They’d keep things friendly. And in a few days, Dee would be on her way. She’d go back to Hollywood where she belonged, and he’d go back to his life here in Royal. No harm, no foul.

So why was his pulse racing like a hormone-filled adolescent on his first date?

Tripp shut his eyes and released all the disquieting thoughts that had taken up residence in his head on the drive over. Then he knocked on Dee’s hotel door.

Footsteps trailed to the door and there was a quiet pause as she likely checked the peephole. The door swung open.

“And what is this? The I’m sorry for being a pushy nuisance bouquet?”

Tripp shifted the flowers, which had inadvertently hidden his face. He studied her as she stood in the doorway with one hand propped on her generous hip.

Damn.

He knew Dionna was a beautiful woman. But he hadn’t realized she was blessed with the kind of curves that sent his pulse into overdrive and made him a little weak at the knees. His mouth fell open, but his brain had temporarily forgotten how to make words.

“Tripp?” Dee’s eyes widened with recognition. She pressed a hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you. When I looked through the peephole, all I saw was flowers. I thought it was another surprise delivery from Ariana to make up for not being here.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Tripp shifted the vase. “Mind if I put these down?”

Dee stepped aside and gestured for Tripp to enter. “Those aren’t for me, are they?” She studied the bouquet.

“You don’t like them?” Tripp set the heavy crystal vase on the coffee table in the luxury hotel suite and rearranged a few of the stems that had gotten smushed on the journey.

“No. I mean, yes, I love the flowers. It’s a beautiful arrangement. But this isn’t a date, and no one has ever brought me flowers for a business dinner before.”

Dee raised her hands to her face, as if to push her ever-present glasses up the bridge of her nose. Only, she wasn’t wearing them. And for the first time, he really noticed how lovely her dark brown eyes were, highlighted by the drama of smoky, charcoal gray eye shadow and cat-eye eyeliner. Dee tugged her hair over one shoulder instead.

“Your hair...” Tripp said, before he could stop himself from thinking aloud, something his sister often admonished him about.

Just because you’re thinking it, Tripp, doesn’t mean you have to say it.

“What about it?” Dee ran her fingers through her sable-brown shoulder-length hair worn in loose twists rather than her signature sleek bun. “I had it up earlier. Maybe I should...”

“I like it. A lot,” Tripp said. “I just haven’t ever seen you without your glasses or with your hair down. You look really nice. Not that you don’t normally,” he added quickly.

Why am I blathering like an idiot?

“Thank you.” Dee smoothed her palms down the fabric of the black minidress that molded to her curvy figure and showed off her thick brown thighs. Heat practically radiated off her cheeks as she flashed a lopsided smile. “But you didn’t answer the question. Did you bring these for me?”