by Ellie Hall
“They go fast.”
“Wyatt,” Will said measuredly.
“Fine, fine. She can show me around.”
“You don’t have to make it sound like a trip to the dentist for a root canal,” Charlotte muttered.
Juliette slinked over and in rapid French asked, “Is the cowboy officially available or taken? I saw him with a tarte.”
Will and Charlotte gave opposite answers at the same time. Charlotte was inclined to allow Juliette to show Wyatt a good time in London. But she was right about that Amanda woman, especially given the tight-fitting dress. Then again, Juliette did mention she had a French amor.
Also, in French, Charlotte reminded her as much.
In Juliette’s native language, she replied, “Will said the cowboy is taken?”
Charlotte cut her brother a glare and then, keeping the conversation between the cousins, and assuming Wyatt didn’t speak French, which was a safe bet, she went on to explain that William was up to something sneaky.
He denied it and then apologized to Wyatt for how rude the women were being.
Wyatt confirmed he didn’t understand them.
“Why don’t you dance with him again? I saw the chemistry between you two. It was magnetic.” Juliette arched an eyebrow in Charlotte’s direction.
Charlotte tried to deny it but Juliette carried on.
Will grinned, glad their cousin was on his side.
Wyatt watched with rapt curiosity, probably interested in Juliette—she was very day-time Parisian in appearance, though far more evening-hours in character, always up for a fete.
The thought gave Charlotte an idea to get out of the ridiculous conversation. She switched to English. “Did you see the guest favors yet?” she asked.
“Non.”
“Will and Emma were very generous to everyone.”
In actuality, they made a donation in each guest’s name to their favorite animal rescue in the city. The gift bag for guests included a certificate stating as much and a bundle of assorted handmade candies from the finest chocolatier in London, all in the shape of paw prints. Charlotte knew that Emma would’ve gladly done the baking but she was too busy to create chocolate paw prints for three-hundred guests who attended the dinner that night. The gifts include other swag as well—mostly themed around the pampered pooch, which Juliette would appreciate with her bichon frise at home.
“I’m not sure you’ll be all that impressed considering some of the best chocolate in the world is in Paris,” Will said, ruining Charlotte’s attempts to stave off her cousin.
“Where is Emma anyway? I want to hear about the dog-friendly bakery and café she keeps talking about,” Charlotte said when her original plan failed.
“She’s speaking with Claudius Belanger, the current regent at arms.” Will pointed. “We’ll have our own coat of arms made.”
“Really?” Wyatt asked, impressed.
Will nodded then asked for Wyatt’s phone. He entered Charlotte’s information. “Now, I probably won’t see you guys too much tomorrow, although you are seated together at the reception.” Will took a deep breath as though bracing himself for the event.
Wyatt clapped him on the shoulder again. Her brother was strong and worked at his physique daily, but at the contact of Wyatt’s hand and because Will still gripped her, they both jostled.
“You been ropin’ cattle or whatever it is you cowboys do out there on the ranch?” Will glanced at Wyatt’s large hand.
“Something like that.”
“In any case, the two of you have a date the day after next to be tourists for a few days. Okay?”
“Do you mean an appointment?” Charlotte asked.
Will shrugged. “Call it whatever you want, but show Wyatt a good time.”
Juliette raised and lowered her eyebrows a couple of times.
“That’s not what he means,” Charlotte hissed in French.
“I know what he means. You having a good time instead of sulking is an improvement.”
“I have not been sulking,” Charlotte fired back.
“You have,” Will said, nodding.
“I forgot you spoke French, man,” Wyatt said. “What are they talking about?”
Charlotte waved him off.
“The happiest I saw you was when you and the cowboy were dancing. Though you were reluctant as though you were afraid to allow yourself to be, well, happy,” Juliette said.
“I heard her say cowboy,” Wyatt said, as though pleased he understood something in the foreign language.
Will nodded. “Yep, same in English and French.”
“Then they’re talking about me?” he asked. “What are they saying?”
“You don’t want to know.” Will snickered, apparently amused by what he’d started.
Old dog. Well, not that old, but same tricks—always causing mischief.
Later that night, Charlotte parted the pages of the book she always read to Birdie before bed. It had been a long day and she was glad to be home and barefoot. Her feet ached from the heels and another part of her ached from dancing with Wyatt.
“Twas the night before Uncle Will's wedding and all through the house…”
Birdie giggled. “Mummy, that's not how it goes. This one is about Duke and his day at the park.”
Dogs and horses were Birdie’s favorite two animals and she just thought of the latter as really big versions of the former.
“Oh, that's right. I'm so excited for the wedding I can hardly concentrate,” Charlotte said, giving her daughter a tickle.
But it wasn't that exactly. It was the rough-around-the-edges rancher who she'd heard plenty of stories about from her brother. It was the warmth from his hand when he’d placed it on her back while they were dancing. The pleasant rushing zing that shot through her. The eye contact she refused to have because it was too intense, too revealing, and left her wanting something she couldn’t bear to even contemplate.
Birdie’s sweet little voice talking about the prince and princess brought her back to her senses. “I'll finally get to meet them.”
