Читать книгу Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan - Christine Rimmer - Страница 9

At 3:10 a.m. Friday, Ethan clapped his brother Corey on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky man,” he said.

“Yes, I am,” Corey agreed. “I’ll walk you out.”

Jackson, who was good and toasted at that point, called, “Hey, where you two goin’? Party’s jus’ gettin’ started. ‘S’bad enough Dillon crapped out on us early.”

The redhead on his lap giggled. “Yeah, you two. Stick aroun’ …”

“I’ll be back,” promised Corey with a rueful grin.

Jason, across the table from his twin, shook a finger. “You guys are gettin’ old,” he accused.

Neither Corey nor Ethan argued. The lone bartender, left to close up the place when the party was finally over, shook his head and went on polishing the short bar at the other end of the room. He’d stopped serving at two, per Montana law. But that didn’t mean the partiers couldn’t bring their own and serve themselves.

Ethan waved and left the private back room of the Hitching Post with the groom at his side. They emerged midway along a dim hallway and went right.

Corey pushed the bar on the heavy door beneath the red exit sign and the cool night air came in around them. He waved Ethan out ahead of him and put down the stop on the door to keep it from latching.

They stood in the quiet parking lot under the sodium vapor lights and Corey asked, “You good to drive?”

Ethan nodded. “Not even buzzed. I couldn’t afford to get blasted. I’m taking Lizzie to Bozeman bright and early tomorrow to buy supplies for the wedding cake.”

Corey grinned. He was a fine-looking man and took after their mother’s side of the family, with lighter hair and eyes than Ethan had. “Got news for you, big brother. Tomorrow is already today.”

“Did you have to remind me?”

Corey chuckled, but then he grew serious. “I owe you. And Lizzie. You’ve made Erin very happy.” His deep voice softened when he said his bride’s name. And it struck Ethan strongly: Corey was deeply in love.

First Dillon. Now Corey.

The Traub brothers were dropping like flies lately.

Not that there was anything wrong with settling down. If a man was interested in that kind of thing.

Corey went on, “I told Erin all about the Texas Bluebell Bakery, about those cream cakes and éclairs that could light up your mouth, and about those pies Lizzie’s French mama used to bake. Remember those pies? I loved them all. Especially the sweet-potato pie.” Corey stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stared up toward the sky, a dreamy look on his face. “When I think of Cécile Landry’s sweet-potato pie, it brings it all back, you know? Being a kid again, before Dad died, when life was simple, when a piece of pie could just make your day …”

Ethan did remember Cécile Landry’s pies. “I was partial to the strawberry-rhubarb, myself.”

“Oh, God,” said Corey with a groan. “The strawberry-rhubarb …”

“Lizzie still bakes a rhubarb pie for me now and then. And they’re just as good as her mama’s, believe me.” Lizzie. He scowled. Lizzie, who thought she was leaving him ….

Corey lowered his head. He peered at Ethan more closely. “You’re lookin’ a little grim.”

“Lizzie wants to quit.” The words were out before he even realized he would say them. And then he went ahead and elaborated, sounding more annoyed than he meant to. “She’s got a dream, you know?”

Corey did know. “The bakery—but you were aware of that. You told me two or three years ago, after the two of you became BFFNB, that she wanted to open a bakery again someday.”

“Uh … BFFNB?”

“Best Friends Forever, No Benefits,” Corey explained with a self-satisfied grin.

“Very funny—and it doesn’t matter that I was aware of her big dream. The point is I never really thought she would ever go through with it. What’s wrong with working for me, that’s what I want to know?”

“Whoa.” Corey stepped back. “You’re really upset about this.”

Ethan felt embarrassed suddenly. Which was ridiculous. He grunted. “Well, yeah. Yeah, I am. We’ve got a good thing going, me and Lizzie. And have you any idea how much I pay her?”

“What’s that have to do with anything?”

“Just answer the damn question.”

Corey answered carefully. “I’m sure it’s a lot.”

“You bet it’s a lot. She’s got full medical and dental. She’s even got points in TOI.”

Corey’s brows drew together. “But she wants to get back into her family’s business.”

“Hold on a second here,” Ethan grumbled. “You’re my brother. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side. But Lizzie’s always struck me as the type who gets things done, who sees what she wants and makes sure it happens. She wants to open a bakery.”

“It’s a phase, that’s all. She’ll get past it.”

Corey only looked at him.

“What?” Ethan demanded.

