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  “Always the groomsman and never the groom?” Without thinking about how it sounded, she teased him, regretting the words right after they passed her lips.

  “I was Tommy’s best man, but that premise still works, I guess.” He came to stand beside her in the mirror. “Maybe I’ll get married someday. Maybe I’ll see it as something I’m capable of doing.”

  The sinking feeling in her heart turned darker, lonelier. “I think you’d make a great husband someday.” For someone else, she thought. Not for her.

  He turned toward her. “I know I shouldn’t be starting a conversation like this when we’re so close to heading out the door. But I have feelings for you that scare me. You’ve really done a number on me, Mary.”

  She’d done a number on both of them. “What I feel for you scares me, too.”

  “You’ve been uncertain around me ever since the day we met.” He touched a strand of her unbound hair. “But I’m glad you came on this trip with me. I’m happy you’re here.”

  He didn’t look happy. He looked like a man who was on the verge of falling in love. Did he know that was why he was scared? Or hadn’t he realized it yet? She certainly knew that she loved him, for whatever that was worth.

  “We better go before we’re late.” She still had to deal with the anguish of meeting his father.

  “Yeah, we’d better.” He stepped back. “But after we come back here tonight, I’m going to put my hands all over you.”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” She wanted to make love with him, as many times as she could.

  Before it all came to an end.

  * * *

  The rehearsal dinner was in the dining room at the lodge, with knotty pine walls, limestone floors and big, bright chandeliers. Mary sat with the Talbots at their linen-draped table. Somehow, Kirby ended up next to her, with Brandon on her other side. Was the seating arrangement a joke from the universe? A punishment? She’d expected to meet Kirby, but she hadn’t expected to be sandwiched between him and Brandon.

  Mary could barely eat. She picked at her pasta, moving it around on her plate.

  No doubt about it, Kirby was a charming man. He smiled; he made lighthearted jokes; he spoke with pride about his children and raved about his new granddaughter. He also bragged about Chance and how the boy had been named after one of his songs.

  As overwhelming as this was, she could see where her mother had found him appealing. There was no denying his star power. Every time he looked at Mary, his eyes sparkled. He even patted her hand a few times. Clearly, he sensed her shyness and was trying to make her comfortable. He was being ridiculously nice. Painfully nice. And it made her want to scream, to yell, to shout at him, to defend her mother. But she kept quiet, the lump in her throat getting bigger with each breath she took.

  Brandon’s mother was kind and friendly, too. And beautiful. Mary had never seen a more gorgeous woman, with her long lean figure and silky blond hair. Everyone was treating Mary with care, doing their best to help her fit in. She’d already met Tommy and Sophie, so being around them helped a little.

  But still, no one knew why she was so nervous. No one knew the truth. When people began to mingle, visiting guests at other tables, Brandon was called away for a quick meeting with the other groomsmen. He promised that he would be right back.

  For Mary, being alone with his father was torture. The worst thing she could’ve imagined.

  He leaned over and said to her, “My son is really smitten with you. You’re the first woman I’ve ever seen him care so much about.”

  “I care about him, too.” Her voice quavered. “Brandon is a good person.”

  “He’s a lot better than I am. My family has put up with a lot of terrible things from me.”

  “I read something about that in your biography.” It was the only response she could think to say.

  “Well, then you know of what I speak.” He sipped his ginger ale. “I’m lucky that Matt allowed me back into his life, let alone let me be part of his wedding.”

  Mary glanced at the groom, who stood at the bar, chatting with the bride’s family. Tomorrow Matt would be exchanging vows with the love of his life. “He and Libby make a beautiful couple.” She’d seen how tenderly they’d interacted with each other over dinner. “Libby is a doll.” A bright and shimmering girl, Mary thought, who seemed as happy and content as a bride should be.

  Kirby nodded. “Yes, she most certainly is. Without Libby, I don’t think Matt would have ever forgiven me. She influenced him to make amends with me.”

  If Mary stayed with Brandon could they influence each other to make things right? Could he forgive her for deceiving him, and could she stop hating Kirby for what he’d done to her mother?

  With that thought spiraling in her head, she stared at Brandon’s father. Could she make things work with Brandon or was she dreaming of a fantasy that could never be?

  “You seem sort of familiar,” Kirby said suddenly.

  Her heart nearly blasted its way out of her chest. “I don’t know what you mean.” Did he sense a likeness between her and her mother? That would seem odd. Mary didn’t resemble Mama.

  “It’s just something about you. Maybe it’s your girl-next-door quality. Matt’s mother was like that when I met her.” He gestured to his former mistress, a lovely fiftysomething brunette who sat at another table with her husband. “I made a mess out of her life, keeping her on the string the way I did. But she’s happy now with someone else.”

  Mary relaxed a little. He was comparing her to Matt’s mother, not her own. Then again, he’d branded Mama a stalker, so likening Mary to her wouldn’t make much sense.

  Kirby smiled at her. “You’re easy to talk to. But that’s obvious, I guess, with me doing most of the talking.”

