CHAPTER ONE

If one more person asked Grace when she was going to find Mr. Right and settle down, she was going to deck ’em. Why did weddings and baby showers bring on the incessant questions regarding her nonexistent love life?

On the dance floor, Colin wrapped around his newly minted wife, Parker, in a slow dance. Her brother was all smiles, and her sister-in-law had shed actual tears while reciting her wedding vows. It really had been the perfect ceremony.

Colin was the first of them to get married. Grace was fairly certain her other brother, Matt, wasn’t far behind. He danced with his live-in girlfriend and her fellow bridesmaid, Erin. Yeah, they were just as lovey-dovey as the ones who’d tied the knot.

Truth was, Grace was insanely happy for both her brothers.

Only now that they were paired up, all family eyes were on her. Even Grandma Rose, whose dementia often resulted in Grace being called Nora, her mother’s name, followed by a question about coming home late from school . . . asked if Grace was ever going to find a man.

Grace leaned back in a chair, legs crossed, with her toe swinging in the air to the slow music. The lights were dim, and all eyes and cameras were focused on Colin and Parker.

Behind her, the sound of a chair scooting out from under the table had Grace glancing out of the corner of her eye. Aunt Bethany.

Grace lifted the hand holding her champagne in the air before her aunt had the chance to speak.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Not one word.”

Her aunt was Grandma Rose with a full-watt memory.

Grace heard the woman sigh over the music.

Three bars of music passed . . .

The chorus . . .

“Weddings always make me nostalgic,” Aunt Beth started.

Grace felt her easy grin turn into something painful.

“Nostalgic?” Grace found herself responding.

“Oh, yes . . . for those early days of romance and possibilities.”

“Yup.” God, this was painful. It was like watching a train barreling down the track toward a crossing with dysfunctional arms and wondering if the oncoming traffic would get caught in its path.

Okay, maybe not that bad . . . but still.

“So, what is it about all your relationships that keeps you from having someone at your side at these events?”

And there it was.

Grace felt her hand tighten around the caterer’s cheap flute.

Option one: toss champagne at her aunt and cause a scene at her brother’s wedding.

Nope.

Option two: drink the champagne and grit her teeth to the point of pain.

Check.

“Grace?”

She swallowed half the glass in one gulp and proceeded to cough as some of the liquid went down the wrong pipe.

She grabbed for a napkin to keep from spitting wine all over her dress and then fled the room.

Eyes followed her retreat.

Outside the ballroom, the hotel lighting and decrease in noise stopped her forward motion.

Air . . . she needed air. Across the hall were double doors that led out to the hotel’s garden. Colin and Parker had taken copious numbers of pictures there only a couple of hours before.

Grace cleared her throat and marched toward the doors leading outside.

The second she passed the threshold, brisk December air rushed down her back.

“Holy moly.” She considered turning around.

Freeze or listen to Aunt Beth?

Cold it was.

Her feet took her toward the lighted path of trees. She hugged her arms in an attempt to stay warm.

The one fancy hotel in Santa Clarita was decked out for the holidays. But it wasn’t the view that snapped her out of her crappy mood, it was the fact she could see her breath.

Determined to stay outside long enough to look flushed and energized when she returned to the reception, Grace forced her legs to carry her to the end of the garden to stare at the water fountain.

“This is stupid,” she muttered to herself.

She rubbed her arms absently as a strange heat tickled the back of her neck.

The sensation of someone watching her was unshakable. She imagined there were hotel guests looking down from their rooms and wondering what kind of fool walked around in the cold, in a dress . . . without a coat.

“Me.” I’m the fool.

She shifted from foot to foot and slowly turned to determine if she could locate the eyes on her. Her head tilted up, as if she were looking for stars. The spans of hotel windows, all four stories of them, were in various stages of open blinds. Most were closed, but a few were wide open with the lights on in the rooms. Yet no one peered down.

Grace let her gaze sweep over the landscape and behind her toward the hotel. Several sets of automatic glass doors lined the hotel halls that wrapped around to the ballrooms. Several people meandered about inside, but none seemed to have noticed her.

She was about to give up looking for the person behind the heat on her neck when she saw him.

He leaned casually against an inside pillar on the other side of a floor-to-ceiling window. He wore a suit, minus the tie. Grace tried to place him. Was he at the wedding?

No.

She would have noticed him the second he walked into the room. Tall, which considering she was as vertically challenged as they came, didn’t take much. Rugged . . . as in sharp features and shoulders that filled the suit jacket really . . . really well.

Grace realized she was staring and averted her eyes back to the fountain.

Despite the fact she could still see the vapor her breath created in the night air, she didn’t feel quite as chilled as when she walked out. That alone told her the man continued to watch.

She knelt down to adjust the strap on her shoe solely so she could confirm her suspicion.

He hadn’t budged.

In fact, she was pretty sure he smiled.

Grace stood tall to the extra three inches her heels allowed and turned away. She’d normally be a little freaked out about a man staring at her from inside a building. But she was standing out in the cold like an idiot, and if she’d seen someone doing the same thing, she’d probably stop and stare, too.

Lucky for her, the doors leading to the reception were opposite of where Mr. Stare Happy was perched.

Men in hotels were not the kind she wanted to meet. They were either there on business, visiting someone, or cheating on their significant other. Nope, nope, and nope.

She checked over her shoulder right before sliding back into the ballroom.

Stare Happy wasn’t there.

Good!

Although she had to admit, the man was good-looking. From what she could tell from her distance.

The music had switched to something fast, and the dance floor was crowded.

Erin approached, confusion on her face. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Grace waved a hand toward the direction of the door. “I’ve been . . . I was . . . never mind. What’s up?”

“They’re about to cut the cake.”

“Right. Cake . . . got it.” There was a wedding going on, and a lively one at that. The last thing she should be doing is wallowing in self-pity about her lacking love life.

Once the cake was cut and the bouquet was tossed, her responsibilities to the bride and groom were over, and she could do what every other self-respecting bridesmaid did at a reception . . . get hammered or hook up.

Considering most of the people in attendance were family or close friends she knew too much about to consider a one-night stand, it looked like she had a date with a bottle of champagne.