Wild with You Page 6

  Her voice trembled as if she’d left her bold, self-­assured tone in his truck. One look at her stricken expression and he felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. The seductive woman, the one who’d faced him head-­on when revealing her true reasons for traveling to Oregon, had vanished. In her place stood a person who looked as if she’d been delivered to the doorstep of a nightmare.

  “Didn’t go well, huh?” he said, trying to picture her as a grade-­school child. He barely remembered her from high school, and his mind couldn’t make the jump.

  “I brought my science fair project,” she said. “You remember those trifold boards?”

  “Yeah. My dad took us to the hardware store to pick them up around science fair time each year,” he said, unsure how the poster related to the fact that her feet were glued to the white line dividing his parking space from the empty one beside his truck.

  “My second grade teacher made sure I had one that year. My project was about the solar system. For a while I thought I wanted to be an astronaut. I presented it to every family. I wanted to show them I was smart. But . . .”

  She shrugged, forcing a smile. “No one called about me. I guess they didn’t like my hypothesis. Funny thing is, I can’t even remember what I was trying to prove.”

  “You don’t have to laugh it off,” he said.

  “It was a long time ago. I can see the humor now.”

  And he could still see the heartache.

  Brody fought the urge to wrap her in his arms and hold her tight. One glance at Kat told him a porcupine would be more receptive to a hug right now. But damn it, he wanted to offer her something. He understood childhood sorrow and despair. When his mother left, he’d wondered why she hadn’t wanted him and his siblings. But he had chalked it up to something being wrong with his mom, and he’d focused on the ­people who wanted him. His brothers. His sister. His father. He’d never had to prove he was worthy of a family. Not to them.

  At seven years old, Kat had walked into that hotel alone and believing no one wanted her, and she’d left with confirmation. Maybe he couldn’t hug her, but he had to do something.

  “We have a studio apartment over the barn,” he said. “You can’t walk to town, but you’d be close to Josh.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be fine at the hotel,” she said, stepping off the white line. “I’d forgotten all about that day until we pulled into the lot.”

  Yeah, that was a big fat lie.

  “Kat, do you have plans tonight?”

  He couldn’t stand the thought of her alone in that hotel surrounded by the memory of her seven-­year-­old self determined to prove her worth and then coming up empty.

  Kat glanced over her shoulder, pausing in the space marked for a car. “I was planning to catch up on work. And update Dr. Westbury on my first meeting with Josh.”

  “Give Dr. Westbury another day to recover from surgery,” he said. “It’s your first night back. And Eric Moore is getting married up at Willamette Valley Vineyards. He’s younger than us, but you might remember him. Georgia, Eric’s bride, reserved a spot for Josh, but he’s been clear he doesn’t want to go. You might see some familiar faces.”

  “You’re inviting me to a wedding?” Her green eyes widened. “That’s your idea of having some fun together?”

  No, he was still on the fence about more “fun.” But she could label it whatever she wanted as long as she said yes. “For tonight, yeah it is.”

  Kat frowned. “I didn’t pack a dress.”

  He glanced down at her suitcase. From where he was standing, it looked as if she’d packed half her closet. Or maybe she’d only brought the short skirts and fancy underwear.

  “Wear whatever you want,” he said, pushing aside his mental wish list of Things in Kat’s Bag. “According to my sister—­she is the maid-­of-­honor—­Georgia is so focused on her dress that she doesn’t care what the guests wear.”

  “I can’t crash some poor girl’s wedding,” Kat protested. “She doesn’t know me.”

  “Trust me, Kat. It will be fine.” His sister had been hounding him to bring a date, and Katie had roped Georgia into her cause. The bride would be thrilled he’d chosen a last minute plus one. And Eric didn’t care if all the guests bailed as long as he got to marry Georgia.

  “I’ll pick you up at five,” he called over his shoulder as he headed for his truck. He climbed in and closed the door before she could object again. Watching her wheel her fancy suitcase into the hotel, each step betraying her irritation, he knew he’d made the right call by inviting her.

  For one night, he wanted Kat to feel like she was a part of Independence Falls. He wanted to give her a new reason to like this place. And yeah, he could tell himself he was doing it for Josh, to make his brother’s doctor feel at home while treating him. But he knew that was a lie.

  He was doing this for her. Wild, sexy Kat had gotten under his skin last night. And now he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was his. Maybe he couldn’t tie her to his bed and make her scream his name, but he could look out for her. He could be the one person in this town that she could count on to make sure that returning home didn’t hurt quite so much.

  Chapter 8

  NUMBERS NEVER LIED. Emotions on the other hand were like smoke screens. Hopes rose only to be crushed. And love remained an elusive, indefinable thing always out of her grasp. But the numbers, the cold hard facts, were always there for her. From the SATs to the MCATs, they shaped her world.

  “There are only twenty ­people here,” she whispered, scanning the four rows of white plastic chairs. The intimate seating area faced a white wooden arbor lined with colorful wildflowers. Beyond the spot where the bride and groom would say their vows, fields of grape vines sloped up and down hills. The Cascade Mountains were a backdrop to the picture-­perfect scene. Still snowcapped on a warm April day, the peaks were breathtakingly beautiful, even to a confirmed city girl who loved her skyscrapers.

