Frozen in place, Weslee tried to gather her wits as Dallin Morrison approached her. The man was like American royalty and incredibly handsome, looking like a younger version of George Clooney and Ryan Reynolds mixed together. However, the wealthy rancher turned politician wasn’t the reason Weslee could barely think straight, let alone breathe.

No, the blame for her temporary bout of senselessness rested solely on her bodyguard and his hand planted on her lower back. His fingers pressed more firmly against her as he stepped closer to her side, thankfully only coming into contact with the fabric of her dress. Her skin still burned where his fingers had briefly touched her.

Dallin was heading straight for her. While she didn’t know him personally, she knew he’d recently become a fan of Ground Zero. Over the past six months, he had frequently posted pics to his Instagram account of him fishing, hiking or working out while wearing a Ground Zero shirt and hat.

Blake, one of the marketing guys in charge of handling VIP customers, had made a connection with Dallin at one of the archery tournaments Weslee had missed during her time off to grieve for her parents. More than once, Blake had told her that Mr. Morrison wanted to meet her in person. Apparently, that meeting was going to take place right now.

Logan dropped his hand and stepped partially in front of her. Dallin didn’t seem to notice him, his eyes strictly on Weslee. “Miss Campbell,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Dallin Morrison and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

“Thank you, Mr. Morrison,” she said, placing her hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you too.” His hand was warm and slightly callused, confirming he knew how to work. His mocha colored eyes regarded her warmly and with open admiration, yet not one single butterfly danced in her stomach.

“Please,” he said, giving her hand a little squeeze, “call me Dallin.”

“All right, Dallin.” She pulled her hand free. “But only if you call me Weslee.”

“Weslee.” He smiled again, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I understand you were named after your father.”

“Yes. It was his middle name.” Unwanted emotion blurred her vision at the mention of her daddy. She blinked, clearing away the moisture. A captive audience surrounded them and she didn’t want to embarrass herself by crying.

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Compassion sobered his features. This man was no stranger to grief. He’d lost his wife to a fast-growing brain tumor shortly after the birth of their daughter. “I know your parents were both proponents of humanitarian work.”

“Thank you,” she said, licking her lips. “Helping the less fortunate was their passion.”

“I know. It’s one of the reasons I was introduced to Ground Zero.” He pulled his hands free and patted his flat stomach. “Your products work too. Helped me lose the few pounds I always manage to put on during the winter.”

“He’s convinced me,” a woman whispered loudly. She nudged her husband in the side. “Bid high on the Ground Zero packages, Albert.”

Dallin flashed the couple a white-toothed smile. “You won’t be sorry,” he said, giving the woman a wink. “Everything tastes amazing too.”

The murmuring crowd dispersed, heading toward the auction tables. Weslee shook her head in amazement. “You probably just tripled the amount of money the auctions will go for.”

“Good.” He considered her for a long moment, his brown eyes thoughtful as if contemplating something serious. “Would you—”

His question was interrupted by a booming voice thanking everyone for coming out to support such an important cause and announcing the auction would begin in a few minutes.

“Before we get started, I’d like to have Mr. Dallin Morrison say a few words.”

Surprise flitted across Dallin’s face but he quickly hid it behind a smile. Obviously, he hadn’t planned on giving a speech, making Weslee wonder why he’d come tonight. Surely he hadn’t come just to meet her.

Dallin met Weslee’s eyes, giving her a slight nod of his head before he excused himself. While he worked his way up to the podium, the MC talked about Dallin being a last-minute guest and thanked him for his support. He went on to praise Dallin for his humanitarian work, mentioning that he was going to run for the Senate when his father retired.

So his appearance was all for politics. She felt silly for thinking it had anything to do with her. Not that she was interested in dating someone like Dallin Morrison. Although she found him attractive and knew he was a good man, she didn’t feel any kind of spark around him, but maybe that was a good thing. No fireworks meant stability. Chemistry didn’t necessarily lead to long-lasting relationships.