“Your Auntie Emma is a princess too you know.”
Birdie nodded. “But she’s also Auntie Emma. Princess Ava and Prince Oliver are magical.”
Charlotte laughed. “Well, we better get some sleep so we don’t turn into pumpkins tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day.”
After she tucked her daughter in, Charlotte listened to Sydney’s message as she did every night. He’d wanted her to open her heart to true love but didn’t understand how much that scared her. Given she was going to spend the following day at the wedding and the ones after it with Wyatt, showing him around London, she was absolutely terrified.
Chapter 4
Wyatt
Because Will was the last person Wyatt ever expected to get married, to a princess no less, it was no surprise the evening before the wedding was unconventional: with the combined everything party and of course, the dance with Will’s sister.
She wasn’t Charlotte or Miss Jones. No, she was Will’s sister and that’s all she’d ever be. He couldn’t stop thinking about holding her while they danced, the deep, magnetic blue of her eyes and the shine of her hair. Because he was a red-blooded cowboy, he also couldn’t keep his mind drifting to curiosity about the curves he imagined hidden under the dress she wore.
However, when Wyatt arrived at Burklingham Palace early the morning of the wedding to have his invitation scanned as evidence that he was officially invited to the royal nuptials, he pushed her as far out of his mind as possible. Which wasn’t very far because every time a woman with dark hair passed, he’d crane his head, hopeful it was Charlotte.
Everyone had to enter through the same gateway, but many of the guests would watch the vows from the reception site because the church had a limited capacity and it would take forever to scan that many guests if they arrived from the ceremony all at once. Wyatt was also screened by guards for anything dangerous, liquid, or perishable. He didn’t ment
ion the danger he felt in Charlotte’s presence.
Wyatt was the best man, which meant he had the pair of wedding bands. It was then that he realized it was really happening. Wild Will, king of late-night parties, billionaire bad boy, model, and fitness guru was to be the consort of a real-life princess.
He’d practically begged Will to leave the rings in a safe or under lock and key, but one of his oldest and best friends assured him he trusted Wyatt with the valuables.
Then he went and insisted his sister show him around London. Wyatt tried to think of ways to beg off what Will had called a date and she’d called an appointment. He grunted in frustration. He wanted neither and especially not with her. It was too dicey because he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted himself. He didn’t want to risk ruining his friendship. Will would never forgive him.
He reminded himself Charlotte was Will’s sister. That’s all she was to him. Plain and simple.
Wyatt checked his pocket for the millionth time. The rings were still there. Safe and sound.
Wearing a gray suit custom-tailored to his large frame and coordinating with the rest of the wedding party, he started to sweat a bit, feeling pressure on Will’s behalf. The color theme was white and gold, naturally, and with a blue accent that threaded through the tie, which he wanted to loosen.
When Amanda waved at him and charged over, fanning her invitation and wearing heels he feared she’d trip and turn her ankle in, he realized an additional source of the anxiety. His own error in judgment when he was just twenty-one. It had lasted seven days. Nina was a lot like Amanda, tall, blond, a model, and teetering in heels.
At one point he’d liked women like that, but something in him had changed. He was more sensible or perhaps he couldn’t envision a woman like her enjoying life on the ranch.
He let out a long breath as Amanda kissed him on both cheeks. She went on to retell him a story she’d woven the night before at the party. “I’m so glad my date canceled last minute and you turned up.”
“Well, I am the best man.”
“But you traveled so far.”
“It’s just a six-hour flight.”
She stroked his arm. “That’s not bad. What’s it like where you live?”
“Lots of mud, horses, and rough country living.” He downplayed it. For him, it was second to heaven. He had the ranch, the stables, hundreds of acres, and of course, there were the wildflowers. He’d never thought much about why he’d planted them other than he was restless and it seemed like a good idea. Every spring they’d paint the hills and meadows in color.
“Don’t you miss city life?” she asked.
“It’s nice to visit.”
“You’d never considering moving from the ranch?” Amanda asked.
“No,” he answered. During what were seemingly less like glory days of his youth and more like a time he was glad was behind him, Wyatt had encountered plenty of women who weren’t interested in forming a relationship organically and more about feeling out how they might benefit from the situation: wealth, fame, connections. He’d had all of the above but genuinely enjoyed the simple life and preferred to keep his financial status to himself, particularly to keep women like Amanda at a distance.
As the line of guests crept slowly forward, Wyatt checked his pockets again. Amanda wrapped her arm around his as though they were actually together. He tried to shuffle aside to loosen her grip, but as Will had suggested, the woman had talons. Luckily for him, he’d be out of the country in less than a week.
Just then, Charlotte passed the long line and went directly to the guard at the next checkpoint. Wyatt’s eyes trailed her, enjoying the way she moved and the little sway in her hips. Juliette, her cousin, waved and said, “Bonjour,” as she passed.
Charlotte hardly spared him a glance. She wore leggings and a sweater since the early morning was still crisp and she’d likely be getting ready with the rest of the bridal party. Charlotte called for someone to wait for her, but the chatter from the crowd was so loud, she may as well have been speaking French again. The way her voice sounded, her tongue rolling and curling over those foreign words, tripped something inside of him the night before.
