The Wedding Crasher and the Cowboy Page 2

  “I’m ready! You ready?” she called out from the living room a few minutes later.

  Glancing around the room, Kennedy saw Ava had textbooks and college-ruled notebooks strewn all over the coffee table and couch. Despite her protests, her sister loved school and really wasn’t that sad to be taking up some of her summer before her senior year at UCLA on women’s studies and global healthcare.

  “Ready!” Ava flounced into the room with a giant grin. She looked adorable in a pair of beige capri pants and the ruffled tee. Her hair, a shade darker than Kennedy’s blond, hung in waves around her shoulders.

  They linked arms and left their apartment.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ned. Thanks for letting me move in with you this year and for taking such good care of me.”

  “I’m happy to, but you know…”

  “I know. If you get the job in Boston, I’ll be without you. Which, for the record, will suck immensely, but I hope you get the position anyway.”

  “Thanks, kiddo.”

  “Please do not call me that while we’re out. It’s bad enough I still get carded for R-rated movies.”

  “I still get carded for R-rated movies,” Kennedy admitted.

  “The curse of Martin genetics. Speaking of, have you talked to Mom or Dad lately?”

  “No. Dad was away on business and I haven’t connected with him since he’s been back, and Mom is busy with wedding planning.”

  Ava squeezed her arm. “Wow. I think that’s the first time you’ve mentioned the wedding so nonchalantly.”

  “I guess enough time has passed that I’m not as affected as I used to be.” The wedding being their middle sister Victoria’s.

  “That’s good.”

  “Very good. Now, let’s talk only about happy things for the rest of the night. Deal?” Only the two of them—thick as thieves since they were young—thought their sister’s upcoming wedding lacked a happy occasion vibe. Although, given the circumstances, Kennedy was sure a poll of strangers would agree she had every right to be upset.

  “Deal.”

  They had a great time eating pad thai on the couch and watching 27 Dresses for the umpteenth time. Afterward, they talked and giggled about everything and nothing until they repeatedly caught yawns from each other.

  “Good night,” Kennedy said, heading to her bedroom.

  “Sleep tight,” Ava said, walking to hers.

  “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” they said in unison.

  Kennedy washed her face, brushed her teeth, and slipped on her comfiest nightgown. Crawling under the cool covers, she gave silent thanks for Ava. They might be eight years apart in age, but they always looked out for each other.

  Right in the middle of a fantastic dream starring Anthony Mackie—who was just about to unzip his Captain America uniform—a phone rang. It took her a fuzzy second to recognize it wasn’t dreamy Anthony’s phone but one actually near her ear. She sighed and reached for her cell on the nightstand with one eye half open to see the screen. Reed.

  She closed her eye and rolled over. She and her ex-boyfriend had remained good friends over the years, but that didn’t mean he could wake her at 1:07 in the morning. They definitely didn’t have that kind of a relationship anymore.

  The phone slipped from her fingers as she tucked her hands under her pillow and hoped she would fall back asleep.

  After a moment of wonderful silence, the phone rang again.

  Because there was always the weird chance her best friend or someone in her family had an emergency at the exact same time she’d been woken by another call, she looked at the phone. Still her ex. Maybe he had an emergency?

  She bolted up, phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Ken-ned-eee,” Reed greeted-slash-slurred.

  She slouched, elbows on her thighs. Not a crisis, just a drunk dial.

  “Hi, Reed. How are you?” The last time they’d talked rather than texted had been three weeks ago. His engagement to Elle, a woman she’d seen pictures of but never met, had reshaped their close relationship. As happened with major life changes.

  “I dunno,” he said.

  Hmm. Not exactly the answer she wanted to hear. “Where are you?” Music and voices blared in the background, suggesting a bar.

  “Bash-ler party.”

  “Your bachelor party?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay, go find your brother and tell him it’s time to go home.”

  “Not at home. In a wind song.”

  What? “Reed, where are you?” He must mean Windsong, the small town where he was getting married. His entire family was flying in from Baltimore for the big day. The background noise ceased, followed by the sound of…running water?

  Reed sighed in contentment. Oh no. He did not take her into the bathroom with him. “Ew, Reed!”

  “Sorry,” he said, at least having the decency to sound contrite. “For a lot of things.”

  She had no idea what that meant. They were good. They’d dated forever ago and come out as far better friends than lovers. “Okay…” If he needed someone to just listen, though, she could do that.

  She put the phone on speaker, gathered her hair to tie in a knot on top of her head, and closed her eyes.

  “Wedding’s in seven days?” he said. It sounded like a question, even though she knew it wasn’t. Saturday, August fourteenth, in the evening, a weeklong destination wedding on a ranch up north. That’s what Reed had told her, along with apologies for not inviting her because 1) they were keeping it fairly small, and 2) his fiancée wasn’t all that comfortable with it. Kennedy was bummed she wouldn’t get to share in his special day but hadn’t let on. Her sister’s upcoming wedding supplied more than enough drama.

  “Yes,” Kennedy said, covering a yawn with her hand.

