I pretend to be offended. “Well, that’s rich coming from a pregnant chick that doesn’t even know the father.”

She gasps, but the fire I’ve always loved so much sparks in her eyes. My girl may be down, but she’s not out.

For a split second, I worry I’ve gone too far, but then she spits out a laugh. “Touché.”

“Forget everything else. It’s you and me, babe…the way it was always supposed to be. Let’s do this. Marry me.”

Sammi dabs her nose with the Kleenex still balled in her fist. “You really want to do this?”

“More than anything.” My eyes drink her in, starting with the sheer veil sitting atop the golden waves cascading down her back. They linger on the square-cut bodice that’s in no way inappropriate but has me fantasizing about ripping it off her later tonight. I take in every curve, appreciating the way the fabric clings to her body. I don’t stop ’til I’ve reached the tips of her red-painted toes, peeking out from beneath the delicate satin and lace.

“And the baby?” she counters, the skin on her chest flushed from my perusal.

“Will be ours,” I answer, unwavering.

“Okay,” she stammers, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yes, Lyle Livingston, I will marry you.”

I’m back on one knee, slipping the ring onto her finger, when none other than Dane Deluca bursts through the door.

Chapter Two

My brother stands frozen in the doorway, eyes narrowed in confusion. “What the hell’s going on in here?”

“Dane!” I gasp, my mind whirling with all that’s just transpired. I don’t know how to make sense of any of this myself, least of all explain it to an outsider.

I’m having some kind of out of body experience. I know I should be upset that Trent backed out—devastated, even. Yet, I feel more excited about this wedding than ever before. In the blink of an eye, this day has gone from merely fulfilling an obligation to a dream come true.

Guess the right groom makes all the difference. Who knew?

As far as Dane’s concerned, the only connection Lyle and I have is their friendship. Well, that and the fact that we grew up neighbors.

“Samantha…” he prods. “Why did I just see your groom hightail it out of the parking lot like his ass was on fire, and what in God’s name is Lyle doing putting a ring on your finger?”

My mouth opens and closes, but my mind is blank. I’m finding it impossible to focus on anything but the weight of the diamond Lyle just placed on my finger.