“Ah, you’re an entrepreneur?”
“I suppose some might call me that.”
He took pride in the investments he’d made in other companies that had paid off well. He’d made his first million before his twenty-seventh birthday, and he’d worked hard ever since to ensure a comfortable future for his family. Now he had all the money he’d ever need. Without Madelyn to share in his success, all of his hard work would’ve seemed pointless, but for his twins.
That was what getting off the ranch this weekend was about, him trying to move on with his life.
Start livin’ again.
He glanced at Brooke, her red-lipped mouth in a pout as she tried to catch some cell service by waving her phone up in the air, putting it out the window for a few seconds. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. She was a breath of fresh air and that alone stirred his juices. She was different and, he supposed, a lot of fun if he’d ever let himself find out.
“Nothing?” he asked once she gave up with her phone.
“Nope, not a blasted thing.”
“We’ll be at the hotel soon,” he said.
The Inn at Sweetwater was known for lush gardens and scenic bridges along a natural lake. It was the destination spot for lovers and known as the ultimate venue for a romantic wedding. It was like the cherry topping on a hot fudge sundae for a bride and groom to speak their vows there. And it was why he’d resisted coming to this wedding.
Not on this day, of all days. It was Madelyn’s birthday.
Hell, it was the exact reason Johnny insisted on his getting off the ranch. Wyatt needed the distraction, the time away. Wyatt had been restless and pensive and even Henrietta, bless her soul, had insisted he needed time to clear his head and gain some perspective. He’d be leaving his kids in her care overnight. Something he’d never done before, so with Johnny on his back and Henrietta pushing him, he’d accepted the invitation.
“What’s wrong?” Brooke asked.
He turned to look into her pretty brown eyes. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”
“Because I know you so well,” she replied, grinning.
He laughed. “Sorry, just deep in thought.”
“No apologies necessary. Aha! Finally, I’m getting bars on my cell. We must be nearing civilization. Excuse me while I call a tow service for my car.”
“No problem.” Wyatt listened to the deep, sensual lilt of her voice and tried to keep his eyes focused on the highway—not on Brooke Johnson, the engaging woman he’d picked up along the road.
* * *
As they drove through the intricate wrought iron gates of the venue, they entered a vibrant world of golf-course-green grass and tall swaying willows shading the lane leading up to the hotel. The Inn at Sweetwater was a plantation-style structure with palatial columns and snow-white shutters on every window. The gardens were ablaze with purple azaleas, pink peonies and stargazer lilies, and bluebonnets were interwoven among the stepping-stones. The paths all led to picturesque bridges arching over placid ponds. Off to the right fifty yards away, Sweetwater Lake sparkled in the late-afternoon sun.
“It looks like something out of a painting,” Brooke said, hearing awe in her voice. She had an eye for creativity, and whoever landscaped these grounds knew how to set the mood. “Have you ever been here before?”
“No,” Wyatt said. “But I’ve heard about it enough. It’s my mother’s favorite place. She’d have luncheons here with her friends.”
“I can see why she’d like coming here.”
Close to the lake’s bank, there was a flowered canopy with descending wisteria vines waiting for the bride and groom. Hundreds of chairs tied with delicate satin bows were lined up in rows. Most of the guests were already seated.
Wyatt pulled the car up to a valet. And once they climbed out, he asked, “Want to make a run for it?”
“I think we have to. The wedding is supposed to start any minute.”
“Okay, after you,” he said, gesturing for her to take the lead.
She trotted along on her high heels, not an easy task even though the lush grass was as thick as a carpet. But after a few strides her heel dug into the rich earth and got stuck. Her leg twisted and she tipped sideways, stumbling. “Oh!”
Wyatt reached out and snagged her waist, catching her fall just in time.
“I’ve got you,” he said, confidently. “You okay?”
They were locked together now, and her sensitive skin prickled under his touch. She liked being in his arms, and he seemed reluctant to let her go. A few seconds ticked by before he did.
“How many times are you going to save me today?” she asked breathlessly.
“As many as it takes,” he offered, his blue eyes sparkling. She didn’t know what to make of her miracle cowboy who’d caused her body to heat up with just one playful look. Was he teasing or flirting?
“I’ve got a solution to this problem,” she said, snapping out of her insanity.
She slipped a finger into her shoes to pull at the straps and then wiggled out of them. Straightening, she came up holding her scarlet-red sandals between her fingers and nodded. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
He blinked, grinned at her bare feet and then offered her his hand. They took off at a very brisk walk, making it to the last row of seats just seconds before the bridesmaids began their trek down the aisle.
Brooke sighed in relief and sat back. A few minutes later, everyone in attendance rose to their feet as Heather glided down the aisle in an ivory satin wedding gown, her father walking beside her wearing a proud tearful smile. She held a gorgeous bouquet of new roses and fresh natural greenery that looked as though it had been handpicked just moments ago.
She met her handsome groom under the canopy, love shining in her eyes. Brooke looked on, happy for her friend who’d found love here in Texas. She’d probably start a family soon. Brooke’s future wasn’t quite so rosy. She didn’t begrudge her friends, who’d already found happiness, but she’d always wondered what it was about her that seemed to repel any form of long-lasting relationship with a man. Being Dylan McKay’s younger sister was like a noose around her neck. Just hang me now, she’d say to herself, whenever a man she’d dated starting hinting at meeting her celebrity brother. Of course, then came the teeny favors they’d ask of her.
Would your brother mind reading my script? I know it’s gonna be a blockbuster.
I’m writing an autobiography and your brother would be perfect to star in the movie.
I’m starting a new business venture. I’m sure Dylan would love to get in on the ground floor once you tell him about it.
Riiiight.
Brooke was fed up with men who used her for their own personal gain. Leaving LA when she did had been a necessity. After the debacle with Royce Brisbane, who’d kept his cards close to the vest, and only showed his hand once she’d fallen in love with him, she’d written off relationships for the extended future. She’d been convinced her Wall Street–type boyfriend didn’t give a lick about Dylan, until he handed her three scripts for her to show him. Three, for heaven’s sake!
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,