Ramagos, Tonya - Strictly Accountable [Stud Service 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (18 page)

Utter madness.

Brody doubted two words in any language could describe the scene at the Holt’em Up Ranch more aptly than utter madness. Women—tall to short, large to small, old to young—scampered across the grounds, setting up enough tables and chairs to seat the entire city of Chattanooga. Everywhere he looked, he saw flowers being draped, stuck, or somehow affixed to something. Strings of lights hung from nearby trees, courtesy of his ranch hands, William Gibson, and the ladder they pulled from the barn. A freaking horse-shaped fountain stood in the center of a makeshift dance floor. The mere thought of dancing made his feet hurt.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Brody shot a glance to his right and found his oldest sister, Megan, standing at his side. “What?”

“All of it, the way they’re transforming the ranch into a wedding paradise.”

“Looks more like a chaotic circus to me,” Brody muttered, but his lips twitched when his sister laughed.

“This coming from the fairy-tale prince.” Megan hooked a hand on his shoulder and used it for leverage to rise to her tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t go getting all sour on us now that you’re going to be a taken man.”

Brody slipped an arm around his sister’s waist and pulled her close. “Never. I’m still the same sap you girls turned me into one-by-one the day you were born.” Even sappier now that he’d fallen in love and didn’t know what to do about it. He had hooked the woman he wanted, planted his seed in her belly, propositioned to hold onto her for the duration, and still couldn’t figure out how in the hell to convince her he wanted more.

Megan beamed up at him. “We did a good job of transforming you, too.”

A shout from across the way drew their attention. Maria Gibson covered a long distance in a short amount of time, despite the lesser height of her Spanish heritage. She met Carlotta as the other woman stepped out of the back door of the main house from the kitchen.

“Those two hit it off like white on rice,” Brody commented, watching as the women conversed in a steady flow of dialogue complete with generous head movements and hand gestures. They talked as if they had been friends half their lives, seeming to know precisely what the other expected, and easily giving in to the other’s suggestions.

“Mrs. Gibson reminds you of Mom, doesn’t she? Not in physical appearance, of course, but in mannerisms and spirit.”

Yes, Maria Gibson reminded Brody a lot of their mother. Cynthia Holt had been a tall, voluptuous brunette. She’d been a definite contrast to Maria Gibson’s much shorter, more average physique. Mannerisms and spirit, however, could’ve made them twins.

“If Mom were here, we would probably have a female set of the three stooges on our hands when she got together with those two.” The image the idea created made his throat tight and called upon an emptiness he tried not to recognize too often.

Megan nudged him, bumping her shoulder into his arm. “Have you told her yet?”

Brody blinked down at her, confused. “Told her what?”

“How much you love her.” A sly grin unfolded on Megan’s lips, her eyes twinkling with a knowing mischief that rang Brody’s warning bells.

Brody cocked a brow. “Mrs. Gibson? I just met her. Now why would I want to go and profess my undying love to a married woman I met only a few days ago?”

“Hardy har har.” Megan rolled her eyes, but she laughed all the same. “I’m talking about Sabrina, you dope.”

“Sabrina?” Brody’s confusion deepened for all of a half a second, before he remembered he’d never been able to pull the wool over either of his sister’s eyes. They always saw right through him. Megan knew. Somehow she had found out he and Sabrina were already married, that they hadn’t tied the knot for love, and that he was now hook, line, and freaking sinker in love with her but hadn’t told her.

He heaved a sigh, turning until he fully faced his sister. “How?”

Megan shrugged. “I’m friends with the preacher’s daughter.”

“How convenient,” Brody muttered, not knowing if he should be pissed or worried.

“For me, at least.” Megan’s grin spread wider before she sobered. “Look, she overheard her father talking the day you and Sabrina got married. She then relayed the news to me.” She shrugged. “Simple as pie.”

“Who else knows?” He scanned the backyard, his gaze landing on every person scattered around the grounds, wondering how many of them knew the truth. Was it possible the ruse was on him and Sabrina and not on the guests they invited, whom they believed oblivious to the fact that they were already married?

“Not a soul.” Megan sounded so confident he believed her. “I threatened Peggy within an inch of her life and exposure of several dirty little secrets I know that would make our happy town frown big on a sweet preacher’s daughter. She won’t talk. Your secret is safe.” She angled her head and narrowed her eyes. “But why the secret, big brother?”

“It’s complicated.” Brody looked away, his mind reeling. Hell, he could barely remember why they started this arrangement as a secret anymore.

“You’re married.” Megan clicked her tongue and gestured to the yard at large. “Yet, here you are acting as though you’re not, repeating the whole process in a much more elaborate manner, and you haven’t told her you love her because…?”

“She won’t believe me if I tell her.” The truth spilled from his lips before he could bite it back. Fuck it, he needed someone to tell. Why not a sister he always adored? “She thinks I only got into this for the sex and, hell, I don’t know, a portion of her trust fund, I guess.”

“What led her to think that?”

Brody pushed out a hard breath. “Maybe some things I said in the beginning, the way I handled the situation.”

“It sounds to me like you should find a way to set her straight.”

