he asked, working to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He already had that time marked out on her schedule—with him, in her bed until noon. Maybe there’d be breakfast.
Easy, Cooper.
Collin clenched his jaw, his brain overriding his testosterone. This girl was meant to be a one-night stand—which he hadn’t even had yet.
Get in.
Get out.
Move on to the next one.
And there he was, getting ready to go to a pub crawl with her.
Going on a hike.
Making long-term bets with her.
Showering alone in her bathroom.
Meeting her protective brother?
Ellie was on fire, but this situation shattered his rules. He needed to back off before he got burned. Getting in too deep—even for some seriously hot sex—wasn’t worth it.
Was it?
“I help them get set up for the farmers market every Sunday morning,” Ellie said. “Then I open the gallery. Business is usually pretty good since so many people are in town for the market and are strolling around.”
“Too bad you don’t have my picture ready to display,” he said. “I could knock out that bet tomorrow.”
And win that night camping with her.
Regret knotted in his stomach. Winning the bet—or losing it—would lead to more of what was going on now. More of him getting to know Ellie, really liking her, and wanting like hell to get her in bed.
And make her mine.
He scrubbed his hand across his forehead and dragged it down his face. He had to reel himself in.
But it wasn’t just her smokin’-hot body and gorgeous face that got him. She was easygoing and genuine—two things that Megan never was. An unpredictable mix of artistic, outdoorsy, and open, keeping him guessing and interested to know more.
Intriguing.
Unassuming.
Sexy.
Everything he wanted—eventually.
But not right now. And not here.
Collin wasn’t anywhere close to being ready to have his emotions all knotted up over another woman—and it was already starting with Ellie.
He needed to shut up about the bet, and anything else that hinted at the two of them being together—even at the pub crawl tonight. Sure, they might arrive together, but he could keep his distance. She would be busy volunteering. He’d be having a few drinks and listening to history lessons. Easy enough to get separated during a night like that. Then he could just ride to his place, focus on work, and get back to the rules.
As long as he could forget the way Ellie had made him feel when they kissed.
Chapter 9
Ellie lucked into a parking space a block away from the Thistle Bend Mountain Heritage Museum, and Collin parked his bike across the street and back a ways. Just when she’d decided that they should leave his motorcycle at her place—guaranteeing he’d come back with her tonight—he had said, “I’ll follow you into town.”
Her heart had clenched over those five little words that had said so much, and the flat tone he’d used when he said them. She spent the entire fifteen minutes of the drive glancing at him in her rearview mirror, wondering what had changed his mood so quickly.
Too much like dating?
Ellie couldn’t argue with that. But he hadn’t had to take her up on her invitation to go to the pub crawl. He’d had the perfect out. She would’ve easily accepted the wet-and-dirty-hiking-clothes excuse, and not blinked. This wasn’t supposed to be a dating thing between them anyway. He was a new client of hers, and she was just being friendly.
But those kisses…
Her gaze was riveted to Collin’s reflection in her side-view mirror as he swaggered toward her SUV—tall and square-shouldered and proud. Not too bulky, just firm and strong and smooth. She squeezed her eyes closed for a second, envisioning every ripped muscle she’d had the pleasure of seeing. And his personality was just as fine as his body. He was smart and funny—definitely a prankster—and easygoing enough. Sure, he had dodged telling his broken-engagement story, but she could hardly blame him. It wasn’t fun spilling the details of such a heartbreaking failure.
No doubt he’d gotten mixed signals from her, because she couldn’t decide what to do about him. She’d been kind of blindsided—not ready to get involved, but too tempted to say no.
As Collin neared her SUV, Ellie wondered if she’d missed the perfect chance to see where things might go with him. She sighed, and got out, joining Collin, but keeping some space between them.
“There’s something I should tell you,” he said, his tone still flat.
Ellie swallowed hard, not sure she wanted to hear it. But then again, if he was going to explain what was going on, she definitely wanted to know.
“Milly and Merri weren’t out for a walk today.”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me?”
