Prologue
About the Publisher
“Benji? Oh, my God, is that you?”
Benjamin Bennett shifted his attention to the source of the husky female voice he knew as well as his own.
“Sloane.” He hadn’t seen Sloane Sutton in nearly a decade yet he recognized her instantly. The passing years had been good to her; she was even more beautiful than he remembered. “I wasn’t sure you were coming to the wedding.”
Sloane wrapped him in a hug that seared his skin and sent electricity skittering down his spine. He released her reluctantly.
“I just decided a couple of days ago.” Sloane smoothed down the skirt of her brilliant blue, floor-length gown. It hugged her heart-stopping curves, showing off the glowing brown skin of one toned shoulder. “I didn’t even tell Delia I was coming.”
That explained why his sister hadn’t mentioned it.
“Well, it’s good to see you, Sloane. You look...incredible,” he stammered, his face and neck warm. The passage of time hadn’t lessened Sloane’s effect on him. He was as tongue-tied in her presence now as he’d been at fifteen.
His crush on her began the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. He was five years old and Sloane was ten.
“Thanks.” Sloane beamed. “You look pretty darned handsome yourself.”
“Blake must’ve been glad to see you.” Benji nodded toward the groom. He loosened the collar of his shirt, which suddenly seemed too tight.
“It’s good to see Blake so happy.” Sloane’s gaze softened, but sadness suddenly crept into her voice and clouded her brown eyes. “Savannah seems really sweet, and their baby, Davis, is adorable.”
“He’s a cute kid,” Benji acknowledged, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight to his other foot. “And Savannah is really sweet. You’ll like her.”
Getting to the altar hadn’t been easy for his cousin and Savannah. When they’d first met, Savannah was on a mission to infiltrate the company founded by Blake’s grandfather to prove that half of King’s Finest Distillery belonged to her family. But somehow, they’d managed to move past the pain and distrust to find love and happiness.
Sloane caught the eye of someone on the other side of the room and nodded. She turned back to him. “I’d better go, but we’ll catch up later.”
“Count on it.” Benji watched as she walked away.
Sloane Sutton.
Growing up, he’d adored Sloane. She and his sister, Delia, had been thick as thieves. He’d spent countless nights as a boy kept awake by their girlish giggles, heard through the thin wall between his and Delia’s bedrooms. Sloane had been everything to him, but she’d seen him as an honorary little brother.
She’d been a beautiful girl, but she’d grown into a stunning woman. When they were young, she’d had the toned body of a farm girl who was no stranger to physical labor; her lean, athletic body had given way to softer, fuller curves. The hair she’d worn in a thick, black braid down her back was now cut short on the sides with thick, glossy curls piled atop her head.
A small, barely there diamond stud adorned her left nostril. And when she’d turned to walk away, he’d noticed shooting stars tattooed on the back of her neck. The tattoo disappeared beneath the fabric, which dipped low between her shoulder blades.
“Better close your mouth and stop drooling or everyone will know you’ve still got a thing for Sloane Sutton,” Parker Abbott, his best friend and first cousin, said matter-of-factly.
“I didn’t have a thing for Sloane Sutton.” Benji straightened his navy tuxedo jacket, hoping he wouldn’t be struck by lightning for the whopper of a lie he’d just told.
Of course he’d had a thing for Sloane.
He’d been a red-blooded teenage boy and she was...well, she was Sloane Sutton. Confident, beautiful, funny, slightly irreverent.
She hadn’t thought him strange because he preferred Star Trek marathons and sci-fi books to spending time playing outside. Nor had
