Be My Forever Bride - Martha Kennerson The Kingsleys of Texas

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clearly trying to bring more levity to the room.

      Lori turned and stuck her tongue out at him. “Because I’m a brilliant assistant and a better friend.”

      “At least she didn’t claim it was her legal expertise.” Damon returned his eyes to the papers he was holding.

      “That too,” she countered, blinking her eyes dramatically.

      “That’s enough, children. Let’s get to work,” Brooke ordered.

      The trio spent the next several hours going through the first month of all the Kingsley financial transactions and IRS filings. The hours seemed to fly by and before Brooke knew it, the sun had set. She raised her arms out and stretched. “Wow, it’s after seven,” she announced.

      “Oh, no, I have to go.” Lori started packing up her things. “John’s going to kill me. We’re supposed to meet with the wedding planner at seven-thirty.”

      “You better go, you too, Damon. Call it a night.”

      “You sure? I can stay until Dr. Schultz gets here,” Damon offered.

      Brooke gave a nonchalant wave. “Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine. I’m going to finish going through these bank statements and I’ll call Peter.”

      “Are you sure?” Lori asked, standing by the door.

      “I’m sure. Good work today, you two. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Brooke stood and watched as they both walked out the door. She kicked off her shoes and flexed her feet. Brooke pulled her phone out of her purse and placed the call she’d been avoiding since she’d landed back in Texas.

      “Good evening, Brooke. Is everything all right?” the sweet baritone voice asked.

      “Yes, Doctor, everything is fine. I understand you’re my ride back to the hotel tonight,” Brooke replied sarcastically as she stood in front of the window, enjoying the sparkling lights of the city.

      “I am. Are you ready?” Peter asked, laughing; Broke knew he was responding to the annoyance in her voice.

      “Not yet. I have about another hour’s worth of work left. Can you be here at eight-thirty?”

      “Absolutely.”

      “Call me when you arrive,” she advised before hanging up.

      Brooke returned to her seat, where she picked up a bank statement and the highlighter and got back to her audit. She got through the last set faster than she’d expected. Brooke stood and started stacking all the files and papers when she heard the door open. She swirled around so fast she made herself dizzy. “Whoa...” She gripped the table to stay up right.

      Brice was standing in the doorway and smirking. “You okay?”

      “Yes. What are you doing here?” Brooke checked her watch. “It’s nearly eight—is it past Amy’s curfew?” Dammit...

       Chapter 4

      The corners of Brice’s mouth turned up. He always loved her quick wit and the way Brooke’s cheeks turned pink whenever she said something she wished she hadn’t. Brooke had removed her jacket, her arms exposed, and she stood in her bare feet. Brice’s eyes took their fill. Her naturally slim build was unusually thin, but he still thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

      “Funny. No, her choice of restaurant was not really my taste.”

      Brooke shrugged. “That’s what you get for dating a toddler.”

      Brice leaned into the door frame. “Amy’s no toddler.”

      Brooke turned her back to him, saying, “I bet.”

      “Excuse me.”

      Brooke slid her feet back into her shoes, walked around the table and started gathering up her things. “It’s none of my business, and who am I to question who you choose to spend your personal time with?”

      “No, it’s not. You lost that right the night you left.”

      Brooke raised her head and met his stormy gaze. “You’re right, my apologies.”

      Brice pushed off the door frame and walked into the office. “No problem—”

      “I just don’t see what you two could possibly have in common.”

      “You’d be surprised.” Brice didn’t want to continue this line of questioning. His exaggeration was making him uncomfortable. It was time to change the subject. “So how was your first day back? I trust you have everything you need.”

      “I do.” Their eyes collided at the familiar phrase they’d recited not so long ago. “I mean, everyone’s been very helpful.”

      “So we should meet our established three-month timeframe?” he questioned, trying to keep his business persona intact when his traitorous body was responding to Brooke on a more personal level.

      “Barring any surprises, yes, we should,” she reassured him confidently.

      “Good. Have you eaten yet? There’s no reason we can’t be civil.”

      “Actually—” Brooke’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me.”

      Brice saw a face he’d hoped he would never have to see again pop up on Brooke’s phone.

      “You here?” Brooke answered.

      “Yes,” Peter replied. “I didn’t want to give you a chance to leave without me.”

      Brooke laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ll be right down.” She ended the call and returned the phone to her purse.

      “Sounds like you have other plans.” Brice pressed his lips together, preventing himself from asking questions he didn’t really want the answers to.

      Brooke nodded. “But thanks for the offer... Rain check?”

      “Sure.” Brice placed both hands in his pocket as he tried to keep a straight face, attempting to hide the disappointment that he wanted to kick himself for even feeling. “I’ll walk you out.”

      “That’s really not necessary, but thank you.” Brooke reached for her jacket, only Brice beat her to it. He held it out and Brooke slipped both arms through each sleeve. Brice’s hands briefly rested on the small of her back as his senses were attacked by the scent of jasmine wafting from Brooke’s hair. Brooke looked over her shoulder, gazed up at him and whispered, “Thank you, Brice,” before stepping away.

      Brice knew she was thanking him for more than helping with her coat. They’d rarely had disagreements, but when they did it usually ended quickly. Her kind heart just wouldn’t let things fester, which was another reason why he’d found her actions so unbelievable. Citing that their marriage was an impulse, she’d requested it be annulled, a request he flatly refused. Brooke's desire to keep his name was the only leverage he had to slow things down so he could try and find out what was really going on between them.

      “You’re welcome.”

      They walked out of the office and made their way to the elevator where they descended in silence. They exited the elevator and walked through the nearly empty lobby. Brice eyed the tall olive-skinned man leaning against a black town car with his arms crossed.

      “Your ride?” Brice asked, setting his mouth in a tight line.

      “Yes.”

      Brice stopped short of the exit. “Have a good evening.”

      “You too,” Brooke replied as she walked out the door.

      The last thing Brice wanted was to stand there and watch as his rival greeted Brooke with an extended hand and helped her into his car. But Brice’s feet were glued to that spot. He knew he should

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