Twins For The Texan. Charlene Sands
around the parquet dance floor set up under the glorious white tent. Brooke took a position in the outer circle as the two lovebirds danced to a George Strait ballad. The lights were dimmed, and a sole spotlight shone on them like a halo. Heather really was glowing now.
Once the dance was over, there was a round of applause, and the bandleader urged the guests to join the bride and groom on the dance floor. Brooke headed to her table. Before she reached her seat, a man approached. He was in his midforties, she guessed, his tie crooked, his entire body seemingly angled to the left, as if he’d fall over any second. “W-would...you like to d-dance?”
His breath reeked of alcohol. “Uh, no thank you.”
“Just one dance, missy, is all I’m asking.”
“No, thank you,” Brooke said as politely as she could manage. She turned away from him and started for her table again. But he snagged her arm from behind, thick fingers digging deep into her skin. She whirled on him and yanked her arm free. “What part of no don’t you get?” she said quietly. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene at Heather’s wedding.
“You’re a f-feisty little th-thing.” He reached for her again and it was easy to step out of his grasp.
“And you’ve obviously had too much to drink.”
“Is there a problem here?” Wyatt got between her and the pesky man, towering a good six inches above the guy. Wyatt’s glare made it clear he wasn’t one to mess with.
The man leaned way over, nearly toppling, and Wyatt quickly caught him.
“No p-problem. Nope. N-not a one,” he said, chuckling.
“I think you need some air.” Wyatt held the man upright and turned to Brooke, his mouth twisting in a smirk. He winked at her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He escorted—or rather supported—the guy out of the tent and Brooke returned to her seat. The man was probably harmless, but Brooke didn’t like being manhandled that way. She’d been ready to raise her voice and call security, which would’ve dampened the festive mood. Once again, Wyatt was there, stepping in to save the day.
A quiet hum strummed through her body and she smiled.
“That’s weird Uncle Hal,” Connie said into her ear as Brooke lowered down into the chair beside her. “I caught some of what happened out there and my whole family apologizes to you.” Connie made a face. “Hal likes to drink...when the liquor is free. Heather almost didn’t invite him to the wedding. She was afraid he’d cause a scene. But he seems to have been neutralized.”
“Neutralized?”
“Yeah, once he’s been set straight, he doesn’t cause any more trouble. He’ll probably come over to say he’s sorry.”
“I hope not.” Brooke shivered.
“Who was that hunk who took him outside?”
“Oh, um, he’s a friend of the groom’s. I met him earlier today.”
“Does he have a younger brother, if you know what I mean?”
Brooke sighed. “Yeah, I do know what you mean. And honestly, I don’t know.”
* * *
“You’re three for three, Wyatt,” Brooke said.
Wyatt held her at arm’s length as they danced to a light and breezy love song. His touch, though highly appropriate, thrilled her from head to toe. There was something steady and sturdy about him. He made her feel female, which seemed silly, but those deep blue eyes studied her with keen intent, as if she were a secret art treasure or a delicious hot fudge sundae. Either way, she was happy to be the object of his attention.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“You saved me thrice, my lord,” she said with a mock curtsy. “The last time with big Uncle Hal.”
He laughed. “You were handling the situation just fine.”
“You think so?”
“I do. But I also saw the indecision on your face. Where I come from, a man doesn’t lay a hand on a woman ’less he’s invited. When he didn’t back down I figured you didn’t want to make a scene.”
“You’re right about that. I don’t like to draw attention to myself.”
He drew her closer and spoke into her ear softly, “Then you shouldn’t have worn that dress.”
His gaze dipped past the lace on her scooped neckline and touched upon her breasts. From under the material, her nipples tightened. Wyatt could do that to her with one look.
“You don’t like it?” she asked, a little uncertain. “Or was that a compliment?”
Emma, her bestie, business partner and sister-in-law, was always telling her to put some color in her wardrobe, but black was her thing. She wasn’t a floral kind of girl.
“Every guy in this place has his sights set on you. And I’m the one dancing with you.” Appreciation shone in his eyes and she almost forgot all about Royce what’s-his-name. “I like it, all right.”
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.” His hands snaked around her waist, and the space between them lessened to inches. Brooke wasn’t complaining. He smelled like whiskey and something woodsy and natural. She took deep breaths of him, drinking in his scent and enjoying the way his dark blond hair curled at his collar.
“I have a confession,” he said in a quiet rasp. “I’m glad your car ran out of gas today.”
Something broke apart inside her then, and her cynicism crumbled away. At least for the present, she wasn’t going to question her actions. Or his. This perfect guy seemed to come straight out of her dreams, and she wasn’t going to play it safe tonight. Not with Wyatt. She brought her fingers to the curls at the back of his neck and smiled, titling her chin up. Her eyes had to be gleaming now. “I’m glad, too,” she said.
Wyatt’s gaze heated. Thrills ran up and down her spine as she waited for him to do something bold, something daring.
He brought his head closer, never losing eye contact with her. “Are you inviting me?” he said, but he didn’t wait for her answer. The connection they had was real and happening fast. He had to feel it, too.
His lips brushed hers softly, once, twice. Shock waves traveled the length of her body. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed this, how much she’d missed the simple reality of connecting with a man on an elemental level. The pure masculine taste of him washed completely through her, and a soft purr escaped her lips. She kissed him back and things got hot and heavy really fast. He cupped the back of her head, weaving fingers through her long, wild hair. “Oh, man,” he murmured, pressing his lips more forcefully to hers, making exquisite demands on her. Demands she was eager to answer.
Was it lust? She’d been attracted to Wyatt from the second she’d laid her eyes on him. And now he was kissing her as if he’d been starving, and let’s face it, she hadn’t even nibbled in a very long time. Now she was ravenous.
Wyatt broke off the kiss before things got completely out of control on the dance floor and sighed loud enough for her to hear his frustration. Her ego was lifted to new heights as he tugged her tightly into his embrace, pressing their bodies closer. The slow ballad continued, but she barely heard the music. All she knew, all she felt, was her connection to Wyatt. They were so close, so incredibly in tune with each other.
Tension sizzled between them in a crazy way that upset her newly regained balance. She wasn’t ready for this, for him. But when the dance ended and he stared into her eyes, she was lost.
“Let’s get some air, darlin’.”
She gave him a tiny nod, and he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the edge of the draped tent that led to the lake.
Soft