  “I don’t mind.” It was easier for her to stay quiet.

  “I hope you and Brandon can make a go of things. It would be nice to keep seeing you at other family gatherings.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, fretful about surviving this gathering, let alone more of them. She was actually starting to like Kirby, to view him as something other than a monster.

  She could only imagine how upset Alice would be if she knew that Mary was bonding with Brandon’s father.

  She said, “You seem nicer than I assumed you’d be.”

  “Because of my arrogant reputation? As much as I hate to say it, I still have my pompous-ass moments.” He lowered his voice. “But I’m genuinely sorry for the pain I caused the people in my life.”

  Would he admit fault for what he’d done to Mama? Would he take responsibility for it? Would he say he was sorry? Or would he insist that she was the stalker he’d made her out to be?

  Mary was so confused she could barely see straight. Brandon returned to the table and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. She loved him so much she ached from it.

  Kirby said to his son, “I like your lady. She’s sweet.”

  “I told you that she was,” Brandon replied with a smile.

  His father smiled, too, and got up to excuse himself. “I think I’ll go hunt down my new grandbaby. As far as I know, the nanny hasn’t put her to bed yet. Have you seen how excited Chance is about her? They’re going to make great cousins.” He tipped his hat to Mary. “You be good to my boy, okay?”

  “I will,” she said, even if that ship had sailed. How could she promise to be good to Brandon when she was lying about who she was?

  He kissed her again, this time on the lips, and she closed her eyes, lost in the sensation of him.

  * * *

  Later that night, Mary and Brandon made love with vigor and passion. She couldn’t get enough of him, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of her, either. His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, playing across her body and creating powerful ripples. Like waves, she thought. Like the sea at midnight, rising up in
a storm.

  Their mouths came together, tongues mating, teeth clashing. He growled in her ear, and she used her nails like weapons, digging into his skin.

  She turned toward the window, where a three-quarter moon shone through the trees, casting a shadowy glow on their cabin.

  She loved being here with him, deep in the Texas Hill Country. Even as painful as it was to be around his family, she felt as if she belonged with Brandon.

  It was a false sense of belonging, she reminded herself.

  They rolled across the bed, twisting the top sheet and knocking soft, fluffy pillows onto the rugged hardwood floor. Their clothes were strewn on the floor, too, just where they’d left them. She could see her bra and panties, her dress, her boots, one of which had fallen on its side, its heel upended. Her heart was falling, too, spiraling down a rabbit hole and spinning out of control.

  As her thoughts scattered, Brandon pushed deeper, moving inside her like a madman.

  Soon, they switched positions so she could straddle him. She bounced up and down, holding on to his shoulders for support.

  But she couldn’t steady her feelings. She couldn’t stop loving him. It was too late for that.

  He watched her with a hot gleam in his eyes, hungry for her to take him all the way, to make him come.

  She leaned forward to kiss him, but it was a biting kiss, rife with sexual chaos and friction. When she removed her mouth from his, she increased the tempo, giving them both the orgasm that they wanted, needed, had to have.

  They climaxed together—all the way.

  In the seconds that followed, she collapsed on top of him, and he skimmed a gentle hand down her spine.

  “It just gets better and better with you,” he said.

  He meant the sex, obviously. She caught her breath and replied, “You’re all I want. You’re all I think about.”

  “Likewise.” He met her gaze. “Shower with me?”

  It was an invitation she couldn’t refuse. She wanted to get wet and soapy with him. “Definitely.”

  They went into the bathroom, and he disposed of the condom. The tub doubled as a shower, but it was smaller than the other shower stalls they’d used at Brandon’s homes. Mary didn’t mind. She liked being ridiculously close to him.

  They washed the sex off their bodies, but it didn’t leave their thoughts. They were still looking at each other with satisfaction in their eyes.

  Afterward, they dried off and returned to bed, naked and clean. By now, they’d righted the bed, smoothing the sheets and replacing the pillows they’d knocked onto the floor.

  As they lay side by side, gazing up at the ceiling, he said, “You made a wonderful impression on my family. They all really like you.”

  She did her best to seem calm, even if her pulse had begun to skitter. “I like them, too.”

  “Even my dad?”

  The skittering continued. “Yes. He was very kind and complimentary to me.”

  “So the stuff that was in his book doesn’t bother you anymore?”

  “No.” But what he’d done to her mother still did. She turned to face Brandon. She couldn’t stand lying to him anymore. God help her, but she was going to tell him the truth, every last painful detail. Only now wasn’t the time to do it. She would wait until the wedding was over and they were back in Nashville. She would tell him that she loved him then, too. She would spill all her secrets.

  She had no idea where the truth would lead. But at least her conscience would be clear. And maybe, just maybe, they could make their relationship work.

  He skimmed her cheek with his fingers. “You never cease to baffle me, Mary. You and your mysterious ways.”

  The confusion would be over soon, she thought. Once she told him the truth, he would know everything about her.