  Either the bride had blown her budget on the location and needed to cut the guest list by one hundred, or she’d planned a small wedding. After googling multimillionaire Eric Moore in her hotel room, Kat had a feeling it was option B.

  “The groom runs the largest timber operation in the Pacific Northwest and he only invited twenty guests?” she said, running her hands over the sheer black pleated top layer to her skirt. Beneath the see-­through fabric, the nude pencil skirt hugged her curves. She’d paired the off-­the-­runway piece with a bright blue silk blouse for a pop of vibrant color. The simple fact that she hadn’t packed a dress appropriate for a wedding demanded the skirt/shirt combination.

  Glancing around at the other guests, she could have worn a simple shift and sweater. Most of the women had selected dresses for the occasion. One or two fit the label cocktail attire. The rest reminded Kat of Sunday ser­vices in Independence Falls. The family she’d lived with when she was eleven had taken her every week. And a ­couple of the outfits here tonight looked as if they dated back to that era. The men wore jackets, though one guest seated across the aisle had paired his sports coat with a Moore Timber T-­shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots.

  “Georgia recently returned from Afghanistan,” Brody said, leaning close and keeping his voice low. “She’s out of the army now, but large crowds make her nervous. She decided to keep the wedding to friends, a few coworkers, and family.”

  The bride was a veteran with PTSD? That had to top the list of weddings not to crash.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” Kat said.

  Brody took her hand as if he thought she might run. It was tempting, but the last thing Kat wanted to do was startle the bride by racing away from her wedding ceremony.

  Chad Summers claimed the empty seat on her right, the one bordering the pathway between the chairs. He smiled at her, his brown eyes brimming with mischief. “I heard a rumor that you’d decided to bring a date,” he said to his
brother. “I didn’t realize it was the new doctor.”

  “I’m not his date,” Kat said quickly, pulling her hand free from Brody’s hold. “I was tricked into crashing.”

  Chad’s eyebrows shot up. “By my big brother?”

  “How’s Lena?” Brody demanded, in what she suspected was an attempt to shut down his brother’s curiosity.

  Chad smiled at the woman’s name. “Ready to blaze a path down the aisle. She was getting Hero prepared to do his part when I left. He’s one good-­looking flower dog.”

  Traditional wedding music ended the conversation. The groom appeared at the front in a charcoal three-­piece suit. Beside him stood an equally attractive gentleman. She didn’t recognize either one—­though she guessed Mr. Three-­Piece Suit was Eric Moore. Still, one look around the small wedding and Kat had to admit the single, female population of Manhattan might flock to small-­town Oregon if they realized the abundance of droolworthy men.

  Abandoning any hope of escaping this friends and family event, Kat turned her attention to the white runner leading to the arbor. A small boy, about three or four, appeared. He clutched a pillow with two rings tied to the top in one hand and a small plastic sheep in the other. Dropping the pillow, he raced to the front, heading straight for the groom.

  “Nate, the rings!” an older woman, possibly the bride or groom’s mother, called to the child.

  Eyes wide with surprise, the young ring bearer raced back, discarded the toy sheep, picked up the pillow and returned to the front.

  The bridal procession continued with a golden retriever carrying a white wicker basket overflowing with rose petals. As the dog trotted toward the arbor, petals tumbled to the white runner. A blond woman who looked as if she belonged on the Fashion Week runway despite her somewhat ordinary tea-­length green dress followed close behind. The animal paused by the abandoned sheep and cocked its head as if debating whether to drop the basket and continue on with the toy.

  “Don’t you dare, Hero,” the blond woman murmured, and the retriever obeyed. Katie Summers followed in a matching dress, the green highlighting her red hair.

  “My sister’s boyfriend is the guy standing beside the groom,” Brody said, his voice low. “Liam Trulane. He’s also Georgia’s brother. They grew up here too.”

  “One big happy family, huh?” Kat whispered as the music changed and the audience stood.

  “We have out moments,” Brody murmured, his lips curving up, forming a smile that managed to scream sexy and sweet at the same time. “But for the most part? Yeah, one big family.”

  Why do I have a feeling your worst moments together surpass my best memory of “having a family”?

  Because even at their worst, they had each other.

  Turning to the aisle, Kat wondered if she should slip away after the ceremony. She didn’t belong here. The connections in her life didn’t run deep. Even the ones that scratched the surface—­her friends from medical school, her colleagues in New York, her mentor—­none of those relationships had roots in this town.

  She’d grown up with these ­people but didn’t recognize them. She’d planned to march into town, her look-­you-­were-­wrong-­about-­me attitude in place. But so far no one remembered her.

  The anonymity left her unsettled. And wondering if she’d given her past and this place too much weight.

  The bride appeared, her smile wide and her brown eyes brimming with excitement. Georgia moved with slow, measured steps as if it took all of her self-­restraint not to race to the arbor and greet her groom. The simple ivory strapless dress flowed effortlessly around her. It was a classic, elegant choice, apart from the black lace sash wrapped around her waist. The sash, a modern twist that set the gown apart, formed a big bow at the back.

