“What brings you to town?” As much as I’d like to hustle her out of my office, I know I’m expected to play nice with the Guy family, so I’ll make polite if I have to. Anything short of faking some romantic interest in Sabrina that I just don’t have.

She sinks into the chair across from my desk and crosses her long legs, exposing a generous amount of skin between her knee-high boots and the hem of her skirt. She’s beautiful. I can’t deny that. But for reasons I can’t tell my father, there are lines I can’t cross. Sabrina is firmly on the other side of most of them.

“I’m here to campaign,” she begins, and I sit back in my chair, preparing for a long discussion of politics and family gossip.

Chapter Nine

Liz

The ceremony was perfect, and the reception is a dream. White lights and tulle are draped everywhere, adding a magical quality to the already majestic feel of a ballroom that boasts two entirely glass walls overlooking the hills of Brown County. Candles flicker from every available surface, and bouquets of deep red roses sit at each table.

Nate and Hanna are on the dance floor. Nate’s eyes seem to be constantly trained on her, as if she’s a precious gem he thought he’d lost. No one has ever looked at me like that. Probably never will. I don’t inspire that kind of tenderness.

Sam is fucking delicious in his tux. He’s tall and broad and fills the tux like a dream. But that’s nothing compared to what I know is underneath. He’s even sexier with his clothes off than on. And his package? Jesus. I call him cocky for a reason. I’ve barely talked to him since our bodies were pressed together in the storage closet together yesterday. I’ve been too busy with bridesmaid duties. But for the rest of the night, I get to be Sam’s “date,” whatever that entails, and later . . . later, I’ll be River’s.

The tangled mix of nerves, hope, and anticipation I feel at that thought is so potent that even the wine can’t seem to tame it.

From my spot at the head table, I watch Sam. He’s sitting a couple of tables away with William and Max. William has his arms full of chubby baby boy, and Max is settling his daughter into Sam’s arms.

Next to me, Cally sighs. “Is there anything more appealing than a handsome man holding a baby?”

“Nothing,” I whisper.

It’s too easy to imagine Sam holding his own child, totally enraptured with the little fingers and squeaks. Despite his claims of not wanting to do the whole marriage-and-family thing, I think he’d be good at it. He comes from a big family, and he’s a natural with kids.

Stop it, my rational self scolds. That’s not going to happen, and I need to stop those thoughts before they go any further.

“Go on,” Cally says, nudging me. “Go dance with him.”

No use pretending I don’t know who she’s talking about when I’ve been staring at him for the last five minutes. I slip my feet back into my heels and make my way to Sam’s table.

“You have company,” Max says, taking his daughter from Sam. “You two go have fun.” He winks at me.

Sam’s face goes serious as he gives me a once-over, his eyes sliding down my body so slowly and deliberately that my face heats with embarrassment and arousal.

“It’s good of Max to be here tonight,” I say when we get to the dance floor. I place one hand in Sam’s and put the other on his shoulder, dancing in a way that keeps the most distance between our bodies.

“Between you and me, I think it killed him a little to watch her marry someone else.”

I look over Sam’s shoulder and see Max gathering his things to leave. “Then why did he come?”

Sam’s face is serious, cautious. “That’s just the kind of man Max is, Rowdy. He’ll sacrifice part of himself just to make the woman he loves happy.”

“He still loves her?”

“He’s trying not to,” he says, “but he does. Of course he does.” Taking my hips in his hands, he pulls our bodies together then brings his mouth to my ear. “I don’t really want to talk about Max and Hanna right now.” The heat of his breath against my ear—oh hell, this is gonna be good.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I was going to give you a hard time about that guy feeling you up by the restroom the other night, but if you’d been there with me and dressed like that, I’d have done the same.”

My stomach flip-flops. “You talk a big game, Bradshaw.”

He grins. “Unlike you, I guess. Never sleep with a guy on the first date?”

“Never,” I lie.

“And so what happened after Cally’s wedding . . .?”

“We never went on a date,” I explain, and that much is true.

He raises a brow. “Ah, the loophole. So clever. I guess it’s a shame we’re on a date tonight then. Because I sure enjoyed those not-dates.”

“Me too,” I whisper, my teeth sinking into my lower lip.

“But you’re not interested in not-dating anymore, are you, Rowdy? I hear you’re an active member of Something Real.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“It’s all over the New Hope Tattler.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps a few times on the screen before handing it to me.

Lizzy Thompson Trying It All to Find Love

So much for anonymous. “Fuck me,” I breathe.

“I could arrange for that,” Sam says as he takes back his phone and returns it to his pocket. His voice is low, and that seductive bass line that makes me . . . want things.