Collin shook his head; the grin she expected didn’t spread across his face. It stopped at the hint of a curve at the corners of his mouth—as if he’d set her up for another gotcha moment, but gave up on it instead.
He shrugged. “It’s a damn shame they missed seeing me in that towel.” There was that not-quite-smile again, and no mischief in his eyes like there should’ve been.
“It was something,” Ellie said, leaving him to interpret if she’d meant that something was good or bad. Since their vibe had shifted to neutral—and awkward—she played along.
They reached the sidewalk in front of the historic Thistle Bend Mountain Heritage Museum—white wood plank, with big windows stretching beneath a corrugated tin awning. Perfectly fitting into the Wild-West-movie-set feel of the town, the building hadn’t been changed much since it had housed a gas station and a hardware store back in the day. It had been empty when Lindsey had come to town last year, then overseen its transformation into a significant cultural hub that the Thistle Bend locals loved to support.
People had settled on the benches out front, and gathered in groups, even though the doors wouldn’t officially open for fifteen minutes.
Ellie tugged in a deep breath and glanced up at Collin, making sure to avoid meeting his gaze. “I’ve got to duck inside and get things ready for the poker game.”
“No worries.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tipped his head toward a group of men gathered over near the old-timey gas pump that still stood in front of the building. “There’re a couple guys from the site over there.”
She pressed her lips into a tight smile. “I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yep.”
Ellie paused a beat, and headed for the door, her brow furrowed. Struggling to shove her confusion aside, she stepped into the museum. Despite what was happening with Collin, she smiled genuinely as she gazed around the homey main hall with its exposed-beam ceiling and the old-fashioned potbellied stove that townspeople used to gather around. She loved the displays of classic merchandise that had been on the shelves the day the gas station and hardware store had closed. Everyone’s favorite feature was the centerpiece of the main hall—the model town and railroad meticulously built by Carden Crenshaw and his grandfather.
Quiet, dark, an
d handsome, Carden stood next to the huge model, tinkering with the train and tracks—no doubt making sure it’d be good to go every time someone dropped in a quarter to make the toy train chug around the tiny town.
She caught him gazing at Lindsey—his live-in girlfriend and, by every indication, the love of his life. Ellie couldn’t blame him for staring. In a coral sundress, with her long blond hair caught up in a messy bun, she happily chatted with the caterer who’d set up a nice spread in the adjacent exhibit hall.
Ellie waved at a group of people gathered toward the back of the main hall, where black-and-white photos of the town’s movers and shakers lined the walls. Her friend Holly grinned, left the group, and hurried toward Ellie.
Always looking enviably fashionable, Holly wore a loose lavender top, several strands of colorful seed-bead necklaces, jeans, and low suede boots the color of bleached sand. Boots and jeans were always in style and in season in Thistle Bend, no matter the occasion.
“I’m so glad you didn’t get tied up with work,” Ellie said.
Holly was the most sought-after real estate attorney in the area, and summer was prime time for sales in town and at the ski resort on nearby Paintbrush Peak.
“Are you kidding?” Holly scrunched her face and tucked a lock of her layered auburn hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t miss Lindsey’s event.” She nudged Ellie’s elbow, eyebrows raised, hazel eyes bright. “Ready to deal?” She gestured toward a nearby antique rolltop desk with a cash till and a deck of cards on top.
Ellie nodded. “I’ve got it down. Twenty bucks to play. Each player gets a wristband, two cards to start, and two at each stop. When they come back here at the end, best hand splits the pot with the museum.” She stifled a grin, remembering Collin’s joke about them giving away pot.
“What?” Holly asked.
“Nothing.” There was no reason to mention Collin to Holly, especially right now. There wasn’t enough time to talk through it all.
“You’re good to go.” Holly glanced at her watch—sepia-faced with a weathered leather band. “And we’ve got a couple minutes.” She clutched Ellie’s forearm and tugged her toward the desk. “You’re going to want to hear this, but I don’t want anyone else to.”