Page 1 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

Chapter One

The last place on the planet Graham Sullivan wanted to be on a sultry June evening was in the courtyard of his aunt and uncle’s lavish home in Hinsdale with ten guys he barely knew.

Well, he did know his cousin Paul. Not that they’d ever been close, and the fact that Paul had effortlessly nabbed the girl Graham had a crush on back in college hadn’t helped. Not that Paul had been aware. Cadence probably hadn’t, either.

Why was Graham such a misfit? He didn’t mesh much better with his cousins on his dad’s side, but at least he’d found a place as an accountant in Grandfather Sullivan’s expansive corporation.

Numbers didn’t lie. Not like people did.

“Don’t you think, Gray?”

His cousin’s voice broke into Graham’s dismal thoughts. Man, he hated being called Gray. That was his eye color, not his name. “Think what?”

Several of the guys laughed. How much booze had been imbibed around him? Graham wasn’t participating. Not in this bunch, for sure.

“Cadence is lucky to have me. She’d be going nowhere if I hadn’t taken pity on her.”

Pity? A red haze dimmed Graham’s vision. “You don’t love her?” Because every woman deserved to be loved, to be cherished by her groom. Especially Cadence Foster.

Graham would cherish her had he been offered half a chance. Okay, he hadn’t actually tried. She was so gorgeous, so accomplished, and he’d been — still was — an awkward introvert with few social skills, much to his mother’s dismay.

“Love?” Paul shrugged and chuckled. “That’s nothing but a bunch of sap. In our circles, it’s all about what a marriage contract can bring to the table. All about connections, man.” He snapped his fingers, or at least tried to. Several times. Apparently, it wasn’t so easy to do for a guy who’d had a few too many.

“It’s not sap.” Graham’s cousin Tate had been married only a couple of weeks ago at the ranch. Tate hadn’t known Stephanie long, but he sure hadn’t considered what his marriage to a bank-teller-turned-nanny meant to Sullivan Enterprises. The two of them were the most googly-eyed pair Graham had ever seen. Sticky sweet sap at its finest.

Paul’s best man, Darrell, cracked open another case of beer and handed cans around. Someone tossed an empty into the pool to raucous laughter. Strident music pounded so fiercely even the strings of solar lights around the patio seemed to shudder in rhythm.

Graham shook his head to clear it. Someone around here needed to keep his wits about him. It had been bad enough thinking of Cadence and Paul together when he thought they loved each other, but now? With Paul proclaiming their upcoming wedding to be basically a business deal?

Was Cadence aware?

Graham’s gut soured, and his hands grew clammy as he fisted them. The smog of red anger expanded. The wedding was in only three days. It was going to be a huge affair. The kind of huge that called for ten bridesmaids and ten groomsmen. Hundreds of guests. No expenses spared, because both the Fosters and the Bradleys seemed to have something to prove.

He knew events. Knew numbers. Even so, his mind boggled at the decadence lavished on a party based solely on business and not on love.

“Then don’t do it.”

Paul’s drink was halfway to his mouth when Graham’s words seemed to register. He lowered the can slowly as his eyes burned into Graham’s. “You’re right.”

Graham blinked. “I am?”

“My dad and hers have already signed the business side of the deal. I don’t have to go through with it.”

“Hear, hear!” bellowed one of the groomsmen, saluting with a beer can. Froth overflowed and sloshed down his hand.

“Par-tay!” another one yelled.

Graham should walk away now. Groomsman #10 had been present and accounted for. Like he would show up Saturday afternoon, much as it would kill him.

But Paul still stared at him. “She’s staying with her parents right now. Do you know where they live?”

Was the guy seriously going to jilt Cadence? Hope bubbled up inside Graham, but it was mingled with horror. Guys didn’t simply walk away from a wedding with three days’ notice. But then, most guys loved the girl they were going to marry. Didn’t they? Graham would. He’d adore the ground she walked on. Especially if she were Cadence Foster.

He managed to clear his throat. “If they’re still over on South Elm, yeah.”

Paul lifted his beer can as though in toast. “Go tell her it’s off.”

“You can’t do that to her.”

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