He's No Prince Charming (20 page)

“Good. I’ll call you later when I get finished with work,” he said, and turned to go. At the doorway, however, he paused and pivoted to face her. “By the way, your song wasn’t the only thing I couldn’t get out of my head,” he said quietly.

Dakota’s eyes widened a fraction, and she put one hand to her chest. Then she gave him a smile that shot straight to his heart, and for a moment he was rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of her. She stood there with her messy hair, bare feet, and without a stitch of makeup, and Trace didn’t think he had ever seen a sexier sight. He smiled back, something that was becoming second nature once again, and then turned to go before he simply had to stay.

With a thudding heart and butterflies in her stomach, Dakota watched Trace walk away. Emotion, warm and velvety, washed over her, and she knew in that moment that she was falling in love with Trace Coleman. Of course, she realized she didn’t exactly have a lot of experience, having dated only sporadically, but even still, her heart seemed to have been waiting for this very moment, and somehow she just knew. She also knew—at least she thought she knew—that Trace felt the same way, even though she was sure he was fighting it.

“Go ahead and fight it, Trace Coleman,” Dakota said to herself. “Give it your best shot, but you won’t win,” she added with a determined smile.

Dakota stood there for a minute longer, savoring the soft yet giddy feeling that made her want to twirl in a circle. And so she did, but then lost her balance and had to grab hold of the kitchen counter. She laughed out loud, loving this silly, happy, and yet slightly frightening blend of emotions that made her want to do something loud and crazy.

Love.
The word swirled around in her brain and oozed downward, and she thought about twirling around again but didn’t risk it. Instead, she grabbed her Mountain Dew and headed to her bedroom for her guitar, knowing that creativity was going to go straight from her heart to her fingers.

Evidently, falling in love with a big, bad, broody cowboy was quite an inspiration, because she didn’t stop to take a break until the pads of her fingertips became tender and raw. By the end of the week, Dakota wanted to have a half dozen songs to send to Vince Marruso, and at the rate she was going, it shouldn’t be a problem.

Life, she decided, was finally looking up.

“Do you think my hair looks silly like this?” Sierra asked while scrutinizing her updo in the mirror. “Tell me the truth.”

“No,” Dakota assured her. “It makes your neck appear longer and looks very sophisticated.”

Sierra rolled her eyes. “That’s just it. I’m not sophisticated. What if Grady laughs?”

“Then I’ll punch him in the nose.”

“Yeah, right. You don’t even know how to punch.”

“Then I’ll kick him in the shin,” Dakota said.

“You’d break a toe in those silly-ass shoes.”

“Sierra, you look amazing. Grady isn’t going to laugh. If anything, he’s going to trip over his own tongue.”

Sierra inhaled a deep breath and looked down at her high-heeled shoes. “He’ll laugh when I fall and put another crack in my ass. How’d you talk me into these anyway?” she asked.

“It was hours into our shopping excursion and you were so ready to leave that I could have talked you into combat boots. You were coming up with ways to kill me that would have stumped
CSI
.”

“Oh, right. I had blocked it from my brain.”

Dakota looked down at Sierra’s white sling-back sandals and her shiny red toenails, which they had painted earlier. “You aren’t going to fall. Look, we’re both short and we’re both with tall men. We had to have heels in order to dance.”

Sierra leaned against the vanity and groaned. “I can’t dance! I’m going to be a total walking disaster. Just watch me fall into the cake! Or that pond they dug that’s full of big goldfish.”

“Come on. Cowgirl up. Now take a good, hard look at yourself.”

Sierra looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her smile trembled at the corners, but she nodded. “Not too shabby, I guess.” Then she swallowed hard. “If you make me cry, I’m gonna slap you silly,” she said, and dabbed at the corner of her eyes with some toilet paper. “Dakota, I know I suck at being nice and everything, but I have to tell you that I’m sure glad you moved here. It’s not far-fetched to say that you’ve changed my life.”

Dakota felt tears well up in her own eyes. “And you’ve changed mine,” she said, but then felt a little flash of fear when the thought suddenly occurred to her that if all went well, she would most likely be moving to Nashville. She had been so wrapped up in her songwriting that she hadn’t really thought past getting it done. Wow, her heart thumped hard at the thought.

Sierra put a hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a spider.”

“I am so over the whole spider thing.”

“Really?”

“Not really, but I’m fine.” She gave her a short, swift nod and then reached for her lip gloss. Not wanting to spoil the evening, she pushed the possibility of moving away from her mind, telling herself that she would cross that bridge if and when it happened. She glanced at her thin gold watch. “Trace should be here soon. You’re still meeting Grady at the wedding, right?”

