rough, and decided they were, then he’d proved it in her room. His touch had been enough to make a lonely woman weep.
“Three times, huh?” he murmured, still holding her hand.
“At least you kept trying. I gave up after the first one.”
A flicker of something shadowed his eyes after he’d spoken. Surprise? Uneasiness? Did he know he’d told her more than the simple fact that he’d been married and divorced—that now she knew he must have been brokenhearted over the end of his marriage? With the shortage of marriageable men, it was a fact of life that men as handsome as he, as amazingly sexy as he, didn’t remain single long, not unless the scars from their failed relationships ran too deep to heal.
“You learned from your mistake. I didn’t.” Though she would be perfectly content to stand there all night with her hand in his, she caught the looks that said people were starting to notice. Gently she tugged, and after a moment’s hesitation, he let go. “What did you think of Kylie?”
“Truthfully?” He waited for her nod before he went on.
“She’s not my type.”
“Nope, sorry, wrong answer. If Neely thinks you two are right for each other, then you are. She’s never wrong.”
Ignoring her disagreement, he pushed away from the tree. “Come and dance with me.”
A shiver skittered through Hallie, making her face warm, her palms damp and her hands unsteady. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea.” He pulled the bottle of water from her hand and set it on a nearby table, then clasped her hand in his and started for the pavilion.
The music was slow and romantic, and the lights cast flickering shadows back and forth as they swayed in the breeze. For one fearful moment, she wished she could break free and run off into the night. He was too tempting. She was too emotionally fragile. Neely honestly wasn’t ever wrong.
But, as if he sensed her skittishness, he held her hand tightly as he led the way to the middle of the dance floor. There he stopped and pulled her slowly into his arms, closer than was proper, practically as close as they’d been Thursday night.
It was an incredible place to be.
Hallie held back as much as she could. Occasionally she made eye contact with one sister or another, and once Doris Irene and her husband, William, waltzed past, and Hallie was convinced they were all wondering what Brady was doing with her instead of Kylie. When she caught a glimpse of Neely and Reese both watching them, she lowered her gaze to the center of Brady’s chest and wished once again that she was someplace else.
“Relax,” he murmured in her ear. “Surely you’re used to people looking at you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re a beautiful woman, and people tend to look at beautiful women.”
Tilting her head back, Hallie met his gaze. “Okay, I get it. Your job tonight—besides acting as a groomsman—is keeping the newly divorced bridesmaid from ruining everyone’s fun with her mood, right?”
He gazed down at her a long time. His blue eyes revealed nothing, but she had the sense that her words offended or irritated him. When he spoke, though, his tone was no different than before. “Trust me, I would be the last person in the county anyone would choose to entertain, flatter or even talk to anyone else.”
“And why is that?”
While he considered an answer, the music ended and so did the dance. He didn’t release her right away, but held her and looked at her and made her feel incredibly warm and tingly, until finally Del Barnett’s voice quieted the crowd.
“Reese wanted to sneak out of here, but Neely says she’s got three single sisters and she’s not going without throwing her bouquet. So all you unmarried ladies gather around up here, and all you single men be prepared to run.”
It seemed to Hallie that everyone was moving someplace except her and Brady. He was still just looking at her, and darned if she couldn’t pull her gaze away from his.
Abruptly he let her go. “Go on.”
“I’m not single.”
“You’re not married.”
“No, I’m divorced. There’s a difference.”
“Not enough to count. Go on, or your sisters will create a scene.”
Already she was dimly aware of Kylie and Bailey calling her name in unison. She looked at Brady, and he looked away, breaking the spell that held her. Without a word, she walked away and joined the group of women on the grass.
With her back to them, Neely gave the flowers a great toss, and they tumbled, stem over bloom, through the air straight at Hallie. She didn’t raise her hands, didn’t move, didn’t do a thing. When Kylie reached across and grabbed them before they hit the ground, Hallie looked back to where she’d left Brady.
He was gone.
He was a cold-hearted bastard.
Brady stood in the shadow of a clump of trees where no light could reach and watched as Neely and Reese said goodbye to their families. Neely hugged her mother, then her sisters, starting with Bailey and ending with Hallie. She was the only blonde in a family of brunettes, but it was more than her hair color that set her apart. She was lonely. Wounded.
And he wanted to take advantage of that.
Farewells said, Neely and Reese got into the waiting limousine, and the driver slowly pulled away. They were spending the night in Tulsa, then catching an early flight to the Caribbean. There they would be taken by boat to an isolated island where one of Reese’s friends from his pro baseball days was letting them use his beachfront estate. They weren’t planning to come back for three weeks—unless she decided just to stay forever, Neely had threatened.
As the limo disappeared from sight, the wedding guests began heading back to their dancing, visiting and celebrating. Hallie talked to her sisters for a few minutes and got hugs from both of them. Kylie tried to give her the bridal bouquet—probably with a joke about Hallie’s multiple marriages. Her family didn’t appear to have a clue how three divorces had affected her.
After refusing the flowers, Hallie left her sisters and headed toward the church. She passed within ten feet of where he stood, so close he could smell her fragrance on the warm night air. She spoke politely to guests going the other way, then crossed the street to her car, a flashy little blue convertible.
He waited until she’d driven away to move out of the shadows. His truck was parked down the block and around the corner, but he didn’t hurry. There was only one main road from Heartbreak to Buffalo Plains, and he knew where she was staying.
Plus, he needed time to talk himself out of what he wanted.
He was almost at his truck when a voice called, “Hey, Brady.”
He knew before he turned it was Jace Barnett. He was a couple of years older than Brady, Reese’s cousin and a detective with the Kansas City Police Department,