It’s why she kept shooting down Robbie Whitaker, even though at one time she would’ve jumped at the chance to go out with him. Robbie’s parents owned the beach house next to theirs on Emerald Isle. He was their only child and was the quintessential spoiled rich boy, blessed with unbelievably good looks and a charming personality.

Weslee had fallen in love with him the first time she met him. She’d been fifteen and he was twenty-six. Mature for her age and blessed with curves most women never achieved without the help of surgical implants, Robbie noticed her and had flirted with her, even though he had a serious girlfriend. Aside from the vast age difference, Robbie was also a single dad to an eight-year-old son he’d fathered his senior year of high school. It was kind of weird that she was closer in age to his son, Josh, than she was to Robbie. By the time Weslee was old enough to finally date Robbie, the man was married to wife two. She’d also gotten smarter about the kind of man he was.

Although he’d grown even more handsome with each passing year and still charmed her, she was too smart to fall for someone like him. Apparently, he’d just divorced wife number four, and he had decided that it was about time he and Weslee officially went out on a date to explore their mutual attraction. Yes, he’d actually texted her that, along with continually begging her to return to the Emerald Isle house. He and Josh were living with the Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker while their house was under construction. Robbie was building a huge home a few miles down the coastline and couldn’t wait to show it to Weslee.

His text messages always made her laugh because his pick-up lines were so cliché. She had to admit that part of her was flattered even though she knew he was a total player. Over the past month, he’d been pretty consistent about wanting to go out with her, telling her he refused to go out with any other women until she at least gave him a chance. Her responses weren’t as flirtatious, which made him think she was playing hard to get. She just didn’t want to encourage him since her crush had faded over the years.

Logan made her jump when he lightly touched his hand to her elbow. She’d been so lost in thought that she’d missed Dallin’s opening statement.

“Sorry,” Logan said, having to lean in close to her ear to be heard over the applause for the future senator. His warm breath started a cascade of shivers that awakened the dormant butterflies in her stomach, making them go wild again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She turned to assure him he hadn’t startled her and their mouths nearly collided. “Oh,” she said, moving away from him. “You’re fine…I mean, I’m fine.”

One corner of his mouth edged up. “Good to know,” Logan whispered, now that the crowd had quieted in order to hear Dallin speak. “And I think you’re fine too.”

Weslee narrowed her eyes, wanting to clarify that she’d just been tongue-tied. She hadn’t meant to call him fine in a I-think-you’re-hot kind of fine. Except…she did think that.

Something dark flickered in Logan’s eyes as Dallin said something that made everyone chuckle. “I believe Mr. Morrison thinks you’re exceptionally fine.” His eyes lingered on hers. “I’m not sure I liked the way he looked at you.”

“How did he look at me?” she asked. “Surely you don’t believe he poses a threat?”

A shadow crossed Logan’s face as a muscle in his jaw ticked. “No, ma’am,” he said, edging back ever so slightly. “I don’t believe he poses a threat to you.”

Weslee got the feeling his answer had a double meaning and wanted to press him further, but he was no longer looking at her. He was all business now, like a soldier on his watch. She tuned in to Dallin’s voice. He encouraged everyone to be generous with their donations, reminding the crowd that children were the future.

The auction began shortly after Dallin ended his impassioned speech. At the auctioneer’s request, the future senator remained on the podium. It was a smart move. Dallin motivated people to make substantial bids. Weslee was sure the event would end up bringing in more money than it had in the past.

Throughout the auction, Logan remained aloof and serious, managing to look sexy and brooding while he was at it. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to notice all the admiring glances many of the female patrons were giving him. Weslee noticed though…and it bothered her. Bothered her so much that she found herself wanting to inch closer and closer. Maybe she would slip her hand in his to send out the message that he was hers.

Except he wasn’t hers. He was her bodyguard.

