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 to Wyatt with giddy smiles on their faces.
She felt something possessive deep in her belly. He wasn’t her date, but he seemed to want to spend more time with her, and now it didn’t look as if that was going to happen.
Brooke’s attention snapped back to her table when Connie, the younger of Heather’s cousins, asked her a question. “Yes, I’m enjoying my stay in Texas so far,” Brooke replied. “And I’m happy I was able to attend Heather’s wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony.”
“Heather’s very happy with Blake. He’s one of the good guys.”
“There are so few of those,” Brooke said, recognizing her tone was too cynical for a wedding.
Luckily, Connie chuckled. “I know what you mean. My mama says if you find a good one, land him and never let him go.”
“She’s a smart woman.”
“She should know, she’s been married three times. She kicked two losers to the curb before marrying my daddy. They’ve been married twenty-eight years now.”
“I like your mother more and more.”
“What about your folks?” Connie asked.
“Oh, my biological parents have issues. I don’t see them much, but I was raised by foster parents and they were awesome. Without them, my life wouldn’t be what it is today.”
“So there’s hope out there. I shouldn’t be so skeptical—especially at my cousin’s wedding—but my boyfriend and I have just broken up and it still stings.”
She caught sight of Wyatt finally taking his seat for dinner. “I get the stinging part, Connie. I’ve been there.” More than once. “It gets better, believe me. Just concentrate on what you enjoy doing most. That’s what I do.”
“Heather said you could’ve put this wedding together without blinking an eye.”
“Heather is too kind, but if I lived here, yes, I would’ve loved to work on this event. There’s so much natural beauty that only the fine points need accenting, and the event planner did a terrific job of not going overboard. I would’ve done the same.”
“I guess that’s the reason the inn is perfect for a wedding. It doesn’t need too many added frills.”
Dinner was served, toasts were given and the reception continued on smoothly. Brooke dug into her meal, enjoying the perfectly seasoned and cooked salmon, quinoa salad and freshly grilled veggies. The meal was light and tasty, and after she was finished and her plate was being cleared, a band began to make noises as they set up on a platform stage.
“Excuse me,” she said to the guests at the table. She rose and walked over to the sweetheart table. This was the first chance she’d gotten to congratulate Heather and her new groom. After the ceremony, they’d been inundated by a swarm of well-meaning guests and Brooke hadn’t entered the fray, deciding to bide her time until she could have a quiet conversation with the newlyweds.
“Heather, congratulations!” Brooke’s friend rose and they immediately embraced.
“Brooke, my goodness, I’m so glad you were able to make it to our wedding. Blake,” she said, turning to him, “I’d like you to meet my friend from Los Angeles. We went to UCLA together, back in the day.”
Blake stood up and took her hand. “Nice meeting you, Brooke, and thanks for