The elevator dings as the doors slide open on my floor, and I smile, imagining crawling back into bed. I hate that I had to leave her the morning after our wedding, but making it up to her is something to look forward to.
I slide my key into the card reader and push into the room. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and immediately, I know something’s wrong.
“Brinley?” I walk through the suite, looking for any sign of her, but even before I see the ring on the dresser, I already know she’s gone.
Prologue
Marston
“I hope you’re going to wipe that pissy look off your face before our dinner with the Gamble team,” Alec says from my office door. He scratches his dark beard and fails to hide the amused twitching of his lips.
I toss the invitation across my desk. “Given what just came up from the mailroom, I’m not sure you want me there.”
Alec strolls toward me and swipes up the linen-and-lace card detailing the upcoming Orchid Valley wedding. His eyes widen. “Is this—”
“Yes.”
“But . . .” He scrubs his free hand over his neatly trimmed beard. “Do you know if—”
“All I know for sure is my wife is getting married and has invited me to her wedding. Thoughtful, no?”
When I first opened the invitation, I was sure it was some sort of joke—a quirky way to apologize for walking away from me six months ago.
By the third time I read it, I wondered if it might be real. I don’t keep tabs on what’s happening in Orchid Valley, but the internet’s a thing, so it was easy enough to pull up the Orchid Valley Times, do a quick search for Brinley Knox, and . . . there it was. The evidence stared at me in bold print at the top of last month’s society page.
Brinley Knox and Julian Hallison announce engagement
My first instinct was to send the invitation through the paper shredder. It would certainly be satisfying, considering the care that was so clearly put into its production. The inner envelope is linen, tied with a thin lace bow, and the stationery is written in the finest calligraphy. Not computer-generated script—that wouldn’t do for a Knox—but meticulous hand lettering. How many of these are floating around in the world if the Knox family deigned to invite the punk kid who worked for them one year? Or maybe they invited me as a jab. I can just imagine Brinley’s mother insisting they send an invitation to the old town charity case. Not because I’ve made something of myself over the last eleven years, but because the old woman would want me to know Brinley’s off the market. She’d want to announce—in the most respectable way possible—that her daughter will never be mine.
Joke’s on you, old hag. She already is.
“Has she filed for a divorce?” Alec asks. He keeps rereading the invitation, as if the words might change. I might find it comical if I hadn’t just done the same damn thing.
“Not that I know of.”
“I told you not to let her walk away.” He waves the invitation in front of me. “See what happens when you don’t grow balls and go after the girl, Marston?”
“Glass houses and stone throwing, asshole.”
“This is different. She thinks she’s marrying this guy. In May.”
“I’m aware.” Just two months from now. The spring wedding high-school Brinley always dreamed of. I push out of my chair and straighten my tie. “Give the Gamble team my apologies. I’ll be in touch.”
A smile slowly stretches across Alec’s face. “Finally.”
Once, I promised Brinley that if she were mine, I’d never let her go.
I guess it’s time to return to Orchid Valley and remind my wife that I’m a man who keeps his promises.
Chapter One
Brinley
“Don’t look now,” Abbi Matthews says across from me, “but the world’s most beautiful man is standing at the bar, and he cannot take his eyes off you.”
We met up at my cousin’s bar tonight. Smithy’s is our favorite outside-of-work spot. It’s popular without being too loud or crowded, always clean, and my favorite idiot cousin owns the place and takes good care of us.
“Like, nine-out-of-ten fine,” she continues. “You’re so lucky.”
“I’m off the market, remember?”
“Hmm.” She frowns, her attention still on the other side of the bar. “That’s cool—I’ll take him for myself. If he ever stops staring at you.”
I laugh. If he’s looking at me and not her, he’s gotta be incredibly near-sighted. Abbi’s the kind of curvy beauty that inspires country songs and makes men stop in their tracks.
I wave the catering paperwork in front of her again. “Can we get back to business here? My wedding? The menu? You’re the one who insists I need to make some decisions, so heeeeelp.” I punctuate my whine with a smile, but she only laughs at me. Abbi and I have known each other since high school, but we were never super close until she dropped out of college and moved back to Orchid Valley. Once we found ourselves both working at The Orchid, we quickly became friends. She’s been by my side ever since.