Juliette glanced back, her eyes straying to Amanda, who lifted the corner of her lip in a smug grin.
Wyatt exhaled, not wanting to be in the middle of a cat fight if Amanda and the French woman were at odds. He didn’t ask for Amanda’s company and she certainly wasn’t his date. Although he got the sense she’d prefer otherwise.
When he reached the checkpoint, he told the guard he was the best man and showed his ID and invitation. With a nod from the guard, he was permitted to pass through, but the guard barred Amanda’s way as she tried to follow him.
She said, “But I’m his date.”
Wyatt didn’t want to be rude, but that wasn’t true. Plus he had his best man duties to perform. He didn’t imagine Will would appreciate a woman he’d once dated hanging around either. He reckoned she’d only been invited because she was one of Will’s business associates at the gyms he owned.
The guard consulted his list and shook his head. “Apologies, Madam, Mr. Jones does not have a plus one on his registry.”
Wyatt held up his hands feigning helplessness. He’d convinced men bigger than the guard to allow girls into clubs, but that one he passed on.
Amanda stomped her foot.
“I’m sorry, but I should get going.” Wyatt rushed forward and into the midst of the guests who’d already been permitted in. The party the night before was large, but he realized the wedding itself was something else altogether. When he’d wed in Las Vegas, there were just two witnesses, neither of whom remembered the event the next morning.
He was glad those days were behind him.
Never giving much thought to a proper wedding for himself, he decided right then and there—not that he’d ever get married again—but that somewhere in the middle was better: celebrate the marriage with loved ones and friends, but not with thousands present. He understood then why Will and Emma opted to have the smaller party the night before, not that it was all that small. Given Emma’s sudden royal status, he supposed the guest list wasn’t entirely up to them anyway.
In the men’s chamber, Will and the other groomsmen prepared—in typical guy fashion by standing around telling stories, mostly about football, but others were curious about island life.
“I was glad to skip out on most of the winter months,” Will joked. He spotted Wyatt and said, “When are you going to get down there, mate?”
Wyatt patted his pocket, once more checking for the rings and involved himself in the conversation, but shifting it back to sports talk. As special as the ranch was, the islands were a haven of sorts. A place where he could escape to if life on the mainland got too intense or he needed a change—much in the same way as when he’d retired from modeling and retreated to the ranch. He took comfort in having a backup plan.
However, he pushed the heavy thoughts away and returned to the jovial celebration of the momentous day. Will seemed at ease and ready for his vows. Meanwhile, he felt jumpy. He reminded himself he was out of his ordinary routine and couldn’t deny that thinking about his failed wedding got under his skin.
Shortly after, the tinkling of a bell indicated it was time for the men to leave for the church. It was quite the procession in horse-drawn carriages. Wyatt made a mental note to ask Will if he could visit the stables while he was still there. He wondered about where the horses went when they retired and about their lives as royal equines in general.
When they arrived at the church, the many distractions of the day fell away as Wyatt stood at the end of the long, red-carpeted aisle atop the altar and beside his best friend. Hundreds of guests lined both sides.
Charlotte and the other members of the bridal party walked slowly down the aisle to a version of the wedding march. They were all lovely, but Charlotte stood out. Her dark hair was partially up and the length revealed the delicate curve of the nape her neck.
The blue gowns they wore highlighted her eyes. The softness of her features and lips tugged at him. She was radiant.
An adorable little girl followed, dropping flower petals along the aisle. Then the music changed and the bride approached, also looking beautiful. However, he couldn’t help sneaking a gaze at Charlotte every few moments.
As the minister read a passage and then said a few words, it was undeniable that Will looked happy. Wyatt reflected that although marriage wasn’t for him that was okay. He could still celebrate the union of his best friend and the woman he loved.
When his eyes traveled over to Charlotte, looking serene, if not a little emotional, he had to remind himself that she was his best friend’s sister. Her gaze didn’t drift over to him. She remained focused at the back of the church. She swallowed hard. Wyatt knew she and Will had recently lost Sydney, their beloved guardian, a dad really, where they’d never known their biological father.
Nonetheless, Sydney was there, looking down, and watching over them. Perhaps it caused her to feel especially emotional.
The minister called for the rings. Wyatt plucked them from his pocket, grateful he hadn’t lost them. A wave of relief at no longer having the responsibility to keep them safe washed over him as they rested atop a pillow between the bride and groom.
As the ceremony continued, Wyatt glanced at Charlotte, who almost seemed to tremble. She rapidly blinked several times. Even though it was clear she tried to remain composed, it was clear she was upset. Her gaze remained locked on the end of the aisle. What he thought was sadness streaking her features, shifted into a hard expression. She glared.
Wyatt considered the possibility that weddings were difficult for her as well, but her sudden change in demeanor prompted him to squint into the distance, trying to see if she was looking at someone.
His eyes landed on a tall man at the back. He wore a suit and still had a head full of hair, but it was shaded salt and pepper. His tanned skin suggested he enjoyed a good life, but the pinched lips and the pitch of his eyebrows told Wyatt that something was amiss.