Page 39 of The Cowboy's Forbidden Bride

But when she went to unbutton his jeans, he stopped her.

“Can’t we…?” She was breathing against his mouth, rosemary and sugar all over him. Lavender like a shot of whiskey. “We’re properly engaged, Wilder.”

“Catalina Lisle, I am shocked and appalled,” he murmured, but he kissed her mouth, all along her jaw, and then down to those places on her neck that made her shiver and throw her head back. “We are getting married in a week. Don’t you want to wear white on the big day?”

She laughed and leaned down so she could press herself all over him, testing his resolve in ways he honestly didn’t know if he could resist—

“I’m thinking it’s going to have to be off-white,” she murmured. “Possibly beige, at this point.”

Wilder smoothed his hands back down to her hips, and then found his way between her legs, using his fingers to play her like his favorite instrument until she sang out his name.

And when she shivered and shook, breaking apart while he held her, he laughed. “I’m thinking maybe a red dress, kitten. Just to be safe.”

The day before the wedding, Wilder sat out on his porch in the early morning, thinking it was about time he introduced a jacket to this ritual, because it was getting to where even born and bred Montanans like him had to admit that it was, in fact, cold.

He heard an unusual sound penetrate the usual morning quiet, and it took him a moment to realize it was a vehicle coming down his drive. He braced himself for an intervention, like the kinds his brothers had been trying since his announcement.

Harlan had even sent in Kendall to do his dirty work.

It does seem awfully quick, doesn’t it?And she’d laughed when she’d asked that.I realize that’s the pot calling the kettle black.

I didn’t put an ad out,he told her.If that’s what you’re asking.

And he didn’t comment on the quickness one way or another.

Boone and Knox had come over together one evening, shouldering their way inside without an invitation, rifling through his refrigerator like they were starving teenagers, and then taking up residence on his couch, one on either side of him.

By all means,Wilder drawled.Come on in.

Just want to see if you have a gun to your head on this,Boone had said.It being so out of character and all.

And itwasout of character. Wilder understood that. But he also understood that any discussion about that would blow back on Cat, one way or another, and he couldn’t live with himself if he let that happen.

So he looked at Boone, straight on.I imagine everything seems sudden in comparison to a lifelong unrequited crush on a woman who could have dated you in high school, but married someone else instead.

And while Knox was laughing at that, Wilder took him in, too.Or, just to pick a possibility at random, creeping around in the middle of the night with the headlights of your truck off, sneaking in to see a woman I’ve never seen you with in the light of day.

Boone glared at Knox.What woman?

Knox stood.I think that concludes this intervention,he’d said gruffly.Hope you’re very happy with your shotgun wedding, Wilder.

So really, Wilder figured as he sat there with his coffee done just right, which was supposed to be a good omen, he had to brace himself for any eventuality as the sound of the approaching vehicle got closer and closer.

But the truck that swung into view was one he hadn’t seen in a minute. And he was already grinning when it stopped and Ryder stepped out, like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be back on Carey land at this hour of the morning. And unannounced.

His twin had a limp that he hadn’t had the last time Wilder had seen him, but he was smiling too. He came over, climbed the steps of the porch, and tossed himself down beside Wilder and that really did feel like the most normal thing in the world. Wilder handed Ryder his mug and they sat like that a spell, passing the mug of coffee back and forth between them like a flask.

“I’ll admit you make a fine cup of coffee,” Ryder said.

Wilder laughed. “I didn’t realize there was some kind of debate.”

And he felt something in him settle, the way it always did when Ryder was near. They both stared out at the view and found himself wondering what his brother was looking at when what Wilder saw was the magic of it all, the ridges of mountains rolling on and on, like they were the only real thing in the world. Once he would have known as well as he knew what he saw, but this wasn’t the same Ryder who had lived pretty much right next to him for the first eighteen years of his life. This Ryder was the one who’d left.

Ryder was the one who’d gone out there in the world and explored all kinds of places that Wilder had only heard about. Sure, he’d sent back pictures and he’d told stories, but it wasn’t the same.

Looking out at all the mountains, a whole mess of them snowcapped on this cold, almost bitterly crisp morning, and knowing exactly where High Mountain Ranch sat in the middle of it all, Wilder still thought he’d made the better choice.

“So,” Ryder said. “Cat Lisle.”

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