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Soon, the weeks and months slid away from him. He'd buried himself in his work, and for the most part, had forgotten about her. Then Nichole needed someone to represent her, and there was only one lawyer he'd ever trust with his family.

  Now here they were, driving down the old dirt roads they used to drive, and they were taking jabs at each other. Okay, he was taking the jab at her, but he needed to. He needed to hear her say exactly what she had. I don't talk to Jacob.

  "How is your sister?"

  He watched her defuse again, just as she had when he'd asked about her parents.

  "She's good. Expecting baby number three in a month or so."

  "Three? I still think of her as the lifeguard that chased us out of the wading pool."

  Ella laughed as the dirt road gave way to the pavement. "She did take her jobs very seriously."

  "It runs in the family."

  Ella shifted a glance his way and smiled. Once she'd decided to become a lawyer, she'd gone all in. He'd rarely seen her during college because she was so busy. And when it came time to take that lawyer test, she had disappeared entirely from his life, except for the occasional phone call so he could pep talk her.

  She'd inherited that work ethic from her father. The man had worked through a heart attack, and then when he was having surgery, he'd set up his office on his bed table. Gerald was glad to hear he was retired and fishing now. It seemed a waste of a perfectly good life to work so damn hard—only to almost die doing it.

  Ella turned the knob on the radio, turning down the volume now that the car wasn't on the gravel road.

  "I've enjoyed watching your cousins, and sisters-in-law build their businesses at the Bridal Mecca. That Lydia Morgan knows how to draw in business, doesn't she?"

  "She's incredible. It's a wonder no one has swept her off her feet."

  Ella laughed. "When would she have time to date? The woman works all the time. Not only does she run an event center, she's part owner in some brewery, and in her mother's event center too. I'm sure I'm missing some in there." Ella shook her head with a smile. "Ambitious. I've never known anyone like her."

  He did, but he was sure she wasn't vain enough to think of herself that way. "If she ever slowed down, maybe Phillip could catch her."

  "Officer Phillip Smythe? Are you crazy? She hates him."

  Now Gerald laughed. "That's what she says."

  "You don't believe it?"

  "I'm just saying. You never know what someone is thinking inside. Do you?"

  Gerald saw the color hit her cheeks first before her lips tightened. "I have a feeling you have a lot of things you'd like to say to me. You've just been saving up, haven't you? Is that why you wanted me to give you a ride? That way I'd be a captive audience for you?"

  "Is that what you think?" Suddenly his anger matched hers, and he hadn't even meant anything by what he said. But she brought it up, well then sure; he'd give her that ear full. "I have a lot to say. Where do you want me to start?"

  "Oh, please, start at the beginning."

  "You married Jacob." Those were the first words that came to mind and flew from his mouth. They'd start there then.

  "I sure did. I married Jacob." Now she reached over and turned up the radio, though he didn't know what good that was doing. Now they were shouting.

  "I want to know why you didn't marry me."

  "I told you why."

  "You gave me a great amount of bullshit about your career and getting settled in that. Fine. I bought that. So what did he offer that I didn't."

  "Nothing."

  "Then none of this makes any sense."

  "And you're hashing out something that is years old."

  "Still stings."

  She took a breath to say something else, and then her shoulders eased.

  "He wasn't you, and that was the selling point."

  "Oh, I'm such a bad guy?"

  "No," she said, and her voice was soft enough now that she turned back down the volume on the radio. "I couldn't marry you and take you away from the life you knew. Your family needed you, and I needed to do what was right for me. Marrying you would have destroyed one of us."

  "Yet we both now live in the same place. Funny how that worked out."

  He felt the pang of guilt settle in his belly when he noticed the tears pooling in her eyes.

  "I made a mistake, Gerald. I was young, and I needed someone who would blindly let me do what I needed to do."

  "When did I not?"

  She shook her head and wiped at the tears that now fell. "You always did. You always supported me. Why are we doing this? What happened happened. I gave you up, and I lost Jacob."

