Page 2 of The Moment He Saw Her

Beautiful, he thought, with soft-arched brows and high cheekbones. Her hair was shoulder-length, caramel-colored, and he saw some golden bits that Zoe would call highlights. She wasn’t close enough to see her eyes, but he thought they may be blue or green. She was on the short side, but then most people were to him, as his family was tall.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

Her white puffy jacket came to her waist, and he doubted it or the black fitted pants beneath offered much in the way of warmth. White sneakers, too, which probably meant her toes were frozen.

If he were to label her with one look, he’d say she was what his brother Dan would call a pick-me girl. Someone who wore all the labels and, to quote his mother, was trendy. She also had a tan in the middle of winter that may or may not be out of a bottle.

“Have you been sitting in that car for an hour with no heating?”

She nodded.

Pride or stupidity—he didn’t know her well enough to decide that either.

“Do you need me to call someone to come and get you?”

She shook her head.

“Want a coffee to thaw out?”

“Yes, please.”

The words sounded desperate to Ryder, so he held out the mug he’d just made for himself. “Have at it.”

She took the bag off her shoulder and opened it.

“On me,” he added.

Her eyes went to his, narrowed. “I can pay.”

“It’s on the house. I figure you have enough to deal with.” He nodded in the direction of her car.

“No, really, I can pay.”

“Are you always this untrusting, or is it just something about me?” He felt a niggle of annoyance that his gesture wasn’t appreciated.

“I don’t know you,” she said, reaching the counter. Her nails were long and painted the color of raspberries, her hands slender, and wrists a little on the skinny side, with a slim gold link bracelet around one. One ring on her middle right-hand finger was a gold band with an enormous diamond.

It looked real, but then he didn’t know shit about diamonds. She had that look of money to him.

Taking the mug from him, she cradled it like it were her firstborn. The first mouthful had her moaning softly.

When he was done making his coffee, Ryder looked at her again. Her eyes were green, like the emerald engagement ring his dad had given Mom. Long dark lashes and a small nose. A scar ran along the edge of her jaw to just below her ear. Recent, he thought, and would have taken several stitches to close.

As if she noted his gaze, she tugged her hair forward to cover it.

“So being untrusting must make life hard,” he said.

“It makes me safe, and I don’t know you,” she said, looking at him now. He wondered what life lesson had taught her she needed to be.

“Ryder Duke,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Sorry?”

“My name is Ryder Duke.”

“Libby.”

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