Corey spoke with exasperating gentleness. “I gotta say I’ve learned a lot about women since I found Erin. Before Erin, I thought I knew it all. But now I’m kind of getting the picture that I didn’t know squat.”

“And your point is, exactly?”

“Ethan, I’m only saying I don’t think you’re going to get very far with a capable, take-charge woman like Lizzie by underestimating her.”

“What the hell? Who says I’m underestimating her? And who says I want to get somewhere with her?”

“Whoa, brother. You are really turned around about this, aren’t you?”

“Turned around? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Corey gave him another of those long, unreadable looks. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to put your fist in my face?”

Because I am, Ethan thought. Which was really all out of proportion to the situation, and he knew that. He dialed it back, going for a slow breath as he ordered his body to relax, take it easy. “Sorry. It’s late. I’ve got a lot on my mind and a bad case of jet lag, you know?”

Corey’s expression said he wasn’t buying Ethan’s excuses, but he let it go. “I hear you. Get a little sleep, okay?” He turned for the propped-open door to go back inside.

Ethan felt like a complete jerk bag—meaning worse than a jerk. More like a whole bagful of jerks. “Corey?”

Corey stopped in midstep, sent a glance over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad you found Erin. Congratulations, man.”

Corey smiled then. A real smile. “Thanks. I hope you work it out with Lizzie.”

What exactly did he mean by that?

Ethan decided he didn’t want to know.

Lizzie was up at seven, showered and dressed and ready to face the day by seven-thirty. She headed for the kitchen fully expecting to brew some coffee, grab some toast and be on her way, alone.

But as soon as she opened the door of her room, her nose told her the coffee was already made.

She entered the kitchen to find Ethan sitting at the table in the breakfast nook. He was freshly shaved and wearing boots, jeans and a casual shirt.

“I got the coffee going,” he said. He raised his full mug and took a sip. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever get up.”

She made a face at him. But actually, she was pleased that he’d made the effort, and that she would have his company for the next few hours. “Want some eggs?”

“Do we have time?”

“Sure. Scrambled?”

“Great.”

She went to work on the food. It didn’t take long. She slid his plate in front of him and put the jam in the center of the table. Then she grabbed her own plate and sat down across from him. They ate in silence, fueling up for the morning ahead. He did look a little tired, she thought. There were shadows beneath his eyes.

“How much sleep did you get?” she asked, as she took their empty plates back to the sink.

“Enough.”

She sent him a glance. “Listen, I can manage the trip myself if you want to go back to bed.”

“I’m taking you.”

“But if you—”

He cut her off. “Look, I don’t want to go back to bed. I want to drive you. Got it?”

“Uh, sure. Got it.” She scraped the plates and put them in the dishwasher. “How was the party?”

“It was fine,” he said. His tone told her that the subject was closed, just in case she had any idea of trying to get maybe a sentence or two more out of him. So she left it alone.

A few minutes later, they climbed into Ethan’s SUV and were on their way.

In Bozeman, they spent about an hour each at the two restaurant supply places. After that, they visited a community co-op grocery, where there was also a deli. They had lunch there before moving on to their final stop, which was Safeway.

They were on the road back to Thunder Canyon at one-thirty. Lizzie was feeling really good about everything by then. Ethan had been sweet and helpful the whole trip. And she had managed to find everything she needed, which was a considerable relief.

At the house, Ethan helped her carry everything inside. When the back of the big SUV was finally empty and the granite counters in the kitchen were piled high with all she’d bought, he asked, “What else can I do?”

“Not a thing,” she told him. “You’re my favorite boss in the whole world and you have my undying gratitude.” She started emptying the bags—groceries first.

He came around the counter toward her. “I love it when you’re grateful.” He stopped inches away.

She could smell his aftershave, which was subtle and manly and whispered tastefully of money. Already, there was a shadow of dark beard on his sculpted cheeks. She paused with a flat of free-range eggs in her hands. “You know you’re directly between me and the fridge, right?”

“Oops.” He gave her one of his famous killer half smiles—and stayed where he was.

With a put-upon sigh, she eased around him and carried the eggs to the roomy side-by-side high-end refrigerator. When she shut the door and turned back to him, he hadn’t budged. He was still standing there, watching her. A shiver went through her, one way too much like the one she’d felt the day before, when they stood in the foyer together, after Erin and Erika left.

There were bags on every counter. She could so easily have just started on one of them—and steered clear of him. But that seemed downright cowardly somehow. What was the matter with her, anyway? Afraid to approach Ethan? Made no sense at all.

