I like a place where everyone knows everyone and you feel safe leaving your doors unlocked.”
“How did you learn about Snow Creek?”
“A fluke, actually. I was looking for a job as a trainer, and I focused on fitness centers in rural towns. I got several offers, and I chose here because Colorado is such a beautiful place to live.”
I nodded. “It is. There’s nothing like it. California can have its beaches. I’ll take our mountains any day.”
“I’m ready to experience four seasons again.”
The server brought our iced teas, and I took a long sip. I was thirsty after the steam, and it also gave me something to do with my hands, which suddenly seemed overly big and gawky.
“Where did you study?” I asked.
“I did my undergrad and master’s at UCLA. You?”
“University of Denver. I majored in Journalism, and I did a little work for the local paper here, but cooking is my first love.”
“Why not go straight to culinary school then?”
“My father. He was adamant I go to a four-year program. All three of my brothers had, and I felt I owed it to him.”
“Owed it to him?”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. He died right after I graduated high school.”
I hadn’t meant to lie. Until recently, that had been the truth as I knew it. My father had faked his own death after I turned eighteen, and I’d done the university thing because it was what he’d wanted.
No other reason, but I was glad I’d gone. I’d met Jade there.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” I said. Plus, it didn’t even happen.
“It’s never too late. You look pretty young.”
“I’m almost twenty-six.”
“Ah, an older woman.” He grinned. “I’m almost twenty-five.”
Far cry from Bryce’s thirty-eight. This guy wouldn’t have a problem with my pink and yellow unicorns. He’d never even know about them.
The server brought our lunch, and again, I was happy to have something to do. We made a little small talk as we ate. When we were done and the server brought the check, he reached for it.
“I’d really like it if you’d let me pay,” I said. “I can’t take your training for nothing.”
“I told you. It’s not for nothing. It’s for your company.”
“I’d be happy to give you my company and pay for lunch.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it.”
He was a gentleman for sure. He now knew I owned a ranch, so he must know I didn’t have any financial issues. He couldn’t know exactly how big the Steel operation was, though.
He paid quickly, and we left the restaurant. “I have another client in a half hour, so I need to get back.”
“I understand. When should we get together to train?”
He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to me. “Here’s my number. Give me a call”—he grinned—“anytime.”
He turned and walked back toward the gym. I stood, my mouth agape, holding the thick gray card. His photo was on it. His hair was longer in the picture, and if possible, he looked even better that way.
He was gorgeous. He was a gentleman. And he was ripped as all get-out.
But not so much as a spark.
Just being near Bryce made my skin tighten and tingle. This guy?
Nope.
But what did that matter? I wasn’t looking for a husband. I was looking for a date. And I got one. He was a good date. A damned good date.
I smiled to myself, still staring down at the card. When I finally looked up—
Bryce stood in front of me.
Chapter Thirteen
Bryce
Marjorie’s cheeks were flushed, and her hair was damp. She looked fresh and relaxed after her workout.
That flush probably covered her entire body, from the swells of her plump breasts down her flat tummy to the tops of her perfect thighs.
My mind edged to the jagged scar on her left thigh. I’d meant to ask her about it, but I never had.
“Where’s Henry?” she asked.
“Mom picked him up. He was getting fussy and he needed a nap.”
“Why didn’t you just take him home?”
Indeed, why hadn’t I? I’d fibbed to Mom and said I had a few errands to run, but the truth? I’d been hoping to run into Marjorie again.
“I have some errands.”
“Oh. I’ll let you get to it, then.” She turned.
“Wait.” I gripped her shoulder. “You want to get some lunch?”
“What are you doing, Bryce?”
Nothing like getting right to the point. “I just thought…you might be hungry.”
“I just had lasagna at the Bungalow, and you know how big Mrs. Pagliacci’s portions are. I’m not hungry, Bryce.”
“Oh.”
She bit her lower lip.
It