Brenda Harlen - One Night With The Cowboy

Brie continued packing.

“Are you ever going to tell us what happened to make you leave Nevada and never want to return?” her friend asked gently.

“What can I say? I love New York.”

“I know that’s true, but I also know it’s not the whole truth.”

Brie sighed. “Maybe I should have told you—and Grace—a long time ago, but I was feeling too raw and vulnerable at first. And then, as time passed, I realized that my heartbreak wasn’t nearly as big a deal as it seemed.”

“It must have been a bigger deal than you’re pretending now,” Lily said. “Or the thought of going to Nevada wouldn’t have you strangling that dress the way you are.”

She immediately unclenched her hands and shook out the garment, then folded it neatly into her suitcase. “It wasn’t a big deal,” she insisted. “I simply fell in love with the wrong guy.”

“Why was he wrong?” her friend wondered.

“Our families were the Montagues and Capulets of Haven,” she explained. “And while the whole star-crossed lovers thing seemed incredibly romantic at the time, it didn’t end well.

“No big surprise there, of course, but I chose to walk away with a broken heart rather than put a dagger through it.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

“It was seven years ago,” she reminded Lily.

“Which doesn’t actually answer the question,” her friend noted.

“I’m not still in love with him,” she said, because she needed to believe it was true.

After more than seven years, she didn’t want to admit—even to herself—that Caleb Gilmore still owned the biggest piece of her heart.

* * *

Caleb Gilmore had been back to Las Vegas a handful of times since his impulsive trip with Brielle Channing seven years earlier. But each subsequent journey inevitably brought back memories of the first time.

And of Brie.

Of course, it was rare for a single day to pass without him thinking about her, because in Haven, there were reminders every way he turned. Driving past the high school, he couldn’t help but think about the first time they’d danced together. Riding up to Eagle Rock to herd a lost calf, he was reminded of their first kiss. And returning to Las Vegas brought back memories of the promises they’d made to each other so long ago. Promises that had obviously meant more to him than to her, since she’d broken every one of them within a few weeks of their return to Haven.

This time, he’d made the trip at the request of his childhood friend Joe Bishop, to serve as best man at Joe’s wedding. They’d arrived late the night before and checked into The Destiny—a newer luxury hotel on the strip that Joe had chosen because he was certain he was about to meet his destiny.

“Do you have the ring?” the groom-to-be asked, for the tenth time in as many minutes.

Caleb nodded. “I’ve got it,” he confirmed, as he’d done each time before.

“It was my grandmother’s,” his friend said. “She wore it every day for almost sixty years.”

And now he was ready to put that ring on the finger of a woman he’d known for less than six hours .

“You know this is crazy, right?” Caleb felt compelled to ask his friend.

“I know you think so,” Joe acknowledged. “But me and Delia have been chatting and gaming online for almost seven months, and I knew I loved her even before I saw her. Now that we’ve finally met, I have no doubt that she’s the woman I’m destined to be with for the rest of my life.”

“The rest of your life is a long time,” he warned.

“I hope so,” his friend said sincerely. “But if you’re not comfortable standing up for me, I can—”

“No,” Caleb interjected. “I want to do this. Because even if I do think this is more than a little impulsive, it’s obvious that Delia is just as smitten with you as you are with her.”

“Then why are you scowling?” Joe asked him.

He shook his head. “If I tell you, you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Tell me anyway,” his friend said.

Caleb slipped his arms into his jacket, then buttoned the front, tugged on the cuffs. “I caught a glimpse of a woman in the hotel lobby downstairs,” he finally admitted. “And I thought—for a minute—that it was Brie.”

“Brielle Channing ?”

He nodded.

Joe considered the admission for a moment before responding. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. I’m crazy for falling in love with a woman I met online seven months ago, but it’s okay that you’re still in love with the woman who walked away from you more than seven years ago?”

“I’m not still in love with her,” Caleb denied.

“Then forget about her,” Joe advised. “Because what happens in Vegas—”

“Stays in Vegas,” he finished, the marketing slogan being truer than even his buddy realized.

The groom-to-be grinned. “That’s right, my friend. And after the ceremony, I will be escorting my bride to the honeymoon suite, which means that this room is all yours.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Caleb said. Although the idea of spending the night with a random stranger held absolutely no appeal, admitting as much to his friend would only result in more questions about Brie—and he definitely didn’t want to go there.

“Good.” Joe adjusted his tie in the mirror. “Do you have—”

“Yes,” he interrupted. “I have the ring.”

“Okay.”

Caleb glanced at his watch and decided they had some time before they needed to head down to the chapel. The thick carpet of the luxury room muffled his footsteps as he crossed to the bar to retrieve two bottles of beer from the fridge.

“Do you have any idea what they charge for those?” the anxious groom asked, his preoccupation with his grandmother’s ring momentarily forgotten.

“No,” he admitted, as he uncapped both bottles and handed one to Joe. “But undoubtedly less than the champagne, and I thought you’d prefer to toast your marriage this way.”

“Can’t argue with that,” his buddy decided.

“To you and Delia,” Caleb said, lifting his bottle in the air. “May you have a long and happy life together.”

“And to my best friend,” Joe said, raising his drink. “I hope that someday you find your perfect match and feel as lucky as I do right now. In the meantime—” he grinned again “—I hope you at least get lucky.”

They tapped their bottles together and drank, then Joe went to escort his bride while Caleb headed to the chapel.

On his way, he passed one of the hotel’s three pools and lingered for a minute to admire the crystal clear water sparkling in the afternoon sun—and the numerous shapely female bodies in and around it.

He felt an unwelcome tug in the vicinity of his chest when he saw her there: the same woman he’d caught a glimpse of earlier. The woman he’d believed—for the space of one endless, aching heartbeat—was Brielle.

Of course, it wasn’t her. There were more than fifty hotels on the strip, and the odds that she might be vacationing in Las Vegas and staying at this particular hotel on the same weekend that he was here were...incalculable.

Whoever the woman was, she wasn’t Brie, and he had to stop imagining otherwise.

* * *

Brie stepped out of the water and reached for one of the thick, fluffy towels provided by the hotel.

Then her gaze lifted to his face, noted the light brown hair that showed hints of gold in the sun, the tanned skin and square jaw, the hazel eyes framed by thick lashes—eyes that seemed to be staring right into hers even through the dark lenses of the sunglasses perched on her nose.

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart actually skipped a beat before it resumed its rhythm, albeit a little harder and faster than before.