Page 13 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

I’d spent more time on my appearance today than I had in the past year.

Brody shot me a look from over the top of the car, then he opened the driver’s side door.

“Seriously? You’re not even going to open my door.” I gripped the handle and yanked it open with too much force.

“No.” He shook his head. “You’re not going.”

“That gruff, bossy tone doesn’t work on me.” I gave him a saccharine smile. “I don’t work for you.”

“What did Clara tell you?”

I lifted a shoulder. “She begged me to be your date to some ostentatious wedding. She promised there’d be champagne. And she promised you’d be nice.”

“He will be nice!” Clara shouted as she walked down the driveway with August at her side. The shout made her dissolve into a fit of coughs.

“You should be resting,” Brody and I said at the same time.

I scowled at him, then turned it toward my sister. “Go inside.”

She waved me off, coughing as she neared the car. “I’m fine. August is going to take care of me after you guys leave. Isn’t that right, bud?”

His chest puffed up. “Yep. We’re ordering pizza for d

inner.”

“Pizza,” I moaned. I loved pizza. “There’s no chance this wedding will be catered by Domino’s, is there?”

Clara giggled. “None.”

“Didn’t think I’d get lucky.”

“You can stay for pizza,” Brody said. “Because you’re not going.”

If the man didn’t want me along, fine. I wasn’t going to force it. I’d already done my best by showing up, dressed to perfection and wearing a pair of toe-pinching heels. What more could I do? I knew when I wasn’t welcome. And avoiding an evening with Brody was no hardship.

I opened my mouth, ready to accept defeat, but my beautiful, red-nosed and stuffed-up sister spoke first.

“She’s going.” Clara leveled her gaze on Brody. “Don’t be an idiot. You and I both know this is the best option. Besides, look at her.”

“What about me?” I dropped my gaze to my feet.

“You’re beautiful,” Brody admitted through clenched teeth. It sounded pained, like it was either admit that I looked good—because I looked good—or have a tooth pulled without anesthesia.

“Gee. Thanks.” I rolled my eyes.

“Heather will hate it.” Clara gave Brody an evil grin.

Who was Heather? My darling sister had skipped over some details in her rushed explanation as to why I was going. Because that gleam in her eyes was nothing more than petty spite.

I could get behind petty spite, as long as I knew who we were spiting.

Brody pondered her words, his jaw clenched and his stare impassive. “Shit.”

“Brody said a bad word.” August pointed at Brody and looked up to Clara, waiting for his mother to take action.

“Yes, he did.” Clara cocked a hip and shot her boss a sideways look.

“Sorry. Dam-darn.” He sighed and left the car, walking over to August. He dug in his pocket and came out with a quarter, handing it to my nephew. “Piggy bank.”