Rhett and I arranged to have lunch at twelve-fifteen on Tuesday. I arrived six minutes early. He was three minutes late. I paced in front of the bench until I saw him round the bend of the path then I dove into my seat, pretending to scroll through emails on my phone.

“Am I late?” he asked.

“Yes.” The rest of my thoughts disappeared when I caught sight of his eyes. They were warm and gentle.

“My meeting ran late.” As he spoke, he removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to reveal his sinewy forearms. Sexy, delectable arms.

“Your eyes are gray today,” I murmured, falling headlong into their depths.

“Must be going to rain,” he said.

“They were blue on Sunday.”

“Yeah?” He cocked his head, locking his gaze with mine. Flecks of navy, gold, and charcoal dotted his irises. One corner of his mouth curled up in his familiar lopsided grin. I smiled back, feeling his grin all the way into my center.

“It’s caused by a change in the size of your pupils. When they dilate, they compress the pigments, causing the eye to darken. Unless, of course, you have heterochromia—either partial or central, which isn’t good. That usually happens when you’ve got a tumor or glaucoma or—” I stopped talking midsentence. His brows had drawn together. “Or it might just be the weather,” I concluded lamely.

He threw his head back and laughed, a throaty, heartfelt sound. “Bronte, you never cease to amaze me.”

I flushed and bit my lower lip, glancing down at the ground. “Most of the time, when people say that, it isn’t in a good way.” Jo had warned me to keep my nerd talk to myself. I waited for him to walk away, but instead, he took my brown paper bag and peered inside.

“No, I mean it. You’re full of surprises.” He tapped the tip of my nose with an index finger. “Keep them coming.”

“Deal.” A smile tugged at my lips.

“So, what have we got here?” He dropped a hand into my brown paper bag and rustled around before drawing out the items, one by one. “An apple and a peanut butter sandwich. No jelly?”

“It’s here.” I removed a plastic packet of jelly I’d brought from the coffee shop. “I don’t like to put the jelly on until the last minute.”

“Because you don’t want to muddle the flavors?” he asked.

“No, silly. Because the jelly bleeds into the bread and makes it soggy.”

“Of course.” He nodded, his expression serious, but his eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement.

“What did you bring?” I reached for his lunch bag. It was nylon, insulated, with a Porsche emblem on the side. I unzipped the top and peered inside. Everything was neat and orderly, organized to maximize space. “Very nice.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it.” He winked at me. “And I brought this for you.” From inside his jacket, he withdrew a single, long-stemmed rose.

“Thank you.” My pulse skipped a beat. No one had ever given me a flower before. I lifted the blossom to my nose and inhaled the sweet scent.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed relaxed, long legs extended in front of him, one arm thrown over the back of the bench behind me. The wind ruffled his hair, giving him a boyish air. My fingers curled, resisting the urge to brush the unruly locks away from his forehead.

“Hey, Rhett. Beautiful day, isn’t it?” A tall blond man stopped in front of us. His fingers threaded through the hand of a smiling brunette. Her opposite hand rested on the swell of her pregnant belly.

“You’ve been working really hard. I’m glad you’re taking advantage of it,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess summer’s over, but you wouldn’t know it by the weather today,” Rhett said. The woman’s gaze landed on me. “Hey, I’m sorry. This is Bronte Hollander. Bronte, this is Sam and Dakota Seaforth. Dakota’s my boss.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Bronte’s going to the dinner with me on Saturday,” Rhett added.

“Is that so?” Sam’s eyebrows lifted.

Dakota’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s wonderful. I’m so glad.” Her genuine smile eased my nerves at meeting someone new. “Come and see me when you get there, will you, Bronte? I’ll make sure Rhett shows you a good time.”

“Not a problem,” Rhett said.

“Hey, let’s leave them alone so they can eat their lunches.” Sam tugged on his wife’s hand. “We’ll see you later.”

“They seem nice,” I said, watching them stride along the pathway. Sam eased his arm around Dakota and dropped a kiss on her forehead. She leaned her head on his shoulder. I wanted that for myself someday, but the dream seemed too far out of reach. I knew in my heart that I was destined to be alone.

“They’re awesome,” Rhett replied. “I still can’t believe they hired me. I didn’t have half as much experience as some of the other candidates, but Sam said he valued integrity and honesty over a nice resume. He’s all about developing his employees. A few years working for him, and I’ll be able to get a job anywhere in the world.”

As my thoughts flitted from the Seaforths to their party on Saturday, butterflies began to tumble in my stomach. I’d have to meet new people in a strange environment where I had no control over anything. I swallowed hard and wiped my sweaty palms across my thighs.

“Bronte?” Rhett touched my arm, jerking me into the present. “Are you okay?’

“I don’t think I can go Saturday,” I said. It was better to be honest. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“You’re not backing out. You already promised.”

“Will there be a lot of people there?”

“I don’t know. A dozen or so couples.”

“No, I can’t.” Panic began to swell inside me. I threw the half-eaten sandwich into the bag, preparing to flee.

“Bronte. Stop.” His words stilled my frantic movements. “Hey.” Warm fingertips grazed the curve of my jaw. When I looked into his eyes, the frantic beating of my heart shifted into a new rhythm. “You don’t have to be scared. Not with me at your side. I promise to take good care of you.”

“You will?”

“The best.”

* * *

Jo’s voice squealed through the phone. I held it away from my ear and grimaced. Dogs must have been howling for a two-mile radius. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to have dinner with Samuel Seaforth?”

“Yes. Why would I lie?” I asked, confused at the question.

“Because he’s only the richest, hottest guy on the planet,” she shouted.

“I don’t know about that, but he seems very nice. And so does his wife.”

“You freaking met Dakota Seaforth? Oh, my God. Wait till I tell Dad. He’s going to shit.”

“Stop yelling and pay attention,” I said, feeling my patience wane. “I need help. It’s a cocktail party, and I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Okay, sorry.” Her heavy breathing carried across the phone. She sounded like she’d just finished a footrace. “Of course, I’ll help. Leave it all to me.”