into the rich earth and got stuck. Her leg twisted and she tipped sideways, stumbling. “Oh!”
Wyatt reached out and snagged her waist, catching her fall just in time.
“I’ve got you,” he said, confidently. “You okay?”
They were locked together now, and her sensitive skin prickled under his touch. She liked being in his arms, and he seemed reluctant to let her go. A few seconds ticked by before he did.
“How many times are you going to save me today?” she asked breathlessly.
“As many as it takes,” he offered, his blue eyes sparkling. She didn’t know what to make of her miracle cowboy who’d caused her body to heat up with just one playful look. Was he teasing or flirting?
“I’ve got a solution to this problem,” she said, snapping out of her insanity.
She slipped a finger into her shoes to pull at the straps and then wiggled out of them. Straightening, she came up holding her scarlet-red sandals between her fingers and nodded. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
He blinked, grinned at her bare feet and then offered her his hand. They took off at a very brisk walk, making it to the last row of seats just seconds before the bridesmaids began their trek down the aisle.
Brooke sighed in relief and sat back. A few minutes later, everyone in attendance rose to their feet as Heather glided down the aisle in an ivory satin wedding gown, her father walking beside her wearing a proud tearful smile. She held a gorgeous bouquet of new roses and fresh natural greenery that looked as though it had been handpicked just moments ago.
She met her handsome groom under the canopy, love shining in her eyes. Brooke looked on, happy for her friend who’d found love here in Texas. She’d probably start a family soon. Brooke’s future wasn’t quite so rosy. She didn’t begrudge her friends, who’d already found happiness, but she’d always wondered what it was about her that seemed to repel any form of long-lasting relationship with a man. Being Dylan McKay’s younger sister was like a noose around her neck. Just hang me now, she’d say to herself, whenever a man she’d dated starting hinting at meeting her celebrity brother. Of course, then came the teeny favors they’d ask of her.
Would your brother mind reading my script? I know it’s gonna be a blockbuster.
I’m writing an autobiography and your brother would be perfect to star in the movie.
I’m starting a new business venture. I’m sure Dylan would love to get in on the ground floor once you tell him about it.
Riiiight.
Brooke was fed up with men who used her for their own personal gain. Leaving LA when she did had been a necessity. After the debacle with Royce Brisbane, who’d kept his cards close to the vest, and only showed his hand once she’d fallen in love with him, she’d written off relationships for the extended future. She’d been convinced her Wall Street–type boyfriend didn’t give a lick about Dylan, until he handed her three scripts for her to show him. Three, for heaven’s sake!
No man would ever use her that way again.
And then there was Wyatt Brandt, the polite, mannerly cowboy whose presence beside her made her heart pound in her chest. She didn’t want to be Brooke McKay today, not while Wyatt Brandt was stealing glances at her when he didn’t think she was looking. But she’d noticed, and it boosted her deflated ego to have a gorgeous hunk of a man checking her out without an ulterior motive. And if the tingles she was experiencing now weren’t one-sided, this wedding could prove intriguing.
The I do’s were said with a flourish, and Brooke teared up as she witnessed these two people in love speak vows of undying commitment to each other. She felt Wyatt’s eyes on her as a sole tear dripped down her cheek. Did he think her foolish for crying at a wedding? How cliché. Brooke wasn’t a traditional kind of girl, yet weddings always seemed to get to her.
Wyatt gently placed a handkerchief in her hand. As she dabbed at her eyes, she sent him a silent nod of thanks. He gave her a brief smile.
After the vows were spoken, the loving couple garnered a round of applause as they marched down the aisle hand in hand, newly married. Row upon row of guests made their way from their seats to head toward the tented area where the cocktail hour was about to begin.
Brooke and Wyatt, seated in the back row, stood up and waited patiently for their turn. “It was a beautiful ceremony,” she said, handing him his handkerchief.
“It was. But it made you cry.”
She shrugged and slight embarrassment heated her skin. “I’m silly that way. Most people don’t think of me as the sentimental type, but I guess I am when it comes to weddings.”
“Maybe that’s why you enjoy your business so much. You like seeing other people happy.”
She stared into his eyes. Was he for real? How did he know that about her, after only meeting her two hours ago? Was he psychic after all? “You amaze me,” she blurted.
“I do?” He rubbed at the scruffy dark blond hairs on his chin. “Well, now, it’s been a while since I’ve amazed a woman.”
“Don’t stop on my account. It’s been too long since I’ve been amazed by a man.”
The look in his eyes suddenly grew dark and intense. “You flirting with me, Brooke Johnson?”
Yes. It was hard not to.
She glanced away for a second, making note of the two-hundred-plus guests milling about the large white wedding tent, and suddenly all she wanted was to be alone with Wyatt Brandt again.
“Just stating a fact, Wyatt.”
“C’mon,” he said, tamping down a smile and taking her arm gently. “Let’s see if Blake and Heather had the good sense to seat us together.”
She liked the sound of that.
A lot.
Brooke wasn’t seated with Wyatt. She sat between two of Heather’s female cousins she’d met once or twice back in college. Two other male cousins and their wives rounded out the table. Everyone was pleasant. The ladies, dressed in florals and pastels appropriate for a late-afternoon wedding, were doing their best to make small talk. Brooke engaged in conversation with them and sipped white wine while giving the entire lakeside reception a cursory scan, keeping her eyes peeled for signs of Wyatt.
During the cocktail hour, she’d spent time with him, munching on appetizers and enjoying Sweetwater Lake until dinner had been called and they’d had to go their separate ways. She sensed that Wyatt had been just as disappointed as she was to discover that not only weren’t they seated together, but their tables were separated by twenty others.
She spotted Wyatt standing just outside the perimeter of the decorated tent, sipping whiskey from a tumbler as he spoke to the groom. The sight of Wyatt shouldn’t have made her heart race, and yet it was sprinting as if in an Olympic event. The two men shook hands and then Blake took off, most likely in search of his bride. Two women took Blake’s place, sidling up next
