Page 2 of A Wilder Wedding

Not that I was thinking about Amos.

It was better not to think about him. When I had first seen him, I’d swooned.

Yes, I’d swooned.

That big bushy beard and those dark eyes and slanted eyebrows that always made him look angry. I loved them. He was all wide and full of muscle. He could lift like nobody’s business, and put some of the Wilders to shame in the muscle department. And when he pushed up his sleeves to his elbows, showing off those forearms? I nearly fanned myself just thinking about it. A girl could weep.

Of course, now I was thinking about Amos while I was checking in our new guests and showing them around the lobby before I led them to their rooms. That was probably bad for business.

Plus, it wasn’t great for my heart.

After all, Amos had no idea I had a crush on him. And he didn’t need to know—ever.

Not only was he older than me, he also didn’t like to smile, didn’t talk much, and didn’t like people. That’s why his job at the winery included taking care of the barrels, the machines, and the wine, not dealing with customers.

My job was only dealing with customers. I organized everything on the backend along with Eli and the rest of the Wilders, but I was the first person guests saw when they checked into the inn. Our valet and team out front would welcome them, but half of the time I would meet them out there, welcoming them from their cars.

I loved people, I loved weddings, and I loved the thrill of doing a good job and making sure people were happy.

And Amos liked hiding away and growling at people if they came too near.

I had no idea why I found that sexy. There was something wrong with me.

I got the Stathams settled in their room, and then went back to my to-do list, enjoying the music coming out of the renovated barn. While we called it a barn, it was nothing so rustic. It had once been a working barn, but now it was an elegant ballroom that many weddings and events were held in. Tomorrow it would be all decked out for the wedding. I leaned against the doorway and smiled over at the people laughing and dancing, and one day knew that would be me. Because I believed in happy ever afters. I had to.

It’s what I was surrounded by, after all.

And as if my past decided to kick me in the ass, my phone buzzed.

I always had it on me in case of an emergency or if anyone needed me around the inn, so I looked at the readout and swallowed hard.

I didn’t want to answer but I didn’t have a choice. “Hi, Dennis. How are you doing?”

“You need to come home. Dad needs you. I can’t believe that you’re spending so much time away when he needs you.”

I swallowed the guilt that always came up when I heard my brother’s voice. But I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to say.

“I live three hours away, Dennis. You, Donald, and Dustin all live closer. In the same town. What does Dad need?”

“He just needs help around the house. And that’s not our work, that’s women’s work. You know that. You know you should be home and making sure Dad is safe. It’s not like you’re out there taking care of a family. You’re just working for someone else and leaving your dad in the cold. Just like you always do. So fucking selfish.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, which always happened when I heard from my family.

I was just so tired of not being valued. Of not being seen.

I was the youngest, the only girl, and when Mom died giving birth to me, I became the reason my dad was alone. Something he drunkenly told me enough that I should be used to it.

I was supposed to be the one who stayed home and made sure my dad was sober enough to go to work. To clean up after him. To cook for him. And do the same for my brothers, until they all got married. Somehow my three brothers had found women who could stand them. They all stayed home and cleaned and cooked and were never valued. That was what their husbands wanted, so that’s what they did.

And I hated every minute of it. But it wasn’t like I could say anything about it. Not again.

I just wanted to be loved. To be valued. To be worth something.

And they had never done that.

“You know that’s not happening. Dad has a job. He has two hands. He can clean up after himself. He’s an adult.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

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