Page 129 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

“Perhaps.” At first, I’d thought the same thing, but Brooke wasn’t easily intimidated. Unless my mother had a snake in her purse, Brooke would be fine.

“Was mom upset that you’re bringing her?”

“She didn’t have a choice.”

I scanned the incoming vehicles for my car. When I saw it turn in, the butterflies in my stomach came to life, and I felt a little dizzy. I’d seen Brooke the day before, but it felt like it had been forever.

“Don’t forget that we’re also here to talk to Matthew Grant,” Courtney said.

“You mean I’m here to talk to him.” I glanced at my sister and found her scowling. She’d decided on light makeup tonight, which made her look more innocent than she was. Some poor man would probably find himself in her clutches soon.

Courtney sniffed. “Yeah. That.”

I squeezed her hand. “You know he’s an idiot, right? For not doing business with women.”

“He thinks we’re too emotional.”

“Some of you are.”

“Have you met Dad?” Courtney’s glared intensified. “Talk about a baby.”

“You won’t get an argument from me.” Patrick had almost arrived at the walkway, and I slipped away from Courtney.

“I’ll leave you to your reunion,” Courtney said. “But I want to meet this woman.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you promise to behave?”

“Nope.”

I chuckled, then turned around and found Patrick letting Brooke out of the front seat.

Of course she’d insisted on sitting there instead of in back.

Fashion wasn’t my forté; I usually let Courtney and our family’s stylist pick my wardrobe, but I did know a good dress when I saw one.

The fact that Brooke wore an almost retro white dress with big red flowers told me that someone had helped her with the outfit. The floral print rage had started in the early spring and would likely carry through until fall. Brooke looked like she belonged here, from her styled hair to her impressive red sandals.

Heels did desirable things to women’s legs, and Brooke certainly had shapely calf muscles. It shouldn’t have surprised me considering she spent most of her time doing hard labor.

I purposely didn’t look at her lips as she approached. I also had to keep my gaze above her neck, so I settled on her brown eyes. They sparkled. Maybe it was the lights, or maybe she was excited to see me.

I moved toward her and offered her a hand as she stepped up onto the sidewalk. Her warm fingers slid against mine, and a shiver ran through me.

The weight of a dozen or more sets of eyes bore down on me as those who were also waiting for other guests watched our exchange. There would be rumors galloping through the party. Speculation would run rampant. Who was the woman with William Harris? Was he finally ready to settle down?

They knew as much as I did at this point.

Brooke stopped a little way from me, and instead of tugging her forward, I gave her a smile, then pulled her knuckles to my lips.

Was that a blush I saw crawling up her neck?

Brooke raised her eyebrows as if to ask if that’s the way things were going to be tonight.

I chuckled and gently drew her to me. Her body barely brushed mine, but that didn’t stop my insides from igniting with memories from the horse stall. My hands rested on her waist as if they’d always belonged there, and her arms went around me. Our lips met for an instant, but it was enough. For now.

“People are staring.” Brooke grinned as our noses hovered inches apart.

“Let them.” I kissed her again, this time for slightly longer, before I let her go and held out my hand. “Would you like to experience the outrageous food before my mother ambushes us?”

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