Falling for the Best Man (Sisters of Wishing Bridge Farm, #1)(10)

“What’s some old movie got to do with anything?”

Christopher blinked. Star Wars was for life. However, he was also a pragmatist, and it was obvious Lewis had changed in more ways than one, so he just shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just saying I’m still me.”

“Sure you are.” Lewis patted his arm. “And I’m just saying if you want to be more regular, you can study us for the weekend and pick up a few tips.”

“Er, okay.” Christopher ran his hand through his hair, not quite sure why everyone seemed to think he was trouble. Emmy. Melinda. And now Lewis? All he wanted to do was make the most of the opportunity he’d fought so hard for. All the articles he’d written, all the dumps he’d stayed in, the long waits at airports, the cockroaches—oh, yeah, no one ever mentioned the cockroaches, but they were always there. And it was all for this.

To be successful.

To do something important with his life.

To not turn out like his father.

He took a deep breath. His dad had driven a bus for forty years between Rock Hill and Columbia, each year becoming more bitter at being stuck with two kids while his dreams of traveling the world were put on hold. The irony was that long after Christopher and his brother had left home and their father had retired, he still never stepped foot outside the state that held him hostage his entire life.

Not going to happen to me.

He glanced over to where a group of women were admiring one of the rosebushes planted at the end of the row of each grapevine. From his count there were three blondes, two brunettes, and a redhead, all of them good looking.

He turned back to his friend. “So, what do you know about them?”

“That’s Tina.” Lewis pointed to a tall willowy girl. “She’s a lawyer. Smart, funny, and loves the Red Socks.”

“The Red Socks? You want me to date someone who supports that team?” Christopher frowned.

“Fake date,” Lewis reminded him before studying Christopher’s face, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. “Okay, let’s take Tina off the list. What about Pandora? She’s cute and loves travelling. And before you ask, I don’t have a clue who she supports. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Of course not.” Christopher shook his head, realizing that his friend was right. It wasn’t like he was looking for a real girlfriend. Or a wife. Or someone who makes me catch my breath just by standing next to me, like Emmy does. Wait. No. “She sounds perfect. And I bet she doesn’t bake bread.”

“Bread?” Lewis, who’d been waving to Melinda, turned back and looked confused. “Why would anyone bake bread? You can just go buy it from the store.”

“Hey, preaching to the choir.” Christopher held up his hands and pushed Emmy from his mind. Bread-baking farm girls who let him down weren’t on his agenda.

Then he realized the Emmy in his imagination had been baking bread with no clothes on.

Christ, what the hell’s wrong with me?

“Okay,” Lewis said. “So, would you like to meet her?”

“Yes.” Christopher growled before checking Emmy was otherwise occupied. It rankled she thought he was some kind of fly-in, fly-out guy who was allergic to standing still. Not only was it completely wrong, but it was definitely no reason to kidnap and force him to sleep in a guest cottage that had probably housed more spiders than people.

Then again, it wasn’t like he was going to do anything to draw attention to himself. It was business, pure and simple. He followed Lewis over to where Pandora stood. He was going to make this work and prove once and for all that he wasn’t like his old man.





Chapter Three


“Let me get this straight. You stole the best man, and you’re now following his every move,” Rachel said as they stood on the corner of the slate terrace overlooking Sweet Valley Vineyard, admiring the way the sun dappled the plump yellow grapes. Well, Rachel was admiring it. Emmy was just making sure Christopher stayed out of trouble.

And by “out of trouble,” she meant “not seducing bridesmaids.”

So not jealous.

“I didn’t steal him.” She turned her attention back to her friend. “It was a legitimate housing emergency. There was nowhere else for him to sleep.”

“I see.” Rachel shrugged with a flick of her purple hair. Despite an age difference of twenty years, the two had been friends ever since Emmy started doing the accounts at the vineyard owned by Rachel and her husband Jackson. It was also the perfect place for the bridal party to spend the morning before the women went off for spa treatments and the men to play golf.

Emmy had contemplated whether she needed to follow Christopher around the eighteen holes then decided he’d be safe enough surrounded by Lewis and the other groomsmen. Rachel’s steady gaze told Emmy she wasn’t fooling anyone.

She let out a sigh. “Okay, fine. So maybe I stole him a little bit. But you know how important this wedding is. If anything goes wrong…”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong. You’ve worked your butt off to make Sunday perfect,” Rachel said fiercely. Then she softened to add, “But don’t you think that you’re playing with fire? What if something happens between you?”

“It won’t,” Emmy said, wishing she’d never told Rachel the details of her one and only trip to New York. In her defense, she didn’t expected see Christopher again. Not considering his parting text message to her.