I’m not afraid. Maybe I should be, because I don’t know this man, and now we’re alone, away from the others, and night has fallen. But something about him puts me at ease, and besides, this may be my only chance to talk and flirt with a real man before I’m tied to Mateo.
As we walk, I study Blue out of the corner of my eye. He’s tall and handsome in a rugged way, but the look is softened by his light brown hair and pretty blue eyes. I suppose that must be where he got his name. Surely, Blue can’t be his given name.
He seems very assertive. Self-confidence radiates off him, and I get the feeling there isn’t a room he couldn’t walk intoand own just by his mere presence. I know what he is, and I’m sure that explains his self-assurance. He’s one of the motorcycle men my father befriended after the fire. Not at all the kind of men I should associate with, but my father did invite them to the wedding, and they did stop to help him that day, so he must trust them, right? Surely, I have nothing to fear.
Besides, something about him at my side makes me feel protected, like he’d take care of me. Is it odd that I feel this way? After all, we’ve just met.
Blue smiles, and my heart does a little flip.
“What are you thinking, pretty girl?”
“Just that you’re not the kind of man I would expect my father to invite to his daughter’s wedding.”
“I guess not. I was a little shocked myself when my president told us all we’d be attending.”
“I bet you don’t go to many weddings.”
“You’d be right about that.” He chuckles and laces our fingers together. “Tell me about yourself, Luisa.”
I shrug, hating that there’s nothing exciting to say. “What do you want to know?”
He lifts his shoulders in return. “How about your favorite color?”
“Blue,” I say without realizing the double meaning until the word is out of my mouth. Then I blush and look away, but not before catching his grin widen.
“Blue. I like that.”
“What’s yours?” I ask, knowing we’re just making mundane small talk when if I were brave enough there are a million things I’d like to ask this man.
His eyes sweep over my gown. “I’m really likin’ this color right now. What’s it called?”
“I think the designer called it garnet, but it’s really just burgundy.”
“Like the wine.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“The dress is gorgeous on you, Luisa. Fits every curve.”
“Thank you.” I flush again, liking the sound of my name on his tongue. His compliment makes me melt. I haven’t received male flattery like thisever.
“All those girls today—standing up there for your sister—you were the prettiest one. Hell, you’re the prettiest girl here tonight.”
“You’re just saying that,” I whisper, eating up every word.
“It’s the truth. What’s the matter? Don’t you get compliments like that all the time?”
I huff a laugh and shake my head. “Definitely not.”
“Come on, there must be a line of guys wanting a crumb of your attention tossed their way.”
“And what about you?” I counter. “Is there a line of women after you?”
“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “Not talking about me. I want to know about you. What’s your favorite flower?” he asks, surprising me.
I frown. “I’ve never thought about it, but I suppose if I had to choose, I’d say the orchid.” He nods and I giggle. “You don’t know what that is, do you?”
“Not a clue,” he admits, then reaches over and snaps a white blossom off the nearest pecan tree. Before I know what he’s about to do, he tucks it in the hair above my ear. Staring into his eyes, a flash of desire jolts through me. He leans closer, and I think he’s going to kiss me, but before he does, the phone in my beaded wristlet bag chimes.