“Yes. He wanted to come over and pick me up, but I know he’s needed at the farm. He said Miranda was doing fine, but his mother was wigging out.”

Dakota gave her a little nudge with her elbow. “You are going to knock Grady’s socks off,” she said.

Sierra snorted. “More like step on his feet, but whatever.”

Dakota looked at Sierra in the mirror and shook her head slowly. “He is so into you.”

“Shut up.”

“He is, and you know it.”

She turned and looked at Dakota. “It’s hard for me to believe.”

“Believe it.”

Sierra smiled. “I’m trying,” she said, and then her eyes widened. “Ohmigod, but Dakota, you and Trace? That is such a love story. If anyone had said he would be going to a big wedding, I wouldn’t have believed it. Have you noticed that he doesn’t limp so much or try to hide his scar with his hair? Amazing. It’s like he’s been transformed. You are so good for him. Oh, crap. I’m about to cry again!”

“Let’s stop this mushy stuff and get our drink on,” Dakota said in her best Sierra imitation.

“Now, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Woo hoo, girl, you are really starting to fit in here,” she said, and put her hand over her mouth when there was a knock at the door.

Sierra peeked out the small bathroom window and turned to Dakota. “Grady is with Trace after all. Ohmigod, he looks amazing in his tux. And holy crap, Trace cut his hair! And shaved! Here, squeeze next to me.”

“Wow, he sure did.” Dakota blinked at him in amazement. His hair was still on the long side, but trimmed up nicely. The five-o’clock shadow was gone, and the scar that always stood out before seemed to fade into his skin. The light blue summer suit brought out his eyes, accentuated his deep tan and made his shoulders appear even wider. “Hot damn,” Dakota whispered, drawing a low but decidedly nervous chuckle from Sierra as they ducked their heads so as not to be seen.

Sierra took Dakota’s hand as they walked toward the front door, then suddenly stopped. “If I fall in these
Sex and the City
shoes, I’m gonna toss you into the pond with those big, ugly spotted fish.”

“You won’t fall,” Dakota promised her. “Just don’t drink too much.”

“Like that’s gonna happen,” she scoffed in her best kick-ass tone, but she gripped Dakota’s hand like a lifeline.

Dakota gave Sierra’s hand a reassuring pat before opening the door. “Hi, guys. Come on in.”

Trace stepped inside first, followed by Grady, who said, “You ladies look amazing.”

“I sure hope so,” Sierra said. “Took all doggone day! I mean, really, this process started at the crack of dawn. We’re buffed, puffed, exfoliated, and tweezed literally starting from our toes to the hair on our head. Every inch on me is as smooth as a baby’s bottom. And dear lord, I’m givin’ y’all way too much information, aren’t I?”

Trace and Grady stood there and blinked, but Dakota angled her head and said, “Yes, you are.” She made a motion like she was zipping her mouth shut.

“I told you I’m a teensy bit nervous,” Sierra said, and turned back to Trace and Grady. “Well, you boys look good enough to eat.”

“Sierra!” Dakota whispered, and widened her eyes in a stop-it look.

“You know you were thinkin’ the same thing. Admit it,” Sierra challenged.

When all eyes were on her, Dakota felt her cheeks grow warm. Trace arched one dark eyebrow and Grady struck a pose, and suddenly they were all laughing.

When Grady offered his arm, Sierra asked, “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be helpin’?”

Grady groaned. “I had to escape the madness. You were my excuse.”

“Oh, nice—put it on my shoulders!”

Trace and Dakota laughed, drawing a fake glare from Sierra.

Grady grinned. “Yeah, I thought it was a good plan.”

Sierra slid her arm through his. “Well, I just hope I don’t embarrass you in front of the fancy-ass Yankees. I’ll try to pipe it down.”

Grady looked down at her. “Sierra, don’t you dare change a thing. I love you just the way you are.”

Dakota’s hand went to her chest and she exchanged a quick look with Sierra, whose eyes rounded.

Grady remained unruffled and gave Sierra a light kiss on the lips. “I meant to say that. Maybe not in front of people the first time,” he joked, but then turned serious, “but I meant it.”

Sierra gave him a smile that trembled at the corners. “If you make my mascara run, I’ll kick your ass,” she said in a husky voice full of emotion.

“You and what army?” he replied, but looked down at her with adoring eyes. “We’d better go, or my mother will send the police after me.” He turned to Trace and Dakota. “See y’all there.”

