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least she’d had the forethought to wear flat sandals. She couldn’t imagine how difficult and slow it would be trying to set out two hundred and some folding chairs on this lush, squishy lawn in heels.
    Pretty comical, too , she mused as she hauled the last two chairs for the first row into place and unfolded them.
    “Livia says you might appreciate some help.”
    She straightened, and a smile lifted her lips as she turned to the owner of the newly familiar voice. Henry strode toward her with two chairs in each hand and that same charming lopsided grin. Desire uncurled inside her, yawning and stretching after a long dormancy, and her pulse jumped as she took in the sight of him. He was again dressed in a white T-shirt, jeans, and work boots, but today he’d added a straw cowboy hat to the casual ensemble. The dim lighting of the Bedspread Inn’s restaurant last night hadn’t given her as clear an impression of him as she’d thought, and as she took in every line of him in the brilliant morning sunlight, she nearly let out a whistle. The man was pure sex appeal without a trace arrogance.
    “Well, howdy stranger,” she drawled. “Fancy meeting you here.”
    His smile turned slightly sheepish. “When Livia mentioned you were out here by yourself, I may have volunteered to help you with these before I head out front to help my brothers with the picnic tables.” He leaned the chairs against his legs and handed one to her. “Something tells me you’ll be much more interesting company. At the very least, you’re certainly more attractive company.”
    “And here I was just chastising myself for not packing something more practical for the pre-wedding activities.” She glanced down at her sunny yellow dress with its flirty hem and neckline and laughed. “To think there was a time I wouldn’t be caught dead in a dress.”
    “Coulda fooled me.”
    She snorted and unfolded another chair. “I know, it’s hard to believe since that’s all you’ve seen me in, but before I bowed down to the pressures of society, I—”
    “Bowed down to the pressures of society? You don’t seem the type to bow down to anyone or anything.”
    “Okay, let’s say then that I bowed down to my poverty. I figured out I got better tips when I wore dresses and skirts instead of slacks. I’m still not fond of them, though.”
    “I take it you were a bit of a tomboy growing up.”
    “Total tomboy.”
    Henry glanced over her with a brow lifted. “Not sure I believe that, either.”
    “I was one of the managers for my high school football team because that was the next best thing to playing. Skye was the other manager, though she spent most of her time taking pictures. That’s what got our feet in the door, so to speak—her photography. She asked me if I wanted to manage with her, and how could I say no?” Lindsay grinned. “It was damn fun.”
    “Mel hates football, so I find this revelation entirely fascinating.”
    “Max doesn’t like it, either. In fact, he hates it. He prefers baseball, which—I’m sorry—bores the hell out of me.”
    “You and me both,” Henry replied. “Are you still a football fan?”
    “Diehard. I’ve never really gotten into the NFL, but I love watching a good high school or college game, and Skye and I go to a couple Husky games together each year. Our folks have season tickets.”
    “Okay, I have to ask because you’ve mentioned her twice. Who is Skye?”
    “Skye Hathaway. She’s my other best friend. I don’t think you’ve met her yet, but she’s renting your folks’ vacation cabin for the next six weeks, and you might have spotted her last night at the Bedspread Inn. She’s the tall brunette.”
    “Ah, no, I’m sorry. I don’t remember her from last night. I must’ve been too distracted by you.”
    Lindsay looked up at him with an amused smile. “Are you always such a flirt?”
    “I try. I hope you don’t find it offensive.”
    “Not at all. I’m actually rather enjoying the