by Rye Hart
“How’s your food, Michael?”
He stopped his conversation midway and slowly panned his gaze toward me.
“Hm?” he asked.
“Your food. How is it? Cooked the way you like? I made sure to talk to the chef for you,” I said.
“It’s okay. It’s not really for us anyway. You know all of this is for them,” he said.
“It could be a little for us, too. It’s why I booked the ballroom, so we could dance a little.”
“Don’t be stupid, Katie. We can’t dance at our rehearsal dinner. It’s bad luck.”
“Stupid?” I asked. “Since when is dancing at a dinner stupid and bad luck?”
“Hold on,” he said before returning to his prior conversation.
I was stunned. Had he really just called me stupid?
I could see some of the glances from the other women around the table, but they weren’t glances of pity. Instead, they were glances of understanding. Trying to silently soothe me into a lifestyle I had chosen. They sat with their hands crossed in their lap and their hair perfectly done. Their makeup was spot-on, and their dresses didn’t have a wrinkle in them. They were nothing but trophies to the men sitting beside them as laughter erupted from the table.
Laughter that made me wince.
Michael and I hadn’t laughed like that together in so long.
“I’m going to go get a drink.”
“You shouldn't be drinking tonight, Katie. You know how you get when you drink,” he said.
“It’s only a small glass of wine,” I said. “Would you like something? A beer, maybe?”
“Since when have you ever seen me drink beer for dinner?”
The look on his face reached out and painted that word on my forehead. Stupid. Michael was looking at me as if I was an idiot.
“Be right back,” I said, murmuring.
I got up from my chair and walked quickly. I made my way for the bar, my hands trembling as tears threatened to flood my eyes. The bartender was looking at me with a sympathetic glance as he poured me a glass of merlot, and I sipped on it as I sighed and closed my eyes.
“Ah, there she is,” a familiar voice said.
“The beautiful blushing bride.”
I glanced up and saw four gorgeous men before my eyes. My heart beat began to quicken as my eyes followed the breathtaking line of O’Conner brothers before me: Dylan, Wyatt, Andrew and Caleb.
Have mercy.
It was like looking at the cover of a GQ magazine, southern gentlemen edition. The same butterflies that flew in my belly for them in the past were back in full swing. All four brothers were clad in suits, tailored specifically to their tall muscular features.
They each had dark hair and green eyes. Their facial bone structures and sun-kissed skin made them stand out in any room.
The O’Conner brothers were tall and well-built. They had broad shoulders and muscular physiques.
I used to think that watching them walk away was as satisfying as watching them walk toward me. They all filled out a pair of jeans in a way that was downright sinful.
I embraced them all with bear hugs.
“Hey guys. It’s so great to see you all,” I said, while holding back tears.
“Well, it’s about time, doll” Dylan said, using the nickname he’d had for me since I was a kid.
“We were beginning to wonder if we’d have to wait till you walked down the aisle for your debut,” Wyatt said.
“You look beautiful tonight, pretty lady” Andrew said, using another nickname.
“Stunning. But, wait a minute. Since when do you drink wine?” asked Caleb.
“Oh, wow one at a time boys. I said with a grin. “And to answer your question, Caleb, I’ve been drinking this stuff for years.”
“I can dump it and get you a decent beer if you want,” Caleb said.
“I’m good. The last thing I need to be doing is getting drunk at my rehearsal dinner,” I said.
“Who said anythin’ ‘bout gettin’ drunk?” Andrew asked.
“I just want to make sure Michael knows I’m not getting wasted over here, okay?” I asked.
“Katie, is everything all right? There’s somethin’ in your eyes that’s not right,” Dylan inquired with concern in his eyes.
He always knew how to read me. They all did. I should’ve known better than to think I could hide my feelings from them.
“I’m not sure I’m making the right choice,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Very smooth Katie. Throw all your troubles on them the first minute to see them.
“What? Why not?” Wyatt asked. “He done somethin’ to you?”
“I’ll beat his fuckin’ face in,” Andrew said.
“Slow down, guys,” I said.
“Yes. Give Katie some room to breathe and process,” Dylan said. “When she’s got her thoughts together, she’ll talk.”
“Thanks, Dylan. I just—he called me ‘stupid’ earlier.”
“Okay. Where the fuck is he?” Dylan asked.
“You got Dylan cussin’. Shit got real,” Andrew said.
“You think he’s getting cold feet like me?” I asked.
“Cold feet is when you don’t know if you should be walkin’ down the aisle in front of hundreds of people. Callin’ an educated woman ‘stupid’ is straight uncalled for,” Caleb said.
“I’m gonna knock his fuckin’ head off,” Wyatt said.
“What else has he done to you, Katie?” Dylan asked.
“Guys really it’s nothing serious. He’s just… being distant. Not really talking to me. I doubt he even realizes I’m not at the table right now,” I said.
“The fuck you wanna marry someone like that for?” Caleb asked.
“It’s not too late to back out,” Dylan said. “Doesn’t sound like you’re happy.”
“Doesn’t look like it, either,” Caleb said, murmuring.
