Page 56 of Where We Bloom (The Blackwells of Montana #3)

Chapter One

Blake

“It’s wild to me that Bitterroot Valley is so socked in with fog and snow that we can’t land there, but it’s not bad at all here in Missoula.”

The gorgeous woman next to me, with her hand still clutched in mine, stares out the windows of the airport to watch the snow drift down softly as we wait for our luggage.

She’s not my girlfriend.

She’s definitely not my wife.

This intriguing woman is a complete stranger to me, but I absolutely do not want to let go of her hand.

I met her less than two hours ago on a flight from Denver to Montana, thanks to a medical emergency mid-flight with another passenger.

I was asked to help because I’m a doctor, and she was sitting next to the patient. All I know about her is that her name is Harper, she’s a NICU nurse by trade, and she’s so fucking beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off her, with all that dark hair and gray eyes.

Oh, and when she tried to walk out of my life at the end of that tarmac, I told her she’d be with me and offered her my hand.

It wasn’t a question or a request.

And she didn’t argue. If Harper were my sister, I’d punch myself in the face. But she’s not. She’s a beautiful woman that I’m not ready to say goodbye to yet.

We’re stuck in Missoula for the night, thanks to the early winter storm happening at home in Bitterroot Valley.

And I plan to make the most of it.

“Are you okay?” she asks, peering up at me with those gray eyes.

I’m fucking fantastic. Never better.

“I’m fine. And you? Will your family be upset if you don’t make it home in time for Thanksgiving?”

Yes, this is my way of asking about her family. Mine will not be thrilled that I won’t make it home in time for dinner.

“They’ll be okay.” She shrugs a shoulder, then points when she sees her black-and-red suitcase with a bright yellow ribbon on the handle come around on the carousel. “That’s me.”

I muscle it off the belt for her and set it on its wheels. Then I spot my own luggage, and before long, we’re walking away from baggage claim.

“I could just rent a car,” she says thoughtfully as we walk, each one of us rolling our bags, still holding hands. “It’s only a couple hour drive from here.”

“In a storm,” I remind her, shaking my head. “Let’s find a hotel for the night.”

She lifts an eyebrow, and her lips tip up with humor. Gray eyes flash. “Wow. Does that line work on all the nurses you pick up on rerouted flights, or am I just the lucky one?”

I grin at her. Christ, she’s pretty. Even dressed so casually in leggings and a hoodie, with her hair up in a messy bun and in her glasses.

No makeup.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

And I can tell that she’s attracted to me, too. This isn’t one-sided. She’s still letting me hold her hand, for fuck’s sake.

“Two rooms,” I reply, shaking my head. “I’m not trying to be a creep or anything.”

“Good to know. I’ll order an Uber.”

“Already done,” I reply, and chuckle when she narrows her eyes at me. “And you’re welcome to join me.”

Now she bites her lip. “Okay, I’m going to be brutally honest.”

“Please do.”

“You don’t seem like a serial killer.”

“Glad to hear it. ”

“But, Dr. Blackwell, I don’t even know your first name.”

I smile at her, nodding. “Blake. Thirty-four. Family practice and ER doc from Bitterroot Valley. The middle child out of five, I will likely catch some shit for not making it to dinner tomorrow, especially from my niece, Birdie, who is six and the apple of my eye. I’m not married or otherwise attached. ”

She’s blinking at me, listening with wide eyes, and nods slowly.

“Your turn,” I tell her.

“Uh, let’s see. Harper I’m-Not-Telling-You-My-Last-Name. Thirty. NICU nurse, as you know. No siblings. Hell, no parents.”

I tighten my hand around hers, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“My best friend and her family will miss me tomorrow, but like I said, they’ll be chill about it. I like your niece’s name.”

I grin at that.

“We’re all B names. My parents thought it was fun.”

“Totally fun,” she agrees with a nod. “You know, you could have made all of that up and could still be a serial killer.”

