Page 50 of Parading the Cowboy Billionaire (Bluegrass Ranch 4)

Lawrence stood in line, the fifth brother instead of the sixth. Blaine stood next to the altar, which was an elongated saddle attached to a rough-hewn log with all the natural bark still on it. Tam had made it herself, and it was a gorgeous dark leather carved with flowers, little birds, and her and Blaine’s names.

A large C sat in the middle on top of it, and while Lawrence couldn’t see it from here, he’d already admired the custom altar, marveling at the way Tam’s mind worked. The fact that she could pull her thoughts out through her fingers and into leather astounded him, and he found himself praying for a woman like her to walk into his life.

“Welcome,” Mom said, and Lawrence shook his lonely thoughts out of his head. He’d been busier than ever around the ranch in the past couple of months, and he didn’t have time for dating anyway. Blaine and Spur were some of the busiest Chappell brothers, and they’d still managed to find time to fall in love and start families.

Lawrence’s thoughts moved to Mariah Barker and the idiotic thing he’d said to her months ago.I could be your boyfriend so you can go to the party.

He’d never brought it up again. She hadn’t either. They’d kept their relationship strictly professional, and every time he spoke to her, she was perfectly composed and knowledgeable about everything going on in preparation for the big race.

Tam didn’t have many girlfriends, so she only had her sisters for bridesmaids, along with three cowgirls that she’d gotten close to over the years as she made saddles for them. Combined, there were only five women, and seven brothers.

Olli had her arm hooked through Spur’s, and they stood at the front of the line, of course. Trey had his wife Beth on his arm, and that left a bridesmaid for everyone else.

He watched as Tam’s sister Cara approached Cayden, and the perfectly pleasant smile on his brother’s face. Cayden should have Ginny Winters on his arm, but he’d said nothing to Blaine or Tam—or anyone else—about the situation.

Ginny had come to the wedding; Lawrence had seen her standing with Olli twenty minutes ago.

“You must be Lawrence,” a woman said, and he turned toward her. She wore a pale pink dress, and he had the distinct impression that she rarely wore anything but rough cotton blouses and jeans.

“Yes,” he said, smiling at her. “Pauline?”

“Yes, sir.” She linked her arm through his, and Lawrence shook off his disappointment that there had been absolutely no spark. She was a pretty woman, he supposed. Her tight, curly hair wasn’t his favorite, and she was a bit shorter than he’d like. She’d be perfect for someone, as Lawrence believed there was someone for everyone.

He wanted to meet his someone.

The music started, and he drew in a breath. “Ready?” he murmured to Pauline.

“Sure thing,” she drawled, and she didn’t seem to have any nerves whatsoever.

The line moved in front of him, and when it was his turn to step, he did. One foot in front of the other, then both feet together again. They’d practiced the spacing for forty minutes last night, and Lawrence was determined not to be the one who messed it up.

Only Ian remained in front of him, and Lawrence started looking out over the crowd. They’d all gotten to their feet and were watching every couple as they stepped down the aisle. Lawrence began to sweat, despite the shade under the tent and the breeze that kept everything cool.

He really didn’t like being in the spotlight like this, and he hoped that when it was his turn to get married, he could convince his girlfriend to elope.

Ian moved, and Lawrence took his spot. He had several seconds to survey the crowd before he moved, and as he did, he saw a woman who definitely made his blood run hotter in his veins.

Mariah Barker.

His eyes hooked onto hers, and he lifted his eyebrows when she looked back at him. What in the world was she doing here?

She stood in front of an older gentleman—her father, obviously—and Lawrence started connecting dots in his head. Her daddy must be friends with Tam’s—

“Go,” Conrad hissed from behind him. “You’re late, Larry.Go.”

Lawrence blinked; his heartbeat accelerated; he took one giant step forward, dragging his partner with him. She couldn’t take that big of a stride in her dress, and she stumbled. Horror moved through Lawrence as he tried to steady her and himself at the same time.

He was still behind, too, and he whispered, “Sorry. Another big step.”

Pauline’s grip on his arm intensified as he got them caught up in two steps, and the harsh glare on the side of his face didn’t ease his discomfort.

He should just look straight forward and get down the aisle and out of the limelight. Instead, he locked his gaze back onto Mariah, who wore a beautiful smile now, miming a few beats of applause as he passed her.

Warmth and pride filled his chest, and he hoped to all of heaven that she found him as attractive as he found her. She wore a pretty green and purple flowered dress, perfect for a springtime wedding in Kentucky.

He wanted to dance with her and eat dinner beside her. He wanted to hold her hand and steal her away from the wedding once darkness fell. His fantasies got out of control, and he told himself to focus—at least until he delivered Pauline where she needed to go and he took his place behind the altar between Ian and Conrad.

Once there, he had a good view of Mariah again, and he couldn’t help lifting his hand to the brim of his hat and grinning at her.

---