Her Best Friend's Wedding

He snorted. “As in, she’s not real. And if you’re suggesting your crush on Daniel compares with some Southern belle fighting to save her ancestral home from marauders…”

“Now you’re being pathetic.” Sadie poked his chest, which was just about the most annoying thing she could have done. “Look, Trey, you might think it’s pathetic to want Daniel after Meg breaks up with him, but I’m not used to being handed whatever I want. I don’t get to go through life flirting and smiling and having people favor me for my good looks.”

“Meg is your friend,” he reminded her, even though she’d neatly summed up some of the most irritating things about his sister.

“And I adore her. As does everyone else. With the possible exception of you.”

Damn, how had Sadie picked up on that, when he’d barely seen her in years? “Don’t try and deflect attention from your scheming,” he said.

“Meg gets an easy ride in lots of ways, but she’s had tough times, too, so I’d never begrudge her.” She was talking about his dad and Logan, Trey realized. “But if I have a goal, I expect to struggle to achieve it. I’m willing to put the work in. To go after what I want single-mindedly.” She paused. “Aggressively.”

“You’re too late. Daniel chose Meg.”

Sadie toed a crack in the sidewalk with her sneaker. “Of course Daniel is attracted to Meg. I’ve never met a man who wasn’t. But I deal in facts and logic, and the fact is, he and Meg have nothing in common.”

“Opposites attract,” he retorted. “Which makes them the ideal couple.” He didn’t exactly believe that, but even when Sadie had been a teenager, there’d been no room for pussyfooting. You had to come down hard with your opinion and stick to it through whatever obscure logic that brain of hers devised.

“I think he’s confused,” she said thoughtfully, as if Daniel was a seed under a microscope. “He’s at an age where it’s natural to think about a long-term relationship. But a part of him is rebelling against commitment. Subconsciously he’s choosing someone unsuitable, guaranteed not to work out.”

This wasn’t logic—this was denial on a global scale.

“Sadie, I don’t think Daniel is rebelling against commitment.”

Something flashed across her face. Fear? “I believe most men do at some stage,” she said with a hint of uncertainty. “Look at you, a classic example. Over thirty, by most women’s standards a hot guy—” the crinkle in her forehead made it plain she found most women’s taste questionable “—and still playing the field like super jock, according to your sister.”

“I’m not afraid of commitment. I have way too much commitment in my life. And Daniel’s not afraid, either.” Aware of his muscles cooling off and starting to stiffen, Trey began jogging.

Sadie trotted at his side. “Trey, it doesn’t matter which of them realizes first how unsuited they are, I’m certain this thing will end soon.” Conviction grew in her voice. “It would be pointless for me to hold it against Daniel forever that he’d once liked Meg.”

The sentiment went against Trey’s deepest belief: being second choice was no choice at all.

“I believe he and Meg are serious,” he said.

They ran in silence for a minute or two. As they turned the corner onto Arlington, they passed the Jones place. Where once there had been two tons of dirt and a tangle of scrub, there was now a flowing garden that invited people to linger among its colors and scents. It was one of Kincaid Nurseries’ biggest success stories, but it had almost been a disaster. After demanding several redesigns, Mrs. Jones had fired Kincaid’s because the company’s landscape designer “didn’t get it.” When Trey visited her to discuss the problem, it turned out he and Mrs. Jones were on the same horticultural wavelength. Although he wasn’t a landscape designer—most of his time was spent on the management side of the business rather than on the plants—they’d reworked the design together. The client had been delighted with the result.

Sadie stopped running. She steadied herself with a hand to the trunk of a maple tree; Trey could see a tremor in her calf muscles.

“Meg loves parties and travel. Daniel is sensible and responsible and settled,” she said when she’d caught her breath.

For someone who was convinced she was right, she was working awfully hard to prove her point.

“They have less in common than—than you and I do,” she continued.

“If you really want a boyfriend, wouldn’t it be simpler if you found someone else?” he asked. “Come on, Sadie, there must be other—”

“I don’t just like Daniel,” she blurted. “I love him.”

CHAPTER FIVE

SADIE CRINGED. Trey was staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.

