Page 1 of Where We Bloom (The Blackwells of Montana #3)

BILLIE

Last Autumn

I like him, this handsome stranger who approached me at my bookstore right before closing.

He asked if he could take me to dinner, and honestly, I wasn’t sure.

I mean, he’s hot as hell at well over six feet tall, with dark hair and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, and it looks like he has muscles for days beneath his white button-down shirt and black slacks.

He’s sexy.

And did I mention his glasses? Yeah, he has the nerve to wear black-rimmed glasses that might have made my vagina salivate.

But he’s … broody.

I’m not a broody person. And yes, I read enough romance novels to know that the grumpy-sunshine combination can be hot, but that’s fiction. In real life? I’ve never been attracted to the grump. And this guy has intense written all over him.

Despite that, I said yes, and two hours later, here we are, finishing dinner at Ciao, my favorite restaurant in Bitterroot Valley, with the handsome stranger sitting across from me.

We shared the appetizer of Italian nachos, a huge entrée of pasta, and tiramisu for dessert.

I’m not afraid to eat in front of a man.

Yes, I’m a curvy girl, and I know how to dress my body, and I’m not ashamed of it.

I like to eat.

But the portions here are so large that I suggested we share, and I think it was the right call.

The best part of this dinner, though, has been the conversation. This guy—I didn’t get his name—is intelligent, and he listens.

Which, in my limited dating experience, seems rare.

“I might be in a food coma,” I admit as I sit back and sip the last of my after-dinner coffee, watching him. “That was delicious.”

“Everything about this evening has been delicious,” he replies, holding my gaze through those sexy-as-fuck glasses. I feel the warmth from his words spread through me.

He may be broody, but he’s charming. And he’s hardly taken his eyes off me all through dinner.

“May I be blunt?” he asks, his light accent coming through. I don’t know where he’s from in Europe, but I know he’s not American .

“Of course, please do.”

“I’d like you to come back to my suite with me. Stay the night with me.”

The hand lifting my water glass to my lips pauses halfway as I stare at him, and then I slowly lower it to the table.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Why do I feel like you’re a man who usually gets what he wants?”

His green gaze holds mine as he waits quietly, his finger tapping the side of his wineglass, watching me as I decide what to do. He’s sexy, there’s no doubt about it. He held my hand on the way here from my shop, and it made my whole arm tingle.

I’m not an impulsive person. I certainly don’t have sex with someone on a first date.

But I like him. And a chance to have sex with a man like this one may never present itself again.

And did I mention that he’s sexy?

“Where are you staying?” I watch his lips twitch, and his face relaxes as if he were worried I’d say no.

“At the ski resort.”

I nod slowly, take one last sip of my water, and ignore the butterflies currently doing the Macarena in my stomach.

“All right.”

His eyebrow wings up. “Just like that?”

“It seems so.”

He pays the check, offers me his hand, and guides me through the restaurant. I like walking beside him. He’s such a big man, but I feel perfectly safe when I’m next to him, which is an odd thought, considering I don’t typically feel un safe.

When we’re standing on the sidewalk, I turn to him.

“I can meet you up there. My car’s parked behind my shop.”

This tall, hot-as-hell stranger steps closer to me, and with his finger under my chin, he lifts my face so he can look into my eyes. Did all the air rush out of Montana just now? Because it’s suddenly harder to breathe.

“I don’t want to let you out of my sight in case you disappear on me. I’m only here for one night, and I plan to take full advantage of that. I’ll make sure you get back to your car safely in the morning.”

Wow. After swallowing hard, I simply nod, and he kisses my forehead before leading me to a massive black SUV parked across the street.

My stranger opens the passenger door for me, makes sure I secure my seat belt, closes the door, and then circles the hood to the driver’s side.

“You know,” I say as he backs out of the parking space and heads toward the road that leads to the resort, “we talked all through dinner, but I never asked you where you’re visiting from.”

I’m watching his profile as he drives, so I see it when his lips tip up at the side, and I wish he’d give me a full smile.

I saw his eyes light up when I said something funny, and those lips tipped up too, but he has yet to grace me with a full grin.

I bet it’s devastating.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t divulge too many personal things tonight.” He shoots me a glance before he reaches over and sets his hand on my thigh, then gives it a little squeeze.

Just that simple touch makes my nipples pucker. I bite my lip.