“I’ve been trying. All that sappy crap you girls pounded into my head all those years, it isn’t working with Sabrina.” He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “If you’ve got any ideas, Megan, I’m all ears because I’m fresh out of everything else.”

“Actually…” Megan tapped a fingernail on her bottom lip, and he could all but see the wheels tumbling in her mischievous mind.

* * * *

Sabrina took several steps forward, spun on her heel, and retraced those exact steps for what likely amounted to the fiftieth time since she entered the guest bedroom on the top floor of the main house at Holt’em Up Ranch. She remembered vividly the last time she paced a room this way. The space then had been much smaller, the room totally different, but the cause could be pinned on one man the same as it could be now.

Brody.

Then she had wrung her hands, waiting out the seconds to find out whether or not he got her pregnant. Now she would like to wring his neck instead. The nerve of that man!

“Alpha, controlling, ornery, caveman cowboy,” she muttered, her steps taking on more force as her temper rose. She turned at the poorly stifled snicker behind her.

“Sorry, Brina.” Savannah gave an obvious and valiant attempt at a straight face but failed miserably. “It’s just funny to hear that sort of stuff coming from you. I’m the one who always complained about cowboys.”

“Right up until the day she married one,” their mother agreed.

Savannah shot Maria a look. “Oh, I still complain about them. Now I just say what I have to say to my cowboy husband’s face.”

“Maybe that’s what you should do, Sabrina,” Megan suggested.

Sabrina studied Brody’s sister. The oldest of the three Holt girls, she instantly pegged Megan as the stronger, more opinionated, more headstrong of the sisters. Sabrina didn’t think it had anything to do with the fact that Megan worked for the Chattanooga Police Department either.

“Maybe what’s what I should do?” she asked, feeling a sliver of caution she couldn’t quite put to a cause.

Megan shrugged before leaning a shoulder against the nearby wall and crossing her arms nonchalantly under her breasts. “Tell your husband, or soon-to-be hubby, if you want to think of him that way, what you have to say to his face.”

A warning bell struck in Sabrina’s head as Megan’s word choices sank in, but Gabrielle started talking and Sabrina let her temper cloud the caution signal.

“Isn’t that the point of writing the vows rather than going with the traditional?” Gabrielle sat perched on the edge of a high-back chair in the corner of the bedroom.

Sabrina shook her head, unable to grasp exactly what Brody’s point was behind this cockamamie idea. “I can’t believe he wants us to write our own vows. Men don’t ever want to do that!”

“Especially not alpha, controlling, ornery, caveman cowboys, right?” Savannah put in with another of her poorly stifled snickers.

“I think it’s sweet.” Brody’s youngest sister, Kayla, gave princess a whole new definition. Sabrina took one look at her china-doll complexion, petite build, and angelic features and wondered how the girl had been born to the Holt family.

Sabrina whirled around and resumed pacing. “I think it’s a harebrained idea, and I would love to know where he got it.” She didn’t mean to be rude. It simply happened. Panic set in the moment she heard what Brody wanted and continued to mount by the second.

“Why is it such a problem, Sabrina?” Megan went for point-blank, sounding more curious and knowing than Sabrina liked to admit.

“Because…because…” Sabrina struggled to come up with a believable explanation without giving away the truth. She couldn’t write her own vows because then she would be revealing just how desperately in love with Brody she had fallen. “Because I don’t know what to write,” she finally blurted lamely.

“That’s easy,” Kayla proclaimed. “You just say what’s in your heart.”

Sabrina shot her a sidelong look. “I can’t,” she admitted, already feeling the doors of doom closing around her.

“Why not, sweetheart?” her mother asked.

Gabrielle broke the seriousness of the conversation when she giggled. Everyone turned to look at her. “Sorry.” She held up a hand and bit back her smile. “I just figured what’s in her heart right about now might not be fit for public ears.”

Savannah joined in the hilarity. “She’s pregnant and about to be wed to a truly gorgeous alpha cowboy. Her hormones must be on the brink. Yeah, I’d say you’re probably right, Gabrielle.”

“Oh, you two are a real laugh riot,” Sabrina muttered through gritted teeth.

Megan walked to her, sliding an arm around her shoulder and leaning in to whisper softly enough that only Sabrina would hear. “Take my advice and say how you really feel. You never know when my brother might surprise you.”

The twinkle of knowledge in Megan’s eyes as she pulled back and met Sabrina’s gaze had Sabrina gaping even as hope swelled in her heart.

* * * *

A girl couldn’t hope for a more perfect wedding day. Sabrina peeked through the slit in the curtains covering the open window near the back door, tipped her chin back, and scanned the crystal clear sky. A light breeze flittered inside, skimming over her cheeks. Birds chirped in the distance, combining with the low hum of chatter from the gathered guests seated in the rows of chairs on the lawn. No, a girl couldn’t ask for much more on her wedding day, in terms of the weather, at least.

“Gorgeous out there, isn’t it?” Savannah asked as she came up to Sabrina’s side.

Sabrina sighed and pasted on a smile she doubted would fool her sister. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

“Mom and Carlotta did a great job at organizing all of this,” Savannah commented. “Made Dad happy to be able to kick back on the sidelines with the men and just be a man.”

“Being on a ranch like this, surrounded by all he knows, he’s in his element here.”

“He is that.”