paying for the wedding. My father did try to argue because Eric’s parents are gone. Yada, yada. You know how all that male posturing goes.”
“What are you looking at me like that for?”
She grinned.
“Hey, I’m wounded.”
“Kidding,” she quipped. “You’re the least macho guy I know.”
“Ah, man. Now I’m irreparably wounded.”
“Okay, I’ll try this again. You’re macho without the macho mind-set. Better?”
“Hey, hey, break it up. People are talking.” Eric joined them and clapped Tony on the arm. “Good to see you.”
“I wouldn’t miss this. Our little Dallas getting married. Hope you plan on keeping her barefoot and pregnant.”
She socked him in the arm.
Eric chuckled. “Now, now, children.”
Tony liked him. Great guy for Dallas, even if he was a suit who worked off Madison Avenue.
A waiter came in, and said something to Dallas’s father. He nodded and then called for everyone’s attention, giving them a two-minute warning before dinner would be served.
The rest of the bridal party was already there, nibbling on shrimp and imported cheeses, and guzzling drinks, all the really premium stuff. Even Dallas’s snobby brother had made it on time, and he was one of the head honchos at the law firm where Dakota worked.
Tony drained his beer, the trusty domestic kind, and sat at the far end of the long, elegantly set table. The seat gave him an excellent view of the door, not that he was that anxious to see Dakota again. Okay, maybe he was. The woman was totally beautiful. Light brown hair, gray-blue eyes, incredible legs. But his strategy had more to do with keeping his distance from the senior Sheas.
Dallas’s parents had been cordial enough, but that didn’t mean he’d like to make small talk with them. They were different, too serious in his opinion; both scholars, he a judge, she a professor. Tony was strictly blue-collar. A college dropout. No regrets. He liked his no-headache job, liked living life on his own terms, not getting calls in the middle of the night like his pop did.
Nancy sat next to him. She was the only other person here he knew besides Dallas because they’d all worked on the same construction crew at one time.
At first he thought Nancy had bumped his knee by mistake when she scooted her chair closer to the table, but then she did it again. He looked over at her.
“Why do we have so many forks?” she murmured, her lips barely moving.
“Beats me. But I know you’re supposed to work from the outside in.”
“Okay.” She dubiously glanced around at everyone else and, mimicking them, placed her white linen napkin on her lap.
“The hell with it, I’m eating with my fingers.”
Her stricken gaze flew to him.
“That was a joke.”
She gave him a reproachful look, and then smiled at the white-gloved waiter as he set her Caesar salad in front of her.
Tony sighed. That was the trouble with these high-class places. You couldn’t relax. Have fun. Of course he’d keep his opinion to himself. He’d never hurt Dallas. This wasn’t just her wedding—these were her people.
His attention strayed to the door. Still no Dakota. No one seemed concerned. Not even Mr. and Mrs. Shea. In fact, from what Dallas had told him, they probably approved that she put work ahead of everything else.
Man, he didn’t understand these people. His parents would’ve given him or any of his three siblings a lecture right then and there. In front of everyone. The deal had always been, if the kids were willing to screw up in public, then they got reprimanded likewise. Even though none of them were kids anymore.
While being on time for a party in the San Angelo family was never a problem. When his older sister had gotten married the party had started two days before the wedding and didn’t end until three the morning after the reception.
The salad plates were cleared and the rack of lamb was just being served when Dakota showed up. Still dressed in her navy-blue power suit, she had her hair pulled back in an awful, matronly style. Nancy and the other bridesmaid were all gussied up, Dallas more causally elegant in a simple cream-colored silk dress.
Dakota looked directly at him, and he smiled. Her gaze fluttered away and his smile broadened.
“I’ve never had lamb before,” Nancy whispered. “Have you?”
“Yeah.” He briefly glanced over to see her skeptically staring at her plate, and then his attention went right back to Dakota.
She took the vacant seat Dallas had saved next to her, and damned if Dakota didn’t slide him another look.
“Tony?”
“What?”
Nancy made a face. “Are you listening to me?”
“What did you say?”
“I want to know what this green stuff is. It looks like jelly.”
“It is. Mint jelly. It goes with the lamb.”
“Right.” Nancy snorted. “Come on. If you don’t know just—what are you looking at?” Until Nancy followed his gaze, he hadn’t realized he’d been staring. “Oh, Dakota’s here.” She waved excitedly, and Dakota waved back.
Only at Nancy. Not at him. Good sign.
He smiled, thinking about the first day they’d met. The only day they’d met. She’d appeared at the job site to see Dallas. It was love at first sight for him. Okay, more like lust. Dallas had noticed his interest. Told him to forget it. But the eye contact he’d made with Dakota told him otherwise. If it had lasted one second less, it would have been a different story. And when she got to the end of the block and turned around, he knew.
“How do you know her?” he asked Nancy.
“Well, duh. She’s the one who helped us with all our legal stuff to scare Capshaw into taking our harassment complaints seriously. For free, too.”
Tony’s gaze returned to Dakota. A woman full of surprises. He thought she’d be too busy to help a group of women fight discrimination against the state’s second largest construction company.
“You haven’t met her.” Nancy leaned closer, eyeballing him with far too much interest. “Have you?”
“Why?”
“Have you?” She darted a look at Dakota, probably wondering why she hadn’t acknowledged Tony. Nancy seemed to arrive at her own conclusion, judging by the smirk on her face as she settled back in her chair. “She shot you down.”
“What?”
