…Betsy was so focused on the great looking chaps guy she didn’t watch where she was walking. When she ran into the waiter carrying a tray full of drinks and dishes, she was knocked for a bit of a loop.

“I’m sorry,” she began, looking down at the prone man covered in sauces, left-overs and drinks. “Oh, my.”

This one was just as good looking as the chaps guy. Except this guy was snarling.

“Great, just great,” he muttered.

Betsy stooped down to help him. He was crouched like a catcher at a baseball game, his strong thighs outlined by his cotton khaki pants. Betsy was between his knees and had a moment to wonder what it would be like to stay there for a year or two. Along with the pants and those wonderful thighs, he was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt that faithfully outlined well-defined pectoral and abdominal muscles. Yes, sir, this weekend is going to be worth the hefty price tag just for the eye candy alone.

“Let me help you,” she said, reaching to help him pick up the broken drink glasses.

“You really should watch where you’re going,” he growled.

Betsy felt a little tingle in her midsection. This guy wasn’t exactly a public relations dream, but then again, who was going to complain as long as he looked like he did?