“Why didn’t you just tell me at the start?”
He thought about that, not wanting to blow her off with a shallow answer. “Guess I’m used to playing it close to my vest. Don’t talk about the family secrets and all that.”
She lowered her voice. “If we’re going to be family, we can’t have secrets.”
She had him there. He knew he needed to apologize. Would probably need to do it a few more times before all was said and done. Avery was the opposite of him when it came to that. She’d answer any question. Tell you her life story if you wanted to hear it. He loved to listen to her chat about growing up, her parents, her college days with Riley, Nora and Savannah—the works. She was so different from the other women he’d known. Netta and Sue had been best friends and liked to sit on a front porch and talk things over but not in the way Avery did. They spoke in low, measured tones, chuckling sometimes over a bit of shared history, sighing over the loved ones they’d lost. Growing up, his home had always been quiet. He’d been loved, but no one in his family could be called boisterous.
“I don’t want to keep secrets from you,” he said honestly.
“We—”
“Avery? You here?”
A half-dozen heads turned when Boone called out, approaching from the parking area.
“Who’s that man with Boone?” he heard Savannah ask.
“I don’t know,” Nora said.
Avery stood up slowly and shaded her eyes against the bright morning sun.
Boone spotted her and waved. “Hey, another backup husband showed up. I don’t know where they’re all coming from! Renata—this more of your work?”
“Came here all on my own,” the man following him announced. He was tall, lanky and dark-haired in jeans and a Western-style shirt. He had a strong jaw and the kind of blue eyes people took notice of. “And I’m no backup husband, either. Avery here is my wife. Got the paperwork to prove it.”
Oh, hell no, Avery thought.
What on earth was Brody Campbell doing here? And who was that following him from the direction of the parking lot? She squinted against the sun’s glare and groaned.
Sue had arrived.
Perfect.
“What’s all this?” Sue demanded as she strode up among them, immediately commanding everyone’s attention despite her diminutive stature.
Bile rose in Avery’s throat as she took in the implication of Brody’s words.
Married?
His wife?
No. It couldn’t be. It—
“I’m Brody Campbell,” the newcomer said cheerfully, sticking out a hand that Sue ignored. “Nice to meet you.” When it was clear Sue wouldn’t shake, he tipped his hat, instead. Avery remembered that hat. Remembered how intrigued she’d been to meet a real cowboy when she was eighteen.
She bit back another groan. There were no real cowboys in Vegas. What had she been thinking? She covered her eyes, peeked out between her fingers.
He was still there.
“What do you mean you’re Avery’s husband? I’m the one who’s supposed to marry her.” Gabe pushed to the front of the crowd that had gathered. Avery wished she could crawl under a rock, but it wasn’t Gabe she was worried about. She turned her head and peeked at Walker.
And wished she hadn’t.
“Sorry, kid, I’m not into sharing.” Brody spotted her. “There’s my girl! Come on, Avery, give me a big ol’ smooch. Been missing my baby.”
Avery dropped her hands. “Ugh—I am not your baby. And we’re not married. What are you even doing here?” Renata had to be behind this. Or Fulsom. Or Montague. Someone was messing with her, because the one thing she knew, she was not married to this man.
At least, she hoped like hell she wasn’t.
“You know this guy?” Gabe asked.
“Know me? Of course she knows me. We’re husband and wife. Where’s our tiny house?” Brody made a show of looking around. “Or do you want to marry all over again, sweetheart, so you can have that big white dress you said you wanted? Not that I minded what you were wearing the first time—it was awful cute.”
Were her cheeks scarlet? They felt like they were. “We’re not married,” she said again.
They couldn’t be.
“Check it out.” He shoved the papers he was holding into Boone’s hands. “Neutral observer,” he told Avery. “He’ll tell you the truth of the matter.”
Avery held her breath while Boone looked over the pages, not daring to look Walker’s way again. Where had that paperwork come from? What was Brody playing at?
“Looks legit,” Boone said finally. “Avery, that’s your signature, isn’t it?”
She stepped forward reluctantly and took a look. “I… guess.” It sure looked like hers. Memories she’d long repressed began to bubble up in her mind. Memories she hated.
“Baby, you’d had a few on our wedding night, but you weren’t that drunk,” Brody said loudly. “You signed the paperwork fair and square, just like I did. I’m still wearing my ring. What the hell did you do with yours?”
He flashed a wedding band. Avery shut her eyes against the unwelcome reminder, and more images appeared in her mind. Meeting Brody at a country and western bar where she wasn’t carded at the door, even though she was still dressed in her prom gown. Dancing and drinking for hours. His ridiculous proposal. Her assent. The cheap rings they’d bought at the chapel where they’d pretended to be wed. She’d thrown hers away when she’d woken up in a two-star motel the next morning blocks from the strip—
Alone.
“That paperwork can’t be real,” she said loudly. She wasn’t going to take this from a jerk who’d hit on a girl far too young for him. “It was a joke. The whole thing was a joke. We were blitzed. It was a silly thing to do. That’s all.”
She didn’t know why