  Watching this woman, a virtual stranger who’d fought in a war, survived, and struggled with the aftereffects, head for her groom, the number of ­people present faded into the background and emotion took over. And so what if they didn’t remember her? This was Georgia’s moment.

  “Eric, it feels like I’ve loved you forever,” the bride said, beaming up at her groom. “And then I fell head first in love with you. I trust you to always see me and believe in me. And I promise to do the same for you. I can fight the scary bears alone, Eric. But together, as a family—­” The bride stole a quick glance at the ring bearer.

  “Nate is Eric’s nephew,” Brody explained in a low voice. “He took the kid in after his parents died.”

  Kat’s gaze snapped to the little boy as an imaginary band squeezed her heart. Joy chased the rush of pain she felt for his loss. He wasn’t alone. The child had lost so much, yet gained these ­people, who were openly declaring their love for one another.

  “Together as a family,” Georgia continued. “We’ll fight the scary bears.”

  Eric reached out and took her hand. “Always, Georgia. Always.”

  The ring bearer gave a solemn nod.

  “My turn?” Eric said. And then without waiting for confirmation, he began: “I’ll keep this short because I’m dying to kiss my beautiful bride.”

  The audience laughed and Nate scrunched up his nose.

  “I always try to do the right thing, make the right choices. And loving you, Georgia? Standing by your side, taking care of you no matter what life throws our way, nothing has ever felt so right. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, trusting in you, believing in you. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you happy. Always.”

  Happiness—­looking at the bride and groom, Kat believed it was possible. But it had often felt out of place amid these mountains. Still, she had changed, and so had Independence Falls. She didn’t have to spend her time here revisiting the unwanted feelings that had descended on her swift and fierce outside the Falls Hotel. She could find new ones, bury the long-­held hurts.

  And she could choose to spend her brief time here with the football star who’d offered a helping hand once upon a time. Brody Summers was one of the best things this town had to offer, then and certainly now that he’d matured into a man who knew how to use his sinfully perfect body to deliver the world’s best orgasms.

  Judging from the way he’d pulled over and handed back her panties, he wanted her too.

  “Brody,” she whispered as the groom kissed his beautiful bride. “Do you dance?”

  “It’s been a while,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on the happy ­couple.

  “I think you proved last night that lack of practice doesn’t diminish your ability to perform.”

  Cheering, music, and the officiant’s words, “I now pronounce you man and wife,” interrupted. Kat stood, clapping and smiling as the bride and groom raced down the aisle followed by the empty-­handed little boy and the golden retriever.

  “But I can’t dance with you,” Brody murmured.

  His words took the edge off her happiness. “Then why did you bring me?”

  She knew the answer as soon as the words escaped. Pity. She’d offered a window into her past and Mr. Do-­the-­Right-­Thing had felt sorry for her. Her grade school science project was coming back to haunt her again. But she refused to let it win.

  “I thought you’d have fun,” he said.

  And you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving me at the hotel. He’d meant well. She wasn’t blind to that fact. But she hated the idea that this man looked at her and saw a dog that had been kicked one too many times. She wasn’t a rescue project. Not anymore.

  The guests followed the bridal party into the winery’s event space. Floor-­to-­ceiling windows showed tables decorated with simple yet elegant centerpieces, a dance floor, and a long wooden bar lined with wine bottles. But Kat hung back, allowing the invited guests to join the bride and groom.

  “I will have fun,” she said. “If you dance with me.”

  Winning a yes from Brody suddenly felt necessary. It had b
een years since anyone had caught a glimpse beneath the facade she presented to the world. In New York no one looked at her and saw “orphan.” No one offered Dr. Katherine Arnold a pity date, not to a wedding or anywhere else.

  She stepped into the reception and scanned the crowd. “I could ask that cowboy over there. The one wearing the T-­shirt.”

  “Craig?” Brody’s hand moved to her lower back, his finger brushing the outer layer of her skirt. “He’s one of Eric’s crew chiefs.”

  “A man who wields a chainsaw can’t dance?” she challenged as he guided her toward the bar.

  Brody’s jaw locked, his hand pressing tight against her back. “I’ll do it. I’ll dance with you.”

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, after the bride and groom completed their first spin around the dance floor, Brody set his beer on the bar and held out his hand. A lively, familiar country song filled the room. He might look like a fool moving to the upbeat tempo, but he couldn’t risk a long, slow song that demanded close contact. If he held her body up against his, it wouldn’t end there.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “You always keep your word, don’t you?” Kat placed her wineglass beside his beer and allowed him to lead her to the center of the cleared area.

  “If I say I’m going to do something, I do it.” He placed one hand on her waist and tried not to think about what her curves looked like free from her fancy clothes.

  “Hmmm,” she murmured, moving closer, ignoring his attempt to keep her body from pressing up against his. “I’m tempted to wiggle a naughty promise out of you.”

  Brody frowned. “I don’t think this is the time or place.”

  Her hand moved up his shoulder to where his shirt collar stopped. Her fingertips teased the bare skin. “I’m sure they have a quiet storage room. From what I recall, you don’t need much, just a solid door, maybe a wall for support.”