Then one side of his mouth rose and he said, “I love Daniel, too.”

She stumbled on her shoelace and would have sprawled headlong if Trey hadn’t caught her.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

“Seems you and I have more in common than you thought.”

“What did you mean?” Because clearly he’d intended to put her off balance.

“Daniel is exactly what my sister needs,” he said. “What’s not to love?”

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’ve had enough of your inane views. You can run a different way home.” She stepped off the curb.

Trey caught her hand. “I’m not done talking to you yet.”

“Too bad, because I’m done with you.” Her whole arm tingled. The overexertion was probably giving her a heart attack.

He tugged her backward, forcing her to step up onto the curb or trip over. “Come in here.” He indicated a white wooden gate set into a high fence.

Sadie shivered as perspiration cooled on her skin. “Quit ordering me around and quit dragging me.”

“Fine.” He folded his arms as if he might otherwise give in to his caveman instincts. “Please come into this garden with me, Sadie,” he said with excessive politeness.

“Why should I?”

“I don’t like arguing in the street. Mrs. Jones said I can show her garden to prospective clients anytime.”

“I’m not a client.”

“It’s a great garden,” Trey coaxed. “You’ll love it.”

He’d hit her soft spot. She might not be any good at growing plants, but she adored a beautiful garden.

And just maybe she was curious about why he thought Daniel and Meg would last.

Sadie stuck her chin in the air and preceded him through the gate. Then stopped.

“Oh, wow.” She gazed around the garden, scarcely hearing the clang of the gate closing behind her. A canopy of Japanese dappled willows. Crape myrtles. A redbud tree arcing over a pond filled with water lilies. It looked like a Monet painting, only better—impressionist art was too vague for her taste. “Trey, it’s gorgeous. Kincaid Nurseries designed this?”

“The concept was mine,” he said. “Our landscape architects refined it.”

“I didn’t know you were a designer.”

“I’m not,” he said. “How come you’re in love with Daniel? I thought your work overrode the urge to settle down like the rest of your siblings.”

Now that she’d stopped moving, every muscle in her body screamed. She sank onto the grass, ignoring the vestiges of dew. “You’re right that I’m not hanging out for the PTA meetings and the cupcake recipes,” she said. “But love isn’t something you plan. When you find someone special, you have to go for it.” She trailed her fingers through the pond water to find the waxy leaves of a water lily. “What if Daniel is the only man for me? My whole future could be at stake.”

“Sounds like your biological clock ticking,” he said, unimpressed. “You’re what, thirty?”

“Twenty-nine,” she said. “Same as Meg. And that stupid term was probably invented by some man afraid of commitment. Women are born with a fixed number of oocytes—egg cells to you—that decrease over forty years or so of fertility, starting around the age of twelve. Every woman’s biological clock is ticking, regardless of age.”

Trey wasn’t so easily distracted.

“Leave Meg and Daniel alone,” he said abruptly, sitting beside her.

She fingered the water lily. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“And stop mauling that lily.”

She bristled at the command, but stilled her fingers out of respect for the flower.

“It wouldn’t hurt to take a good look around before you decide Daniel is your fate, would it?” he asked. “There must be thousands of eligible males in Cordova alone, and you probably know half of them. Who did you date in high school?”

Sadie would have liked to reel off a list of teenage suitors, but the guys at her “genius school” were late starters, and back here in Cordova her flat chest and general shyness had meant most of Meg’s attempts to introduce her to local boys hadn’t worked out. “I dated Kevin McDonald at the end of senior year. The guy my parents bribed to take me to the Millennial Centennial dance after you turned me down.”

The turn of the millennium had also marked one hundred years of Cordova being called Cordova, after a succession of other names hadn’t stuck. The dance had crowned a week of Fourth of July celebrations and had been the biggest event in a generation.

Trey winced. “You’re not still steamed over that, are you? You only asked me to the dance because you were desperate.”

“You knew that?” she said, disconcerted.

He rolled his eyes. “You thought I’d believe my sister’s best friend, who clearly thought all football players were morons, had suddenly developed a crush on me?”

“I did think you were moron enough for that,” she admitted.

