Good lord, the woman looked nine.
“I can’t believe you came,” she breathed out.
“Told you I would.”
She smiled and her smile lit up the room. I could see why he liked her. She turned to me and held out her hand. “I’m Arianna.”
“Wyatt.”
“Oh my god, that’s such a great name.”
“Thanks.”
“Come and meet Len,” she said.
Sundance wrapped an arm around my waist, leaning down to whisper, “Arianna’s boyfriend.”
“Oh.”
He chuckled. “You can stow the jealousy, Dimples. Ari’s the same age as my daughter and I don’t play in the kiddie pool.”
“I’m not jealous,” I lied.
He gave me a squeeze, then guided me to where Arianna’s boyfriend was standing with an older couple who I guessed were Arianna’s parents. She looked exactly like her mother.
Her father eyed Sundance a little more judgmentally than I liked, but Arianna’s enthusiasm seemed to smooth over any disapproval as she introduced us to her family and boyfriend.
“Oh, this is the man—” her mother started.
“Sorry, Mom, I need to show Sundance a couple of these pictures,” Arianna interrupted. “This way.”
“It was nice to meet you,” I said as Sundance took my hand again and followed Arianna.
An hour later, Sundance had had enough. “You hungry?”
“Very,” I admitted.
“Let’s go.”
We said goodbye to Arianna, then made our escape, heading out of Monument and into Colorado Springs to a hole in the wall Mexican place I’d never heard of before. Actually, less of a hole in the wall and more of a food truck built into the side of a building.
“Tacos good?” Sundance asked as he parked.
“Tacos are perfect,” I breathed out. “I’m starving.”
He grinned and got out of the truck, walking to my side and helping me down, once again taking my hand as we walked to the window.
I couldn’t remember a time when holding a man’s hand made me this giddy. Silly, really, but I liked him. I mean, I hardly knew him, but what I’d seen so far impressed me. He loved his kids like crazy, took chemo like a freakin’ champ, and looked like something out of a biker fashion magazine. Plus, I kind of wanted to follow the veins in his arms with my tongue. Just to see where they led. Mostly because I knew they’d lead to delicious places.
“What do you want?”
“All of it,” I retorted, and he grinned.
“Got any food allergies?”
“Just cilantro.”
“You’re allergic to cilantro?”