I sigh and purse my lips. “You’re right. I could have. Well, I guess you’ll have to trust me.”

“Or I could say goodbye and go fend for myself like the grown adult I am.”

I lean into her, not touching her, and press my lips to the soft skin just below her ear .

Fuck me, she smells good.

“You don’t want to do that, do you, Harper?” I pull back and hook a loose piece of her hair behind her ear. She licks her lips. Yeah, she’s fucking attracted to me . “I promise, I’m not a danger to you.”

She huffs out a laugh. “Why not live on the wild side, right?”

My Uber pulls up to the curb, and I load our suitcases into the trunk. The ride to the hotel is quiet as we take in the snow around us, getting heavier by the minute, and then we’re pulling up to the hotel.

Harper walks next to me as we approach the front desk.

“How can I help you?” the receptionist asks.

“We need two rooms, please,” I tell her, and she starts typing away on her keyboard.

“Do you have a reservation?”

“No,” I reply.

She hums, wrinkling her nose. “Well, with it being the day before Thanksgiving and so many flights canceled, we only have one room left. However, it is a suite.”

I glance at Harper, who shrugs.

“We’ll take it,” I reply with a nod and pass her my credit card, just as Harper offers her credit card as well. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

“No way?—”

“You can buy dinner,” I tell her, and she frowns at me as I get the room squared away with the nice receptionist .

On the way up to the room in the elevator, I glance down at the woman beside me. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I’ll take the couch,” I inform her. “Just laying that all out there now, so there’s no awkwardness later.”

“You’re super tall,” she reminds me, and then her eyes skim over my chest and shoulders. “And … broad. I should probably take the couch.”

“Let’s see the room and then make decisions,” I suggest as the elevator comes to a stop, and we walk out onto our floor.

Our suite is at the end of the hallway, and I open the door and Harper slides past me, pulling her suitcase behind her.

“Well then.” She whistles and looks around the spacious space. “Big room.”

A couch and chair are situated in front of a television, and the dining room table along one wall sits six.

Through a doorway is the bedroom with a king bed, and the bathroom is big enough for a soaking tub and a standing shower that would easily accommodate both of us.

I’m not going to lie. I’d love to fuck her in that shower.

“I’ll fit on that couch,” I inform her, although I sincerely hope that by the time it’s time for bed, I’ll be in the king with her.

Harper is gorgeous, smart, and completely fuckable.

And I’ve recently had a dry streak when it comes to sex .

I don’t do relationships. Ever. My schedule is too messy, and I’m married to the hospital. No woman should feel like she’s secondary to anything, especially a job, and that is unapologetically my priority in life.

But casual sex is something I have down to a science.

“Are you hungry?” she asks me, and I lift an eyebrow.

Harper rolls her eyes, making me laugh.

“For dinner , Romeo. I didn’t grab anything before the flight. There’s a restaurant downstairs.”

“Then we’d best go get some dinner,” I reply with a nod.

“Hold that thought,” she says, raising a finger and pulling her phone out of her pocket. “I have to let Ava know that I won’t be in tonight.”

I nod and give her privacy. I use the bathroom and freshen up from the flight, and when I walk back into the living room, she’s just finishing her call.

“I know, it sucks, but I can’t control the weather, you know. Yeah, I’m safe.” She turns and looks at me and bites that plump lip again. “I promise I’ll keep you posted. I don’t have a return ticket, remember? You’ll get plenty of time with me. Jesus, Ava, you’re fucking needy.”

That makes me chuckle, and Harper smiles back at me.

Fuck, that smile.

“Yeah, yeah, love and blah, blah.” I lift an eyebrow, and she rolls her eyes. “Yes. Yes. No. Okay, mom , eat some turkey for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can, clingy girl. Okay, bye. ”

She lets out a gusty exhale, closes her eyes, and shakes her head.

“That girl needs a boyfriend. Hold on, I’m going to wash my hands.”

She strides into the bathroom, and I shove my hands in my pockets.

Jesus. I like her.