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THOSE BEAUTIFUL VIVID HAZEL EYES would haunt his dreams. Marshall still didn’t understand why a simple trip to the justice of the peace back in Houston wouldn’t do the trick, once he found a bride willing to wear his ring. But a mother’s wish to see her eldest properly married in front of friends and family had a way of tying a son’s hands. His anyway. He’d never been able to refuse the woman anything she asked.
On the other side of that coin sat Ms. Winter with her soft hands and delicate voice.
Peeling himself away from one of the biggest deals in the history of BlackCo didn’t seem logical though. Then again, he would have missed the opportunity to see Juniper’s eyes and her sweet smile up close and in person. TV did not do her all the justice she deserved.
He pushed the hotel door closed behind him and tossed his hat on the counter, and his focus zeroed in on the black machine on the edge of the small kitchenette’s counter. He had contracts to go over and a new proposal with a refinery to hammer out.
On autopilot, he filled the coffeemaker and didn’t move until the machine gurgled out the first cup of rich, steamy black liquid.
He had planned on leaving Stella here to take care of all the details while he went bride hunting back home but, after this morning and those eyes, he had to fight for a reason not to stay on and see this all through personally. After all, it was his wedding.
“Uh-oh. I saw that same look on your face two hours ago when Juniper fell into your arms. It’s like fate said here you go, she’s all yours.”
His sister waltzed through the connecting doors of their side-by-side rooms, grabbed a mug from the counter and a cinnamon bun from a busy bakery they swung by on their way to the hotel.
“Kismet if I ever saw it.” She pursed her lips together and blew air kisses behind him as she snagged the pot from his hand.
“You talk too damn much.”
“And you not nearly enough. Shawn would have asked her out on a date right then and there and had evening plans lockeddown tight. As in your room or mine kinda plans. You’re rusty, big brother.”
“Well, you stopped that the second you said you were my intended bride.” He tipped his mug her way. “Thanks for that. Threw a huge bucket of cold water on anything that I might have wanted.”
“No might to it. Damn you were basically undressing her right there in the middle of her shop. Rude much.”
He grunted. “Okay. Here’s one for you.”
Propped up on his elbows he considered how to approach the question that burned his brain since about nine that morning. “Why did you insist on the lie to Juniper?”
“You don’t even see it, do you? Blind as a bat.”
He shot her a puzzled look. “What does that mean?”
“Please, call me Marshall. May I call you Juniper? You went hot, bro. Admit it.” She lowered her voice to a gruff imitation of his then promptly busted out laughing. A lock of red hair slipped over her shoulder and he tugged it.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“I know I am but watching you dance around Juniper was funnier and more entertaining.”
He brushed off his sister’s teasing. “You did kind of tie my hands with your lie, you know.
“Right. Back to that. I wondered how long it would take you to ask. Bravo for making it the whole car ride over here.”
He chuckled and ruffled his sister’s head. Like old times, she swatted him away. “Don’t do that.”
“Well, if you’re going to act like a kid, you’re gonna get treated like one.”
Stella scowled at him and sighed with something close to exasperation. As though he should already know the answer to this one. With his mind occupied with the intricate details that could cost his company billions for one mistake, their father’s death, and everything else in between, he must have missed a finer detail here or there.
“Mind filling me in on what I missed?” He plucked the last bit of her cinnamon roll from her fingers before she could dunk it.
“Oh, that’s low. Momma’s gonna hear about that when we get home.”
He shrugged and leaned against the counter.
Exasperated and fuming that she missed out on her last bit of pastry, Marshall wiggled his brows at his sister. No words were needed to get her riled up. Something each of his brothers thrived on. The girl did it all on her own.
Reserved to seek revenge later no doubt, Stella turned to her steaming cup of coffee. He’d do better to keep an eye open. Redheads tended to be swift, silent, and deadly when on a warpath. Or at least this one did.
