and gentlemen,” the pastor droned, “I give you Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell Sheridan.”
All in attendance stood and applauded, including Lamont—though his heart wasn’t in it. Because this was it. The end. Tonight, he’d go home to that big house, empty save the constant companionship of his ever-faithful mutt, Obnoxious.
An usher led Lily’s mother-in-law to the back of the church. Georgia looked gorgeous, more content than he’d ever seen her. And why wouldn’t she be, when Max had come home to Amarillo—this time to stay—and brought with him his formerly motherless little boy, Nate, and given her a daughter named Lily to love. Lamont supposed Georgia’s new husband deserved some of the credit, and it made him wonder—if his new son-in-law’s rough-around-the-edges mom could find a second chance at love, was there hope for him, too?
He took his place in the receiving line as the pastor’s wife locked him in a grandmotherly hug. “Beautiful ceremony.”
Behind her, his housekeeper, Peggy, said, “Beautiful bride!”
“Thanks,” he told them. “Good to see you.”
But not nearly as good as it was to see the pretty widow who owned the ranch next to his.
“Hey, good-lookin’,” Nadine said. “I declare, you’re more gorgeous than the groom.” She looked down the receiving line where Max stood smiling at Lily. “And that’s saying something!”
“You clean up pretty good, yourself.” An under-statement, he thought, admiring the knee-length azure sheath that accented her womanly curves and brought out the pale, glittering blue of her long-lashed eyes.
“This old thing?” Clucking her tongue, she fluffed the ends of her shoulder-length blond hair. “Why, I’ve had it for—” laughing, she stood on tiptoe to adjust the knot of his bow tie “—for exactly one day. Big sale down at Gizmo’s,” she added conspiratorially.
Nadine was nothing if not honest. Just one more reason to like her. Plus, she was one of the few people in his life who, by her very presence, could lift his spirits.
When she finished with the tie, she straightened the shiny black button-toppers that had come with his tuxedo, then tidied the pocket square in his breast pocket. It made him feel cared for and pampered, the way he had when Rose was still—
“See you at the reception hall,” Nadine said. “Save a square dance for me, y’hear?” And with a flirty little wave, she disappeared into the crowd to wait her turn, blowing bubbles at the departing bride and groom.
His arms felt empty when she stepped away. Empty, and despite the dry Texas heat, a little bit cold.
Lily and Max, still in full wedding garb, joined the line of celebrants who made wings of their arms and beaks of their hands as the band played “The Chicken Polka.”
“I need a break,” Nadine said, plopping onto the chair beside Lamont. And waving a dinner napkin near her face, she laughed. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse and I’m sweating like a pig.” She stopped waving to add, “And don’t you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. What’s up your sleeve?”
“Not much, O Mistress of Clichés,” he teased.
She gazed toward the dance floor. “They make a good-looking couple.”
Lamont shrugged. “They’d look a whole better if they were somebody else’s kids, two-stepping at somebody else’s wedding.”
She responded with a playful shove to his shoulder. “Take heart, Dad. I know what you’re going through, ’cause I’ve been there, too. ‘No one is good enough for my kid,’” she said, drawing quotation marks in the air.
She had it all wrong. Lamont liked his newest son-in-law just as much as he liked Reid, his oldest daughter’s husband. “He’s okay. I guess.” His twins, Ivy and Violet, were living on their own, but Lamont felt fairly certain that when they chose life mates, he’d feel the same way about those young men, too.
“Yeah, ‘okay,’ but still not quite who you’d have chosen for her, right?”
She’d cocked her head to say it, and looked at him from the corner of her eye. He hadn’t slept much last night, or the night before, for that matter. Maybe exhaustion explained why it seemed that Nadine was flirting with him.
The dance floor emptied as laughing, red-faced dancers returned to their seats. As the band eased into a waltz, Lamont frowned. He’d never much cottoned to ballads, especially if the lyrics spoke of lonely, broken hearts. Then Nadine started singing, and suddenly, he didn’t mind as much. She had a soft, sultry voice that simultaneously soothed him and quickened his heartbeat. He wanted to hear more, up close and personal. So he bowed slightly and held out one hand. “May I have this dance?”
She followed his every step as though they’d been dancing together for years, when, in truth, he didn’t think they’d shaken hands or shared a hello hug, let alone—
“Do you realize this is a first?”
He grinned. “Great minds think alike?”
“Beats the alternative…”
“Which is?”
“To quote my grandpa, ‘Fools seldom differ.’”
And when she laughed, the invigorating sound showered over him like warm spring rain.
“So how’s it feel…?”
He almost admitted that holding her this close felt so good that he wanted to kick himself for not asking her to dance before. Thankfully, he didn’t get the chance, because she said, “…knowing you’re finally on your own.”
Lamont harrumphed. He’d just as soon forget that he’d gone a little nutty after Rose’s death, escorting pretty young things around town two or three nights a week. A few years of that wore his patience thin, and since not a one of them came close to filling Rose’s shoes, anyway, he hung up his eligible bachelor hat for good. “Please. Don’t remind me.”
Nadine patted his shoulder. “Now, now. Look on the bright side.”
What bright side? He’d didn’t like the dating scene and he didn’t like the prospect of living alone. Especially not if it meant rattling around that big house, all—
“Think about it…total control of the TV remote, football 24/7, network news during supper…” She laughed again. “You’ll probably turn into a couch potato or a hermit or something, and we’ll probably never see you again!”
Oh, you’ll see me, he thought. You can count on it. Resting her head on his shoulder, Nadine sighed. “I’m only teasing. I remember how absolutely awful it was, going home alone that night when Adam married Julie. It took me weeks and weeks to get used to how quiet and empty the house felt.”
“Hey, now there’s a way to lift a guy’s spirits,” he said, chuckling.
One hand over her mouth, she cringed. “Oh, wow. Sorry. Guess I got my empathy and sympathy pills mixed up this morning.”
The song ended and, for the second time that day, he regretted