After they left, Dakota turned to Trace. “You’re awfully quiet.”

He shrugged those impossibly wide shoulders. “Who could get a word in edgewise with those two?”

Dakota nodded. “I get the feeling that Grady has finally met his match,” she commented with a laugh. But then she said, “Trace, I know this is a big step for you.”

He shrugged again. “Yeah, and I teased you for being afraid of a spider. Here I am getting intimidated by a backyard wedding.” He ran a hand down his face and sighed.

“We don’t have to go,” she softly assured him. “We’re sort of crashers anyway.”

He put his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. “I need to do this,” he told her, and then shook his head. “No, I want to do this.”

“Then we will do it together. And by the way, you look so very dashingly handsome. I’ll be the envy of every girl there.”

Something flashed in his eyes, as if he might dispute the fact, but then he said, “Thank you. Dashing, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, you’re beautiful, Dakota.” He smiled at her. “Hey, you know what?”

“What?”

“You’re good for me.”

She put her palms on his chest and looked up at him. “We’re good for each other,” she amended, and pulled his head down for a soft kiss. Finally, she stepped back and slipped her hand in his. “Come on, let’s go.”

Trace turned to her and arched an eyebrow. “This wedding is going to be interesting.”

“Mmm, I think you could be right.”

Trace put his hand over hers and gave it a quick squeeze. “Stay there so I can come around to get your door.”

“Okay. It might be slow going in these sandals.” She tilted her toes up and winced. “Sierra is going to kill me.”

“You’ll be all right once we get to the backyard. Just hold on to my arm.”

Trace took a deep breath as he rounded the bed of the truck, trying to calm a sudden flash of nerves that twisted in his gut. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a suit or with a beautiful woman on his arm, and now here he was doing both in a big crowd of people. It was widely known that he had retreated from society, and his appearance with Dakota Dunn, no less, was sure to cause quite a stir.

“What the hell am I doing?” he muttered beneath his breath, but when he opened the door and Dakota smiled, his trepidation vanished and was replaced with a hot rush of something that he suddenly realized was happiness. He smiled back as his hands spanned her waist and he helped her down to the soft grass. All the while, he thought that this wasn’t a fleeting feeling of elation that came from covering a bull or winning an event, but rather a deep sense of contentment that Trace knew could be long and lasting if he would allow his heart to open up and accept it.

With her hands braced on his shoulders, Dakota looked in his eyes, and although no words were spoken it was as if she understood what he was thinking. “Dakota,” he said, about to lean down and kiss her, when a loud, booming voice startled them both.

“Hey there, y’all better watch out for cow pies!” yelled a portly man dressed in a suit a good two sizes too small. His white hair stuck out at odd angles and his equally white beard grew clear to his chest, making him look like Santa Claus gone wild.

Dakota gave Trace a little nudge and whispered, “Don’t worry, I don’t think he’s the real Santa.”

Trace chuckled. “But now you can see why I was afraid.”

While hobbling their way, Santa Gone Wild yelled, “We tried our best to clean ’em up, but I’d be on the lookout jest the same. One of them fancy-pants ladies stepped in one and was as mad as a hornet. Miranda’s daddy sent me out here to warn everybody else to be careful. I suggested a sign, but Tara would have none of it.” He extended his hand, making his sleeve go halfway up his forearm. “Sam Dickens. Guessin’ from your truck y’all are friends of the bride. Miranda’s my godchild.” He puffed his chest out with pride, making Trace wonder if the one button fastened over his belly was going to pop off like a slingshot.

Trace shook Sam’s hand. “Trace Coleman. And this is my, um, friend Dakota Dunn.” He glanced uncertainly at Dakota, but he wasn’t sure how to introduce her.

“Well, I’ll be—I thought it was you!” He pumped Trace’s hand hard. “It’s an honor. Truly. You are a legend. Nobody’s ever gonna be better ’n you.”

“Thanks,” Trace said quietly.

“You know there’s been many a time when I was gonna head on over to Willow Creek Marina just to get the chance to shake your hand, but I knew you were keepin’ to yerself and I wanted to respect yer privacy.”

Trace inclined his head. “I appreciate that, sir.”