So she marched back around him and started on the next bag, hauling out a jar of cherry juice.

“Lizzie.” His big hand closed over her arm—zap. Like a light tap with a live electrical wire.

Seriously. This could not be happening.

She gritted her teeth and faced him. “What?”

“I’m leaving, don’t worry.” He spoke quietly now, in a low, burned-sugar voice. And he still had hold of her arm. In fact, he showed no inclination to let go. “I’ll get out of your way …”

By a sheer effort of will, she ignored the scary sensations that were zipping through her and muttered drily, “Promises, promises.”

“Just one thing …” His eyes were soft as kitten fur. Was he going to kiss her?

No way.

Gently, she eased her arm free of his hold and fell back a step.

There. Much better. She could breathe again. And the disorienting shivery feeling had passed. “Sure. What?”

“Tonight. The rehearsal dinner. I want you to come with me.”

She frowned. “But … I already bowed out on that one.”

“I know you did.” Now he was all eager and boyish and coaxing. “Change your mind. Come with me. Pete and my mom will be there. And my brothers and Rose. And Erin, of course. And Erika. They’re all crazy about you. It will be fun. And you can meet my cousins DJ and Dax, and their wives, Allaire and Shandie, and—”

“Ethan.”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Is there something … going on with you?”

Now he was the one stepping back. At last. “Going on? What are you talking about?”

“Are you, um, putting moves on me or something?”

His mouth dropped open. “What the hell, Lizzie? What makes you think that?” He looked totally stunned at the very idea.

Which wasn’t the least bit flattering and also made her feel like a complete idiot for even suggesting such a thing. Heat flooded up her neck. She just knew her whole face was as red as the jar of cherry juice she still clutched in her hand.

She set the juice on the counter and whirled away from him. “Um …” She pressed her eyes shut, hard, willing away her ridiculous blush as well as her own embarrassment at the whole situation. “Sorry. Never mind, okay? Just … forget I asked.”

His hands, warm and so strong, closed over her shoulders—and there it was again, that quivery, scary feeling. She wanted to sink right through the floor. He said gently, “Lizzie …”

She asked again, “What is going on with you, Ethan?”

“Nothing. Come with me to the rehearsal dinner.”

She shrugged off his hands and made herself face him once more. “Look, I have a lot on my mind and a lot to do, okay?”

“Well, I know. But you won’t start on the cake until, like, the middle of the night or something, right? And you’ve got everything you need now to get the job done. I just thought, you know, why not take a break, come out and see the family?”

He was right, of course. Now the problem of assembling equipment and ingredients had been solved, she could make it to that dinner, no problem.

But she still felt that he was up to something. Even if he wasn’t putting moves on her. “You have some kind of plan. That’s it, isn’t it? You think that if you’re relentlessly charming and helpful and drag me with you everywhere you go, I’m going to give in and decide I don’t need to open my bakery, after all.” She kept her gaze on his handsome face as she spoke. And she saw how he glanced to the side. Yeah, it was only for a second, and then he was meeting her eyes again. But that slight shift away was enough. She knew then that she’d hit the old nail square on the head. “Hah,” she said. “That’s it. That is exactly what’s going on with you.”

“No. Wrong. That’s not true at all.” His square jaw was set and his eyes flashed with annoyance.

“Don’t lie to me, Ethan. I know what you’re doing.”

“How do you know that? Next you’ll be claiming you can read my mind.”

“We have an agreement. That’s not going to change.”

“It might.” He smiled then. A slow smile. The smile of a man who never let anything stand in his way when he wanted something, a man used to getting what he wanted in pretty much everything eventually. “You never know.”

“Ethan, are you listening?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll say it slowly. I’m not going to the rehearsal dinner, thank you.” She exaggerated each word, just to make sure he understood.

He leaned against the counter and folded his muscular arms over his broad, deep chest. “And that proves … what?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything. I just don’t want to go. I want to unpack these groceries and relax, go to bed nice and early. I intend to make Erin’s cake spectacular. I consider it a point of professional pride.”

“We both know it will be great because you’re baking it.”

“Thank you.”

“Come on.” His voice was soft again. “You have to eat dinner …”

“And I will. Here. Quietly. Alone.”

“Oh, what? Like it’s some kind of … Zen thing?” Now he was razzing her, pure and simple.