As the auction came to a close, her stomach was a jumbled mess of angst, envy, and hunger. She placed her hand on Logan’s forearm. His muscles were tense and she felt like she’d latched onto a slab of marble. “Are you as hungry as I am?” she asked when he looked down at her.

A slow smile curved his lips. “I guess you could say that.”

Weslee tried not reading anything into his sexy smile or the possible innuendo, but she liked the way he was looking at her and hoped the other women eyeing him got the message they were together. She wished she hadn’t made such a big fuss about him not being her boyfriend. It was too late to tell him she’d changed her mind.

“Okay.” She tightened her hold on his arm. “We should get something to eat before the dance starts.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They made their way to the buffet tables, Weslee clutching the fabric of his sleeve in an effort to remain close to him. She was fully aware of the two women trailing behind them. They had openly admired Logan and didn’t have any qualms about following him.

The buffet held a variety of delicious food. Logan handed her a plate, forcing her to let go of him. “This actually looks edible,” he said, choosing a variety of gourmet appetizers.

Weslee added a few things, but her appetite wasn’t nearly as healthy as his. The two women who had followed them to the buffet table had their eyes trained on Logan as if he was on the menu and they wanted a large helping. Again she questioned why she had made such a fuss about him posing as her boyfriend. Now, if she danced with anyone else, Logan would be free to dance too. She didn’t like thinking about him dancing with anyone else but her.

Dallin Morrison single-handedly ensured the auction items sold at a premium price, so there wasn’t really a need to stay for the dance. Except for the opportunity to dance with Logan. She may never get the chance again.

She glanced at the two women who had moved to the end of the table near the desserts. They had no intention of indulging in the delicious sweets. Both of them looked like scarecrows with big boobs. Anyone that emaciated would not be so well-endowed without the help from a plastic surgeon. No, the women were here for one thing. Her bodyguard.

A knot of possessiveness twisted inside her stomach. On impulse, she edged around Logan, purposely brushing her arm against his as she did so. It was shameful, really, to use physical contact like a weapon. Especially for a southern girl who had been reared to be a lady from the time she’d learned to walk. Hopefully she emitted the same magnitude of electricity with her touch as he did with his, otherwise, he’d think she just wanted to get to the desserts before he did.

“My goodness, I don’t think you have any room for dessert,” she said with a light laugh. “We better find a table to eat at and then come back if you still have room.”

An amused expression crossed his face. “Thanks, but there’s always room for dessert.” He looked over her head to where the two women waited. A crooked smile appeared on his handsome face as he looked back at Weslee. “I might even get two.”

A pit formed in her stomach. He was referring to the dessert, right? “I hope you don’t make yourself sick,” she said, not sure where all this craziness was coming from. “Too much sugar is bad for you.”

His grin widened. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They moved in tandem, Weslee determined to stay in front of him. Logan made a move similar to hers as he went around her except he didn’t touch her in the process. “Hello, ladies,” he said to his admirers. “Any recommendations for dessert?”

Hearing him flirt made the pit in her stomach open up as wide as the Grand Canyon. Jealousy was a horrible feeling. She had never experienced it quite at this level. What did that mean? She’d known Logan Steele for only a few days. Not even long enough to develop a healthy crush, yet she was ready to get into a fight with two women just for looking at him.

One of the girls laughed a deep, throaty laugh like she was a smoker. “I have a few ideas you might like,” she said in a husky voice. “Depends on how big of an appetite you have.”

The suggestive tone made Weslee sick to her stomach with jealousy. Too afraid Logan might actually flirt back, she couldn’t look at him and needed to leave. Abandoning her plate, she lifted her skirt up and turned to walk away.

Logan’s hand circled her wrist like a manacle. How dare he make her stay and listen to the women openly proposition him. “Oh, it’s not for me,” he said, gently tightening his hold when she tried to free herself. “It’s for my girlfriend.”