I shake my head, wondering if I just lost my best friend.
Maddox comes over and flicks my cowboy hat off my head. I catch it and put it back on in irritation.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “You look like your dog died.” He peers at Aaron and back at me. “I get it. He’s married now. You’re wondering if you’ve lost your place. Believe me, you have. But you and Aaron have a strong friendship. He’s not going to leave you hanging.”
Amber is sitting at a table alone. I nod to her. “Can you tell me about her?”
He follows my gaze. “Amber? I guess you could say she’s our cousin. By birth, anyway. My Aunt Piper had a traumatic experience as a teenager, ended up pregnant, and put her up for adoption. They found each other through the adoption registry when Amber turned eighteen, but their relationship seems strained. I’m surprised she showed for the wedding. She usually turns down invitations to family gatherings.”
“So you’re not that close?”
“No.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I…?”
He laughs. “Seriously?”
“She’s hot.”
He glances over. “I guess she is. You’re both adults here. Who am I to say what you can and can’t do?”
“Sweet.” I grip his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
“If anyone asks, I did not just give you my blessing. I’m only saying that I won’t give you another black eye to match the one you already have.”
“Noted.”
I pick up a couple glasses of champagne and walk over to Amber’s table. “Is this seat taken?”
She smirks. “Not if you brought one of those for me.”
“Have them both if you want.”
She holds out a hand. “One is fine.”
“I’m Quinn.”
She takes a sip. “Amber.”
“I’m the best man.”
“I can see that.”
I mentally smack myself. Duh. Everyone here knows I’m the best man. Damn, I’m really off my game. Must be the setting. “And you’re the long-lost cousin?”
“If you must put a label on it.”
“I don’t put labels on anything.”
She sits back and gazes at me over the rim of her glass as she drinks. “Me neither. What’s with the black eye? Were you in a fight?”
“With a fifteen-hundred-pound horse.”
She narrows her eyes at me.
“I rodeo,” I say. She still seems confused. She’s obviously not from around here. “I ride broncs. You know, I try to stay on the back of a horse while he tries to buck me off.”
“Like bull riding?”
“Sort of. Except with horses.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“It can be.”
“That’s sexy,” she says, staring at the bruise.
My groin tingles. “If you think this one is hot, you should see the one on my ribs.”
Her eyes instantly go to my chest, then lower. Holy shit, this woman is ready to eat me for dinner. I think I found my goddamn soul mate.
“I’ve never been to a wedding where everyone wears cowboy hats.”
“Guess you’ve never been to Texas before, then.”
“First time.”
“How did I not meet you until today? I thought I flew everyone over from the airport.”
“I got in this afternoon. Took an Uber.” She sets down her empty glass. “Wait. You’re the helicopter pilot I’ve been hearing about?”
I smile wryly. “I see my reputation precedes me.”
“If you mean how you like to fuck ’em and chuck ’em, then yes.”
I about spit out my drink.
“I’ve been here less than a day, and I’ve already heard an earful.” She nods to the catering staff circulating with hors d’oeuvres. “When I was checking out the venue earlier, they were talking about you as they set things up.”
I recognize a few of the women in uniform as past conquests. “I’m not sure what to say to defend myself.”
She gets up. “It’s okay, Quinn. I like to fuck ’em and chuck ’em too.” She takes her glass and walks away.
Chapter Two
Amber
I’m not sure why I came. I feel so out of place. Everyone here grew up together. Even the people on the ranch seem like they’re one big family. Big family. The words roll around in my head. It’s not anything I’ve ever been a part of. It’s been just Dad and me since I was two years old. And now it’s just me. Dad isn’t Dad anymore. He hasn’t been for a while. In fact, the memory care facility encourages me not to visit too often because it upsets him. He doesn’t believe he has a daughter, and he accuses me of being after his money when I visit. Money he doesn’t even have.
He and Mom adopted me the day I was born. I don’t remember her. She lives in the stories Dad would tell me and the pictures in my albums. Dad was always strong for me, until he couldn’t be. Now, though, it’s hard for me to remember him as the indestructible god-like heart surgeon who saved so many. But he couldn’t save himself, and it kills me to see him wasting away.
I watch Piper from across the arena. She’s my birth mom. We met ten years ago, when I was eighteen. Meeting her was like a fairy tale. She has this perfect husband and these perfect children. And then there’s me. Where do I fit in? It’s like trying to put a square peg in a round hole. She tries to be friendly and not overbearing, and she includes me when she can. She invites me to the famous Mitchell family brunches sometimes. I rarely go, because: square peg.
“I’ve been informed it’s time for the toast,” the DJ announces. “Grab your glasses of champagne.”
Servers come around and hand out drinks. I happily take one.
Quinn takes the mic from the DJ while loosening his tie and top button. Sexy. Then he holds up a glass. People laugh as he tells jokes about Devyn and Aaron. I seem to be the only one not in on them. However, I’m focused less on his words and more on him. He’s gorgeous in a rugged kind of way. I never thought I’d be attracted to a cowboy. Then again, I’ve never met one. I try not to laugh at myself. After all, I’m attracted to all men, if only temporarily.
The bruise under his eye is getting darker by the minute. Rodeo. Bronc riding. Again—sexy. He finishes his toast, and people shout and drink. Quinn looks at me and raises his glass. I lift mine and we sip at the same time.
“Stupid cowboy thinks he’s God’s gift,” a passing waitress says.
“Excuse me?” I say.
She covers her mouth in guilt. “Oh, gosh. I didn’t think anyone could hear me.”
“It’s fine. I don’t know him. God’s gift you say?”
She rolls her eyes. “I mean, he kind of is in a way. Those looks. That body. And he really knows how to please a lady.” She sighs. Sighs! “But he’s a player. Probably has fifty STDs by now.”
“Are there even fifty STDs?” There’s not. There are over twenty, though. I should know. I’m tested for them often.