She kept her voice level when she answered. “Yes, Ethan. Let’s call it a Zen thing—in fact, you can call it whatever you want. What you need to get through your head is that I’m not going with you to that rehearsal dinner.”

“What if I said I wanted you there for professional reasons?”

“Well, that would be a flat-out lie. And I would still say no.”

Those fine lips of his curled in what could only be called a sneer. “These are supposed to be my two months, remember? You’re supposed to be doing what I want when I want it.”

Now she was getting a little bit angry. “Suddenly, I’m your … indentured servant? Is that where you’re going with this?”

He made a sound in his throat. An embarrassed kind of sound. Good. He should be embarrassed. “Uh. No. No, of course not.”

“Well, great. Because being your slave is not going to work for me, Ethan. Even though you’re about the best friend I’ve got in the world, and I want you to be happy, I need to be happy, too. I like a challenge and I’m thrilled to go the extra mile and create this cake for your new sister-in-law. But I will not be dragged to that dinner just because it’s part of your campaign to make me change my mind about what I want to do with my life. Do you understand?”

He no longer lounged against the counter. He’d drawn himself up straight. And for a moment, he looked as if he might continue the argument. But he caught himself. He raked a hand through that thick almost-black hair and muttered, “Gee, Lizzie. I didn’t mean for you to get all het up.”

She drew a slow breath and forced a wobbly let’s-make-peace smile. “I’ll say it once more. I’m not going. And can we be done with this conversation now? Please?”

Something hot and angry flashed in his eyes, his real feelings breaking the surface—and then vanishing again as fast as she had glimpsed them. “Gotta go,” he said dismissively.

And he did leave, just like that. He went around her and strode out through the arch to the hallway. She longed to stop him, to try and settle things for good with him, to somehow put an end to this strange tension and unrest between them.

But at that moment, she didn’t see how to settle anything. She told herself that at least she’d held her ground on the issue of the rehearsal dinner, that she’d explained to him—for the umpteenth time—that she was moving on and there was nothing he could do about it.

She decided, for now, just to let it be.

The rehearsal at Thunder Canyon Community Church started at four. Afterward, they all headed for the resort and the dinner in the Gallatin Room, which was the resort’s best restaurant.

Ethan, as one of the groomsmen, attended both functions. At the dinner, he ended up with his big brother Dillon—the best man—on one side and his mom on the other. Both his brother and his mom asked him if something was bothering him.

He lied and said, “Not a thing,” picturing Lizzie’s obstinate face in his head, promising himself that one way or another, she was going to see the light within the next eight weeks and realize she loved her job with him and could never leave.

After the dinner, almost everyone wanted to call it a night to be fresh for the big day tomorrow. Not the twins, though. Jackson and Jason were raring to go. They had plans, plans that consisted of continuing the all-night bachelor party from the evening before. They headed down to the Hitching Post to listen to some live music and party some more.

Ethan went with them. Not because he was dying to party so much, but because he wasn’t ready to go home. Home was where Lizzie was.

And tonight, that didn’t seem all that welcoming a place.

Plus, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on his younger brothers. They could get rowdy. Since Dillon had gone home with Erika, and Corey said he needed a good night’s sleep because he was getting married the next day, that left Ethan to step up and keep furniture and glassware from getting broken. Not to mention that someone had to be the designated driver.

Jackson, especially, seemed intent on having himself the wildest weekend on record. He’d been blessedly silent for the toasts at the rehearsal dinner. But at the Hitching Post, he raised one full glass after another. He toasted the picture of the almost-naked lady over the bar. And he toasted man’s freedom from apron strings and fancy weddings. He flirted shamelessly with every pretty woman in the place.

Ethan also met more than one good-looking woman that night. He flirted, too, a little. Why not?

But he didn’t have the heart to ask a pretty girl if she might like to come on home with him. Since Lizzie had been making noises about quitting, he hadn’t felt much like hooking up. Sometimes in life, even for a guy who liked women a lot, there were more important things than sex.

When the Hitching Post closed at 2:00 a.m., Ethan managed to coax his two liquored-up brothers into his SUV. They rolled down the windows and sang stupid drinking songs all the way up Thunder Mountain to the resort. It was past three when he finally got them into their rooms and down for the night.

Back at his house, everything was quiet and dark.

Lizzie would be awake within the hour, he knew, to get going on the cake. He considered waiting up for her, maybe brewing her some coffee so it would be ready when she needed it.

Maybe making peace with her …

But in the end, he only shook his head and climbed the stairs to the master suite.

