The Trouble with Tomboys
approaching. Her smile fell flat. He wore slacks, a starched shirt, and a tie.
Damn it.
She couldn’t stand next to him and get married when she looked like this and he was decked out in that. “I need to change,” she said without preamble.
Lifting the wadded blouse in her hand, she added, “I just got sick all over my shirt.”
His blue eyes took in the shirt and then rose to her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she nearly snapped, trying to hold back her impatience. She needed to get a move on it, though, or she’d be late for her own wedding. “I just need to go home real quick and—”
“You look fine,” Grady interrupted.
She snorted. “Says the man whose damn-near
wearing a tux. Just look at us, Slim. Talk about mismatched.”
He merely quirked his lips at her distress. “I can’t imagine you owning a dress.”
“Because I don’t,” she said, appalled by the very idea. “But I do have some black slacks. I could—”
“B.J.,” he said, grasping her elbow. “It doesn’t matter what you wear. We’re still going to be married either way.”
B.J. blew out a breath. “Well, if you don’t care, then I certainly don’t give a rat’s ass.”
He grinned, and his smile immediately shot a spear of white-hot pleasure down her spine and through her arms and legs. God, she loved his full smile. It’d been in remission far too long. But what she liked even more was the fact she’d been the one to make his eyes crinkle and the corners of his lips tilt up.
“Amy always said you’d turn out beautiful,” he murmured, skimming a purely male, appreciative gaze down her body.
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B.J.’s heart stopped beating. For a full second, she could only gape. He’d just called her
beautiful...or at least implied it. Be still her heart, the man had complimented her. What a day this was turning out to be. First a smile, then a comment on her looks. She was starting to feel like an honest-to-God bride.
Afraid tears would follow, she bit down hard on the inside of her lip.
She was beyond grateful when a voice called,
“Grady!” from behind them, interrupting the
moment.
Both B.J. and Grady turned to find his younger brother approaching. Caine Rawlings was one year younger than her, but they’d shared a few classes in high school. He was a famous photographer who lived in some big city, she couldn’t remember which—maybe Dallas. But she hadn’t known he was going to show today.
Obviously, neither had Grady. He stared at his brother in shock. “What’re you doing here?”
Caine ignored the question until he’d folded Grady in a hard hug. Then he said, “I’m here to see you tie the knot. What do you think I’m doing here?”
Grady frowned in confusion. “I thought you
couldn’t make it.”
Caine snorted. “Like I was going to miss my big brother’s wedding.” Then he turned and grinned at B.J. “Especially to this wild thing.”
The two brothers were strikingly similar in
looks, but Caine was shorter—probably the same height as B.J.’s five ten—and he was stouter than Grady. Plus his playful blue gaze had nothing on the intensely hot look Grady could give.
Grinning at her, he murmured, “Banner,” and
pulled her into a hug, much the way he had Grady.
“Welcome to the family, kid.”
She couldn’t recall ever being hugged by Caine 180
The Trouble with Tomboys
Rawlings before. But it was strangely comforting, as if she really was welcomed into his circle of loved ones.
“Banner?” Grady repeated in confusion.
When B.J. glanced at him, she found him
frowning thoughtfully. It took him a second to realize what his brother meant. Then his eyes popped open wide.
“Is that what the ‘B’ in your name stands for?”
He swung toward his brother. “How in the world do you know her name?”
Caine merely grinned and gave a mischievous
shrug. When Grady turned back, pinning her with an accusing gaze, B.J. sighed.
“I lost a bet with him in high school,” she
explained with a roll of her eyes. “And the wager was for me to tell him what B.J. stood for.”
Grady looked back to Caine, apparently not
liking the fact his own brother knew more about her than he did.
“Hey, she made me swear not to tell anyone,”
Caine defended, still grinning.
Grady swung back to B.J. “What does the ‘J’
stand for?”
She sighed again. “Didn’t you pay attention to my name on the marriage license?”