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1

Buck

“How are you holding up?” I whispered in the ear of the woman standing beside me.

“About as well as you are,” she whispered back as we watched the woman I’d fallen hopelessly in love with walk down the aisle toward the man she was marrying instead of me.

My plus-one, Stella, and I had spent a couple of nights on the phone, drinking and drowning in our shared misery since she was equally in love with the groom. I was sure tonight would be no different.

We turned when Ali, the bride, reached Cope, the groom, who stood with the minister who would marry them. It wasn’t the bride who captured my gaze, though. It was Stella. She looked so damn pretty today I almost swallowed my tongue when I picked her up at her apartment.

“Stop that,” she’d said, punching my arm.

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like I’m really your date.”

I wanted to tell her she really was my date and that she was breathtaking. But I wouldn’t put her on the spot like that. The woman, whose real first name I didn’t know—I’d only heard her referred to as either TJ or Stella—had been in love with Sumner Copeland since the day I met her. It didn’t matter that it was unrequited.

He had given her the nickname Stella. All the more reason for me not to use it. Maybe today would be the day I stopped. Maybe it would also be the day I told TJ how I really felt about her, and that instead of being her convenient plus-one, I wanted to be the real thing.

I shook my head at my foolishness. Not only would she carry a torch for Cope for-fucking-ever, she was a city girl. Born and raised. I was the exact opposite. I’d grown up on a ranch, shoveling shit and never able to get the dirt out from under my fingernails.

The thing we had in common, other than being in love with people who weren’t in love with us, was that we’d both traveled the world for our jobs.

She was an award-winning journalist, and up until recently, I had been an agent with the CIA. I’d retired, but still worked in the business, just for a private intelligence firm instead.

That was how TJ and I met. She was covering a trial involving Cope, during which Ali’s safety had been compromised. I’d been assigned to an op involving asset protection—for Ali.

I glanced at my date again when the minister began the ceremony. Instead of looking at Cope, TJ was looking at me, and she was breathtaking. From the day I first met her, I found it ironic that of all the women I’d known, she was among the most beautiful yet she was utterly unaware of it.

She wasn’t just beautiful. She was smart, clever, and funny. There were times she made me laugh so hard I thought I’d split a gut. She was also a force of nature when she dug her heels into a story like the one she’d been reporting on when we met.

The woman was the total package, and I was lucky enough to get to spend time with her.

To think I’d met her through another woman I loved. But had I really? Or was it just lust? Somewhere along the line, even that had changed. Now when I looked at Ali, I was reminded of my younger sister, Flynn. Ali was no longer the woman whose pants I wanted to peel from her body. Now Stella—TJ—was the only woman whose naked body I wanted to hold next to mine.

2

Stella

“You clean up good,” I’d said to Buck when he picked me up at my apartment. What I’d almost blurted out was he looked really fucking hot. So hot, I wanted to take his clothes off piece by piece and spend the afternoon exploring his naked body rather than attend the wedding of the guy I’d spent the last few years secretly in love with.

Was that even true? Had I been in love with Cope, or was it just lust? Before Ali was in his life, I’d had plenty of fantasies in which he was the star. Porn star, if I was honest. But it was more than that. There’d been a time I believed I had a shot at a relationship with him.

No point in going down that lane of memories on a day like today. Instead, I looked Buck up and down when I saw him doing the same thing to me.

The man was every cowboy fantasy I’d ever had, come to life. Add in his scruffy beard and long hair, and he was the exact opposite of Sumner Copeland. No less hot. Actually, more so. Way hotter.

Unfortunately, one of the things Buck and Cope had in common represented the reason my hot cowboy fantasies would never come to life. They were both hopelessly in love with Ali Graham Mancuso, who in about fifteen minutes, would add Copeland to her name.

Why had I agreed to even come to the wedding? Especially with Buck? If I’d said no, I wouldn’t be forced to watch the man I wished I’d had sex with at least once get married while standing next to the man I wished I could have sex with right now. And by right now, I meant drag him back to that sexy-as-fuck pickup he drove us here in and ride him like the cowboy he was.

I clenched my thighs together when I felt Buck’s hand brush against mine. That’s all it took. One simple touch. Then he made it worse. He leaned over, put his mouth next to my ear, and whispered. It didn’t matter what he said. I couldn’t think straight enough to hear it anyway.

I turned my head before he pulled away. His lips were close enough that I could kiss them, if only I had the balls to do it.

Instead, I turned back in time to see Cope kiss the shit out of Ali when the minister pronounced them man and wife. Damn. I really didn’t need to see that.

“What did you say?” I whispered to Buck.

He leaned into me like he had a minute ago. “I said, you look more beautiful than the bride, Stella.”

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