13
She was having dinner with Tyler. How was that even possible when they barely tolerated each other most of the time?
Kinsey took the last bite of the rosemary potatoes that had come with the filet mignon. Tyler hadn’t been wrong about the food. It had been one of the best meals she’d ever eaten. His company during the meal had been surprisingly pleasant too.
She’d enjoyed learning more about the history of the ranch, going all the way back to the original founder—Tyler’s great-great-great-grandfather, Wyatt McQuaid, who’d claimed the land through the Homestead Act and built the first log cabin on the property back in 1862.
Tyler had explained how every oldest son had been named Wyatt, Tyler, or T.W. since then and how each had played a role in the expansion and development of the ranch over the years.
While the ranch had always done well with raising cattle and with the inn connected to the hot springs, the discovery of oil on the property in the mid-1900s had allowed for the more extravagant expansions that had finally put the resort on the map.
She’d especially liked hearing all that Tyler had done for the ranch since taking over as manager. He’d been innovative and savvy and hard-working, and from what she’d witnessed over the past week and a half, he was still just as hard-working. Even though he was in charge, he was constantly out and about the ranch, helping with anything that needed doing, includingmucking out stalls, adding air to a bicycle tire, repairing a leaky sink in one of the cabins, and more.
Tyler was the kind of manager who led by example. He was never too busy or proud to do anything. He was personable with the guests and made them each feel like they mattered. Even throughout dinner, he’d paused eating to converse with anyone who passed by the table to greet him.
She could grudgingly admit Tyler wasn’t as awful as she’d originally thought. After talking with him and learning more about him during the evening, she could even concede that he was a decent guy and easy to talk to.
Not only had he shared about himself, but he’d also shown a genuine interest in learning about her. He’d asked her about her work as a traveling nurse, what she’d done before taking the job with Premier, and even about her family. She wasn’t ready to share the painful parts about losing Madison and her parents’ divorce, so she’d kept to the basics like she did for most people.
“Did you save room for dessert?” he asked as he laid his napkin across his plate.
She wiped her mouth and then set her napkin on her plate too, taking the etiquette cues from him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten in a place so fancy—maybe the time Madison had insisted on taking her out for her birthday. They’d gotten their hair and nails done, dressed up, and splurged on an exorbitant dinner in one of downtown Chicago’s classy restaurants. Not long after that, Madison had told her about the terminal diagnosis.
Tyler sat back in his chair, his features relaxed, the usual stiffness gone from his posture. “The desserts here are to die for.”
“I can’t fit another bite into this dress.” She pressed a hand against her stomach and the silky material of the dress that Emberly had insisted she borrow for the evening.
He swept his gaze over her stomach before slowly perusing upward. In the low lighting of the restaurant, his eyes were dark, but something smoldered in them—something she easily recognized as desire.
She’d seen it often enough in her life to know. And she’d seen it often enough that she usually ignored it and let it pass her by. But tonight…it wasn’t passing her by. His presence nearby was too strong, his good looks too charming, his eyes too intense for her to shake herself loose from that desire.
Instead, her insides fluttered like butterfly wings. The sensation was one she hadn’t felt in a long time, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it.
As his dark gaze lingered on her collarbones and then on the base of her neck, her breath stuck in her chest. She needed to say something light to break the growing charged tension, but she couldn’t think of anything except for how incredible he looked at the moment, how incredible he’d looked all night in his dark suit. He was like a rich piece of chocolate silk cake, delicious enough to be on the dessert menu and eaten right up.
As if he’d heard her scandalous thought, his gaze lifted and collided with hers. His eyes had turned a shade darker. As his thick lashes lowered halfway, he didn’t back down, didn’t apologize for staring, didn’t make any excuses for the blatant desire in his eyes.
The flutters inside fanned faster, sending warmth through her veins. She was tempted to press her hands to her cheeks to cool them down. But she also didn’t want Tyler to know just how much his barest look was undoing her tonight.
Live music had been playing for most of the night, and the lead singer began talking and inviting guests to dance.
Thankfully, Tyler broke his intense stare and glanced in the direction of the band and the dance floor.
She reached for her ice water and took a sip, letting the coolness seep into her overheated blood.
What was wrong with her? Why was she having such a strong reaction to Tyler tonight? Maybe it had been a mistake to agree to stay for dinner. Maybe it was blurring professional lines. After all, Premier had a no-intimate-involvement-with-patients policy. Tyler technically wasn’t her patient, but he was close enough.
She pushed back and rose from her spot. “I should get going.”
“No.” He was on his feet in the next instant too. “Don’t go yet.”
She hesitated. She secretly liked that he didn’t want her to leave. Even so, she had to put an end to the evening while the sparks between them could still be stomped out. “It’s getting late, and I really should head back to T.W.”
“You texted him thirty minutes ago, and he said he’s doing fine.”
She had been keeping close tabs on T.W. all day, checking in with him at least once an hour, even though he’d said she didn’t need to. But she’d told him she’d have more fun if she wasn’t worrying all day.
“You can’t leave without trying dessert.” Tyler’s voice was earnest. “Which means you’ll have to dance for a while to make room for it.”
