Shotgun Vows. Teresa Southwick
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of the gods she had offended. Why was she being punished?
“I thought they would be at the office much longer,” Jillian continued. “He must have dropped everything. For me.” She smiled, the expression of a woman in love. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
The two men stopped at their table and looked down. Fresh from the office, they were wearing slacks and dress shirts. They stood out like Rockettes with broken legs. Worse, she was disturbed that Dawson looked as good, if not better, than he had just that morning when she’d seen him in jeans and boots. She was afraid even a burlap bag wouldn’t hide his muscular frame and the masculinity that made her senses sit up and take notice.
Mattie squirmed under her brother’s stare, not so much because she knew he was angry, but because Dawson was there to witness the chewing out she knew was coming. “Hi, bro,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“That’s what I’d like to know, Matilda.”
She winced, then glanced at Dawson and didn’t miss the expression on his face. He was grinning. Not with his mouth, but she could see it in his eyes. On the inside, he was smiling from ear to ear. Maybe she didn’t hate her name as much as the fact that when someone called her Matilda she was usually in trouble. Why, oh, why did Dawson have to be here? He already treated her as if she were twelve years old. Now he was witness to her brother treating her like a twelve-year-old delinquent.
She looked up—way up—and met Brody’s gray-eyed gaze. That black hair of his and the stern look on his handsome face might intimidate some people. But not her. Caught she might be, but cornered—never.
She lifted her chin. “I’m checking out San Antonio nightlife, Brody. Your fiancée very kindly agreed to accompany me, since she knows the area.”
Brody smiled at Jillian, and a person would have to be blind not to see all the love in his expression. But when he glanced her way again, Mattie squirmed. The grim look was back.
“She’s pregnant, Mattie,” he said. “What in the world possessed you to drag her to a place like this?”
Jillian put her hand on his arm. “She didn’t drag me, Brody. She couldn’t. I’m the size of a beached whale—it would take a crane to move me anywhere these days. Don’t be so hard on her.” Jillian linked her fingers with his. “There’s nothing wrong with this place. Besides, I’m pregnant, not sick. Being here won’t hurt me.” She leaned forward and said, “Hi, Dawson.”
He smiled. “Hi, yourself. How are you?”
“Fine, now that you guys are here. I was missing Brody a bunch.”
“Can I get you ladies something to drink?” he asked.
When he met her gaze, Mattie noticed that same glint in his eyes, the one that pegged her as an amusing child. How she would love to wipe that look off his face and show him a thing or two about the woman she was.
But now wasn’t the time. And since he was here, Mattie decided, he might as well make himself useful. “I’d like a glass of wine,” she said.
“Sparkling water for me,” Jill chimed in.
Brody glared at Mattie. “Make it two waters,” he said to Dawson.
“Sweetheart,” Jillian said to him, “why don’t you go along with Dawson and help him carry the drinks?”
He bent over to kiss her cheek. “Whatever you say.”
When the two men were gone, Mattie didn’t miss the pitying look Jillian sent her way. “I’m sorry, Mattie,” she said. “I wouldn’t have called him if I’d known he would act that way.”
“Don’t worry about it. At least you’re with the man you love and he makes you happy. It’s just my bad luck that he acts like a mother hen.” What bothered her more was Dawson’s presence. He would see her big brother treating her like a kid when she was doing her best to show him she was a grown woman.
Jillian glanced over to the bar where the two men were talking while waiting for the drink order. “Your brother’s intentions are good, Mattie.”
“Maybe. But you know what they say about the road to hell.” Dejectedly, Mattie rested her chin in her hand.
“Just you leave him to me when they come back.”
Mattie watched several cowboys move around on a small dais in the corner of the room. Three picked up a couple of guitars and a fiddle, while one sat at a keyboard and another tested the microphone. Then they began to play a slow, country and western song. The words were sad, about love gone bad. Mattie had only one experience with love. Adolescent love—definitely gone bad. But she was willing to give romance another try. How else was she going to find her soul mate and have the family she wanted so badly?
She glanced around the room, attempting to catch the eye of one of the unattached men present. Trying to look available and pleasant, she plastered a smile on her face. No one gave her a second look.
Her small window of opportunity slammed shut when Brody and Dawson returned with the drinks. Her brother sat next to Jillian and possessively draped his arm across her shoulders. She snuggled into him with a contented sigh. Dawson was forced to take the empty chair at the table beside her, and content wasn’t exactly the word Mattie would use to describe his body language. In fact, he angled all of his very attractive muscles as far away from her as he could get and still remain in the same county.
But Mattie didn’t miss the glances he received from other women in the room. And the realization gave her the strangest feeling, like the weight of a stone sitting on her chest.
“Brody?” Jillian smiled sweetly.
“Hmm?”
“Would you dance with me?”
He gave her rounded belly a skeptical look. “Is it all right? Not too much exertion?”
“I had more exertion last night,” she said, smiling seductively at him. He grinned—a look of supreme male satisfaction that Mattie didn’t quite understand.
“Okay, lady. Let’s do it.” He held out his hand, and Jillian put her small one in his palm and let him help her to her feet.
They walked to the dance floor without a backward glance—as if they were the only two people in the world. Mattie watched Brody take Jillian in his arms, and she went willingly, resting her head against his chest. He brushed his cheek across her hair and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand as they swayed to the music.
Mattie envied them. Would she ever have eyes for just one man and he for her? Would any man ever hold her as if she were the most precious person in his world? As if his life would be meaningless without her? She glanced around the room at all the men who kept to themselves. Not any time soon, she thought ruefully.
“You know Brody means well.” Dawson met her gaze.
“Jillian said the same thing to me.”
“She’s right.” He took a sip of his beer. “He cares about you.”
“She said that, too. And that if she’d had brothers to watch out for her maybe she wouldn’t have made mistakes in her life.”
“She could be right.” Dawson glanced at the couple on the dance floor.
“On the other hand, maybe those mistakes made her appreciate a good thing when she found it. How will I know unless I get a chance to live?” Mattie asked, not really expecting Dawson to answer.
“Patience, Mattie. He’ll be married soon. When the baby arrives, he won’t have time to keep track of you. And he’ll be too tired. I understand babies have this annoying habit of eating every two or three hours, day and night.”
“Annoying?” She studied him. “Don’t you like kids? After the way you handled them this morning, you could have fooled me.”
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