  “Not sure it’s a good idea,” he said softly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t want to get mare-eed.”

  Kennedy brought the phone back to her ear. “You don’t want to get married?” she asked gently. She didn’t know Elle, but Reed had only great things to say about her. “Did something happen between you two?”

  “It’s too late,” he slurred.

  No. No. No. It wasn’t too late. But… “It’s normal to feel nervous, you know. Are your feet cold?” she joked, hoping he’d laugh and tell her that’s all this was.

  The sounds of a busy bar punctured their silence before a guy said, “Dude, get back out here. We can’t celebrate without the man of the hour.”

  “Wish you were here,” Reed said.

  “Is that Elle again?” the guy asked. “Tell her I’ve got you, bro.”

  “One sec,” Reed said, and Kennedy pictured him holding up his finger. The background noise ceased, the only sound a deep breath from her friend. “I gotta go. Sorry to bother you.”

  “You didn’t bother me. Reed—”

  “S’okay. Forget I called.”

  “But Reed—”

  He disconnected, leaving her with unanswered questions that made her heart pound and her mind race with worry. She called him right back. He didn’t pick up. She tried again. No luck.

  An uneasy knot lodged in her stomach. Did Reed have cold feet or was it something more? In med school he’d dated a lot, gaining a reputation as fickle, so when he got engaged, Kennedy knew Elle had to be special. They’d been together less than a year—had his feelings suddenly changed so drastically that he didn’t want to get married at all now?

  She lay back and stared up at the ceiling. Reed was one of the few people she could count on for anything and who she’d drop everything for in return. Spending four years of medical school and three years of residency together, they had each other’s backs. Blinking repeatedly, she recalled the time he’d saved her from an addict who pulled a kni
fe on her in the ER. Reed’s arm took the brunt of the weapon and required stitches to repair.

  Then there were her mom and dad. They’d divorced during her teenage years, and the repercussions had been painful. Still were, since her parents barely tolerated each other. While there were never any guarantees in marriage, she hated the idea of divorce possibly happening to Reed. His parents had been happily married forever, so he had no idea what divorce did to a person, let alone a family.

  Which meant if he had doubts about marrying Elle, she owed it to him to talk this through before it was too late. She could help him see he had found the woman of his dreams. The glaze to his doughnut.

  Wish you were here.

  Lucky for him, she could make that happen.

  Chapter Three

  Six days until the wedding

  Maverick Owens hefted another bale of hay off the back of his pickup. The stack inside the barn tilted slightly to the right, enough so that Magnolia poked her head through her stall and touched her nose to the golden straw. She did it to nudge the stack back into alignment. Swear to God, his horse was a genius.

  She had a treat coming her way in thanks.

  He continued to unload and, when he got to the last bale, that’s when his younger brother Hunter showed up. Some might say that meant his brother was also a genius. Maverick liked to call him lots of other names instead—troublemaker, nuisance, mini-me. Completely out of love, mind you.

  “Need any help?” Hunter asked.

  Maverick didn’t bother answering. Instead he gave him a look that said, What do you think, dumbass?

  Hunter let the look roll off his shoulders as usual, and seated himself on the edge of the open tailgate. Great. He wanted to talk. “You should have come out with us last night. Guess who was at Sutter’s?”

  This time of year, with tourists and college kids home from school, the local bar in town packed in more than the usual crowd. Maverick leaned against the tailgate. Lifted his hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “Who?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. His brother was about as transparent as the side of a barn.

  “Callie.” Cue the floating hearts above Hunter’s head. He’d had a crush on their sister’s best friend for as long as Maverick could remember.

  “Did you talk to her?”

  “No.”

  Maverick hated hearing the sound of defeat in his brother’s voice. Plain old love was hard enough, but unrequited love sucked a hundred times worse.

  “But,” he said, his tone leveling up to its normal buoyancy, “there was a bridesmaid there who decided I was the guy.”

  “The guy?”

  “To show her around when there weren’t any wedding obligations. She’s from back east and this is her first time in California.”

  “The wedding at the ranch this week?” Maverick’s family owned and operated The Owens House Inn and Guest Ranch in the small town of Windsong, California. They ran the property with the help of a dozen or so part-time staff, and in the past few years, weddings had become a popular event, most notably in December, but other months were booking up as well.

  “None other.”

  “Bad idea, Hunt.”

  “Why is that? You jealous I’ve got the attention of a beautiful woman and you don’t?” This ridiculous question was accompanied by a smirk.

  “It’s best not to break any guests’ hearts.”

  “I’m not going to do anything to upset her.”

  “Not on purpose.” Hunter was one of the best people Maverick knew, kinship aside, but the guy didn’t know the power he wielded over unsuspecting females. “Plus, you’re going to be busy with extra work this week.”

  “I can multitask.”

  “All right. Have fun, then.”

  “Plan to.” He slipped down from the tailgate. “I do wish you’d join us out sometime. The hermit thing is getting old.”

  Maverick nodded. He appreciated that his brother and friends wanted his company, but he preferred to spend time by himself on the couch with his dog or in the pasture with his horse. He ventured to town plenty on his own when it suited him.