  "I don't think that was a big loss."

  Ella chuckled. "No. It wasn't. Maybe I did you a service taking him out of your life."

  He wanted to agree with that, but he couldn't. He'd rather have had Jacob, even on the side as a friend, and have married Ella. But she was right. It wasn't how it worked out, and he was the one suffering by talking about it.

  By the time they drove down Main Street toward Lydia's reception hall at the Bridal Mecca, the parking lot was full.

  "Why don't I just drop you off?" she suggested.

  "I can walk with you from wherever you find parking," he offered.

  "I think it would be better if I just went home."

  That guilt in his stomach grew even more cumbersome. "I didn't mean to…"

  "I know. It's for the best, Gerald. I don't think we're quite ready for that friendship we talked about."

  And he knew he was to blame for that. He'd been an ass bringing up Jacob and getting in his shots.

  Ella pulled up to the curb next to his cousin's hair salon, and he opened the door. "Are you sure you won't come inside? I'll save you a dance."

  "I'm sure," she said without even the slightest thought.

  Gerald stepped out of the car and lingered with his hand on her door. "I didn't mean to make it awkward. You've done a lot for my brother and sister-in-law. You deserve to be here."

  "It was my job."

  Gerald gave her another smile and shut the door. As she drove off, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Lydia watching Ella turn at the stop sign.

  "She's not coming in?"

  "It seems I have a way with the ladies and it's not a good way."

  Lydia threw back her head, her short crop of dark hair bouncing as she laughed. "C'mon, come dance with me. I have a full staff, and I feel like having a few drinks and dancing all night. Besides, Smythe is here, and I don't want him getting anywhere near me."

  Gerald laughed as she pulled him toward the door. "Are you sure you don't want him near you?"

  Her laughter stopped, and she shook her head. "Never been more sure about anything."

  Maybe it was just women. The thought humored him as Lydia pulled him again toward the door. When they made up their mind that they didn't want you, they just didn't want you. There was no reason to spend years wondering why. It was time to move on.

  Chapter 3

  When a woman drove away mad, all they wanted was a glass of wine and their best friend, Ella thought as she turned the next corner. Usually, that would work out for her. If she needed something, she'd head over to her best friend Candi's, and they'd watch reruns of Sex in the City, drink wine, and eat whatever was in the pantry. But she knew that Candi was at the reception, though she hadn't gone to the wedding.

  Now she was utterly alone.

  She'd left Gerald at the reception, and she'd seen how Lydia scooped him up the moment Ella pulled away from the curb.

  "Serves you right," she said to herself in her car as she pulled up to the ice cream parlor and contemplated a large scoop of chocolate ripple.

  Ella sat in her car for nearly twenty minutes before she thought better about the ice cream and backed out of the parking lot. Ordering Chinese takeout, however, seemed like a good solution to her misery. It wasn't any healthier than ice cream or wine, but perhaps more acceptable when she was alone and
wallowing in self-pity.

  As she set the food on the table, she took a moment to arrange the boxes so it would at least look like a nice dinner. She pulled down a plate from the cupboard and exchanged the wooden chopsticks for a pair her father had brought her from Japan on a business trip when she was a teenager.

  Her phone chimed as she filled a glass with ice water. She set it on the table as well as she searched her purse for her phone.

  Candi's name flashed on her screen.

  Ella gave some thought to whether or not to open the text message as she sat down at the table. Surely it had something to do with the reception. Did she want to go down that road?

  What did it matter? She knew she'd given up an excellent time by coming home, but she couldn't be with Gerald in the same room for the entire night. And, likewise, he didn't need her in his space either.

  Deciding that she'd read the message, she slid her finger across the screen of her phone to bring it up.

  Did you ditch? I saw him in your car. Why is he here and you're not? Next, an image appeared with Gerald and Lydia slow dancing, very closely. His hands were on the small of her back, and she was quite sure Lydia's fingers were in his hair. That seemed a bit intimate.

