"We could skip dinner," I hear myself say, stepping closer until I can smell her perfume—something light and clean that makes me think of wildflowers and mountain air. My hands find her hips, tracing the silver embroidery at her waist. "Spend the evening finding out if I can kiss you until you can't breathe."
Her pulse jumps at the base of her throat, and her pupils dilate. I lean down, letting my lips barely graze the sensitive spot just below her ear, feeling her shiver against me. Her body sways toward mine, and for a heartbeat, I think she might say yes.
She laughs—breathless but determined—and puts her hand flat against my chest.
"Nice try, Halloway. But I didn't get dressed up to order room service." Her hand slides up to the back of my neck and her nails trail across my skin and my pulse trips over itself.
I don't step back, keeping her trapped between me and the doorframe, my body a whisper away from hers. "Rain check?" I ask, my fingers kneading her hip.
"Maybe." The word carries promise enough to make my blood simmer, especially when she doesn't try to put distance between us.
I move my hands up her sides, pulling her against me. "That's not a no."
"It's not a yes either," she whispers, but her eyes are dark with want.
"Yet," I say, finally stepping back before I do something that'll make us both forget about dinner entirely.
The SUV limo waiting for us outside is pure excess—leather seats, drinks chilling in ice, and enough room for a small party. Jake and Madison are already inside. Kinsley slides in first and I hear Jake whistle.
"Dang, girl. You're gonna put the rest of us to shame," Jake grins at her.
I slide in next to Kinsley and the driver shuts the door.
"Speak for yourself," Madison laughs, but there's admiration in her voice. "You look incredible, Kinsley."
"You too," Kinsley grins.
I put my arm over the back of the seat and Kinsley settles against me like she belongs there. Through the windows, Jackson Hole slides past in a blur of gallery lights and restaurant patios.
"So, what exactly happens at these things?" Kinsley asks, her fingers toying with the button on my jacket.
"They put on quite a show," Jake replies. "Fancy food and usually some pretty decent entertainment."
"Last year they had Riley Green on stage, and Jake was up there singing along like he was part of the band," Madison adds with a laugh.
"Hey, when a man knows the words, he's got to use them," Jake grins, completely unashamed. "Plus, there's an open bar, which means I can afford to buy you ladies drinks all night."
"Such a gentleman," Madison teases.
"I try," Jake says, tipping his hat. "Besides, these sponsor folks treat us real well. Figure the least I can do is enjoy myself and make sure everyone else does too."
The limo pulls up to a restaurant that looks like it was built from the mountain itself—stone and timber rising intothe night sky, warm light spilling from windows that stretch floor to ceiling. Valets in Western hats open our doors, and suddenly we're part of the spectacle that draws cameras and curious stares.
We approach the entrance where photographers wait near the door, their cameras already flashing as other guests arrive. Jake goes first, all smiles and jokes for the reporters and photographers. He eats this stuff up. Madison rolls her eyes and moves into the photo op—pushing Jake out of the way and striking a pose of her own.
I reach for Kinsley's hand. She tries to pull away from me, but I hold tight.
“Do you realize what this looks like?” she whispers.
I do and I don’t care what people think. I lean down, my lips brushing her ear as I whisper, "I offered to stay in the room, Sweetheart."
Her cheeks flush pink, and she smacks my arm. "You've got a one-track mind."
I chuckle into her hair. "Yes, and it's all focused on you." I kiss her temple before guiding us toward the cameras.
The flashes start immediately. "Wyatt Halloway! Who's your date tonight?"
I tell them her name and smile at her as if she's my everything.