“Wowza. Hottie in a convertible alert,” one of the guests, Linda Dougherty, commented from the chair closest to Bonnie’s.
Her husband, Andy, grumbled from her other side, “I am still here, you know.”
“Why, yes, you are,” Linda shot back at him with a bright smile. “And weren’t you the one who mentioned just yesterday that you think the owner of Bride Mountain Café is a knockout?”
He chuckled, sounding unabashed. “I might have noticed in passing.”
“I thought so.”
Smiling at their byplay, Bonnie stood. “If you’ll excuse me, that’s my ride.”
“Lucky you,” Linda said.
Andy made a show of looking at his watch. “Maybe we should head down to the café. I’m in the mood for a big slice of pie.”
He grunted when his wife punched him on the arm.
Paul tugged off his sunglasses to greet Bonnie with a big smile. His short-sleeve knit shirt and nicely fitted jeans highlighted his excellent physical condition. He, too, wore boots, though she noted at once that his were traditionally Western-styled, and looked well used. They suited him, but then she hadn’t seen him in anything yet that didn’t look good on him.
He leaned down to brush a light kiss against her cheek as he reached to open the passenger side door. “You look very nice.”
“Thank you.”
He waited until she was seated, then closed her door. “I can put the top up, if you prefer.”
“Oh, no, leave it down. It’s been years since I rode in a convertible.”
He seemed pleased by her choice. As he climbed behind the wheel and slid his sunglasses back onto his nose, she pulled back her hair, securing it in a high ponytail. She put on her sunglasses and fastened her seat belt.
Paul shot a smile her way. “Ready?”
Lifting her chin, she replied boldly, “Ready.”
Grinning, he started the engine. Bonnie waved to her watching guests as they drove away from the inn, her ponytail swinging in the warm breeze.
She enjoyed feeling the wind against her cheeks as Paul drove into the mountains on winding, rising roads that offered spectacular views around each turn. She would have been content just to savor the ride, but she suspected Paul looked forward to their other plans. As if in confirmation, he spoke over the noise of the road, wind and engine. “So, you like horses?”
“I love them,” she answered candidly. “I never had one of my own, but my high school boyfriend lived on a ranch where they raised Tennessee Walkers. We rode almost every weekend until he dumped me for the local rodeo queen.”
Though she’d hoped to elicit a chuckle from him with her ironic comment, he frowned for a moment. “Sounds like a jerk.”
She laughed. “He was. To be honest, I liked his horses better than I liked him. I’m really looking forward to this ride.”
His smile had returned when he looked away from the road just long enough to slant a quick glance at her. “Great. Think of your trail rides with your sister when we mount up, not your old boyfriend, will you? Or better yet, just focus on me.”
Even though she knew he was teasing, she nodded with mock gravity. “I think I can do that.”
As if she had any choice.
Chapter Five
It really was a wonder, Paul thought a couple of hours later, that he hadn’t crashed his car right off a cliff. Okay, so maybe that was an exaggeration, since he’d been fully in control of the vehicle, but he couldn’t deny that too much of his attention had been zeroed in on Bonnie.
She always looked pretty but today, in her curve-hugging jeans and lace blouse over a low-scooped, lace-trimmed tank, with little curls escaping her loose ponytail and her face flushed by wind and sun, she was utterly irresistible.
Tim Snow, Paul’s friend who co-owned the business alliteratively named Blue Ridge Backtrails, raised both eyebrows when he watched Bonnie bonding sweetly with a saddled bay Tennessee Walker gelding. Bonnie was nose to nose with the horse, who looked as charmed by her as Paul felt. She seemed oblivious to the fact that the horse towered over her, and showed no fear when it blew a breath out its nostrils, then nuzzled her hard enough to make her wobble a bit on her feet. Bonnie merely laughed and reached up to rub the horse’s eagerly cocked ears. The sun washed over them both, bringing out the red in the Walker’s coat and the gold in Bonnie’s blond hair.
“Whoa,” Tim, who was two or three years younger than Paul, said beneath his breath. “Now that is a pretty sight.”