My Fair Fortune. Nancy Robards Thompson
the Fortunes, who had gone to such lengths to get the locals all riled up, making everyone believe that her family’s venture, Cowboy Country USA, a Western-themed amusement park, was the root of all evil and would be the demise of Horseback Hollow, would invite her family to the wedding.
Her parents had regretted missing out, but her father had fallen ill this morning, and her mother had stayed home to care for him. Caitlyn had come to the wedding on their behalf, to represent the Moore family and Cowboy Country. She wasn’t here to glad-hand and win people over, of course. She’d simply signed the guest book Alden Moore and family, a subtle reminder that Moore Entertainment was not the enemy. On the contrary. They wanted to be the good neighbor, getting along with the residents of Horseback Hollow, every one of whom, it seemed, had been invited to the wedding.
She looked at the Brit, who wasn’t acting shy about eyeing her.
And that part of the saying that talked about keeping your friends close? Yeah. It definitely applied to this new friend.
A moment ago, she was sure her work here was done, and all she needed to do was wait for the brides and grooms to finish their first dance before she made a discreet exit; except now the hot guy with the cool accent was smiling at her like he found her utterly fascinating.
“All right, then, love,” he purred. “What is your story?”
He pinned her with the most spectacular pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen before arching his right brow a fraction of an inch in a manner that suggested he was waiting for her to elaborate. And then there was that accent. Why had she always been a sucker for an accent? It was her libido’s Achilles’ heel.
“What?” she said. “Are you the bouncer here to throw me out?”
He crossed his arms and appraised her in a less than subtle way that had her insides going all warm and melty. She needed to stop that right now. Mirroring his stance, she crossed her arms and tilted her chin up, hoping for some self-preservation, but her warm and melty insides offered no structure. Her resolve started to slowly crumble under the heat.
“If you must know,” she said. “I’m here by proxy.”
“I didn’t realize wedding invitations were transferable,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t land you in it, because—” he leaned in and whispered in her ear “—really, I don’t belong here, either.”
I won’t land you in it. He was so maddeningly, adorably British it was almost too much, and he was standing so close that she could smell his cologne—something that was probably expensive. Something vaguely green and woodsy—maybe sandalwood...and some cedar—and oh, so manly and delicious.
“So you’re the one who doesn’t belong here?” she countered. “How do you know I’m not the wedding police, ready to bounce you?”
His eyes glistened as his gaze made an even bolder perusal of her body, meandering down the length of her and back up again. Her heart beat with the pulse of the music, and she reveled in this irresistible, magnetic physical awareness.
“Not in that dress, love.”
His breath held a faint hint of peppermint.
“What’s wrong with my dress?”
“Not a bloody thing.”
He flashed a smile that showcased perfect white teeth, and there were those dimples again.
Oh, God, just take me now.
A thrill the likes of which Caitlyn had never experienced skittered down her spine, waking up places that had been sleeping for far too long. This was...fun. A lot more fun than she’d dreamed she’d have tonight.
As a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne, he grabbed two flutes and handed one to her.
“Thank you.” She raised her glass to him, and he followed suit, clinking his to hers before they sipped.
She’d purchased the red dress and strappy heels on the fly this morning. Since she’d only planned on visiting her parents for a few days, she’d packed light and casual. She hadn’t brought along anything that was appropriate for an elaborate Valentine’s Day wedding. She’d been pleasantly surprised to find the flirty little dress in a boutique in Lubbock. With his eyes on her, it felt a whole lot sexier than it had when she’d tried it on and decided it would do. She hadn’t really been excited about the dress or the thought of attending the wedding of four couples she didn’t know. It had barely been a year since she’d called off her own engagement.
The only reason she’d agreed to come tonight was because it had seemed so important to her father. He’d asked her to represent the family because he thought it would be a sign of solidarity for the good folks of Horseback Hollow, or possibly considered a slight if no one from the Moore family bothered to attend. As if anyone would even notice in such a crowd.
Who knew she’d meet someone so fun to play with. Maybe she wasn’t in quite as big a hurry to leave after all. Then again, if she knew what was good for her, she’d leave right now before she gave this Brit a chance to charm her new red dress right off her.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Cait—” She always went by Caitlyn, but tonight it felt more fun to simply be Cait.
“Ah, as in Kiss Me, Kate?”
“Oh, are you a fan of musical theater?”
“Not particularly. I simply wanted to say that.” Their gazes locked. “Kiss me...Cait.”
For the life of her, she didn’t know what came over her, because the next thing she knew, she was leaning in and claiming his lips.
She didn’t even know his name, but she adored the taste of him—champagne and mint...and something else she couldn’t name, something that made her lose herself a little bit and lean in a little closer. His kiss sang through her veins, sent spirals of longing coursing through her, causing the fire deep in her most personal places to rage.
It had been a long time since she’d kissed a man. Since Eric— No, she wouldn’t think about him. Eric would not ruin this moment...or this night, which was becoming better and better with each passing second.
The sound of the bandleader inviting the wedding guests to join the happy couples on the dance floor edged out the interloping thoughts of her ex. When she pulled back, the reality of what she’d just done washed away any lingering residue of Eric.
She’d kissed a man she’d known for less than ten minutes.
And she wanted to kiss him again.
* * *
Bloody hell.
Those were the only words echoing in Brodie Fortune Hayes’s mind as he locked lips with Cait. And he meant those words in the best, most reverent way possible. Just when he thought he’d seen everything, life threw him a curvy surprise wrapped in a sexy red dress. He was obviously finding it difficult to express exactly how much he liked this shapely little package. All he knew was what had started out as a night of familial obligation was turning out to be rather mind-blowing.
Cait pulled back just enough to gaze up at him through thick, dark lashes. She had the loveliest green eyes he’d ever seen. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“Brodie,” he heard himself murmur.
“Brodie the Brit,” she said. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cait from Chicago. I’d shake your hand, but...” She leaned in and dusted his lips with a featherlight kiss. Then she smiled up at him, looking rather pleased with herself.
“Charming to meet you, Cait from Chicago.”
The band shifted from an up-tempo tune into a slow, sultry number just as he decided to lean in for another taste of those lips, but Cait pulled away.
“Listen,”