“I’ll keep that in mind—” he glanced at her name tag “—Lila.”
“It’s Leila,” the redhead corrected, then frowned as another nurse motioned to her from the doorway of one of the birthing suites. Still, she offered Tripp another smile before strolling off, her hips swinging from side to side.
Adrianna fought an unexpected surge of jealousy. She waited until Leila was out of earshot, then took out her irritation on him. “Proposition? Couldn’t you think of a less suggestive word? The nurse probably thinks you want to sleep with me.”
His eyes widened.
Adrianna stifled a groan. Talk about a Freudian slip.
“Nah.” Tripp finally waved a dismissive hand. “Everyone knows we’re just friends.”
The words had barely left his lips when Adrianna’s pager buzzed. She slipped it from her pocket and glanced down. A patient she’d been following had been admitted in labor.
“If you have a proposition for me, you’d better spit it out quick.” Adrianna softened her abruptness with a smile. “I’ve got to run.”
“The hospital fundraiser at the Spring Gulch Country Club is Saturday.” Tripp shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “The way I figure, it makes sense for us to go together.”
“You’re asking me to go with you? Why?” Adrianna didn’t bother to curb her bluntness. She and Tripp had been down this road many times since he’d returned to Jackson Hole.
Even though neither could deny the curious energy between them, he’d made it clear on many occasions that he had zero romantic interest in her. The last time the subject had come up she’d lied and said she felt the same way about him.
“I have to be there. You have to be there.” His tone turned persuasive. “We might as well go together.”
What he said made sense as far as it went. His was a command performance. As a member of the medical staff, her attendance at the annual fundraising dinner and dance was highly encouraged.
But there were any number of women in Jackson Hole who’d be happy to be his date.
“Why me?” she asked, puzzled. “Why not ask someone else? Someone who appeals to you?”
Merely saying the words brought a pang of regret. They could be so good together … if he’d just give her a chance.
“You’re a beautiful woman.” Tripp spoke quickly as she began edging her way down the hall. “Any man would be proud to have you by his side.”
Adrianna stopped and fisted her hands on her hips. “You didn’t answer my question.”
This time Tripp didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “With you there’d be no expectations. I could network without worrying I’m neglecting you. You could do the same. Don’t we have fun when we’re together?”
Adrianna reluctantly nodded. Yes, they always had fun. Yes, she enjoyed being with him, but that was no longer enough. Last week she’d looked at the calendar and realized she’d turn thirty in a few weeks. She’d hoped that by this point she’d have a husband and a couple of kids.
That wasn’t going to happen if she kept hanging around Tripp Randall. She must tell him no. After all, there were bound to be lots of single men at the event. There was no point in attending the function with Tripp, a man who’d made his feelings very clear. Unless …
“I’ll go.” Adrianna’s heart skipped a beat at the smile he shot her. “On one condition.”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Whatever you want.”
She ignored the tingles shooting up her arm and met his gaze. “You have to promise to introduce me to all your single friends.”
Tripp ran a finger along the starched inside collar of his shirt and wondered why—just once—the hospital couldn’t host a fundraiser where jeans and boots were de rigueur instead of formal attire.
Pick your battles, he told himself, and refocused on the soliloquy—er, conversation—that had been going on for endless minutes. When the portly gray-haired rancher—who happened to also be one of the trustees on the hospital board—paused after finishing a rather lengthy review of his Hereford breeding program, Tripp stuck out his hand. “Stop by my office anytime, Paul. Let me know how that new bull works out.”
Even though Tripp had been away from horses and cattle for many years, the fact that he’d grown up working on his father’s land gave him an automatic “in” with many in the community, especially those involved in ranching.
But when Tripp had decided to return, it was his MBA in Healthcare Leadership at Yale and almost ten years of experience in health-care policy and economics that had made him a viable candidate for the CEO position.
“Mark my words, that bull will—”
“I think Tripp knows exactly what the bull will do. Let the boy get back to his date.” Paul’s wife pointed to some friends across the room and insisted her husband come with her to say hello.
“Nice to see you again, Marie,” Tripp called out as she took her husband’s arm in a steely grasp and they disappeared into the crowd.
Tripp snagged a glass of wine from a passing waiter and took a sip, surveying the large room. The Spring Gulch Country Club was where most hospital events were held and this year’s fundraiser for pediatric monitoring equipment was no exception.
Tables with silent-auction items filled the perimeter of a large room just off the country club’s foyer. A huge rustic stone fireplace acted as the focal point for the room. Chandeliers made out of antlers hung from the angled ceiling. Even though the beautiful hardwood floors and the tables topped with linen screamed elegance, the chandeliers added a distinctly casual touch.
Huge urns of flowers surrounded the shiny wooden dance floor. Crystal goblets and sterling-silver flatware gleamed in the candlelight. Most of those in attendance, men in tuxedos and women in cocktail dresses, were people Tripp had known his entire life.
When he caught a glimpse of his parents on the dance floor and his mother gave him a tremulous smile, Tripp realized once again how good it was to be back. Even though the man who’d once herded cattle all day was now having difficulty slow dancing with his wife, the fact that his dad was here and on his feet brought a thankful lump to Tripp’s throat.
While Tripp didn’t regret his years on the East Coast, he did regret staying away so long.
His sister had grown from a girl into a woman while he’d been away. He caught sight of her dancing with one of Travis Fisher’s younger brothers, a big smile on her face. Like him, Hailey loved to dance.
Tripp realized he hadn’t been on the dance floor yet this evening. But that could be easily remedied. Even though there were dozens of single women at tonight’s event—including the red-haired maternity nurse, Leila—he would dance first with the woman he’d brought. He glanced around the ballroom until he spotted Adrianna walking with Lexi on the edge of the dance floor.
“You’ve got a good eye.” A man’s voice sounded from Tripp’s left. “She’s the prettiest filly in the stable.”
Tripp turned. The man, standing with a glass of whiskey in one hand, was unfamiliar. Even though he had to be in his early thirties—which would make them close to the same age—he wasn’t from Jackson Hole.
Tall, with an athletic build, the stranger had the confident stance of a person used to giving orders. His dark hair was cut stylishly short and the Hublot Black Caviar on his wrist hadn’t come off the ten-dollar watch rack. But it was his steely gray eyes that defined him.
Tripp extended his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Tripp Randall, the CEO of the Jackson