“Oh, dang it—call me Sam!” he protested, and finally realized he was still pumping Trace’s hand and abruptly stopped. “Sorry, got carried away,” he apologized, and then focused his attention on Dakota. “Nice to meet you too,” he said, and shook her hand politely. “I know your mama and daddy. Real good folks, and they are proud as peacocks of you.” He leaned in closer. “It’s not common knowledge, but I know you saved Willow Creek Marina from development. Woulda ruined Pine Hollow Lake for us folks here in Tall Rock. I wanna thank you for that,” he said in a low, serious tone.

“I was happy to do it,” Dakota replied. “I have fond memories of the lake.”

“Good to have you back, Miss Dunn. And tell Rita Mae and Charley I said hi.” He took a step back and did a sweeping motion toward the big farmhouse. “I’ve taken up too much of yer time. You two better git on over there and find yerselves a seat. Remember to watch yer step.”

“Thanks.” Trace nodded. “Will do.” He cupped his hand around Dakota’s elbow. “Ready?”

“Yes, I am.” Realizing that his question probably had more than one meaning, Dakota nodded. She knew that they were at a crossroads in so many ways, and even though the future was uncertain, Dakota felt stronger and more focused than she had felt in a long time. Trace held on to her firmly, guiding her and yet allowing her to make her way carefully and slowly across the cow pasture. She had to all but tiptoe in her heels, but with his help she made it to the edge of the backyard.

Sierra immediately spotted them and waved from a seat close to the front, and while Dakota would have rather stayed in the back row, she couldn’t disappoint her friend, and waved back. Heads turned their way, many of them in recognition of either her or Trace, and when a murmur rippled through the crowd, Dakota gripped Trace’s hand a bit harder. She had never really been comfortable with her celebrity status, and felt a trickle of sweat roll down her back.

Stage fright.

She remembered it vividly even though she had kept it a secret from everyone and even denied it herself. That same frightening feeling washed over her like cold water on her warm skin, but she smiled as if she were completely at ease with all eyes upon her.

As if sensing her sudden discomfort, Trace gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She felt angry with herself that he was making this huge step back out into society, but she was the one wigging out, so she stiffened her backbone and didn’t let anyone see that she was afraid.

“Hey there,” Grady said, drawing Dakota’s attention away from her terror. He held out his arm to Dakota. “I was given strict orders to seat you two next to Sierra, or there would be hell to pay. And by the way, Miranda is stoked that you’re here, and I’m supposed to thank you.”

“Is she nervous?”

Grady shook his head. “She’s fine. It’s the mothers of the bride and groom that have their panties in a wad. I swear, when I get married it will be in Vegas with a preacher that looks like Elvis.”

“When?” Trace asked with a grin.

“I meant if I ever.”

“Right,” Trace commented with a slow nod. “Just a little slip of the tongue.”

“Quit talkin’ dirty to me,” Grady said in a stage whisper, then turned to Dakota. “Come on, gorgeous, let’s get you up by Sierra before she comes marching back here and seats you herself.”

Knowing eyes were still upon her, Dakota tucked her arm through Grady’s and walked down a white linen path between rows of white chairs leading up to a gazebo. The fishpond Sierra had talked about was to the right, gurgling peacefully, and wildflowers of every color adorned the gazebo and flowed from pots lining the path between the chairs. A huge tent had been erected near the big red barn, which she knew had been cleared out for dancing the night away.
Country chic
, Dakota thought; it was the perfect blending of both worlds.

As she walked down the aisle, Dakota had to smile at the difference between the groom’s and the bride’s family and friends. On the right, a colorful array of designer dresses and suits accented with gold and silver glinted in the late-day sunshine. On the left, Sunday-best dresses and suits in shades of tan and gray that only came out of the closet for weddings and funerals seemed calm and muted in contrast. The heady scent of flowers mingled with earthy farm, while a sense of anticipation filled the air.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Sierra asked when Dakota sat down next to her.

“It would be a lot more exciting if I had a cold beer in my hand,” Grady grumbled before heading off to do his groomsman duties.

“Hey there, Trace,” Sierra said. “Took y’all long enough to get here.”

Trace leaned over. “We were sidetracked in the parking lot,” he explained.

“Oh,” Sierra said and nodded. “Did Sam corner ya? He is a huge fan and was so excited to meet you. Others are looking your way.”

Trace nodded and was about to elaborate, but when the music started playing, a hush fell over the crowd and they all sat up straight and waited.

Since Dakota could never seem to control her tears at weddings, she folded her hands tightly in her lap and bit her bottom lip. Still, she found it difficult to maintain her composure when a sweet little flower girl in a beautiful beaded dress tossed red rose petals onto the white carpet. A wreath of rosebuds and baby’s breath sat slightly askew on her blond curls, adding to her shy charm. Two lovely bridesmaids wearing frothy green gowns walked slowly with the groomsmen.

