like a god up there. She’d known he was mouth-watering in jeans, but she hadn’t been prepared for the sight of him in a tux.
Because she loved everything Victorian, she had a weakness for a man in a tuxedo, a man who looked as if he’d stepped out of another era. Dressing Travis in a tie and tails and setting him smack-dab in front of her should be against the law.
She’d nearly forgotten Elizabeth’s wailing as she took in the allure of the high, white collar emphasizing his strong neck, the black coat stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and the snug fit of his dove-gray vest. Vests were made for men built like Travis. The delicate pink rosebud in his lapel only emphasized his virility.
In order to get her hormones under control, she’d convinced herself that Travis was vain as a peacock. She visualized him preening in front of the mirror, combing his rich brown hair, gazing into the tawny depths of those bedroom eyes of his and winking at his reflection before he walked out to face his admirers. But a peacock wouldn’t let a baby suck on the shoulder of his coat. A peacock wouldn’t let that same baby pull on his string tie until it came undone. A peacock wouldn’t have come to Gwen and Elizabeth’s rescue in the first place.
The organ music swelled, and with some effort Gwen turned her gaze away from Travis and Elizabeth in order to give Matty the respect and attention she deserved.
Matty came down the aisle, regal in the simple white gown Gwen had insisted she wear, despite this being a second marriage. Gwen had advised her on the flowers, too, and the old-fashioned bouquet of rosebuds, lavender and ivy was exactly right for Matty. Watching her, Gwen felt her throat tighten with happiness, pride, and a trace of longing.
Her friend had never looked more radiant. The expression of pure love on Matty’s face made Gwen yearn for something she hadn’t wished for in a very long time—a love of her own. Both she and Matty had hooked up with scoundrels the first time around, but Matty hadn’t let that stop her from dreaming. Now she had a man who would lay down his life for her.
Gwen swallowed the lump in her throat. Men like Sebastian Daniels were rare, and she knew it. The rancher’s good looks could have served him well as a lady-killer, but instead he was humble, sweet, and adorably dense about the effect he had on women. He was the exact opposite of Travis, who was all too aware that women swooned when he walked by.
But Gwen would not swoon. By God, she would not swoon.
As Matty joined Sebastian at the altar, Gwen sneaked a peek at Travis to see how he was getting along with Elizabeth. He was rumpled and damned sexy-looking from dealing with the baby. He’d removed his boutonniere, probably so Elizabeth wouldn’t stick herself on the pin or try to eat the rosebud. Gwen was impressed with his caution.
Continuing to keep the baby entertained, he played nosey-nosey with her, and she chuckled, a low sound of feminine delight. No doubt about it, Travis had a way with the fairer sex, regardless of age.
On a hunch, Gwen glanced around the small church. The men were watching the ceremony. But as she’d expected, the women, ranging from eight to eighty, were watching Travis. From their expressions of open adoration, Gwen figured Travis would be booked up for the rest of the summer on the basis of this one little scene.
Well, good. The busier he was, the less chance she’d have of running into him. And she wanted to steer clear of Travis Evans. She certainly did. Definitely. The sexual tingle she felt every time she looked at him would go away eventually, especially if she didn’t have to look at him very often. This wedding would be the worst of it. After today, she’d have clear sailing.
But today was a challenge, because she caught herself constantly glancing over at Travis, right along with every other woman in the church. He was strong medicine, especially with that baby.
Maybe he realized the baby was a terrific prop. That thought gave her some comfort. If he was using the baby to get women’s attention, then that made him…calculating. She had no use for a calculating man. Yes, he probably had ulterior motives for holding Elizabeth. What a grandstander, playing with that baby and making every woman in the place drool.
“Gwen,” Matty whispered.
Gwen blinked.
“The ring,” Matty said, her tone amused.
Hot embarrassment flooded through Gwen. She’d lost her place in the proceedings. “Coming right up,” she murmured as she reached in the buggy, found the small box she’d put there and took out the ring. She’d planned to have it ready and waiting when the time came, but she’d become so absorbed with Travis, she’d blown her assignment. Damn that tuxedo-wearing, baby-holding cowboy, anyway.
With new determination she focused on Sebastian and Matty. From her position she could only see the back of Matty’s head, golden curls covered in white tulle. But with her height advantage she could peer right over Matty and watch Sebastian’s face.
And sure enough, he was giving his new bride The Look. Gwen couldn’t define it exactly, but it was a potent combination of love, respect, devotion, lust, appreciation, and a few more emotions she hadn’t identified yet. Sebastian’s expression left no doubt in anyone’s mind that Matty was his one and only.
The lump returned to Gwen’s throat. If she were completely honest with herself, she’d have to say that no one, not even her ex, had ever given her The Look. She wondered if she’d go through life without ever experiencing such a moment.
Pull yourself together she lectured herself. Count your blessings. She lived in a gem of a Victorian house and had been lucky enough to keep it after the divorce by opening a bed and breakfast. It turned out she loved the business, although at times she wondered if caring for her guests only took the place of caring for the family she’d always wanted.
But the house gave her roots. The itinerant life of her archeologist parents wasn’t for her, and she’d hated the constant moving as a child. She tallied each year spent in Huerfano with pride, and she was now up to seven, more years than she’d ever stayed in one place in her life.
Maybe running a B&B didn’t stack up well against her parents’ international reputation, or her brother’s prestigious job running a museum in Boston. Maybe they sometimes reminded her that she was twenty-nine and hadn’t done anything with her life. But she wasn’t giving up her house, no matter what anybody said.
“You may kiss the bride,” Pete McDowell said.
A collective sigh went up from the congregation as Sebastian lifted Matty’s veil and cupped her face in his big rancher’s hands.
The tender moment lasted long enough to bring a mist of tears to Gwen’s eyes. Then Elizabeth began chortling and wiggling in Travis’s arms.
Scene-stealer, Gwen thought, and she wasn’t sure whether she meant Elizabeth or Travis. She wondered what would happen with that little baby. Her mother, Jessica Franklin, seemed to be on the run from something or someone and wanted her daughter out of danger. Jessica had been gone for six weeks, long enough for Matty and Sebastian to bond with Elizabeth.
Personally, Gwen figured Travis was the baby’s father, not Sebastian. But in the event Jessica never returned, Sebastian and Matty would provide a better home for the little girl than a playboy like Travis. Even Travis agreed on that point. Still, he seemed quite possessive of the baby and argued every time Sebastian tried to claim paternity.
But neither of them would find out who was Elizabeth’s father until Jessica chose to tell them. She’d
