Happy Is the Bride Read online

  At the Stoddard dude ranch, a converted barn had been transformed into what his interior-design-obsessed sister would probably call cowboy country chic. There were long informal tables where everyone could sit together under wagon-wheel light fixtures and fairy lights wrapped around all the beams. It was a refreshing change from some of the hipster weddings he’d attended in the Bay Area.

  Brady had told him that two days earlier they’d been visited by a tornado that had, luckily, not wrecked the chapel, the ranch, or disrupted the wedding preparations. People thought earthquakes were scary, but he’d rather risk the off chance of a shake than the certainty of a tornado season every year.

  Della smiled up at him as he returned from the bar with a glass of wine for her and a beer for himself.

  “Thanks, Nate.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She wore a silky dress in pink, with white trim and buttons on the bodice, and had a matching flower tucked behind her ear. She looked like one of the retro pinup girl posters his friend Ted Baker collected and used as artwork in his mechanic shop. She wasn’t that tall, which suited him fine because he was around six feet, but she obviously liked high heels, which made him very happy.

  “Food’s good,” she remarked as she dabbed at her perfect red lips with her napkin.

  “Yeah, it’s excellent.” He attacked his steak and baked potato like a starving man. “I’ve never been to a wedding where the beef was stacked right next to the vegan burgers. I guess Brady’s bride doesn’t eat meat. Seeing as he’s a rancher, it must be true love.” He drank some beer and his stomach gurgled. “The time difference is really screwing with my appetite.”

  “Mine too.” She touched the wild flowers spilling out of an old cowboy boot that served as a centerpiece. “This décor is really cute.”

  “Yeah, I kind of like it myself.” Nate took a swig of beer. “What do you do in San Jose?”

  “I work for a digital arts company, specializing in photographic imagery for the media.”

  “So basically you take pictures?”

  “Kind of, but my job is to take the image and manipulate it into something that can be used on many different digital platforms.”

  He looked at her. “Like . . . ?”

  “Like the difference between how a social media post on your laptop compares to how something might look on your cell phone. They all have different requirements if they’re going to look right.”

  “Ah, I get it now. Being in San Jose, with all those start-ups, I bet you’re busy.”

  “Yeah, sometimes too busy.” She sipped her wine. “I love being in the thick of things, but I also wish I could get away from it sometimes.”

  “There are great places to visit in the Bay Area.”

  “If you have time and money.” She sighed. “Living costs alone eat up more than half my salary, and public transport sucks.”

  Nate grinned. “You should live out in the sticks. Our town gets one bus a week coming through from Sacramento.”

  “You’re kidding.” She put down her glass. “How do you all get around?”

  “On horseback or in a truck, mostly.”

  “But what about folks who don’t have those things?”

  “There are only a handful.” He shrugged. “We take care of them. The Hayes family, who owns the hotel, keeps a list of anyone who needs a ride anywhere and someone always signs up to take them.”

  She shook her head.

  “What?”

  “There are still places like that?”

  “We just look out for one another, that’s all.”

  “And I suppose there’s no crime or anything either?”

  “I didn’t quite say that.” Nate suppressed a chuckle. “We have our fair share, just like any other place. For example, there are always people coming in trying to grow pot. That needs weeding out for sure.”

  She pulled a face. “You’re so funny.”

  “I try. Can I get you another drink or are you ready for dessert?”

  “Definitely dessert.” He helped her down off her stool. “I bet we’re the only two Californians who still eat dessert.”

  “Probably.” She glanced down at her bosom. “I can’t stand all that kale and spinach juice.”

  “Me neither.” He fake shuddered. “In Morgantown we have a bakery and coffee shop run by someone who trained in France. I stop in there at least once a day to get something sweet to eat.”

  Her gaze drifted over him. “You look pretty fit to me.”

  He patted his flat stomach. “Thanks.”

  “Must be all that horseback riding and fresh air. Why did you go to college in Texas?”

  “Three reasons. I got an athletic scholarship from UT, I had family out here, and I wanted to get as far away from my parents as possible.”

  “A typical teenager, then.”

  “Yup. Not that I ever intended to be any kind of athlete. It just helped with the fees.” Nate grinned at Brady and his fiancée, Ellie, as they strolled past them. “I spend more time in my truck these days, although I try to get out to the ranch and ride as often as I can.”

  “Your parents own a ranch?”

  “Nope, but they do live on one. My dad and younger sister work there.”

  “So your sister’s the cowgirl in the family?”

  “I think she prefers to be called a cowperson,” he said solemnly. “It’s more PC.”

  “You—”

  Her gurgle of laughter felt like a punch in the stomach, but in a good way. He couldn’t stop staring at her lips. He brought his hand to her cheek and cupped her chin.

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist it.”

  Her smile died and her eyes locked on his. For a second he hesitated, the desire to kiss her at war with his fear of rushing her. Even as he made up his mind to go for it, her gaze shifted and moved past him to the doorway. Travis Whitely had arrived with one bodyguard, which he probably thought meant he was being low-key. Della might say she wasn’t interested in the country-western star, but she sure wasn’t ignoring him either.

