Delphi shot a quick glance at the arrogant Lars, smirking at Merrilee’s designation of him as a boy. He grinned and winked at her. Really, that man... “Dirk is also Liam’s second-in-command at the training camp.”
While Lars and Liam weren’t small by any means, Dirk stood a good two inches taller and probably outweighed Lars by thirty pounds. “Pleased to meet you.”
She was beginning to sound like a parrot. There was no way she’d ever remember all of these names.
Dirk’s hand engulfed Delphi’s, but she noticed he was careful not to exert too much pressure. She pegged him as a gentle giant kind of guy.
“Pleased to meet you, as well,” she said.
“And last, but definitely not least, is my better half, Janie...I mean, Jane’s brother, and the guys’ uncle, Bull Swenson.”
Bull bore a striking resemblance to Jane and, to a lesser extent, Dirk. Although he stood a full head shorter than the other men in the group, it didn’t matter. Bull Swenson had a presence about him. The medical professional in Delphi immediately noted the scars on his neck. They looked old and painfully gained. There was a story there.
“Hello.”
Before she wrapped up the introductions, Merrilee motioned to the two older gentlemen who sat in rocking chairs across the room. They flanked a chess set. “That’s Dwight Simmons on your left and Jefferson Monroe to your right.”
Both men nodded in her direction. In the midst of the meet-and-greet, Delphi couldn’t shake her awareness of Lars Reinhardt. It was as if a part of her attention was stuck on him. She’d done her damnedest to ignore him on the plane and now when she had all of these people tugging at her attention, a part of her was still caught up in him. He was a man who simply couldn’t be ignored.
“Don’t worry, honey, we’re not going to quiz you on names anytime soon,” Merrilee said and then chuckled. “Now let’s get y’all settled upstairs. Lars is in room three and, Delphi, you’re in four.” Merrilee patted her hand. “You’re closest to the bathroom.”
“Thank you.” Delphi spoke automatically but her brain remained stuck on the idea of having him in the room next to her. A shiver raced through her.
“And of course you’re invited to the wedding,” Tansy said, beaming. “The whole town will be there. Now that you’re a part of Good Riddance, of course we want you to come, as well.”
“Absolutely,” Merrilee chimed in. “It’s a great way for you to meet everyone. And it’ll just plain out be fun.”
Delphi didn’t dare look at Lars. She didn’t have to. She could feel his smirk. It was one thing to turn him down, but how did you tell a bride-to-be you didn’t want to have anything to do with her big day?
She frantically searched for an excuse. It wasn’t as if she could say she had another commitment. There was nothing to do here and no one to do it with, not with everyone planning to attend the nuptials.
She grabbed on to the universal female out. Smiling weakly she demurred, “I didn’t pack anything suitable—”
“Pshaw.” Merrilee cut her off, waving her hand as if brushing aside the matter. “You’ll see a little bit of everything there. There’ll be plenty of blue jeans, shorts and everything in between.”
Lars spoke up. “I already invited her.”
Merrilee gave a little clap. “Perfect. Now you both have an escort.”
Just shoot her.
It looked as if she was going to a wedding—with Lars Reinhardt—unless she developed a headache. Although the very thought of sharing a room next to him already gave her a headache.
And, unfortunately, a bit of a thrill.
* * *
LARS CLIMBED THE STAIRS leading to the rooms above the airstrip, bringing up the rear behind Merrilee and Delphi. Blondie had a cute little butt. He’d noticed when she deplaned ahead of him and it was impossible not to notice now. Her tush was trim and cute, just like the rest of her.
She brought home to him just how long it had been since he’d enjoyed the company of a woman. Of course, it had been a damn long time since he’d been on leave, too. But it wasn’t as if Delphi was simply handy and convenient. She’d tripped his trigger switch the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Instant attraction was a potent thing.
She’d pulled out the “nothing to wear” excuse but if she really hadn’t wanted to go with him, she’d have invented some fictitious boyfriend back home or some other chick excuse. He’d