Page 19 of Any Cowboy of Mine
His parents waved at him, and though he registered a concerned look on his mom’s face when she laid eyes on Sophie, who was tucked back into his arm, his dad gave him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up.
Okay.This wedding wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought, despite the phone in his back pocket whose weight reminded him of Julia’s text, still unanswered. Even that wasn’t enough to dampen his spirits, though.
At this point he was downright looking forward to the night ahead of him.
CHAPTER SIX
The Kiss
The air waspregnant with anticipation. Sophie didn’t need to look at the rows of guests to know all eyes were on her. There must have been two hundred people in the hall, but she tried not to meet anyone’s gaze. She hadn’t even considered that walking into the wedding with the guy who should have been the groom would summon more than a few whispers and stares. Not to mention that the tidbits she’d just overheard meant Brad had played down his success. From what Sophie could gather, he’d just sold the first three books in his series to Hollywood for a sum that would mean he wouldn’t ever have to work again if he didn’t want to.
Now she was nervous.
Is it too late to run for the door?As soon as the thought formed, though, Brad squeezed her arm. She gazed up at him, marveling at how much taller than her he was. When he winked down at her, a comforting smile on his face, she exhaled. This would be okay. It wasn’t like she kept in touch with any of his college friends, though when she peeked to her left, she did recognize a few faces that hadn’t aged nearly as well as Brad. Oh, well. If she didn’t want to, she wouldn’t have to see any of them again after tonight.
As the usher led Brad up the aisle, Sophie wished she’d been attracted to anyone else back at the bar, that the crush she’d harbored since college had dissipated by now, but no such luck. As soon as he and Steve—who she didn’t recognize at all—had walked in, she’d been the nineteen-year-old with a crush all over again.
Even now, her arm linked back with his, butterflies whipped around in her stomach, making her uneasy, but not at all the way she’d felt with Drew. This was calmer in the sense that she was certain she could be one hundred percent herself around him. He just made every cell of hers writhe with nerves every time he touched her, like in the bar when his friend had pushed Brad into her arms. Her skin had burned, and her mouth had gone dry. She’d never downed a beer so fast. God, was he ever still attractive.
So much for the beer gut and balding.
And all of that was before she discovered he was a successful mainstream writer in the genre she loved. Truthfully, though, if he’d told her he was a garbage collector, she’d still have been attracted to him. There was something in the way he spoke, as if he saw who she was and liked her for all of it. The feeling was entirely new to Sophie, and she didn’t have a clue how to control her body—or shut down the impulse to jump the guy.
The usher gestured to the two open seats next to whom she assumed were Brad’s parents. Brad let Sophie go in first, meaning she was knee-to-knee with Brad’s mom, a tall, graceful woman who resembled a younger Vanessa Redgrave. She was stunning, and her regal posture triggered Sophie to recall what dating Drew had been like.Sit up straight, don’t slouch, cross your ankles—being his girlfriend had been like full-time reform school. From what she knew of Brad, though, his mom’s starched look had to be situational—there was no way she could be as rigid as Drew had been.
Brad introduced them perfunctorily, then sat next to his father, immediately engulfing him in conversation and leaving Sophie to fend for herself.
His mom held out a stiff hand, which Sophie took and vigorously shook. Her hands had been trembling since she first started talking to Brad, but she hadn’t realized until her palm made contact with Brad’s mom’s how sweaty she was. Damn her body again. She registered the look, first of surprise, then fading into what appeared to be mild annoyance, on his mom’s face.
“I’m Sophie,” she said, trying to fix what was clearly shaping up to be a crummy first impression. “Brad and I have known each other for over a decade.” She wiped her mutinous, damp palm on her dress as slyly as she could manage. Maybe the knowledge that Sophie had known Brad before tonight would go over better with his mom.
“Before or after Julia?” his mom asked flatly. Her sharp gaze traveled up and down Sophie’s outfit, her eyebrows arched, and her lips pursed.
This is awkward.More so as Brad leaned behind her, his arm around her shoulder, pushing her closer to his mom as his thumb rubbed her shoulder blade. Sophie didn’t miss the shadow that crossed over his mom’s face when she caught the gesture. Brad told his dad about Steve and why his “date” had stood him up. His dad laughed, a loud chuckle that filled the room. The people in the row in front of them turned, eyes narrowed, some of their heads shaking.
Geez. They weren’t at a funeral.
Where is Jackie?Sophie could use a save right about now.
“During, actually.” She was determined not to freeze under the ice flaking off this woman. “I actually lived with Julia freshman year of college. Brad and I were just friends,” Sophie asserted, knowing it sounded like the guilty plea of a woman trying to dig her way out of trouble with nothing but a teaspoon. Why she was in trouble in the first place she hadn’t figured out yet.
“I’m sure you were.”
What?!It was pretty clear who Brad more closely resembled, if not in looks, then at least in personality.Screw it.She reached over Brad’s mom who still hadn’t bothered to introduce herself.
“Mr. Connors?” she asked, her hand out to shake his. “I’m Sophie.”
Brad’s dad stood up and walked in front of his wife, his mouth in a wide grin despite audible protests in the form of grunts and mumblings of this being a “dignified affair” from her. He got to Sophie and brushed off her outstretched arm.
“No way, darlin’. We hug in this family.” Sophie gasped in surprise but then relaxed into the hug, embracing him in return. Now this is what a wedding should feel like. Brad’s dad pulled back but kept his arms around her. “I’m Alan, and this,” he said, pointing behind him, “is my lovely bride, Marge.” Lovely was the last adjective Sophie would have used to describe Marge, but she wasn’t the one who’d been married to the woman for as long as Alan had.
Alan’s eyes were the same light blue as Brad’s and the same light danced in them. His rosy cheeks could only be described as jolly. In fact, with his white beard, mustache, and thick crop of hair, that was the best way to describe Alan in general—he was jolly like St. Nick.
Unlike his wife, who so far had been nothing but surly. From the corner of her eye, Sophie saw Brad’s mom turn her back to them, her arms crossed. Yep, the husband and wife were definitely as different as two people could be. It even extended to their physical features. Alan was shorter than Marge by a good four or five inches, while Marge towered close to her son’s height. Alan also was built squatter, adding to the impression of him being a living, breathing Santa Claus.
Sophie wondered how two people so different ended up together and for not the first time that month, thought of Drew and why she hadn’t heard anything from him. Just a decent severance check that had shown up a mere two days after she’d walked out on him in the restaurant. It had given her a couple months relief on worrying about having to dip into her savings. Other than that, not a word. No closure. No calls from clients. No offer to ship her personal effects that, by the way, she still hadn’t gotten from Jackie.
Her friend had eventually gone to the firm on her behalf to box up everything from her office, which, Sophie had lamented, wasn’t all that much considering she’d spent almost five years of her life there.
