Chapter One #3
“Well rounded. Layered. Lush and deeply complex,” he countered in a silky way designed to smooth ruffled feathers. “You may not believe it, but I’m an old soul.”
She managed not to snort, which was good, as she was mid-sip.
It was her third or fourth glass of champagne.
She didn’t normally drink, and she’d stop after this glass.
She finished the bubbly in one swallow. “You’re too cute,” she told him as his sexiness threatened to suck her in.
“And laying it on so thick. I should warn you that you’re wasting your time. ”
“I never waste my time.” The words, spoken with such strong conviction, sent a shiver down her spine. “Don’t do anything I don’t want to do or say anything I don’t mean.”
Kate bounded back toward the table then, a welcome interruption with a fistful of mini doughnuts balanced precariously on a small plate.
She’d be on a sugar rush for hours. “Mom, I got you some,” Kate said, plopping the plate down on the white linen tablecloth.
One chocolate-coated dough nut hole rolled off, and Lucas caught it one-handed and popped it in his mouth.
“Hey. That was for my mom,” Kate protested.
“She knows where to find more if she wants it.” He didn’t even look at her daughter as he spoke, his entire focus on Kristen, as if they’d crossed into their own world where no one else existed.
At the same time, he stood and flipped the chair back around.
Kate climbed onto it. Kristen couldn’t help herself.
She grabbed a doughnut and shoved it into her mouth.
The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement, and Kristen felt the impact of his magnetism in her toes when he touched the brim of his hat again and said, “Ma’am. ”
She could do nothing but stare after him as he walked away without a backward glance. “Was that a real cowboy?” Kate asked. Even she seemed awed as the crowd parted to let Lucas through.
Kristen shook herself. “Yes, sweetie. He’s real.” Really full of himself, she didn’t add. She reached for her champagne and, remembering she’d finished it, reached for the water goblet and took a long drink.
“Why are you still sitting here?” Kristen’s mother approached the table, her frown directed at Kristen. “Go socialize. I’m taking the kids home. That means you, Kate. You and Emma are having a sleepover, remember? But wipe your face first. Seriously, Kristen. Have you not taught her any manners?”
“Of course I have,” Kristen said as Kate grabbed her napkin and wiped the powdered sugar off her face.
“All good,” her daughter announced. Kristen glanced over. Some crumbs remained. Close enough. Her mom’s lips puckered in disapproval.
“Are you sure you don’t need help with the kids?” Kris ten asked. She had no desire to stay at the reception and was definitely not in the mood to dance.
Her mother stared down her nose. “You may not be Madi’s bridesmaid, as she only had the one, but you need to stay so it doesn’t look like everyone in the family is leaving.
” Her mother’s firm tone let Kristen know she would not approve of her defecting.
But it wasn’t as if Kristen would be missed.
Over two hundred guests had attended the wedding, and at least a hundred were still at the reception, partying.
“If you really don’t want to be here, then after an hour you can go.” Her mother’s concession arrived with yet another disappointed thinning of her lips. “I’ll see you at the family breakfast tomorrow.” With that, she took Kate’s hand and whisked her away.
Alone at the table, Kate rose. She spotted her younger brother in conversation over by the bar and wandered in Caleb’s direction. When she approached, he handed her a flute of champagne. “I see you also got the command to stay and represent the family.”
“Yep. One more hour and I’ll be free to go. You?”
He shook head covered with a jet-black hair so different from her own mousy light brown.
“I told her no way. I’m waiting a respectable fifteen minutes, and then I’m making my escape.
No rest for the weary. I’m up with the sun so I can get some things done before the family breakfast. The ranch doesn’t run itself, and Dad told me he’s not working tomorrow. ”
That was a rarity. Their father ran the Larrabee Ranch with an iron fist. “Lucky you to get to leave. I don’t know if I can last another hour.”
He stared at her. “Just go back to the cabin if you want, Kristen. What’s she going to do? Ground you? Wyatt’s here, Madi’s here…it’s their reception, and they’re having fun with their friends. That’s all that matters. Not us. Go.”
His comment about being grounded stung a little. He was right; her therapist would ask her what she was so afraid of. She was thirty and an adult, so why was she acting like a child who didn’t want to get in trouble?
“If anyone asks, I’m getting some fresh air,” she said. Feeling somewhat annoyed that her little brother had more guts to defy their mother than she did, Kristen strode off toward the doors.
Not one person tried to stop her.
Copyright ? 2026 by Michele Dunaway