  Didn't think it was a good idea. The drive into town was long enough for both of us, she typed back and set her phone down as she pushed away the plate and went in after the orange chicken right from the container.

  She was glad she hadn't stayed. Lydia and Gerald could have an excellent time without her in the way.

  Tears burned in her eyes as she took another piece of chicken and shoved it in her mouth. It was stupid to get worked up over it all. She and Gerald had been over for years. She’d married someone else and moved on. There was no reason he shouldn't have moved on too. And if she didn't want to help the Walker family with their legal issues, then she should have picked a different town to move to, because Macon, Georgia was filled with Walkers.

  Gerald sucked down his third beer as he watched his brother pull the garter from Nichole's thigh. He looked for her sons, wondering what they thought of the spectacle and was happy to see they were huddled in the corner with their sister and his nephew watching something on an iPad.

  His cousin Todd grabbed his arm and started pulling him from the safety of his table where he enjoyed the buzz he'd put on.

  "If I have to go out there, so do you. There aren't many of us still single," Todd made his bid as he kept a firm grip on Gerald's shirt sleeve.

  "I'm coming. I'm coming. You can let go of me now."

  "Like hell. I know you'll run because I'd run too."

  "Smythe would never let us out the door. Look at him. He's like some general standing there."

  Todd laughed. "That's because he doesn't want to do this stupid ritual either."

  As the single men gathered on the dance floor, Gerald realized that he and Todd were the last of the Walker men to have to put up with wedding shenanigans like catching articles of clothing pulled from the bride. Gerald had a collection of garters from over the years, but he'd tucked them in a drawer. There hadn't been a woman who even made him think about getting married since Ella had turned him down. In his mind, women were all the same. They thought they knew what they wanted, but they didn't. They wanted to stay home and raise kids, but they wanted a career. They wanted to be equal, but they wanted to be pampered. They wanted to get married, but when you asked them, they turned you down and married your friends—loyal and trustworthy friends.

  There were times he thought it served her right to have married Jacob only to have him strut his manhood around to others. But then, he'd always feel guilty for that. He didn't much care for the fact that he'd befriended someone who could be such an ass and do that to his wife, even if his wife had been the one who had broken Gerald's heart and turned him down for marriage first.

  Live and learn, he supposed. He wasn't the only Walker man who had proposed to a woman only to have her go off with someone else.

  Maybe there was a curse that had been set forth on the Walker men years before he'd been born. One that said all Walker men should suffer first before they were allowed to pull a garter from the leg of their bride.

  The thought rolling in his head made him chuckle, just as his brother shot the garter over his shoulder and it hit Gerald right in the chest and fell to the floor.

  "Pick it up, sucker," Todd said with a whooping laugh. "Ain't no one else going to touch it."

  Gerald shook his head in disgust at his cousin before bending down to pick up the garter that now signified he'd be the next bachelor to tie the knot. But, as he had a drawer full of garters, he didn't buy into the myth.

  Realizing his buzz was quickly wearing off, he put the band on his arm and smiled as Lydia sauntered toward him with a beer in each hand. "Dance with me, cowboy."

  She handed him a bottle and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  When she decided to party instead of work, she let herself be free, he thought as she let her head fall back while she swayed against him.

  As he lifted his eyes to those who watched, he couldn't help but notice Phillip Smythe's stern look his way. The man loved the woman who hung from Gerald's neck. The entire town knew it, but they also knew Lydia Morgan couldn't stand the man who seemed to be everywhere she was.

  Gerald, on the other hand, seemed to be her flavor of the night. Well, that wasn't fair to her, he thought. She wasn't one to move from man to man, though she did her share of dating. Regardless of the Walker/Morgan dynamic, until his cousin married into the family, Lydia had always been a family friend.

