Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Her eyes traveled over his black T-shirt stretched across a hard, defined chest, then down to the narrow cut of his waist and the worn denim clinging to his hips. She didn’t bother pretending she wasn’t looking. She would bet her last dollar there were cowboy boots on his feet. “You could even be an extra if you wanted.”
That smile came full on this time, slow and devastating, and nearly knocked her back a step. “Darlin’, I don’t want to be an extra.” His tone dipped, playful now, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her equilibrium.
Darlin’. Again. The word curled through her thoughts, warm and unforced. Montana drawl, she reminded herself.
So she couldn’t charm him with the offer of screen time. Yeah. There was nothing extra about this guy. He was all leading man, whether he wanted the role or not. “Are you sure? We could bring more business your way.”
“I appreciate the offer, Bianca,” he said, polite but firm, “but Adam’s is not available for movie rental.”
“It would take two days,” she pressed. “Three days, tops.” She held his gaze, unwilling to be the first to look away. “I’ve scouted for a dozen movies, and I know a perfect location when I find one.”
He studied her then, his expression sharpening as he spoke. “You’re good at your job?”
“Yes,” she said, heat creeping into her cheeks.
“How does one become a location scout?” The question came easily, curiosity threading through his voice, the edge of challenge gone, replaced by interest.
She shrugged. “Like most jobs. My mother married her fifth husband and he was a Hollywood director.” She paused. “They died about five years ago. I was already around sets and took a job as a PA to start, helped out, and noticed things other people didn’t.”
He leaned closer, close enough that the scent of warm bourbon wrapped around her, rich and unmistakable. Of course it did. He was surrounded by it. “What did you notice?”
Was he flirting? It felt like flirting, subtle and dangerous, and that was a problem. Darlin’ or not, she couldn’t afford to fall for some charismatic bar owner. She wasn’t built for flings, and usually small townspeople ended up disliking her after a movie shoot, even when she followed the contracts. “I don’t know,” she said, lifting one shoulder. “How light falls at different times. Which places can handle trucks. How to work with a small town.”
“Why Montana?” His voice was quieter now, closer.
She shrugged, meeting his eyes. The guy didn’t need her resume. He certainly didn’t need to know that the production company was owned by her cousin, her one and only relative in the world, who needed her help. Bad. This had to work.
The door opened then, breaking the moment, and two elderly women hurried inside with their arms loaded with baskets of yellow Alstroemeria, their blooms just opening. Adam moved immediately around the bar and reached for the bundle held by the nearest woman. “Mrs. Hudson, I told you I’d come out and get these.”
“Oh no, dear,” Mrs. Hudson replied cheerfully. “The Lady Elks are a full-service organization.” She deposited several small baskets into his hands and turned to her friend. “Right, Bernie?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Bernie said, carrying small pink potted versions. “Sweet Adam, I’ll just start putting these pretty lilies on the tables. We so appreciate your support for our spring fundraiser, and these should last a couple of weeks.”
Adam started placing the baskets in the center of each table. “Of course.”
Another woman walked in carrying several more bouquets. She appeared to be in her twenties with blonde hair and light blue eyes. “I think we have enough,” she laughed.
Adam moved toward her to take them off her hands. “I agree. It’s nice of you to donate so many of these at a discount, Ellen.”
Ellen grinned. “The Lady Elks can be persuasive.” She looked at Bianca. “Hi. I’m Ellen, your local flower guru.”
Bianca grinned. “Bianca. It’s nice to meet you. I love working with flowers and plants.” She paused. “If they have intact roots, you could replant them outside after ten days. You’d need deep mulch and a bit of shelter.” Her hands itched to help.
“Well, hello,” Mrs. Hudson said, walking toward Bianca. Dressed in a blue tracksuit bedazzled down both sides, she cocked her head and studied Bianca. “Are you a gardener?”
Wouldn’t that be nice? “No,” Bianca said.
Mrs. Hudson squinted and pursed her red-painted lips. Her expression cleared. “Bianca Estrada, is that you?”
Adam paused with a basket halfway to a table and turned toward them. “Um. Yes, it is.”
Bianca shook her head, already smiling. “I’m so sorry, I don’t…”
“Sweetheart. How could you remember me?” Mrs. Hudson asked warmly. “It’s been eons. I’m Patty Hudson.” She stepped forward and engulfed Bianca in a lilac-scented hug. “Oh, you sweet girl. You just grew up as beautiful as I knew you would. How are you?” She pulled back just long enough to clasp both of Bianca’s hands.