Page 2 of Bride ’N Boots

“We don’t have time for all that. I need a stand-in groom. I’m the bride, and you’re the groom. Understand?”

“Not really,” he drawled. “But I’m intrigued.”

“Good, great. Let’s go.” I scooted out of the booth.

“Do I have time to finish my coffee?”

“Haven’t you been listening? This is urgent. Leave the coffee. I’ll buy you another one later.” I grabbed his hand, which was rough and calloused, and tried to tug him from his seat.

But he was huge and pulling on him was like trying to dislodge a cement block. There was no way he was moving unless he decided to.

“I don’t want another coffee,” he said as he finally made a motion to get up out of the booth.

“Okay, a pastry then. Whatever . . . let’s just go. I’ll explain everything on the way.”

I had to release his hand so we could maneuver through the tables and chairs.

“Everything okay, Stratton?” the wiry woman asked the cowboy.

“Everything’s fine,” he replied. “My new bride is just a little antsy. She’s in a hurry to tie the knot.”

The woman sniggered.

“We’re not actually getting married,” I said in exasperation, looking up at him over my shoulder.

“We’ll see about that,” the cowboy said with a teasing wink.

Shivers wracked my entire body.

I shoved open the door to the bakery, the cool air of early spring gracing my face.

“Thank you for coming to Sweet Teeth! Come again soon!” the cashier called out.

The cheery bell hanging atop the door clanged as the door shut.

“Your name is Stratton?” I asked as I lifted my wedding dress and stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Yeah.”

“That’s your first name?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your last name?” I demanded.

“Thorpe. Are you finally going to tell me your name?”

“Maisie,” I said absently, looking down the main street for Arden’s car that had yet to appear. “Maisie Jenkins.”

“Maisie Thorpe has a better ring to it, don’t you think?”

I looked at him over my shoulder, noting the breadth of his chest and his effortless, masculine stance in jeans and boots. “You’ll fit.”

He stilled and his blue eyes darkened with heat.

My brain officially short circuited.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” I hated that I sounded breathless. “I meant you’ll fit into the clothes.”