  He took her hand. “Do you want to meet him?”

  She looked up at him, her brown eyes huge. “You know him?”

  “He went to college with me, Brady, and some of the other guys. He didn’t look quite like that back in the day, but the girls sure loved him even then.” He tugged on her hand. “Come on; let’s get our dessert and then we’ll see if he remembers me.”

  * * *

  Just as Della finished her third and final plate of dessert, the band struck up a tune and Nate drew her into a dance. It soon became obvious both of them had been out of Texas for far too long and had forgotten how to line dance. Not that anyone seemed to mind their lack of coordination and inability to turn the right way at any given moment.

  Eventually, when he finished laughing, Nate took her hand and stepped back to the edge of the dance floor.

  “Let’s just watch and learn, shall we?” he suggested.

  Della leaned back against him, enjoying the rare sense of being protected and appreciated. She’d always been the strong one in her family—the one everyone else depended on to make things right—and nothing had changed. In fact, her mother and sister needed her more than ever right now. She just couldn’t let Wade destroy her career when her whole family counted so much on her income.

  Having been welcomed so warmly by the Cutwrights and given access to the reclusive star made her feel like a traitor; like she didn’t deserve to be standing by Nate’s side. Would he ever understand what drove her? He obviously loved his family, but would he be willing to compromise his beliefs to get what he wanted?

  “Hey, you okay?”

  She looked up into his concerned face and found a smile from somewhere.

  “I’m good, thanks. How about you?”

  As he smiled, his gray eyes narrowed and focused even more intently on her. “I’m also good. Are you ready to try dancing again?”

  Even as she hesitated, he took her in h
is arms and eased her into the slow rhythm of a country ballad.

  “We can do this. Just hang on to me.”

  The temptation to rest her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt overwhelmed her. For a few precious moments she allowed herself to forget she wasn’t as sweet and innocent as he thought she was and just enjoyed the sensation of being held like a precious object.

  “Della . . .”

  She took in the scent of his aftershave, the manly warmth of his body, and opened her eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “May I kiss you?”

  In reply, she stood on her tiptoes and lightly brushed her mouth against his, making him inhale sharply and wrap his arm tighter around her hips. He made a soft groaning sound as he lifted his head.

  “Way too nice,” Nate murmured.

  She grinned at him. “I hardly touched you.”

  “I know.”

  The song ended and he released his grip on her with obvious reluctance.

  “Maybe we can try to do better next time,” Della whispered. When was the last time she’d flirted with a man? When had she even wanted to? Nate Turner was making her break all her own rules.

  “There’ll be a next time?” He raised an eyebrow. “Now you’re just playing with me.”

  “We are sharing a bed, you know.”

  “And I promised to keep my hands to myself.”

  She patted his sleeve. “I didn’t.”

  With a laugh, he followed her off the dance floor. “You’re going to kill me, you know that?”

  “But at least you’ll die happy.” Della grabbed his hand. “Come on; let’s get some coffee.”

  * * *

  Later, as if in a daze, Della allowed herself to be brought closer and closer into Travis Whitley’s orbit. There were a few people attempting to chat with him, but Nate seemed determined to stick around until he got the chance to renew his acquaintance with his old college friend. Della surreptitiously removed her cell phone from her purse and clutched it in her hand. Maybe if she were lucky, she could get a couple of really close-up pictures of the reclusive star and be done with it.

  “Hey, are you Nate Turner?”

  “Yeah. How are you doing, Bri, I mean, um, Travis?” Nate grinned at the star.

  Della fixed a smile on her face as Nate drew her closer before reaching out to shake Travis’s hand.

  “This is Della. I think she’s a big fan of yours.”

  Della was treated to Travis’s famous panty-melting grin. “Nice to meet you, Della.” He gestured at the empty seats around him. “Would you two like to keep me company for a while?”

  Nate glanced down at Della, his eyebrows raised, and she nodded.

  “That would be awesome,” Nate answered for both of them. Travis was probably used to fans going gaga around him, so her lack of the ability to speak didn’t seem to be a problem.

  Nate’s mouth brushed her ear as he whispered, “We don’t have to stay long if you have other things you’d rather do, okay?”

  She wished she could just ask Travis if she could take his picture, but Nate’s knowing him personally somehow made that more difficult, even more crass than she’d anticipated. Maybe after a while she could use the restroom and sneak a picture on the way back.

  “What are you doing with yourself these days, Nate?”

  Travis swirled the ice in his water; the way his cheeks hollowed with every suck on his straw made him look even more angelic than usual. He’d dyed his hair blond, probably in an attempt to look different, and abandoned his trademark cowboy hat, but he was instantly recognizable to anyone who bothered to look twice. Della’s fingers itched to get that picture, but she put her phone away and accepted a glass of water from one of the bodyguards.

  “I went home to California,” Nate said. “And tried my hand as a cowboy. It didn’t suit me, so I went back to school and eventually joined the sheriff’s department.”

  Della double gulped her drink and ice water threatened to spill out of her nose. Nate was a cop? Was this how it felt to be some creep with a telephoto lens? Oh dear Lord, what was she supposed to do now?