  “I’ll see you later.” Hunt waved over his shoulder on his way toward the main house for lunch, no doubt. A glance up at the sun told Maverick it had to be around noon. That meant a full meal waited for them in the kitchen.

  He walked back into the barn, postponing food for now. Grabbing a carrot, he nuzzled up to Magnolia. “Think I can get away with laying extra low this week?” he asked her.

  Magnolia made a noise of agreement as she chomped on the vegetable.

  “Thanks for the support. I’ll count on you to keep me busy and hidden—how’s that? I don’t think there’re any scheduled lessons or horseback rides, so it’s just you and me.”

  Another short, sweet neigh.

  “That’s my girl.” He rubbed down her mane, camaraderie invading his body. Leave him alone with his horse, and Maverick felt at peace. Something he’d struggled with for the past three years.

  He spent the next half hour checking on the three other horses they stabled, then looking in on the rest of the ranch’s menagerie. Their family of animals was small but mighty. Just one look at George, their smart-as-a-whip mule who half the time thought he was a dog, had visitors at the ranch gushing and enjoying themselves, whether they were animal lovers or not.

  “Hey, George.” Not two seconds later, the mule stood all up in Maverick’s personal space, stepping on Mav’s toes—literally—nibbling on his arm in affection, and demanding ear scratches. George had absolutely no boundaries when it came to physical contact, which five times out of ten delighted people.

  “You keeping an eye on Barley for me?”

  George nodded. Seriously. And admittedly, the animal had a yes answer for every question, but the gesture still went a long way to bringing smiles to people’s faces.

  Maverick canted his head to look around George. His sweet Barley lay in her usual spot in the sun, sleeping. The golden-shepherd mix was due to give birth in the next week, and everyone looked forward to having puppies on the ranch again.

  The timing wasn’t exactly perfect for Mav, since he had a plane to catch in two weeks, but they’d be loved enough without him there. He gave George one last pat, then stepped around him to take a seat on the ground next to Barley, legs straight out in front of him.

  If things had gone according to plan, Maverick would have a veterinary practice right about now. Most days he didn’t let the thought bother him, but seeing the dog he’d rescued on the side of the road, then nursed back to health, and knowing what anniversary loomed next week, he couldn’t help but let a moment of melancholy creep into his head.

  Sensing his presence, Barley shifted and laid her head on his thigh. He gently petted her, her soft fur running through his fingers. “How you feeling, girl?” Her body temperature this morning registered normal, and she’d had no loss of appetite when fed, both signs labor hadn’t started yet. “We’ve got a pool going, you know. Date of birth and number of puppies.” He resisted the urge to palpate her tummy for a count. Chances were he’d miss one or two anyway and not know for sure until the little wigglers started coming out. “I’m down for five puppies on the tenth. Think you could make that happen? The stakes are high.”

  Winner received a homemade pie from Baked on Main. And considering Maverick was leaving town for at least two months, he really wanted that pie.

  Not that it was the best pie in town. No one baked better than his mom.

  He should tell her that.

  Maybe he would.

  Probably he wouldn’t. Compliments from him made her tear up. Especially lately, since she knew he might not be back on the ranch for longer than those eight weeks.

  He pulled down his cowboy hat to better shield his face from
the warm sun, let out a deep breath, dipped his chin, and closed his eyes. He dreamed about what he always did when he felt especially wistful: a deep green meadow, long blades of grass beneath his feet, and the beautiful, extraordinary woman who laughed when she put her toes in the cold creek, and who had loved him until her last breath.

  Chapter Four

  Six days until the wedding

  “Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re here.”

  Kennedy opened her eyes in time to see a sign on the side of the road that read Windsong: Population 9230.

  “I’m not sleeping. Just resting my eyes,” she clarified, staring out the passenger-side window. Rolling green hills dense with trees reminded her she wasn’t in the City of Angels anymore but on a mission—Operation Talk-To-Reed-Before-It’s-Too-Late. She’d tried again and again to reach him before hatching this out-there plan, but he still wasn’t answering any of her phone calls or texts.

  “Sorry, Charlie, but the snoring gave you away,” her best friend, Andrew, said.

  She rolled her head to the side to look at him in the driver’s seat. “I do not snore.”

  “That’s what everyone who snores says.” He took his eyes off the road to flash her the smile that had earned him his first toothpaste commercial. Then, returning his attention to the road, he made a very loud, very objectionable snorty-grunty sound.

  “Shut up! I do not sound like that.” Hopefully.

  Friends since she saved him from choking on a hot dog in high school, they both knew his teasing was nothing new. They’d road-tripped numerous times over the years and he always drove so he didn’t get carsick. Which left Kennedy to passenger, and okay, occasionally sleep a little. Not that she’d just been sleeping. Or snoring.

  She sat up taller as he slowed to drive through the quaint town of Windsong. Charming shops and restaurants lined both sides of the street. Massive oak trees stretched above rooflines, their branches grazing blue-striped awnings. Late-afternoon summer sunlight glistened off store windows. A line of people stood outside a shop called Baked on Main.