Page 24 of Any Cowboy of Mine
It was funny, he knew Julia inside and out, but for the life of him, watching her frown in her wedding gown on what should be her happiest day, he couldn’t see why he’d stayed with her as long as he had. He’d only known Sophie as a peripheral friend, not counting the past few hours, but he had more in common with her, more of a connection to her, than he ever had with Julia.
Their earlier attraction at the bar grew with each song at the reception, with some props to be given to the DJ who played songs that seemed made for him and Sophie. Well, now that he thought of it, they were classic love songs—also perfect for a wedding. He didn’t even feel a faint sense of alarm that he was relating to the lyrics of love songs on his first date with this woman. Nope, he was just living in the moment for the first time in what seemed like far too long.
Damn, it felt good, too.
Sophie danced with him for each song, slowly rocking against him, whispering the lyrics in his ear. She shared what she wanted to do with her law degree, how much she despised cooking. She never brought up her family again, and he didn’t push it. They’d have time to get into it. That hope—that he and Sophie had time after that night—sent heat curling down his spine, coming to rest in his groin, which he hoped didn’t show as he pressed against a woman who lit all his senses on fire.
On the fast songs, especially after they’d had a few lemon drop martinis, she let him lead her, and he didn’t regret a moment of it. He’d never been as turned on as he was trying to keep his hips aligned with Sophie’s. They seemed to move to their own music, making all his attempts to mirror her movements futile. Not that he cared.
God, he wished he’d known enough to be aware of her in college—something told him she would have been a helluva good time at a party, not to mention in the bedroom. It wasn’t too late, though. This thought had his mind spiraling to what those hips would be capable of now.
Interrupting those thoughts, Brad saw his sister heading toward them out of the corner of his eye, Owen in tow. With her pixie-cut brunette hair, bright, brown eyes, and short, five-foot even stature poured into a tiny pink dress that barely came to her upper thighs, she looked more like a fairy than a wedding guest.
Each time he saw his sister and her husband though, he was reminded that there was the potential for a happily ever after out there for everyone. Paige was the wildest person he knew, and so many times in his childhood he’d wondered if she was adopted, she was so unlike him or his parents. Not just in looks or stature, either.
She snuck out to party or camp solo on a cliffside, while Brad stayed in, writing stories about small, petty thefts and the police who solved them. She ditched school to explore small, local caves, while Brad enrolled in honors English classes, anxious to learn from the likes of Byron, or Irving. She’d sprinted from the country the minute she’d graduated college, choosing Oxford Medical School while Brad had gone to the University of Montana because it was close to home. But now she was one of the best pediatricians in the country, often invited to give talks at universities around the world.
He gave all the credit to Owen who’d somehow convinced Paige that setting down roots didn’t mean settling. They traveled every winter for a month or two to keep Paige’s desire for adventure sated, but when they were home, Brad could sense her ease in both her domestic and professional life, and he could have hugged Owen. He’d even said something of the sort as one of the “maids of honor” at their wedding two years earlier, a role he’d shared with Paige’s best friend, Aurelie. His only wish was that Paige and Owen could start a family. He knew the shadows behind his sister’s eyes when she saw babies in her office, sick and in need of more care than she could provide at times, meant that she wanted to take all of them home, love them with everything she had. She and Owen would be wonderful parents, Brad was certain, if only her accident from a year and a half ago didn’t all but prohibit that from happening.
“Hi, there, brother. Mom’s over there fuming about you, so I had to come see why.”
Paige’s mouth turned up in a crooked smile, her eyes wide, and her arms at her hips. She looked like someone who was very much enjoying herself. Which inevitably meant trouble for him.
“Jesus. Of course she is. Paige, this is Sophie. Sophie, my sister Paige. Hey, where’s Aury?” The two women shook hands, and Paige eyed up Sophie from head to toe, nodding appreciatively.
“She’s at home getting the play-by-play via text. She didn’t know Julie that well, and since the one time they met Aury wasted no time telling Julie you were hot, there wasn’t a chance those two were ending up friends. One more reason to love Aury.”
Brad had to laugh at that. Paige’s best friend was as much a pistol as Paige herself was. “How you doing, Owen?” he asked Paige’s husband. Owen nodded and shrugged his shoulders, held up his beer.
“Okay. Tired, but the open bar is helping,” Owen said, holding up a Bud Light. Owen was so low key, Brad sometimes wondered how he and Paige managed to coexist under the same roof. His sister must exhaust Owen. “That was a show, wasn’t it?”
Brad chuckled, his arm tightening around Sophie’s waist.
“Understatement, my brother. But then again, not everyone can have what you and my little sister have,” Brad said. Owen nodded, gazing down at Paige in a way that said there wouldn’t be a day he didn’t love her with all the ferocity he was capable of. It warmed Brad’s heart, but at the same time his chest constricted with desire, wanting the same love in his life. He’d never come close to that with Julia, that much was obvious to even the most latent observer, but still, all that time wasted…
“So, you did bring a date to Julia’s wedding after all, huh?” Paige needled him. “I didn’t think you had it in you, big brother. I’m proud of you, but Mom’s ready to read you your rights.” She giggled. “I was gonna drag this guy home for some fun of our own, but now I just might stick around and see what happens,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
“I didn’t bring a date. I brought Steve, and Sophie brought a friend, Jackie, and as you can see, we got stood up. It’s as simple as that. You saw us at the bar, remember?” Brad said. Even he heard the uneasy defiance in his voice, though. Especially because, to him, this was becoming more and more a date by the minute.
“Yeah, well, did you two kiss?”
Brad looked at Sophie, whose cheeks had turned the same shade of red as her lipstick. Both of them looked down, sheepish half-smiles on their faces. How the hell had that news gotten around so fast? They’d sat in the back row for crying out loud. He had to hand it to the Banberry Telegraph—the gossipy old ladies like Connie from the salon in town who shared gossip as easily as some shared the weather—they were consistent and expedient.
“So, what?” Brad tried again to ignore the petulant child’s voice he’d somehow adopted. What did he care if everyone knew he’d kissed Sophie? It was the high point in his evening—hell, his year. He actually hoped there would be more of it soon.
“So, you brought a date,” Paige declared, her arms crossed over her chest. “And Mom’s going to have your hide. I just wanted to be a hundred percent sure before I asked Owen to take me home that I wouldn’t miss the fireworks.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Owen chimed in, winking at Brad. Brad scowled, tossed his brother-in-law the middle finger.
“There won’t be any fireworks. I’ll talk to Mom tomorrow and explain everything. Just stay out of it, and go make your own waves, okay?”
“Don’t get testy, big brother. I’m just glad it’s Mr. Perfect she’s ready to strangle this time. It’s only fair to share Mom’s wrath every now and then, don’t you think?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know,” Brad said, his own half-smile playing on his face now. He’d never been on the firing end of their mother’s anger until this past year, so this was altogether new to him, unlike Paige, who always seemed to annoy their mom with her wild antics.
“Touché. Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Sophie. Let’s hang out sometime. Aury and I’ll give you all the embarrassing deets on my big brother, here,” she said, before she spun on her five-inch pink suede heels and headed to the bar. Owen gave a small salute with his beer and followed his wife, an arm protectively and not unlovingly wrapped tight around her waist.
“Well, that was interesting,” Sophie said, laughing. “I guess there’s no more laying low, huh?”
