Chapter One
Katelyn Morrison stood at the altar with tears swelling behind her eyes. She forced her attention to the bride and groom and the vows they lovingly gave each other. Her brother Jack reached out to his newly adopted son Danny and took the ring the six-year-old held in his hand. Danny beamed with pride, his smile and sigh catching the attention of everyone in the church.
Katie felt the hair on her arms stand on end when Jack winked at the boy. Her brother deserved the happiness he’d found with his bride and her son. Katie couldn’t be more ecstatic in the woman he’d chosen to make a Morrison.
The emotion that clogged her up even more, however, Katie didn’t want to name. She had no right to be jealous of her brother. Besides, green wasn’t a color she chose to wear.
Squaring her shoulders, Katie witnessed Jessie place a ring on Jack’s finger and repeat her vows. When the minister instructed Jack to kiss his bride, dimples spread over his face as he gathered her in his arms. True Texas catcalls and whistles lifted to the eaves of the church when Jack dipped Jessie low and let everyone know she was his. When Danny lifted his hand to shield his eyes from their kiss, the cameras in the church went wild.
Katie let out a laugh and ignored the tears falling from her eyes.
Then she felt him watching, knew the weight of his stare as she slowly lifted her gaze to the best man.
Dean’s gaze soaked her in. Looked through her would be a better way of putting the expression on his face. An unspoken understanding washed over his face and threatened to release a tidal wave of pain. In that moment, Katie held more regret than she’d ever had in her entire life.
Jack and Jessie turned toward the guests at the ceremony while Monica, Jessie’s sister and maid of honor, handed Jessie her bouquet. Katie pulled in her thoughts and memories and moved behind Jessie to fan the train of her dress so she could march down the aisle and not fall on the layers of fabric.
Thank God Jack picked Dean to be his best man, otherwise Katie would be paired with him for the remainder of the evening. Being this close to him was hard enough. Standing side by side all evening would be torture.
Hell, it was still torture.
The photographer ushered the bridal party outside the church while the guests were funneled in another direction. The bride and groom posed in front of the marble columns and ornate doors. Monica stepped beside Katie with Nicole, the other bridesmaid, by her side. A buzz overhead brought everyone’s attention to the sky.
A helicopter hovered over the church.
“Would have been asking too much for them to wait for a press release,” Katie chided.
“I know you said to expect them, but a helicopter?” Monica tilted her head back and shielded the sun from her eyes with her hand.
“With a high-powered lens snapping more pictures than the paid photographer.” Having spent the greater part of her life attracting the attention of the media, Katie was well rehearsed at ignoring their presence. Every mistake she’d ever made, nearly every kiss or affair she’d partaken in, had ended up on the cover of a magazine.
“Take the damn picture and go already.” Dean’s voice, even when it was angry, shot up her spine with awareness.
Nearly every affair.
Dean, Tom, and Mike moved closer to the women and shot insults at the hovering chopper.
“Nothing’s sacred,” Mike said.
“At least Gaylord kept the paparazzi on foot far away.”
“Daddy promised them a glimpse from the limo on the way to the reception,” Katie informed the wedding party. “Or a trip to jail for trespassing if they stepped one foot on church property.”
“A night in jail isn’t usually a deterrent.”
The three groomsmen had known Jack and Katie for years. Each one came from a family with money and power and knew the media better than their neighbors.
The noise from the chopper elevated, as did the wind it kicked up.
Danny ran up between Monica and Katie with a worried frown on his face. “Auntie Katie, is that helicopter gonna fall on us?”
She knelt down and took Danny’s hand in hers. The role of auntie might have been new, but the fierce need to protect her nephew and ease his fears was as automatic as breathing. “They wouldn’t dare risk it. Grandpa would tie them up and leave them in the sun to bake if they crashed this party.”
Danny’s eyes grew big. “Really?”
“Ask Grandpa to tell you about the paparazzi and my sixteenth birthday.”
Dean and Tom cleared their throats behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed both of them shaking their heads. A few misguided indiscretions of that day drifted to the surface of her memory. “On second thought, never mind.”
Monica leaned in and offered her own advice. “How about we make faces at them, Danny?”
He shot her a big smile before he lifted his head to the chopper and stuck out his tongue. Laughter filled the small group as each one of them wiggled fingers and contorted their faces toward the sky. Danny’s giggles kept them all animated. Chances were, the photographer in the chopper wasn’t focused on them, but Danny didn’t seem at all concerned that the hunk of metal was going to land on them any longer.