  As ashamed as she was about what she’d done to Brandon, she hoped and prayed that he would consider the pain his dad had cast upon her family. That alone should absolve her.

  Shouldn’t it?

  Needing to hide her expression, to shield her emotions, she moved into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder.

  He touched her still-damp hair and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Her response was muffled against his skin. “I just want to be close to you.”

  “Are you certain that’s all it is?”

  “Yes.” She had no choice but to lie. Her final lie, she thought, the last of the tall tales.

  “That’s okay. I don’t mind keeping you close.” He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.”

  “Thank you.” Although sleep would probably elude her, she closed her eyes, letting Brandon be her hero. Her dream lover, she thought, wrapped up in the stars and the moon and the secrets that still shrouded them.

  Eleven

  The wedding was sweetly romantic, Brandon thought. Beautiful in a way that he’d never experienced before. Matt and Libby had a history with National S’mores Day, and that’s the day they’d chosen to get married.

  The happy couple exchanged vows at dusk, surrounded by trees and hills and people they loved. Libby made a stunning bride, draped in a long shimmery dress, her white-blond hair adorned with flowers. Matt stood tall and strong, attired in a black tuxedo and Western hat.

  Security was tight. There was no press on the premises. The family had done an excellent job of keeping it private.

  As Brandon watched the ceremony, he glanced over at Mary. She seemed mesmerized by it all. She still baffled him, of course. Nothing had changed in that regard. He still considered his lover a mystery. But now he was wondering how it would be to spend the rest of his life with her, to fall madly in love, to get married.

  Maybe he was already in love with her. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be having those sorts of thoughts. But it wasn’t a calm feeling. He was even more scared of his feelings for her than he’d been before.

  Suddenly Brandon was anxious for Matt and Libby’s vows to end and for the reception to begin. He needed to escape this setting and have a quick, stiff drink.

  Finally, Brandon got his wish. The reception offered an open bar. He ordered his whiskey neat and downed the amber liquid in a few anxious gulps. Normally Brandon was more controlled. In fact, he never resorted to alcohol to relax his nerves. That just wasn’t his style. But it wasn’t every day a man found himself falling in love with a woman he barely knew.

  He considered a second drink, but decided against it. He would be better off trying to keep a clear head, to remain true to his normally controlled nature.

  “Are you okay?” Mary asked him, as she sipped champagne. “You seem distracted.”

  “I’m fine,” he replied. “I’m hungry, though. Are you?”

  “Yes.” She smiled at him.

  But even in the midst of her smile, he noticed a haunted look in her eyes. Was she still thinking of leaving him? When they returned from Texas, would she disappear into a soft gray mist?

  They headed for the buffet, where a feast of down-home cooking and uptown delicacies made a marvelous presentation.

  Brandon and Mary filled their plates and socialized with other guests. As the celebration continued, the house band played cover tunes. Dad and Tommy sat in with them for a number of songs, making it a star-studded event. Needless to say, the music was spectacular.

  “At least I don’t have to worry about not knowing how to waltz tonight,” Mary said.

  Brandon nodded. It was country dancing, through and through. “Do you want to take a spin?”

  “Yes, please.” Her gaze met his. “It’ll be our first time dancing together.”

  He reached for her hand. “Yes, indeed.” There were lots of firsts zipping through his mind: the first day they’d met, their first date, their first kiss. She’d bewitched him from the beginning, and she was
still doing it.

  The music was fast and fun. Brandon had grown up on country songs. He knew them inside out.

  He spun Mary around, and she two-stepped with the best of them. She was wearing the same boots she’d worn to last night’s rehearsal dinner, only now they were getting some miles on them.

  After a while, the band switched gears, slowing the music down. They played a variety of emotional ballads, packed with romance.

  Brandon held Mary close, and they swayed rhythmically to the dreamy riffs. He couldn’t deny how compatible they were, locked in each other’s arms. Their bodies just seemed to fit, motion to motion, breath to breath, similar to when they made love.

  “It’s nice that we’re going to have two more days here,” she said. “I’ve never imagined being on a vacation like this before.”

  He’d been on lots of holidays, all over the world. But this was the most compelling—the scariest, too, with how deep and shaky his notion about loving her was.

  She nestled closer to him. “I’m excited about going horseback riding tomorrow. And hiking and fishing the day after that.”

  He was glad that she was having a good time. But it was almost as if she was trying too hard to make this trip memorable. He even got the feeling that she was trying to convince herself that everything was going to be all right.

  Whatever “everything” was, he thought. Mary’s past wasn’t any clearer today than it had been two months ago. And Brandon didn’t know if he could take much more of being left in the dark.

  He wanted answers. He wanted to know exactly who Mary McKenzie was and why she refused to talk about her parents. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make heads or tails of her life. He could look forever and still not see past the clouds in her eyes.

  After they stopped dancing, they separated, with Mary wandering over to the bar to try the s’mores martinis that were being handed out.

  Brandon took the opportunity to approach Tommy, who was also alone for now.

  He said to his brother, “I’m going to do it.”