“Grady looks so handsome,” Dakota whispered to Sierra, whose eyes were misting over as well.

The maid of honor was next, and then the congregation stood when the wedding march began. Miranda appeared looking radiant as she took her father ’s arm. Dakota had a sudden vision of her father doing the same thing, and felt a stab of longing for her parents. She vowed to call them if this country singing career took flight, and to come clean with them if it didn’t.

The ceremony was simple but lovely, with personal vows that had many a hanky dabbing at eyes. Dakota thought that Grady was wrong and the entire evening would move forward without a single hitch. But right after the preacher pronounced Miranda and Jason man and wife, someone yelled, “Woo hoo, let’s party!” Jaws dropped on the right side, while whoops and applause of agreement rang out on the left, including Grady’s, garnering a dual glare from Miranda and his mother. He quickly sobered and offered his arm to his brides-maid, who appeared to be the sister of the groom and was not amused.

And the festivities began.

As the night wore on, the beer and wine flowed and the lines between the haves and the have-nots blurred. After music started playing in the big red barn, hair literally came down. Pins from elaborate updos went flying, and Prada shoes were kicked off as easily as Payless. When someone spiked the punch, all bets were off.

The women dominated the dance floor while the men sat back with longneck bottles and shook their heads. When the band took a break, Dakota and Sierra came back to the table, breathless from kicking up their heels to “Cotton Eye Joe,” but when the speakers started blasting old-school disco, Dakota tugged Sierra to her bare feet and they were once again up on the floor. A circle of women formed with Miranda in the middle while they collectively belted out “It’s Raining Men.”

Someone, and Dakota thought it was Jason Dean McAllister III’s mother, shouted, “ ‘Dancing Queen’!” A shout of approval went up, and suddenly, in a redneck
Mamma Mia!
way, everyone was doing the Electric Slide to ABBA’s famous song. Cameras were rolling, and Dakota shouted to Sierra, “You just know we’re going to end up on YouTube!”

“I wish I knew how to do this stupid dance!” Sierra complained, and turned the wrong way. “Day-um!”

“Just follow everyone else,” Dakota shouted back, and sure enough Sierra easily caught on. After a hilarious attempt at “Booty Call,” the band returned for the next set, starting with the crowd pleasing “Friends in Low Places.”

“Whew!” Dakota said as she approached the table. “That was fun!” She picked up a napkin and dabbed at her forehead.

“Sure was!” Sierra yelped when Grady pulled her down onto his lap, almost tipping over the folding chair. She didn’t protest, though, when he kissed her soundly.

Dakota sat down next to Trace and smiled while fanning her face. “I haven’t had this much fun dancing in a long time!”

“Me neither,” Trace said with a grin.

“You weren’t dancing!”

“No, but I had fun watching you,” he said.

“I’m not so good, but I’ve always loved to dance,” Dakota said with a smile.

“The next very special song, ‘Listen to Your Heartbeat, ’ made it to number three on the
Billboard
charts,” the DJ suddenly announced, and then shaded his hand over his eyes as he gazed around the tables. “Dakota Dunn, are you in the house? Stand up and take a bow!”

Dakota’s eyes widened when an all-too-familiar song started playing. “Listen to your heartbeat,” her sixteen-year-old voice sang loud and clear through the speakers. “Yeah, yeah! Listen to your heartbeat, yeah, yeah!” Dakota put her hands to her cheeks and shook her head when the crowd started to cheer.

Sierra looked across the table at her. “Ohmigod, is that you?”

Dakota nodded slowly.

“Well, you heard the man! Stand up!” Sierra said, and wiggled her fingertips in a shooing motion.

“Do it!” Grady encouraged with a big grin.

Dakota glanced at Trace, who had an unreadable expression on his face. But he gave her a gentle nudge and leaned over next to her ear. “Go on, Dakota. Give the crowd what they want. You deserve the recognition.”

After giving him a small smile, Dakota scooted back her folding chair and stood up. When the crowd cheered louder, she waved. She sat back down and took a long swallow of beer.

“You have a great voice,” Trace said in her ear, and gave her a squeeze on her leg. “And a lot of talent.”

“Thanks,” she said. “This song has a lot of energy. It’s fun to dance to.”

“Then let’s do it.”

“You mean dance?”

Trace nodded. “Hey, I’ve got some moves,” he said in a mock-hurt tone, as he stood up and tugged her to her feet.