There would be no peace with Lizzie. He knew that. Not while she was so set on leaving him.

Lizzie was up at four, as planned, and got right to work. She didn’t see Ethan all morning. Apparently, it had been a long night and he was sleeping in.

Or maybe he was just avoiding her after their argument yesterday.

That was fine. She had a lot to do and no spare time for worrying about smoothing things over with him.

Everything went off without a hitch. She was putting the finishing touches on the decorations at one-thirty that afternoon.

The resort manager, Grant Clifton, was kind enough to send a van and a couple of big, strong guys to Ethan’s house to pick up the wedding cake. They arrived at two. With Lizzie supervising, the guys got the cake into the van. One sat in back to protect the cake against any possible mishap during the drive. Lizzie followed them up the mountain to the resort.

She breathed a huge sigh of relief when they got the cake into the ballroom and onto the cake table without serious incident. A few of the gerbera daisies looked wobbly, though. Lizzie was carefully straightening them—each one with its stem in a tiny separate tube of water—when the bride appeared.

Erin Castro let out a cry of sheer joy. “Oh, Lizzie! I swear, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” She grabbed Lizzie in a hug.

Lizzie laughed and hugged her back. “I’m so glad it’s what you wanted.”

Erin hugged her harder. “What I wanted? It’s more than that. It’s … my dream cake.”

As resort staff bustled around them, getting the ballroom ready for the reception that evening, Lizzie and Erin stood side by side, their arms around each other’s waists, and admired Lizzie’s creation. It was really quite something, each graduated tier white and smooth as driven snow, draped in fondant flowers and edible pearls, crowned with the bright-colored daisies.

“Perfect,” said Erin.

“Good.” Lizzie nodded. “My job here is done.”

Erin turned to her again. “You know what? We really need you right here in Thunder Canyon.”

“Need me? For what?”

“Corey told me all about your family’s bakery in Midland. He said you’re planning to open a new bakery there.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, how about opening one here instead?”

Lizzie was flattered. “I’m honestly touched that you think I’d fit in here.”

“I don’t think it. I know it.” Erin turned and took both of Lizzie’s hands. “I’m only saying, you know, just consider it, give it some thought?”

It wasn’t going to happen. But then again, Lizzie was finding she really did like this charming mountain town and the people who lived in it. Why jump straight to an unqualified no? “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

“Great—and I’ve got to get moving.” Erin grabbed Lizzie in one last hug. “Hair. Makeup. It never ends. So … six?”

“I’ll be there. I can’t wait.”

Lizzie went back to the house, which she found empty.

Still no sign of crabby Ethan, which was fine. Until she figured out how to smooth things over with him, and make him see that he had to get real and accept that she was not giving up on her lifelong dream, well, there wasn’t much point in dealing with him anyway.

They would only end up getting into another argument.

She went to work cleaning up the kitchen. And when that was done, she took a long, lazy bath. She put a lot of straightening gel in her hair, blew it dry and took a long time with the flat iron. It turned out great, falling in soft waves to her shoulders, smoother and sleeker than she’d dared to hope. She also lingered over her makeup, getting it just right.

Her dress was a vivid royal blue, sleeveless, with a V-neck and a swingy hemline. She had gorgeous dressy blue sandals with very high heels to go with it and some fabulous chandelier earrings with cobalt-blue stones.

Lizzie was a realist. She was no great beauty and she knew it; her nose was too big, her jaw a bit too strong. Her maman had been petite and lovely. Lizzie, though, took after her tall, broad-shouldered dad.

“Stand up straight, ma chère,” her maman always used to say. “Be proud. There is no beauty like that of a tall, proud woman.”

Lizzie had always tried to take her mother’s advice to heart. Tonight, in five-inch heels, she would tower over a good portion of the men at the reception. So be it.

When she checked herself out in the full-length mirror on the back of her bathroom door, she felt totally satisfied with what she saw. She twirled in a circle and loved the way the hem of her blue dress swung out around her.

Yeah, she would definitely do. With a last wink at her own image, she hustled into the bedroom to grab her blue satin clutch.

The light tap came at her door just as she was about to open it. Her heart rate accelerated at the sound.

Sheesh. No reason to get all breathless and fluttery just because Ethan had decided to be a gentleman after all and not make her go to his brother’s wedding alone.

She pulled the door wide.

And there he was in all his gorgeous, manly splendor. Freshly shaved and showered, looking like a GQ cover model in a tux that must have cost a bunch. “Ready?”