He laughed, his ego undented. “It wasn’t my fault your parents reacted by phoning all over town to find you a date. But back to the current desperate state of your love life—” He paused. “Hey, do you sense a recurring theme here?”

“Two repetitions are insufficient to form a pattern,” she said stiffly.

He grinned. “Here’s a thought. Kevin McDonald will be at Mom’s lunch today, and he’s divorced. A definite contender.”

“I can tell from that gleam in your eyes there’s something wrong with him.”

“Let’s just say that if you liked Kevin back then, there’s a whole lot more of him to like now.”

Trey could afford to scoff at someone else’s spreading bulk—he was still in great shape. Muscle corded his forearms, and his legs were lean and strong. Unlike her, he hadn’t broken a sweat on their run. Sadie peeled her tank away from her damp skin to admit some air. When she caught Trey watching, she dropped the fabric.

“Maybe Lexie Peterson has spread, too,” she suggested. Lexie had been one of Meg’s friends, a cheerleader, the perfect girlfriend for the quarterback. These days, she had her own party-planning business in Memphis.

“Lexie’s still hot, she emailed me photos recently.”

“Ew.”

“Swimsuit shots,” he said.

“I expect it’s her uniform for those pool parties she organizes,” Sadie said kindly. “Poor girl probably catches endless chills.”

He laughed. “I used to think you were boring, Sadie Beecham. Being thwarted in love suits you.”

Tears leaped to her eyes before she could banish them.

“Way to ruin a moment,” he said, disgusted. “Forget the doctor, cupcake.”

The cupcake jolted both of them. She stared.

“Figure of speech,” he explained.

“I knew that,” she said.

Trey stood. “Are we agreed you’ll stay away from Daniel?” He stuck out a hand; when she took it, he pulled her to her feet.

“Meg and Daniel are my friends, so I will continue to spend time with them,” Sadie said. “And I’ll be there for both of them when this thing ends.”

Trey growled.

Sadie brushed her hands against her shorts as she started back toward the road.

“I’ll be watching you at lunch today,” he said. “If you do anything to hurt Meg…”

“I wouldn’t!”

“Then why are you wearing sexy clothes?”

She glanced down at her tank, darkened by a damp patch between her breasts.

“At the barbecue last night,” he clarified. “You didn’t used to wear stuff like that.”

“You didn’t used to look. Those clothes weren’t new.”

“And when you arrived yesterday you gave me that flirty smile.”

“That fake smile,” she corrected. “I was putting on a cheerful face for my family.”

“You can trot out all the excuses you want,” he said. “I don’t believe you.” With his hand he applied pressure to the small of her back. “Come on, you’ve had a rest—time to run some more.”

She started to move. Her lungs protested immediately, her breath rasping.

Trey looked down at her in disgust. “I’d better get you home before you collapse.”

“If I do, Daniel can give me mouth-to-mouth,” she said, unable to stop herself from goading him.

“I’ll give you mouth-to-mouth,” he retorted.

His gaze alighted on her lips. Energy crackled in the air. Not the kind of energy her exhausted limbs needed.

“I meant if it should become medically necessary,” Trey said lightly.

Was it her imagination, or was he a little red in the face?

“Thanks, but Daniel’s better qualified,” she said.

His eyebrows drew together, all lightness gone. “Don’t mess with me, Sadie. If you don’t keep away from Daniel, I’ll warn him and Meg you’re in love with him.”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Probably because his threat had stopped her heart.

Before she could recover, he was gone, running effortlessly away from her.

TREY HAD JUST GOT off the phone from an orchid breeder in Florida on Monday morning—he was negotiating an exclusive agreement to sell the guy’s award-winning new orchid in Tennessee—when Daniel arrived in his office doorway.

“Dan, come in.” Trey went to shake his hand.

“Thanks.” The doctor took one of the vinyl seats that dated back to Trey’s dad. “Actually, I prefer to be called Daniel.”

“Sure.” Trey perched on the edge of his dad’s desk, a rough-hewn pine top mounted on two trestles. “Hope you don’t mind me asking you here, but I wanted to talk.”

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