To Have and to Hold (The Wedding Belles #1)(81)

“Etta said you weren’t feeling well?” she asked, closing the door and coming into the room. She was wearing jeans today that outlined her every perfect curve, tucked into knee-high brown boots with a soft-looking blue sweater that made her eyes seem even brighter than usual.

Damn, she was beautiful.

“Just a headache,” he said, standing and going around the desk to kiss her cheek.

She placed a hand on his cheek before he could pull away, searching his features with narrowed eyes. “Seems like more than just a headache. What’s wrong?”

Everything.

Everything was wrong.

His sister was marrying an imposter with a gambling addition, and Brooke was about to find out that the man she was supposed to marry had opted to marry someone else rather than contact her with a motherf*cking apology.

“Just a long day is all,” he said, looking away from her.

Brooke bit her lip, and for the first time, he registered that he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t himself. Brooke also seemed more tense than usual.

For a moment he wondered if Tommy Franklin had been wrong, and if news of Clay’s engagement to the jail bunny had already broken.

But no. She didn’t look broken so much as nervous.

“Come sit with me a sec,” she said, taking his hand and tugging him toward the couch that was strangely sort of becoming their place. For a piece of furniture he’d barely touched since moving into this space, it was getting plenty of use these days.

Seth glanced at his watch regretfully. “I can’t. I’m supposed to be at a meeting in four minutes.”

“Etta’s rescheduling it.”

He blinked. “She’s what? Why?”

Brooke took a visibly deep breath. “Because I told her what I was here to tell you.”

The weariness that had been threatening to choke him receded as Seth’s body went on high alert. “Tell me.”

She gave a nervous smile and moved around to the couch to sit. “Let’s at least sit down.”

Seth didn’t budge. The pulsing in his temples was back full force, the medicine completely inadequate against the pure shit that was this day.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered as she stood back up. She kept the coffee table between them, and he didn’t register that he’d crossed his arms until he watched her mimic his stance.

He had the vague sense that he was being an ass, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how to unwind. How to ease the tension, or stifle the sense of dread, or even how to wipe the wariness off her face. Seth just needed to have all the facts, needed people to stop hiding stuff from him and tiptoeing around, and f*cking lying.

“Brooke, for God’s sake, just say—”

“Maya and Neil moved up the wedding.”

Seth didn’t move. “They what?”

Brooke licked her lips nervously but didn’t look away from his glare. “The wedding’s going to be in March.”

“March?” His voice came out as a roar. “It’s the f*cking end of February.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the date,” she said coolly.

“Shit,” he grumbled. “That f*cking bastard is behind this. Did she flip when you told her no? She’ll calm down, just give her a bit of time. I can’t believe this.”

“I didn’t tell her no, Seth.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? You can’t pull off a wedding in a few weeks.”

“Of course I can.”

“Well, you shouldn’t! Not when it’s this wedding.”

“That’s not your call.”

“It sure as hell is. Did you forget who’s paying for this?”

“No,” she snapped. “Not for one minute, because you can barely go that long without reminding me. But as I’ve told you a million times, my first commitment is to the couple getting married, and if they want to get married in March, it’s my job to give them their happily ever after, on whatever timeline they want.”

He groaned and dropped his arms to his sides before lifting them to link behind his head, turning in a circle as he tried to rein in his spitting emotions. “Are you f*cking kidding me with that? The happily ever after shit? Still?”

A little flicker of hurt passed over her face, but it was quickly masked by irritation. “Yes, that shit, still. I know you’re determined to think that all people are crap on the inside, but you’re wrong. People are good, and happy endings are possible.”

“Says the woman who walked down the aisle toward a con man,” he muttered under his breath.

But not all the way under his breath, unfortunately.

Brook gasped, flinching as though he’d struck her.

“Shit. Brooke, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did,” she said, straightening her spine and resuming her defensive posture, which was now infused with a healthy dose of anger. “You did mean it. Just let it out now, Seth. Get it out of your system. You think that because I made a mistake with Clay that your sister must be making the same mistake with Neil, right? Is that how the cynic’s mind works?”

“Yes!” he exploded. “Yes, that’s exactly how the cynic’s mind works, and damn it, Brooke, this cynic was right.”