wanted to. Technically it wouldn’t be abandoning her principles about getting involved with a man at work because they weren’t at work. “Okay.”
They walked into the tent, where a bar was set up just inside the entrance. Alex ordered white wine for her and a beer for himself, then guided her to an unoccupied white-cloth-covered table in a secluded corner. Small white lights and flower arrangements of roses, orchids and star lilies transformed the interior into something magical.
As the setting and wine worked their magic on her, Ellie began to relax. He pulled out a chair for her, and when they sat and faced each other their knees brushed.
“So, tell me about your spectacular failure,” she said.
“I was married.”
Past tense. She appreciated the straightforward honesty. It was information the jerk at her very first job had kept from her. Just to be sure, she asked, “‘Was’?”
“Divorced.” He took a long drink from his beer, and there was something so masculine about the way his neck muscles moved as he swallowed.
“How did you meet her?”
“On the job.”
Wasn’t that always the way? It was why she was ultra cautious now. The only problem with not trusting was the intense loneliness. Touching Alex even a little made her miss having a man hold her, kiss her. Love her.
“Was this in college?”
“Nope. I was the boss and needed an executive assistant. She was qualified. And beautiful. It turned into more.” Even the dim lighting couldn’t hide the way his mouth pulled tight. “Then she told me she was pregnant.”
“So you married her.”
“And convinced her to move to Blackwater Lake because it’s a great place to raise kids.”
“She didn’t like it here?”
“Partly. Mostly she didn’t like me all that much.”
“Idiot.”
He smiled. “I appreciate that.”
Ellie was aware that she wasn’t a poster girl for great instincts where the opposite sex was concerned, but she’d seen how Alex handled the people who worked for him with amazing fairness. They’d move heaven and earth if he asked. You didn’t get that kind of loyalty by being a jerk.
“So you weren’t the one to end it,” she said.
“No. As it turned out, instead of proposing marriage when she said she was pregnant, the question I should have asked was ‘Who’s the father?’”
The meaning of his words sank in. “Oh, no—she let you believe you—”
“Yeah. I enjoyed having a son while it lasted.” There was raw bitterness in his voice now. “Dylan was almost a year old when she said she wanted his real father to raise him.”
She could see the truth on his face. “Y’all loved that little boy.”
“I sure did.”
“I’m sorry, Alex—”
“Don’t be.”
“It’s not pity,” she protested. “I’m sorry for that child because his mother is a moron. Y’all are probably better off, except that you miss that baby.”
“He’s not a baby anymore. It’s been two and a half years.”
“I shouldn’t have made you talk about it. Especially on such a happy occasion.” She looked around and saw that the tables were filling up with people ready to celebrate another couple’s love.
“I’m not sorry.” He tapped his bottle against her glass. “Got you to have a drink with me.”
“That’s true.” Got her to soften a little toward him, too. Maybe more than a little, and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. She finished off her wine and stood. Applause erupted when the bride and groom, hand in hand, walked in with the wedding party trailing behind them. “I need to go find a table.”
“Stay.” Alex reached out and loosely encircled her wrist in his strong fingers. There was surprise in his eyes now, and he didn’t look particularly happy about saying it, but he also didn’t let her go. “I bared my soul. Isn’t that worth a drink and dinner?”
Again, the touch felt so good. The warmth peeled back several layers of protection that hid her loneliness from the rest of the world. It had been so long since a man had touched her, casually or any other way. And nearly as long since she’d allowed herself to consider having dinner with a man. She simply couldn’t make herself pull free.
Sitting back down, she said, “That would be nice.”
If she hadn’t really wanted to stay, it would have been easy to walk away. But she couldn’t walk away and just hoped everything would be fine.
Chapter Two
The reception was just as beautiful as the wedding had been. Adam and Jill had their first dance as husband and wife. His brother, who was the best man, had made a toast to the happy couple. Maggie Potter, the matron of honor, had wished them a lifetime of happiness, and her words were particularly poignant because her own happily-ever-after had been cut short when her husband was killed in Afghanistan.
Dinner was delicious and the red velvet cake cut without incident by the newlyweds, as in no icing had ended up where it shouldn’t have been. Servers were distributing pieces to the seated guests, and Ellie had taken a bite because it would have been bad luck not to. This was an excellent time for her to slip away. She needed to go because of how badly she wanted to stay, and that was all Alex’s fault.
She looked at him as he chewed the last bite of his cake. “It’s been a lot of fun—”
“Don’t say it,” he warned.
“What?”
“That you’re leaving.”
“Maybe I was going to tell you that this is the best wedding I’ve ever been to.”
“No.” He shook his head.
“I could have been planning to say that I was late for plate-spinning practice.”
The corners of his mouth curved up in a heart-stopping smile. “I have a feeling you’re not the plate-spinning type. No, your tone clearly leaned toward preparing for a quick getaway.”
“I had no idea y’all were so perceptive.”
“Well, I am. Lesson number one in not judging a book by its cover.”
“And just how did I do that?”
“You thought I was just another pretty face.”
That made her smile, because she just couldn’t help herself. “Now you’re fishing for compliments, Mr. McKnight. Y’all are attempting to get me to list all the reasons I know you’re an intelligent man.”
His brown eyes sparkled with interest. “You think I’m smart?”
“I know so.” No one would accuse her of exemplary judgment where men were concerned, but she’d worked with him long enough to know he was no dummy. “Y’all handle construction crews with a firm, fair hand. Your budget is running five percent under the estimate, and no one in Blackwater Lake has a single thing to say about your personal life.” And she’d done her subtle, yet level best to pry information out of the crew, but more than one person said there was nothing to tell.
“Maybe I don’t have a personal life.”
“Now you’re underestimating me.” She laughed. “Of course a man like you has one. It’s just not here in town.”
“I’m impressed.”