A Bravo Christmas Wedding. Christine Rimmer
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She pulled on her coat, stuck her camera in her tote and headed for the exit, pausing to thank the flight steward and the pilots as she left.
When she started down the airstairs, Walker straightened from the SUV and strode toward her. “My favorite princess. Lookin’ good.” Those blue eyes with the manly crinkles at the corners swept over her red peacoat, long sweater and thick winter leggings tucked into a nice, warm pair of Sorel boots. He reached for a hug.
“Hey.” She went into his arms for maybe half a second before ducking free.
His eyes narrowed briefly at her sullen greeting, but then he only asked, “Good trip?”
“It was fine,” she said without even trying to sound as though she meant it. He gave her another swift, questioning glance. She ignored it. “There will be customs,” she said. “But it should be quick.”
A half an hour later, her luggage had been checked and loaded into the back of the SUV. They set out for the small town of Justice Creek, where her Bravo cousins lived.
As they sped down the interstate, he tried to get her talking. He teased her about the number of suitcases she’d brought and then about how he planned to put her to work cooking and cleaning out at his ranch, the Bar-N. She returned brief responses and stared out her side window at the high, flat land rolling off toward the distant gray humps of the mountains.
Eventually he gave up, turned on the radio and hummed along in his slightly off-key baritone to country-western Christmas music.
* * *
Walker waited.
Her sulky act wouldn’t last. Rory came at life full out, and nothing got her down for long.
He let her sit there and stew until they turned off the main highway onto the state road, heading northwest. When she still refused to snap out of it, he switched off the radio. “Come on. It’s not all that bad.”
She made a low, unhappy sound and slid him a grumpy glance. “Did you at least take the money she offered you?”
“I turned the money down.”
A gasp of outrage. “Now, that’s just wrong.”
“She sent a big check anyway.”
“Don’t you dare send it back.” Rory leveled a stern glance on him. “It’s bad enough that you have to babysit me. No way are you doing it for free.”
“I like babysitting you.”
A scoffing noise escaped her. “The way you say that? Doesn’t lift my spirits in the least. You know I hate it when you treat me like a baby.”
“Whoa. Was I the one who called it babysitting?”
She let out a grouchy little grunting sound and stared straight ahead.
He kept after her. “What I mean is I like hanging with you.” When she only gave him more of the silent treatment, he added, “And it doesn’t seem right to take money just for keeping an eye on you.”
“But I don’t need anyone keeping an eye on me. And what if some camper gets lost in the mountains?” He headed up the Justice Creek search-and-rescue team. “Or if there’s a forest fire?” He also volunteered with the fire department during emergencies. “What are you going to do then?”
He shrugged. “Camping’s more of a summer activity. And forest fires are down in the winter, too. But if something happens, we’ll work it out.”
Next, she tried threats. “I mean it, Walker. You put that check she sent you in the bank or I may never speak to you again.”
Two could play that game. “Keep acting like this and I won’t care if you never speak to me again—and I have to ask. Is it my fault your mother insists that you have security?”
“No, and I didn’t say it was.”
“So why are you blaming me?”
“Walker, I’m not blaming you.”
“Then cut this crap the hell out.”
“Great.” She threw up both hands. “Now you’re acting like you think you’re my big brother. The last thing I need is one of those. I already have four, thank you very much.”
Enough. “Okay, Rory. I’ve about had it. Knock it off.”
She pinched up her full mouth. “See? What did I tell you? ‘Knock it off.’” She faked a deep voice. “Just like a know-it-all, fatheaded, domineering big brother.”
By then, she was really starting to get on his nerves. “Fine. I give up. Sulk all the way to the Bar-N if that’s your pleasure.”
They subsided into mutually pissed-off silence. He didn’t even bother to turn on the radio and pretend that her bad attitude didn’t bug the hell out of him.
It took ten minutes of both of them staring out the windshield, acting as if the other wasn’t there, before she couldn’t take it anymore. She swiped off her red wool beanie and scraped her fingers back through her long brown hair. “I mean, the whole point of my coming alone was that I get to look out for myself. I’m an adult, but my mother won’t stop thinking of me as the baby of the family. It’s not right.” She had the beanie in her lap and she was alternately twisting and smoothing it. “I really thought I was getting through to her, you know? She finally admitted that maybe, just possibly, my having a bodyguard everywhere I go outside Montedoro was overkill. Think about it. How many of us need that kind of security? It has to stop somewhere. I have eight siblings ahead of me in line for the throne, not to mention all my nieces and nephews, who are also ahead of me. I want to go where I need to go for my work.” Rory was a talented photographer. “A normal life—it’s all I’m asking for. I just don’t need all that protecting. Not only is it unnecessary and a waste of money, it seriously cramps my style.”
He suggested, “Look at it this way. It’s a step. You are here without a bodyguard.”
More scoffing sounds. “Because you’re my bodyguard.”
“We’ll be spending a lot of time together, anyway. Isn’t that what the best man and the maid of honor usually do?”
She blew out a hard breath and slumped her shoulders. “You’re not going to cheer me up, Walker. Stop trying.”
“Have it your way.”
She said nothing. For about five minutes.
Then she shook her head. “I don’t know...”
So far, she’d jumped his ass every time he tried to cheer her up, so he considered not trying again. But then, why prolong a stupid fight any longer than necessary? “Okay. I’ll bite. You don’t know what?”
“About Ryan and Clara getting married.