Page 2 of Aisle Be The Groom (Bristlecone Springs #1)

OZZIE

A sinking feeling of déjà vu attacked me as I deplaned with the rest of the passengers of flight 49. It was last Christmas all over again. Flying to Denver without my fiancé hadn’t been a part of the plan. We were supposed to arrive in the city together. We were supposed to rent a car, spend a night at Carter’s mother’s, and continue the two-hour journey to Bristlecone Springs the next day. We were supposed to make a good impression this time when we met his father.

Carter might not have been bothered by how disappointed his dad had been over the holidays, but I hadn’t been able to get him out of my mind. He’d looked devastated when he found out his son came so close but had no intention of seeing him. No amount of cajoling on my part had persuaded Carter to put off the trip to Aspen to spend some time with his father.

I shuffled forward in the slow-moving line to get through airport security. I’d flown economy while my fiancé had purchased first-class tickets for two of his buddies for their trip to the Bahamas.

“Sir, will you step aside for me, please?”

I stifled a groan as the airport security officer singled me out. What was it about me that screamed I had drugs hiding under my folds? They swabbed my hands, opened my carry-on, and went through the contents with quick efficiency. They checked my bottle of aspirin and even bent the spine of the paperback I’d been reading on the plane.

“Thank you for your cooperation, sir,” the security officer said, his attention already on another traveler. “Have a good day.”

I mumbled a reply, gathered my belongings, and headed to the baggage claim. When I powered my phone on, the screen showed a few missed calls from Carter. The tension in my shoulders eased, and I smiled. He’d called, so that meant he’d been thinking about me.

I redialed his number and waited off to the side while the other passengers from my flight crowded around the baggage carousel. From experience, I knew better than to get too close until most had already claimed their bags. People always gave me the stink eye, as if I was taking up more space than I should.

“Hey there, porky,” Carter answered. “I’ve been trying to get through to you.”

God, I wish he would stop calling me that.

“Sorry, Car. I’ve just gone through airport security.”

“Listen, babe, I can’t talk for long. Me and the guys are about to go snorkeling. Just wanted to make sure you got there okay. I know how much you hate flying.”

“Then why didn’t you make the trip with me?” Please let him hear the pouting in my voice.

“Babe, I already told you. It’s my last trip with the boys as a free man.”

“You’re not free, Carter. We’re not married yet, but we are in a committed relationship, so I hope you’re not doing anything you’re not supposed to.”

“You mean like sowing my wild oats with an island girl?” His laugh grated on my nerves. “If not now, then when?”

“Carter!”

“I’m just joking. Lighten up, porky.”

I gritted my teeth. “And stop calling me that. It’s degrading.”

“It’s not. It’s cute and fits you perfectly. Anyway, I wanted you to know we’re spending a few more days here, so I’ll get there later than planned.”

I sucked in a deep breath, clenching the phone when a man rushing toward the baggage carousel jostled me. “Carter, you promised. I only made the trip without you because you said you would arrive tomorrow.”

“If you saw it here, you would understand.”

“I could have, but you didn’t want me there.”

“Don’t say it like that. You don’t know the guys that well, and you know how you get awkward and self-conscious around others. I didn’t want to ruin the trip.”

“Are you seriously saying that to me?” Sometimes he could be so clueless I wanted to scream at him, but I didn’t. I swallowed hard and pushed down the lump in my throat. He meant well. He just put his foot into his mouth sometimes. Too many times.

“Listen, I gotta go, babe. I’ll let you know when I’ve booked the new flight. Dad should be there to pick you up.”

“You mean you haven’t even booked your new flight yet?”

I was talking to myself. Carter had already hung up. I grunted my frustration and shoved my phone into my pocket. No way was I staying in Bristlecone Springs without him. I didn’t know anyone in the small town, and I didn’t even think his father liked me. He’d been polite and charming for the hours we’d had to spend together last Christmas at his house before the snow let up. But I never quite forgot the way he’d stared at me in shock when I announced I was engaged to Carter. How awkward would it be to stay at his ranch without his son?

Yes, I would fly back home. The minute I got my baggage, I would go to the check-in area. One of the airlines had to have a flight to D.C. leaving within the hour. Just when I grabbed after my cherry-red suitcase, an enormous man stepped in front of me and plucked the suitcase from the band.

“Sir, I’m afraid that’s mine,” I said.

“I should hope so.” The masculine voice stopped me in my tracks. I’d heard that deep rumble only on one occasion, but I would never forget such a rich baritone. It was all male, a far cry from his son’s higher-pitched tone.

Mr. Magnuson turned to me with a smile. “Ozzie, right? Nice to meet you again.” He put my suitcase down and extended a hand toward me. His grip was strong and warm. I was a big guy and had always been, but Mr. Magnuson was a different kind of big. He was a mountain of a man with a short beard, squared jawline, and broad shoulders. He wore an open flannel shirt over a T-shirt, which stretched across him in a close fit that accentuated the solid wall of his chest and the bulging muscles in his arms.

My mouth went dry, and a tremor shot up my arm. When he released my hand, I let out a breath.

“Yes, it’s Ozzie or Oz. Some friends call me Zie. Whatever feels normal to you. I’m not particular.” Except to being called porky.

