Page 7 of Luck of the Draw

Daniel laughed. “That’s definitely not on any of Georgie’s lists.”

Dottie bustled off to find someone to take care of the tablecloth problem—or maybe to look for Goat Lady—and we opened the bar to the guests. We kept busy for a while, so much so the tip jar topped out, but as it got closer to the ceremony, the interest in the bar slowed to a trickle, and then the trickle dried up entirely.

“You going to watch the ceremony?” Daniel asked, popping another mint. “River said we could.”

I didn’t remember him saying anything of the sort, but hehadasked us to watch for crashers. It made sense to divide forces and send Daniel to watch the ceremony.

Dottie was officiating, so it should be interesting at any rate, but I didn’t feel up to watching it.

Plus, if someone did want to sneak in, what better time than now?

I explained the divide-and-conquer plan to Daniel, who paid suspiciously little attention to it.

He poured himself a drink, ignoring my eye roll, and then poured one for me, which I promptly set aside.

“Don’t forget to look for crashers, Daniel.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, walking off, leaving me without a strong feeling of confidence.

I straightened the bar area a little, listening to the music down below, and then took a swig of the old-fashioned. Because, hell. I kind of needed it.

Someone yelled something down below, and it was followed by an ominous-sounding crash. And then what could be an animal baying or someone crying.

Not good. I abandoned the drink and was about to go check it out, because none of this could possibly be on Georgie’s checklists, when I noticed them. Two women, a blonde and a brunette with long, silky hair, curled at the ends, sneaking around the back of the event center. They looked around, their gaze skipping past the bar, which was somewhat covered, to the currently empty reception area. They started to run around the greenhouse, presumably to wait behind it and then pop out when the party was busy and the reception started.

It was a buffet-style meal, so no one would necessarily notice there were two extra guests—until the brunette, who was certainly beautiful enough to be Victoria, charged at Lee and his girlfriend with a steak knife or annoyed everyone to death by requesting the “Macarena.” Or whatever people did when they crashed weddings.

Not on my watch.

I left the bar and barked out “Hey,” walking toward them.

I didn’t really have a strategy to get them to leave. I wasn’t going to bodily lift them, and I didn’t want to make a scene, but then again, something was clearly going down in the amphitheater. It would be best to sort this out now.

The blonde’s eyes widened, and she darted out of sight, but the brunette looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She stared at me, everything in her silent and still except for her huge brown eyes.

I took several strides toward her before I stopped too.

It was her eyes that stopped me.

Something told me this couldn’t be Victoria. Her eyes were wide and warm and lovely and currently terrified, surrounded by thick dark lashes, and her plump bottom lip was captured between her teeth. She was wearing a pink dress that revealed her every curve, and damn, did she have all the right ones. I’d always had a thing for women with curves. When we were kids, we’d spent a lot of time at our grandparents’ house, and they’d had no cable and only about twenty movies on VHS, all of them starring Sophia Loren. Needless to say, my brother and I didn’t mind one bit.

This woman’s body reminded me of her. And…crap.

I’d promised myself I wouldn’t get distracted by any of the guests, and here I was, checking out a crasher, feeling a zip of attraction shoot straight to my groin.

Something flashed in her eyes too, and I held out a hand to her as I took another step forward.

“Run,” came a shout from behind a bush, and something steeled in the brunette’s eyes. She toed off her crystal-studded stilettos and took off running across the grass, faster than an Olympic racer.

And I was so startled by the whole thing, by her and her effect on me, by the fact that there had been a crasher who wasn’t on either of the lists I’d been given, that I was left speechless, clutching a pair of sexy as hell silver shoes.

Chapter Three

Dee

“Oh, hell no,”I said, shaking my head. The rest of me had stopped shaking only a couple of minutes ago, and it had been a full twenty minutes since we’d gotten caught. Not only had I been terrified, but I was trying to understand my strange reaction to the guard who’d seen us. I’d literally just stood in place, vacillating between feeling terrified and being drawn to the waves of pure masculinity rolling off him.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a man like that in person…if ever. His shoulders were broad enough to fill a doorway, his arms thick with muscle, the hint of a tattoo dipping beneath his black button-down shirt. His hair, almost black, was thick and wavy, and it had been a while since his last cut. And those eyes. They were the color of whiskey, and they’d looked at me with…I thought it was lust, but it had been a long time since anyone had wanted me, and I couldn’t be sure. Of course, I hadn’t told Sam any of that. Lord only knew what she’d do with that information.

---