Even if their faces did end up on The Inquisitor, Katie knew she looked fabulous. The maroon floor-length silk dress hugged her curves like a lover’s caress. Lorenzo, the designer, had taken all three of the women in the bridal party into his studio and crafted identical dresses to work perfectly for each of their shapes. How he did it was a mystery. Not that he had to work around anything impossible. Both Monica and Nicole were over five seven and slender. And after a little work, Katie had shown them both the pleasure of designer heels. There was nothing sexier than a shoe that brought a guy’s attention to a shapely calf before zinging up a thigh and straight to her ass. The second Katie had slid the three-hundred-dollar pumps onto Monica’s feet, she knew she had a partner in crime.
Katie made sure the length of her leg peeked through her dress as she wiggled her fingers by her ears for the paparazzi.
As their laughter ebbed, the photographer waved them all inside the church for more pictures.
Danny took Monica’s hand and pulled her with him as the rest of the party followed.
Katie adjusted her dress to make certain the low-cut angle didn’t reveal too much.
“You look amazing.” Dean’s voice was low and heated as he slid up beside her.
She hadn’t realized he’d held back, and felt a little trapped in his presence. “You clean up well yourself, Prescott.” Boy, did he clean up. He pushed his dusty blond hair that always seemed a little long, but at the same time, perfectly right, out of his eyes. His Texas drawl reminded her of home. She’d worked hard to rid herself of her accent when she was younger, thinking it made her look stupid. Blonde and rich labeled her as dumb, which she fought for some time. It didn’t matter if she’d become a doctor or a rocket scientist. The world looked at her as an heiress and treated her differently. Around her sixteenth birthday she’d snapped. Her hormones started to rage and her desire to be noticed ruled her brain. Her skirts rode high, her pants skintight. Those designer heels she loved so well pushed her height past most the boys in school.
But the one she wanted to look didn’t.
Katie glanced into Dean’s eyes and quickly looked away. Her body tingled knowing he stood so close. The spicy scent of his skin made her want to lean in and take a deep breath. She fought her desire and found the silence between them painful.
She said the only thing she could think of, and then regretted her words instantly. “I’m sorry about Maggie.”
Dean’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t meant to be.” Maggie had broken off her engagement to Dean a week before their planned wedding. According to Jack, there wasn’t an explanation as to why. She’d simply disappeared and asked that Dean not contact her.
“It must have been hard for you…watching Jack and Jessie.”
Lord knew if she’d been snubbed that close to matrimony she’d never go to another wedding again.
The smile that always played on Dean’s lips fell. “It wasn’t hard at all.”
Katie wanted to tell him he was full of shit. If anyone knew his dreams, it was her. A wife and family had always been in his plans.
“Are you two coming or what?” Tom called from the door to the church.
Dean tilted his head, acknowledging Tom, then spread his fingers low on Katie’s back to usher her inside.
Heat spread up her body and licked every nerve ending in her skin. The memory of his hands slipping low on her hips as he explored her lips with his own washed over her. His hand jerked, as if he too shared the memory. He flexed his fingers and guided her forward.
Their time together was in the past, and best forgotten.
Acknowledgments
I absolutely have to take a moment to thank my agent, Jane Dystel, and everyone at Dystel & Goderich Literary Management. Their belief in me and the books I write is unsurpassed by anyone else. If it wasn’t for Jane and her nurturing encouragement I’m positive this series wouldn’t have found the perfect home.
My second round of kudos is to my editor at Montlake, Kelli Martin. Kelli’s attention to detail has made this book shine. Thanks for believing in me.
For the author team at Montlake who worked overtime to turn this book out for the holiday season. I know it wasn’t easy, but thank you all just the same.
For my family, who suffers with dirty laundry and warmed-up microwave meals when I’m on a deadline. Thanks!
I’ll end my acknowledgments with the person I dedicated this book to: my nana.
I really did think she was spunky enough to outlive all of us. Eventually the body gives out, however, and it was her time to go this year. She truly lived life to the fullest. Changed her name legally at some point to Shamrock and had more husbands than a Hollywood movie star.
Somewhere around my thirteenth birthday she said to me, “Catherine…you can just as easily fall in love with a rich man as you could a poor one. Only date rich men.”
For all the husbands she loved, she never did follow her own advice.
I love you, Nana.
Until we see each other again,
Catherine
About the Author
Photograph by Lindsey Meyer, 2012
New York Times bestselling author Catherine Bybee was raised in Washington State, but after graduating high school, she moved to Southern California in hopes of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full-time and has penned the novels Wife by Wednesday and Married by Monday. Bybee lives with her husband and two teenage sons in Southern California.