all gathered to celebrate a wedding tomorrow.
Hers.
A wedding she didn’t want.
The memories of the nightmare with Cal hadn’t yet faded and her father, the far- too-wealthy Rance Braddock was, if nothing else, like a tidal wave that swallowed people up. He was suffocating her with his protective kindness. And then there was T.J.
Elliott, her father’s choice for a “safe” and well-connected husband. A way to guarantee her future. No danger there.
Not like Cal, the worst mistake she’d ever made. And she’d wanted safe. Needed it.
Her father and T.J. treated her like some child too fragile to be let out on her own. Well, maybe she was. Look what she’d gotten herself into. And didn’t want to get out of, until she’d had no other choice. Now, at thirty, she suddenly didn’t seem to be able to put one foot in front of the other anymore.
Until now.
The bad part about being rescued from a situation like the one she’d been in was people were afraid to take their eyes off you. She didn’t even seem to have the strength to tell them they could look away. She went along to get along, letting herself be swept up in a courtship she didn’t want and a wedding suddenly bearing down on her like a tornado.
She’d come to the bar a few nights ago with her girlfriends who had practically dragged her out of the house.
“Have fun,” her father said.
“You’ll be fine with the girls,” T.J. told her. He’d kissed her on the cheek and teased, “Last night out before becoming Mrs. Elliott.”
She was safe with her friends. Girl’s night out was okay. Both her father and T.J. had relaxed.
But her friend Lili had whispered in her ear, “Wait until you see Grady Sinclair.
He’s hot, hot, hot. And his music!” Lili rolled her eyes. “Just listening to him makes your pussy get wet and your nipples poke like diamonds.”
Erin had shivered, skeptical but hopeful. She didn’t think she’d ever have that reaction again. Or want it. The best thing about T.J. was he was nonthreatening. She could always fake orgasms. She’d become a very good actress living with Cal.
So she’d let them coax her out and come to Smoky’s with them and damn but Lili was right. Wrapped in the almost mystical cloak of the music that drifted to her from the stage she’d felt stirrings that she’d thought long dead. Responses she didn’t think she was capable of anymore. And then she’d come back with them. Again and again, to hear the troubadour with eyes an incredible blue and a rugged face, drawn by the clear, mesmerizing notes of his songs and the sadness in his voice.
Tonight when the reality of what was happening in her life crashed in on her, when she’d felt herself squeezed by the juggernaut rolling over her, she suddenly had to get out, get away. For once no one’s eyes were on her. Her father and T.J. were both busy in the mob of guests with their pre-wedding celebration. How easy it had been to slip into the kitchen and out the back door. With all the vehicles coming and going no one paid attention to another tuck pulling out of the driveway.
And she’d headed straight here like a homing pigeon, to the cowboy minstrel whose music gave her the first real pleasure she’d ever known. A pleasure all her own.
So now here she sat, listening to him sing about love lost, a heart broken. Cruelty. Well, she certainly knew about that.
The waitress came by and she ordered a soft drink. She didn’t drink alcohol anymore. Not since…
Don’t go there. Do. Not. Go. There.
The song ended and he moved right into the next one. This was about loving and being free, about giving and being given, and something in the words unlocked a part of her she’d kept stored away. Freed the emotional cage she’d been keeping herself in.
Free. That’s what she needed to be. And the ranch and T.J. would never give her that.
She saw it so clearly now. It had been eight months since she’d come home to the ranch.
Eight months away
Hers.
A wedding she didn’t want.
The memories of the nightmare with Cal hadn’t yet faded and her father, the far- too-wealthy Rance Braddock was, if nothing else, like a tidal wave that swallowed people up. He was suffocating her with his protective kindness. And then there was T.J.
Elliott, her father’s choice for a “safe” and well-connected husband. A way to guarantee her future. No danger there.
Not like Cal, the worst mistake she’d ever made. And she’d wanted safe. Needed it.
Her father and T.J. treated her like some child too fragile to be let out on her own. Well, maybe she was. Look what she’d gotten herself into. And didn’t want to get out of, until she’d had no other choice. Now, at thirty, she suddenly didn’t seem to be able to put one foot in front of the other anymore.
Until now.
The bad part about being rescued from a situation like the one she’d been in was people were afraid to take their eyes off you. She didn’t even seem to have the strength to tell them they could look away. She went along to get along, letting herself be swept up in a courtship she didn’t want and a wedding suddenly bearing down on her like a tornado.
She’d come to the bar a few nights ago with her girlfriends who had practically dragged her out of the house.
“Have fun,” her father said.
“You’ll be fine with the girls,” T.J. told her. He’d kissed her on the cheek and teased, “Last night out before becoming Mrs. Elliott.”
She was safe with her friends. Girl’s night out was okay. Both her father and T.J. had relaxed.
But her friend Lili had whispered in her ear, “Wait until you see Grady Sinclair.
He’s hot, hot, hot. And his music!” Lili rolled her eyes. “Just listening to him makes your pussy get wet and your nipples poke like diamonds.”
Erin had shivered, skeptical but hopeful. She didn’t think she’d ever have that reaction again. Or want it. The best thing about T.J. was he was nonthreatening. She could always fake orgasms. She’d become a very good actress living with Cal.
So she’d let them coax her out and come to Smoky’s with them and damn but Lili was right. Wrapped in the almost mystical cloak of the music that drifted to her from the stage she’d felt stirrings that she’d thought long dead. Responses she didn’t think she was capable of anymore. And then she’d come back with them. Again and again, to hear the troubadour with eyes an incredible blue and a rugged face, drawn by the clear, mesmerizing notes of his songs and the sadness in his voice.
Tonight when the reality of what was happening in her life crashed in on her, when she’d felt herself squeezed by the juggernaut rolling over her, she suddenly had to get out, get away. For once no one’s eyes were on her. Her father and T.J. were both busy in the mob of guests with their pre-wedding celebration. How easy it had been to slip into the kitchen and out the back door. With all the vehicles coming and going no one paid attention to another tuck pulling out of the driveway.
And she’d headed straight here like a homing pigeon, to the cowboy minstrel whose music gave her the first real pleasure she’d ever known. A pleasure all her own.
So now here she sat, listening to him sing about love lost, a heart broken. Cruelty. Well, she certainly knew about that.
The waitress came by and she ordered a soft drink. She didn’t drink alcohol anymore. Not since…
Don’t go there. Do. Not. Go. There.
The song ended and he moved right into the next one. This was about loving and being free, about giving and being given, and something in the words unlocked a part of her she’d kept stored away. Freed the emotional cage she’d been keeping herself in.
Free. That’s what she needed to be. And the ranch and T.J. would never give her that.
She saw it so clearly now. It had been eight months since she’d come home to the ranch.
Eight months away
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