The Best Man in Texas Read Online Free PDF Page B

at the country club.
    He laughed. “Good. Makes me feel better. I’m about fifteen minutes behind myself. I got blindsided with a client crisis.”
    “Which you no doubt solved,” she said loyally.
    “Unfortunately, no. I’m going to drive down to Corpus Christi tonight so that I can meet with them first thing in the morning. But I should be back tomorrow in plenty of time for the concert.”
    The tickets had been an early birthday gift from Meg, and Brooke had been touched that, this year, Meg had bought her something absolutely perfect. Instead of, say, the leather halter top Meg had given her six years ago, then promptly asked to borrow.
    Brooke loved music of all types. If she and Giff were having a larger wedding, she would have wanted a live band for the reception. Her favorite part of wedding reporting was probably the musical choices—whether there was a string quartet, organ player, recorded music or even bagpipes. The song chosen for the father-daughter dance. The song the bride walked down the aisle to—nothing wrong with the traditional Wedding March, she supposed, but a lot of women went with selections from Vivaldi or Handel. Or Zeppelin. In one of the weddings she’d written about last year, the bridal processional had been accompanied by “Stairway to Heaven.”
    She tried to imagine what she herself would use but drew a blank. Probably because she didn’t yet have anaisle to walk down. After today, they should be closer to resolving that issue.
    The country club’s event coordinator, Gretchen, was a petite woman with such big hair that Brooke wondered how she got through the day without toppling over. Gretchen’s cheerful reminder that the venue had a capacity of up to 450 wasn’t exactly a selling point.
    “What is she not understanding about an intimate ceremony?” Brooke whispered to Giff.
    “My problem,” he returned under his breath, “isn’t that it’s too big. It’s too distracting. It overlooks the twelfth hole—half the male guests will be thinking it’s a pretty day to hit the greens. And I don’t really want golf carts zooming by the window while we exchange vows.”
    The next place, a community hall built nearly forty years ago and available for rental, didn’t feel quite right, either. In addition to a giant Lone Star flag covering the top quarter of one wall, the decor included some hunting trophies with eyes that seemed to follow Brooke wherever she moved.
    “It’s quaint,” Giff told the leasing agent. “I can absolutely see having a large birthday party here or a corporate barbecue, but it seems a bit rustic for the wedding.” On the walk out to his Lexus, he added for Brooke’s ears only, “I kept imagining you in a cowboy hat with a bridal veil attached.”
    “Which do exist,” she confirmed. “But I hadn’t planned on wearing one.”
    Their third option, a pretty bed-and-breakfast, was closest to what Brooke had imagined, but Giff seemedambivalent when they promised the manager they’d get back to her.
    “Are you sorry we can’t use your church?” Brooke asked.
    The Baker family had been longtime members of a Methodist church near Grace’s house, but according to the church’s wedding coordinator, they were booked through winter.
    “Not really.” He looked pensive as he opened the passenger door for her. Once he’d climbed in on his own side, he added, “The last major family event there was my dad’s funeral. I hate that you never got a chance to meet him. He would have liked you.”
    “I’m sure I would have liked him, too.” There was a sudden knot in Brooke’s throat. Not for the first time since she’d started dating Giff, it occurred to her that, while her parents might not be perfect, they loved her and they were healthy. She was lucky to have them.
    “I know it’s been years since my dad died,” Giff said, sounding abashed that it had an effect on him even now, “but…”
    “He was your father. It’s natural that you’d