Always The Best Man. Michelle Major
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“You make me feel things I haven’t in a long time. I’m sorry, Jase. I can’t—”
He didn’t wait for her to finish. There was no way he was going to listen to the word can’t coming from her, not when she’d basically told him she wanted him. In one quick movement, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.
The moment was cut short when a dog barked—the sound coming from his house—and Emily pulled back. “You have a dog?”
“A puppy,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his jaw and trying to get a handle on the lust raging through him. “Ruby—my pup—was the runt. She was weaker than the rest and her brothers and sister tended to pick on her.”
“You rescue puppies, too? Unbelievable.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Tell that to Ruby.” She reached up on tiptoe, touched her lips to the corner of his mouth and then moved away. “You’re damn near perfect, Jase Crenshaw.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” She shook her head. “It’s too bad for both of us that I gave up on perfect.”
* * *
Crimson, Colorado: Finding home—and forever—in the West
Always the Best Man
Michelle Major
MICHELLE MAJOR grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at www.michellemajor.com.
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For Stephanie.
You have the strongest, bravest spirit of any mother I know and you inspire me every day.
Contents
Some women were meant to be a bride. Emily Whitaker had been one of those women. For years she’d fantasized her walk down the aisle, imagining the lacy gown, the scent of her bouquet and the admiring eyes of family and friends as she entered the church.
When the day had finally arrived, there was no doubt she’d been beautiful, her shiny blond hair piled high on her head, perfect makeup and the dress—oh, her dress. She’d felt like a princess enveloped in so much tulle and lace, the sweetheart neckline both feminine and a little flirty.
Guests had whispered at her resemblance to Grace Kelly, and Emily had been foolish enough to believe that image was the same thing as reality. Her fairy tale had come true as her powerful white knight swooped her away from Crimson, the tiny Colorado mountain town where she’d grown up, to the sophisticated social circles of old-money Boston.
Too soon she discovered that a fantasy wedding was not the same thing as real marriage and a beautiful dress did not equate to a wonderful life. Emily lost her taste for both daydreams and weddings, so she wasn’t sure how she’d found herself outside the swanky bridal boutique in downtown Aspen seven years after her own doomed vows.
“You can’t want me as your maid of honor.”
Katie Garrity, Emily’s soon-to-be sister-in-law smiled. “Of course I do. I asked you, Em. I’d be honored to have you stand up with me.” Katie’s sweet smile faltered. “I mean, if you’ll do it. I know it’s short notice and there’s a lot to coordinate in the next few weeks so...”
“It’s not that I don’t want to...”
Katie was as sweet as any of the cakes and cookies sold in the bakery she owned in downtown Crimson. She’d been a steadfast best friend to Emily’s