CHAPTER TWO

brOOKE STANLEY

"And if you can't flaunt a sexy dress in New York City, where can you wear it?"

"That's quite a distance. New job?" Travis asks as I focus on not passing out from nerves at my current situation—alone with the most attractive man I've ever met.

I'd been grateful when Adeline and Samantha proposed joining me in New York for an impromptu girls' vacation/cross-country move. Their significant others, Heath and Derek, weren't too happy about them gallivanting around New York without protection, but the men were needed on the ranch, and we could handle ourselves.

This past week has honestly been the most fun I've had in the city since moving here eight months ago with my older brother, Ryan, after his transfer to New York's professional hockey team.

Ryan would've helped with moving except the team had a string of away games this week. Besides, all I had to do was direct the movers, not heft furniture out of the condo, down five flights, and into a moving truck.

Ever since our parents died in a freak plane crash when we were six and twelve, I've followed Ryan. When we moved in with our aunt, uncle, and cousins. When he joined a youth hockey league.

I promptly became my big brother's shadow.

Attended every hockey practice. Game. Interview.

He's always been my security blanket. Even now as his social media manager—a role with an expiration date since Ryan's retiring soon. Which means it's time for me to spread my wings and do something of my own, and that's exactly what I plan to accomplish while living in Montana for the next year.

All that's left is to hop on a plane tomorrow and start my new life in Guardian Valley, Montana as a full-time romance author. My dream career after meeting a classmate's author mom at a job fair when I was sixteen.

And what a night of inspiration to kickstart my decision to jump headfirst into writing full-time.

A creepy stranger who felt entitled to more, going so far as to touch me after I refused his advances.

A silver fox dressed in Armani who saved me from said creep with a sexy power move and an air of authority.

It practically writes itself!

"Yes, that's right." It's true I'm starting a new job now that I have the time and resources to devote to it, though that's not the real reason for the move to Montana.

But I can't exactly tell Travis about the inheritance from Mr. Foster, the dead billionaire whose company was responsible for the accident that killed my parents.

It's not something I share with strangers because the looks of pity when they learn about my orphan status make me sick.

I'm also not about to mention the substantial windfall coming my way as long as I live in Guardian Valley for a year, per Mr. Foster's will.

Even if Travis's expensive-looking suit and club owner status negate his need for more money in his bank account.

"Care to elaborate? Or I could guess," Travis muses, his piercing stare traveling down the side of my body in one long sweep.

I shiver under his gaze, feeling exposed.

Vulnerable.

I purchased this dress during a bout of confidence because the satin glided over my plus-size figure in a way that made me feel sexy. A high slit reveals most of my thigh while the practically backless portion—just straps and a band to support my breasts—ends right above my ass.

Frankly, I assumed I'd never wear it out in public. Afraid people would judge my back rolls or the stretch marks on my thigh, but Samantha and Adeline assured me I looked hot before we left the hotel tonight.

And if you can't flaunt a sexy dress in New York City, where can you wear it?

Still… I didn't expect a consequence of donning the dress to be hanging out in the club owner's office after he saved me from a pushy groper.

An experienced and attractive man whose mere presence keeps me off-balance.

Which is an unfamiliar feeling since I'm used to plowing through my discomfort most days.

You don't work for a professional athlete like my brother without facing a lot of people and learning to adapt quickly. But I must have adjusted to the slower Montana life quicker than I thought after my brief visit, because my brain is not computing what's happening very well.

"I'm curious what you think I do considering we just met." Am I flirting? Attempting to even though Travis seems way out of my league?

He's older with silver streaking his short hair and trimmed beard, but it's the aura of dominance surrounding him that intimidates me even as it causes my body to heat in sensual curiosity.

"Do I win a prize for guessing correctly?" Travis bares his teeth in a wolfish smile, and my thighs clench together, arousal tingling along my veins.

There's a finer line between lust and nerves than I realized.

"We'll see," I say noncommittally, sipping my drink like the sophisticated woman I'm pretending to be.

He hums in his throat, the low vibrato the closest thing I've ever heard to a growl. Oh my. Resting his shoulder on the window, he crosses his ankles, slowly studying me.

"Teacher."

"Nope."

"Librarian."

"Strike two."

Instead of guessing a third profession, Travis straightens and shifts, so his chest brushes my exposed back, pressing me into the window. "How can I trust you're telling the truth?"

I gasped. The intensity of his nearness causes my knees to weaken. A precursor to my whole body dissolving into the hardwood floors beneath me.

"I'm not a liar."

A heated flame sparks where the window reflects his gaze, and he places one hand against the glass above my shoulder, inching forward.

"Because you're a good girl?"

My heart rate doubles at the innuendo, and I swallow hard. "What do you think?"

Suddenly, his nose grazes my neck as he draws it up the column. His lips neatly trace the rapid beat at my throat—the scratch of his beard lighting me up like dynamite.

"I think you're a very good girl who wants to be bad."

"What makes you think so?" Is that my voice? All breathy and sultry?

"Because you're here with me rather than downstairs with your friends. And I can practically smell the desire soaking your cunt right now."

The words are crude, but they're not false. My body slumps more heavily against the window, the cool sensation a relief on my hot skin, my nipples beading at the sensation.

I manage to rally enough sense to whisper, "You still haven't made your third guess."

The deep, masculine chuckle vibrating against my back shouldn't have a direct line to my clit, yet its throbbing need intensifies, and I have to fight not to moan outright.

"Right or wrong, win or lose, I'll be taking a prize."

"And what would that be?" There's a huskiness in my tone that I've never heard before. It's like we're in a dream—two strangers circling each other. A sophisticated man. A curious woman. And there's only one acceptable outcome before we wake up and find ourselves alone again.

"Let's see, shall we? My third and final guess is... social worker."

"Three strikes, you're out." Then I add, "Are all good girls altruistic in your mind? Everything you guessed was a public service position."

"It's part of your charm: feeling the need to serve others."

"But you're wrong about me," I point out.

"Oh, I don't think so. You just like to serve in other ways…"

We're entering unfamiliar territory. Who am I kidding? This whole conversation feels like a loose puppy I'm desperately trying to catch. I'm flying by the seat of my nonexistent pants here, afraid Travis will realize at any moment that I'm not a skilled seductress.

I'm just a girl who reads way too many romance novels and yearns for her own happily ever after.

A warm palm slides up my leg through the slit of my dress, and it doesn't stop its journey until the heat of Travis's hand cups my bare pussy, stealing the last of my rational thinking.

If I'm leaving New York for good, I'm going out with a bang.

Literally.