Free Wild with You by Sara Jane Stone

dated back to that era. The men wore jackets, though one guest seated across the aisle had paired his sports coat with a Moore Timber T-­shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots.
    â€œGeorgia recently returned from Afghanistan,” Brody said, leaning close and keeping his voice low. “She’s out of the army now, but large crowds make her nervous. She decided to keep the wedding to friends, a few coworkers, and family.”
    The bride was a veteran with PTSD? That had to top the list of weddings not to crash.
    â€œI shouldn’t be here,” Kat said.
    Brody took her hand as if he thought she might run. It was tempting, but the last thing Kat wanted to do was startle the bride by racing away from her wedding ceremony.
    Chad Summers claimed the empty seat on her right, the one bordering the pathway between the chairs. He smiled at her, his brown eyes brimming with mischief. “I heard a rumor that you’d decided to bring a date,” he said to his brother. “I didn’t realize it was the new doctor.”
    â€œI’m not his date,” Kat said quickly, pulling her hand free from Brody’s hold. “I was tricked into crashing.”
    Chad’s eyebrows shot up. “By my big brother?”
    â€œHow’s Lena?” Brody demanded, in what she suspected was an attempt to shut down his brother’s curiosity.
    Chad smiled at the woman’s name. “Ready to blaze a path down the aisle. She was getting Hero prepared to do his part when I left. He’s one good-­looking flower dog.”
    Traditional wedding music ended the conversation. The groom appeared at the front in a charcoal three-­piece suit. Beside him stood an equally attractive gentleman. She didn’t recognize either one—­though she guessed Mr. Three-­Piece Suit was Eric Moore. Still, one look around the small wedding and Kat had to admit the single, female population of Manhattan might flock to small-­town Oregon if they realized the abundance of droolworthy men.
    Abandoning any hope of escaping this friends and family event, Kat turned her attention to the white runner leading to the arbor. A small boy, about three or four, appeared. He clutched a pillow with two rings tied to the top in one hand and a small plastic sheep in the other. Dropping the pillow, he raced to the front, heading straight for the groom.
    â€œNate, the rings!” an older woman, possibly the bride or groom’s mother, called to the child.
    Eyes wide with surprise, the young ring bearer raced back, discarded the toy sheep, picked up the pillow and returned to the front.
    The bridal procession continued with a golden retriever carrying a white wicker basket overflowing with rose petals. As the dog trotted toward the arbor, petals tumbled to the white runner. A blond woman who looked as if she belonged on the Fashion Week runway despite her somewhat ordinary tea-­length green dress followed close behind. The animal paused by the abandoned sheep and cocked its head as if debating whether to drop the basket and continue on with the toy.
    â€œDon’t you dare, Hero,” the blond woman murmured, and the retriever obeyed. Katie Summers followed in a matching dress, the green highlighting her red hair.
    â€œMy sister’s boyfriend is the guy standing beside the groom,” Brody said, his voice low. “Liam Trulane. He’s also Georgia’s brother. They grew up here too.”
    â€œOne big happy family, huh?” Kat whispered as the music changed and the audience stood.
    â€œWe have out moments,” Brody murmured, his lips curving up, forming a smile that managed to scream sexy and sweet at the same time. “But for the most part? Yeah, one big family.”
    Why do I have a feeling your worst moments together surpass my best memory of “having a family”?
    Because even at their worst, they had each other.
    Turning to the aisle, Kat wondered if she should slip away after