We had animated conversation at dinner, but we never talked about anything too personal. Obviously, I discussed my bookstore a bit, but never my family or friends. He asked me questions about the store and the town.

But really, we’ve kept things quite surface, and I don’t really mind. He’s only here for this one night, and if he wants to keep things mellow, I’m down for that.

I stare at his hand, then cover it with my own and glide my fingers over his, enjoying the way his skin feels against mine.

“As long as you don’t have a wife somewhere who assumes you’re being faithful to her and your six children, that’s fine with me.”

To my absolute shock, he laughs. Laughs. And it lights me up inside. It’s the kind of laugh you give when you’re tickled with someone.

And his smile is as devastating as I expected. It makes my heart speed up into hyperdrive.

“That’s not exactly a denial.”

He shakes his head and glances at me again. “No. I’m not married, and I don’t have any children. Certainly not six.”

“Great. I don’t either.”

He leaves his SUV with the valet and takes my hand again to escort me into the lodge. After riding the elevator to the top floor, he leads me to the suite at the end of the hall, opens the door, and gestures for me to walk in ahead of him.

This room is fancy. Or set of rooms, I should say. A wall of windows in both the living area and the bedroom gives a spectacular view of the ski mountain and the beautiful trees beyond.

“Great room.” I immediately kick off my shoes, because that’s just habit, and the next thing I know, I’m spun around, back against the window, and he’s framed my face in his hands and is kissing me.

Not a tentative first kiss. No, this man consumes me, as if he’s wanted to do this to me since the moment he first saw me, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so wanted.

So damn sexy.

His mouth is amazing. Not too hard, not too wet. He growls against me, those hands drift down to my ass, and then he lifts me.

I let out a yelp and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I’m not a little woman.

“I’ve got you,” he says against my lips as he carries me to the bedroom. “And as much as I’d love to fuck you against that glass, I’d have to kill anyone who got a look at you, so we’ll take it to the bedroom.”

I smirk. I can’t help it .

He’s not going to kill anyone over a one-night stand.

But it’s an amusing thought.

And then all thinking goes out those windows as he sets me on my feet. My hands dive for the buttons on his shirt, and he unfastens the belt I have around the green dress I’m wearing.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he says as the belt hits the floor.

With a grin, I push his shirt over his shoulders, and when it joins my belt near our feet, I let my eyes roam over smooth skin and muscles that aren’t for days. They’re for years. His abs are so defined, I want to lick them.

I want to nibble them.

And my hands are all over him.

“Lift your arms, beautiful girl.” I comply, letting him pull my dress over my head. He discards it, and I’m standing before this Greek god in just my pretty purple bra and panties, my many flaws on display for him. “Christ Jesus, you’re gorgeous.”

We’re not touching now, just staring at each other, taking each other in. His chest heaves. His hands fist at his sides.

“Your pants,” I whisper, meeting his eyes. “Please.”

His jaw clenches.

“I like it when you ask nicely.” He steps out of the slacks, along with his boxers, and oh. My. God. “My eyes are up here, angel.”

Angel. I’m going to die tonight. I feel it coming.

I swallow hard .

“And you have nice eyes, but holy shit, have you seen that ?”

I’m scooped up again and am lying on my back in the middle of a soft island of a bed, and he’s hovering over me, kissing up my chest toward my chin.

His hands explore me everywhere. Over my sides and hips. My thighs. And then his palms skim up to my breasts. His thumbs brush my nipples over the bra, and I arch into him.

“Every fucking inch of you is perfect,” he growls against my ear. “If there is anything that I do that you don’t like, you just say so, and it stops. Got it?”

I nod, biting my lip as I watch his lips move.

“I need your words, angel.”

“I understand. Same goes.”

He gives me that smile again before twisting me onto my stomach. He unfastens my bra before he pulls my hips back so my ass is in the air and my face is against the bed. Then his mouth is right there.

I hear him inhale. His hands ghost over the globes of my ass, and then he swipes his tongue through my slit, from my clit all the way to the back door, and I moan.

“Look at you,” he murmurs before doing it again. “Already so damn wet.”

It starts out gentle, and then it’s anything but . He licks and then sucks on my clit, pushes a finger inside me, and I push back against him, needing so much more. I feel like if I don’t get him inside me now , I’ll spontaneously combust.

“You like that? ”

I nod, and then there’s a smack on my ass.

“Words, angel.”

This is going to be the best way to die.

“Yes, I like it.”

“Good.”