“But he was there through everything. Mom. The treatments. Flying me back and forth—”
“You think you owe him somethin’ for that?” Andrew asked. “That’s what you do for someone you love, not some favor he did you.”
“I’d done the same damn thing if I were in his position,” Caleb said. “Wouldn’t mean you owed me your future.”
“I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “I just don’t know.”
“Like I said, if you need anythin, you ask us, doll,” Dylan said.
His hand came down onto my shoulder as I drew in a deep breath. It was warm and welcoming like I remembered the brothers to always be. I threw back the rest of my wine, grimacing as it went down. I hugged them all one last time before I made my way back to my seat.
As I locked my eyes onto Michael, I was begging him to look at me, to pull his gaze away from his friends at the table and acknowledge my presence. That was all I needed to settle my soul and know I was doing the right thing, to know that neither of us was going to waste our lives away with someone we shouldn’t be with. I counted the seconds in my head.
One.
Two.
Three.
But instead of a glance my way, I saw a waitress come up alongside him and tap him on his shoulder. I watched him turn around and smile up at her, his eyes sparkling and his smile beaming.
Then I watched his eyes slide down to her chest as he began to stare.
I wove my way through the tables. He was smiling up at her in a way he hadn’t looked at me in some time. His hand was on top of her hand as she rested it on his shoulder, and I tried to reason everything away.
Until I saw her slip him a piece of paper into the palm of his hand.
I stood there, frozen in my spot as I looked at him.
He unfolded the note and showed it to his friend, who automatically gave him a thumbs up. Like a fucking teenager in high school. I felt tears crest my eyes as I watched his eyes dance with happiness. His fingertips gracefully folded the piece of paper back up before he tucked it into his pocket.
&nbs
p; He was keeping it.
The bastard was keeping the waitress’s number.
Oh... hell to the no.
“I can’t do this,” I said.
I must’ve said it a lot louder than I’d intended because the room slowly quieted down as Michael’s eyes whipped up to mine.
At least I had his fucking attention now.
“What?” he asked.
“I can’t do this,” I said as tears crested my eyes. “I can’t marry you.”
Gasps ricocheted across the room as I began to backpedal toward the door. People were beginning to murmur as I heard a chair scrape along the floor. I turned, ready to make a run for it with the boots that covered my numbing feet.
But I felt a pressure on my upper arm as my body was whipped around.
“You can’t marry me?” Michael asked. “Since when?”
“Since I watched you take that waitress’s number,” I said.
“She didn’t hand me her number,” he said. “She handed me her email address.”
“For what? Does she have some sort of case she needs help with? Were you having a consultation with her when you were staring at her tits?”
“I would advise you to keep your voice down unless you want this whole room thinking there’s going to be no wedding tomorrow,” he said.
“Michael, there isn’t,” I said. “We aren’t right for this. We aren’t right for each other.”
“You’re calling off the damn wedding? After all I did for you? All the money I spent flying you to and from this wretched state? The funeral I planned at your side? Have I not shown myself to be a devoted man?”
“You called me stupid ten minutes ago, and you’ve hardly acknowledged my presence all night.”
“Because everyone is here, Katie, and you act like it’s your show. This is for both of us. This is our wedding, not only yours. People didn’t fly in just to see you. They came to see me, too. And I’m not ignoring them because my bride-to-be is pissed that the spotlight isn’t on her all the time.”
“I don’t need the damn spotlight on me. You know it. Is it too much to ask that my husband-to-be acknowledge me?” I asked.
“You were like that all through college, but I leveled you out. I was the one that stood by your side while you were off partying. I was the one that held your hair back when you got sick. I was the one that kept checking in on you until you could plant your feet firmly on the floor like a woman should do. That was me, Katie. Because I loved you.”
His words hit me like a punch in the gut.
Loved?
“Past tense?”
“Katie, if you walk away from this, you’ll regret it. You’ll never find another man like me. You're an idiot if you can’t see what’s in front of you.”
“Idiot and stupid all in one night. Must be my lucky day,” I said breathlessly.
“Take a deep breath, Katie. Did you have a beer at that bar? How many did you have?”
“I’m not drunk. I’m not on my period. And I’m not anything else you wish to blame my outbursts on. You want me to be some perfect little trophy wife that doesn’t give a shit whose tits you stare at or whose number you get. Well, I’m done. I’m done with your controlling ways, and I’m done with you blaming everything on me. You can let the room know that the wedding is off.”
“And who in the world is going to reimburse their tickets? Because I sure as hell am not,” he said.
“We’ll take care of it.”
I turned around and saw Dylan standing behind me. He walked up beside me with a grin on his face and a devilish glint in his eye.
“Should anyone feel the need to be reimbursed for anything, O'Conner Ranch Resorts will take care of it,” Dylan said.
“I’m not talking about the damn dinner,” Michael said. “I’m talking about the airplane tickets.”
“Those as well,” Dylan said. “As the man who runs the Finance Department of this resort, I’ll see to it that each and every one of your guests are treated with the care and respect they deserve.”
“And what about their stay here?” Michael asked.
