Chapter One
Hannah
“I’ll kill him,”Blaise said.
Her brother wore a smile for the benefit of anyone watching, but Hannah Brand knew he was serious. As a teenager, he’d always been too quick with his fists. Maybe the meet-and-greet for their baby sister’s bridal party hadn’t been the best place to tell him about Tim’s affair, but he’d asked why Tim wasn’t with her and she’d stumbled.
Heat stretched the skin too tight on her cheeks as she struggled through a fresh wave of shock over discovering someone she’d loved since she was fifteen had cheated on her with a woman from his work. Then, since getting that off his chest must have felt good, he’d told her there’d been another girl right after they’d first moved in together.
She didn’t tell Blaise that part, though. She didn’t want him going to prison.
“Don’t say anything, please,” she begged him. “I don’t want to upset Alayna.” Not so close to the wedding, when Alayna was already stressed about her mother-in-law-to-be’s control issues. Mrs. Campbell had turned the wedding into Sweetheart’s social event of the year and poor, shy Alayna was out of her depth.
“Alayna is fine. Tim’s the one you should worry about.” Blaise tossed a piece of cubed cheese from the buffet beside them into his mouth. “I’ve always hated that asshole.”
Hannah hated him too, and for more than the affairs, although those were definitely the worst. They’d been in the process of buying a building in Grand, Montana, to convert into a brewery. She’d worked hard to become the head brewer at her job in Bozeman in preparation. She’d put him through college so he could manage their business. She’d drafted the business plan he’d used as a class project. They’d been set to move out on their own. And now this.
“Where does this leave you and your brewery?” Blaise asked, tapping into her thoughts with the uncanny sixth sense of a sibling.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Blaise’s gaze drilled into her. “Don’t give up on your dreams, Hannah. You don’t need him. You never did. He needed you.” Their older brother Damon, across the main room in the Bar-No Sweetheart Ranch lodge where the Campbells were hosting the party, raised an arm and signaled for Blaise to join him and the groom. They were up to something—something to do with the wedding—but Hannah didn’t know what. “Don’t you give up,” Blaise commanded again, touching her arm.
He moved off, leaving her alone at the buffet. She clutched her empty plate like a shield, summoned a smile she didn’t feel, and prepared to mingle with other guests. The crowd was small, confined to the bridal party and their significant others.
She no longer had one of those. A flutter of panic tickled her throat. She didn’t know how to be single. Maybe she could sneak out without anyone noticing. Blaise would make excuses for her.
Before she could act, one of the groomsmen approached the buffet and cut off her exit. They’d never met, but since she’d met everyone else, he had to be Dallas Tucker. Alayna talked about him quite a bit. He liked to tease her—probably because she was shy—and she thought he was funny. He’d recently opened a small medical practice in Sweetheart.
Alayna hadn’t mentioned how attractive he was, however. Tall, with black, curly hair, and direct hazel eyes set against sharp cheekbones and full, sexy lips, he looked more like an underwear model than a small-town family physician.
And he was looking at her in a way that said he liked what he saw.
“Hey,” he said, leaning past her to grab a plate. His shoulder brushed hers—cool, crisp cotton against bare, sensitive skin. “You must be Hannah. I hear you and I will be walking down the aisle together.”
Funny. She saw why Alayna liked him so much.
“And you must be Dallas. Alayna calls you Doctor Dancy Pants,” she replied, blurting it out because her brain couldn’t believe he was flirting with her and didn’t know how to react.
“Not to his face, I don’t!” Alayna, who was standing within earshot, protested, her cheeks turning bright red.
“Interesting,” Dallas said, still focused on Hannah. Amusement, not embarrassment, colored his tone. “Did she explain why?”
“No, but I assumed it’s because you like to dance.”
“I do. In fact…” He dug out his phone, flicked his thumb over the screen, and seconds later, her favorite James Arthur song had heads turning toward them. He tucked the phone into his shirt pocket. Then he took her empty plate and set it on the table along with the one he hadn’t used. “If we’re going to hit the floor at the wedding together, I think we should put in some practice while we still can. What do you say?”
Her stupid brain came up blank. She’d run out of witty responses. Spontaneity wasn’t one of her strengths and she’d used up about thirty years’ worth of reserves. And while it was flattering, particularly right now, Dr. Tucker was coming on a bit stronger than she was used to, as well.
Then, she heard Tim’s voice in her head. “All you do is work. You aren’t any fun, anymore. When’s the last time we had sex?”
They might have had it more often if he wasn’t already having it with somebody else.
Something inside Hannah snapped. She could be fun. She could be spontaneous and bold. And here was a smart, sexy man offering up the perfect opportunity to prove it.In your face, Tim Ryder. I’ll show you fun.
She ratcheted up her smile and met those intense, hazel eyes. She let interest slide into hers. She reached for his hand. She liked the feel of his fingers and the firm way they closed around hers.
“I say lead on, Dr. Tucker. Practice makes perfect.”