“Seriously?” he asked, his nose scrunching as his grin widened with curiosity. Oo, shit, and there was that dimple she’d always found adorable, one more way of making the man nearly perfect. On the outside, anyway. He cleared his throat and looked down, uncertainty setting in. “I… I have to say, I wondered why you were, um, flirting across the wedding with me. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten butterflies like that.”
The rhythm picked up a little, her hips moving faster with the beat, and his hands settled at her sides, her arms relaxing on his shoulders. “It’s my brother’s wedding,” she answered easily. “Everyone is happy and in love and it’s spring. I broke up with someone a few weeks ago, and I can’t tell you how hard it was not to call him to see if he’d be my plus-one for tonight. Ugh. It sucks being single when the single pool is rapidly shrinking.”
He tilted a curious look at her.
“And then you swept in at the last minute and with one look, you made me feel like the most desirable person in the room.Ican’t remember the last timeI’vegotten butterflies like that. In my classic bad luck, I’m drawn like a moth to a flame to the guy who doesn’t even live in the state, and even if he did…” She grimaced and shrugged, not needing to describe everything that was wrong with him.
He laughed softly and they eased closer together with the beat. “I haven’t been out much since Claire. But clearly, I have a pretty shitty reputation around here.”
“No offense, but… you do. Terrible, actually. Too entitled for those of us who call Foothills home. Flashy cars, a big-time job, and you’re even attractive and charismatic. You don’t fit in. No offense.”
He snorted a laugh, very humanly, and shook his head. “I actually have an SUV… although, perhaps a bit flashy of one. Someday, I might get to ski again and actually need the extra traction. What kind of car doyoudrive?”
“Why? Would it change your opinion of me?” she asked, looking over his shoulder and seeing her brothers were both living it up on the dancefloor, plus a bunch of other football players, flaunting their touchdown victory dances and mingling with locals and all laughing and having a brilliant time.
Ryder wasn’t paying attention to anyone else. “Embarrassed?”
“Fine,” she muttered and accidentally laughed. “A shiny and new and very pretty Silverado… a spiffed-up silver one. After my mom died and I was depressed as hell, I, um, I self-medicated with a new truck. Evan calls it my oversized Prozac.”
He tipped his head back and laughed adoringly, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his grin wide and sweet. “People in Foothills pretend they’re not pretentious, but they baby their trucks as much as we city-folk do our sports cars—maybe more.”
She lifted a single eyebrow.
“My point is, you drive a hot car, even though it’s a truck. And, honestly, if I saw you driving up in that, climbing out in a miniskirt and flipping that wavy hair of yours? I would lose the ability to speak. You’re fucking gorgeous. You’ve got this loving, talented family, and—from what I remember—you’re a gifted athlete and kick ass on whatever field you find yourself on. You’re the head chef and part owner of the best restaurant in the hippest getaway town in the Pacific Northwest. Oh, and aren’t you the defensive coordinator for our state champ high school football team?”
“So?” she teased, biting her lips to avoid laughing. How did he know so much about her? As they spun into the next turn, she caught a glimpse of Patricia watching them with a sly grin. Oh. That’s how. Witchy woman.
“I’m a workaholic chasing a promotion I’m beginning to think I’m never going to get. I live alone in a beige cookie cutter neighborhood townhouse. I have no social life, no friends outside of work. I have a ski rack on my SUV that I’ve never used. I have raging insomnia and haven’t had sex in nearly a year. Satisfied?” Ryder twitched a self-effacing grin, flashing a charmingly honest side she hadn’t anticipated.
“If you’re saying all this so I’ll keep dancing with you…”
He laughed and shook his head. “Would that be so bad? One evening, that’s it, but I’m enjoying the hell out of… well, you.”
“I suppose,” she said, finding she’d moved closer, closer, and she trailed her fingertips on the back of his neck, roughing over his neatly trimmed hair, short in back and just a little longer on top. “I don’t wear miniskirts.”
“Baggy jeans and a hoodie then. My tongue would still loll out of my mouth.” His expression softened, and he looked vaguely around the room. “Look. About the Bellamy pitch.”
Her stomach dropped as she remembered why they’d started at each other to begin with, and she really, really didn’t want to hear him say—
“Of all the players here, Jagger Prince would be my first choice. Yeah, I would love to see better representation, so that’s undeniably a factor, but he’s an incredible athlete with a long career ahead of him, and if they wouldn’t want him as a brand ambassador, homophobia would be the absoluteonlyreason, as he’s fucking perfect, and I wouldn’t do business with a company like that.”
Zoe’s expression lifted with surprise. “Really?”
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that shitty of a reputation—”
“No. It’s my fault. I’m defensive. Evan doesn’t say, but I know one of the main reasons he didn’t make the NFL draft was because he didn’t want attention on anything other than his skills on the field. Didn’t want attention at all, but I know he had a rough time keeping his personal life quiet when he became a big name in college football. When Finn signed on and became an instant celebrity, we were all thrilled, of course, but…” Fuck, she didn’t want to have this conversation, but she found herself blurting it out anyway. “Evan gave up his dreams so he could live normally, and that dream that I would love to have dreamed was never going to be an option for me at all.”
Ryder’s hands on her sides relaxed, yet held her closer, and he studied her softly. “You know, I was always jealous of the Halseth family.”
“What? You hadeverything. No offense, but I wouldn’t picture a Mallory jealous of anyone.”
“We’re closer now, but you guys…” He shrugged and looked distantly around the crowd before landing softly back on her. “You’re half the size of your brothers, but you were ready to tear my head off to protect one of them.”
The music quieted, and Patricia’s husband smoothed his argyle tie, ruffled his grizzly adams beard, and stepped grandly to the microphone to extend an invitation to all guests for dinner.
Ryder lowered his hands and linked one with Zoe lightly, unassuming and shocking her as much as his messy hair and self-effacing attitude. “Hey, save another dance for me?” he asked, flashing a sparkly smile with that dimple. Probably a winning smile he regularly practiced in the mirror until perfected, but…
She nibbled her bottom lip and licked it away. “Sure.”
