saved me thrice, my lord,” she said with a mock curtsy. “The last time with big Uncle Hal.”
He laughed. “You were handling the situation just fine.”
“You think so?”
“I do. But I also saw the indecision on your face. Where I come from, a man doesn’t lay a hand on a woman ’less he’s invited. When he didn’t back down I figured you didn’t want to make a scene.”
“You’re right about that. I don’t like to draw attention to myself.”
He drew her closer and spoke into her ear softly, “Then you shouldn’t have worn that dress.”
His gaze dipped past the lace on her scooped neckline and touched upon her breasts. From under the material, her nipples tightened. Wyatt could do that to her with one look.
“You don’t like it?” she asked, a little uncertain. “Or was that a compliment?”
Emma, her bestie, business partner and sister-in-law, was always telling her to put some color in her wardrobe, but black was her thing. She wasn’t a floral kind of girl.
“Every guy in this place has his sights set on you. And I’m the one dancing with you.” Appreciation shone in his eyes and she almost forgot all about Royce what’s-his-name. “I like it, all right.”
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.” His hands snaked around her waist, and the space between them lessened to inches. Brooke wasn’t complaining. He smelled like whiskey and something woodsy and natural. She took deep breaths of him, drinking in his scent and enjoying the way his dark blond hair curled at his collar.
“I have a confession,” he said in a quiet rasp. “I’m glad your car ran out of gas today.”
Something broke apart inside her then, and her cynicism crumbled away. At least for the present, she wasn’t going to question her actions. Or his. This perfect guy seemed to come straight out of her dreams, and she wasn’t going to play it safe tonight. Not with Wyatt. She brought her fingers to the curls at the back of his neck and smiled, titling her chin up. Her eyes had to be gleaming now. “I’m glad, too,” she said.
Wyatt’s gaze heated. Thrills ran up and down her spine as she waited for him to do something bold, something daring.
He brought his head closer, never losing eye contact with her. “Are you inviting me?” he said, but he didn’t wait for her answer. The connection they had was real and happening fast. He had to feel it, too.
His lips brushed hers softly, once, twice. Shock waves traveled the length of her body. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed this, how much she’d missed the simple reality of connecting with a man on an elemental level. The pure masculine taste of him washed completely through her, and a soft purr escaped her lips. She kissed him back and things got hot and heavy really fast. He cupped the back of her head, weaving fingers through her long, wild hair. “Oh, man,” he murmured, pressing his lips more forcefully to hers, making exquisite demands on her. Demands she was eager to answer.
Was it lust? She’d been attracted to Wyatt from the second she’d laid her eyes on him. And now he was kissing her as if he’d been starving, and let’s face it, she hadn’t even nibbled in a very long time. Now she was ravenous.
Wyatt broke off the kiss before things got completely out of control on the dance floor and sighed loud enough for her to hear his frustration. Her ego was lifted to new heights as he tugged her tightly into his embrace, pressing their bodies closer. The slow ballad continued, but she barely heard the music. All she knew, all she felt, was her connection to Wyatt. They were so close, so incredibly in tune with each other.
Tension sizzled between them in a crazy way that upset her newly regained balance. She wasn’t ready for this, for him. But when the dance ended and he stared into her eyes, she was lost.
“Let’s get some air, darlin’.”
She gave him a tiny nod, and he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the edge of the draped tent that led to the lake.
Soft blades of grass tickled her ankles as Wyatt wove a path to the bank of Sweetwater Lake. Moonlight reflected off the rippling waters now, the sun having long ago bid farewell to the day. The air was still damp with humidity, but since sunset the temperature had cooled considerably. They stood facing the lake.
“Better,” he said, taking gulps of air into his lungs. “It got a little heavy in there.”
He dropped her hand, seeming to compose himself.
“It did.”
“You surprised me, is all,” he said, looking away from the lake to connect with her again. “I mean, I didn’t expect...”
“I know. I’m different.” He didn’t have to say it. He didn’t expect to be attracted to her. “I’m no Texas girl. I dress weird most of the time. Believe it or not, I toned it down for the wedding.” No leather wrist bracelets, giant hoop earrings or multiple long chains around her neck for this shindig. As a matter of fact, she’d left most of that stuff back home in LA. Maybe she was entering a new phase in her life.
“I like your style, Brooke. There’s nothing weird about you.”
“Thanks for that.”
“I mean it. When I saw you with Uncle Hal on the dance floor, I had an irrational urge to knock his block off.”
“Is that equivalent to punching his lights out?”
“It is,” he stated plainly.
“Why, Wyatt, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She stood toe-to-toe with him, grinning. It felt good to break the tension and get back to easy conversation with him.
He laughed loud and deep and she joined in, too.
“I like you, Brooke,” he said easily.
“Feeling’s mutual,” Brooke said. “Isn’t that how they say it out here?”
“Stop poking fun at Texans.” Wyatt’s eyes twinkled. “We’re a proud lot.”
“I’ve heard as much.”
A wicked Texas breeze blew strands of hair into her face.
With his finger, Wyatt innocently pushed a barrel curl resting on her cheek behind her ear. From the second his finger glided across her skin, the ridiculous yearning reared up again, putting a halt to their pleasant banter. Her laughter died in her throat, and as she focused on the man touching her tenderly, his smile changed into something less animated and playful. He gazed at her with dire want, his eyes dipping down to her pursed and needy mouth.
“Brooke,” he rasped. There was a distinct hitch in his voice.
“It’s okay, Wyatt,” she said. Whatever he wanted, she was ready for.
A groan rose from his throat and he began shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. Brooke was in the same boat. They were sailing along at breakneck