“Ozzie will do.” He had nice gray eyes bracketed by crow’s feet that crinkled his deeply tanned skin. He must spend a lot of time out in the sun. He looked good for a man who was pushing fifty, at least a decade younger. “Is this all you brought?”

“There’s another suitcase with the wedding stuff.”

“That’s right. Congrats again on the engagement. I’m afraid the last time we met, I might not have seemed pleased, but the news came as a shock. Carter hadn’t mentioned anything.”

“It’s okay. I understand. Thanks again for offering to have the wedding at the ranch and taking care of the expenses.”

I hadn’t been keen on the idea, but Carter had insisted that we take his father’s offer, so we didn’t have to spend our own money. Mr. Magnuson’s offer had come with a catch, though; we had to host the ceremony on his ranch.

A wedding on a ranch wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured my big day. I’d been thinking about it since I was nine and convinced myself I would marry my fourth-grade teacher after he stopped a bully from picking on me. It hadn’t mattered to me he was already married and wasn’t even gay. The man might have changed, but I still had the dream of a beautiful beach wedding.

Not anymore.

“Don’t mention it,” Mr. Magnuson said. “Do you spot the other bag?”

Carter’s father unsettled me. Five minutes in his presence and I was getting all flustered about the wedding again.

“There it is.”

I stepped forward, but Mr. Magnuson placed a firm hand on my waist. “I’ve got it.”

The warmth of his touch seeped through my clothes, and I froze. He grabbed the suitcase like it weighed nothing and set it on its feet. “I guess this is it. Let’s go.” He frowned. “Something wrong?”

My cheeks heated, and I averted my face to hide my blush. What the hell’s wrong with me?

“No.”

“All right, then. This way.”

“I can take one of the suitcases.”

“You already have your carry-on. It’s fine.”

I followed Mr. Magnuson through the airport, feeling oddly out of place beside his towering frame. The contrast between us was stark—me, not just large but also soft, carrying the extra pounds that had always been a part of me, and him, all hard muscles and rugged handsomeness. Even his walk was a confident swagger that made people part way for him naturally, while I always felt like I was in the way.

Without me having to ask, he slowed his pace so I didn’t have to run to keep up with him. I didn’t think he did it because he noticed I was a bit breathless. His reaction to things happening around him seemed effortless, as if deep down, he was attuned to his environment and adapted on the spot without considering it too much.

At the elevator, he stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter first. It was a minor act that caught me off guard. Carter rarely showed such simple signs of courtesy, always too invested in his world. If he wasn’t on his phone talking with one of his friends, he was playing one of his many games.

“Thank you.” I entered, and he followed and stood close. Close enough I smelled the light musk of sweat from his body mingling with a woodsy cologne. The scent was much subtler than the cloud of citrusy mix Carter doused himself in. I tightened my hand on the handle of my carry-on and looked straight ahead, my posture tense.

“Are you okay with heights?” Mr. Magnuson asked as the elevator ascended.

“Yeah. I’m just not a fan of small, crowded spaces,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He nodded. “I get that. Wide-open spaces are more my thing too.”

At least he doesn’t seem to hate me anymore.

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into the parking lot. I took a deep breath, the tension easing a bit. Mr. Magnuson led the way to a large, black, well-kept pickup that was clean, though it showed signs of wear in the paint job.

“I’ll load the suitcases into the truck.” He disengaged the alarm and opened the passenger door for me. It wouldn’t do to get used to this sort of treatment at all.

He waited patiently until I had a proper hold on the raised step and hoisted myself up. I plunked down on the soft leather seat, and he closed the door. With shaking hands, I locked my seat belt while he loaded the suitcases into the back. I sneaked a peek in the rearview mirror. He effortlessly picked up the luggage, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt.

“Would you like to stop anywhere on the way?” Mr. Magnuson asked when he settled down behind the steering wheel. “It’ll take us close to two hours to get to the ranch.”

“We’re not stopping at your wife’s place?”

“My wife? Why would we stop there?”

He seemed genuinely confused by my question. Mrs. Magnuson was a frigid woman who I’d overheard telling Carter I wasn’t quite right for him. I’d never been able to shake her words and wasn’t keen on visiting her.

“Oh, nothing. I just thought since we were in Denver and she lives here, you would want to say hello.”

He didn’t comment but started the engine, which also brought the radio to life. “And you don’t need me to stop so you can get something to eat?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay, then, seems like it’ll just be the two of us again. Much like it was last Christmas, right?”

“I guess. If it’s a problem, I can always find a bed-and-breakfast in the town and stay there until Carter arrives.”

“Why would you do that? What kind of father-in-law would I be?”

I chuckled uneasily. “We don’t know each other well. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Relax, Ozzie. I’m a blunt man. If I’m uncomfortable, you bet your sweet ass I’d let you know.”

My mouth fell open, and my ability to speak vanished. Sweet ass? Was it just an expression, or did he mean…?

Of course it’s just an expression. Your ass is huge, not sweet.

The radio prevented the silence from becoming awkward. He turned up the volume, effectively cutting off all attempts at a conversation. Why did he seem so distant suddenly? He knew I didn’t take his comment personally, didn’t he?

Sinking back into the seat, I closed my eyes. Maybe pretending to be asleep was for the best.