Cowboys & Angels. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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      TREY ENJOYED A rowdy dinner with everyone from the Last Chance, including the prospective bride and groom. Once Trey understood the layout of the resort, he realized that his spur-of-the-moment invitation to Elle might have been impractical. The formal dining room had been appropriated for Last Chance people, which left the coffee shop and the bar for private meals. Neither of those places suited Trey’s image of treating Elle to a special dining experience.

      During dinner, the hotel manager passed around sign-up sheets for resort activities. Trey had never skied a day in his life, but he signed up for lessons when he saw that Elle was listed as one of the instructors.

      For eight months she’d been a mystery woman he couldn’t forget, but other than her voice, her eyes and that halo of blond hair, he’d known nothing about her. She could have been a teenager or a senior citizen, short or tall, plump or skinny, plain or pretty.

      And now he knew. She took his breath away. How amazing to think that Pam and Emmett’s wedding had brought him face-to-face with Elle Masterson, his angel. Hearing her voice had been a jolt. Seeing her standing there in all her glory had made him feel as if Christmas had come early this year.

      Oh, yeah, he wanted to get to know her better. He thought she might want the same thing. Her blue eyes had sparkled with interest when she’d looked at him, so even though she’d thrown up roadblocks, he would persevere. That flash of sexual attraction had been decidedly mutual.

      He understood why she’d be wary of getting involved with a resort guest, but he’d only be in that category for a few days. If he laid the groundwork now, he could build on it later, when he was no longer a guest.

      Something had clicked for him the moment he’d rounded that corner in the gift shop and laid eyes on her. She might think coincidence had made her drive past where he’d swerved off the road, but now that they’d met, he wouldn’t call it coincidence. He’d call it destiny.

      After dinner, he and Watkins checked out the wedding ceremony venue, a large space with exposed beams and warm wood paneling. In daylight, when the ceremony would take place, the curtained windows would look out on pines and ski slopes. The candlelit reception in the evening was scheduled for the adjoining ballroom. Trey and Watkins would play then, too.

      “It’ll be real nice,” Watkins said, looking around the room where the wedding would take place. “The acoustics should be decent, too. I’m glad they carpeted the floor.”

      “Did you want to practice tonight?”

      “Nah, let’s not.” Watkins smoothed his handlebar mustache. “There’s a country-and-western band playing in the bar, and Mary Lou wants to dance. She doesn’t get to do that whenever I’m playing, so this will be a treat for both of us. She’s probably already in the bar ready to boot scoot.”

      “Before you go, I wanted to tell you something.”

      Watkins, who was a good six inches shorter than Trey and at least fifty pounds heavier, glanced up at him. “What’s that, son?”

      Trey liked that Watkins called him “son.” Trey’s folks were both gone, his mom from cancer and his dad in an oil rig accident. Although Trey had come to grips with not having living parents, he reveled in the family atmosphere of the Last Chance and appreciated how Watkins and Mary Lou had taken him under their wing.

      “I’ve found her,” he said. “My angel. She works at the resort.”

      “No kidding!”

      “She’s one of the ski instructors, and her name is Elle Masterson.”

      “Well, I’ll be.” Watkins stroked his mustache again. “What’s she like?”

      “Perfect.”

      “Hold on there, cowboy. No woman’s perfect. You know how I feel about Lou-Lou, but I’d be the first СКАЧАТЬ