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the tall gold heels then shimmied her hips, slipping out of the shimmery gold skirt before tugging the oyster silk blouse off over her head and dropping the skirt and blouse on the chair with the other outfits she decided against.
    It was too cold to go out tonight with bare legs. And the sequins and sparkles didn’t seem right for Grey’s. The turn of the century saloon wasn’t fancy and the sparkles made her think of a Las Vegas club.
    She stepped back into her closet and went through her wardrobe one last time. Blazers, camisoles, dresses, skirts, jumpsuit.
    Jumpsuit.
    She drew out the black jumpsuit with the halter top that left her shoulders bare and gave the hanger a little shake. The jumpsuit top featured a deep plunging v-neckline that revealed cleavage. She hadn’t worn the jumpsuit—or anything like this—since moving to Montana. The outfit was definitely sexy with the way the soft, jersey fabric hugged the breasts and hips and butt before falling in a wide straight leg past the ankle. The hem was long so she’d need to wear heels or a pair of dress boots.
    Was she up for a very sleek, sexy look?
    Paige thought of Dillon Sheenan—tall, young, hot—and the way he’d looked at her last night, as if she was something delicious, and then today, at the diner, his deep voice had rumbled through her this morning, low, and husky and all male, and a shiver raced through her.
    Lewis died in May, four years ago this May, and she hadn’t been attracted to any man since. She hadn’t wanted to be interested in anyone. But Dillon intrigued her.
    Yes, he was leaving in just a few days, but he wasn’t gone yet. There was no reason she couldn’t enjoy his attention. Enjoy a little bit of flirting.
    It’s not as if anything would happen between them. They weren’t going to get serious or fall in love.
    She just wanted to flirt. She just wanted to feel pretty...sexy. Surely that was okay? If it was just for one night?
    But as she gave final instructions to her babysitter, Ruby, and then kissed the kids goodnight, Paige wondered if maybe the sexy black jumpsuit was too much. She didn’t want to look as if she was trying too hard.
    Too late now, she told herself, as she settled into the driver’s seat of the car and put on her seatbelt. You’re here. You’re going. Just drive.
    And so she did.

    U pstairs at Grey’s, Dillon was pouring wine, mixing cocktails and uncapping beers. He’d been working steadily for the past hour. The bar was crowded, upstairs and downstairs, with music thumping, and everyone anticipating the start of the auction.
    The bachelors being auctioned were upstairs with him, and they had their own energy, a restless energy that reminded him of a locker room before a charity basketball game. The guys could act like they weren’t worried and didn’t care, but they were guys, men, and competitive. They were going to be stepping on stage, and auctioned off to the highest bidder. Talk about a testosterone rush. No wonder they were amped as they leaned on the balcony, drinking, talking, laughing. They might act like they didn’t have a care in the world, but they were not oblivious that a crowd of young, excited, available women had gathered below. For them.
    Some of the bolder, braver women had come upstairs to drink and flirt.
    Dillon had been keeping an eye out for Paige but hadn’t yet seen her. She could be downstairs with friends, tucked away in a back corner booth. If that were the case, he might not see much of her tonight at all.
    He just hoped she was going to have fun tonight. Most the women he was friendly with in Marietta knew how to let their hair down, but Paige wasn’t a party-girl. She rarely went out at night, unless it was a school function, or a community event where she could contribute in a meaningful way. He didn’t know if it was the fact that she’d been married and widowed, or that she was a mother, but she tended to be reserved even when Marietta had a fun social