“Well, he’s kind of shy,” Topper says, scratching the back of his neck.
“I’m going to help get everyone’s luggage to their rooms,” Rusty says before tipping his hat to us and going back into the lodge.
“Oh, thank you!” Allie waves.
Leo slaps his sunglasses on his face like he’s filming an action movie. “Let’s go meet the owner.” He snatches Allie by the hand and she grabs my arm, tugging me with her.
My heart seizes in my chest as I wrench my arm free from Allie’s grasp. “Oh, I’m good up here.”
“No, you’re not,” Allie says with a wide grin.
“Uh, why don’t I show y’all to your rooms,” Topper says. “I’m sure you’re pretty tired.”
“Yes, please. I am tired. Thank you,” I try to glare at Allie and Leo, but they are already headed back to the lobby.
“I’m sorry about them,” I say. “They’re excited to dive into all of this.”
Topper chuckles. “I like it. C’mon, I’ll take y’all down in a golf cart.”
hell on heels
DUKE
I clench my fist,admiring it for a second—can’t wait to see it make contact with Topper’s face. Told him I wanted no part of these shenanigans, yet here he comes, all charm and chatter, driving the golf cart with those New Yorkers in tow. With a sigh, I rest my forehead against Goose, the only friend I can trust now, before leading him into the paddock for a drink.
“That’s a good boy,” I say, scratching his side, “C’mon now. Get a drink before we ride the hell away from these people.”
Goose bobs his head.
He knows.
He then dips his head in the trough as Topper rolls up.
“Howdy, Duke!” Topper exclaims. “The team from World Explorer is here.”
“I can see that,” I say, turning my attention back to Goose.
A man wearing crisp khakis and a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows gets out first after talking to the two women sitting in the back seat of the cart. He looks like a pretty boy who models sweaters in his spare time, but surprisingly, he has a strong grip when he shakes my hand.
“I’m Leo, the videographer,” he says, flashing the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen. “This is Allie Whitlock, production manager and that’s Roxanne Denning. She’s the writer.”
Leo tips his chin toward the blond waiting in the golf cart as Allie steps forward to shake my hand.
“Oh my goodness, you are a sight,” Allie says with an equally strong grip. “What’s in the water in Colorado? Am I right?”
Topper laughs. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Of course. Sorry, didn’t mean to make you blush. Actually, maybe I did.” She’s cute enough with a mound of brown hair on top of her head. Rosy lips and cheeks and a fit body in a loose onesie jumper over a tank top. She looks like a yoga instructor, and I’m surprised she’s as friendly as she is being from New York.
My eyes dart away from Allie and land on Roxanne who finally steps out of the cart. I can’t stop staring, A, because she’s stunning, and B, because she’s out in a damn horse paddock with high heels on. Thank goodness I’m wearing sunglasses because I can’t help but take in the rest of her.
Long legs, and not the skinny kind that unhealthy models have. Her legs have a lovely shape to them. This woman was probably an athlete at some point in her life. She’s wearing a dress that is a thousand percent inappropriate for the setting, but a billion times appropriate for hugging every curvaceous part of her body. Ruby red pouty lips and long blond hair.
Mercy.
The last thing I notice …
She doesn’t shake my hand when we’re introduced.