She laughed and did a little twirl right there in the doorway and the dress swirled out around her like the petals of a flower. “What do you think?”

“You look terrific.” He said it in a grouchy tone, but somehow also managed to sound as if he actually meant it.

“Why, thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.” She reached for his arm. He surprised her and gave it, tucking her fingers companionably just below the crook of his elbow, over the rich, dark fabric of his jacket.

Yes, she felt that thrill again, the hot little shiver that formed at the point of contact and kind of quivered its way up her bare arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake. But it wasn’t so bad, really, now that she was getting used to it.

In fact, if she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that it felt kind of nice.

Wait. Scratch nice. It felt better than nice. It felt pretty wonderful.

It was the wedding of the year, everyone agreed.

Or at least, of the year so far.

Lizzie thought it was wonderfully romantic.

The handsome old, white clapboard church was decorated with thousands of bright summer flowers and every pew was full. Corey’s brothers and stepdad stood up with him. And Erin’s bridesmaids looked like summer flowers themselves, each in a different-colored bright satin gown. Erin was a vision in white as she floated down the aisle to meet her groom.

More than one sniffle could be heard from the pews during the exchange of vows. And an audible sigh went up when Corey finally kissed his bride.

The minister announced, “May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Corey Traub.”

Lizzie, in a back pew, heard somebody down the row whisper, “Who’s that?” as the bride and groom turned to face their wedding guests.

“I don’t know,” was the murmured response.

Lizzie glanced over her shoulder to see a tall, lean man silhouetted in the open doors from the vestibule. He wore old jeans, a wrinkled shirt and a black Stetson with the brim dipped low, hiding his face, so that all she could see was a square jaw stubbled with beard.

More people were starting to whisper.

“What in the world …?”

“Never seen him before …”

There were rustling sounds everywhere as the guests turned to see what all the whispering was about.

The mystery man stepped back. He disappeared from the open doorway. And then Dillon Traub, the best man, came striding down the side aisle, slipping out after the stranger.

The organist started playing again and everyone faced front once more as the radiant bride and her handsome groom walked back up the aisle arm in arm.

The reception, in the flower-and-satin-bedecked resort ballroom, was fabulous, Lizzie thought. Dinner was served at eight.

Lizzie, as Ethan’s de facto date, was seated with him and the rest of the wedding party at the main table. Everyone made a point to greet her and tell her what a splendid job she’d done on the cake.

Ethan seemed to have put aside his frustration with her, at least for the evening. It was almost like old times, she thought, like back before she’d ever even hinted that she might be moving on. He joked with her and they shared the knowing glances they used to share all the time.

She realized she’d missed their friendship lately, during the pitched battle over her right to define her own future. She’d missed the way they laughed at the same things, the way they could look at each other and know what the other was thinking.

Right after the food was served, she heard Pete Wexler asking Dillon about the mystery man who’d appeared at the back of the church. Dillon said something about a very old and dear friend who was “going through a rough time.” Lizzie noticed the speaking glance Dillon shared with his wife. The look on Erika’s face said she knew exactly what was going on with guy in the black cowboy hat.

Lizzie waited for Pete to ask more questions.

But then Claudia, on Pete’s other side, put her hand over Pete’s and whispered in his ear. He turned to his wife. And the subject of the mystery man was forgotten.

Shortly after the exchange between Dillon and Pete, Ethan leaned close to Lizzie and said for her ears alone, “Help me keep an eye on Jackson, will you?”

“What’s up with him anyway?” she asked. Jackson looked as though he’d had way too much to drink, even though the evening was just getting started.

“Basically, he’s decided marriage is a crock,” Ethan told her. “And he’s been wasted pretty much straight through since Thursday night.”

“Charming,” she muttered, meaning it wasn’t. Jackson had always been something of a bad boy, but tonight he had the look of a man about to cause a ruckus. “I’ll watch him.”

“Thanks.” Ethan’s voice was velvet soft.

She looked into his deep, dark eyes and thought how a woman could drown staring in those eyes—well, some women anyway.

But not Lizzie.

Uh-uh. She loved Ethan dearly, but as a friend and nothing more.

Or so she kept telling herself ….

After the meal, before the toasts and the cutting of the cake, there was music. Corey led Erin out onto the floor in front of the long main table for their first dance as man and wife. Lizzie got a little misty-eyed just watching them; they looked so happy together.