“I’m sure everyone will enjoy the resort despite not havin’ to attend a weddin’,” Caleb said.
“And we’ll be bookin’ another room for Miss Carr for the night,” Andrew said.
Michael glared at me as the brothers gathered protectively around me. He drew in a deep breath before he turned back to the ballroom, then entered it with his head held high. He clapped his hands together and began his announcement, telling the room there would be no wedding and reassuring everyone that they were welcome to stay and enjoy the facilities.
Then, Wyatt wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me to the elevator.
“Come on. Let’s get you set up somewhere else. You did good, Katie Cat,” he said.
CHAPTER 2
DYLAN
“What the hell do you mean the venue isn’t refundable?”
“I’m sorry, sir. But our policy was clearly outlined in the contract.” I said as I looked Michael straight into his eyes.
“I’m not getting married. This venue cost me ten thousand dollars alone. And you mean to tell me that because my fiancée—”
“Ex-fiancée,” I said with a grin.
“You mean that because Katie fucking Carr ruined this entire thing, that I’m supposed to walk away from ten thousand dollars?” Michael asked.
“Our policy was outlined clearly to you in the contract you signed. Five thousand dollars was a non-refundable deposit, and the other five thousand wasn’t refundable after thirty days,” I said.
“I guarantee you if I look through that fucking contract I won’t see a damn thing like that,” he said.
“You’re welcome to try sir, but I guarantee you, it’s there. However, I have asked every single one of your guests if they wanted their rooms refunded and a credit put toward their airline tickets to get home. Some have taken me up on the offer. Others have not.”
“I’ll take you to fucking court if you think you’re gonna keep ten thousand damn dollars.”
“Then I await the subpoena for court.”
Even though I was keeping my voice steady and eradicating my accent as much as I could to seem professional, I was ready to go to blows. I saw how he’d treated Katie last night.
I saw how he was staring down women as they passed by in their low-cut dresses. I saw how he ignored her and how depressed she looked.
Katie was nothing but radiant in her rehearsal gown. The champagne-colored dress fell over her curves like sunlight pours through the sheer curtains of a window during a sunrise. And a woman who was dressed in such decadence deserved to be treated like the queen she was.
Except all he’d done was ignore her, snuff out her light and rob Katie of the joy I knew she hadn’t felt for a long time. She’d been through so much with the loss of her mother.
She deserved to have the wedding of her dreams.
It wasn’t right. Katie didn’t deserve that, and I was glad she’d called things off.
I was happy for her, and for selfish reasons of my own.
“It’s that bitch’s fault all this went to hell. You wanna charge someone? Charge her,” Michael said.
This man must have a death wish.
“Language, sir. Some of our guests have sensitive ears.”
I felt my jaw clench as I came out from behind the counter. I walked toward the pussy of a man standing in front of me and wrapped my hands around behind my back. I could feel my brothers’ eyes on me, watching my hands ball up into fists as I hid them from our guests. No one needed to see any violence this morning.
But if he threw the first punch, I would be sure to end the fiasco.
“Sir. You have a contract outlining our policy, and I have been more than generous with the guests of this resort. Either you calm your voice and vacate the premises, or I will throw you out myself.”
I looked down at the man, a good four inches shorter than me. My smile was w
arm, but my eyes were blank.
I wanted him to know I could take him.
I wanted him to know whose territory he was standing in.
I wanted him to tremble in his shined shoes until his millions came falling out of his pockets.
“Hide behind that suit. Pussies do that,” Michael said with a murmur.
“You really should work on that language. Have a good day, Mr. Thompson.”
An older man approached Michael. I assumed he was the douchebag’s father.
“Come on, son. This man isn’t worth your weight in feathers.”
“I hope you will come and enjoy our resort soon,” I said.
“Not a fat chance in hell,” Michael said.
“Son? Decorum. Thompsons always hold themselves with decorum.”
I swallowed my chuckle as the man straightened his suit and headed for the door. He called me a pussy, but he was the one that had backed down. Men were astounding sometimes, and I didn’t know how parents could live with themselves. Raising such insolent and offensive animals to unleash onto the whole of society.
Michael’s father looked back at me, a gleam of anger in his eyes. I knew we would see some court paperwork cross this desk soon, but all I’d have to do is send our lawyer out with a copy of our standard contractual agreement. I’d outline all the extra things I’d offered each individual guest, and no courtroom would side with the likes of “The Thompsons.”
I grinned at them as they made their way out the door, silently wishing it’d hit the asshole on the way out.
“Morning, Dylan.”
Katie’s voice pulled me from my dark trance as my shoulders relaxed. Her tousled blonde tresses and rich chocolate eyes framed a beautiful heart-shaped face.
The delicate curve of her neck reached shoulders that were smattered with freckles from growing up in the sun. Her breasts were ample and perky, and her hips were curved like a racetrack I’d always dreamed of taking a spin on.
“How long have you been standin’ there, doll?” I asked.
“Long enough to know I made the right choice. Thank you… for everything.”
“There’s no need to thank me. You know that.”
“Well I’m grateful anyway. Why do you bury your accent when you’re working,” she asked.