September
Over the decades many wedding receptions had been held at the Texas Cattleman’s Club, and there had been a fair amount of scandals, for sure. Alexis Slade remembered talk of a groom being caught in a compromising position with the matron of honor, and a father of the groom passing out under a lavishly decorated bridal party table after streaking across the dance floor, wearing nothing more than a very lacy pink thong. There had been tearful brides, drunk brides, regretful brides and emotional brides, but Shelby Arthur was the first bride who hadn’t made it to the altar.
The Goodman-Arthur wedding, or nonwedding, would undoubtedly be talked about for weeks on end. Alex looked across the still-crowded reception room and saw Reginald Goodman, father of the groom, with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, looking pale but composed. Her eyes tracked left and there was the mother of the bride, a handkerchief clutched in her fist. Alex snorted at her wobbling lower lip, her crocodile tears. Daphne Goodman was a designer-dress-wearing barracuda who’d made no secret of the fact that she despised her son’s fiancée and was totally against their marriage. Having been an object of Jared’s affections in high school, Alex believed Shelby came to her senses just in time.
Marrying the spineless groom meant marrying his awful family—Brooke Goodman, Jared’s sweet-natured sister, was the exception—and really, no woman deserved that. Marriage was tough enough without any added pressure from the in-laws. Jared and Shelby’s marriage would’ve been a marriage of three, with Daphne Goodman calling the shots.
Alex turned when the door next to her right elbow opened and Rose Clayton walked into the reception area via the side entrance. Cool gray assessing eyes met hers and Alex reminded herself that she wasn’t eighteen anymore, so the unofficial queen of the Texas Cattleman’s Club should no longer intimidate her.
But she did.
Over that long summer ten years ago, Rose waged a war to separate her and Daniel, Rose’s beloved grandson and heir. Gus, her own grandfather, had done the same. Because God and every Texan knew, family loyalty and a decades-old feud between Gus Slade and Rose Clayton trumped first love. At the time, she and Daniel had been the Romeo and Juliet of Royal, minus the death by poisoning.
Losing Daniel had felt like another death—she’d missed and mourned him that much. Alex remembered her tears, the desperation and loss she’d endured when Daniel refused to leave Royal with her so she could attend school out of state.
Daniel had said he belonged at The Silver C, but she disagreed, proclaiming they belonged together. They’d yelled; she’d cried. Daniel’s stubbornness and intransigence, his unwillingness to choose her—them—ultimately killed their relationship.
Yes, they’d been young but, in his own unique way, he’d abandoned her. Unlike her parents, her childhood friend Gemma and, just last year, her beloved grandmother Sarah, Daniel had left her life through choice and not death.
And that somehow hurt more.
Rose approached her and a part of her still wanted to curl up in a ball when faced with Daniel’s imperial grandmother. Annoyed with herself, Alex straightened her spine and managed a jerky nod. “Miss Rose.”
“Alexis Slade.”
Alex rolled her eyes when Rose turned her back on her and glided away, five foot something of sheer haughtiness and holier-than-thou poise. If not for their volatile history, she might even admire the woman for her steely self-assurance, her ability to carve out her rightful place in a world filled with take-charge alpha men.
But Rose was a Clayton and, as such, a sworn Slade enemy. Alex and her brother knew the basics of the Slade-Clayton feud: a half century ago, Gus, her grandfather, left Royal to make his fortune on the rodeo circuit, believing that Rose Clayton would wait for his return. He saved enough to buy a small spread next to the Clayton ranch and went to propose to Rose, excited to start his life with the woman he desperately loved. But Rose had married Ed the year before.
In doing so, Rose fired the first shot and war was declared.
Gus’s marrying Rose’s best friend—Alex’s beloved grandmother Sarah—just escalated the conflict. And her grandfather buying up more portions of the once-mighty Clayton ranch was a nuclear strike. Families took their feuds seriously in Texas, and although sides were most certainly chosen, the Texas Cattleman’s Club remained the demilitarized zone.
The Slades and Claytons, both old and young, were all members, and here within these walls, they had to play nice. Or when that wasn’t feasible, they opted to ignore each other as much as possible. Just like Gus was ignoring Rose, and Alexis was ignoring Daniel, which was, annoyingly, very damn hard to do.
What woman with a pulse could? Surrendering to temptation, Alex looked toward the bar...and at the devastatingly handsome man who she’d once considered to be the love of her life. She drank in every inch of him. The black curls he hated—but she loved—and those mysterious dark brown eyes he’d inherited—everyone presumed—from his father, because his mother was light skinned with blue eyes. Boring brown, Daniel had once called them, but Alex vehemently disagreed. They could be as rich as expensive coffee, as deep as the night. However, they could also turn as hard as ship-destroying rocks on a jagged, inhospitable coastline.
So much had changed over the years, Alex mused with a wistful sigh. Her once-gangly boyfriend was now taller, broader, every inch a man. He was still lean but with hard muscles and a harder streak. Strong stubble covered his jaw and he looked as good in a tuxedo as he did in worn jeans, but neither was his sexiest look.
A naked Daniel Clayton, as she’d discovered when she was younger, could easily be classified as one of the wonders of the world.
In the past decade, her ex had done quite well for himself. He’d acquired degrees in both agriculture and business, and all the hard work he put into The Silver C had, judging by his designer tuxedo and the German sports car he occasionally drove, paid off. He was smart, wealthy and good-looking, and that trifecta made him one of the most sought-after bachelors in the area. Hell, possibly even the state. Although he hadn’t brought a date to this wedding, Daniel Clayton was never, so she’d heard, short of a female companion.
In bed or out of it.
A hand on her arm pulled her eyes off her former lover and she smiled at Rachel Kincaid, her closest friend. Alex didn’t make friends easily, but Rachel was someone who’d sneaked under her defenses.
“Why are you standing here by yourself?” her friend asked, handing her a glass of champagne.
“Trying to avoid another conversation about Shelby or what I think of the new president of the TCC,” Alex admitted, taking the glass with a grateful smile.
“James Harris is a great guy.”
Alex nodded. “I like him, too.” She glanced at the tall African American man standing next to the right of them, talking to Rose Clayton. “And, oh my God, he’s seriously hot.”
In fact, there were many drop-dead gorgeous men in this room, most of them members of the TCC. She knew why she was single—chronic commitment and abandonment issues—but that didn’t mean she had to be celibate. Yet she was.
“You keep looking at Daniel Clayton,” Rachel remarked. “Not that I blame you. I swear he was birthed by an angel.”
An unfortunate choice of words, Alex thought wryly, since Daniel’s mom was reputed to be anything but celestial. Daniel never spoke about Stephanie but there were enough gossips in Royal to ascertain a little of what his life with his tempestuous and unstable mother had been like. According to the grapevine, Rose had been the only responsible adult in his life. His loyalty to his grandmother was rock-solid and unshakable.
Their romance had been doomed from the start. Because, as it turned out, Alex had never been able to compete with Rose and Daniel’s fierce allegiance to The Silver C ranch.
“Matt Galloway is just as good-looking,” Alex commented, partly to be perverse but also to distract Rachel