  Travis nodded. “I can kind of see you in law enforcement. You were always something of a Dudley Do-Right.”

  “True.” Nate chuckled and then turned to her. “You okay, Della?”

  He patted her gently between the shoulder blades and she shot to her feet, spilling even more water over herself. Great, now everyone was staring at her as if she were nuts.

  “I just need to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a sec.”

  Smiling brightly at no one in particular, she made a run for the bathroom, only slowing to a more respectable pace when she was away from Nate’s piercing gaze.

  For once the restroom was empty. She took a few deep breaths, used the facilities, and then sat in front of one of the well-lit mirrors in the powder room. Part of her wanted to run all the way back to California, but Nate knew where she lived and he was a cop, so he would have no trouble finding her if he wanted to.

  “Get real, girl,” she muttered. “You’re not that hot. This isn’t a cop show.”

  And why would he bother? She was getting so ahead of herself. It wasn’t like she’d done anything illegal. Or had she? Was being a paparazzi creeper at a wedding allowed? Were there privacy laws against that in Texas? She was so out of her element. Her boss wouldn’t care either way, but she did. She hadn’t seen the wedding invitation. Would the Cutwrights have insisted on no outside photography because they knew Travis was going to be there?

  Della slowly exhaled. She’d just slightly bent the truth as to why she wanted to be at the hotel. She straightened her spine. All she had to do was play nice for a few days, not make Nate suspicious, get her pictures of Travis, and leave. But Nate was a cop, trained to notice things like her taking a million pictures of everything—especially Travis Whitley.

  She groaned and buried her face in her hands. Why did her plan feel like such a betrayal? Nate was a nice guy, but she’d just met him, and in her experience four hours of enjoying a guy’s company didn’t make a relationship. But the potential was there . . . she could sense it.

  She slowly raised her head and stared at her startled image in the mirror. Where the heck had that come from? He hadn’t come on to her in any way. In fact, he’d been totally respectful toward her—apart from that certain look in his eyes that said he knew her, got her, wanted to know more . . . and that almost kiss.

  She drew in another shaky breath. Family had to come first. They were counting on her more than ever now. She couldn’t walk away from her career and she knew Wade would make good on his threats to ruin her professional reputation if she didn’t go along with his scheme. She would get her first shots of Travis on the way back from the ladies’ room. And if she had to give up the chance to get to know Nate Turner better, so be it.

  * * *

  Nate kept a lookout for Della’s return even as he listened to Travis going on about his mansions and cars and his fulfilling life as a much-loved star. Nate couldn’t imagine a less-fulfilling life if he tried, but then, Travis probably thought Nate was the most boring man in the world—living in his hometown, earning a pittance, and working odd shifts. They were like two different species.

  “You should bring Della and come visit,” Travis concluded in his soft drawl.

  “That’s really kind of you,” Nate replied. “Where are you based now?”

  “Nashville.”

  “Makes sense.” Nate saw a flash of pink as Della emerged from the restroom. He tried to catch her eye. “I’ve never been there myself.”

  To his relief, she came right over to him and, with an apologetic smile, sat down. He immediately reached for her hand.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Just a bit of water damage to repair. I think I wedged an ice cube up my nose.” Her smile was a little too bright for his liking, but that might just be because she’d been embarrassed.

  “Travis was suggesting we come
visit him in Nashville.”

  She looked startled. “At his home?”

  Nate grinned. “Yeah. I’ve never been to Nashville before, have you?”

  “Yes,” Della answered. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It sure is,” Travis confirmed. “If you’ve never visited, Nate, there’s even more reason to come.” Travis’s confident smile slipped a little. “I have an estate out there that’s well-guarded and relatively fan proof.”

  “Relatively?” The cop in Nate had to ask the question.

  Travis grimaced. “You’d be amazed at the lengths some people will go to just to see little ol’ me.”

  “I bet that’s quite scary.” Della’s brown eyes were full of sympathy.

  “Yeah. Nothing like waking up in the morning and finding some strange woman sitting on the side of your bed watching you sleep.”

  Della shivered, and Nate put a protective arm around her. “Maybe you need better security.”

  “As I said, I’ve already got the best, and we’ve added twenty-four-hour cameras.” Travis sighed. “It’s all part of being famous these days. You can’t do anything without being spied on, commented about, or criticized. Which is why it’s so nice to be here with family and no press.” He forced a smile. “But, hey, it’s still a great life and I wouldn’t change it for the world. What do you do, Della?”

  She fidgeted with her purse. “I work in digital media at the Cassidy Corporation.”

  “Interesting.” Travis looked at Nate. “Beautiful and smart. You’re a lucky man.”

  “Tell me about it,” Nate murmured, kissing the top of Della’s head. “She’s a keeper.”

  Travis grinned, making him look more like the boy Nate had known at college. “Let me know when you tie the knot and I’ll come and sing at your wedding. For free.”

  Nate winked at him. “I’ll hold you to that.” He glanced around and realized there were several other people hovering around, hoping for the chance to speak with the star. “We’d better give you some space. Great to see you again, Travis, and congratulations on your success.”

  Della rose with him and smiled at Travis. “It was a pleasure.”