One Winter Wedding. Barbara Hannay

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      Startled, Kelsey listened to Connor converse in fluent Spanish. She couldn’t understand a word, so why did his deep voice pour like hot fudge through her veins?

      Get a grip! Connor McClane is in town for one reason and one reason only. And that reason was not her.

      The hostess led them to a corner booth. Kelsey barely had a chance to slide across the red Naugahyde and glance at the menu when a masculine voice called out, “Look what the cat dragged in!”

      A good-looking Hispanic man dressed in a white button-down shirt and khakis walked over. Connor stood and slapped him on the back in a moment of male bonding. “Javy! Good to see you, man!”

      “How’s life in L.A.?”

      “Not bad. How’s your mother? The hostess says she’s not here today?”

      “She’s semiretired, which means she’s only here to kick my butt half the time,” Javy laughed.

      “I didn’t think you’d ever get Maria to slow down.”

      “This place means the world to her. I still don’t know how to thank you.”

      “Forget it, man,” Connor quickly interrupted. “It was nothing compared to what your family’s done for me over the years.”

      Modesty? Kelsey wondered, though Connor didn’t seem the type. And yet she didn’t read even an ounce of pride in his expression. If anything, he looked…guilty.

      “I’m not about to forget it, and I will find a way to pay you back,” Javy insisted. “Hey, do you want to crash at my place while you’re here?”

      “No, thanks. I’ve got a hotel room.”

      Finally Connor turned back to Kelsey. “Javy, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Javier Delgado, Kelsey Wilson.”

      Javy did a double take at Kelsey’s last name, then slanted Connor a warning look. “Man, some people never learn.”

      Still, his dark eyes glittered and a dimple flashed in one cheek as he said, “Pleasure to meet you, señorita. Take care of this one, will you? He’s not as tough as he thinks he is.”

      “Get outta here.” Connor shoved his friend’s shoulder before sliding into the booth across from Kelsey. “And bring us some food. I’ve been dying for your mother’s enchiladas.” He handed back the menu without opening it. “What about you, Kelsey?”

      “I’m, um, not sure.” The menu was written in Spanish on the right and English on the left, but even with the translation, she didn’t know what to order.

      “She’ll have a chicken quesadilla with the guacamole and sour cream on the side. And we’ll both have margaritas.”

      “I’ll take mine without alcohol,” Kelsey insisted. Bad enough he’d ordered her lunch. She didn’t need him ordering a drink for her, especially not one laden with tequila and guaranteed to go right to her head.

      “Two margaritas, one virgin,” Connor said with a wink that sent a rush of heat to Kelsey’s cheeks. With her fair complexion, she figured she could give the red pepper garland strung across the ceiling a run for its money.

      “I’ll get those orders right up.”

      As his friend walked toward the kitchen, Connor leaned back in the booth and gazed around the restaurant. Nostalgia lifted the corners of his mouth in a genuine smile. “Man, I’ve missed this place.”

      “So why haven’t you come back before now?” Kelsey asked, curious despite sensible warnings to keep her distance.

      He shrugged. “Never had reason to, I guess.”

      “Until now,” she added flatly, “when you’ve come to crash Emily’s wedding.”

      Losing his relaxed pose, he braced his muscled forearms on the table and erased the separation between them. His smile disappeared, nostalgia burned away by determination. “First of all, there isn’t going to be a wedding. And second, even if there was a wedding, I wouldn’t be crashing. I’d be an invited guest.”

      “Invited!” Surprise and something she didn’t want to label had her pulling back, hoping to create some sanity-saving distance. “Who…” She groaned at the obvious answer, and the confident spark in Connor’s emerald eyes. “What on earth was Emily thinking?”

      “Actually, she summed up her thoughts pretty well.”

      Connor reached into his back pocket and pulled out an invitation. He offered it up like a challenge, holding a corner between his first and second fingers. She snatched it away, almost afraid to read what her cousin had written. Emily’s girlish script flowered across the cream-colored vellum.

       Please say you’ll come. I can’t imagine my wedding day without you.

      Good Lord, it was worse than she’d thought! The words practically sounded like a proposal. Was Emily hoping Connor would stop her wedding? That he’d speak now rather than hold his peace?

      “Okay,” she said with the hope of defusing the situation, “so Emily invited you.”

      “That’s not an invitation. It’s a cry for help.”

      “It’s—it’s closure,” she said, knowing she was grasping at straws. “Emily has moved on with her life, and she’s hoping you’ll do the same.”

      He frowned. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

      “Are you married? Engaged? In a serious relationship?” Kelsey pressed. Each shake of his head proved Kelsey’s point. He wasn’t over Emily.

      Kelsey couldn’t blame him. Her cousin was beautiful, inside and out. And experience had taught Kelsey how far a man would go to be a part of Emily’s life.

      Connor slid the invitation from her hand in what felt like a caress. “There’s no reason for me not to be here, Kelsey.”

      Here, in Arizona, to stop the wedding, she had to remind herself as she snatched her hand back and laced her fingers together beneath the table. Not here with her.

      The waitress’s arrival with their drinks spared Kelsey from having to come up with a response. Connor lifted his margarita. “To new friends.”

      Rising to the challenge this time, she tapped her glass against his. “And old lovers?”

      If she’d hoped to somehow put him in his place, she failed miserably. With a low chuckle, he amended, “Let’s make that old friends…and new lovers.”

      His vibrant gaze held her captive as he raised his glass. Ignoring the straw, he took a drink. A hum of pleasure escaped him. The sound seemed to vibrate straight from his body and into hers, a low-frequency awareness that shook her to the core.

      He lowered the glass and licked the tequila, salt and lime from his upper lip. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

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