  And even as she pressed herself to him in a way he'd never had her do before, he knew that she was just unwinding. He wasn't getting worked up about her hands on him, her breath in his ear or her body pressed to him so hard he feared his body would wake up from a deep slumber and cause a problem.

  When the music had died down, and the crowd disbursed to tables to eat more food, Gerald took Lydia by the hand.

  "Why don't we go for a walk and get some air?"

  She gazed up at him, her eyes clouded from beer and dance. "I could probably use some air."

  Gerald kissed the top of her head and walked her out the door past Phillip Smythe's warning glare.

  Chapter 4

  It hadn't gotten too muggy yet, Gerald thought as he and Lydia walked through the parking lot hand in hand. Georgia could be temperamental with her weather, but the night was just perfect.

  "I miss being a guest at parties," Lydia's words swayed with her body.

  "Let's go sit on that bench," he offered, steering her toward the bench between his cousins' businesses at the Bridal Mecca.

  "Maybe I should sell my company so I could be a guest more often."

  "You just need to let your staff take care of everything, just like you're doing tonight," he offered as they sat.

  "Yeah," she agreed and dropped her head on his shoulder.

  He humored himself thinking he was more comfortable outside with a drunk Lydia on his shoulder than he was in the crowded room with family and friends celebrating. Gerald wasn't a crowd-lover. He liked his space. Perhaps that's why he still lived on the ranch and worked alone most of the time.

  "Why aren't you married?" Lydia asked, lifting her head, her brown eyes gazing up at him.

  "I got turned down, remember?"

  "That was a long time ago." Her head dropped back to his shoulder. "You're a good-looking guy. You're nice. You're good looking," she repeated, and he chuckled.

  "Thanks."

  "I'd marry you in a minute. We could have a whole gaggle of kids, and I'd marry you."

  The grin that tugged at his mouth nearly hurt. "Thanks, Lydia. You're good looking and nice too."

  "I am. I'm freaking awesome."

  "You are."

  He wondered how much she'd had to drink, and now that she was pressed against his side, was he responsible for making sure she got home safe and tucked into bed?

  "Geral
d?"

  "Yes."

  She lifted her head again and turned, so they were face to face. "Do you like sex?"

  The question had him easing back and looking at her. Her cheeks were red, and so were the tips of her ears. Those beautiful brown eyes were glazed over as they looked up at him in a way he hadn't been looked at in a very long time.

  "I do."

  "So do I. I don't get enough sex."

  "That's sad."

  "It is sad. I'm too busy. I work too much."

  "You love what you do, and you own half the town."

  She smiled again and swayed her head from side to side causing him to put his hands on her arms so that she wouldn't fall off the bench.

  "I do own half the town. I'm freaking awesome."

  "That's what you said."

  "Have sex with me." The words came out as though they were part of a simple conversation and Gerald knew he'd stopped breathing.

  "Lydia, you are freaking awesome, but…"

  He didn't get the words out before she moved against him and kissed him. But it didn't stop there. She dropped her beer to the ground, and Gerald winced at the sound of it hitting the cement, but not breaking. Lydia shifted and deepened the kiss she was planting on him, and he quickly forgot about the bottle.

  God, he was only a man. He wasn't going to take this woman—his friend—to bed, but he sure did like the way it felt to have her lips on his, so he let it continue.

  People walked by, and cars drove along the street while she pressed her body against him and moved her mouth and tongue against his.

  Now his body had woken up, and to tell her no was going to kill him, nearly. But he would not have sex with Lydia Morgan. No, that wasn't going to happen.

  As she swayed back from him, her eyes still closed, she pressed her hands to both sides of her head. "Oh, Lord."

  "Yeah."

  "No. I'm going to be sick."

  He managed to get her to her feet and to a bush at the end of the building before she did get sick. The fringe of her short hair matted to her face as she leaned up against the wall.

  "And this is why I work harder than I play," she said before throwing up in the bush again.